Lifestyles of the Witch & Famous

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Lifestyles of the Witch & Famous Page 4

by Riser, Mimi


  “Yeah, I’ve noticed. You’re going over with your usual lead-balloon charm, my man.” He turned his grin to Molly. “Pleased to meet you, Ms. Leigh. I’m Barry Baker. We’ve, ah, spoken on the phone several times.”

  “Yes, I remember. I’m prepared to forgive you for that, too.” The phone calls had all been strikeouts, but Barry had fielded them as nicely as he could. Molly returned his grin.

  Tyler’s glare darkened. He shot a warning glance at Barry, then leveled his deep blue high-beams on her. A fresh jolt of electricity crackled through her as their gazes locked. She saw anger in his eyes, and…something else. Hurt?

  Hunger.

  Oh, Goddess…

  He held out his hand to her. A very nice hand, Molly noticed. Long fingered and sensitive, but strong. Probably very talented. What would it feel like on…

  She swallowed, hard, and booted the thought from her mind.

  “Ms. Leigh?” Tyler didn’t tap his foot with impatience, but he might as well have. He looked as though he wanted to tap her – with a club maybe. “Our talk?”

  “What about it?” Molly rasped out the words, her focus frayed. The intensity in his eyes pulled at her like magnets. It took all her strength to resist. And she wasn’t even sure what, exactly, she was resisting.

  “You have been demanding a private appointment with me, haven’t you?”

  Had she? Oh. Right. Of course she had. Why did that suddenly seem such a not-so-good idea?

  She nodded, trying to rake her wits back together. “Yes, but—”

  “Well, I’m giving you one. Are you coming with me or not?”

  He would use words like coming, wouldn’t he? Probably did it on purpose, too. Oh yeah, he knew just what he was doing.

  And I don’t.

  Molly floundered for an answer. The question really wasn’t that difficult. She had wanted to confront the lion in his den. She’d been planning on giving him a very large piece of her mind – and had hoped he’d choke on it.

  Only now she was tempted to offer him a piece of something else, which wasn’t like her at all. A “private appointment” had lost its appeal. Or, rather, it had gained too much appeal. A different appeal. Dangerous. Before, she hadn’t trusted him. Now she didn’t trust herself.

  Besides, the twins were still plastered against her like wallpaper!

  She cleared her throat, willing her voice to sound normal. “I’m sorry, but I can’t leave the boys right now. They’re keyed up from the flight and…um, nervous about all this. They need me near.”

  Tyler’s mouth pressed into a hard line at mention of the kids. He’d shown no signs of trying to talk to them since they’d rebuffed him. Molly suspected he was afraid to. None of the boys would even look at him.

  Unwanted but inescapable, a new twinge of sympathy stung her. True, this was all his fault. He’d brought on their reaction by his own callous behavior, by the dictatorial way he’d brought them here. The man was obviously a tyrant.

  But even tyrants must have feelings. This situation was as difficult for him as it was for the rest of them. That was obvious, too.

  If only she could decide what to do about it…

  They did need to talk. She couldn’t put off the coming confrontation forever. Even after it, even if she was successful, there’d still be details to discuss. She hadn’t figured on just waltzing in and out with the kids. She’d probably be stuck here for at least another day, maybe several.

  Molly heaved an inner sigh. “Um, why don’t we set aside tonight for our meeting? After the boys have calmed down. We can do it after I put them to bed.”

  Tyler’s mouth relaxed into a small grin, rather devilish. Definitely disconcerting. That counter-offer hadn’t come out sounding quite the way Molly had intended.

  “Doing it with you tonight sounds very enticing, Ms. Leigh. I’m sure we can manage something along those lines. However, I want to get certain…preliminaries settled between us this afternoon. As in now.”

  Of all the…

  Her jaw dropped open, then snapped shut. The man did realize there were children present, didn’t he? Jeremy and Josh were too young to understand his implication, but Stevie was old for his years and a little too good at spotting innuendos.

  She glanced at the boy to see him scowling at Tyler, his small hands balled into fists at his sides. Stevie was rather territorial about his family, and about her in particular. Molly knew he’d outgrow it eventually, but in the meantime it made any inclination she might have toward playing the dating game more hassle than it was worth.

  Not that she did have any inclination in that direction. And especially not with someone like the arrogant ass in front of her – and she didn’t care how attractive he was. Well…maybe she did, but she was trying extremely hard not to.

  Groan.

  Before she could think of a cutting response, Barry stepped into the fray.

  “I’ll be happy to watch the boys for you.”

  Thanks a heap, Mr. Baker.

  Tyler shot him a look. “You wouldn’t watch them when I asked you.”

  “Of course not.” Barry grinned. “I do plenty for you already.” His gaze shifted to Molly, and he dipped a cavalier bow. “For Ms. Leigh, however, I am more than willing to go above and beyond the call of duty.”

  Please don’t do me any favors, her narrowed gaze told him.

  “Thanks,” she said aloud, “but they’re really not used to strangers, and—”

  “He’s very strange,” Tyler interjected.

  “Only from spending too much time with you, Oh-Difficult-One,” Barry replied blithely. He gave the boys a big smile – but a genuine smile. Kids could always recognize the real thing. “Hey, guys, I was just about to send down to the kitchen for an ice-cream sundae. Anyone wanna join me?”

  An enthusiastic chorus of “Yeah!” answered, and the twins abandoned Molly to run to him.

  Marvy. He’d found the magic words. Her brood was as chronically hungry as any healthy, growing boys ever were. They’d stick to him like super glue if they thought he’d feed them.

  Molly gave up. They obviously weren’t going to let her delay this, and it was probably just as well she get it over. Surely she could control her hormones for however long it took to convince Tyler to let her retain custody of the kids.

  “Okay.” She turned to Barry and the boys, who were giving their ice-cream orders to Hanson to deliver to the kitchen. No doubt the food would arrive back here in gold dishes on a jewel-encrusted tray. “Just make sure those sundaes are small ones,” she warned. “Too much sugar and they’ll be wired all night. I’ll never get them to sleep.”

  “No problem,” Barry said. “The ice-cream here is actually homemade frozen yogurt with only natural fruit for flavoring and a little raw honey.” He winked. “Ty’s a physical fitness nut.”

  “Really?” Her brows rose as she looked at Tyler. Whoever would have guessed they had anything in common?

  “I’m not a ‘nut’ about it,” he replied. “But, yes, I do try to take care of my body.”

  A sudden gleam in his eye seemed to say, I bet I could take real good care of your body, too.

  Molly’s mouth went dry. In the second of tension that followed, her voice rang out like a bell.

  “Kiss-kiss! C’mon, pretty boy, give me a kiss.”

  “Amazing.” Tyler looked ever so ready to oblige. “Are you a ventriloquist? I never even saw your lips move.”

  And, at the moment, he was staring at them quite intently.

  Where was a hole to crawl into when she needed one?

  “It was Admiral Byrd,” Molly choked out. “The Myna – one of his tricks. I say ‘kiss-kiss,’ then put a bit of food between my lips, and he’ll take it out with his beak.”

  “Sounds like fun.” Slowly, Tyler leaned toward her. His breath blew out warm and minty with his words. Why had she never noticed before what a sexy aroma mint was? “I have some sunflower seeds in my office, if you’d care to demonstrate, Ms. L
eigh.”

  Oh boy, would she.

  No. Molly jerked back as she realized she’d been drifting forward to meet him, her mouth parted in readiness, her breasts almost grazing his chest. And right in front of the kids! She was really losing it.

  Pulling in a deep breath to steady herself, she glanced over her shoulder at the three boys. They were busy putting Fluffy the Wonder Dog through his repertoire of tricks (all two of them) for Barry Baker, and hadn’t noticed her and Tyler.

  Thank Goddess.

  They all seemed fine without her, and Barry seemed to have everything under control. He obviously had a way with kids. Relieved, Molly turned back to Tyler, only to see him striding for the far door he’d entered from.

  Huh?

  He’d refused to delay their meeting, demanded she accompany him now, yet he was leaving without her? What was his problem? From the way he walked – more of a stalk actually – he looked angry about something. Angry with her?

  Yeah, well, she expected him to be angry before their impending confrontation was over. But she hadn’t even started to read him the riot act yet.

  Molly hesitated a moment, staring after him, studying the rigid line of his back, the grim set to his shoulders as he exited the pool area. She read him like a billboard.

  He wasn’t angry. He was hurt.

  Damn.

  She glanced again at the boys hanging around Barry like he was Father Goose, like he was their long-lost relative or something. Tyler was the real long-lost relative, and her trio had spurned him flat-out. He might have expected them to be clinging to her, but it must have been a rough blow to see them take so instantly to someone as much a stranger to them as himself.

  Oh, hell…

  Knowing she was probably making a big mistake, Molly hurried after him.

  The door Tyler had left by opened into something that looked like a grand ballroom, fully outfitted with an orchestra balcony at one end, a sweeping staircase at the other, and crystal chandeliers the size of Australia. Simply by crossing a threshold, she’d gone from “Strangers In Paradise” to “Shall We Dance.”

  Except there was no music playing, no couples in courtly dress waltzing over the parquet floor. Just the hollow echo of Tyler’s footsteps as his stride ate up the length of the room. A big, extravagant emptiness with nothing to fill it but a lone and lonely looking man.

  “Mr. James?” Molly ran to catch up.

  He stopped at the foot of the stairs and turned to meet her – slowly – resting one hand on the end of the banister and sliding the other into his pants’ pocket. A casual, unconcerned pose.

  And Molly wasn’t fooled for a minute. She looked up into eyes that stabbed her like a knife, sharp pain in their depths. Poor little rich boy. He had so much, and it meant so little. What good was all the wealth in the world if you had no one to share it with?

  The man had at least half a dozen failed marriages to his dubious credit. He’d been estranged for years from his only sibling, and had no family now but his nephews – who wouldn’t even shake his hand. Their reaction to him would probably help Molly’s own case when she asked for custody of them, but she didn’t want victory that way.

  “You’re too tender-hearted,” Steve used to say – a joke since Steve’s own heart was a big fluffy marshmallow. “I believe if you could, Molly, you’d wrap the whole world in a baby blanket and try to kiss away all its woes.”

  But she couldn’t, of course. All she could do right then was stretch up on her toes, anchor his face between her hands, and kiss Tyler James.

  -------

  Wham!

  Tyler’s breath hitched as the sweetest mouth he’d ever tasted connected with his. He’d never even seen the kiss coming. Now that it was here, he stood frozen under its force, hanging on to the banister with a white-knuckled grip, afraid that if he moved he’d be playing Rhett Butler in Gone With the Wind and hauling Scarlett up the stairs to bed.

  What had he wanted to talk to her about?

  Oh, yeah…marriage.

  But he’d already rethought that idea in the seconds it took to cross the ballroom. Barry was right, as always; marriage was no doubt a dumb move. With the mood Tyler had been in, everything had seemed dumb. His mood had changed quickly though, and dumb was starting to look pretty smart again.

  Molly’s lips glided over his like hot honey. Her breasts pressed against his chest. Why? Did she have any idea how close she was to being ravished? Hell, she was the one kissing him. Maybe she wanted to be ravished. Maybe he should drag her down beneath him right here and—

  With a small gasp, she broke the contact and stepped back, her face flushed, her blue-green eyes clouded with confusion. “I…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

  She what?

  Shit.

  Tyler was only sorry she regretted it. Still clutching the banister, he fisted his other hand inside his pocket, hoping the bulge it made would disguise the larger bulge near it. His voice came out harsher than he intended. “So why did you do it?”

  “For comfort. You looked like you needed some. I wanted to help, that’s all.” Her eyes lowered with the words.

  His widened. A mercy kiss? Women usually kissed him in a passion of greed, because they wanted his money. The lustier ones were happy to have his body along with it. The icing on the cake. Sometimes, for brief periods – very brief – they even claimed to love him. But no one had ever kissed him out of pity before. The concept was as titillating as a bucket of ice water down the front of his pants. His pocket ripped at the corner as he yanked his fist out of it and let go of the banister, leaning against it instead, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “I see. And am I supposed to thank you for your help?”

  She flinched at his tone and glanced up, then quickly looked down again, unwilling or simply unable to meet his gaze. A small woman, delicate, almost a foot shorter than his six-foot-four frame. An embarrassed woman.

  Tyler began to feel a bit like a bastard.

  “No. Because I haven’t helped anything.” She said that last more to herself than him. Her shoulders rose and fell with a sigh.

  Bare shoulders, smooth and pale as cream. He’d bet his fortune they’d feel like sun-warmed silk under his hands. He was worse than a bastard. He was a fool. A billion-dollar business he’d built by grabbing opportunities as they appeared, and here he stood letting a beautiful one slip away. He’d better fix that.

  “Look, Mr. James, I said I was sorry. You obviously want to be alone right now, so I’ll leave you to it.” Her skirt swirling about her hips with the pivot, she turned to go.

  Tyler reached out and won his bet. She did feel like warm silk. Better. She felt like heaven. Savoring the softness of her skin, he ran his hands down her arms and turned her about to face him. She froze like a deer caught in headlights, giving him the second he needed to shift his grip to her waist, lift, and set her feet on the bottom step, bringing her head more on level with his.

  His arms slid around her, drawing her flush against him. “Now you’re the one who looks like she needs some comfort.”

  Molly gave a strangled gasp and flattened her hands on his chest, trying to push away – though not with much conviction, Tyler noticed.

  “Mr. James, I—”

  His hold tightened, cutting off the protest. “Please. Can we lose the ‘Mister’? My name is Tyler.” He pulled her closer, till he could feel her heart hammering into his, feel her breath on his face. “I want to hear you say it.”

  “Tyler…”

  The two syllables sounded husky and hoarse, and sexy as sin to his ears. His eyes drifted shut as he grazed his lips over hers like the passing flutter of moth wings.

  Just a beginning…

  A low moan escaped her. She fisted her hands in his shirt as though she didn’t trust what she might do with them otherwise. Her body pressed into his even as she struggled for control.

  Screw control.

  “Tyler, I…I don’t think—”


  “Good. Then don’t think. Just kiss.”

  His mouth claimed hers.

  Chapter 4

  Just kiss?

  There was no “just” about it. The man’s lips ought to be licensed as lethal weapons. And his lips were only the first assault.

  Molly knees nearly buckled when his tongue teased her mouth open to a hot, hungry probing. She grabbed at his shoulders for support and felt the muscles in them tense as his hands raked down her back to her hips, pulling her tight into him, grinding their pelvises together.

  Someone groaned. Her, echoed by Tyler, and she felt another part of him tense. Suddenly a steel rod dug lengthwise into her abdomen. A big rod. Her body responded with an electric shiver and wet warmth between her thighs.

  No!

  This was too fast, too much, and way too soon. They were both acting nuts. Molly did a mental scramble, searching for a shred of sanity in herself, and twisted her face to the side, dragging her mouth off his. Tyler simply continued the kissing over her jaw line and down her throat, nipping and nuzzling, turning the protest on her lips into another groan. She grappled to hang onto her wits and find her voice.

  “Wh-what happened to that meeting we’re supposed to be having?” she strained out.

  “Don’t look now, but I think we’re having it,” he murmured against her neck, then punctuated the statement by running the tip of his tongue up to her ear and sucking on her lobe.

  Raw heat spiraled down her spine and into her groin. Molly gasped. She seemed to be doing a lot of that, didn’t she?

  “Tyler…we’ve just met…we hardly know each other…”

  “Can you think of a better way to get acquainted?”

  Her answer caught in her throat as cool air touched the backs of her knees. Then her thighs. Then…

  Oh, no.

  Molly favored loose clothing. Pajama-style pants, long skirts like this one. Underwear, she hated. Too constricting. It chafed, it bound. Consequently, she avoided it whenever possible.

  She groaned when Tyler discovered she wasn’t wearing any now. A dangerous mistake, like pouring alcohol on flames, his bare hands on her bare bottom. Deep shudders racked through her as he manually explored the area.

 

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