Taming the Moguls

by Christy Hayes

  “I was. I’m not anymore.”

  She hung her head and wished for a cup of coffee. A steaming hot cup of coffee. “Now you feel sorry for me. I think I prefer your anger.”

  He held the pan over the newly stoked flames but looked directly into her eyes. “Gretchen, I feel a number of things for you, and right near the top is admiration. Pity doesn’t come anywhere close.” He looked away as blood rushed to her cheeks. “The anger’s still there. It’s just not directed at you anymore.”

  “We’re still adversaries when it comes to Bear Stream. I believe the development would help the valley, or I wouldn’t be here.”

  “We disagree. Wouldn’t be the first time. Honestly, I don’t give a damn about the development right now.”

  “What do you mean?” She watched him stir the oatmeal and wondered what was going through that complicated head of his. He knew every piece of humiliating information about her life. He may say he admired her, but pity wasn’t too far behind. “Holcomb’s willing to compromise. He’ll consider a smaller number of units and less commercial space.”

  Tommy raised his brows. “I didn’t think Holcomb would compromise. He’s bulldozed his way through so far. What makes you think he’d go smaller?”

  “He wants this deal. With the level of opposition from STS and the environmental groups, he’s willing to consider making Bear Stream a boutique development.”

  “Boutique? Honey, if you want to sell a smaller development to the valley, you need to come up with a different term than boutique. Sounds like you’re selling a dress shop.”

  When she chuckled, the headache that threatened at the back of her skull moved front and center. She rubbed her temples and glanced at him. He was watching her closely. “What?”

  “You have a headache?” he asked.

  “It’ll pass after I eat.”

  He stirred the oatmeal. “Just about ready. Good news, I spotted some brown sugar in the cupboard.”

  “My favorite,” she said.

  “I know.” He carried the pan to the kitchen, doctored it with brown sugar, and delivered hers to where she sat on the couch.

  “You’re spoiling me,” she said as she took a tentative bite.

  “You deserve some spoiling.” He took a bite and nodded. “How much smaller?”

  “Bear Stream?” she asked. “I’d say a quarter the number of residential units, two hotels, and half the commercial space.”

  Tommy choked on his swallow of water. “That’s quite a jump from the original numbers. Was this a set up?”

  “No. He fights big and settles for what can pass. So, what do you say?”

  “I might be able to sell that. If I still have a dog in the fight.”

  “Because of this little outing?”

  He shook his head. “There’s a guy with STS. He doesn’t exactly play fair.”

  “In what way?”

  “He did some digging on you. He discovered your marriage to Ryan and the quick divorce. He wants to do more digging.”

  “Why? What is he hoping to find?” she asked.

  “Anything he can use to blackmail you out of the deal. He wanted to keep looking, but I told him I wouldn’t use whatever he found. I won’t be surprised if STS asks me to step down. If they keep digging, they’ll discover our connection.”

  “How do you know they haven’t already?”

  “I read the file. It’s how I knew about Alex.”

  So he didn’t condone the digging, but he read the results. “I see.”

  Tommy said, “I didn’t want to read it. I told him not to do any digging, and not because I was afraid he would discover our past. I don’t operate that way.”

  “But you read it.”

  “He left the file at the ski shop. I took it home so no one would find it, and, yes, I read it. I didn’t know you’d divorced, and I didn’t know you’d had a child. When Patrick mentioned it, I couldn’t help but read and discover for myself.”

  “I still don’t understand. What would he use to blackmail me?”

  “Your connection to Lowry. He’s a public figure. You divorced quickly and quietly. He thinks there’s something there.”

  “There is something there, but he won’t find it. If I had proof against Ryan, I’d have used it myself.” They ate in silence as Gretchen digested not only the food but the information Tommy shared. She didn’t like the idea of anyone digging into her past.

  “Do you think Holcomb would be willing to go even smaller?” Tommy asked. “Say one hotel and two hundred and fifty residential units?”

  “Only one hotel?”

  “You want boutique? That would do it.”

  She sighed. “I could ask. If you think that would settle with the residents, he might be willing to go that low. He’s invested too much time and energy to walk away with nothing.”

  “That wouldn’t be nothing. It would change the valley for sure, but hopefully in a way we could manage.”

  “It would help your businesses. You have to know you’d benefit.”

  “I would, but the cost might be too high.” He ran a hand over his face. He was tired. They were both running on fumes. “Someone told me once you can’t stop progress. I’m starting to think he was right. Maybe managed progress is the best we can hope for.”

  Gretchen sighed. “If we ever get out of here, I’ll run it by Holcomb. Do you think STS would be on board with a smaller development?”

  “Yes, I do. Let’s hope we have some credibility left to negotiate with when this is over.” He dropped his spoon in the empty bowl. “How’s the head?”

  “Better. I’d kill for a toothbrush right now.”

  “I found a new pack in the bathroom and set it next to the sink with the toothpaste.”

  “Hallelujah.” She set her bowl on the couch to stand up, but Tommy hopped up, grabbed her arms, and helped her to her feet.

  His hands moved to her shoulders. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine, Tommy. You can stop worrying now.”

  “That’s not going to happen.” Before she could brace herself or react, he gathered her into his arms. She felt his heart beat strong and steady as his hands ran up and down her back in soothing waves. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had held her—unless she counted the crying jag she’d had hours ago on the floor. Every nerve ending in her body sprang to life as they swayed back and forth in an embrace. When he pulled back, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Go brush your teeth. I’ll do the dishes.”

  “Tommy…”

  “Go.” He kissed her eyebrow, and her eyes drifted closed. He kissed the other brow, her cheekbone, and the corner of her mouth before he turned her around and shooed her toward the hallway with a tap on her butt. “Brush your teeth. You’ll feel better.”

  Oh, she felt, all right. She felt everything.

  Chapter 41

  Tommy was playing with fire. He knew that. He felt the heat, sensed the danger, but he walked into the flames willingly. As Gretchen had slept in his arms, he’d done nothing but think about the past: what she’d been through, how she’d survived, what she’d given up. Within twenty-four hours, the entire focus of his life had changed.

  He hadn’t had even a second’s thought about work, everything that had gotten him out of bed for the last ten years. He simply didn’t care about any of that anymore. The only woman he’d ever loved was back, damaged and hurting, and his only thoughts were of her. Bear Stream meant nothing. The valley would change or not change, survive or not survive; he simply didn’t care.

  Gretchen would not spend another second of any day alone and hurting. Somehow, some way, they would be together. He would help her put the pain behind her and move forward. He would make sure Ryan Lowry never touched her or hurt her ever again.

  He rinsed the dishes and washed them with soap and cold water. It was the best he could do. He’d owe Bosco a grocery run and a case of beer for use of the cabin. He knew his friend wouldn’t mind.

  Tommy
stared as Gretchen came out of the hallway, picked up the throw from the floor, and draped it around her shoulders. She wandered around the cabin and stopped at the window. She was restless, which meant she was feeling better. She’d combed her hair, and it fell in dark waves down her back.

  He’d suggest a game of cards to relax her and get her mind off the fact that they were stuck. It would hopefully distract him, as well, from wanting to touch her, to hold her, to make love to her. He couldn’t fathom ten years of celibacy. Ten years of unfulfilled desire. He’d spent ten years trying to fill the void she’d left in his heart. It hadn’t worked, but at least he’d scratched the itch. Gretchen was too passionate a person to go without love for one year, much less ten.

  Tommy dried his hands on a dishtowel and went to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth, finger combed his hair with a splash of ice cold water, and inspected the two-day-old beard on his normally groomed face. It was starting to itch.

  Gretchen still stood at the window, staring out at the whitewashed landscape. He stepped behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. He felt her tense, and he gently massaged her muscles until her shoulders relaxed.

  “It’s beautiful up here. So quiet. Alex would love to build a snowman with all that snow.”

  Tommy squeezed her shoulders. “It’s powder. There’s not enough moisture to form a ball. Thank goodness, or it might be next week instead of tomorrow when we could leave.”

  “Good for skiing, I suppose.”

  “The best. Do you ski?”

  She let out a sarcastic laugh. “No. Never have.”

  “You’d be good. You always were a good athlete.”

  “I’m not sure how soccer and skiing relate.”

  “You’re in good shape.”

  She shrugged. “I run when I can. Alex likes to ride his bike or scooter. We’ve got good trails in Chicago.”

  He had to get her out of Chicago and away from Ryan. Would she move to Lower Fork? Or they could start fresh somewhere new. If she wanted the city, maybe Denver or Colorado Springs. “Can’t beat the mountains for the scenery.”

  “No,” she said, “you can’t.”

  Tommy kept his hands on her shoulders. He used his thumbs to massage her neck. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back against his chest. “You’re so tense.”

  “That feels incredible.”

  Her hair fell away, exposing the long column of her neck. He stepped closer, leaned down, and kissed the spot between her collarbone and neck.

  Every muscle in her body grew taut. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m working out some of these kinks.”

  “No,” she said, her voice low. “The kiss.”

  “You have beautiful skin. You always have.” He turned her in his arms.

  “Tommy…I’m not…I can’t…”

  He lowered his head slowly, keeping his eyes open, and kissed her cheek. He moved to the other cheek, up to her forehead, over her brow, and down to her chin. When his lips moved to hover over hers, he paused while their breath mingled. She lifted her chin, her lips quivering, and sealed them to his. Everything inside of him urged him to run his hands through her hair and hold her head so she couldn’t break the connection. He fought the urge and let his hands drop. He wouldn’t push her. Whatever they did was up to her.

  When she pulled her lips from his, he wanted to howl. She brought them back, opened for him, and let him in. He made himself go slow, be patient. She was too fragile, too vulnerable to overpower. The throw fell to the floor as her arms reached up and around his neck. He let his hands drift to her hips but didn’t pull her closer.

  The taste of her mouth brought back memories of long, glorious nights in his apartment. They’d been frantic for each other after years of resisting. He felt that same frantic need but fought it. He wouldn’t scare her; he wouldn’t push her. Her breasts brushed his chest, and his fingers tightened on her waist before he realized and loosened his grip. He wanted to back her against the wall and grind against her, but he stood where he was, aching, throbbing. She inched closer while her tongue tangled with his. They were drawn as they always were—to mate. When her leg brushed his jeans, he groaned, and she jumped out of his arms.

  “Tommy!” Her hands flew to her mouth. “I can’t.”

  She’d aroused him beyond sanity. She’d aroused herself if her straining nipples and slumberous eyes told him anything. She wanted. “You can. I won’t push you. We can go at whatever speed you want.”

  “I don’t want to go at any speed.”

  “Honey, now you’re just lying. To both of us.”

  “I can’t do this,” she said. “I thought you understood.”

  “I understand that you tried once with a man who didn’t know your history. He didn’t know you, Gretchen. I know you. I know what you’ve been through. I know what you’ve missed out on, and I know what you want.”

  “How can you know what I want? I don’t even know what I want.”

  He ran a finger down her cheek. “Do you know what I want? I want you to trust me. I want to give myself to you in a way that makes you feel safe and protected.”

  “I don’t feel safe in a man’s arms. I feel threatened.”

  “Did you feel threatened when we were kissing?”

  “No, but…”

  “Okay. There’s a way, honey, just trust me.”

  “I do, but—”

  “No buts. Trust me?” She nodded and took his outstretched hand. Tommy led her to the blanket on the floor by the fire. “I’m going to lay down right here. I won’t do anything you don’t ask me to do first.”

  She swallowed. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean if you want to touch me, you can. I’ll keep my hands at my sides. If you want to undress me or undress yourself, you can. I won’t ask. I won’t reach for you. You’re in total control. We do as much or as little as you want.”

  “Tommy, I…I don’t think I can do this.”

  “You never get aroused? Ever in the last ten years?”

  Her cheeks turned a luxurious shade of pink. “I take care of myself. It’s easy, and there’s no one to misunderstand. No one to hurt or get tangled in my life.”

  His heart broke for her. “Honey, it’s not the same. You’ve denied yourself for a decade. You can’t go your whole life without that kind of connection.”

  “I was never looking for a connection. I’ve got Alex to worry about.”

  “In another ten years—less, actually—he’ll be gone. There’s too much life, too much passion in you to give up,” he said.

  “I’m not the same person I was before. I’ve changed.”

  “I see you, Gretchen. I feel the pulse in your neck. I see the passion in your eyes. I taste the desire on your skin.”

  “That part of me is dead.”

  “It’s right here, baby. Look me in the eye and tell me you feel nothing. Don’t lie to me, Gretchen. I don’t ever want you to lie to me again, no matter what the reason.”

  She took a gulping breath, and then another. “I feel, okay? I feel regret, and I feel sad. I can’t give you what you want, what you need.”

  Did she really think she wasn’t everything he’d ever wanted? “You’re what I need.”

  “You need normal.”

  His fingers flexed on her shoulders before he relaxed his hold. He wouldn’t punish her because his anger at Ryan flooded his heart. “I need you. I always have.”

  She jerked out of his hold. “I can’t do it. I tried before, and it doesn’t work. That part of my life is over.”

  “You tried once.” He massaged her arms, her collarbone, her neck. “Did he understand or even care about what you need?”

  “No, but that doesn’t matter.”

  “Do you want me?”

  “Tommy…”

  “There are so many ways to make love. Let me show you.” He kicked off his boots, lay down on the blanket, and crossed his arms behind his neck, staring at her. Those glorious breasts straine
d against her sweater as she took breath after breath after breath.

  “I don’t know what you want me to do,” she said.

  “Whatever you want, honey. Whatever you want.”

  She lowered to her knees and wiped her hands against her thighs, once, twice. “I liked kissing you.”

  “You can kiss me again.”

  “Can you sit up?”

  He eased into a sitting position and braced his hands behind his back. She leaned into him slowly. If she were anyone else, under any other circumstances, he would have thought she was being coy. But with Gretchen, he knew her fear warred with her desire. Thank God, for the moment at least, desire was winning.

  Their lips touched briefly, but like a match to kindling, the fire sprang back to life, engulfing them both. Her hands rested on his shoulders, but the position was unnatural and inhibited the full contact they craved. He sat where she told him and didn’t move.

  She let out a frustrated grunt. “This isn’t comfortable for either of us.”

  “So get comfortable.”

  “I’d have to…to straddle you.”

  “Do whatever you want. I won’t move unless you tell me to.”

  “This is ridiculous.” She was frustrated. She wanted, that much was clear. He watched as temper, fear, and desire fought a battle in her mind. He waited and stifled a groan as she lifted a leg and settled over him, her hands around his neck.

  “Am I hurting you?”

  He swallowed as his fingers dug into the blanket. “You can’t hurt me, baby.”

  She leaned in, their lips met, and within seconds, she rocked against him. It took every ounce of his control not to grab her hips and grind them both to pleasure. He poured his desire into the kiss, matched her tempo with his tongue, and let her lead. Her hands fisted in his hair, her hips bowed and flexed against his arousal, and she pulled back, breathing hard. Without saying a word, she unbuttoned his shirt with shaking fingers. “Are you cold?” She peeled the material away.

  He shook his head as her eyes studied the buttons and the flesh she’d exposed. When she reached the bottom, she pushed his shirt off his shoulders and down his arms. She ran her hands over his chest. “You’re so different. You’re strong, but your body’s changed.”