by Kathryn Shay
“This is personal. And let me say, if you don’t agree, I’ll find a way to be released from publication.”
“Emma won’t let you do that.”
“I have a fleet of lawyers at my command. I haven’t spent a penny of the advance money.” She put a hand to her head and said, “You know, I’m not feeling well. I think I need a rest. A long rest. I have doctors available to me, if you need a note.”
What the hell?
“All right.” He crossed to a small room off the studio and closed the door. “Give me your best shot.”
She handed him a freaking piece of paper. Folding her arms across her chest, she said, “Go ahead and read it.”
He looked down.
#1 The Pickles Series will be turned over to another editor, who will supervise everything involving Alexandra Marcello.
#2 Ryder Reynolds will not contact Ms. Marcello personally.
#3 Ryder Reynolds will not do anything to sabotage Ms. Marcello’s work.
There were three more demands, but he stopped reading. “What’s this all about?”
“I don’t want any contact with you, personally or professionally.”
If she was trying, she’d succeeded in getting his back up. “That isn’t for you to decide.”
“As I said, I’ll pull the books if you don’t agree.”
“And never get a contract again. By any other publisher.”
She had the gall to laugh, though it was filled with disgust. “I can make a statement that will imply sexual harassment.”
“Baby, if anybody’s been sexually harassed, it’s me.”
She didn’t even react to the barb. “Go ahead, you have more to lose than I do.”
With that, she walked out, mumbling under her breath, “Bastardo.”
Ryder was bereft.
* * *
Alexandra awakened with a start, her heart beating fast. The room was pitch-black except for the clock, which said two a.m. Dio Mio, someone was knocking on the outer door of her suite. She bolted out of bed and hurried into the living area. Frantic that something had happened to her family, she flung open the door.
Her heart continued into overdrive when she saw Ryder. He leaned against the jamb, his hair askew around his ragged face, his eyes red. “We have to talk.”
Lexy recoiled from him as if she’d been burned by a hot poker. She couldn’t do this again. The seesaw was too painful. She’d held up today at the photo shoot by sheer force of will. “No way am I falling for anything else you have to say or do. Leave me alone.”
“I left you alone for five days.” With that, he pushed his way in, forcing her back a few feet. Still facing her, he shut the door none too gently and plopped his hands on his hips. “Our separation isn’t working.”
She lifted her chin. She had some pride. “What do you mean?”
“I’m miserable. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Tears welled in her eyes. The first few trickled down her cheek. They tasted salty, so she scrubbed her face to rid herself of them. “You have a freaking girlfriend. Why did you string me along like this? Why are you still doing it?” Now she bunched her hands on her hips. “To make me more malleable when we work on the books?”
“What?” His jaw dropped. “No, of course not.” He raked his hair off his face. “I have something to tell you.”
“Nothing I want to hear.”
“You’ll want to hear this.”
“How could you know that?”
“Because I think you’re in love with me.” He stepped closer and cradled her cheek in his palm. “And I’m in love with you.”
Flinging him off, backing up to the chair, she dropped down on the cushion and covered her face with her hands.
She felt him kneeling down in front of her. He eased her hands away. “I’d been seeing Elena off and on for a few years. The arrangement suited us both, until you came along.”
“You invited her to our party.”
“Weeks ago, and yes, I did that when I realized I was falling for you. I had to put distance between us. You and me.”
“You succeeded.”
He brushed his knuckles down her cheek. “You’ve had me tied up in so many knots, I’d forgotten about the invitation.”
Hope fluttered in her chest. Damn him. “What are you saying?”
“I’m not seeing Elena again. I told her after the party.”
She gripped her hands in front of her.
“I want to be with you. As you said, we’ll do this surreptitiously. I hate the idea of sneaking around, but sweetheart, I don’t have any choice.”
“Of course you do.”
“Then I choose you, Alexandra.”
Chapter 11
Ryder studied her face. His whole future depended on what she said, what she did. She could crush him with one word: No.
Uncurling her hands, she took his into hers. “I do love you. And I want to see where this goes between us. Find out if we have something real together.”
He lowered his head. He had to get a grip. He didn’t want his own reactions to her forgiveness to cloud the night.
“Ryder, don’t hide your feelings from me.”
She’d read his mind. Briefly, he wondered if their whole relationship would be that way. But, God, she’d given him the chance to find out. He raised his head. “I’m...moved. Emotional, that you said yes.”
He smiled, and she smiled back.
“Stand up, Ryder.” He did and she rose, too.“I want to make love.” She motioned to the suite. “Preferably in a bed.”
“You want that now?”
The corners of her mouth turned up. “I’ve wanted that practically since the day we met.”
He closed his eyes. “I’m not prepared. I’m sorry, I didn’t think this would happen.”
She chuckled. “I’m prepared. Francesca, Brie and Ravenna all made sure I had condoms. They...suspected something like this might happen. Frankie put hers in my nightstand.”
“Bless them.” His arm went around her back, the other under her knees. He scooped her up and she cuddled into his chest like she’d been doing it forever. He kissed the top of her head. “Through that door, right?”
“Uh-huh,” she mumbled against his sweater.
He strode to the room and crossed quickly to the bed. He relished the feel of her as he let her slide down his body to her feet. Then he noticed what she wore. “Wow!”
A peach, satiny gown flowed to her knees. With all the gentleness he could muster, he kissed one skinny strap, then lowered it. Kissed the other, eased off that one. Holding up the top, she stopped him there.
“You’re still wearing your coat, Ryder. And take off your sweater.”
His leather jacket hit the floor, then he dragged the sweater over his head, along with the tee beneath it. Tossed that aside too. Immediately, she ran her hands through the hair on his chest. Leaning into him, she sniffed. That little reaction made him hard. Very hard. “You smell wonderful.”
He buried his face in her neck. “You smell better. Like flowers and fruit mixed together.”
Lifting his hand, he grasped the gown and eased it off of her. She stepped back for his appraisal, and it shocked him she’d be so bold.
But he appraised: high firm breasts, of a size that would fit in his palm. Her body tapered into a smaller than he thought waist, flared more than he thought at her hips. Her legs were impossibly long for her size. “You are every man’s dream, Alexandra.”
“But I’m only yours to have.” Without self-consciousness, she unsnapped his jeans, pushed them down, then knelt before him. The mane of dark hair cloaked her back as she slipped off his shoes and socks and rid him of his jeans. On her journey back up, she stopped at his groin. Gently she caressed it. “Very impressive, Ryder. Very, very impressive.”
He turned to granite. She chuckled as he pulsed in her fingers. Holy mother of God! But he wasn’t going to go off like a teenage boy with his first girl. He drew her up an
d then lowered his mouth to hers.
First kisses were supposed to be gentle and he restrained himself as much as he could. But she whispered, “More,” and darted her tongue inside his mouth.
Ryder stopped thinking then.
Lexy was caught on a wave of pure lust and she rode it willingly. He pressed his mouth into hers. She responded, gave back more. For her own pleasure, she slid one of her legs between his, and the friction of his thigh lessened some of the ache between hers. His hands went to her breasts; she moved away to give him access. His fingers kneaded her nipples; she was grateful when he replaced them with his mouth. But this still wasn’t enough.
He must have felt it too, because he said, “The bed,” and lowered her down to the edge. While she scrambled back into the unmade covers, he opened the drawer, took out a condom and sheathed himself. Then he followed her so they were stretched out on the mattress facing each other. “You are so lovely,” he whispered.
“No more words, Ryder. I want you now.”
His grin was his silent answer. Slowly, he settled her back. Her hair fanned the pillow in long thick waves. Her eyes, in the light of the nightstand, glowed. And they were full of love for him. Climbing between her legs, he slid another pillow beneath her bottom. She arched her back and pelvis, telling him she was ready. Inserting his finger into her, he tested her wetness and it told him all there was to know. Then he knelt up and pushed inside her. His mind shot sparks everywhere in his body. She was tight, but supple when she closed around him. Praying he could last, he began to move. In and out, once, twice. She put her hands on his waist and pulled him forward forcing him into a powerful thrust.
Which made her start to spiral.
His mind blanked.
Pure sensation consumed her.
Erotic flames burned him up.
Together, they burst into wave after wave of ecstasy.
When he could move, he gathered her to him, and dragged up the covers. He said, “I love you,” and kissed her head.
She whispered, “Il mio amore.”
* * *
Ryder was jolted out of a deep, sated sleep to find himself violently aroused. Alexandra knelt between his legs, doing sinful things to his penis. “Arrgh,” he grunted, reaching for her.
“Well, it’s about time I woke you up.”
“I’m up all right,” he said with a laugh.
“Hmm.” She bent her head and kissed the tip of him.
“Good Lord. Who are you, and what happened to the demure Alexandra I met a month ago?”
“I was hiding inside her.”
She straddled his hips and guided him to her. Inch by inch, she impaled herself on him.
He practically growled, “Oh. My. God.”
Shaking her hair back, her breasts thrusting forward, she rode him. It didn’t take long before they once again came together in a huge and intense orgasm.
* * *
Lexy awoke to brightness. The blinds were half open and the day filtered into the room. Ryder’s warm body clamped her to him from behind, his legs scissoring hers. She felt...possessed.
He snored softly. Poor Ryder. He’d probably expected a blushing, Victorian bride. He said as much in the wee hours.
Good Lord. Who are you and what happened to the demure Alexandra I met a month ago?
Smiling, she’d answer that today.
But now, she thought dreamily, she’d bask in what had happened to bring them to this point...his coming here...how miserable he was...how he professed his love...how she gave in. And the delicious ending.
He stirred.
“Hmm, you’re awake,” she said.
“How did you know?”
“I sensed it.” Turning to face him, she saw his eyes were slumberous, a sexy blue.
He tipped her chin. “’Morning.”
“Good morning.”
“Last night happened, right?”
“It did.”
A vee formed with his brows. “Was I rough...did I bruise you...? God, I was so crazy to have you....” He stopped, cocked his head. “Wait a sec. You gave as good as you got. You’re experienced.”
She raised up and braced her forearms on his chest. His long hair was beautifully mussed and there was a red spot on his neck. “I am.” She touched the blemish. “Did I do this?”
“What is it?”
“A red spot.”
“You gave me a hickey?”
She laughed. “I guess I did. Sorry.”
Shoving up on the pillows and taking her with him, he held her gaze. “Okay, baby, spill.”
“I wasn’t what you expected.”
“Hell no. Not that I’m complaining.”
“I’m glad.”
He grasped a handful of locks and tugged her closer. “So?”
“Where I come from, premarital sex isn’t frowned upon. Just as with boys, society expects girls to have experience.”
“Wow. Were there a lot of guys for those girls?”
“Depends. Believe it or not, some families have arranged marriages. There’s only one boy then.”
“You must have escaped that. To be here with me.”
“I did. But there still was only one boy. Santino.” Who she’d been betrothed to until her father dictated differently.
“He must have known a lot.”
“Nah. We fumbled at first. But my older sisters saved the day and told me stuff, which I told him. After that, we both got much better at sex.”
He laughed. “Obviously.”
“So, Ryder Reynolds, how do we proceed?”
“Any way you want, sweetheart.” The intonation was sexual.
“Already?”
“It’s been hours.” He flipped her fast. “And maybe I can teach you some things that Santino didn’t know.”
Later, they checked the clock. “It’s eight,” Ryder told her as they stretched out on the bed. “You’re not going home to your family now, are you?”
“Nope.”
“Should you cancel your plane reservations?”
“I didn’t send for the plane. But I knew before the photo shoot today that I couldn’t keep this up—seeing you and not having what I want from you. So I lied about my plans.”
“Send for the plane?”
“My family owns a private jet.”
“I see.” He decided not to ask more questions. “So, you finished all the filming yesterday except for your promo headshots, which can be done any time.”
“I know. But you still have to go in. You’re vice president.”
“I’m not going in. Because I’m vice president, I can take an unplanned personal day.”
Her grin gave the sun a run for its money.
“So, what should we do?”
“Nothing in public. Remember?”
“Well, public in the city. Let’s order breakfast, get dressed and we’ll go to a place we won’t be recognized.”
* * *
“Okay, love. Pick what movie you’d like to see.” Ryder motioned to the theater’s billboard which announced the films showing. He’d driven an hour outside of the New York to PlayLand, a huge entertainment arena for adults. Briefly, she wondered how many other people here did not want to be seen.
She stared at the list. “I’m afraid I don’t know what any of these are about.”
“Seriously?”
She nodded. “You pick.”
Nonplussed, he chose what appealed to him.
“What’s this one about?” she asked as they paid the fee and walked into the foyer that sported a concession stand.
“It’s a Marvel comic.”
“What’s that?”
In line at the food counter, he recoiled a bit. “Didn’t you ever read comic books?”
“No, they weren’t popular where I come from.”
He kissed her nose. “I think you might be from Brigadoon.”
“Ah, that reference I know. The magical city appearing every hundred years.”
Their tur
n came up at the counter. “We’ll have a jumbo tub of popcorn and an extra-large coke to share.”
Alexandra gave a little gasp. “Aren’t you full from breakfast?”
“Yeah, but what’s a movie without popcorn?”
Once they were seated, while the screen was still dark, Ryder leaned in close. “Alexandra, don’t you have movies where you’re from?”
“My father was strict about cinema. We could only see films at home that had been previewed.”
“So you missed the debut of all the year’s films?”
“Not exactly. My father got them early.”
“Who on earth can do that?”
She shrugged.
“Didn’t you sneak out to see other ones?”
She fidgeted. “Sometimes my sisters did. Not me, though.”
“How come?”
“I was more docile.”
“Ha! After last night and this morning, you’ll never convince me.”
She giggled and dipped her hand into the popcorn bucket.
* * *
Ryder watched as Alexandra glided away from him at the rink. Man, she knew how to skate. Fast and steady, she circled the perimeter—once, twice, three times. She didn’t wave or call out, but concentrated on forward then backward movement. When she returned she asked, “What are you doing against that wall? I thought you were out there, too.”
“Watching you perform. You’re very skilled.”
She wasn’t even out of breath. “My father put in a rink on the grounds of our house. I could skate practically as soon as I could walk.”
“Your father must be something else.”
“He is.”
A brief glance away from her. “You won’t tell me now? After what happened between us.”
“About my background?”
“Yeah.”
Squeezing his arm, she shook her head. “I said it was out of bounds.”
“Even now?” he repeated.
“I’m afraid so. Do you mind?”