When had that been?
“A month ago,” Cecily clarified, shaking her head at him. “Daddy is a workaholic, but you are worse.”
He studied her with fresh eyes, this socialite from a family so connected she could ease the way for a presidential run in multiple eastern states. Perfectly straight hair with clever highlights, big blue eyes and a stick-thin figure that wore clothes perfectly, she did nothing for him. She would make the ideal wife for a governing official. She would never say the wrong thing, she would never counsel him to be anything he wasn’t or question his intentions.
She would never make him feel as alive as Frankie did.
“Let’s dance,” Cecily insisted, tugging on his arm. “I’ve just been horsing in Montana. I have to tell you all about it. The skies were amazing.”
* * *
Frankie watched Harrison escort a beautiful, petite blonde onto the dance floor set among the twinkling fairy lights. It was like a dagger to her heart watching him emerge from his political networking only to immerse himself in the blonde. Which was nuts. They didn’t have anything according to Harrison. She was better off paying attention to one of the good-looking men chasing her who actually might send her roses. Who might not kick her out the morning after as if she was a piece of unwanted furniture.
She could not, however, contain her feminine curiosity. “Who is that?” she asked Coburn, posing the question with the casual air of someone who’d just spotted a nice-looking car and wondered what brand it was.
“Cecily Hargrove.” Coburn made a face. “I’m surprised it took her this long. She’s usually on him like paint.”
If Frankie’s mood could have sunk even lower, it did. The woman Harrison was supposed to marry, according to the oddsmakers. She was perfect.
Coburn’s eyes went a mischievous, vibrant blue. “Want to have some fun?”
She forced a smile to her lips. “I am having fun.”
“I mean some real fun.” He grabbed her hand and started walking toward the dance floor, a series of flagstones set under the trees. “Play along with me.”
Doing what?
Coburn took her in his arms on the dance floor, where the band was playing a Frank Sinatra classic. At least she didn’t feel so barefoot watching Harrison dance with Cecily when she was in the arms of handsome Coburn. He was a great dancer, better than Harrison, his smooth lead easy to follow. It would have been lovely, enjoyable if she didn’t have to watch Cecily smiling up at the man she was obviously crazy about.
She averted her eyes and focused on what Coburn was saying. Another song started. Everyone stayed on the dance floor. Coburn pulled her closer. She looked up at him, startled. “Relax,” he murmured. “I’m having some fun with my brother.”
The glitter in his eyes made her wince. He knew. She’d been sure he was smart enough to figure out what had happened between her and Harrison, but the verification was mortifying. Oh, lord.
She thought about denying it, then sighed. “He isn’t going to care. Forget it.”
“You don’t think so?” Coburn’s gaze was pure wickedness. “Give me five minutes.”
Frankie started to protest. Then defiance kicked in. Pride. When Coburn pulled her into a closer hold, his cheek against hers, she let him. His hand moved to the small of her back, his lips to her jaw. The couple beside them gave them an interested look.
“Coburn...”
“Wait.”
The band belted out the high notes of the sultry Ella Fitzgerald classic. A dark shadow fell over them. Coburn lifted his lips from her jaw as if pulled from a particularly delicious moment. “H?”
She turned her head. Harrison stood beside them, Cecily Hargrove in tow, a dark cloud on his face. “My turn, I think. We should switch.”
Coburn didn’t release her right away. The stare between the two brothers dragged on. Cecily bit her lip and stood there watching. “Only,” Coburn murmured finally, releasing her, “if you bring her right back.”
“Not bloody likely.”
Frankie’s head spun as Harrison took her hand and pulled her into his arms. Coburn did the same with a bewildered Cecily. Her new partner did not have the same smooth rhythm as her previous one. His steps were forced and jerky. Angry?
She looked up at him. “Harrison, what’s going on?”
“I could ask you that.” His voice was clipped, ruddy color striping his cheekbones. She stared at him, about to confess Coburn had been having some fun with him. The words died in her throat.
“I was simply dancing with Coburn.”
“He was kissing you.”
“Oh, not really,” she denied. “What does it matter anyway? You’ve made it clear we aren’t going to pursue what’s between us. I’m a free agent.”
“So you move from one brother to another? I thought you had better morals than that, Frankie.”
He was calling her Frankie. He was also jealous. Extremely jealous. The knowledge hit her like a ten-table arrival on a busy Masserias Saturday night.
The opportunity to make him admit his feelings was too tempting to resist.
“Maybe I’m taking your advice. After all, I was a big mistake. You said it yourself.”
A lethal glimmer stoked the heat in his eyes. “I was trying to be smart for the both of us.”
“Fine. Take me back to Coburn. Go dance with Cecily. It’s probably for the best.”
The heat in his gaze overflowed. She watched it unleash itself, swirl through the air like a wisp of smoke coming off a fire. His hand tightened around hers, just short of making her yelp as he turned and headed off the dance floor, dragging her behind him. She half ran to keep up, Coburn watching the whole thing with an amused, satisfied look on his face.
“What are you doing?” She dug her heels into the grass when they’d cleared the dance floor and pulled to a halt.
He gave her a hard look. “We are going to the boathouse to talk. The only place no one will be. You want to walk or do I carry you?”
Her heart tripped over itself. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be alone with him like this. And he would not do that. Not in the middle of all these people. She drank in his stormy demeanor. The deadly intent raging in his ebony eyes. Then again, maybe he would.
He started walking. She followed, conscious of more than a few curious looks following them. “You’re making a scene.”
“Does it look like I care?”
Uh-oh. Her heartbeat sped up into an insistent staccato as he skirted the house and took a pathway through the forest down to the water. The farther they got from the crowds milling around the property in loose-knit groups, the worse her trepidation became. Finally, they reached the boathouse, which looked more like a full-fledged house to her with its clapboard walls and big windows. An outside lamp at the front sent a swath of light spilling across the water.
“Harrison—”
He pulled to a stop on the dock and let go of her hand. “You are not interested in him. You told me that.”
“No, I’m not,” she fired back, trying not to be intimidated by his aggressive stance, feet spread apart. “But I thought it might be nice to have a little honesty between us. You are jealous, Harrison. You are feeling things for me you won’t admit, not even to yourself.”
His eyes flashed. “Oh, I’ve admitted them to myself. I’m way past that.”
She blinked. Swallowed hard as he took the two steps between them and glared down at her with the full force of his fury. “You want honesty, Frankie? Yes, I hate the look of you with Coburn because I know you don’t want him. You want me. And he is a predator.”
“He is not. He was just having some fun with you.”
His jaw hardened until his face took on the consistency of granite. “You think that’s a good idea?”
She shook her head. “No, I—” She put her palms to her temples. “It wasn’t.”
“You don’t want me, Frankie.” He kept going as if he hadn’t heard her. “Tell yourself that. You want a tidy li
ttle relationship with a nice guy who will treat you well, give you the requisite two-point-one kids and take you to church on Sunday.” He shook his head. “That’s not me.”
“I never said that.” A funny feeling unfurled inside of her. “Why don’t you tell me what these feelings are you’re having before I make a decision like that?”
He shook his head, a wary look in his eyes. “It won’t accomplish anything. I have nothing to offer you.”
Frustration burned through her. “I swear I will turn around, go back up there and find one of those eligible men and flirt like crazy if you don’t start talking.”
His throat convulsed. For a minute she thought he was going to walk away. Then he took the last step toward her, his gaze dark and tormented. “You make me want things I can’t have.”
“Like what?” She was hypnotized by the confusion in his gaze. The honesty.
He cupped her jaw in his hands. “You make me want you. Need you. Crave to be with you. I don’t do relationships. That’s why I walked away. Not because I don’t have feelings for you.”
Having his hands on her again felt so good. She wanted to purr into him like a cat. Her gaze held on to his. “Maybe you don’t know what you’re capable of.”
“Even if I was,” he said harshly, “you are goodness, Frankie. I am the darkness. I would only drag you down there with me.”
She moved closer because she was melting inside. “I can handle myself quite nicely, Harrison. I did the other night.”
He looked down, as if he was studying the heat drawing them together. “You can’t handle my life as it is. With Leonid. Siberius. I could be walking into a whole other playground in a few weeks, one I’m sure you couldn’t handle.”
A presidential campaign. Rumors had been swirling all night about it. Everyone expected him to do it. But she didn’t care about that. She cared about the man.
She swallowed hard. “That night at your penthouse...I’ve never felt like that about anyone. I’ve never had that kind of a connection with anyone. It was—” She shook her head, stumbling over the words. “My feelings are scaring the heck out of me, too, Harrison. I don’t know how to handle them. But I won’t deny them.” Her gaze clung to his. “You said I make you feel alive...you make me feel alive.”
His gaze darkened. He was silent for a long moment, long enough for her to hear her heart beating in her ears. “You’d be smart to walk away. If I don’t break your heart now, I will later.”
“You don’t know that.” She stepped closer until the heat of their bodies melded into one another. “There are no sure things in life. You can’t insulate yourself against pain. It’s impossible.”
She thought she might see a flicker of awareness in his eyes. That she was right. That he’d been locking his feelings away for far too long. Her heart thrummed in her chest as he brought his mouth down to brush against the corner of hers. “There are far better bets than to take a chance on me. I’m not going to lie.”
“I don’t think so.” Her soul reached out for his. “Let yourself go. Follow your instincts. I’ll jump if you will.”
He murmured something unintelligible against her mouth. Sparks flew between them, their bodies too close, too aware of their wanting not to seize it. Take it. His mouth shifted to cover hers more fully. She moved into him, like water finding a path again. After the uncertainty of this past week, she wanted comfort. She wanted to know she was right.
He kissed her hard, his mouth hungry, lacking in finesse. She had pushed him out of his comfort zone. His hands moved restlessly down to shape her breasts, the curve of her thighs through the silky material of her dress. “You look so good in this,” he muttered when they came up for air. “I almost knocked Coburn senseless.”
She smiled against his mouth. “He was provoking a reaction.”
“He succeeded.” The hand that shaped her hips pulled her hard against him. His arousal lay between them, potent and ready. Frankie gasped. “Harrison.”
He grabbed her hand and walked toward the boathouse. She tugged on his fingers in a halfhearted protest. “Not here.”
“You wanted me to go with my instincts. Live with it.” He pulled open the door and tugged her through it. The interior of the boathouse was dimly lit, wooden seating surrounding the empty slip where the water slapped against the boards.
“Isn’t everyone supposed to be down here soon for the fireworks?”
He backed her up against the wall, his gaze dark and dangerous. “We have a good twenty, twenty-five minutes. More than enough time.”
Fire raged in her belly, a forbidden, excited pull tugging at her insides. Really? He was really going to do this?
“People saw us leave.” She attempted a last-ditch effort at sanity.
He pushed the straps of her dress off her shoulder and put his mouth to the rounded curve. “This would not be the biggest scandal in history. Trust me.”
That didn’t actually convince her, but his hands peeling her dress to her waist distracted her enough that she forgot all about it. She was braless beneath it, the style making undergarments impossible. His rough rumble of approval reverberated through her head. He cupped both breasts in his big hands, bending his head to capture one in his mouth. His lips and tongue played with the hard peak until it was distended and throbbing. Until she was aching inside. Then he switched his attention to the other.
His palms made a foray under her dress and pushed it up her thighs. Her silk panties were a mere wisp of fabric under his heated gaze. He left them on and dropped to his knees. His rough command to hold her dress up was all that proceeded the hot possession of his mouth on her.
Oh, dear God.
Frankie leaned back against the wall, hands clutching her dress, eyes closing at the long, lush strokes of his tongue. Her fingertips dug into the wood on either side of her. His strokes moved deeper, came harder. The only sounds in the boathouse were her breath coming in quick pants now and the water slapping against the wood.
“Harrison.”
He nudged her legs farther apart with his elbows. His big hands held her thighs wide as he took her apart with deep, urgent strokes. With a tunnel-visioned focus on the throbbing center of her that shattered her completely. Her moan as she came was so loud in the echoing space, it froze her in place.
What if someone had heard?
Harrison rose. His expression was beyond caring, beyond anything except his end goal. He picked her up, braced her back against the wall and released himself, his strength, the bulging muscles of his biceps as held her in place, a massive turn-on. He moved the fabric of her panties aside and notched his erection into her hot, aching flesh. A low groan tore from his throat. “Please tell me you’re protected.” She nodded, not sure she would have stopped him even if she hadn’t been. She was that far gone.
He buried his face in her neck. Took her with a forceful thrust that stole her breath. She pressed her head against the wall. “God—that’s...”
He withdrew and thrust into her again. And again. She dug her nails into his biceps and held on. She wanted everything he had to give her, every piece of the wildness, because it gave her hope he could let go. That he would give in to the magic that was them.
Strain wrote its way across his face as he increased the pace, chasing his pleasure. Frankie brought his mouth down to hers. “Now.”
He took more of her weight in his hands, ground his hips against her until his movement set her flesh on fire. She writhed against him, helped him reach the spot she needed. He didn’t stop until she groaned in his mouth and sensation ripped her apart again. Then he tightened his hands around her hips and found his release. Hot, hard and uncontrollable, his orgasm sent a flood of warmth through her. It was the most complete she’d ever felt in her life.
It was long seconds later, minutes maybe, before either of them moved. Harrison let her feet slide to the floor, his face buried in her neck. A thin layer of perspiration blanketed his brow. Her heart struggled to find its normal
rhythm.
Voices outside ripped them out of their stupor. Her heart crashed against her chest. Oh, my God.
Harrison recovered before she did, pushing her dress down over her hips and sliding the straps over her shoulders. “Fix your hair,” he muttered, reaching down to make himself decent. She moved her hands up to smooth it but so many curls had escaped, there was no way she was getting it back the way it had been.
The voices got louder. They were directly outside. She threw Harrison a panicked glance. “I can’t fix it.”
He ran the back of his hand over his brow. “Forget about it. It looks windswept.”
He straightened his jacket and reached for her hand. “The side door. We can slip into the crowd.”
They exited the door, emerging into the cool night air to find most of the party had moved down to the shore for the fireworks. Any hope she had of stealthily merging into it was crushed by the appearance of Evelyn Grant, a frown on her face, Coburn directly behind her. Coburn’s eyes went to her hair, which was always perfectly in place. Widened. Then it traveled to Harrison who looked utterly cool and collected. Coburn’s gaze dropped lower. Frankie’s followed. Oh, dear lord, no. Harrison had a dirt smudge on the knees of his trousers. Both knees.
Coburn turned away. Frankie saw his shoulders shaking. Evelyn Grant waved a finger at her son. “Honestly, Harrison. The only thing I asked you to do was round up people for the fireworks.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Frankie hadn’t seen the view. Apologies, forgot all about the time.”
Evelyn’s mouth pursed. “Can you at least ask them to start?”
Harrison kept her by his side as he walked over and gave the instructions to the crew. He tucked her in front of him, arms around her, as the fireworks exploded across the sky, crackling into a starburst of red, blue and white, the brilliant stars falling down around them. She leaned back in his arms. The dazzling display felt like a stunning new beginning of something. Harrison lowered his mouth to her ear. “We made better ones.”
The display went on for almost twenty minutes. The Grants had spared no expenses tonight in this marquee party of the year that celebrated the end of summer. She glanced around at the crowd. Looked directly into a pair of big blue eyes on their left that looked utterly shattered. Cecily.
Tempted by Her Billionaire Boss (The Tenacious Tycoons) Page 14