by Liz Talley
Graham held out a hand to Nick. “I’m Graham Naquin.”
Nick took his hand, a flicker of a frown marring his all-American good looks. “Nick Ashley.”
And then silence so uncomfortable it might have been improved by a dog licking itself...or a kid picking his nose...or Nick saying, “I’m Tess’s boyfriend.”
“What?” Graham and Tess asked at the same time.
Monique raised her eyebrows.
“No, he’s not,” Tess clarified, smiling as if it were a joke. “He’s kidding around.”
“Okay, I used to be Tess’s boyfriend,” Nick said, winding his arm around Tess’s waist again and tugging her against him.
Mood had gone from uncomfortable to knife-in-the-eye excruciating. Like a hound sizing up the competition over a bone, Graham eyed Nick. In fact, he looked as if he might rip Nick’s arm off and beat him with it at any minute.
Aww...Graham was jealous. Warmth washed over Tess and she removed Nick’s hand from her waist.
Monique studied the three of them, narrowing her eyes. “How interesting.”
“Yes, but we haven’t been together since last year,” Tess said, searching for some other way to lighten the moment. Or maybe she should just run. “I think I’ll find Josh and trade in this cocktail for something stronger.”
Nick looked down at the untouched cocktail in her hand. “You haven’t even taken a sip.”
Tess raised the drink to her lips and took a gulp, smacking as she backed away. “Definitely not strong enough.”
Graham suddenly looked—dare she think it?—hurt.
“Wait a sec.” Monique clutched Tess’s elbow, making her drink slosh yet again on her wrist. All three looked at the small woman who had a knowing gleam in her eye. “Did you sleep with Graham?”
* * *
IF GRAHAM HAD BEEN a lesser man, he might have gotten embarrassed at Monique’s query...or cussed like a cabdriver....but he prided himself on keeping his composure. Tess, however, wasn’t as composed.
“What?” she squealed, the glass in her hand slipping to shatter on the marble floor of the Yacht Club foyer. It was a scene from a bad movie. Or a soap opera.
Several people mimicked Tess’s shriek, stepping away as the liquid spread. Tess dropped and tried to pick up the shattered glass, but a waiter moved quickly toward her with a towel and tray, brushing her hands away, as he made quick work of the mess.
Monique shot a knowing smile at Graham—the kind he’d always hated. “How did I miss this? You two have something going on and it’s more than just business.”
Graham gave her a quelling look. “Not now, Monique.”
“Suddenly things are so clear.”
“There’s nothing clear in any situation with you, Monique. You’ve never been uncomplicated, and in my limited experience with your new art designer, neither is she.”
Tess looked up from where she squatted, her expression something between tortured and angry. “Stop talking about me as if I’m not here. And, frankly, who I sleep with—” she glanced over to Nick “—or who I don’t sleep with, is no one’s damn business.”
Monique gave a choked laugh. “Oh, dear Lord, this is so effed up it’s crazy. You never change, Gray. Always find a way to needle me. Sleeping with one of my employees...really classy.”
Nick, who’d stood looking slightly confused, clued in. “Wait. You’re with this guy, Tess?”
Shaking her head. “I’m definitely not with him.”
Tess’s quiet words sank into him. He didn’t want them to be true. He wanted to be with her in every way. If only...
“But you’re not with me, either.” Shooting Tess a look of outrage, Nick stalked off. Graham understood. Nothing like getting smacked in the face with that kind of news along with a pointed message about the night ending with a cursory “goodnight” rather than an invitation to come up for coffee.
“I know how he feels,” Monique said.
“That’s enough, Monique,” Graham warned, giving her the hardest look he could manage.
Monique inhaled and exhaled with great show. “Please tell me this happened before you took a job with her father’s company? Please tell me you didn’t sleep your way into daddy’s good graces because that would be low even for someone like you.”
“Someone like me?” He tried to keep anger from his voice.
“A man who likes to grind his heel on everyone who stands in his way. A man who would go to work for the competition just to rub my nose in it. A man who would seduce Frank Ullo’s daughter...all so he could get ahead.”
“Don’t you dare go there,” he said, gritting his teeth, wishing Monique would shut the hell up. Things were already tenuous between him and Tess. He didn’t need his ex making it look like he’d spent that night with Tess for any other reason than that she’d taken hold of him.
And it felt like she’d never let go...even during those weeks he’d convinced himself it had been a fleeting moment and nothing more. But he’d known even then that Tess was special. That she was a forever kind of girl.
“You love to hurt me.” Monique jutted her sharp chin, her eyes crackling.
“I still have that power? Somehow I doubt it.”
“You don’t,” she sniped.
Graham sighed. “Why do you always think everything is about you? What happened between me and Tess has nothing to do with Upstart or Ullo. Never had anything to do with business.”
Tess edged a shoulder between him and Monique. Pointing a finger at each of them, she hissed, “Both of you, zip it. People are staring...and listening.”
Monique snapped her mouth shut and glared at both of them.
He took several steps back, tossing an apologetic look at Tess. “I’m sorry, Tess. I came to say hello, not create drama.”
Tess looked unconvinced. “Drama has become my stalker. I should start walking backward.”
Graham gave her a tight smile. Hell, even annoyed, Tess looked spectacular. Her dress fit her to perfection, and she’d carefully applied makeup that highlighted her expressive green eyes and pouty lips. Her toned legs looked amazing in the short skirt and strappy sandals, and underlying her sultry scent was the fresh scent of apples. He wanted to whisk her away from the fake laughter and clinking glasses, wanted to go back in time to that rain-soaked night. He wanted to peel the dress from her body, kiss his way along her collarbone and make her shatter against him again and again.
What he didn’t want was her standing there frowning at him. Maybe even setting more bricks in the wall they had between them.
“I’ll say goodnight,” he said, ducking his head in farewell.
Monique nodded. “Yeah, you should say goodnight.”
Tess said nothing in his defense, so there was little left to do than walk away.
So he did.
And ran right into the main reason he’d buffed his dress shoes—Miles Barrow.
“Hey, Graham Naquin, new man about town, I’ve been looking for you,” Miles said, extending his hand. “Gotta tell you, you’ve got competition with those gals over there. When we meet, I’m going to need to be dazzled.”
Graham took the proffered hand. “You think Ullo isn’t prepared to do that? Frank and I have worked up a deal you won’t be able to refuse, but we shouldn’t discuss it now. I’d love to have drinks with you this week or maybe drop by your offices. The sooner, the better.”
“Call my office Monday morning and tell Jules to schedule us a liquid lunch.” Miles grinned, slapping Graham on the back.
Out of the corner of his eye, Graham saw Monique and Tess watching them. The two women looked mildly concerned and he liked that. Graham wasn’t going to let Monique get her stiletto in the Oedipus door...even if she had the magical Tess on her team. After the exchange with Tess on Thur
sday night at the soccer field, he’d dropped by to see a bedridden Frank, seeking his approval on a three-year contract with Oedipus. He knew that as CEO he didn’t need Frank’s permission, but it felt like the right thing to do.
Frank had been weak, but in good spirits...except when Graham had mentioned Tess. A prickly yawn still gaped between the father and daughter. But overall, he saw gratitude in Frank’s eyes as they hammered out a proposal that would give the super krewe early priority in the building schedule, locked in prices and a hefty discount on tractor rental. It was a to-the-bone contract, of little benefit to Ullo, but he’d be damned if he lost this account. Oedipus, with its overindulgent floats and eye-popping fiber optics, had always been a showcase for Ullo Float Builders. Making calculated risks was part of the business, and Graham felt in his gut it would be a good gamble.
“I’ll call Monday morning. Go ahead and get a bucket of ice ready for the champagne. We’ll have a lot to celebrate,” Graham said.
“I like your confidence, Naquin. Can’t wait to see what Ullo wants to do for Oedipus next season. Now go have a good time and meet some of the other members of the krewe. They’re good people who love a good time. No more business tonight—too much wine to drink and pretty girls to dance with,” Miles said before melting into the crowd.
Graham couldn’t resist looking back at Tess, not because he wanted to one-up her, but because he’d hated the way he’d left things between them...hated Monique’s ugly words. Nothing about the way he felt about Tess had to do with Mardi Gras, floats or getting a leg up in business.
No, it had everything to do with something he’d believed couldn’t exist for him.
But Tess was no longer standing in the foyer.
She was gone.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
TESS PRESSED HERSELF into a small shadow on the balcony of the Yacht Club and wished herself away to anywhere other than where she now stood. Stock-still and breathing shallow, she wondered if she stood motionless long enough she’d turn into a statue.
God, she wished she were a statue. Then no one would expect anything of her. Wasn’t there a play or something about a girl who turned into a statue...or was that about a girl who had been a statue and then fell in love with her creator?
Falling in love.
Every little girl’s fairy tale. She’d cherished the wonder of that moment, imagining it as she lay on her down comforter, staring at the soccer posters on the wall of her childhood bedroom. She’d look sophisticated, holding a glass of champagne. And he would be handsome (looking like David Beckham), swooping in, kissing her hand and taking her in his arms. And she would know. Somehow she’d know this was the man for her. Love would slam into her, and happily ever after would be sitting right behind her smiling prince.
That was the way it was supposed to be.
Easy.
But nothing about what she felt for Graham was easy. She hated him. She loved him. Wanted to punch him. Wanted to kiss him. Falling in love wasn’t supposed to be this confusing. Usually, she wasn’t the kind of girl who looked at the glass half empty. But this particular glass from the tales of Tess Ullo’s life looked cracked. No, shattered...just like the one she’d dropped minutes ago, making her look incredibly stupid in front of everyone.
Someone stepped onto the balcony and walked to the edge overlooking Lake Pontchartrain, a stark figure against the light of the full moon.
Graham.
Her flippin’ prince.
Shame, embarrassment, guilt and longing throbbed inside her. The sight of Graham did nothing to relieve it. She didn’t want to deal with him again so she scooted even farther into the shadows, craving some time alone before she attempted to carry out Monique’s directives given mere seconds ago—mix, mingle and nail Miles down to the floor. Monique didn’t seem all that affected that her newest employee had slept with her ex and rival. For Monique, it was always about the business.
But Tess needed a few minutes to compose herself.
Her furtive movement drew attention, and Graham turned, presenting her his profile.
Shit.
“Tess?” His voice was soft as the night spread before them.
No sense in playing statue anymore. She stepped forward. “How did you know it was me?”
“You’re wearing gold and it catches in the moonlight,” he said, moving so close she caught the scent of his cologne. The fragrance wound itself around her just like this man who had enraptured her that night long ago.
“I knew I should have worn the black dress my mother bought me on sale last spring. It was practically made for subterfuge,” she cracked dryly. Wasn’t like she could hop over the railing and disappear into the depths of the lake. She wore her only pair of Manolo Blahnik heels.
“You look spectacular in the one you’re wearing,” he said, a smile flickering at his delicious mouth. Oh, damn it all. Why was his mouth so delicious?
“You’re just in suck-up mode and can’t turn it off. I saw you with Miles. You both looked very chummy.... Makes me wonder what you’re working up for him. Should have kept my big, fat mouth shut.”
“Yeah, but I like your mouth open,” he said, his eyes deepening. This man’s words were silk against her skin, making her yield.
She didn’t want this. Couldn’t handle moonlight and seduction...not when so much was at stake. “Do you? Well, then you won’t mind when I open it and tell you you’re grasping at straws with Miles. He prefers quality above all else. My sketches give him that. Paired with Monique’s offer, he can’t resist. So save your pandering.”
“Tess, I’m just doing my job.”
“Which should have been my job,” she muttered and immediately wished she hadn’t. It was moot. Indulgent. A freaking dead horse. Her inner toddler may shout “It’s not fair!” but the reality was life wasn’t fair.
Suck it up, Tess, and stop dragging that hurt out into the light.
“Touché,” he said, staring out at the boats anchored in the marina, bobbing in the gentle waves. He probably wondered how many times he’d have to hear about something that wasn’t his fault. “I wish things were different for you, Tess. I wish I could make it better.”
Something pinged inside her and made her aware of her constant harping on being usurped. “I have to move past what happened. I have to let it go.”
He didn’t say anything. Just stared out into the inky darkness as if he could find the answers for her there. After a minute or so, he turned. “About what Monique said. You know that’s not true. That night wasn’t—”
“I know. That night belongs to us. No one else. It’s our memory, Graham, and I know you didn’t know I was Frank Ullo’s daughter.”
“Monique likes to paint me as the bad guy.”
Tess gulped back a laugh. “You are the bad guy.”
He moved closer still. “Is that what you really think?”
She didn’t answer. He knew she didn’t think he was bad. He knew she wanted him...maybe even knew she admired the way he loved Emily, the way he stood up for Ullo.
Graham cupped her chin, raising her face to his. The moonlight cast a soft glow on his face, making his eyes soft and mystical. “I’m the bad guy? I used you?”
Still she said nothing.
“Tess?”
Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes. “No.”
“No?”
She opened her eyes. “You’re not a bad guy, Graham.”
He lifted another hand and brushed back a tendril of her hair. “I want to be your good guy. I want things you can’t imagine.”
“I know you do,” she whispered, longing rising within her. How did he always manage to do this? “I thought you were the right guy that night, but everything went so wrong. How could it have gone so wrong, Graham?”
Her words brought hi
m to her. It was as if he could see she hadn’t fully closed the door to him. She wanted him. She couldn’t keep him out.
Wrapping an arm around her waist, Graham maneuvered them both even farther into the shadows. The touch of his body brushing against hers ignited a torrent of desire. She couldn’t resist him.... She didn’t even want to stop him.
Maybe just a little taste.
Couldn’t hurt to have one secret moment on the balcony, maybe then she could let him go. Maybe one kiss would be enough, maybe it would be average and not at all as special as she remembered.
She lifted her face to him...and then his mouth was on hers, hungry, almost punishing.
But she didn’t care. She welcomed the nip of his teeth, the tightness of his grip, the tug of her hair as he tipped her head back so he could deepen the kiss. Like a pirate in tales of old framed against the moon on the water, Graham plundered and she surrendered.
There was no other recourse.
“Tess,” he groaned against her mouth, his hands sliding down to her ass, bringing her hard against his body, against his erection. Like a match dropped onto lighter fluid, lust exploded in her. Nothing average about this kiss.
“I need you, Tess. I want to—” He kissed her again...and again.
Tess anchored his head with her hands as the world fell away. There was only Graham—his hard body and hot mouth moving her to a place where nothing else mattered but a man, a woman and a deep pulsating need.
“Just one more time,” she said as his head dropped and his lips moved against the pulse beating strong in her neck. She dropped her head back, brushing the weathered paint behind her, giving him what he wanted. Threading her hands in his hair, she held him to her, thrilling as his hands wandered over the backs of her thighs, rising to cup her bottom beneath the short skirt.
“Come with me,” he breathed against the valley between her breasts as his fingers brushed the dampening heat gathered between her legs. One finger slid along the soft lace of her panties, drawing a half sigh, half groan. “I need you. Just once, Tess. Just one more time so I can remember forever.”