by Diana Ballew
Isabella looked exquisite in her cream silk and lace gown, her glittering tulle veil flowing over the long auburn hair cascading down her back. Rafe watched her enchant her uncle with one of her dazzling smiles, as he lounged against the fireplace mantle with Alex and Whit on either side of him.
“You’re a bloody lucky sod, you know.” Alex smiled fondly toward his cousin. “She’s already got me father quite wrapped around her little finger.”
Rafe chuckled smugly. “She’s quite a woman, your plain little county cousin is.” He watched Isabella blush at some comment from his mother. He would never grow tired of watching her, of seeing her tantalizing smiles and watching the passion blaze in her eyes. He would never tire of her courage and the kindness of her heart. A lifetime would not be nearly enough time to possibly tire of her or cease desiring her.
“Plain indeed, gentlemen.” Whit snorted. “I cannot even imagine her so. It is a shame it was not I who needed to escape London and that I never plan to marry.”
“Not in my opinion. Besides,” the duke’s eyes narrowed on his lovely bride, “she would have unmasked you in a trice and dismissed you as unworthy, my friend.”
“Ha! How can you think such a thing? The lady would have fallen madly for me, had I met her first, even if I am only a mere viscount.”
“Nonsense, as my dear wife states so often. She needs a stronger hand than you can offer, Whit.” Rafe smiled with pure male satisfaction, thinking how well his little duchess responded to his firm hands on her lovely, pale body.
“Oh, ho! So you say, Your Grace. I do not think the lady would agree. Why, I would wager she would say it was you who needs the strong hand!”
“Indeed,” Rafe said, his white teeth flashing, “I do enjoy her ‘strong hands’ quite well.”
“Bloody hell,” Alex grumbled. “You had best not say such things within me father’s hearing, at least until after tonight.”
Rafe laughed, drawing Isabella’s attention from her uncle. He looked beyond handsome in his elegant formal attire. He looked powerful, masculine and a bit dangerous – and he was all hers.
Finally, they were together, blessed by God and this company. His cobalt eyes met hers from across the room and she felt her heart swell with love and pride. He was so wonderful, so honorable and he would someday make such an excellent father, she just knew.
He loved her and she him and they had a future to share together. His sensual mouth curved up in a smile that had her aching to touch him, to feel those lips on her body. Would she never get enough of him? She hoped not.
“You look rather hungry, my dear,” the Dowager Duchess teased her new daughter-in-law. “Perhaps you would care for a tart?”
Isabella blushed, realizing that her husband’s mother had observed the passionate look between her and Rafe. “I do not think a pastry would suffice, Your Grace.”
Anne laughed. “Then you shall have to think of something else to fill this hunger in you.”
“Anne, you imply too much to my niece. Surely she cannot understand the things you mean.” Hugh Fitzhugh, a large man, whose son closely resembled him, tried unsuccessfully to hide his answering grin.
“Of course, my lord. She could not possibly understand, being only married this day to my own dear and restrained son.” Anne snorted. “Go on, my dear Isabella. Go and gaze adoringly at your new husband while he pats your hand.”
“As you wish, Your Grace.” Isabella smiled at the two and started toward Rafe, who was still watching her with blatant desire shining from his incredibly blue eyes as he leaned so casually against the mantle, his ankle crossed and an empty glass of champagne dangling from his fingers. Oh, how she loved those fingers, the way they could stroke her to such intense heights and tease her flesh until she wanted to scream with passion. Goodness, the room was awfully warm.
“Oh, Bella,” Lisbeth said as she stepped forward and placed a hand on the bride’s arm. “I am so happy for you. I told you he would come for you.” The blonde’s voice held humorous glee.
“Yes,” Isabella replied, tearing her gaze from Rafe’s and clutching her friend’s hand, “he came for me. Isn’t he wonderful?” She looked back to her husband. Tonight, they would again be together. She could explore his magnificent body at leisure, and he could teach her how to please him. She shivered with anticipation, remembering his mouth on her, his tongue touching her in so intimate a place, and how her shock had turned to ecstasy.
“Spoken like a girl in love, all right.” Lisbeth smoothed the skirt of her soft green gown, a slightly wistful look on her face. “I hope I can find a man who will inspire such admiration in me.”
“Oh, Beth, you will. And he will be wonderful to you and you will want only to be near him, to see his secret smiles meant only for you and feel his embrace.” Isabella unknowingly took a step toward Rafe, who was staring at her in such a way she wanted to rush their guests out.
“Goodness!”
“I must go to him.” Isabella drifted forward, pausing to turn back and grin triumphantly at the other girl. “I was wrong, you know. Sheila Dooley is not a ninny.”
* * *
The End
Passionate Desire
Marie Tuhart
Dear Reader
This book was originally published in 2010 under the title: In Plain Sight. Since then, I’ve revised the book and added more than 12,000 words to it. I was able to expand on Joe and Vicki’s courtship and showing how they fell in love.
Sincerely, Marie Tuhart
Chapter 1
Victoria Collins glared at the illuminated display panel in the elevator and vowed to kill the entire maintenance department. She could see the headlines now—Elevator Homicide. TechTronics employee kills because of slow cab.
She couldn't blame her impatience on having a stud waiting at home. All she had to look forward to was a glass of wine, a hot bath, and her vibrator. But anything beat being in this slug of an elevator alone.
She tapped her foot. The display dragged past the floors. She was only at twenty. Would the day from hell ever end?
First, some ass had run into her, making her spill her coffee down her jacket. Second, her assistant had called in sick. Third, her marketing report had never made it from her department to the vice president's office. Three irritating annoyances.
Tonight she had stayed late to update the report to perfection and carried it up herself, not trusting her report wouldn't be lost again. The display flashed eighteen. The seventeenth floor was next— Joe’s floor.
Her nipples hardened behind her lacy bra. She'd had little control over her reactions since he had come to work at the company several months ago. Oh, yes, her breath caught in her throat. Joe had bad-boy written all over him. He was handsome, with a work ethic that rivaled her own. Victoria held her breath as seventeen lit up and stayed solid. The elevator shuddered to a stop.
Could it be him? Oh, get a life, Victoria. Why would he, the company’s newest wonder boy, be working late on a Friday night? He was no doubt out partying with any number of gorgeous women in downtown Seattle. Probably some other poor sap working late tonight.
She kept her attention on the display when the doors opened, wishing the person would hurry up and board the elevator so they could get on their way.
The spicy scent of pure male and citrus surrounded her. Oh, dear Lord. She knew the scent—it turned her bones to water every time. Only he smelled like that. She closed her eyes in a brief moment of ecstasy before the doors slid shut, reminding her of where she was. Alone in the elevator--well, not now.
Her gaze connected with his. Clear blue eyes danced with delight. His black hair was long enough to cause the ends to curl in a sexy way at his collar. His tailored gray jacket covered his broad shoulders, the tie a shade lighter, contrasting with his white shirt. His hands in the pockets of his dark slacks pulled the fabric tight over his hard thighs and …
She swallowed, forcing her gaze away from his incredible body. He was watching
her. Shit. “Good evening.” Oh, Lord, was that her breathy, soft voice?
“It is now,” he said, and a slow smile tugged his lips. His voice was husky with the right amount of sex appeal, and his smile … She gulped. The smile reminded her of a predator who had cornered its prey so they could play sensual games.
He’s just a man.
Oh, yeah, but what a man. Moisture dampened her panties. Damn, she didn't want to be attracted to him, to lust after him.
A loud bang startled her out of her thoughts. The elevator jerked to a stop, throwing her off balance—and straight into Joe Bradshaw’s arms.
“Are you okay?” His fresh minty breath brushed her cheek.
The warmth of his fingers curled around her arms sent shivers of awareness and arousal singing through her veins. “I’m fine.” She forced herself to keep her voice steady and calm, even though her heart raced like an out-of-control freight train. She extracted herself from his hold even as she longed to stay in his embrace. “What happened?”
“The elevator stopped.” There was no mistaking the amusement in his voice as he stepped to the control panel. He pressed his long, tapered finger against the emergency button.
Nothing happened.
He shot her a glance, brow raised, then turned back, opened the small metal door, and lifted up the phone.
How would those fingers feel on her skin? Against her breasts, caressing her nipples, in her pussy? Oh, God! If she didn’t stop this, she’d climax without him even touching her. And she couldn't do that, it would reveal too much.
After several moments, with precise, almost delicate care, he replaced the receiver. He faced her with a wicked light burning in his eyes. “The guard’s not answering the phone. He must be on his rounds. I pressed the emergency button, but there's no response. We may be stuck here for a while. These elevators haven’t been upgraded with cameras yet.” His tone was bland, but the speech flowed through the unmistakable curve of a smile, as if he were happy they were trapped here. He couldn't want to be stuck with her, could he?
Her pulse quickened. “We can’t be stuck.” No, no, no. Not today, not with him. Oh, please, please. Anxiety swept through her. How could she hide her arousal if they were trapped together in this damn elevator? Could he smell the musky scent? With weak knees, she wobbled over to the buttons and pressed. Nothing.
Fumbling with the zipper on her purse, at last she got it open and pulled out her cell phone. ‘No service’ flashed. She shoved it back. Shit. She was stuck in the elevator with a man who oozed sex. Of course, having spent the last six months fantasizing about him day and night didn’t help ease her frustration. She leaned against the elevator wall, trying to keep some space between them.
Why not take advantage of the situation? Could she? No, she couldn’t. After she had been fired for her last workplace romance, she had decided never to mix business and pleasure again. The price was too high. But the Fates had seen fit to put temptation in front of her. The pros and cons weighed in her mind. She didn't report to Joe, so that was a plus. Yet they worked for the same company, and others might see them together, a minus. A plus, she was attracted to him. A minus, she was in lust with him. Oh, damn, her head was spinning. How could she fight herself, Joe, and temptation?
“Are you claustrophobic?” he asked, as he stood a few feet from her. He appeared totally relaxed except for those intense blue eyes watching her.
“No, but … ” Her mouth became dry as the Sahara, and all coherent speech escaped her when he shrugged out of his jacket. His white shirt molded tight across his shoulders, showing off his muscular chest.
“Good. Tell me why you’ve been avoiding me.” His husky tone sent shock waves through her body.
Her eyes widened, and what little bit of breath still in her lungs whooshed out.
He might as well get comfortable, since they’d be here a while. Joe was very conscious of the complication a workplace romance would create, and he'd held himself back until now. But being thrown together in this elevator, he’d be damned if he was going to let the opportunity pass.
At thirty-four he'd had his share of women, but no woman had fascinated him as Victoria did. He’d been intrigued the moment he had caught sight of her on his first day. A woman who tried to hide her sensuality instead of flaunting it was a woman he couldn’t help but notice.
She had a quiet demeanor, but he'd seen the fire in her eyes when someone challenged her in a meeting. He wanted to put that fire there, in a more intimate way.
Right now, though, exhaustion was written on her face. Hell, she'd had this tired look all week. How could anyone miss the slight smudges beneath her beautiful green eyes? Those beautiful sea-green eyes had grown dimmer and more remote as the week progressed. He didn't like how hard she was working.
She had an air of vulnerability around her, and for a moment he almost backed away. But he couldn’t resist the temptation to uncover the sensual woman hiding underneath those dowdy clothes. Maybe a nice hot bath and a massage, then they could get on to other intimate pursuits. Other men seemed to miss her soft sexiness. But he didn't. Over the last few months, he’d seen the way she’d glance at him, then away, when he looked at her. When he turned his attention elsewhere, she’d focus in on him again.
Last week she’d ducked into an empty cubicle to avoid him. The thought almost made him smile—almost. But he’d also noted her rapid breathing, dilated pupils, and pebbled nipples whenever they happened to meet. This was the best sign he’d had to date. She was just as affected as he was by the attraction. Now he had the chance, maybe he could find out what made her tick.
He had to make a move. A preemptive strike. If he waited until she was at top speed, she’d shut him down quicker than a cold shower. He'd seen her do it with other co-workers who flirted with her.
“Got a hot date tonight?” he asked, continuing to stare at her while he draped his jacket over the faux-wood bar at the rear of the elevator.
“No, but I’m sure you do,” she blurted.
He arched a black eyebrow, and her cheeks grew warm. Why the heck did she blurt that out to him? Where was her sense of self-preservation? It had disappeared into the stratosphere the second he’d stepped into the elevator.
“Forget what I just said.” She pressed her fingers against her forehead. This wasn’t her day.
“I’ll let it go. Tell me why you're in such a hurry.”
“Listen, the only date I have is with a hot bath.” How could he appear so fresh after working all day? She knew he’d been in early this morning because one of the secretaries had commented on his sending down several massive reports for typing. He looked so good, it wasn't fair. She tucked behind her ear several wisps of hair that had escaped the twist she wore.
His steady gaze traveled over her body and burned through her clothing. “Hmmm, if we get out of here soon, I’d be interested in sharing.” He stepped forward, his breath fanning her cheek.
“What?” She’d lost track of what they’d been talking about. When had he moved closer? She angled her body away from his. “Sharing what?” His heat called out to her, making her want nothing more than to surrender to it.
“Your bath, Vicki.” His index finger touched her skin and trailed across her cheek, leaving a path of fire and awareness.
He was touching her. Her mind whirled. Was she dreaming? God, she hoped not. It would be too cruel to wake up and find this had been a fantasy. Part of her wanted to sink into his warmth, the other part warned her this could end in disaster. “You know my name?” She could have slapped herself for asking such a stupid question. Her palms tingled with the need to place them on his chest and feel the solid beat of his heart.
“Yes.” His fingers teased her lips before taking a path over her neck to the base of her throat and down to the vee of her jacket.
What was he doing? He’d never seemed interested in her before. Well, it wasn’t like he had anything else to do while they were stuck here. She should be insulted. Bu
t she wasn’t, and she didn’t have a clue as to why. Unable to help herself, she closed her eyes, luxuriating in the roughness of the pad of his finger against her soft skin. Her body craved the sensations, reveled in them, even while her brain protested. This is someone you work with.
“I know a great deal about you,” he whispered, his breath caressing her ear.
She lifted her lashes to gaze at the fine dark stubble on his chin. “Wh … what do you know about me?” Step away, her brain ordered. But her legs wouldn’t cooperate. Her heart beat so hard she thought it would burst out of her chest at any second.
“I know you’re a beautiful woman.” His palms cradled her hips. “And you’re sexy as hell.”
“Sexy?” She gave a harsh laugh. There was nothing sexy about the plain black suit she wore, or the modest heeled shoes, or her hair pulled into a twist and the bare minimum of makeup.
But the woman underneath … well, no one knew about her. How could he have seen through her protective façade? Her insides shook at the thought of Joe getting beneath her carefully built wall.
Joe’s hands at her waist held her captive. Why was he touching her? His grip was gentle, almost as if he were afraid of frightening her. She wasn’t scared of him physically. Mentally, however, was another matter.
“Yes. Sexy.” His blue eyes clashed with hers. “Oh, you’ve gone to great pains to hide it, but it’s still there, especially in the way you move.” He shifted closer.
“Mr. … ” Her hands fluttered to his chest, intending to push him away, but the second she encountered his warmth she was reluctant to leave it.