Baring It All (Mills & Boon Temptation)

by Sandra Chastain

  Malone folded the book he was reading and laid it back on the table, then stood up. His gaze was planted squarely on her breasts and she realized that when she’d leaned over to rub her hair, the folds of her robe must have gaped open. “Let me throw some clothes on and I’ll nuke the noodles. Then you really have to go.”

  “What’s the matter, Sunny, are you scared?”

  She gave a laugh, trying to neutralize the charge of the atmosphere between them. “Scared? Yes, I think I am.”

  He took a step closer. “Don’t laugh, country girl, I’m scared, too. We’ve both been heading for this moment from the beginning. Stop fighting what we feel.” He’d been tense when he first looked up at her, but now that tension seemed to melt, slowing his speech, lowering his voice. “You’re beautiful. You’re smart. You’ve had to scrap to get where you are. We match.” He took another step forward, she another step back until they were both at her bedroom door.

  “I want to see your knit sheets, darling.”

  “I don’t have them anymore,” she said, walking around to the other side of the bed and pulling down the comforter. “See?”

  “Cotton? Plain cotton?” Following her around the bed, he shook his head in mock disbelief. “So, you lied to me. Did you lie about the other stuff as well?”

  “Other stuff?”

  He took her face in his hands, holding it gently, studying it as though he’d never seen a face before. “The perfume,” he said, “and the smile?”

  She twisted away. “Go home, Malone. Please?”

  “Please? Please, kiss you? I couldn’t stop myself if I wanted to. Let me, Sunny. Just a kiss. One kiss?”

  “Will you go?”

  He nodded.

  She didn’t stop him as he covered her mouth with his own in a gentle, persistent tug. When her lips opened, he slipped his tongue inside, caressing her inner warmth in rhythm to the pulsing of the erection that came even before he touched her. For a long minute they stayed like that, then, without releasing her lips, his fingers moved down the collar of the robe to the tightly drawn sash at her waist. He loosened it and let the robe fall open as he pulled away.

  “No!” she whispered, grabbing at the edges of her robe. “You said you’d go.”

  Then his shirt was unbuttoned and her hand was inside, hot against his skin. Her breasts were pert, her nipples peaked against his palm. He let go for a moment, shifting his shoulders so that his shirt was gone completely and he was rewarded by the tentative touch of her fingertips. He groaned.

  She stopped, laid her forehead against his chin and drew in a deep breath. What was happening here? After all her plans to avoid involvement, she was standing here, practically nude, touching him—inviting him… “Don’t do this, Malone.”

  “Only what you want me to,” he said as he slipped the robe from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

  He reached out and touched her breast, skimming it lightly, starting a thousand fires just beneath the skin, fires that ran down every pulsing vein in her body and settled between her legs. Ryan didn’t try to hide his erection. Instead, he unzipped his trousers and let them fall. Then pulled her hard against him. “I have to make love to you, Sunny. We both have to know if this is just a fantasy Sin started, or if it’s real.”

  Her knees were trembling. Her breath was wild and her heart pounded like tom-toms in an exotic island movie. Then, as if they were being orchestrated by some unseen director on that movie set, her fingers tugged down the top of his briefs and his erection sprang free. His eyes churned with desire, yet he didn’t speak. She looked at him and caught her breath.

  He picked her up and laid her on the bed, coming down beside her. “Why’d you change them?”

  “What?”

  “The sheets?”

  “So you wouldn’t be here in bed with me every night. Once I told you about my bed, I couldn’t get you out of it.”

  “And you thought this would erase me?”

  “I hoped.”

  “Didn’t work, did it?”

  He leaned over her, taking one nipple into his mouth. Sunny moaned and a tiny shudder ran through her. Emotion crashed over her and she couldn’t still her hands from running through his hair. Then they were holding him to her, asking for more. He’d been right. From the first time she looked at him it had been destined. This had to happen. She let go of her last reserves, knowing, with what little reason she had left, that she was about to become one of Ryan Malone’s women. He would make love to her, move on and, if what she’d been told was true, they’d simply become friends. Perhaps that was her only way out.

  So be it.

  Sunny closed her eyes, submerging herself into nothing but pure sensation. His mouth left her breasts and claimed her lips once more and the heat, already spiraling out of control, intensified. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were stormy black. “Sunny?”

  “You said your bed or mine,” she whispered. “This is mine.”

  Ryan took a deep breath and cursed under his breath. No condom. He hadn’t expected this. He hadn’t even come prepared and that was totally unlike him. Now her body was melting beneath him. This time she was going with him, and she was in charge of the trip. He couldn’t stop. There was no way in hell he could stop. The tumult raging inside him was new. He wanted to please Sunny but it was more than just sex. His hands were actually trembling.

  “You said this wouldn’t happen until I wanted it. Well, I want it.”

  He looked down at her breasts, full and tanned. The site of the beesting was still obvious. He kissed it. “Are you sure?” he murmured, touching his lips to hers. “You’re very beautiful. Nipples all pink and swollen, begging to be kissed.” His lips encased one nipple and gently pulled on it. Letting it go and taking it back again, while his hands capped her shoulders, circling them in heated caresses. As he moved his mouth across her in a slow, rapt examination of her neck and breasts, he whispered to her constantly.

  “Your skin looks as if it’s been touched by the sun—golden and warm.”

  She couldn’t understand the gentleness of his lips, his tongue, his body. To support his weight he’d moved one leg over her legs, pressing the evidence of his desire against her. He kissed her again and moved a bit more, until she could feel it pulsating against that part of her now drenched in moisture.

  She moaned, trembling now with excitement as his fingertips ranged lower. His lips captured her mouth as he found the source of the moisture. His fingers caressed her, sliding across, around and finally inside her. She groaned and pushed the aching part of her against him.

  “Patience, my love,” he whispered between kisses. “I want to make love to you. I want you to feel my mouth on yours, to draw the sweet taste of you into mine, to caress your nipples.” His kisses moved down her body with his lips, tasting, licking, memorizing every part of her. Until, to her shock, his lips found her ache. She jerked, trying to move away. And then she felt the trembling intensify and her moan turned into a tight groan as an incredible, primitive wave of unrelenting heat racked her body. When the surge of her convulsions eventually died away, Ryan lay across her, his face against her stomach.

  Dazed from the aftermath of the fiery explosion, Sunny lay limp and stunned. Only the sound of slow and labored breathing and the sweet voice of Celine Dion filled the apartment. Finally, knowledge and embarrassment forced her to speak. “Forget what I said.”

  “About what?” he asked.

  “You don’t need any lessons from Lord Sin.”

  “I don’t?”

  Another long silence. Sunny didn’t feel Ryan’s erection against her, but he hadn’t satisfied it and she knew she hadn’t given him what he’d given her. “Malone—”

  “Couldn’t you call me Ryan?”

  She could, but not now. Ryan was tender. Ryan was sharing. What had just happened was…what? She didn’t know yet. “Malone,” she repeated, “what about you?”

  “What about me?” he asked in a husky voice.<
br />
  “I mean…you didn’t. You’re still…aren’t you?”

  “Oh, yes. I didn’t and I still am.” He pulled back and rested his upper body on one elbow as he looked down at her. “There’s just one little problem. I didn’t expect this and I didn’t come prepared to make love to you. So unless you have something in that nightstand drawer, I’m going to forget about loving you all night, put on my clothes and get the hell out of here.” He groaned and added, “I won’t make that mistake again.”

  “Again?” she whispered, as much to herself as to him.

  “The next time, it’ll be in my bed and I won’t stop loving you until we’re both too sated to move—if that’s what you want.” He leaned over, kissed both her breasts, her mouth and then closed her eyes with his mouth. It was harder than he could have imagined. But Ryan knew he had to give Sunny time. He already knew what he wanted.

  If that’s what I want? Sunny didn’t open her eyes. She only listened as he rose from her bed and pulled on his clothes. Then came the sound of her door closing and the strains of a Celine Dion song echoing in the silence.

  She knew what she wanted but she had to be sure.

  RYAN GLANCED AT HIS WATCH. It wasn’t too late. He stilled his breathing, reached down and picked up his car phone, then dialed a number.

  A ring, then, “Hello?”

  “About that doll, Lottie. How do I blow her up?”

  “You’ve been with Sunny?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And?” Lottie prompted.

  “If you think I’m going to share the details of our evening, forget it. Just let me say, she’s still technically untouched.”

  “Sounds like you are, too.”

  “My own choice,” he admitted. “And that’s the problem. Lottie, this time, I’m swimming in deep waters.”

  She gave a measured, “Mmm.”

  “You’re not much help.”

  “Nope. This time you’re on your own.”

  “She’s special, Lottie. I didn’t expect this. I’ve only known her a few days and she’s got me thinking about things I don’t want to think about.”

  “A sinner like you, thinking about a ring and a preacher?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, quietly adding, “Maybe.”

  Lottie let out a real chortle. “I knew it. Speaking of preachers, I can’t wait to meet her father. If he’s half the man I expect him to be, I’m really going to enjoy dinner tomorrow night.”

  “Lottie! Behave yourself. The man’s a minister.”

  “Yeah, but he was a sinner first.”

  9

  THE CHINESE FOOD was still on the counter when Sunny pulled on her robe and stumbled to the kitchen the next morning. The paper bag she’d dropped on the counter lay on its side, a cellophane bag containing a fortune cookie spilling out. As if she were sleepwalking, Sunny heated hot water in the microwave, spooned in instant coffee and powdered cream and stood at the sink drinking it.

  Through the window, the sun, bright and intrusive, was high in the sky. She’d never expected to sleep. But she had, and she’d slept better than she had in months. So long as she continued simply to feel, without thinking about what happened last night, she’d be fine. And for now, the feeling was delicious. The corners of her lips were curved into a smile. She felt…the word finally came to her—alive. She really could run the Peachtree Road Race this morning. Draining her cup, she set it on the counter, then picked up the fortune cookie and ripped open the packet.

  Fate takes you down a dangerous path.

  There was something chillingly familiar about those words. Lord Sin had used them. She tugged the sash of her robe tighter. But the warm thrum of her body didn’t give way to the expected tight anxiety that should have made her face what she’d done. Nothing could erase the memory of having Ryan Malone touch her with his lips. She didn’t think it was the talent Lottie had referred to, but if they’d been giving out medals, she’d have given him a gold. This morning, her body was still singing. It was her mind that stumbled on the beat. But no matter what it said, she knew it had been special. Malone was special. Whatever other talents he had, he was a caring man, the kind any woman would choose.

  And for now, for a while, he’d chosen her. Maybe she was being foolish, but for today she refused to feel either guilt or remorse. Her path was of her own making and she intended to walk it.

  Later she found her scrapbook on the table beside the chair. Ryan had been reading about her father when she’d walked back into the living room wearing only her robe. With a groan, she returned the book to the shelf. Now he knew everything about her father, and how he’d been branded a criminal. The only thing he didn’t know was what happened to get her fired. And she didn’t know a thing about him except he had been born in Atlanta and didn’t know who his father was.

  And that he knew how to make love to a woman.

  But you do know him, she argued with herself. You may not know the specifics, but you are learning about Ryan’s good qualities. Before, she’d had doubts about the men she’d slept with. She’d thought at the time that the doubts were about herself. She’d been wrong. Knowing Ryan Malone had taught her what she liked about a man. What he stood for was what counted. And, she smiled, it didn’t hurt to have talent.

  Sunny moved over to her nightstand and pulled open the drawer. Inside were three condom packets. If she trusted him, why hadn’t she told him?

  RYAN WOKE WITH A SMILE on his face. He was willing to admit that being with Sunny had been a truly earth-moving experience. But he’d thought he’d had awesome experiences before. And sooner or later, the awe had worn off and both partners had moved on. He told himself that would happen with Sunny. He told himself, but he knew he was lying. Sunny in his bed had been his goal but now that he’d reached that—more or less—he knew he wanted more.

  The stories about Sunny’s father weighed on his mind. He went to his home office and picked up the phone. It didn’t take long to satisfy himself that Sunny’s father had been framed. It was his call to the newspaper where she’d been employed that provided the most interesting information. The editor thought Ryan was considering hiring Sunny and, keeping the legalities of their parting of the ways in mind, suggested that Sunny was very good at investigative reporting if that’s what Ryan wanted.

  “But?” Ryan prodded.

  “But, sometimes, she needs a bit of control. As a businessman, I’m sure you know that at times, it is necessary for a few to be sacrificed for the good of all, hypothetically speaking, of course.”

  “No, I don’t,” Ryan said in a deadly low voice. “The sacrificing of just one person is never more important than the good of all.”

  Sunny would never have sacrificed her principles. If she had, it must have had something to do with her father.

  Ryan sat at his breakfast table, drinking the last of his coffee and feeling it burn his stomach like lye. Sacrifice. His mother had been sacrificed for the good of the family of the man she’d fallen in love with. He was meant for great things, local politics, then Washington, and possibly the White House. So they’d tried to pay her off with legalese and threats. But she’d stood up to them in the beginning. The scandal and her pregnancy had cost her her career. Money had covered up his father’s sins. Ryan had been too young then to understand why his mother cried, then drank, and finally gave herself up to the haze of drugs that took away the pain. When the department of children’s services came for him, she was too far gone to know. And as a frightened five-year-old he was relegated to foster care for the next eleven years.

  Ryan was finally going to redeem his mother’s life. The children’s hospital wing would offer hope and help to women like her. It would be called The Helen Malone Center for Women and Children, named for his mother.

  He’d take Sunny to the dedication. She’d understand what he was doing. Then he gave a dry laugh. The Good-News Girl would likely be there on her own to cover the ceremonies for WTRU, not by his side as his
lady.

  After what happened yesterday in the woods, she probably wouldn’t go with him anywhere. The incident with the bee would have been amusing under other conditions but in the wrong hands, with the wrong words, the interpretation could be harmful. He’d have to find a way to suppress the photographs. A quick call to an associate in the investigative services field set the first part of his plan in motion. Information about Edward Hinton and where to find him. The next call was to Lottie to set the second part of his plan in motion.

  Ryan hadn’t been able to protect his mother, but as Lord Sin he’d learned how to protect himself. Now he had to do the same for Sunny. Rising, he walked over to the window and looked out on the sprawling city of Atlanta. It didn’t seem to know which way it wanted to go and had grown willy-nilly, sprinkling buildings and restaurants among old homes that still belonged to the families who’d built them in the late eighteen hundreds.

  Sunny would have loved the Atlanta of his youth, before skyscrapers replaced so many of those mansions. The bright morning spears of light cast a warmth across the rooftops. A warmth that made him think of Sunny. He’d held her, made love to her and, to his own surprise, he’d stopped short of taking her completely. As a child, on the rare occasions when he’d been given sweets, he’d deprived himself of the pleasure by rationing the candy so that it would last. Sunny was one of the ultimate sweets and he was willing to wait.

  First he had to meet her father. Lottie would be there to cushion any awkwardness—he hoped. God only knew what she’d do. Instead of following his wishes that she help him feed Sunny a false story about Lord Sin, she’d given her a videotape. And now Sunny had seen it. He wanted to strangle Lottie. For the first time in their relationship, he didn’t trust Lottie. She’d probably climb up on the table and give the Reverend Clary a demonstration of bump and grind.

  He read the newspaper and spent an hour in his gym. It didn’t help. His body was still remembering the erotic vision in his arms the night before and it was simply waiting. Finally, he pulled out his cookbooks and began the preparation of their meal. He opened the spice drawer and grinned. Sunny must think of him as a complete dufus, not even able to use a screwdriver. He could have, had he not been so involved in listening to what Lottie was telling Sunny. Sunny the handyman, who’d made herself daddy’s girl, but never felt close to him, who couldn’t cook, kissed like an angel and wouldn’t let go of Lord Sin.