Pirate's Gold

by Lisa Jackson

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “But it’s true,” she pointed out, her cheeks coloring with unwanted anger. “Are you just stringing me along, Kyle?”

  “Why can’t you trust me?” he asked, his temper flaring in his cold eyes.

  “Because trust is a two-way street, and I’m smart enough to notice when someone’s deliberately baiting me.”

  “You’ve got it all wrong.”

  “Prove it, Kyle.” Maren picked up the contract and waved it angrily in his face. “If I’m wrong, sign the contract.” Her voice was shaking, and her eyes had darkened warningly.

  ‘I don’t have to prove anything to you, Maren,” Kyle defended himself. His voice was low and menacing. “You know me well enough to realize that I’m as good as my word.”

  “Are you saying that I’m not?” she asked, wondering at all the hidden innuendos in his words.

  “No, but I’m asking you this much: If you were having any serious problems at Festival, you would tell me, wouldn’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Even if it threatened the sale?” he pressed.

  “Kyle, what are you getting at? If there’s something bothering you about my business, just spit it out.”

  “It’s a purely hypothetical question,” he lied, thinking of the Mitzi Danner video. He wasn’t convinced that it had really been duplicated, but Ryan Woods had promised to bring it to him. Until he had his facts straight, he couldn’t accuse her.

  “Then you had better think about signing the Righteous contract. Joey is counting on both of us. I told him that I would talk to you, and if you agreed, we’d schedule his video into production.”

  “And if I said no?” Kyle asked, muscles rigid.

  “I can’t imagine why you would. But I told Joey that if I had problems getting the contract signed, I would call him and he could deal directly with you,” Maren explained.

  “Now that’s a threat. I’ve been on the receiving end of Joey’s hostility more than once.”

  “The choice is yours,” Maren pointed out.

  “Either I sign, or you sic Joey on me?”

  “It’s your decision.”

  Kyle smiled cynically. “I can handle Joey Righteous—I have before.”

  “Why do you insist on being so insufferably stubborn?” she asked in utter confusion. “Is this the kind of response I can expect from you if and when I sell the business to Sterling Records?” Her indigo eyes reflected her concern.

  “I’m just being cautious right now,” he reassured her. “We’ve had a few problems here, and I’ve got to get a handle on them before I take on any more.” He took the contract from her hands and flipped it in the air. It fluttered downward to land in the middle of his chaotic desk. “It’s after five,” he noted, capturing her wrist with his hand. “Let’s forget about business for the rest of the night.”

  Pulling her wrist gently forward, he enticed her to lean against him. “I can think of other things I’d rather concentrate on,” he coaxed against her skin. His lips brushed lightly over hers, awakening her senses with their dewy promise. “Do you have any plans for tonight?” he asked, warm fingers lightly caressing her throat.

  “I do now,” she sighed, forgetting about Joey Righteous, unsigned contracts and Festival Productions, and letting her fingers run through his thick sable-colored hair.

  He smiled cryptically, and his gray eyes sparkled. “Let’s go upstairs,” he suggested.

  “Upstairs?”

  “I have a place up there, a studio apartment of sorts, where I stay when I’m in town.”

  Maren tilted her head, lifted an eyebrow and viewed him through a thick fringe of dark lashes. “Are you attempting to seduce me, Mr. Sterling?” she teased.

  “More than that,” he promised with a rich laugh. “Oh, lady, what I intend to do to you.” His smile was infectiously wicked as he swung his coat over his shoulder, picked up her briefcase in one hand and pulled on her wrist.

  The apartment was located on the uppermost floor of the building. It was warmly decorated in tones of burgundy, navy and ecru with modern furniture clustered in small groupings near the windows overlooking the city.

  “You call this a bachelor apartment?” Maren asked dubiously. It was true that all the living was concentrated in one large room, but it hardly qualified as the cramped quarters usually associated with a bachelor’s apartment.

  “I used the term loosely,” he conceded.

  “I guess. I think you could house three families in here.”

  He had released her hand, set down her briefcase and tossed his coat over the back of a plush chair. When he turned back to face her, his eyes drove deeply into hers, and she experienced a chill of excitement racing through her blood.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked, taking both of her hands in his.

  “Starved…”

  “I ordered out…something very sophisticated and romantic,” he whispered huskily.

  A small smile, showing just the hint of a dimple and the flash of even white teeth spread across her pouty lips. “So you expected to entice me up here,” she surmised.

  “Hoped,” he corrected. “I hoped to show you where I live when I’m in L.A.” He crossed the room, walking past a heavy sectional sofa in muted shades of blue and gray. “Come here…”

  She followed him to the tall windows on the far wall. From the apartment’s vantage point high above the surrounding buildings, one had a panoramic view of the surrounding community of Hollywood. “I bet this is breathtaking at night,” Maren commented, watching the flow of heavy traffic moving toward the freeways.

  “If you stay long enough, you can see for yourself.” He disappeared into an alcove, which Maren decided was the kitchen. Within a few minutes, he reentered the room and placed a large carton on the table.

  “Pizza?” she asked, as he opened the box.

  “Warm pizza and cold beer,” he stated.

  “This is your idea of ‘something very sophisticated and romantic’?” she inquired, laughter dancing in her soft blue eyes. “Why was I expecting Veal Oscar and chilled champagne?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied, motioning for her to take a seat at the small table, “because I wasn’t talking about the meal; I was referring to the company.”

  Maren’s gaze locked with Kyle’s, and she smiled under the warmth of his compliment. “If you’re trying to charm me into signing the sales contract,” she said, “you’re certainly on the right track.’

  “This has nothing to do with your business or mine. This evening is just between you and me.” He poured a glass of beer and handed it to her. “Is that all right with you?”

  “Fine,” she admitted, taking a sip of the cold liquid. “Just fine.”

  It was dusk when they had finished eating and had cleared the small table. The conversation had been light and carefree, and Maren had relaxed enough to kick off her shoes and feel the weave of the thick carpet through her hose.

  Kyle opened one of the windows, and the sounds of the city reached upward to them. Muted voices, the rumble of car engines and an occasional shout or blast of music from a passing car filtered into the apartment.

  Maren sat on the floor near the windows staring out at the looming night. She drew her bent legs to her chest, encircled her knees with her arms and rested her chin on her kneecaps.” Do you enjoy living here?” she asked, as he sat next to her. “It’s so different from the house in La Jolla.”

  He contemplated the curve of her jaw before replying. “It’s been convenient.” He reached forward and traced the soft column of her neck with his finger. The touch of his fingers against her throat made Maren’s pulse begin to race. When she turned her head to look at him, she noticed that all traces of amusement had faded from his eyes. His voice became a throaty whisper, desperate with the heated yearnings of his body. “God, woman, you can’t imagine what I’ve gone through these last two weeks, wanting you and not being able to touch you. It’s nearly d
riven me mad.”

  All the lighthearted pretenses melted in the ever-lengthening shadows in the room. The light mood that had taken hold of Maren throughout the casual meal disappeared and was replaced by an aura of gravity. Kyle’s eyes had darkened with restrained desire as he reached over and his forearms entrapped her in their intimate prison.

  “Tell me you’ve wanted me,” he commanded, holding her gaze with his smoldering eyes. “Tell me you’ve lain in bed alone and wished that I were there beside you, that I would appear and satisfy the ache within you.”

  His words enticed her heart to beat unsteadily. Her breath caught in her throat as she remembered the last lonely nights without him and the agonizing hours she had lain awake with only memories of his warm caress. “Oh, yes,” she sighed, squeezing her eyes shut to emphasize her words. “I’ve wanted you, Kyle…. I’ve wanted you so hopelessly that there were times when I thought I couldn’t stand being away from you a moment longer.”

  Groaning in satisfaction, he let his hands move upward to cup her chin. “You’ve got to be the most fascinating woman in the world,” he proclaimed softly before pressing his anxious lips to hers. Tenderly, with as much restraint as his eager body could stand, he kissed her, and with an answering sigh, she parted her lips, quietly inviting him to explore and invade her, body and soul.

  Their tongues met and entwined in an intimate dance of restless union that forced her blood to run in swirling rivulets of liquid fire. Her fingers caught in the heavy strands of his coarse hair as she pressed him closer to her. She felt his hand on her breast, kneading the aching mound through the soft fabric of the jersey dress. Her nipples were tight, her breasts swollen with need, ready for him and the wondrous feelings he could inspire. When he took his lips away from her mouth, she moaned in disappointment, but as his moist tongue lapped softly against her throat, Maren felt her body respond. The feminine ache within her burned as his tongue circled the hollow of her throat, leaving a wet impression on her skin and the soft neckline of her dress. Cool, moist fabric rubbed against her heated flesh, and a rosy blush of expectation colored her skin.

  His lips moved to her shoulder and toyed with the buttons holding her dress together. Maren tilted her head to the side, letting her hair fall away from her neck and shoulders. His hands continued to hold the weight of her breasts, gently rubbing her taut nipples until they strained against the silky lace of her slip.

  “Let me love you,” he whispered hotly against her shoulder as he slowly unfastened one button.

  “Dear God, Kyle, please,” she murmured weakly. Another button was released from its bond. His tongue moistened her skin, and she shivered in anxious response. Her throat was dry from the short raspy breaths coming from her lungs.

  The final button slid through its hole, allowing the soft muscle of her shoulder to part the powder blue dress. Warm night air massaged her skin as the fabric gaped off her shoulder, exposing the elegant swell of her swollen breast. A tiny droplet of perspiration ran from her neck down the dusky path between her breasts, and Kyle captured it with his waiting tongue. He lowered the strap of her slip down her arm, baring her breast to his eyes. His groan was a savage admission of lustful surrender.

  Lowering his head, he let his lips tenderly seize the bold nipple, while his tongue rimmed the dark point. Her cry of bittersweet agony ripped him to the bone, and she gripped his hair more tightly, desperately holding him more closely against her bosom. Hot breath fanned the wetted breast, and the ache within her grew to a white-hot intensity.

  Drops of perspiration beaded his brow, and it took all his thin patience to withhold the act of love and prolong the agony. The desire in his loins throbbed for release, but he repressed the urge to tear off her dress and savagely lose himself within her. Instead he let his fingers slowly touch her calf and with feather-soft strokes move upward, sensuously feeling the tantalizing seduction of her nyloned leg beneath his fingertips.

  Maren released a shuddering sigh when his mouth released her nipple and the night air embraced her naked breast. Her breathing became erratic; her breasts heaved with the strain of taking in air. She felt liquid warmth engulf her as his hand traveled in painstaking hesitation up the length of her leg.

  The dress gathered and pulled as his fingers found her inner thigh. Her small hands balled with frustrated longing as slowly—oh, lord, how slowly—he removed her undergarments before deftly tugging her dress over her head.

  As she lay on the carpet in the near darkness, Kyle’s eyes roved restlessly over her body. She shuddered at their intimate touch. He was kneeling beside her, and he slowly began to unbutton his shirt. Maren watched in anticipation as the oxford fabric parted to display the finely sculpted muscles of his chest and abdomen.

  When he slid the shirt down his arms, she reached up and let her fingers trace the supple curve of his biceps before haltingly touching his neck and lowering her hands to the flat rock-hard ridges of his chest. She noticed the way his muscles contracted as he shifted positions to remove his shirt and slacks.

  Finally he was naked beside her, kneeling over her, his bold gray eyes holding her gaze with promises of mysterious longing. She ran her fingers up the outer side of his thigh, letting the soft hair on his leg bend upward as she reached for him.

  He leaned closer and her heart pounded out an erratic cadence of passion as her arms encircled his waist. He twined his fingers through the tangled waves of her fiery hair as he settled against her. She could hear his heartbeat, watch the anxious desire in his eyes, feel the rock-hard contour of solid muscles as they slid over her own. His weight was a welcome burden.

  Elbows propped beside her head, lips pressed hotly against hers, he moved slowly, parting her legs with his knee and teasing her by rubbing his body over hers in intimate persuasion. The pounding in her ears began to explode and she arched more closely to him, assuring him that what she desired most in the world was the feel of his passion erupting with hers.

  Her eyes were glazed in surrender, and when Kyle looked down upon her, seeing the way her damp hair framed her face, witnessing the ragged rise and fall of her breasts, feeling the heat of her body arching against his, he could no longer keep his primal urges at bay.

  “I love you.” he cried as he entered her, molding himself to her as man to woman. “I love you, Maren,” he promised, straining against her flesh and filling her with all the love he could offer.

  CHAPTER NINE

  MAREN SLOWLY OPENED her eyes against an intrusive ray of sunlight piercing through the skylight. She stretched in leisure as she watched Kyle’s sleeping form. His dark skin contrasted with the sky blue sheets, and his sun-streaked hair was tousled against the pillow. Smiling to herself, she reached forward and pushed the hair out of his eyes. Just as she did, his hand caught her wrist and his eyelids opened to reveal clear gray eyes.

  “You weren’t asleep, were you?” she asked with a knowing smile.

  “I’ve been awake for nearly an hour.” His eyes roved restlessly over her exposed shoulders.

  “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  “Because I enjoyed watching you sleep.” His eyes glittered seductively as he released her arm to drag the sheet slowly down her body. His eyes followed the bedsheets downward until the tops of her breasts were exposed. Light from the skylight warmed her naked skin, but she felt a sudden chill as his wet lips pressed against the swell of her breasts.

  She moaned softly as a spreading liquid fire began to heat her blood. The sheet, now moist from the touch of his tongue, was pulled still lower, to drape across her abdomen and bare her dark nipples.

  “Dear God, you’re beautiful,” Kyle groaned as he positioned himself over her. Gently his hand massaged one of her supple breasts, unhurriedly rubbing the soft mound until the nipple hardened in readiness.

  Anxiously Maren arched against him, her body hungry for more of his enticing touch. He kissed her tenderly on the lips, teasing her until she twined her fingers in his hair and pressed her hot lip
s more urgently to his. His tongue rimmed the corners of her mouth, softly prodding her lips open. She felt the delicious warmth of his tongue touching the most intimate reaches of her mouth, and a small cry of desire formed in her throat.

  His hands continued to knead her flesh, promising fulfillment as they touched and explored her body. Knowing fingers flattened against the small of her back, drawing her torso against his, letting her feel the urgency of his desire as he rubbed against her.

  When his head descended to moisten a path down her neck, Maren felt her breath constrict. His lips pressed wet kisses against her collarbone, and she shuddered beneath his expert touch. I’m falling in love with him, she thought helplessly, and there’s no way to prevent it.

  Erotically he cupped a breast in the palm of his hand before easing his lips over the succulent nipple. She held on to his head, holding his body against hers, ignoring the doubts filling her mind and giving in to the pleasurable sensations welling within her. She felt the warmth of his tongue and the bittersweet pain of his teeth against her skin.

  He kicked away the bothersome sheet separating their lower bodies and placed his legs between hers. The soft hairs on his thighs caressed her legs. When he lifted his head, his eyes had darkened to a smoldering hue of smoky gray and her wetted breast cooled in the early morning air.

  “Darling Maren,” Kyle murmured as he let his hands slide slowly down her rib cage, outlining each rib with his fingers. “How desperately I’ve wanted you.” His admission came reluctantly, as if it were a sign of weakness.

  “And I you,” she replied, gazing dreamily into his eyes. She felt his muscles tighten, and he lowered his body over hers as he gently forced her knees apart.

  A soft groan echoed deep in his throat when he at last gave in to the urges of his body and thrust himself into the invitation of her soft body. She sighed as they became one, and she held his body close to hers, content to feel the gentle rhythm of his love. He seemed to sense when her womanhood was fully aroused, and she felt his shuddering surrender at the moment of her fulfillment.