She pressed her hands to her chest as she said, “I swear I won’t make you wait long. I’m just not ready… for you or this.”
One bed in the hotel suite was a bad idea. The suite suddenly seemed small, even if it was the biggest place they offered. I pushed off the wall, but kept my distance as I asked, “Any reason?”
She fixed her pajama shirt that I’d pawed a minute ago. “I’ve only had sex with long-term boyfriends, and you … You’re new to me, even if I married you today. I’m not used to your touch, and right now I’m too jumpy to be any good.”
Right. Okay. I’d guessed this was all moving too fast. If I argued, I’d not show her she could trust me. And, as my wife, I had time to show her I was a good guy. The opposite of the man who’d created me. I kept a wide distance from her and headed to the en suite bathroom, and said, “I’m going to the bathroom to jack off.”
“Thank you,” she called out.
There it was. The relief in her voice. I’d never hurt any woman, and we had the time she needed. Everyone would believe she was the perfect woman for me. I flung open the door and said, “I’ll treat you right, Indigo. I’m not a monster.”
She slumped on the bed and glanced up at the ceiling like she prayed.
At least her face was less stressed than my mother’s was, all the years she would do the same thing.
That thought lowered my temperature fast, but I rubbed my stiff hard-on until I choked on my pleasure muscle and released the boys into the sink.
My ass was bare, and my skin radiated a little. I turned to the side and asked with the door still partially open, “Are you watching?”
“No.” Her cheeks were red but she quickly turned toward the back wall.
My cock still had plenty inside him as I called out, “Liar.”
But then I closed the door so she’d not hear more.
A few minutes later, my cock was still rock hard, but as good as he’d get tonight. Every other woman in my recent life was a one-time deal where I’d not had the time or the inclination for more.
Indigo’s kisses had only been a taste of her sweetness, and soon, I’d have more of her. Possessing her body would happen soon enough.
I walked back into the bedroom. The moment our gazes met, she patted the bed beside her.
Fuck. Beside her but not touching her looked like torture. But if I laid there, she’d get used to me.
And she said she needed that.
I’d never been a soldier, but I’d follow her directions, give her what she wanted, and earn her trust. So I didn’t say a word, but I lay down on the bed beside her in my boxer briefs.
I stilled and part of me wanted to reach over and caress her.
I knew she’d liked our kisses.
However, I heard her snore and decided to surrender for tonight. I’d respect her, despite how it killed me.
Somehow, I slept.
My body was still tight, and my arm curled around her, when I woke.
I unhooked myself and slid out of bed.
Once I’d showered and dressed, I noticed the sunlight on her face as she slumbered on her pillow. Somehow it made her seem innocent, which was the opposite of what I needed her to be. Soon I’d taste every morsel of her.
If I had done that last night, maybe I would be sleeping like she was. Probably not, though. I seldom slept well and always woke up early.
The sun was still low in the sky, but I headed to the other room ready to start the day. As I finished ordering breakfast for us, I realized I’d left my phone in the bedroom. I opened the door quietly to get it, but as I stood over the bed, she fluttered her beautiful blue eyes open.
She was the kind of girl a guy bought flowers for, and, if I was honest, I’d never done that for anyone. If I knew she’d want that, I’d try it. She tossed the sheets off her as she said, “I hadn’t expected—”
I rolled up the sleeves of my white business shirt and said, “The sun is up, which means we should get going.”
She sailed past me and headed to the bathroom as she asked, “When is this party?”
Interesting. I crossed my arms while I tried to figure out how Indigo and I were going to work.
“Why?” I asked.
She glanced at me and then stood taller. “The papers will likely print our marriage pictures today and I’d like for us to head to Pittsburgh for a night to tell my family, in person.”
Another sign—despite how casually she took the cash—that there was more to Indigo than met the eye. Like she was one of the good ones, and the kind of woman a man kept for life.
She looked like she was getting ready to take a shower, but I followed her to the door and propped myself against the frame so I slightly entered her space.
I said, “You should have said something last night.”
She let out a soft sigh. “I was … nervous about how we’d fit together, in bed. I’m glad you let us go slower.”
I winked at her and said, “Now we both know I want every inch of you.”
“Soon,” she said, with a fresh blush on her cheeks. Then she wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me.
I’d never had a shot of adrenaline enter my veins that fast. As she finished, I said, “And yes, of course, we can go to Pittsburgh. I’ve never been.”
“First time for everything,” she said.
Confident and sassy… I let her take her shower and called Russ to change the plans with my pilot.
Our breakfast buffet arrived and the staff set it up. I tipped them and as the waiters left, she came out of the bedroom. Her hair was still wet, but she was dressed for a meeting, with a light blue shirt tucked neatly into a form-fitting, knee-length skirt.
No sign of black underwear in that get-up.
Suddenly I ached to toss her onto the bed, find out how pure she was, and claim her. But instead I let her grab her coffee and sit down. I joined her and said, “When we’re in Pittsburgh, you can’t tell anyone about Sun and Moon Trust, especially your sister and brother-in-law.”
She put some fruit on the plate in front of me and a beignet and set a plate for herself as she said, “Not a problem. My sister Georgie is in her old house today as she flew in with Michael to help with Mary. And her husband is the star of the team you now own.”
“I don’t follow leagues and stats anymore.” I looked at the plate in front of me. No one had tried to feed me in years, but I didn’t say a word about it. Instead I just said, “Glad we get to meet everyone in your family at once.”
She winked at me. “Except Stephanie. She’s in London.”
“Of course. I’ve a good memory,” I told her and smiled.
I’d never done anything like this morning. Sit with a woman over breakfast, and just be relaxed. Not since my mom used to supervise my meals, to make sure I ate every piece of food she’d scrounged for me. Not that this was a conversation I’d have with Indigo.
I ignored that tingle in my chest that made me aware of her closeness and said, “We have twenty-four hours and then we head to Florida.”
“That’s all we need. A few hours with my family will probably seem much longer to you, since you’re not used to people expressing their opinions on your life. Part of me envies you that freedom from other people’s opinions.” She smiled as she finished her food and said, “Afterwards, we can stay in my condo.”
A peek into her lifestyle might tell me a lot about her. Russ would handle security, so I nodded and said, “I admit, I’m interested in seeing that.”
She finished her coffee and poured us both more, like she cared about me a little, as she said, “It’s clean, at least. Honestly, I’ve traveled so much this year, I’ve not had much time to decorate or do anything beyond what my housekeeper can handle.”
“Work will have to change now,” I said. Her blue eyes captured my attention as she put the coffee pot down. Only staff at restaurants filled my cup. My heart actually fluttered, and it never did that. I ignored the sensations she sent through my body a
nd asked, “Do you trust Jasmine or Ajax to do some of your presentations so you can stay focused on me?”
She stirred cream and sugar into her cup as she said, “Jasmine is pretty good. I need to train her a bit more, but she’s ready. She just needs the courage.”
I relaxed and said, “Excellent. I need you close right now.”
We both sipped our coffees and let the warm sun of the morning float in from the balcony. Soon it would be stifling hot outside. As we finished, she asked, “What happens if you get your father’s company and you win your vendetta faster than you expect?”
My spine straightened as I stood. “You mean what happens to you?”
She joined me and we headed to the door. Russ always took care of details, including luggage. As we put on our shoes, she clarified her question. “I mean, I signed a contract, and it didn’t have an early release clause. It’s fine if we keep up pretense for the full five years, but have you ever thought about going after what makes you happy next?”
She put on high heels that made her legs look even longer in that navy blue business skirt of hers. I said, “Nothing makes me happy, except winning.”
She looped arms with me and said, “Then we’ll both figure out what makes our lives happy.”
“You too?” I asked, as we headed to the limo downstairs.
The hotel was opulent— decorated with fake gold and white fountains, imitating Venice but missing the true flavor.
She said, “I’ve been so focused on making money to support my causes and open my own business one day, I’ve wondered for a while what I’d do if I wasn’t so driven.”
Causes. There was a story about her shelters. I knew there had to be. I checked us out at the main desk and said, “Find something else to focus on.”
I paid for her staff’s rooms, too, as they’d soon work for us, and once we finished, we walked away.
“Yes, I suppose,” she said, “but what would it be that would be as fulfilling?”
Did running her shelters fulfill her? If so, I could set her up on a dozen boards of worthwhile charities if that was her mission in life. The limo waited and Russ loaded our last bag in the back as the driver held the door for us.
I let her get in first and then asked, “Why do you run women’s shelters if your father was a stand-up guy?”
“Because he was. My mother came from an abusive home when she was a girl. While I was coddled, we all felt it was our job to try to help fix her. She started the shelters on a shoestring budget. I’m expanding them because it’s important.”
There was more. My instinct said the secret was the key to understanding Indigo. When I understood someone, then it was easier to get what I wanted. While that didn’t quite mean I’d use Indigo, it made business easier.
I snapped my fingers and made an offering. “You’ve inspired me a little today.”
Her gaze narrowed but she held her tongue as we headed out to my private plane. As we boarded, she asked, “How?”
The rest of our team took seats in the back. The pilot quickly started the engine as I said, “I was forced to move into my father’s home when I was sixteen. It would be nice to set up a place for teenage boys in the system.”
She patted my shoulder like I’d told her a sob story. “That had to be hard, when you were sixteen.”
We took off. “Not really. He was never home.” The pressure of takeoff cut me off. Once we were stable and the roar of the engine had lowered, I said, “And it was enlightening to see how his world worked—how women were discarded once they hit a certain age; how children were generally ignored, like me; how no one batted an eye at drugs. And to learn just how much he’d known about my mother’s life until she died. It was almost like his obsession to let her suffer.”
“That’s horrible. I can’t imagine you being capable of that evil.” She tapped two of her fingers against my arm, and she hadn’t let go as she asked, “What was your life like before your mother died?”
Hard to remember. I’d blocked most of my early life out of my memory. Dwelling on it had once just made me angrier. But stories came back fast as I said, “We didn’t have much, but she used to read me a story at bedtime when I was a boy. And she cut my hair for me. She checked my homework and told me that drugs were bad, and looked out for me until I was able to look out for her.”
She squeezed my arm gently and asked, “How did she die?”
In the doctor’s office waiting room, pretending she was fine so I’d not stress for her. The moment her hand left mine was etched in my mind. But all I said was, “Heart attack. She didn’t recognize the symptoms and then it was too late. The doctors ignored her, and I didn’t know what was wrong, so I didn’t know how to fight harder for her.”
She massaged me like she really cared. “That’s hard. I’m sorry.”
Instead of me figuring Indigo out, she was figuring me out. I sighed and said, “It’s okay. We’re heading to your home in Pittsburgh and you need to start filling me in your life, now.”
She wrapped her arms around my neck. “Don’t fight a hug right now.”
“I won’t,” I said, like that was automatic.
But her hug made me put my arms around her and hold her. Since my mom died, no one held me. I’d not had anyone in my corner, ever, except the men and women I paid. Indigo made me feel like this wasn’t a business deal right now, and excitement stirred inside me.
Chapter 7
Indigo
Jacob had sent Russ and Frank off, leaving us alone at the rental car.
His muscular arms had held me last night, but I still had butterflies in my stomach. Waiting meant that I fantasized about being with him every second, and this wasn’t good for me.
I never indulged in lust-filled thoughts, but my reactions to Jacob’s form were visceral. And having his strong muscles so close to me just set my imagination off like fireworks.
I circled my temples with my fingertips to stay calm. I’d sent Jasmine and Ajax home to pack up their lives as I was moving them to San Francisco to take up their new jobs. As thanks, I’d offered them corporate housing. San Francisco was one of the most expensive cities in the country, but Jacob had given me a business card for an agency where he already had a contract to arrange housing whenever he needed it.
My first expense. But twenty-five million would cover the cost of having the best team I could without wasting time training anyone.
Jacob drove the streets of my hometown. I knew every corner, every turn, but he’d set the GPS and I let that happen.
Speaking to him only set me off more, and this wasn’t an argument I needed to have. Who cared if he drove? Sitting next to him with my legs crossed and goosebumps on my arms was more than enough to wrestle with.
Next, I’d see my sisters.
My lips tingled. I’d not kissed him since last night and my lips still remembered every detail.
He’d claimed me with those hard and firm lips, and I’d been on fire for him.
Finally, we neared the cul-de-sac where my sister lived, and I sat straight and uncrossed my legs. Cars were in the driveway and on the street. She had company.
“We’re almost at my sister’s,” I said.
He tapped the steering wheel and turned off the GPS as he asked, “Is it the one with all the cars?”
“Yes,” I said. He found a spot on the street, a little further down, and parked. I opened my own door and then walked beside him as we headed toward the old Victorian with a finished basement and attic. I used to kick a ball on this spot.
I said, “I lived here as a girl. We let Georgie have the house as she was pregnant when mom died.”
“That’s good,” he said, and let me walk first up the driveway that was crowded with parked cars.
“Georgie’s not like my mom. She’s strong.”
“I’m sure she is.”
“I’ve always feared I’d turn into my mom if I took on a relationship, so I just avoided men all together.”
“Yo
u’re mine now.”
Guess that was true for the next few years. We made it to the front door, which was open a crack. I took his hand and I said, “Don’t stall. It will be fine.”
I probably needed to convince myself, as much as him. I forced a smile. He didn’t move for a moment. Then he said, “We spent all that time talking about me when we should have talked more about you. Your mom’s story might be good for me to know.”
Mom and me … I was Daddy’s girl.
Besides, learning about Jacob had been interesting. I hadn’t wanted him to stop talking. His voice alone hypnotized me and I tugged his arm as I said, “There’s plenty of time to talk later.”
I steeled my shoulders and opened the door for us. We walked in and I heard my family all laughing in the dining room. We walked through the living room, then the kitchen. A quick scan of the dining room revealed almost a dozen people gathered around the table for eight.
When I was growing up, it had been the same, here in this very room. And when our minivan was broken—as it often was—Mom somehow squeezed twelve of us into the sedan that was meant for four. I called it the clown car.
Now I bounced on my feet as everyone stared at us. Then my oldest sister stood up and I said, “Georgie, this is Jacob Donovan.”
She waved to us to join them and said, “So, you brought your husband home.”
My face felt tight. I’d hoped this meeting was about me.
“You heard?” I asked.
Nicole stared at us and I knew she’d have something to blog about on her clean-living site. She said, “You’re late for lunch.”
I held his hand so he’d not be so tense and then fanned my family with my other hand, like I was introducing everyone at once. I said, “Everybody, this is Jacob.”
Georgie’s new husband stood beside her. I walked Jacob over to them and said, “This is Georgie and her husband Michael.”
“I’m a fan,” he said, as he shook Michael’s hand.
Good. If he liked baseball maybe he’d be good to the team he now technically owned. Or at least he’d sell it to someone who knew about the game.
Ruthless Financier (Steel Series Book 3) Page 6