The Billionaire's Secret Obsession

by J. M. Madden

  Sarah furrowed her brows playfully, with a contrived look of confusion. “Do you need to talk to me after dinner?”

  A slight smile teased Clayton’s lips. “Yes, I need to talk to you after dinner. Much as we talked last night after dinner. I need to talk to you for a long time.”

  Laughing, Sarah turned and swayed down the hallway. “I’ll see if I have an opening in my schedule.”

  Clayton chuckled as she disappeared through the doorway to her room, her wiggling fingers the last thing he could see. What a little tease she was, joking with him, making him want to laugh and smile all the time. He closed the door behind him, then turned to lean against it.

  What in the hell had he gotten himself into?

  Last night, and even this morning, he thought with a smile, had been amazing. Sarah had been all he could ever hope for in a lover. More actually. She had surpassed every other woman he had ever been with ease. Which, honestly, wasn’t saying much, most of the women he had been with were social climbers taking every advantage they could. Instinctively he knew Sarah was not like that. They had spent the night making love, but she still retained an innocence to her that drew him in like a drug.

  One of the most shocking parts of the night had been they had settled down to sleep as if they had been married for years. That simple fact confused him. He was not comfortable touching other people, and he had never spent the entire night with a woman … not sleeping, anyway. But at one point during the night, he woke with Sarah curled in his arms, and the contentment that had spread through him was tremendous. It had totally taken him by surprise. It was also glaringly obvious that his long-thought out plan was not going to work. They had made love three times last night and this morning—a record for him—and he already wanted her again. He had a sinking sensation that as long as she was with him, he would not get enough.

  His hands clenched at his sides as he thought of how close she was, just down the hallway. If he went down there knocking, would she beckon him inside or turn him away? He hardened at the thought of her pulling him inside the room, and more. Looking at the clock on his dresser, he realized he didn’t really have the time for another rendezvous. But his heart was still pounding as he walked to his closet to find clothes for the day.

  Breakfast was torture. His mother and Andrea had not yet gotten up, so he was saved from that discomfort, but sitting next to Sarah as she smiled and gave him intimate looks was almost his undoing. Tory seemed especially talkative this morning and several times she had to catch his attention to repeat what she said. He finally had to apologize to her, telling her he was thinking about a couple problems at work. Sarah smiled serenely, and Clayton almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a bare foot creeping up his calf underneath his pant leg. What on earth was she doing? They were at the breakfast table!

  Tossing his napkin on his plate, he abruptly stood up, adjusting the suit jacket to cover the swell under the placket of his pants. How bad was it that her foot even turned him on? With a meaningful look, Clayton escaped out the door. He had to get away or he would give in and march her sassy, voluptuous butt up to the bedroom. Sarah’s laughing eyes were the last thing he saw as he left.

  Work was intolerable. At odd moments throughout the day, he would think about the previous night and he would feel himself hardening. His ability to focus was severely hampered by his own memories. Only by extreme force of will was he able to finish out the day. Unwilling to rush home to her arms and show her that weakness, Clayton made himself stay an extra hour just to prove that he could. Once in the limo for the long drive home, he finally let himself think about and analyze last night.

  Resignedly, he realized his original idea had not worked. Instead of getting her out of his system, she had become even more enmeshed in his life. Never before had his reasoning failed him so completely. But, he had never met a woman like Sarah Tyler before, either.

  And what was the next step? What did Sarah expect? With her strong Midwestern upbringing, he had a feeling he knew. But was he ready to go to the next level? Surprisingly, the thought was not as gut-tightening or unthinkable as it had always been … before Sarah.

  Chapter Twelve

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  Sarah forced herself not to look at her watch again. He was late. That was fine. They had no concrete plans to get together. Perhaps this was his way of letting her know he wanted to back off a little. They had certainly gone at it pretty hot and heavy last night. Maybe it was too much for him to process all at once. She’d certainly burned a lot of brain cells fretting about what had happened herself.

  But if it was too much for him, why did he let her spend the night, then make love to her again the next morning? Why didn’t he prod her to go back to her own room? And the way he talked made it sound like he had wanted to make love to her for a long time. Was it possible that he had wanted her for as long as she had wanted him? There were too many questions and not enough answers.

  Sarah finally sent Tory up to get ready for dinner. Inspiration had come easily today and Sarah was extremely pleased with the progress. At the rate she was going, she could probably be done within the next two weeks. The thought gladdened and saddened her. There was pride that she knew she was working on one of the best pieces she had ever done. And an overwhelming sadness that she could not prolong it for as long as possible. She could not imagine leaving Hillcroft House, and the people it sheltered. The staff was wonderful, and Tory had become very dear to her. And Clayton. Clayton was her heart. Many years ago, her mother had told her that when she found the man she was meant to be with, she would know it by the way he made her heart race and her tongue tie itself in knots. And she did. But how did Clayton feel? Sarah hoped she was reading him right, and he was as hooked on her as she thought but it was hard to tell.

  Climbing the richly carpeted stairs to her room, Sarah shook out her hair, finding a glob of paint on the right side of her head. Ugh! She knew she would have to take a shower, now. She did not even remember getting the paint in her hair. Glancing at her watch, she saw she had plenty of time. Dinner was not served in the kitchen until almost eight, after the family had eaten.

  The hot water pounding down on her shoulders was heaven, and Sarah did not feel guilty about indulging herself. She had worked hard today, and she had worried hard today. Was Clayton home yet?

  As if she had conjured him from her thoughts, Sarah felt a draft of chilly air and looked up as a naked Clayton let himself into the glass walk-in shower. She shivered at the feel of his intense gaze running down her body. Her whole body shivered in response. Glancing down, she saw he was already erect, and a smile stretched her lips. With that one look, all of her worries from the day disappeared. Everything would work out.

  “Is it time for our talk already, Mr. Gallagher?” she asked him saucily. “I’m afraid I’m not dressed appropriately.”

  Running her hands up her body, she cupped her breasts together, funneling shower water between them. Clayton stepped forward as close as he could get without touching her, and glowered down at her.

  “It is definitely time for our talk. Past time. I’ve wanted to talk to you all day.”

  Reaching up, she looped her arms around his neck. “Well, let’s talk then.”

  And they did.

  Without another word, Clayton’s mouth swooped down and began plundering hers. But was it actually plundering if she was a willing participant? Sarah could not seem to get enough of him, and her hands raced over his body, unable to get enough skin contact.

  Sarah was amazed at Clayton’s strength as he lifted her up in his arms and began working himself into her, with her back against the wall. There was no gentleness this time, only a merciless need that had chased them both through their separate days. Within seconds though, he was gliding easily. It was exactly what they both needed. All outside pressures were gone, and they were both working toward that ultimate explosion. They moved together as if they had been a couple for years, each somehow knowing exactly what
the other was feeling and needing at the time. Within minutes, Sarah was dancing in his arms, moaning, as her climax washed over her. Clayton soon followed, groaning harshly in her ear with his head resting against the porcelain tile. When Sarah opened her eyes, she realized that at some point, he had lowered down to his knees, with her still astride him. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t felt him sink down. Apparently her ability to hold onto a rational thought was totally wiped away when they were together like this.

  With his head resting on her shoulder, Clayton did not seem to have the strength to lift up his head. They were both panting and out of breath. Sarah pulled back and put one palm on each side of his face, giving him a big smacking kiss on the lips, with the water pounding down around them. His lids opened drowsily, and he smiled a contented smile.

  “I’m glad we had this discussion,” she told him, grinning.

  Nodding his head, he told her, “And I’m glad we reached a mutually beneficial agreement.”

  Laughing together, they got off the floor of the shower and rinsed away the sweat and other byproducts of their talk.

  When they stepped out of the shower, Clayton wrapped a towel around his waist and used another to dry off his chest. Sarah stepped up behind him and used the edge of her own towel to dry off his broad back. He smiled at her a little oddly before stepping out of the bathroom. She found him flipping through her sketchbook when she came into the bedroom, and felt a moment’s apprehension at the thought of him seeing himself on paper. Apparently, though, he missed the sketches, because he dropped the book on the end table and turned to the window. For some reason, Sarah thought he seemed at loose ends.

  “Are you okay?” she asked him, moving to the dresser to retrieve underwear. Pulling out a pale pink lace bra and matching panties, she gave herself one last drying swipe with the towel. The underwear set had been a treat for herself from one of the trendy boutiques in downtown Manhattan, and it was one of the few actual sets she had. Everything else was just miscellaneous pieces, mismatched and functional. She felt very feminine in the set, and judging from the heated glance Clayton sent her way, he did as well. But he turned back to the window frowning, and without comment.

  Sarah went to the closet and pawed through the wooden hangers, finally pulling out a decent peach colored collared shirt.

  “Are you going to dinner with your family?” she asked him finally, slipping the shirt over her head.

  Clayton heaved a great sigh and turned around. “I suppose I’d better.” Glancing at the clock, he crossed the room to the door, but he halted suddenly. “You know, I don’t think I will tonight.”

  Turning around, he gave her a mock bow. Sarah giggled at the picture he made, dripping water and clad only in a towel.

  “Ms. Tyler, would you do me the pleasure of accompanying me out to dinner this evening?”

  Sarah gasped and her hand covered her mouth. “Oh, yes,” she told him quickly. “I would love to go to dinner with you.”

  Clayton smiled at her broadly, white teeth glinting. “Wonderful. I will meet you downstairs in say, half an hour?”

  Sarah nodded her head and stepped forward to give him a light kiss, before quickly turning away to search through the closet for what to wear. Clayton smiled as he watched her slam hangers to the side, muttering to herself. How typically female and how delightful. Quietly, he let himself out of the room and headed to his own. Dinner out was a great idea, if he did say so himself. There would be no interruptions from his family, and he could center his attention on Sarah. The woman had absolutely blown his mind with her loving, and he wanted to pamper her a bit.

  Calling downstairs, he informed Faust of his plans and asked her to make reservations for two at a popular eatery—Belle Repas—on the waterfront. It was last minute, but he knew the Gallagher name would get him in. The food would be wonderful and the setting exceptionally romantic.

  Clayton actually worried over what to wear on a date with Sarah. Bypassing his regular dark suits, he pulled out a pale gray pinstripe, and a lilac colored tie. He had no idea when or where he had gotten the clothes. The tie was perhaps a gift from Tory, and the suit was a sample from his tailor. Looking in the mirror, he tried not to be self-conscious of the brighter colors, and stopped himself from tugging at the tie uncomfortably. Eventually he left everything as it was, somehow knowing that Sarah would like the color.

  After combing his hair and smoothing his beard, Clayton paced in front of the fireplace and tried not to look at his bed through the open bedroom door. Try as he might to forget, thoughts of Sarah coming apart in his arms tormented him. The tremulous shaking of her underneath him as her knees fell as far apart as they could in order to accommodate him. The feel of her stomach tightening as she levered her hips up into his. The strength of her desperate arms around him as he pushed her over the edge with his body. Clayton had known since a relatively young age what it was like to be with a woman, but he had never been with anyone like Sarah, never felt anything like being with her.

  Glancing at his watch, Clayton decided to go knock on Sarah’s door to see if she was ready. He was several minutes early, but he wanted to watch her finish dressing if he could.

  She answered the door almost immediately and Clayton wondered if she had been standing on the other side just waiting for him. He was amazed to see she was completely ready, from the top of her curled bangs to the tips of her black high-heeled sandals. She wore a very sedate black cocktail dress that hugged her lush curves and showcased her lovely breasts. Clayton was stunned by how beautiful she looked.

  “You look delectable,” he told her softly, leaning forward to kiss her brow.

  Sarah was doing her own assessment. It was obvious she liked what he wore because her face warmed into a beautiful smile. She ran her hand over the tie and he was glad he’d stepped out of his comfort zone a bit.

  “And you look scrumptious,” she whispered. “I may have to take a bite of you later.”

  Clayton almost herded them back into the bedroom then as a wave of heat rushed over him, but he controlled himself. The woman was breathtakingly bold with him and it sent him up in flames like a match to paper.

  Mitch was available to drive them, but Clayton retrieved the Lamborghini for their night out. The top was up, in consideration for her hair. Looking at it now, Clayton realized Sarah was one of those women who just naturally looked good, no matter how their hair was done. The blowing with the top down would probably only make her look sexily mussed.

  Sarah smiled as Clayton handed her gently into the low-slung seat, concentrating on keeping her feet from teetering over and her bits covered. Pulling the seat belt across her body, she watched as Clayton settled in beside her, securing his own belt precisely. It was a treat in itself to see Clayton handle the machine with his usual elegance of movement. Sarah wondered how it would feel to drive this magnificent piece of machinery as fast as she dared with the top down. Depending upon how things went, maybe she would ask Clayton to let her drive on the way home.

  Home.

  Hillcroft had grown on her. She had not expected the old mausoleum to, but it had, from its ostentatious sitting room to the gourmet kitchen. She would only need about two more weeks to complete Tory’s portrait, and that was working at a pretty comfortable pace. All aspects of the piece were falling together perfectly. It was July now, and Tory had said she was leaving the third week of August. Sarah would be sad to see her go. Tory, too, would be sad to go.

  Clayton obeyed the speed limit precisely, and within minutes they were pulling up to the valet parking at the waterfront restaurant. Clayton helped her out himself, waving the attendant aside.

  As soon as she was out, Sarah clasped his strong arm securely, and leaned into him. “I have to hang on to you so I don’t go sprawling on the floor,” she whispered.

  They shared a conspiratorial smile as the maître d rushed to escort them to their table on the outskirts of the room in a secluded alcove, with a spectacular view of the ocean.
A bottle of wine was brought out for Clayton’s approval, then several complimentary appetizers just appeared in front of them. Sarah made sure to sample one of everything brought to the table. When Clayton asked her what her choice was from the menu, Sarah told him to surprise her, leaving the choice in his hands. She loved seafood and she had a feeling he would order her something perfect. Clayton raised his eyebrows at this, but complied with a small smile. Sarah was not disappointed. The lobster tail had been baked to perfection, the vegetables crisp and bursting with freshness. The breadth of flavors made her taste buds sing and Clayton surprised her with his conversational depth. The man was extremely intelligent and seemed to know a lot about many different things. Sarah’s upbringing was so completely the opposite of his, it seemed endlessly fascinating to him, and Sarah wanted to invite him home to meet her family. She had a feeling the disparity between her parents and Clayton’s mother would shock him.

  The lack of tension compared to Hillcroft House was so refreshing, their interaction was almost giddy. Sarah finally had a chance to see Clayton somewhat relaxed outside of the house.

  Halfway through the meal, that changed. He stilled and his expression closed down. Sarah thought she had done or said something, but he only shook his head and finished his meal.

  They were just finishing up a wonderful key lime confection for dessert when Clayton’s eyes hardened as they drifted over her shoulder. It took an extreme effort of will not to turn to see what had caused the change, but Sarah waited patiently. She had a feeling she knew.

  “Clayton, what a lovely surprise! No, don’t get up, please.”

  The woman who spoke was strikingly beautiful, and Sarah clenched her hands in an unexpected quick flare of anger as she leaned over to kiss Clayton. Luckily, he turned his head a fraction of an inch at the last second and her over-red lips landed on his cheek. Sarah smiled at the glower he sent the woman.