He bent his head, kissed her. “I’m waiting,” he whispered.
Alex’s arm curled around Travis’s neck. “This is crazy.”
It was all the answer he needed.
He stepped out of his jeans and drew her down to the bed, into his arms. He rained kisses on her temples, on her throat. He licked her nipples, bit them gently, stroked her thighs and buried his face between them.
It had been so long. Days, an eternity…
“My turn,” she said softly, and knelt over him, kissing her way down his hard-muscled body, taking him into her mouth, loving him with teeth and tongue until he groaned and rolled her beneath him. He entered her on one hard, possessive stroke and she burst instantly into a million shards of light.
“My beautiful Princess,” Travis whispered, as he settled her in his arms.
Alex nestled against him, closed her eyes and told herself it just wasn’t true…
But it was.
She’d fallen in love with Travis.
CHAPTER TWELVE
TRAVIS had never been so happy.
And it amazed him.
Even at the beginning of his marriage to Cathy, before things had started to go bad between them, there’d been mornings it had seemed a chore to smile and be cheerful. He’d had something about work on his mind, or sometimes just Cathy’s early-morning chatter had made his teeth grind together.
Alex was different.
She woke him with kisses, or he woke her. It didn’t much matter. Either way, by the time he left the bed, he was always smiling. He’d never much cared for breakfast and he still didn’t, but having coffee across from his Princess’s lovely face seemed the perfect way to begin the day. Ending it by knowing she’d be at the door to greet him was even more perfect. It was amazing, how fast he came to expect to see her there, waiting for him. And she always was, despite her growing involvement in the empire her father had left her.
Oh, yeah. He was happy. And everybody knew it. Some, like Pete Haskell, teased him unmercifully.
“What’s with you, Baron?” Pete kept asking. “That grin stuck on your face, or what?”
And Travis would chuckle and say, yeah, it probably was.
He knew Alex was happy, too, though there were some moments that happiness was put to the test. Like the time the phone rang, early one morning, and she reached across him to pick it up when he didn’t hear it.
He woke up just as she said “hello” in a sleepy voice.
“Who is it?” he asked, but he knew it was trouble as he watched the expression on her face.
“Yes,” she said coldly, “this is 555–0937.” And then she thrust the phone at him, sat back against the pillows and glared.
Travis sat up. “Yeah?” he growled. “Oh. Right. Uh-huh. Sure. That’s great, Emma. Thanks for calling.” He put the phone back on the nightstand and reached for Alex, but she had slipped from the bed. “That was Emma,” he said.
“Indeed,” Alex said pleasantly. She put on her robe and went into the bathroom. When she returned, Travis was lying back against the pillows.
“She’s my secretary.”
“Did I ask?”
“You didn’t have to.”
“It’s a free country, Travis. You don’t have to—”
“But I do.” He sat up. She looked at that expanse of tanned chest and muscle, swallowed dryly and looked away. “Dammit, Alex, do you really think I’d cheat on you?”
“No.”
“Then, what was that all about?”
Alex picked up her brush and stroked it through her hair. “We have an agreement,” she said calmly. “No sleeping with anybody else while we’re together. Isn’t that right?”
She looked at his reflection in the mirror, saw his mouth thin. “Is that why you think I wouldn’t cheat on you?” he said gruffly. “Because we made some agreement?”
“I just wondered,” she said, deciding to ignore the question, “whether your secretary knows who I am.”
Travis could feel a headache starting just behind his eyes. “I don’t know.”
“She didn’t seem to. I mean, she sounded surprised to hear my voice.”
“I guess she was.” He sat up, tossed the blanket aside, got to his feet and walked to the bathroom. “I’m not in the habit of discussing my private life with my secretary.”
“Who do you discuss it with, then?”
He came out of the bathroom, still naked, and stood just behind her. “Listen,” he said carefully, “I’m not very good at games, first thing in the morning. If you want to tell me something, just say it, okay?”
Alex hesitated. She wasn’t very good at games, anytime of day. What was wrong with her this morning? She’d answered the telephone, Travis’s secretary had seemed startled to hear her voice. On the face of it, there was nothing to be upset about. On the contrary. It was nice to know that the women who danced in and out of his life either didn’t spend the night with him very often or didn’t feel secure enough to answer the phone.
Except, that didn’t change the fact that she was just another one of those faceless women. Oh, she might last a little longer. He might even feel a twinge of regret when their affair ended but end it would. She’d gone into this, knowing that. Knowing, too, that Travis wouldn’t really make her part of his life. He’d never introduce her to his family, or to the people he worked with. Not even his secretary would know she existed.
“Princess?”
Alex swallowed, lifted her gaze to the mirror and managed a smile.
“Sorry. I—I just…I woke up with a headache this morning, that’s all.”
Travis smiled, put his arms around her and drew her back against him. “Me, too,” he said softly. “And I know just the cure.”
“No.” Her voice was sharp, and she puffed out a breath and tried again. “No, really, Travis. What I need are a couple of aspirin.” Their eyes met in the mirror, his narrowed, hers shadowed. “Okay?”
He went on looking at her for what seemed a long time. Then he shrugged and his arms dropped to his sides.
“Sure. I have to get going, anyway. Emma called to tell me a client wants to see me pronto.” He moved toward the bathroom again, then paused in the doorway. “Alex?”
“Yes?”
He hesitated, and then he cleared his throat. “How about meeting me in town for dinner?”
She nodded. She’d done that before, driving in—she had a red Miata convertible, now—parking in the garage near his office and waiting for him in the lobby.
“What time shall I be there?”
“How about a little before five?” He cleared his throat again. “Come up to my office, and I’ll introduce you around.”
Her heart did a funny little stumble-step. “Fine,” she said, as if this wasn’t the very first time he’d even hinted at letting her into his world.
Travis nodded. “Fine,” he repeated—and told himself it really would be.
She dressed as carefully as if she were going to the board meeting of one of the corporations her father had left her, and arrived so early that she had to drive around the block for a few minutes, to kill time.
By the time she’d ridden the elevator to Travis’s floor and made her way down the corridor to his office, her heart was pounding.
His secretary—Emma—greeted her with a smile.
“You must be Ms. Thorpe.” She rose and extended her hand. “Mr. Baron is taking a last-minute call. Won’t you sit down?”
“Thank you,” Alex said politely.
She sat, picked up a magazine, made a show of thumbing through it. She looked up, met the secretary’s curious gaze. The woman blushed, smiled and busied herself with something on her desk. Questions tumbled through Alex’s head.
Had Emma recognized her voice? She’d known Alex’s name, but what did that mean? What had Travis told her? That an Alexandra Thorpe would be stopping by? Or had he told her more? What? What would he tell her? That they lived together? How did you say something li
ke that? What did you call a woman who lived with a man? Calling her his “date” was just plain silly but referring to her as his lover was far too intimate. Did you call her his mistress? No. A man supported his mistress. Paid her rent. Bought her clothes. Travis did none of that for her. She’d never have let him, even if she didn’t have her own money. Being a mistress was completely, totally demeaning.
“Princess.”
Alex shot to her feet. Travis stood in the open door to his private office. The obvious pleasure in his smile and in the way he’d spoken the name he used for her—their own, private name—put her at ease.
She smiled and came toward him, chastising herself for having had such foolish thoughts.
“Travis,” she said softly.
He smiled, too, and held out his hands.
“Whoops. Sorry, Baron. I didn’t know you had company.”
Alex swung around. A man smiled at her from the doorway to the outer office.
“Pete.” Travis frowned. “Pete, I thought you were out of town this week.”
“I was, but I got back sooner than…” Pete Haskell’s smile became a grin. “Wow.” He hurried forward and took Alex’s hand. “You’re Alexandra Thorpe.”
“Listen,” Travis said quickly, “I’m kind of busy right now, so—”
Alex smiled slightly. “Why, yes. Have we met?”
“Not really.” Haskell chuckled. “But I wish we had, that night at the bachelor thing. The auction.”
Color flooded her face. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” Haskell winked at Travis. “Oh, indeed. You didn’t tell us you were seeing Miss Thorpe, Baron.”
Travis’s face looked as if it had been chiseled from granite. “I don’t tell you lots of things, Haskell.”
“So, what’s the deal? Has this been going on long?”
Alex knew her face was burning. She looked at Travis. “Has what been going on long?” he said coldly.
“You know. This. Are you guys dating, or what?”
Or what, Alex thought, and bit back a hysterical laugh.
Travis put his arm around Alex’s waist. “We’re late,” he said, and led her past Haskell, past his secretary, and out the door. He didn’t speak again until they were in the elevator. “I’m sorry about that, Princess. Haskell’s a jerk.”
“I thought you didn’t discuss your private life at the office,” Alex said stiffly.
“I don’t.”
“But the auction must have been quite a topic of conversation.”
Travis sighed. “Yeah, it was. But the auction wasn’t exactly personal.”
“What happened between us was.”
“Of course. I didn’t mean—”
The elevator stopped. The doors opened and a gentleman with white hair and rheumy eyes stepped into the car. Travis bit back a groan.
“Travis,” the man said pleasantly.
Travis nodded.
“And who is this lovely young lady?” Old man Sullivan smiled, took Alex’s hand and lifted it to his lips.
“Her name is Alexandra,” Travis mumbled.
“A charming name for a charming…” Sullivan pursed his lip. “Alexandra? Alexandra. Why is that name so familiar?”
The elevator stopped again. The doors whisked open. Travis grasped Alex’s hand and hurried her into the lobby.
“See you tomorrow, John,” he called.
Alex kept a stony silence until he steered her into a quiet corner. Then she rounded on Travis, eyes flashing, and slapped her hands on her hips.
“Everyone in that awful place knows about me,” she hissed.
“Princess—”
“Don’t you ‘Princess’ me, Cowboy!” She glared at him. “What more do they know, huh? Besides the fact that I made a fool of myself, bidding on you.”
“Nothing. What could they know, other than that?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Other than that I made a fool of myself, you mean?”
“No. Yes. Hell, Alex, you’re the one who said it, not me!” Travis looked around. “Do we have to discuss this here? I mean, couldn’t we pick someplace a little more, uh, more discreet?”
“I want an answer to my question first. What else did you tell all these people about me?” She took a deep breath. “Did you tell them what happened—what we did that night? What I—what I…”
“Dammit, Alex!” Travis grabbed her elbow and yanked her toward him, his face dark. “What kind of man do you think I am? No, I did not tell them what happened. I told you, I don’t discuss my private life—”
“At work. Yes, so you said. So, how come everybody leered at me?”
“Lord!” Travis shoved his hand through his hair. “They didn’t leer. They were just curious, that’s all. You can hardly blame them. I mean, yeah, sure, they probably do remember that you, uh, that you made that bid at the auction. And now that they know we’re dating…”
He knew he’d made a mistake as soon as the word left his mouth, but it was too late. Alex’s lovely face went white.
“Dating,” she said, very softly.
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Well, we are—kind of.”
“Dating,” she said again. “You and I are dating.”
“Alex…”
She wrenched free of his hand, turned on her heel and marched away from him. Travis cursed and went after her, but he got caught up in a crowd at the exit door. By the time he reached the street, she was gone, but where?
He had no idea.
He drove to Malibu. She wasn’t there. He drove to Thorpe House. She wasn’t there, either. By ten that night, he’d put what seemed like a million miles on the car but he still hadn’t found her.
He was furious and worried. Mostly furious—okay, mostly worried. Where could she have gone? And what was she so angry about, anyway? Travis sat on the deck of his beach house, the phone, a glass, and a half-empty bottle of good California Merlot on the table beside him, and glared out at the sea.
What did women want from men besides the chance to drive them nuts?
“What was I supposed to do?” he demanded of the night. “She was mad because I’d never introduced her to anybody at my office. And then, when I did, she got mad because they figured out how we’d met.”
Travis poured more wine into his glass and drank it.
Women were crazy. There was no pleasing them. He’d asked Alex to move in with him. Wasn’t that enough? He’d never asked a woman to live with him before, never. Not before his marriage, certainly not after.
“Dammit,” he growled, picked up the phone and hit the speed-dial button for Slade’s Boston number.
Slade answered on the first ring. “Hello,” he snarled, “and whoever this is, I’ll tell you right now, I’m not in the mood for chitchat.”
“Well, neither am I,” Travis snarled back.
“Trav?” Slade’s voice softened a little. “Hey, man. How’d you know I needed to—”
“Tell me something,” Travis said. “What the hell is the matter with the female of the species?”
Slade gave a choked laugh. “The fact that they are female. That’s what’s the matter with them!”
“Yeah.” Travis stood up and walked down the wooden steps to the sandy beach. “There’s this woman.”
“There always is.”
“I asked her to move in with me.”
“You what? Listen, man, before you do anything serious, stop and think.”
“It isn’t serious. I mean, okay, it’s serious now. But it won’t be serious forever. We have an understanding. We stay together, no strings, no commitments—” Travis took the phone from his ear and glared at it. “Damn you, kid, stop laughing!”
“They all want commitments,” Slade said, and then he cleared his throat. “At least, they want them when they want them, not when you get around to making them.”
Travis frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Nothing, man, nothing at all. Look, about this babe—”
“S
he’s not a ‘babe,’” Travis said coldly. “Her name is Alexandra.”
“Alexandra, huh? Pretty classy name for a…Wait a second. The babe—the woman who bought you at that auction. Wasn’t her name—”
“What if it was?”
“Hey, there’s no need to get defensive. I’m just surprised, that’s all. I mean, the lady bought you for hot times—”
“Watch how you talk about her, Slade.”
Slade sighed. “Listen, man, all I’m saying is that it’s, uh, sort of unusual that she’s become your mistress.”
“She’s not my mistress.”
“What would you call her, then? If she’s living in your house?”
Travis opened his mouth, then shut it. He raked his fingers through his hair.
“I don’t know what I’d call her,” he said. “Hell, that’s part of the problem. She’s—she’s got to be called something, you know what I mean? When I introduce her to people.”
“She has a name, right? So just use it.”
“No. That’s not the point. We’re living together, Slade. How do I let people know that?”
“Why should they have to know it?” Slade asked reasonably.
Travis frowned. “Well—well, because she doesn’t want to be some kind of secret. You know, as if she doesn’t have a real function in my life.”
“Trav, man, you are in deep trouble, do you know that?”
Travis sighed. “I just need to call her something, kid.”
“Your date?”
“Hell, no.”
“Your lover, then.”
“No, she’d never go for that.”
“How about introducing her as your friend?”
Travis laughed.
“Well then, the only thing that leaves is that she’s your mistress.”
Travis shook his head. “She’s not. Or maybe she is. The thing is, she’s more than a mistress.”
“Well, tell her that.”
“Yeah?” Travis thought about it. “Yeah,” he said slowly, and smiled. “Maybe she’d like to hear that. ‘Princess,’ I could say, ‘Alex, I just want you to know that you’re more than a mistress to me…’”
“You son of a bitch!”
He swung around just in time to see Alex’s fist blur through the air. She caught him on the chin. He rocked back on his heels, and the phone fell from his hand.
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