by Joanne Rock
Did she really believe that? He couldn’t wait to show her how thoroughly she captured his attention.
“Whatever relationship I was in at the time was forgettable. And I never stopped noticing you. I just grew more discreet.”
She pursed her lips, and for a moment he wondered if he’d said the wrong thing or struck a nerve. But then, she returned her attention to his shirt buttons, unfastening one and sliding her fingers up the placket to the next in line. “While I’m not sure that I like the idea of being just another forgettable woman in your life, I’m at the point where I can appreciate something simple. Clear rules. No one gets hurt.”
She’d been listening carefully when he’d outlined those points earlier in the day. It was just as well, since Marcus stood by them. He’d seen how fast a family fell apart when a couple decided it wasn’t worth trying anymore.
He shut down those thoughts fast, grateful as hell just to have Lily in his arms, where he’d wanted her for a long, long time.
“You could never be forgettable,” he assured her, breathing in her scent, craving the taste of her on his tongue.
“I just want to choose something for myself. Something selfish. Something that’s just for me.”
“Then you’re making the very best choice tonight, Lily.” He drew her fully against him, hip to hip. Breast to chest. The contact sent a flash fire though him. “And I’m going to prove it to you.”
Eight
His lips claimed hers with a heat and possessiveness that turned her knees to water. Clinging to him, Lily let herself be swept away, realizing their previous kisses had been mere tentative precursors to this explosion of need.
She swayed on her feet, anchored by the hard strength of his arms banded around her. Her body melted against his, her curves fitting to his hard planes, her hips cradling the erection straining closer. She lost focus, hungry for more, now, faster.
He seemed to anticipate that need, or else he felt it just as fiercely, because no sooner did she think it than he plucked her off her feet and carried her through the kitchen, never breaking the kiss. Vaguely she registered the quiet hum of a refrigerator as they passed it, the night-light glowing over a range, and then a darkened hallway before he stepped into a spacious bedroom at the back of the lodge.
When he set her down again, her feet sank into plush carpet and a chill crept along her skin from a whirling overhead fan. He pulled away, and she opened her eyes long enough to see him click a remote for the gas fireplace before he reached to still the ceiling fan. The master suite glowed in the sudden blaze from the white brick hearth. Gray walls and a wooden cathedral ceiling made an already large room feel massive, but the sleigh bed beside her was angled toward the leaping flames in a way that seemed to invite lounging. White pillows of all sizes spanned the headboard while a puffy down duvet draped over the footboard.
She could absolutely see herself lingering in bed here all day. Especially with her potently sexy rival tangling in the sheets with her.
Her heartbeat raced as he made quick work of his shirt buttons, shedding his tie and then his cuff links before shrugging out of the fine white cotton, revealing a powerful chest and toned abs that were even finer.
She heard a feminine sigh of appreciation and belatedly realized it was hers. She couldn’t even blink, she was so busy admiring this man.
“May I?” he asked, reaching toward her then sliding his fingers into her hair to remove a pin.
Her throat was too dry to reply, so she settled for a wordless nod, her scalp tingling while he slowly undid her hair. Pin. By. Pin.
Taking her hair down had never felt so seductive. Each tendril that slipped to rest on her shoulders felt like a sensual stroke along her neck and shoulders. When the last silky loop unwound, Marcus dropped the pins on the nightstand and then speared his hands into the waves. Sensation tripped down her spine, pleasurable shivers chasing one after another.
He breathed soft praises against her ear, the low rumble of his voice vibrating through her while she splayed her hands along his bare chest, hungry to feel all that delicious male strength.
“I can’t wait to be inside you.” His whispered words sent a sharp ache of longing through her, and she let go of him long enough to reach for the button that held the neck of her dress together.
“I need to feel more of you.” Her fingers fumbled with the cloth-covered fastenings until he took over the task, freeing her from the yellow silk.
Two more buttons and the whole dress was in a pile at her feet. She would have started shimmying out of her bra and panties if not for Marcus’s sudden, fixed attention, his whole body going still for a moment.
“Wait.” He halted her hands before she could reach the hooks on the back of the yellow lace, his fingers gently circling her wrists. “You take my breath away, Lily.”
Her heartbeat stuttered and restarted at the look in his eyes. A new level of sensual awareness made her somehow feel bold and shy at the same time. Bold because she wanted to explore all of this new heat with him. Shy because his obvious fascination with her made her self-conscious.
“Touch me,” she invited, wanting his hands all over her, all the time. “Please.”
“My pleasure,” he murmured, his fingers tracing the outline of the lace on her hips while his lips lowered to the peak of her nipple where it was visible through the fabric.
He licked and nipped, teasing her there in a way that made a new tension coil tight inside her. By the time he slipped his hand between her legs, she rocked against him shamelessly, needing him there.
The guttural sound he made in his throat was half desire and half pain. Or maybe that’s just how she was feeling. The need for completion raked through her while he stroked her sex through the damp lace.
She rolled her hips against him and realized he was still wearing pants. Seized by a new need to have him naked immediately, she worked the belt and fastenings free until he stepped out of the trousers, walking her backward to the bed.
Her gaze darted to his, and she saw the raw desire reflected there. She wasn’t the only one teetering on the brink right now.
He flicked free the clasp on her bra and dragged the lace panties off her hips, leaving her naked. She craved his touch everywhere at once, but he pushed her gently back to the mattress, settling her in the middle of his bed.
Only then did he shed his boxer shorts. The heat between them combusted, flaring into a total conflagration. He paused to retrieve a condom from a drawer and toss it beside her on the bed, but she could only think about getting his hands on her again. His whole body on hers.
Aligned. Joined.
But he was taking it more slowly. He angled one broad shoulder between her thighs and kissed her there. Deeply. Sweetly.
The intimate feel of him threatened to make her lose all control. She edged back a fraction, needing to catch her breath, but he pressed closer. The tension built to an unbearable high. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t do anything but feel.
And then sensation crashed over her in waves, drowning her in a pleasure she wasn’t sure would ever end. When it finally did, he kissed his way up her body, lingering on each of her breasts before he finally reached for the condom. Sheathed himself.
She was tongue-tied, overwhelmed, so thoroughly sated she couldn’t imagine needing more. Except she wanted to feel him inside her, to give him the same kind of pleasure he’d just given her. She wanted to tell him that, but he was already rolling her on top of him. Guiding her hips down over him.
And just like that, the tension ratcheted right back up. The hunger returned with a vengeance, bringing with it a new ache that only he could satisfy. He entered her, inch by delectable inch. She’d never felt anything so amazing.
So good.
For long moments, she moved with him, letting him guide her where he wanted her. Building the p
leasure for them both, he was a generous and skilled lover, sensing what she needed. Giving her more. And she could have gladly followed his lead for hours, exploring what made him feel good. But soon, she felt his hands still. His whole body was taut as a bow and unmoving.
She tilted her hips, arched her spine and found a whole new sensual gear. Her release blindsided her in one lush spasm after another, catapulting her over the edge. Marcus followed her, his shout of completion a hoarse echo of hers before she collapsed against him. Spent. Exhilarated.
Glowing with sensual satisfaction.
For long moments, it was all she could do to breathe. She focused on doing just that while her eyes closed and her heart settled into a more normal rhythm. Marcus shifted her to his side, sweeping away the surplus pillows until they each were left with one, then retrieving the extra comforter from the footboard. He hauled it over them, draping her in soft white down.
She smiled at the feel of it against her bare skin, not wanting to open her eyes yet. Not ready to face the reality of being in her boss’s bed for the night.
She felt too wonderful to regret anything.
As he lay beside her and stroked her hair, she couldn’t resist glancing his way. He studied her in the firelight, his expression inscrutable. Perhaps he wasn’t ready to think about what had just happened between them, either.
She searched for something, anything to say to fill the silence that was growing heavier by the second.
“I am excited about your idea for the gala on the ranch,” she finally said, her thoughts turning to the safe topic of work. “I’m going to contact some nature conservancy groups and see who’s interested in partnering for the event.”
Marcus grinned at her across the pillow. “And you accused me of always thinking about the job.”
A trace of guilt smoked through her, even though his smile never faltered. Had that been insensitive? Rude, even?
“I’m sorry.” She felt awkward. “I’m not very good at this.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” He pressed a finger gently to her lips. “I was only teasing. And I’m looking forward to seeing what the team comes up with for the ranch gala.”
The brush of his skin against her mouth reminded her of all they’d just shared, sending a fresh quiver down her spine. Gazing into his dark eyes, she wondered how long they could dance around what had just happened. Sooner or later she would have to face the fact that she had made an impulsive, romantic decision, not all that different from the ones her grandparents had spent a lifetime warning her against.
For the rest of her time in Montana, though, she planned to indulge. To enjoy more of the pleasures she’d denied herself for too long. So right now, she simply relished the feel of Marcus’s caress while she considered how to best do her job.
“Do you think we’ll have much involvement from the owners?” She hadn’t met any of them yet. “Not just for the event, but with the awareness campaign? I’m just wondering who’ll sign off on our plans.”
“I spoke to Weston Rivera initially, the one who’s here most often. He can approve things, but apparently he does a lot of search-and-rescue work that can make him hard to reach. In that case, we send things to Gage Striker, who’s more involved on the business end—” Marcus cut off abruptly, his hand going still where he’d been stroking her hair. “Why?”
“Just curious.” She shrugged, wondering why he’d think her interest unusual. “I find the dynamics of the group sort of surprising, don’t you? Not many friends go into business together on something like this. Especially when they don’t seem to spend a lot of time here.”
“Maybe that’s why they’re insisting on having a welcome reception once Devon gets here. To give us all a chance to get to know each other.”
His phone vibrated on the nightstand before she could reply.
“That could be Devon,” Marcus said, levering up on his elbow to retrieve the device. “I’d better check.”
She doubted it was Devon, who was most likely still in the air. She felt another pang of guilt over how she hadn’t shared what she knew about his return trip.
Marcus scowled when he looked at the screen. “Would you excuse me?” He sprang to his feet and dragged on his boxers, then headed toward the door before giving her one last glance. “I’ll be right back.”
As he padded down the corridor away from her, she couldn’t deny a sinking feeling in her gut. He’d pulled away from her abruptly when she’d started asking more questions about Mesa Falls Ranch. Could it be he still didn’t trust her? Reaching down to the floor to retrieve his discarded shirt, she jammed her fists through the sleeves and covered up. She wanted to feel indignant at the thought that Marcus might not trust her, especially given what they’d just shared.
Except Devon had forced a secret on her, so she wasn’t being totally honest with Marcus. Moreover, Devon had told her to be careful around Marcus. Advice she had ignored. What could he have meant?
While she weighed her next move, Marcus reappeared in the doorway. His expression was thunderous.
“Devon has hired a private investigator to look into our father’s past.”
* * *
Anger churned at the thought of his brother trying to outmaneuver him, leveraging any advantage to take control of Salazar Media now that their father was gone. Marcus couldn’t shake the sour feeling in his stomach that he’d somehow been played in coming here. Had the trip been a distraction that gave Devon extra time to probe their father’s mysterious past? What if he’d learned things that would give him an edge when they finally received whatever papers Alonzo Salazar had left them?
“I don’t understand.” Lily’s voice pulled him from his spinning thoughts. “How do you know Devon hired someone to do that?”
She was sitting up, propped against the headboard, and had pulled on the shirt he wore to dinner. The French cuffs flapped loose around her forearms as she scraped her hands through her dark hair, sticking a couple of pins through it to hold it in place.
Even as agitated as he felt, he still experienced the sharp tug of attraction. Far from easing the need for her, their time together had only shown him how incredible they were together. She had floored him. At least until the moment that she’d steered their conversation immediately back to work, making him question how much information she might be tucking away to pass to Devon.
“Because I just spoke to Weston Rivera, one of the ranch owners, and he assumed that I knew about the PI.” Marcus sat down on the foot of the bed. “The investigator left messages with Weston and two other Dowdon alumni, asking questions about Dad.”
He wondered what in the hell Devon was trying to accomplish with the underhanded methods. It was one thing to hire an investigator without telling him. But to let the guy question a new client of Salazar Media? Marcus wouldn’t be able to just roll over and let that one pass.
“And how do you know Devon is behind that?” Lily pressed, sounding defensive on his brother’s behalf.
“Weston called the guy back and asked him straight out who was paying his bills. The PI admitted it was Alonzo’s son, so Weston called me to give me an earful. I know damn well it wasn’t me, so clearly Devon is scouring our father’s past, looking for clues about whatever paperwork he left us.” He spotted the remote for the fireplace on the floor and leaned to grab it so he could dial down the flames.
“But if the investigator freely implicated Devon, your brother obviously wasn’t trying to keep it a secret. I’m sure he’ll talk to you about it when he arrives.” Lily studied him in the dim glow from the fire, the diamond studs in her ears catching the light as she spoke.
She was so damned lovely. He’d never be able to see her again without remembering this night with her. The way she looked in his shirt, the exposed column of her throat tempting him to trail kisses down her neck into the shadowed vee between her breasts. He gr
ound his teeth against the surge of desire.
“If he decides to show up at all. While I’m here doing work for the company, he’s on the other side of the world orchestrating his plan to oust me from the business.” He just wondered if Lily was helping Devon or not. “And he’s doing so at the expense of our relationship with a new client.”
As soon as the words fell from his mouth, he realized perhaps he shouldn’t have voiced his concerns out loud. To her. A woman who was professionally in his brother’s camp.
Even so, Marcus was surprised at how much he wanted to trust her. To believe she was neutral in this standoff. But no matter how sizzling their connection, it couldn’t trump her long friendship with his brother or her deep roots with the New York office. Could it?
“I’m sure Devon has his reasons. Do you two have to be so suspicious of each other?” she asked, methodically folding back one of the French cuffs on the shirt, pressing it into place as though her hand was an iron. “And what could there possibly be to investigate in your father’s past?”
He ignored her first question. He could give a dozen examples of ways his brother had tried to undermine him personally and professionally. But what would be the point?
Instead, he focused on the second question. “My father spent a great deal of time alone, working on undisclosed research.”
Lily stopped fidgeting with the shirtsleeve and glanced up at him. “He was an educator. Is that really surprising?”
“I’d understand if there had been published journal articles to show for it. Or correspondence from colleagues or extra books left around the house. But he was incredibly secretive about his work.” Marcus thought back to his father’s late nights in his locked study. Research trips. Arguments between his parents when they’d still been together. “He almost certainly had a second income of some kind. He had access to cash when he needed it. My mother swears he kept hidden savings accounts open in other names, although I’m not sure there’s any proof of that.”
Lily pursed her lips, a thoughtful expression stealing over her face. “Did his estate reflect any unexpected assets when he passed?”