Day Leclaire - The Provocative Proposal

by The Provocative Proposal (lit)

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  He lifted upward onto one elbow. “Watching a movie with my lover. What are you doing?”

  “We’re not lovers,” she bit out. “We aren’t now and never will be. How you could think—” She broke off and closed her eyes with a groan. She’d overreacted. Badly. And they both knew it.

  “At the risk of sounding repetitive, you don’t need to worry about what I think. Just what everyone else will think. And they’re going to think that we’re two strang­ers who can barely stand each other. I suggest you come back to the couch, and we’ll try this again.”

  The calm dispassion of his tone got through to her when nothing else would have and she exhaled roughly. “If I do, you’ll touch me again.”

  “You’re right. I will. And I’ll keep touching you until you stop flinching from me.”

  “You were touching my stomach.” She wished she could see him more clearly, but the lack of lights made that impossible. They allowed him to melt into the shad­ows, only the silvery glint of his gaze escaping the dark­ness. It reminded her of the first time they’d met. Then, as now, the sharp awareness in those odd eyes impacted with devastating force. “Were you planning to touch me like that at the party tomorrow night?”

  “Only if you’re planning to wear something that leaves your midriff bare.”

  “I won’t be.”

  “Hmm. More’s the pity.” He patted the space she’d vacated. “Come on, Tess. Let’s watch the rest of the movie.”

  “I think we’ve done enough for one night.”

  “Not even close. If anything you’ve proven how far we have to go. Do you want this to work or don’t you? It’s your choice.”

  Damn him! Why did he have to push this? Why all the hassle? They could fake it well enough to get by tomorrow. Didn’t he understand? She didn’t want a man invading her home. She didn’t want him in her kitchen or her den or lounging on her couch like some great jungle cat. She wanted her privacy back. Glancing at the clock, she nearly groaned. One hour and twenty minutes left. It was an eternity. Yanking at the hem of her top, she returned to the couch. What had she been thinking to wear something so provocative? So much for trying to avoid being labeled “elegant.” Next time she’d go for head to toe flannel.

  He must have read her mind. “You still look elegantly casual even in jeans,” he murmured close to her ear.

  She returned to the same position as before. For some reason the arm across her waist didn’t seem as alien as before. “Don’t you mean casually elegant?”

  “Not tonight.” He brushed her hair from her cheek and traced the curve of her jawline with his fingertip. “It isn’t just what you wear. It’s how you wear it.”

  She didn’t yank away, but allowed the caress. Worse, she took pleasure in it. She closed her eyes, no longer even pretending that she found the movie absorbing. Had Robert ever touched her this way? If he had, she couldn’t remember any longer. As much as she’d loved her hus­band, he hadn’t possessed the sort of innate sensuality that Shayde embodied. She also found it sad that she couldn’t remember the tiny details about her life with Robert any longer. After he’d died, she’d thought they were burned into her memory, that she’d never forget. But time had betrayed her. Time had betrayed them both.

  For the next hour she managed to accept Shayde’s presence with every appearance of equanimity. With only a few minutes left on the clock, she heard his quiet sigh, felt the air escape his lungs, and knew he would touch her again.

  “Please don’t,” she whispered into the darkness.

  His finger paused just shy of her lips. “Why?”

  “I can’t—” The words caught in her throat and she mutely shook her head.

  “And I can’t help it.”

  He turned her to face him, sliding a hand down her spine to the bare hollow at the small of her back. Ever so gently he pressed, urging her closer. They locked to­gether with delicious perfection. Where had their earlier clumsiness gone? She’d been more comfortable man­gling dance steps and sharing awkward kisses than fitting into his arms as though she belonged. This seemed frighteningly right and it shouldn’t.

  He cushioned her with a tenderness she hadn’t known in far too long. He felt good. So good. “Tess—”

  Someone needed to remain sensible. To show a modi­cum of common sense and restraint. Since Shayde didn’t intend to, the job fell to her. “The movie’s over now,” she managed to say. “And so is our evening.”

  “I don’t give a damn about the movie. There’s only one thing I’m interested in doing right now.”

  She shouldn’t ask. She should get off the couch. The end of the movie offered the perfect excuse. Instead, she lifted her face to his. “What are you interested in do­ing?”

  “This...”

  Shayde cupped Tess’s face and took her mouth in a slow kiss. It was so much better than the one they’d shared in the kitchen that it defied comparison and he almost groaned out loud. There he’d been ruled by the urge to put his stamp on her, a hunter giving chase. But this time, he just wanted to sink into her. To lose himself in her eagerness. And she was eager. She didn’t hesitate as she had before, but slid her arms around his waist and up along his back.

  “Open to me, Tess.”

  It should have come out as gentle encouragement. Instead, the words held a raspy demand. She reacted instantly and a fierce elation gripped him. There was no shyness. No reluctance or apprehension. She struck him as a woman who set goals and went after them with uncompromising determination.

  Her lips parted, welcoming him home and he surged inward, staking a claim. Desire thrummed through him, the insistent beat a cadence that drove him to roll her over and surge between her denim clad thighs. His hand found the gap between the bottom of her shirt and the top of her jeans. Her skin was soft, the muscles of her abdomen rippling beneath his touch. She didn’t fight him. Instead, her legs tangled with his and she kneaded his back in open encouragement.

  He inched his hands upward beneath her knit top, his fingertips finding pure silk. Her breath escaped in a rush and he drank in the sweet moan. Did she have any idea how intoxicating he found the sound of her ...the taste of her ...the feel of her? He was supposed to be in total control. But with Tess, one simple kiss destroyed years of effort and training. Everything that was most primi­tive within him surged to the surface, stripping him of all but the most basic emotions. Want. Need. An over­whelming imperative to mate, to make this woman his and his alone.

  “You don’t belong to me,” he muttered.

  She gazed up at him, her eyes hazed with passion. She moistened her swollen lips. “What?”

  “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

  She buried her face against his shoulder, shaking. It took a moment to realize she was laughing. “Now you decide we shouldn’t be doing this? I thought it was the whole point of the exercise.”

  “We’re supposed to become accustomed to each other’s touch. That’s all.”

  “Considering where your hands are right now, I’d say I’ve become more than accustomed.”

  When had her bra no longer become a hindrance? He’d filled his hands with her, his thumbs playing across the sensitive tips of her breasts. The scent of her per­fumed the air, the silent call of a woman to her lover. She was flushed with warmth and totally open, fitting herself to him with instinctive ease. A hungry eagerness shimmered in the air, a tension building beneath the col­lapse of her barriers. Whether she recognized the signs or not, she was ready for a man. And not just any man.

  Him.

  Shayde shut his eyes. Dammit all! The irony nearly killed him. He’d been working to provoke this sort of response all evening. And now that he had, he couldn’t act on it. She wasn’t his to take, no matter how badly he wanted her. He’d been a fool to force the relationship this far. If he hadn’t been so attracted to her, he’d never have put them in such an untenable situation. But he had and now it was up to him to cor
rect the mistake.

  “You’re not flinching anymore.”

  She pretended to consider the matter. “There’s a rea­son for that.”

  “Could it be that you’ve gotten comfortable around me?”

  “Not even a little.”

  “But you’re physically attracted.” There wasn’t any point in phrasing it as a question. They both knew it was the truth.

  “I’m afraid so.” She caught his wrists and gently pulled. He adjusted her bra and obediently slid his hands from beneath her top. “And I shouldn’t be. You’re my employee, not my lover.”

  “Just your pretend lover.”

  She conceded the observation with a nod. “You’ve proven your point, Shayde. And you’ve accomplished what you’d planned. There’s an excellent chance I won’t flinch the next time you touch me.”

  “The next time I touch you, I may not be able to let go „

  Her eyes dilated, but her voice remained surprisingly steady. “You’ll have to. Our relationship is a business one. It can’t be more than that.”

  He levered upward and forced himself off the couch. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d found it so difficult to leave the arms of a woman. Perhaps if he’d made love to her, he wouldn’t be experiencing this prob­lem. But desire continued to ride him hard, especially when he looked at her spread across the cushions.

  Her fiery hair tumbled about her face in unruly waves, an outward expression of the fire burning within. Her arms and legs were still open to him, her position sheer temptation. Even her eyes were those of a woman caught between capricious wishes and painful reality.

  Slowly she gathered herself into the woman he’d first met. She straightened her limbs, then her clothing. Even her hair subsided into tidy waves. Impressive. To go from wanton passion to absolute control in the space of a heartbeat spoke of an iron will. She stood and faced him. He sensed her barriers were more fragile than she’d care to admit and that he could surmount them with little effort. But he didn’t want her that way. When they came together it would be a conscious decision, not one made in the heat of the moment or through a forced breach in her barriers.

  “I’m going to touch you again,” he warned. “You realize that, don’t you?”

  She inclined her head. “You’re welcome to in the course of business and in the company of others.” “And when we’re alone?”

  Her gaze fixed on his without flinching. “There won’t be any need to touch, will there?”

  “I guess that depends on how well we do in public.” Time to let it go. There wasn’t any point in pushing her further. He’d succeeded in getting her to open to him. Why give her the excuse to close down? “When do you want me to pick you up tomorrow?”

  “The benefit begins at seven. Dinner’s included.” “I’ll pick you up at six-fifteen.”

  “Oh, and Shayde?” For the first time she showed a hint of hesitation. “It’s formal. Will that be a problem?”

  “Not for me.” He should leave. Instead, he returned to her side. Sliding a hand around her neck, he tipped her chin up with his thumb. “Good night, Tess. I know how tough this has been on you. Thank you for trying.”

  She did precisely the wrong thing. Lifting up, she joined her mouth with his. Her kiss spoke of all that she denied, whispering words she’d never have dared utter. She told him he affected her in ways no man ever had before, that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t resist his touch, that she wanted him with a desperation she couldn’t fully hide. He matched all she had to give him with silent words of his own. In that one delicious melding he told her that she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever held, the sweetest he’d ever tasted, the most desirable, most passionate, the most unique.

  With a murmur of regret, she ended the kiss with un­mistakable finality. “Goodbye, Shayde.”

  He didn’t let her get away with such a final dismissal. “Until next time.”

  If the words sounded like a warning, perhaps that was because they were. No matter what it took, he’d have Tess in his arms again. And soon.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE minute Tess heard the front door close, she sank onto the couch and dropped her head into her hands. What in the name of heaven had she done? She'd al­lowed a complete stranger to touch her as intimately as a lover. Not only had she accepted his kisses and ca­resses, but she'd thoroughly enjoyed them.

  “Either I've turned into a frustrated old maid or it's been too long since I've been with a man.”

  Both observations hit a little too close to home. It had been too long since she'd made love. Nine long, lonely years. Until tonight she'd never felt the need to take another man into her bed. Not after Robert. No one had ever attracted her as fiercely as her late husband. But Shayde stirred emotions she'd thought long dead, and it disturbed her.

  A lot.

  She didn't want to feel this way about a man again. Losing Robert had been the worst experience of her life, one from which she hadn't expected to ever recover. As a result, she'd thrown all her time and energy into her job. Now that she was on the brink of becoming the youngest vice president in the company, she wasn't about to jeopardize that for anyone or anything. And Shayde did threaten to jeopardize her promotion by dis­tracting her at such a key moment in her career. Besides, what did he have to offer? A quick, meaningless romp in the sack, that's all.

  Slowly she straightened, her hands dropping to her lap. She wasn't interested in Shayde as a man, she told herself firmly. Her mouth compressed. No. She didn't care about his personality or his background or what circumstances made him the man he was today. Her in­terest didn't spring from such a noble source, but from a far more earthy one. It came from sheer physical desire and how he made her feel when he touched her.

  Well, those needs could be suppressed if not extin­guished, at least for the length of time it would take to complete her association with him. Now that she'd made her decision, she'd take herself off to bed. By morning she'd have herself under control once again. She started to leave the couch, then hesitated.

  Unable to explain what possessed her, she curled up on the cushions. Shayde's scent filled her nostrils and she shut her eyes, shivering. She should go to bed and get as far as possible from the images provoked by the past few hours. Instead, she sank deeper into cushions still bearing the warmth of Shayde's body and relived every minute she'd spent in his arms. If she couldn't have the man, she'd have the memories.

  Wrapped in his lingering traces, she allowed sleep to claim her.

  He was an idiot.

  Shayde paced through the streets of Seattle, hoping the exercise would help him regain control. What the hell had he been thinking? It was one thing to rationalize his actions so far—at least the ones right up until he'd pulled Tess onto that couch and done his level best to make her his own. He could claim he was putting her in touch with her feminine side. Reminding her of how men and women were supposed to interact. But she wasn't for him. He was supposed to be instigating a romance between her and the Committee's choice, and trying to get the delectable Mrs. Lonigan out of her clothes probably wasn't the best way of doing that.

  That didn't change the simple fact that he wanted her. Man, did he want her.

  His cell phone trilled and he snapped it open. “Shayde.”

  “I require an update on the Lonigan project.”

  He grimaced. Just what he needed to top off his eve­ning, a call from the dragon lady. “And how are you this picture-perfect evening, boss?”

  “Immaterial.” Gee, that came as a surprise. When had personal chitchat ever overridden her focus on business? “I believe I requested a status report.”

  A status report on Tess Lonigan. Let's see... She's the softest, most delectable woman he'd ever had the pleasure of touching. The passion of her kisses drove every other thought from his head and he'd have paid any price to strip away her clothing and make love to her until they were both sated. Somehow he doubted his employer would appreciate his inc
luding those details in a report. “Tess is coming along,” he limited himself to saying.

  “Explain.”

  “She may be ready for a man.”

  “Explain.” The word no longer came as a request, hut as a demand.

  Shadoe chose that moment to join in the conversation. “That doesn't sound like the job we assigned you, little brother. What have you been up to?”

  Shayde winced. Perhaps he should have been more cautious in his wording. “I mean that when we first met, tier only concern was business. That may have changed.”

  The boss lady took over the conversation again. “How has it changed?”

  “She seems more open to a relationship,” he grudg­ingly admitted.

  “How do you know?”

  Was she kidding? “Come on. A man can tell.”

  “We had this discussion,” Shadoe interrupted. “Tess is not for you.”

  Inexplicable anger rippled through Shayde. “You shouldn't keep saying that,” he advised through gritted teeth. “Telling a man he can't have something makes him all the more determined to get it.”

  “Forget it, bro. You can't have Tess Lonigan.”

  Shayde paused beneath the protection of a Japanese umbrella pine and shook the dampness from his hair. “You want an update?” he snarled. “Here's your up­date. The lady is focused on her career. She doesn't have any use or need for a man other than as a way up the corporate ladder. At a guess, she's still in love with her late husband. At the very least, she's sexually frustrated which isn't the best foundation for marriage. Happy?”

  Shadoe refused to be drawn. “Tomorrow night you'll introduce her to the man selected for her. Any ques­tions?”

  “Yeah, I have a question. A big one. She didn't ask the Committee for help finding a husband. She asked for help finding husbands for her friends. Why are we in­terfering in Tess's life?”

  “Her brother put her name on our list before she ever approached the Committee. It was sheer coincidence that she came seeking a match for Emma and Raine.”