“Don’t worry about that. I have a ski pole you can use.” He thrust his hips up against her body, even as they both dissolved into laughter.
“I can’t believe you said that.” Giggling, still aroused, she ground herself against the bulge underneath. “So lame.”
“Excuse me, did you just call me lame?” He delivered another smack right on her ass. “Bad girl.”
“Lyle…” Shamelessly, she opened her legs, just a bit, enough to invite his hands to go where she wanted them. “Touch me.”
“I am touching you.”
“Touch me there. My clitoris.”
“So anatomically accurate,” he teased. But he did as she’d asked, sliding two fingers into the moist seam between her legs. “What’s this?” He pressed the hood above her clit, tugging it just the right amount to add more stimulation, without making her come.
“Are you serious right now? You want an anatomy lesson?”
“Might as well put that medical degree to good use, baby girl.” His fingers slid her slippery folds, arousing every nerve ending they touched. With her cheek against the couch cushions, she closed her eyes against the surge of pleasure. For someone used to being in charge, to being responsible for the lives of others, it was a huge relief to be putty in someone else’s hands like this.
“I…I’ll…show you a diagram. Later.”
He chuckled softly and gave her another swat with his other hand. “Still trying to be the boss, I see. That’s all right. We both know who’s boss here.” He pinched her clit, sending a wild jolt of sensation through her body. “You,” he admitted. “Even on my lap with your ass under my hand, you’re the boss.”
“I…I am?” Under the stroking of his fingers, orgasm hovered at the edge of her awareness, a tickle growing and changing form into something more powerful.
“Of course. You want me to stop, I stop. You want me to make you come, I make you come. But the one thing I won’t do—” Another light spank, timed perfectly with pressure from his fingers, made her squeal. “Is betray a confidence.”
He rubbed her clit again, harder, then hooked a finger inside her and pressed against a spot that sent the most piercing, wild sensation through her.
And with that, the orgasm slammed into her, releasing a torrent of pleasure. She screamed into his shoulder, bucking hard between his hand and his thigh. With her wild thrashing, her complete obliviousness to everything except the climax gripping her body, it was amazing that she didn’t throw herself off his body like a rodeo bull. But she didn’t. When she came back to awareness, his finger was still deep inside her, his hand still spread across her ass.
She quivered against him, feeling as if all the bones in her body had liquified. Yes. She trusted him, all right. And not just in the physical sense.
Now she knew that he would never betray her brother, no matter how much she pestered him.
And that, maybe more than the shattering orgasm, made her heart turn over in her chest.
Lyle Guero. Enigmatic, unexpected, irresistible Lyle Guero was slowly but surely doing something strange and new to her heart. He was causing her to fall in love.
But the Lyle she was falling for was the temporary de-billionaired Lyle. What would happen when his life went back to normal? Would his business consume all his attention again? Or what about when she got her next assignment?
She pushed aside all those thoughts. They had until the new year. After that, who knew what would happen? But she wasn’t going to worry about it yet, not until after New Year’s at Majestic Lodge. Her dream trip.
27
After all the time Lyle had spent with the Rockwells, he’d almost forgotten how the rest of the world treated him. But he got a big reminder the minute he and Isabelle walked up to the concierge desk at the Majestic Lodge.
“Mr. Guero, it’s such an honor to have you here. Anything you need, you give us a call, day or night.”
It’s just money, he wanted to scream. And I don’t have as much as you think I have anymore.
He caught Isabelle’s wide-eyed look as he accepted an expensive bottle of champagne from the concierge. “Special for our VIPs,” the man whispered. “A New Year’s gift from the Majestic.”
“Thank you. My companion is the one who booked the suite, though. Not me.”
The concierge’s glance barely slid Isabelle’s direction. Clearly, in his view, she didn’t count nearly as much as the billionaire with her. “Of course, sir. We’re honored to welcome both of you. We pride ourselves on offering the best service in the Cascades.”
“Really? What about Rocky Peak Lodge? I’ve heard it’s the most charming hidden gem in the area.”
The manager looked blank for a moment, while Isabelle tugged her lower lip between her teeth, laughter welling in her eyes.
“Are they still operating? I heard they closed down. But yes, people do say it’s charming.” Clearly not a compliment, in his view. “It’s family run, and the family…well, I don’t know them personally, as I’m relatively new here. Shall I show you to your suite, Mr. Guero?” Catching himself, he added, “And companion?”
Lyle gazed down at the man, who was about a head shorter than him, and wearing a business suit that seemed out of place in this rugged mountain terrain. “Did you know that Isabelle here is a trauma surgeon, and that if you had a heart attack or skied into a tree or slipped in the bathtub, she’s the one who could save your life?”
The man went red in the face, from chin to eyebrows, then turned to Isabelle and bowed his head. “My apologies, Dr…”
“Rockwell.”
“Rock—” All the color in his face fled. “As in…”
She nodded cheerfully. “Indeed. I’m from the crazy family down the ridge. But don’t worry, I’m honestly only here for the Black Diamond runs. We used to stage friendly competitions between the two lodges, you know.”
“Really…” All business now, he gestured for a bellhop to grab their bags. “We’re honored to have you here. Perhaps you’d like us to clear your favorite trail for you? Maybe a private run down Thunderdome?”
“Aww, you’re a peach. But that’s not necessary. I wouldn’t want to interfere with anyone else’s good time.”
The concierge scrawled something on a card and handed it to her. “Dinner will be on the house tonight.”
Dinner was more of the same treatment. They were shown to the best table, the one with its own private fireplace, which drew envious glances from the other guests. A continual flow of servers brought champagne, amuse bouches, course after course, and endless attention to their every need.
From Isabelle’s expression, she didn’t know whether to laugh or be uncomfortable.
“Is it always like this?” she asked, after someone appeared out of nowhere to refill her glass, then disappeared just as quickly. “This is your life?”
“Only sometimes. You get used to it.”
But that was the wrong thing to say. Her expression stiffened. “I doubt I’d get used to this, especially after working in refugee camps.”
“You’re right. I didn’t mean it that way. I mean that I don’t take it too seriously. People get strange around money. That’s all.”
“But I thought you were de-billionaired?”
“Well…” He cleared his throat. “Not exactly. Even if I’m no longer CEO, I’ll still be the majority shareholder. Unless the company free falls, I’m still a billionaire.”
She studied at him for a long, serious moment. “So this is your life. All this toadying and buttering up.”
He nodded warily. “Sometimes. Is that so bad?”
“Did you ever think that your money might be part of that wall you were complaining about? The thing you wanted my help with?”
He shrugged uncomfortably. Maybe it was, but he wasn’t about to give up his money.
The waiter poured them more champagne, and shortly after that Isabelle excused herself to go to the bathroom.
Damn. He’d wanted her to hav
e a fun time at this lodge, not be uncomfortable. Had it been wrong to bring her here and show off his status? This type of experience was part of his world. If she wanted him, she’d have to get used to it.
But did she want him?
Really want him? Not just as a vacation fling?
When she came back, her face was alive with excitement. “Guess what?” She slid into her chair, oblivious of the server trying to help her into it. “I ran into one of the bartenders, someone I knew from high school. He used to party with the college kids who come here, so I asked him some questions about what frat groups he remembers. He’s going to think about it and get back to me. It could be a clue about Mom’s accident.”
“Great.”
She lifted her eyebrows, as if waiting for more. He held his tongue.
“That’s what you’re helping Jake with, right? He’s trying to find those guys?”
“Nice try. Ready for dessert?”
She laughed, conceding the point. Leaning toward him, she lowered her voice. “Maybe upstairs in our fabulous suite, away from all these waiters? I swear, they multiply every time I turn around.”
28
After a night of barely any sleep, they spent the next morning on the slopes. Then came a quick lunch, over which they debated whether to ski more or screw more.
Lyle was thrilled that skiing came in second.
Back in the suite, he popped the cork on the bottle of champagne the concierge had gifted them. The penthouse was spectacular, with one hundred and eighty degree views through floor-to-ceiling glass windows and power-operated drapes for privacy. Every room had a flat screen TV and a minibar. In the living room, three tiled steps led down to an enormous sunken hot tub. Steam hovered above the surface of the water, seductive and tempting.
Even so, he preferred Rocky Peak Lodge.
“It’s nice to be alone,” he murmured as he drew her into his arms. “Let’s not leave until ski o’clock tomorrow.”
He slid his hands down her back to the upper curve of her rear. She melted against him.
“Ski o’clock?” she murmured. “Does that come before or after half-past-hot-tub?”
He slid his hands under her ass and hoisted her up his body. She wrapped her legs around him as he walked her down the steps to the hot tub. “Get naked and we’ll discuss it.”
“Get naked? That’s very smooth, Mr. Guero.” She dropped her voice into a teasing purr. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Guero? Any time, day or night, feel free to call. We pride ourselves on our service here. Perhaps I could lick champagne off your balls, Mr. Guero? Perhaps I could clear this entire lodge and send everyone else to the moon, Mr. Guero? ”
He gave a snort of laughter, then let her slide to her feet. He stripped off his own clothes and stood stark naked before her. “Oh look. It’s hot tub o’clock. And you’re late. Take your clothes off, woman.”
“Why are you in such a hurry?” she teased as she inched the hem of her sweater up. Its color—forest green—made her eyes stand out like brilliant gems. “We have two more days here.”
Lyle stepped to the edge of the hot tub, conscious of her eyes on him every step of the way. “Because if there’s one thing life has taught me, it’s that things can change in a snap. You gotta take advantage of every moment you get.” He slid into the warm water and sighed. Damn, that felt good after all that cold winter air on the slopes. “As much as I’m enjoying the striptease, if you take too long, I might fall asleep in here,” he told her drowsily. “These jets are working out kinks my muscles didn’t know they had.”
Isabelle abandoned her slow-mo approach and ripped off her sweater and jeans. Underneath she wore something he’d never seen on her before—a deep burgundy pushup bra with laces, like a mini-corset.
“Were you wearing that under your ski pants?”
“Nope. Quick change in the bathroom after lunch.” She winked at him. “Kind of like dessert.”
His eyes went wide as they ate up every detail, then traveled down the rest of her body. Her sassy silk boy shorts were cut so high they showed off the sweet lower curve of her ass. Which he knew because she twirled around to give him the full picture.
At the edge of the tub, she struck a pose. “I’m not taking off anything else until you acknowledge how gorgeous and sexy this is.”
“Acknowledged,” he said gruffly. “Christmas present?”
“Yes. To myself from myself.” She shot him a sultry glance from under her eyelashes. “Actually, the real present is whatever happens after I take them off.”
She hooked her fingers into her panties to draw them down, but he stopped her. “Wait. Give me a moment.”
Laughing, she cocked one hip and arched her back, then reached up and pulled her hair out of its ponytail. Lush waves tumbled down her back, adding another level of sensual goddess to the pose.
His cock surged in the bubbling warm water, and he no longer had any desire to sleep. Not while Isabelle was around, with that playful sexy manner and that outrageously hot lingerie. “Turn around one more time?” he asked hopefully.
She obliged, casting him a saucy look over her shoulder, then launched into a catwalk prance around the edge of the tub. “How do those Victoria’s Secret models keep a straight face? I keep wanting to crack up. It’s a good thing I’m a doctor, not a model.”
“They’re not supposed to show any expression because it might detract from the clothes they’re modeling.”
She stopped in her tracks. “And you know this how?”
With a lifted eyebrow, he took note of her jealous expression.
He didn’t hate it. Jealousy could be considered progress, right?
“I chatted with a model at a business dinner once. She told me that. She was with someone else, but everyone treated her like irrelevant arm candy. And no, we didn’t go to bed together.”
Isabelle stepped to the edge of the hot tub and slowly sat down, dangling her feet in the water. All of her lightheartedness had disappeared. “You know, this trip is the first time I’ve gotten a taste of your real life. It’s like bizarro world to me. Business dinners with moguls and a model thrown in for eye candy. Women who are just there for decoration. Like that concierge, ignoring me completely.”
“That was my life. If Drew gets what he wants, I’ll be unemployed.”
Isabelle shook her head. “Even so, you’d still have your stock. Just like you said, you’ll still be a billionaire.”
Her lack of a smile set off alarm bells. “Why don’t you sound happy about that?”
“I don’t know. It’s just—” She poked one toe at a bubble floating past. “We’re just like this bubble. We’re both on a break, an extended Christmas vacation, and we’re in this nice beautiful bubble together. But what happens after it pops?”
“Whatever we want?”
“But that’s not realistic. I mean, think of how our relationship started.”
He pointed at her in triumph. “You said relationship.”
“I did. It is. I’m not about to deny reality. We are in a kind of relationship, but it started because we were both stranded outside of our regular lives. If that freak storm hadn’t hit Rome, I would have gone back to the Sudan and you to Seattle. We never would have met. Bubble.”
“But we did meet. I don’t understand your point.” Also, he was still extremely distracted by her lingerie. The way that corset top was pushing her breasts together, so plump and creamy, made his mouth water.
He swam over to her and discovered that when he stood up in the hot tub, her breasts were at eye level.
But she drew back, avoiding his touch. “This is more of the same,” she said softly. “Another bubble. We’re both stranded again outside of our regular lives. It’s like fantasyland, like playing house. What happens when we both go back to work?”
“Email?” he said facetiously.
She scooped a handful of water at him. “You’re not taking this seriously.”
“Because
I’m not worried about it. I have a private jet. I have a helicopter on call. There’s nowhere I can’t get to if I need to. Wherever you are, I’ll come find you. Refugee camps included.”
If anything, she looked more troubled. “Oh yeah, that’s going to look great. I’m operating under a tent in the desert and you show up in a private plane.”
“Honey, what do you want me to say? That I won’t try to visit you?”
“I don’t know.” She stirred the water with her foot, creating a small whirlpool. “That’s the problem. Maybe we should just admit that we’re fooling ourselves. Our lives are too different. I’ll never be arm candy and you’ll always be business-first.”
He slid his hands along the outsides of her thighs, up to the silky shorts hiding her most intimate parts. Even now, when she was … what, breaking up with him? … he wanted her. “I’m not only about business. You know that.”
“I didn’t say business only. I said business first.” Her breath caught as he slid his thumbs across the skin of her inner thighs.
“Are you sure I can’t change?”
“Do you want to change? You said you don’t ever want to have children.”
His hands stilled on her thighs. That comment came completely out of left field. “Yes. So?”
“So…I don’t know.”
“What are we talking about here?”
“I…” She drew her legs out of the water and wrapped her arms around them. “I guess I’m talking about children. I didn’t intend to, but there it is.”
Damn. This was a curveball he wasn’t ready for. Of all possible topics, why that? “Are you missing Tigger? Is that what this is about?”
“No! I mean I missed him at first, of course.”
“I’m sure Beth will let you—”
“No.” She shook her head almost violently. “This is bigger than Tigger. Tigger was just the trigger--” She broke off with a wry laugh. “Starting over. Tigger woke me up, I guess you could say. He made me realize what was missing. But this really isn’t about Tigger. It’s about my mom, and those dreams I kept having, and her journals. I think I finally get what that dream was telling me.”
The Renegade Page 20