The Deadly Series Boxed Set

by Jaycee Clark

  With their fingers linked and his hand on the curve of the bottom of her back, they swayed to the slow song of love. Her cheek rested against his chest and his against the silky curls piled high atop her head. He saw his mother and father dancing just as he and Taylor were, saw his father tilt his mother’s face up by the chin and lean down to kiss her. They broke apart laughing. Something about that scene, and the woman in his arms, opened a longing within him that he hadn’t known had existed—or he had, he just hadn’t focused on the search of it.

  Until now.

  Shaking off the thoughts, he turned his attention back to Taylor.

  “Guess you didn’t like my idea, huh?” he asked her, rubbing small circles in the bottom of her back on the sheer material of her dress. When she’d bought it over the weekend at one of the antique stores they’d gone into, he’d wondered what it would look like on her, as he didn’t know many—or any—that went around in eighty-year-old clothes. It was called a flapper dress, she informed him. He didn’t care what the hell it was called. The bright blue color contrasted with the red and gold stitching and made her hair stand out like burnished copper. He kept circling the small of her back, the sheer overlay material sliding sensually over the blue silk underdress.

  He wanted her and she still hadn’t answered his question.

  “You’re used to women falling at your feet.”

  Gavin pulled back a bit from her. “I never asked them to.”

  Taylor’s eyes narrowed. She was serious. Damn some stupid rumors and his reputation.

  He shook his head. “I don’t care if an entire harem resides in my damn condo, woman.” Bringing their joined hands up, he followed his father’s lead and tilted Taylor’s chin until he could lean down and kiss her. Instead, he stopped a hairbreadth away and said, “I don’t want you falling at my feet. I just want you.”

  . . . falling at my feet. Well, to be perfectly honest, that wouldn’t be such a bad thing, but he doubted she wanted to hear that right now. Not to mention the mere thought of her on her knees before him . . . No! He could not, would not go there. Talk about causing tongues to wag. He was already so aroused he just wanted to leave—with Taylor.

  Taylor’s brows pulled down to that slight frown he found so adorable. “You have a harem?”

  He kissed her, just a quick peck, but a kiss nonetheless. Granted, not the kind he wanted to give her, but if he kissed her like he’d wanted to since he’d seen her walk in the damn door, they would be going upstairs. Or maybe just to the elevator . . .

  “Doesn’t everyone? If I want someone falling prostrate in front of me, I’ll just go visit one of them.”

  “Them, being the ladies stashed at your condo. Shall I call you Hugh? Or Heffner? Or just Sheik Al bin Gavin?”

  Her dimples winked, but he still saw the serious pensiveness in her eyes. This was not something he wanted to joke about with her. He knew what had happened to her because of Charles—the bastard—and he didn’t even really want to tease her about infidelity.

  After he’d cooled off after their pool scene, he’d understood where she came from. Sort of, but that didn’t rub him any less for the fact that she had a tendency to compare what they had now with her previous relationship. They’d already spent the last few days too damn apart for his tastes. She’d pushed him away because of her fears. Or maybe he’d pushed her so she could get a grasp on the situation.

  Gavin sighed and cupped her face in his palm, letting go of her hand. “Taylor, I care about you. I love listening to you talk—”

  “It’s just my West Texas diphthong,” she interrupted, putting both her arms around his waist, beneath his jacket. That simple movement had him sidetracked.

  “And . . .” He stopped. “West Texas what?”

  Her shoulders—which as far as he could tell were the only thing holding up her dress—shrugged. “Diphthong. That was the word I’ve been trying to remember. Jesslyn and I have what, in theater, is called the West Texas Diphthong. It’s the smiling vowels thing. Or that’s how a certain theater director termed it.”

  He had no idea what the hell she was talking about. He knew about thongs, though not her West Texas dipping one. Fascinating thought though it was, he tried to continue. “I like spending time with you. I love to hear you laugh, though I must say I don’t get to hear it enough. And the way you frown when you’re trying to figure something out, or the way your head tilts to the side.” Like it was doing right now. “Hell, I even like you when you’re moody and snapping at me. And I think you feel the same way. I want to know you, all of you, all about you.”

  Her eyes never left his and Gavin caught the wink of a dimple. “Perhaps,” she conceded.

  Their bodies swaying together, her scent of honeysuckle wrapping around the both of them, the slide of her dress between them, under his hand. All this had him praying she wouldn’t turn from him this evening.

  “You and Ryan are staying the night here at the hotel, aren’t you? You both have a suite, though I heard Tori tell Ryan he had to stay in their suite so they could watch movies and practice.” Please let her say yes. If not, he’d just have to persuade her.

  Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips, and he could have groaned.

  “I don’t know.”

  He rested his forehead against hers. “Say yes.”

  She knew what he was asking. He could see it in her eyes, in the way her breath quickened.

  “I—I . . .”

  Gavin rested his lips on hers again, this time not caring if they were in the middle of a dance floor. He traced the line of her mouth, felt it part under his, and he smiled against her, nipping her bottom lip softly as he pulled away. “Say yes.”

  “What about the cutting of the cake?”

  He didn’t give a damn about any of the cake. “Say yes,” he repeated.

  Her head tilted to the left and she scanned the crowd.

  “After the cake? I don’t want you to miss your father’s big moment.”

  Gavin felt the corners of his mouth lift.

  “I don’t want any cake.” Not unless he was eating it alone with her. Or off of her.

  Her eyes twinkled at him and the edges lifted when she smiled. “Say yes.”

  Gavin couldn’t help it, he laughed. “Minx.”

  Both of them swayed to the next song.

  Apparently the woman wanted cake. He’d give her cake. “All right. Yes, we can stay for the cake thing.” Plus it would give him a minute to ask Brayden if it would be all right if Ryan stayed with them till morning. But he didn’t want to let go of her yet. “If we can keep dancing.”

  “Fine, we’ll dance,” she answered.

  “You never said yes.”

  God he loved her dimples, and her collarbone where he could see her pulse pounding just above it. He wanted to kiss that little indention, suck on the creamy pale skin and feel her blood rushing, pumping against his tongue, knowing it was him that caused her heart to race.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  Gavin didn’t know if he was relieved or wound tighter.

  A fast song started and by mutual agreement they both moved to the side of the dance floor. They headed over to the table where most of the family was congregated. Becky was bouncing one baby while Anna made goofy faces to it. Aiden’s arm was draped around his wife’s shoulders. Brayden and Christian oohed and ahhed over the other twin. Gavin still couldn’t tell them apart.

  “You two have fun?” Jess asked.

  Christian looked up from the baby and shared a wicked grin with Jesslyn.

  What were these two up to?

  “Yeah, poor Robbie, just kept looking over at you the entire dance. Really bruised my ego. What’s a girl to think?” Christian said to Taylor

  Taylor groaned.

  “Robbie,” he muttered.

  Jesslyn chuckled. “Yeah, he was checking out Taylor. You have competition.”

  Gavin cocked a single brow and turned to stare at Taylor. “Competition?”r />
  She started to shake her head, then stopping, she sassed, “What? You’re not the only one with a harem. Robbie looks like he might know a thing or two.” At his shocked look, she laughed. “Do you honestly think you are God’s single gift to Woman?”

  “If that woman is you? Damn straight.” This time he spun her into his arms, dipped her over his arm and kissed her full on the mouth, not a sweet chaste kiss, but one born of possessiveness and passion.

  Someone cleared his or her throat.

  “We are in a hotel. Might seem a given, but I’m quite certain there are rooms available,” Aiden drawled.

  Gavin pulled back, straightened them both and saw her eyes were still closed. When his thumb touched her lip, the lids slowly rose.

  “Or the elevator,” Brayden quipped.

  His twin knew him too well.

  “The elevator?” Jesslyn asked. “That’s one I haven’t tried.”

  “You should all be ashamed of yourselves,” Anna Lopez admonished.

  “Small ears and not a whit of refrain from any of you,” Becky lilted, adding her two cents in.

  “Sorry,” echoed around the group.

  “Taylor?” Ryan asked, clearly excited. “Are we staying here tonight?”

  Taylor seemed to finally realize where they were and everything around them. Her eyes narrowed on Gavin with irritation and he perversely smiled. She turned to her son and said, “I don’t know yet.”

  What? Gavin closed his arms around her from behind and swayed to the beat of the Armstrong music pumping through the room. “What she means to say is yes.”

  Ryan looked from him to his mother, back to him and then to Tori, to whom he told, “See, told you. They’re still at it.”

  “At what?” Taylor asked.

  The kids rolled their eyes. “Not getting along.”

  A moment passed in complete silence as the adults sat staring just as expectantly as the kids.

  “No, we’re getting along fine, Ryan,” Taylor said. “I just haven’t decided yet. Gavin thinks since it’s getting late, we should stay. But I don’t want to—”

  “Impose.” chorused from around the table.

  Taylor’s blush crept up her cheeks and she shook her head.

  Aiden said. “Trust me, dear, you and Ryan will be no imposition at all. In fact, there is currently a two-bedroom suite with your name on it.”

  She wavered.

  Gavin leaned down and whispered in her ear, pulling her tight back against him. “You already said yes. Are you going to welch on me?”

  “I suppose we could stay,” she finally conceded.

  “All right!” Tori said. “After Pops cuts the cake, we can go upstairs and watch movies and eat popcorn.”

  “Cake and popcorn, definitely. I wanted to be up all night,” Brayden mumbled.

  While everyone waited for the cake to be cut, Gavin slipped away. There were a few things he needed to do. Arrangements to make, surprises to bring about.

  Cake with lots of icing, fruit, fondue, chocolate, strawberries. The list got longer. He hoped she would like his surprise and not be offended. Knowing Taylor she would be a little irritated at his assumptions, but he’d talk her around it, or kiss her around it.

  He made a mental note to tell Bray they’d have to call his suite and not Taylor’s if a problem came up. His suite was bigger and he wanted everything to be perfect.

  • • •

  The private elevator slid smoothly to the top floor on the north side of the hotel. Soft music filtered through the air around them. Ice blazed in her stomach. Taylor didn't know if she wanted to laugh, sigh, scream—just to relieve some tension—or turn and kiss the man whose arms she was in.

  As soon as the cake had been cut and Mr. Kinncaid gave the first pieces to his granddaughter and Ryan, Gavin pulled her out of the room and down a dim hallway. Now he was leaning against the darkened mirrored wall of the elevator with his arms around her, pulling her back against him.

  “You could relax, you know. I promise not to gobble you up.” His deep voice tugged at her, low and smooth. It reminded her of the promise of storms.

  She tilted her head to the side of his shoulder and looked back up at him. “I know.”

  “Then why are you so nervous?”

  The man had to ask? All Taylor could do was sigh.

  His arm snaked up and around her middle to tip her chin up before his knuckles brushed along her neck. “We won’t do anything you don’t want to do, you know.”

  No, he wouldn’t do anything she didn’t like, or want. Part of her, the woman who had been criticized and demeaned by a selfish man, was scared.

  “What are you fearing so much?” he asked, reading her thoughts.

  She could lie, but she wouldn’t. “That I’ll disappoint you.”

  There was that grin, she’d waited all night for that grin with the devilish light twinkling in his eyes. “That’s not possible,” he whispered. His breath warmed the side of her face. Taylor shivered again, and goose bumps danced along her arms.

  The elevator stopped and they got off. He kept his arm around her shoulders as he steered her down a hallway to a door, where he slipped the key in and opened it.

  Music played here softly, too. The interior of the room was elegant, or what she could see of it. There was a living room, a dining table that sat eight and a kitchen. Plush rugs sporadically covered hardwood floors.

  “I think we need to go shopping again,” Gavin said as he shut the door, leaning against the wall. He tossed the plastic key onto the entry table.

  What?

  “I love that dress on you.” He pushed away from the wall and stalked towards her. Her heart began to race, her blood humming from the hungry look in his eyes.

  His fingers dove into her hair as he pulled her against him, and his mouth crushed down over hers, stealing her breath, her thoughts. His waist was hard and chiseled where her hands rested on it beneath the jacket. He was warm against her palms, his shirt crisp. His scent, male, spicy with a hint of the outdoors, tickled her senses. She could only hold on to him or be completely conquered.

  Before she could even participate in the kiss, he pulled away, skimming one hand down her neck, over her collarbone, down over her chest to rest on the curve of her waist as his mouth planted kisses along her jaw. His tongue was warm against the lobe of her ear, causing her breath to catch.

  “I’m used to seeing every curve,” he murmured. “Dresses that leave little to the imagination. I had no idea this could be so sexy. Every time your arm moved I would get aroused just by catching a glimpse of the edge of your breast. Right here.” His fingers danced up her ribs to the deep side cuts of the sleeveless dress. One slipped under the silk underdress to caress the side of her breast. She only wore a silk camisole under the layered dress.

  “This skin right here called to me all night.” The tip of his finger circled on the soft edge of her breast, just as his tongue circled her ear.

  “Hmmm . . .” Taylor realized she had never felt more cherished.

  “I want you, Taylor.” His teeth scraped over the sensitive skin just behind her ear.

  She shivered. “Oh . . .”

  He leaned back, his other hand joining the first so that two of his fingers, barely even touching her, ignited her nerves.

  “Do you want me?” he asked her.

  “Do I . . .” Taylor could only blink at him. He didn’t know? With a burst of brazenness she didn’t know she had in her, Taylor reached up, grabbed fists full of his hair and pulled him down to her. She kissed him as he had her. Hard. Hot. Passionate, wanting him to know the fire that burned inside her. Her tongue explored the inner cavern of his mouth, dueling and dancing with his.

  Gavin swept her up in his arms, never breaking the kiss. She loosened the hold on his hair and spread her fingers along his scalp.

  The kiss lasted down the hallway and into the bedroom, not even breaking when he set her on her feet. Something tickled her nose . . . Honeys
uckle. Taylor pulled back and turned to see where the smell was coming from. The king-size bed, already turned down, was covered in the blooms, white, gold and pale pink scattered along the white sheets. Candles burned around the room and she saw the champagne chilling in an ice bucket beside the bed. But it was the honeysuckle on the bed that brought her up short.

  She looked at him, standing there before her. Like a blinding light, Taylor realized she didn’t want this to just be sex, to just be lust.

  Honeysuckle.

  “They remind me of you,” he whispered, taking her in his arms. “I know it was probably presumptuous of me to . . .”

  Taylor laid her finger on his lips. No one had ever cared like this, this stupid little thing.

  She leaned up on her toes and kissed him, soft and gentle. Trailing her tongue along his lips until he parted his beneath hers. Her hands moved up to twine around his neck. She let her nails scrape gently along his nape, the hair tickling her knuckles.

  He moved his mouth to take control of the kiss. His hands trailed along her waist to her chest, back and forth. The silk and chiffon material slid over each other with fluid ease. Cradling the sides of her breasts through the dress, his thumbs flicked out and circled the centers until her nipples peaked and she moaned.

  Then his hands went down to her waist, and the slide of bunching material brushed her skin. She felt the hem shifting over her knees, sliding over her thighs. Stepping back, she reached down and helped him lift it up over her head. Gavin tossed it to the chair and stood looking at her.

  Good God. There she stood, her breasts begging for attention under the camisole. Her long, lithe legs sported garters, hose. Pantalets. Had he ever known a woman who wore pantalets? Forget the thongs. Gavin took a deep breath.

  “You are beautiful.”

  Her dimples winked at him. Holding back away from her, he gently removed her camisole. She kicked off her heels. Gavin pushed her gently onto the bed.

  The smell of honeysuckle filled the air as they crushed beneath her.

  “I don’t think, in all my fantasies, I ever could have imagined you wearing such a fascinating outfit,” he told her, standing between her legs hanging over the side of the bed, slowly unclipping a garter. With deliberate ease he rolled her stocking down, scraping his nails gently on her inner thigh, skimming his fingers under her knee, making her squirm. He cupped her calf, wrapped his fingers around her ankle before tossing the silk to the floor and repeating the process with the other hose.