Fortune's Perfect Match

by ALLISON LEIGH,

  She absorbed that. “Creek sounds good.” She had to push out the words since her throat had gone dry.

  He extended his hand, and she took it, letting him pull her to her own feet. Without releasing her, he turned and aimed for the creek. “Be careful,” he warned when they reached the water’s edge. “It’s not deep but the rocks are slippery.” He let go of her hand and rolled up the legs of his jeans.

  Emily tried not to stare too hard at the muscular calves he revealed. Or at his bare feet. She’d never considered how sexy a man’s feet could be, but Max’s definitely were.

  She quickly rolled up her own jeans and stepped into the cool water, realizing immediately that Max hadn’t exaggerated the slipperiness of the rocky surface when she pitched forward.

  Max’s arm caught her around the waist, hauling her upright. “Careful.”

  She clutched his hair-roughened forearm, wholly conscious of the heat of his body so close to hers. “Thanks. I’m, uh, I’m good.”

  He waited a moment longer, as if he weren’t quite convinced, but then his arm loosened and fell away. He took her hand. “Step where I step.” He looked over his shoulder at her to see that she did just that as he waded through the water.

  She realized he was heading closer to the center of the creek when the water gurgled around her calves rather than her ankles. The bottom of the creek also was much smoother there. Sandier. Less rocky and considerably easier to walk on. “I’ve never done this, either,” she told him.

  “Are you a virgin, too?”

  Shock rippled down her spine. “What?”

  He looked over his shoulder, giving her a wicked grin that could have caused angels to willingly topple. “Just checking what else might be a first.”

  Despite herself, she laughed. Rolled her eyes. “Not that,” she assured. Though considering the other night, even that unfinished taste with him eclipsed anything she’d experienced before. “You?” She turned the question around quickly.

  He gave a bark of laughter. “That happened a helluva long time ago. Courtesy of Stacey Fletcher, who sat next to me in eighth grade biology.” He faced forward again. “She had braces,” he added.

  Emily leaned down and scooped up water in her hand, flicking it at his head. “You’re making that up. Eighth grade? You were a child!”

  He held up his other hand, three fingers extended tightly. “Scout’s honor.”

  “Were you a Boy Scout?”

  “Not even close. But it’s still the truth.” He dropped his hand, only to stop and point off to the other side of the creek. “Look.” His voice was soft.

  She followed his finger and saw three deer quietly grazing in the shade of the trees. But even as she and Max went still, Emily stopping behind him so closely that her hands came to rest on his back, one of the animals lifted its head and stared at them.

  Then, after a long, motionless moment, all three turned as one and bounded away, their tan hides disappearing among the trees.

  Emily sighed happily and resisted the urge to rest her cheek on Max’s back. “Do you hunt?”

  “Never much saw the appeal.” He looked back at her. “Don’t have an issue with people who do, particularly, though. You?”

  “My father will hunt if he can somehow combine a business deal with it. He’s never invited me along.”

  “Did you want him to?”

  “I wanted to be included in anything that would get him to care that I was around,” she said truthfully. “But I’m a girl. And hunting—along with golf and pool and cigar clubs, which I’m also not interested in—are for boys, only as far as he’s concerned. So I knew I’d never have to be faced with that particular choice.” She looked over to the trees the deer had disappeared into. “Fortunately.”

  He took her hand in his again, and started wading forward once more. “What about your mom?”

  “If John Michael Fortune is the quintessential Southern business genius, then Virginia Alice Fortune is the quintessential Southern little woman.” She swished her feet in the chilly water, her gaze returning to Max’s back in front of her. “All she ever wanted in her life was a pretty home and a passel of kids and she’s a wonderful mother. But she positively dotes on my father.”

  “Sounds like you think that’s a bad thing.”

  “No.” She thought about it. Emily had always believed her mother was rather overshadowed by John Michael, who’d always seemed larger than life, and plenty domineering. He expected everyone around him to toe his line. “I just wish that he’d dote on her a little in return.”

  “Maybe he does when you’re not around to see it. How long have they been married?”

  “Long enough to raise six children.” Her gaze followed the slightly strained shoulder seam of his T-shirt down to the tanned biceps that bulged against his short sleeve. “Whatever keeps them together works for them, I guess.”

  “I’ve been told it’s love that’s supposed to do that.”

  “Love. Money. Good old-fashioned Southern propriety. Maybe all three. What about your parents?” His “love” comment had sounded distinctly jaded.

  “My dad walked out on us when Kirsten and I were kids and my mom died a while back.”

  Understanding hit. “I’m sorry.”

  “No reason.” The creek narrowed even more as they came upon several large boulders, and he stepped out of the water on the other side, turning back to grab her other hand and guide her up beside him.

  “It must have been hard, though.”

  “Harder on Kirsten. She thought it was up to her to finish raising me after Mom died. I didn’t make that very easy for her.”

  Emily thought about the woman they’d run into at Red. “Kirsten can’t be that much older than you.”

  “Just two years.” He sat down on one of the enormous boulders and tugged Emily forward, covering her hips with his hands and pulling her right down onto his lap. “I told you I was a hellion. If anyone said turn right, I’d have to go left, just to prove that I could.”

  Her brains were suddenly scrambled. She stared into Max’s face, only inches from hers, feeling the hard muscles of his thighs beneath her. “And now?” Her voice sounded faint.

  “Now, I care a little more about making the right turns for me.”

  She swallowed. He had a nearly invisible scar just below the corner of his right eye that she hadn’t noticed before. One portion of her addled brain wondered if he’d gotten it during his hellion years. “What sort of turn am I?”

  His hands drifted up her back, his fingertips seeming to find every indentation of her spine. “You’re an entire road map all on your own.”

  Shivers danced under her skin wherever he touched. She shifted and rested her hands on his shoulders. “Is that good or bad?”

  “I’ve always loved a good road trip.”

  She felt her cheeks turn hot even though something inside her was dancing a little jig.

  He laughed softly. His fingers moved lightly over her bare shoulder, setting off shivers. “You’re not wearing your glasses today.”

  “I mostly need them for reading and computer work.” She wouldn’t admit to the real reason she’d left them tucked inside her purse—that she didn’t want to feel like a bespectacled geek that day. She wanted to feel feminine. And sexy. Which was the same reason she’d borrowed the blouse from Wendy.

  “You’re not wearing anything under this shirt, either, are you?”

  It wasn’t really a question. She shook her head, anyway, feeling her skin turn even warmer.

  His gaze was focused on his hand as he traced the wide, elasticized neckline across her collarbone to the other side. Slowly nudged it down until it matched the other side, situated just below the point of her shoulder. “And if I wanted to pull it down more?”

  She could barely breathe. “Even though it’s…not smart?”

  His thumb brushed over her bare shoulder, back and forth in a mesmerizing way. He gave a slow, steady nod. “Even though.”

>   She moistened her lips. “I’ve never done anything like this.”

  “Out in the open, you mean?” His hand glided down, leaving her blouse in place. She was unaccountably disappointed. Until his palm grazed over her breast.

  She sucked in an audibly sharp breath. “Right. Open.” She sounded like a breathless idiot and couldn’t do a thing to change it. Beneath the crisp cotton separating his palm from her, her nipple felt achingly tight, exquisitely sensitive.

  His gaze found hers. “Does that bother you?”

  She laughed weakly. She might as well have been ice cream melting under the sunlight. “Nothing seems to bother me much when it comes to you.”

  He smiled slightly. His fingertips curled, sliding a few inches beneath the elastic neckline.

  She held her breath.

  But still he didn’t pull down the top. “Are you on the pill?”

  She opened her mouth. Why hadn’t she anticipated this?

  Because she was more used to dealing with her staffers than she was with situations like this. That’s why.

  And yet, she wasn’t going to lie about it. “No.”

  “Good thing I came prepared then,” he murmured and finally, steadily pulled down the blouse until the elastic was caught over the crests of her breasts.

  Her mind swam. The sun was hot on her back but it was nothing compared to the heat growing inside her. “Prepared?”

  “Condom.” He caught her lips with his in a soft, biting little kiss that made her famished for more. “We’re too old to take stupid chances.”

  If she weren’t in danger of dissolving right over him, she would have cried at the irony. “Are you going to make love to me, or keep talking?”

  He laughed softly. Kissed the point of one shoulder. Then the other. And still he didn’t make that elastic budge. “So, the bossy Emily rears her head after all.”

  Shudders worked down her spine. “Not bossy,” she said huskily. “Just desperate.” She twisted her head around until she found his mouth with hers. “Which is all your doing, anyway,” she accused against his lips.

  “And you’re going to be my undoing,” he returned, then opened his mouth over hers.

  Colors burst behind her eyes as he kissed her.

  She forgot about the hot sun, about the open air, about the creek and the trees and the deer. She forgot everything but Max. The taste of him. The feel of him. She couldn’t get enough.

  Wasn’t sure she’d ever get enough.

  He finally lifted his head, his breath as harsh as hers. He dragged the elastic over her hypersensitive nipples, all the way down to her waist, effectively trapping her arms as well, and lowered his head, catching first one peak in his mouth, and then the other.

  Emily’s head fell back heavily. His arm was behind her back, arching her into him and her hands curled into fists. She moaned, the exquisite sensation of his mouth on her nearly more than she could bear.

  Then his kiss burned from her breasts back up to her mouth again. “We should go back to the picnic spot,” he said roughly. “The blanket—”

  She pressed her mouth against his neck. Tasted the salt of his sweat. She tugged at the bottom of his T-shirt with her trapped hands. “Too far. I can’t wait.”

  He gave a muffled laugh. He pulled the sleeves of her blouse down until her arms were free, then jerked his own shirt right off and pitched it to the ground, not seeming to care that it dragged in the creek.

  Hardly believing that she could be so bold, she reached between them and fumbled with his belt, her eyes greedily taking in the sight of the dark hair arrowing down his hard, bare chest. “You, uh, you always carry condoms?”

  “Not in years.” He worked at her jeans, too, and was much more efficient at it than she was, pulling them down her hips before she’d even managed to undo his belt. “Started again just this morning. Lift.”

  She lifted her rear and he tugged her jeans down even more, somehow managing to pull them and his own clear of their legs without dumping either one of them into the creek. He rescued a little packet from his pocket before tossing his jeans aside.

  And then, despite the sun, Emily shivered as he pulled her back down onto his lap, her legs straddling him. A slight shift of her hips, a quick arch against him, and she’d be able to take him, every straining, hard, beautiful inch of him, inside.

  She trembled. “Hurry.” If he didn’t, she was afraid she would. Not because of the consequences she could be inviting if her appointment the other day hadn’t been successful, but because she ached, positively ached, to have nothing between them.

  He rapidly ripped open the packet and sheathed himself. Then his hands closed over her hips, tilting her against him and she cried out sharply as he sank deep inside her. Stretching. Filling.

  He immediately stilled, groaning, the sound low and fierce and wholly thrilling. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, too overcome for words, and pressed her open mouth against the hard bulge of his tanned shoulder. “It’s just been a while,” she gasped. “Don’t stop.” Even as she said it, she felt him surge against the very heart of her.

  His fingers flexed against her derriere. “I don’t think I could if I wanted to.” His breath rasped against her ear. “And I don’t want to.”

  Thank goodness. She heard a keening sound come from her throat as, with every moment, the entire world shrank down to just the two of them, spiraling ever downward, right inside her, more and more tightly. Her fingers dug into Max’s back as control spun out of her grasp. She gasped his name, suddenly afraid of losing herself completely in the catapult of sensation.

  As if he’d read her mind, his fierce grip suddenly eased. Slowed. His palm slid up her spine. Cradled her neck. “It’s okay,” he murmured. His mouth found hers and he kissed her slowly. Impossibly gentle.

  She didn’t know why. But tears suddenly burned from the corners of her eyes. He caught them with his thumbs. Pressed her eyes closed with a kiss as light as a wish.

  “I’ve got you, Emily.” He rocked slowly, steadily, stealing her breath all over again. “It’s okay. Just let yourself go, baby,” he whispered. “I’ll be right with you.” He threaded his fingers through her hair, urging her head back until she felt the sun on her face and his kiss on her throat.

  Emily opened her eyes. Stared blindly up at the cloudless sky that was almost as perfect a blue as Max’s eyes, and felt more pleasure than she’d known existed blossoming inside every fiber of her being.

  He exhaled roughly, his hands still rigidly gentle even as she felt him surge more deeply, impossibly, inside her.

  Then suddenly, she was there.

  And nothing existed except that pulse of her very soul against his—an endless perfection that hurtled her off the edge of the cliff, weightless and free—with only Max there to cradle her as they landed.

  Chapter Nine

  Eventually, they made their way back to their picnic spot the same way they’d come, through the creek.

  And just as Max had promised, not a single thing had changed in their absence.

  Only she was the one to feel wholly changed.

  And because she did, she took refuge in the practical. The mundane. She quickly opened the picnic basket and found sandwiches tucked neatly against a cold pack. She held them up. “Does it matter which?”

  Max hadn’t put on his wet shirt again, and he spread it out on the grass before sitting beside her on the blanket. He looked more closely at the paper-wrapped bundles. “This one’s ham. That’s turkey. Take your pick.”

  She handed him the ham and reached back into the basket. She was surprised at how well-equipped it was, right down to glass-looking acrylic wineglasses. “Kudos to Mrs. Sheckley,” she said, pulling them out, along with crisp, white fabric napkins. “Here.” She handed Max a napkin and then poured lemonade into the two glasses.

  “To our first picnic.” He took one of the glasses and clinked it against hers. His gaze was lazy. Amused and satisfied and so, so very a
ttractive. “And other firsts.”

  She had no right to feel heat pool inside her again, not yet. Not so soon.

  But she did. And it was dizzying.

  She took a sip of lemonade and carefully set the glass aside, balancing it against her knee, and unwrapped her sandwich. “Will it be hard passing the test for your instrument rating?”

  He smiled slightly as if he were perfectly aware of her predicament. “Tests. I’ve already passed the written exam. Next week’ll be the practical, which has an oral component and an actual flight exam.”

  “Sounds complicated. I always hated tests when I was in school. Didn’t matter how well prepared I was, I always worried.”

  “On the other hand, I avoided tests back then by not taking them at all.” He leaned back against the picnic basket and studied the sandwich in his hand. “Didn’t start caring about passing anything until I finally got my GED and started paying for online college courses.”

  “You’ve also been taking college courses? Along with flying?” She stared at him, finally managing to overlook the starving sexual monster he’d seemed to create of her. “Where do you find the time?”

  “Don’t need a lot of sleep.”

  “I guess not.” She could hardly imagine it. While she’d been in college, she’d interned—barely part-time—at FortuneSouth and had had all of her expenses paid by her father.

  “Once I started my instrument rating, I had to lay off the online courses. Took too much time and money.”

  “What were you taking?”

  “Business.” He made a face. “English. Pretty much the remedial version since that was about my least favorite subject in school.”

  “What was your favorite subject?”

  “Girls,” he said immediately.

  She flicked the corner of her napkin at him. “Seriously.”

  “I dunno. Science I guess.”

  “Right. Biology. I remember.”

  He grinned. “There were other sciences. I remember building a few rockets. One of the few times I ever earned As.”

  “So you had a thing for air travel even then.”