Chapter 4
He wanted to take her home, but she declined, selling him a story about her being the DD. That her friend was hitting the bubbly and she had to be the responsible one.
"I could swing for a suite, so driving home would be eliminated."
She had come up with another plausible story about having an engagement early in the morning.
"Why do I get the feeling you're avoiding me?" he asked half teasingly.
She had said maybe and left it at that.
Carrie had grilled her about the ride she took with him, and she had told her parts of it. Some of the more intimate details she had deliberately left out.
Now she was bringing it back, full force. It was almost midnight and she was wide awake. Her body heated as memories flooded through her.
They had started kissing in the front seat. The first touch of his lips on hers had her almost swooning. She had always thought that was nonsense whenever she read it in the few romance novels while trying to fall asleep. But his lips touching hers had turned her into putty.
She had melted. The idea of pushing him away filtered through her mind but was immediately filtered out. He had a mouth on him. Strong, sexy, delicious and heady. He tasted like strong wine and honey all wrapped together.
When things had gotten more heated, he had suggested the back seat. Where it had gotten hot and heavy. He had involved tongue and had her pressing against him; her body flushed from the heat.
She had all but flattened herself against him. Melanie sighed raggedly, pulling the sheets over her and between her legs as sensations rocked her. His hands had been all over her. Throat, neck, breasts. And then he had used his lips.
"Oh Lord." She felt feverish and hot, like she was coming down with a virus.
He had bared one shoulder and used his tongue to taste her skin. She did not stop him when he pushed the dress aside to cup her bare breast. She had not bothered with a bra, and his groan of appreciation had told her how much he appreciated the thought.
When he took the nipple between his teeth, she had felt it all the way to her toes. Sharp, stinging sensations that had her gripping his rich sable brown hair and digging in.
But he had backed off. Just like that, had lifted his head and reared up as if he was shot. His eyes a molten gold had stared at her in a daze.
"I'm sorry as hell," he told her thickly. "This, I haven't necked in the back of a vehicle since I was sixteen. Christ." He dragged shaky fingers through his tousled hair. "I need air."
She had straightened her clothing and waited a few minutes before joining him outside.
"I cannot touch you again." His voice had sounded harsh, his face taut. "I never lose control like that. If I touch you again, we're both going to go up in flames."
He had taken her back to the club right then and spent the rest of the night with her. She had noticed that they were being eyed. Several women had given her the evil eye.
Beautiful women, decked out in jewelry, the real thing that would set her and her son up for life. But he had chosen to be with her. He had chosen to dance with her, holding her close and whispering in her ear.
He had deflected the turmoil rising inside them by telling her about the people inside the room. She liked him, she realized. She had set out to snare someone wealthy but never dreamed she would catch the interest of one of the wealthiest men in the country. Old school wealth.
He had wanted to see her again tomorrow night. "I can't be seen with you."
He had stared at her with an uncomprehending frown. "And why is that?"
"You asked me what I do for a living." She had improvised quickly.
"I volunteer at a women's shelter." She had prayed for forgiveness and that the Lord would not strike her down by lightning.
There was a shelter of course, one where her friend Gibby worked at and she had pitched in on holidays to serve food and help with clothing drives.
"You understand why I cannot call attention to myself."
He had given her a speculative look that had her holding her breath, releasing it when he nodded in understanding.
"How about dinner at somewhere private? I promise there's no danger of the press being there.
It's operated by a friend of mine. A nice little Italian restaurant out by the harbor.
Say yes. I want to get to know you. I'm attracted, Melanie. "
He had handed her his card. Plain white with gold lettering that simply identified him as CEO of Lancashire Holdings. Multi-billionaire. And if he discovered that she was playing him, there would be hell to pay.
A shiver of fear ran up and down her spine and had her pulling the sheets tight around her. Carrie had dismissed her fear with a vague wave of her hand. She had landed a portly gentleman in his late fifties. Divorced, with no kids.
"Just the way I like them. He has a yacht and is into computer software. Travels a lot and made sure to stress that he likes his meat dark."
"Sounds like a pervert."
"Honey, he's rolling in dough and wants to buy me gifts. I spun a story about being a rich divorcee whose ex was a complete asshole and left me for a younger woman. He drank it up. His ex left him for her trainer. How cliched is that?"
"What are we doing?"
"Having fun," her friend said firmly. "Having a few laughs, getting something out of a relationship for once. Our own kind used us and left us broke and bitter. It's time to go to the other side. Time to start reaping the benefits."
"That sounds materialistic and very cold."
Carrie shrugged. "It's the way of life. You got the cream of the crop, and you said the man kissed like a dream.
And he had eyes for you alone. All those beautiful bitches dripping with fabulous stones and he picked you.
I heard a blonde wearing a king's ransom worth of emeralds wondered spitefully what he sees in you.
'I bet she's a nobody. Men are such idiots.
' I right then and there put her in her place and said you were living in Italy and Paris and just now got back. "
"Oh, Carrie."
"You should have seen the look on her pasty white face."
"I don't think I can do this."
"You can. Just think of it as an adventure."
She was trying to, but after she heard the name of the restaurant, she went into panic mode again. She had his card, maybe she would call and decline the invitation. Spirano's was one of the most exclusive expensive restaurants this side of town.
People had to book six months in advance to get a reservation. And it was not just about the hype. The food was excellent and the service stupendous, as was quoted in several food networks.
The chef was a celebrity who had his own network. Those were the kind of people Rodney Lancashire ran with. And she was out of her depth. But oh, she wanted to see him again.
It had been so long since she had someone look at her like that. In fact, no one had ever wanted her that way.
"God forgive me," she whispered faintly. "Please forgive me."
*****
He could not sleep. Taking the cognac with him, he went to his den and sat behind the desk. The solid honey teak was strewn with floor plans and notes he had jotted down.
His mother told him wryly that he was a perfectionist. The board was getting on his case because he kept changing his mind about the interior of the palace.
But he wanted the best and people were willing to pay for it.
Shoving the papers aside, he leaned back and propped his feet on the corner, the drink cradled between his palms.
It had happened so quickly, it left him spinning in the wind. He was not used to losing control so quickly. It was like being struck by lightning when he touched her.
The taste had him craving more. He had just managed not to rip the dress off her and devour. The animal inside him had wanted to break loose. He had barely managed to contain it.
Sipping, he took stock. He was thirty years old and had never been in love. He thought he came close with Megan. There had been something there.
He admired her spontaneity and what had struck him as her smarts. They had been compatible in bed. He grimaced at how tidy that sounded. For the first time since the breakup, he realized that the passion had been lukewarm.
Not like what he had felt tonight. Not by a damn long shot. He reached for the phone before he could change his mind and dialed her number. She might very well be sleeping but he had to take the chance.
When she answered, he took a deep breath and let it out shakily.
"Hi. I woke you."
"No." She sat up in bed, her insides trembling. "I wasn't asleep."
"You should be, it's almost midnight."
"What about you?"
"I'm used to keeping late nights. Look, I just wanted to tell you that I had a good time tonight. And I want to see you again, soon."
"Dinner," she reminded him.
"Which is not until next week. Why not make it sooner?"
"I can't." Melanie closed her eyes briefly as the lie formed. "I have an engagement that I cannot get out of."
"Should I be worried?" It was said in jest, but he felt his heart hammering as he waited for her response.
"What are we doing here?"
Shoving from the desk, he paced to the window to stare out at the ripple of water that was his backyard. His apartment sat on a prime parcel of land situated in the dense woodlands and was completely isolated. He preferred it that way.
But tonight, it felt like a cage and a very lonely one. He could just make out the sliver of moon reflected on the water.
"We're heading into having a romance." He waited as the silence stretched and wondered if he was jumping the gun. "Listen, I just want to get to know you. I already told you that there is something between us. I would like to explore it."
Melanie rubbed the sleep from her eyes and contemplated telling him who she really was. A single mother with paychecks that did not quite make the grade. Would he hang up and change his mind about getting involved? She already knew the answer to that.