Reluctant Surrender

by Riley Murphy

  “No, I brought Tom with me.”

  “Tom? Shouldn’t you be with him?”

  “But I thought…”

  Of course she thought he’d step in as he usually did when they ran into each other. But not this time. Strangely, Rachel’s disproportionate Dolly Parton figure, which normally turned him on, seemed almost grotesque tonight. Her expertly applied makeup, which he’d always found intriguing, somehow looked desperate, as if she were trying too hard to look good. Maybe she had to.

  Colin didn’t.

  “As you can see, I’m with someone.”

  Rachel didn’t blink. “I don’t mind company. You know you’re the only one I let Top me.”

  The thought of her getting anywhere near Colin was unnerving. “No. Not tonight, Rachel.”

  When she left, he sat back in his seat and tried to get a visual on Colin. Unfortunately, a group of people stood in front of the dance floor waiting for the waitress to clear a spot for them, so he didn’t have a good view. She’d been gone quite a while. Was she still dancing? If not, why hadn’t she returned to him? He balled up the piece of beer label he’s just peeled off the bottle and tossed it on the table.

  He wasn’t the kind of man who worried about where a woman was or what she did, because in general, his woman stayed close. They paid attention and—

  Just then he got a clear view of the dance floor. “Holy. Fucking. Shit.” He spotted her there and sat up straight. She was having a grand old time, jumping and kicking it up with the group they’d spoken to earlier. Slamming around, smiling, grinding and gyrating to an old Madonna tune. That wasn’t what captivated him. No, it was her hair. It had come loose and, damn, was it a sight to behold. Luxurious, thick, kinky, waves of blond bounced off her back, whipped around her shoulders and framed her tiny little face like an elegant cameo.

  While he watched she threw back her head and a few curled strands clung to her dampened neck, sticking there while she unabashedly moved to the rhythm of the song. Totally invested and swaying without any sign of being self-conscious. He couldn’t breathe. She was spellbinding. Just the way she kept perfect time with the beat. It was the sexiest thing he’d been treated to in quite some time, and her hair? God, he couldn’t help imagining those wet curls threaded through his fingers when he had her naked. Writhing. Panting for him. He could almost visualize her dampened locks wrapped around her neck as she extended and offered him room to taste her warm satin flesh while he moved in and out of her. Her skin— Shit, he was getting hard. Rock-fucking randy, knowing she’d be a sensual minx in the sack. Hips that moved like that could send a man to heaven or hell, depending on which he preferred.

  When the song finally ended she laughed and clapped her hands. Mystified at himself and how he was reacting, he continued to watch her. Looking for answers. Her face was bright while her skin glowed from exertion. She was stunning and yet, it seemed she had no idea that she was. Maybe that was the draw. She started to walk off, but apparently they wanted her to stay for another dance. He held his breath until she shook her head and declined. One of the guys from the group, the biggest one, fell into step beside her. Apparently he didn’t want to take no for an answer. Did he just put his hand on the small of her back?

  Ethan shot off his stool, prepared to go get her when she said something to the interloper and looked his way, waving. He was still standing there, staring the big guy down from across the room, when she got back to their table.

  “That was fun. Where did Rachel go?”

  She gathered that mane of hair behind her and lifted it, exposing the dampened column of her neck for his view. The innocent gesture was mesmerizing. Especially when a few wet chunks remained stuck against the skin on her nape as she leaned back and looked at him, those clear, azure eyes bright and shiny. Nice.

  “Is there something wrong?”

  “You have beautiful hair.”

  “Ugh, thanks. I sometimes think it’s a curse.” She let it drop, but grabbed a handful and playfully shook it. “Now do you see why I have to control it? If I don’t, I wind up looking like a lion.”

  “I think it’s sexy.”

  “Really?” She did the nose scrunch thing again, and he chuckled. Here he was aching to get personal with her on so many levels and freaking out because of it and she had no idea. And exactly when had that unflattering expression of hers turned endearing? That’s what he wanted to know.

  “Yes, really.” He leaned forward and ran an index finger down the bridge of her adorable nose. “It’s time we leave. I told Larry we’d be ready by eleven.”

  “Larry?”

  “My driver.”

  She grabbed the front of her shirt and shook it out to get some air between material and skin. He was close enough that he could see right down it. God, he hadn’t been mistaken. She had great tits. Round. Full. Definitely suckable.

  “I thought his name was Greg?”

  “What?” He tore his eyes away from her chest and shook his head. “No, Greg’s one of my pilots.”

  “Do you have more than one pilot?”

  “Yes.” He held out his hand. “Are you coming?”

  “Why? Don’t tell me you have two planes?” She put her hand in his and he smiled. It felt terrific. Her skin was like silk.

  “No, one plane.”

  “Good because I thought—”

  “The other is more like a jet.”

  She stopped short on the sidewalk outside and yanked on his hand to get him to stop. “You’re joking me!”

  “No.” He held up their entwined hands and rubbed his thumb against her palm. “You have the softest skin. It’s amazing.”

  “Thanks. What else—”

  “Ah, here’s our ride, right on time.” The limo pulled up and he waved for Larry to stay in the car. He’d get the door for them tonight.

  “What else do you have besides a boat, a plane and a jet?” she continued once she was settled inside the car.

  “You forgot island, and of course, limo.” He unceremoniously pulled a bottle of champagne out of the bucket of ice it was nestled in and held it up with a grin.

  “Wow, if I didn’t know any better I’d be thinking you’re purposely trying to get me drunk.”

  “All you have to do is say no.” He popped the cork and waited.

  “Is that a warning?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m having too much fun. I don’t want to say no.”

  Her hand shook as she reached for the glass. She prayed he wouldn’t notice. Distraction, that’s what she needed. That and a change of subject. “Thanks for taking me here tonight. It’s been so long since I’ve danced. I had a great time.”

  “Me too.”

  She looked around the car’s well-lit interior and let out a dreamy sigh. The buttery-soft black leather seats were cozy. Warm even. So she didn’t bother fussing with her shirt that had ridden up behind her, exposing a good bit of skin. Instead, she sank back in the seat and closed her eyes with a smile.

  “What are you thinking?”

  She’d been thinking about what a great time she was having, but now all she could think of was… “You ask that a lot.”

  “Look at me.”

  She didn’t want to. Instead she sat forward and kept her eyes glued to his knee. It was a powerful knee, bent and so close and connected to his… Nope, you’re not going there. You’re not going to check out his package, no—too late.

  Her eyes shot up and she wanted to die. Surely he knew what she was thinking now. It was probably written all over her face. She garnered some inner strength, took a hasty sip of champagne and swallowed. “I had fun playing, um, chess with you today.” Which wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the truth he was looking for either.

  “You’ll play better with a little instruction.”

  Somehow she got the impression that he wasn’t referring to the game. Giving herself a mental shake, she tore her eyes away from his smoldering features. Lord love a duck, he was gorgeous and just
the thought that he wanted to instruct her heated her up. Before her imagination got the best of her and she started conjuring some visuals, she said, “You play well.”

  “I know.”

  It was her turn to stare. His chiseled features were so set and serious that she burst out laughing. He couldn’t be that arrogant. Wait, he could. He was The Hypnotist, after all. That sobered her. She took another sip of champagne and awkwardly choked. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh.”

  He didn’t move, nor did he respond.

  A quiet few seconds ticked by and she squirmed until she latched on to the first subject that popped into her head. “A-and Rachel.”

  “What about Rachel?” One of his brows arched as he leaned over and pushed her hair aside. “Your hair’s so soft.”

  With just mere inches between them, she watched as he searched her face, exploring her features until finally his eyes stopped at hers. She wasn’t sure what she expected, but for sure she hadn’t counted on the mesmerizing heat that made her unable to turn away. Defenseless. She swallowed again.

  “She had,” she began, but then he twisted a strand of her hair around his forefinger and she forgot was she was going to say. “Um…”

  “Large breasts?” he offered.

  “No. She has…” Now he was unwinding the strand, only to start all over again. Dang, why couldn’t she think straight?

  “Man hands?”

  “No. No! It was her…” He dropped one loose curl and plucked up another. He smelled so good and there was shadowy stubble on his cheeks and chin. His lips—

  “Clown makeup on?”

  She blew out a huge breath. “Jewels on her eyelashes.”

  “Really? I hadn’t noticed.” He tugged on her hair, pulling her in while he leaned down. Coming closer. Was he going to kiss her? Her pulse quickened and butterflies danced low in her belly. Suddenly she was drowning in the brilliant golden flecks she spied in the green of his eyes. The distance between them, shrinking slowly, purposefully.

  Oh God. Her heart pounded. Breathe, Colin. Breathe.

  “We’re here, sir.”

  She jerked so sharply a little champagne sloshed over the rim of her glass and made a wet splatter on her pant leg. Instantly the moment was shattered. “Already?”

  It might only take ten minutes to get from the boathouse across the lake to town, but when you had to drive it, it was a good thirty minutes. Time couldn’t have passed that quickly.

  He shook his head. “Not at the boathouse. I have something I have to pick up from Ted’s. Do you want to come in while I get it?”

  “No thanks. I’ll, ah, wait here.” There was no way she was going in there with him. She had enough problems handling one hunk, thank you very much.

  When he returned she saw he had a bottle of brandy in one hand and two crystal snifters in the other.

  He settled back in his seat and put the items on a shelf in one of the doors. “Do you want to play a game?”

  She eyed him. “What kind of game?”

  He leaned forward and pulled what appeared to be a flat, magnetic board out from behind him with a flourish. “Checkers.”

  She almost laughed when she spied it. Here she’d been thinking he’d suggest strip poker or naked Twister or something like that. Checkers? “Sure, but I have to warn you, I’m pretty good.”

  “I’m counting on it.” He opened the board, which had all the pieces inside and dumped them between them. “After all, there’s no challenge in the win if your opponent isn’t worthy to begin with.”

  “Exactly. So you better be good.”

  By the time the driver announced the halfway mark to home, each of them had won a game apiece. They had also polished off their glasses of champagne and suddenly Colin felt comfortable enough to make demands. “If you don’t have a checkerboard at the house, bring this one in. Tomorrow we’ll have a tiebreaker.”

  “You’re on.”

  Before she had the chance to say anything more, Ethan opened a panel behind the front seat and she realized it was a refrigerator. “Unbelievable!” She eyed the small tray of plump chocolate-covered strawberries and sighed. “Yummy.” Searching the plate, she found the biggest one and held it out to him. “You first.”

  She expected him to take it from her, so when he put the tray down and leaned over, biting the juicy thing right from her hand, she got flustered.

  “Mmm. You’re right, it is delicious.”

  Flustered and hot, that’s what she was. She knew she was staring, and that was probably rude, but he had a great mouth. Heck, he had a great everything. She put down his half-eaten berry and suddenly felt awkward and shy about eating in front of him. “This is nice.” He pushed the tray her way and she chose one for herself, as she didn’t want to be rude. Taking a nibble, she chewed.

  “Thanks, I agree. This has been nice.” He was back to being intense and his voice was as smooth as the chocolate that covered the strawberries. “Do you always put up walls, Colin? Or is it just with me?”

  She sat back. “What do you mean?” His questions surprised her. She thought she’d been open and accommodating so far. But apparently not.

  He leaned back and looked sexy as hell. “Have you had someone special in your life recently?”

  “No,” she said too quickly. And when he smiled, she realized she should have lied. He was dangerous in his present mood. Dangerous and tempting. Gorgeous. “I, um, had a fiancé, as you know.”

  He sat forward. “Yes, but that was years ago. Surely that wasn’t the last serious relationship you were in.”

  She fiddled with the leafy green crown on her strawberry. “Yes, I’m afraid it was.” She tossed the remnants of berry onto the tray and took a deep breath. “I was never very good at relationships.”

  “If you ask me, your ex-fiancé is the one who wasn’t good at relationships.”

  That was nice of him to say, but she knew the truth. John wasn’t the only one at fault for what happened. “As far as my ex-fiancé goes? I gave up on that relationship, months before he killed it by sleeping with Marlene.”

  “Really?” He moved the strawberries from between. “Why?”

  Why? That was a good question. How could she explain it? She shrugged. “John was my buddy. My college pal who I depended on. Then one night, things sort of evolved between us, and the next thing I knew, we graduated and then we were all grown up, talking about marriage and kids. It was like this whole snowball effect. I liked him, I may have even loved him, but not the way a real woman loves the man she wants to spend the rest of her life with.” She’d never told anyone that before. It was probably the champagne, but even if it was liquid courage at work here, it felt really good to say it out loud.

  “I see. And how does a real woman love her man?”

  She looked up. His voice was husky and soft, and the light in his eyes was sinful. “I imagine a real woman holds nothing back.”

  “Nothing?”

  She shook her head. “Fear is the prison of the heart. At least that’s what I think.” She smiled. “What about you? How do you think a real man loves his woman?”

  “Hmm. First off, I’d say, with real love there is no happily ever after. There are going to be fights and struggles, triumphs and accolades. A real man knows this. He also knows that it’s not about what he gets from his woman. It’s about what he gives her. His loyalty and protection so she can trust him to see the real her without judgment. His word—”

  “In other words, everything.” Colin said. “Good and bad. No holding back.”

  “I suppose.” It was his turn to shrug. “I think these days too many marriages end because of an expectation of happiness or lack of. No one should be responsible for another’s happiness. Can a partner be the vehicle to get them there? Absolutely. But not the ride itself.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. Happiness comes from inside a person. You can change all the external stuff you want, but if you’re truly unhappy, moving, quitting your job or your marriag
e, won’t change that.”

  There was a comfortable silence between them for a minute. And she was just thinking how great it was to have a normal conversation with a guy when he went and wrecked it.

  “What about sex?”

  “Sex?” Her voice sounded pitchy. She should have known they’d wind up here.

  “Yeah, you know. That thing two people do together to show how much they like one another.”

  She smoothed a hand down her pant leg, as if she were smoothing out wrinkles but there weren’t any. And when she spotted him following the line of her hand, she stopped. “It’s fine.”

  “Honey, if you think sex is only fine, you haven’t been doing it with the right people.”

  “People?”

  “Or perso—” His head snapped up. “Don’t tell me that John is the only guy you’ve been with?”

  Her face was as red as the strawberries. And if that wasn’t telling enough, her softly whispered, “So, what if he was?” said it all.

  Immediately his body responded. He was hard and thinking about all the things he wanted to do with her. What he could show and give her. God, the possibilities were endless.

  “Did you have great sex with John?”

  “Really, I don’t think—”

  “Chicken.” He could see she was exasperated. Great. It was a good time to break out the brandy.

  “Really? You’re pouring that? You know, I don’t usually drink.”

  “I know you told me that earlier. Are you saying no?” When she shook her head, he pressed a half-filled snifter into her hand and asked again. “So the sex with John was…?”

  She took a large sip and swallowed. That had to hurt. Her eyes instantly watered and she winced, but didn’t cough. Impressive. “We had an adequate sexual relationship.”

  “Sounds riveting. Adequate?” He leaned back and swirled the brandy around in his glass. “Did you orgasm?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  He laughed. “Honey, I’ve had women beg me before, but not to be pardoned. They like the atonement for the sins part too much. An orgasm. It’s when your pulse races and you breathe real heavy and both legs shake hard until your head caves in.”