by Calista Fox
“Never any guarantees there.”
Michael dropped off and entered the conference room to start another series of meetings. While he also considered what lay ahead for him, Sam, and Scarlet.
THIRTEEN
Saturday couldn’t come fast enough for Scarlet.
Unfortunately, it brought with it a bout of nerves.
She had a hell of a time mentally mapping out her strategy to engage the senior Vandenberg and his wife, even though she had the entire flight from coast to coast to mull it all over. She was much too obsessed with her impending sleepover with Michael and Sam.
She sipped a glass of chardonnay in first class as she fought the jitters. She’d told Michael she had a good sense of what a ménage was all about. But that was all based on theory and conjecture. Scintillating tidbits relayed from Jewel and Bayli.
Scarlet had no idea what it was truly like to be pleasured by two men at the same time. Given her emerging prurient nature, she was relieved the subject had been broached not only with her best friends but also with Michael. For something like this to have happened impulsively would have thrown Scarlet for a major loop. She needed time to absorb the implication, process it, dissect a few scenarios, and just plain fantasize about Michael and Sam seducing her, kissing her, touching her, making her come.
Oh, Lord.
Already knowing how magnificent each man was in his own right, how it felt to have their hands and mouths on her body, how downright sinful it was to have each of them inside her, doubled her arousal.
Thank God they’d be spending the night in the guesthouse. Because it was not going to be a quiet evening.
She’d brought along some sexy lingerie. Didn’t really anticipate wearing it, though. At least, not for long.
Despite her fear of the unknown, Scarlet was probably more excited and eager than Michael or Sam. This was old hat for them, after all. Not their go-round with the same woman. But she hoped their most memorable one.
A second glass of wine helped bring her anxiety down a few notches. So that maybe she wouldn’t be a rambling, bumbling fool when she reached the estate. Though the buzz would likely wear off by then and she just might end up tripping all over her tongue.
As the plane touched down on the runway, Scarlet primped with her small compact and then ran a brush through her long, beachy curls.
Her pulse was a bit erratic as she walked the jetway, but at least she could breathe, thanks to the alcohol. Her skin tingled, though. And a little shiver of delight shimmied down her spine.
She was about to be very, very naughty.
Since she hadn’t checked her Rollaboard, she bypassed Baggage Claim and moved toward the exit Michael had texted as her pickup location. She searched the crowd for a driver holding a sign with her name on it but only saw one man.
Sam.
She smiled brightly at the sight of him and gravitated toward him like a magnet to steel.
“This is a surprise,” she said as he swept her into a fierce hug. “Michael indicated he was sending a car to get me to the helicopter.”
“He did. I got here a half hour ahead of you, so we can ride together.”
Sam loosened his embrace slightly and dipped his head. He kissed her the way only Sam Reed could. Softly and deeply. Scarlet nearly melted at his feet. Luckily, he still had a good hold on her.
When Sam finally broke the kiss, she was breathless.
He murmured, “Damn, you feel even better against my body than I remember.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere with me.” She winked.
With a low chuckle, he said, “Careful there, darlin’. Michael will be disappointed if we start the party without him.”
“Then let’s get going.”
Sam grabbed the handle of her suitcase and put his other hand at the small of her back to lead her out the sliding double doors. They walked toward the front of a long procession of executive cars and limos. A chauffeur alighted from a sleek black Mercedes limousine and opened the back door for them, then took Scarlet’s Rollaboard and Sam’s weekend tote and put them in the trunk.
Settled in the back of the vehicle, Scarlet was once again a bundle of nerves. Thrilled beyond all belief, too. Sam’s kiss had lit her insides. Tightened her nipples. Made her clit throb.
To distract herself from all the erotic sensations consuming her, she asked, “How long will it take to get to the Hamptons?”
“We’ll be at the estate shortly.”
“Great. I’m dying to see it.”
Liar.
In truth, Scarlet’s previous obsession with getting a good look around the place had vanished the second Michael had told her he’d invite Sam along for their rendezvous.
Sam said, “The mansion can be a little overwhelming, I’ll forewarn you. I got lost the first couple of weeks I lived there. Had to memorize some landmarks to know which direction I was going, like the Italian vases are arranged on display stands in the back portion of the east wing and the French ones are scattered on tables in the front part of the west wing. Things like that.”
“Hopefully I’ll be able to find a bathroom.”
“Not too difficult,” he said with his easy grin. “There are twenty-two of them.”
“That’s helpful,” she deadpanned.
“Also eight bedrooms. Six suites. Numerous living and dining rooms. A library and fitness center.”
Scarlet blanched. “Oh, Jesus.”
“Don’t worry. There’s always someone in the hallways cleaning something who can send you to the right place.”
“So when you said it was a little overwhelming at first … That was a total understatement.”
He kissed her forehead and told her, “Don’t stress. We’ll mostly be in the guesthouse.”
“And how many bathrooms does that have?”
“Just four.”
“Just four, he says.”
Sam took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You hardly strike me as the type to be intimidated by real estate.”
“Usually not. One of my best friends, Jewel Catalano, grew up in a mansion in wine country.”
“Then no worries.”
“The difference is, today I’m invading the turf of someone I have to consider a suspect in a crime. Two someones, to be exact.”
“You did just fine when you suspected both Michael and me,” he reminded her.
“Well, Michael was a bit gritchy with me in the beginning. Not quite pissed off enough to keep from asking me out on a date, though. And as for you … You had me off the scent the second I saw the puppy.”
He laughed but said, “That’s not true. It took more convincing than that to get you to realize I honestly don’t have a clue as to what happened to the art collection.”
“Well, someone has to know. By the way, how’s Rudy?”
“Doing much better. Eating more and he looks less terrified of snowflakes and a stiff breeze. The vet took him for the weekend. I figure that’s a good thing, so he can get looked over again and we can make sure he’s on the solid road to recovery.”
Her heart swelled. “You’ve been really worried about him.”
Sam’s sky-blue eyes glowed warmly. “I’m really happy about him. He’s a survivor. A tough pup. And I’m glad I found him.”
“That’s very endearing. And I bet he’s damn glad you found him, too.” She brushed her lips over Sam’s and felt that now-familiar jolt low in her belly, along with the stirring of emotions deep within her.
He let out a sexy groan and told her, “It’s a good thing we’re here. Or we’d be getting into a lot of trouble in the back of this limo.”
“I’ve become a big fan of trouble lately.”
“Hmm. A different kind of living dangerously.”
“The fun kind.”
He kissed her again, slowly and tenderly. Scarlet easily gave herself over to the firestorm he ignited. Let it burn through her.
She was still incinerating when the car door opened.
It took a few seconds for the sound to register in her mind. Sam’s as well, apparently. Because neither of them instantly pulled away. It took some effort for her to finally drag her mouth from his.
On a heavy breath, she said, “You could make me forget my own name.”
“Yeah, I know the feeling.” He slipped out of the limo, turning to offer his hand to her.
Sam guided her through the executive terminal with the driver following behind them, their luggage in tow. Sam checked in at the desk and they were told the copter was all prepped and waiting for them, so they headed out to the tarmac and the helipads.
“I’ve never been in a helicopter before,” Scarlet said. “It’s not going to make me queasy, is it?” Something she should have considered previously, but she’d been much too caught up in the after they arrived at the estate scenario to give much thought as to how they’d arrive.
“You’ll be okay,” Sam told her. “Smooth as silk ride, I promise.”
They climbed aboard and Scarlet’s jaw dropped. There was rich burl wood trim, gold-plated light fixtures, a large tan leather sofa against one wall of the cabin, and two matching oversized chairs opposite it. A chiller of champagne was set out and Sam popped the cork on the bottle and poured. He handed over a crystal flute to Scarlet and they clinked rims.
He said, “Despite the reason behind the visit, I’m glad you went to Montana.”
“Me, too.”
They sipped. Scarlet couldn’t take her eyes off him. He wore his distressed-leather jacket and jeans, along with the boots she was used to seeing him in. The light wind had ruffled his thick brown hair. His shimmering irises mesmerized her so that she barely even noticed when the copter lifted off the ground.
She was drowning in lust and they hadn’t even reached the Hamptons yet, where Michael awaited them.
Of all her adventures, Scarlet had to admit this was the most titillating one. The most exciting one.
She knew what she was barreling toward. Yet … not fully. So that the prospect enticed her and the uncertain reality teased her senseless. Along with Sam’s heated gaze.
In the back of her mind, Scarlet tried to recall that she wasn’t just on a pleasure trip. There was business to conduct as well.
And then there was the matter of what she and Michael had briefly discussed when he’d called her. That whole love issue.
Scarlet wasn’t looking to fall head over heels for anyone or have her heart slaughtered.
She was fairly certain Michael and Sam felt the same. Especially Sam.
So what they were doing was dicey. Although their affair was all under the guise of sexual attraction, it was evident more existed amongst them.
The cautionary tale didn’t deter her. She drank her champagne and let the exhilaration run rampant.
They’d polished off the bottle by the time they arrived on the estate grounds. They were shuttled to the mansion and someone took their bags to the guesthouse. She followed Sam through the cavernous entryway with two curving staircases on either side that led up to an open mezzanine. The décor was modern, with ecru and black marble in intricately designed patterns and complemented by medium-colored glossy wood trim. Tons of glowing chandeliers and mirrors and sconces hung from the ceilings and walls. All very elegant and inviting.
Breathtaking and intimidating, yes. But inviting nonetheless.
They entered one of the many living rooms and found Michael at the wet bar, pouring a scotch for himself.
He glanced over his shoulder when he heard them approach. Gave his signature devilish grin.
“Excellent timing,” he said. “Dad and Karina have already left for the Met.”
“Do they know I’m going to be here?” Scarlet asked.
“Of course. Dad’s prickly about it, which puts Karina on edge,” Michael told her, “but she’ll get over it because Tosca is her favorite opera and that’s what’s opening this evening.”
He handed his glass to Sam, who accepted it and took a gulp while Michael cupped the side of Scarlet’s face, leaned in, and kissed her.
She was still reeling from Sam’s sexy kiss and now Michael’s hot, passionate one was sending her soaring.
When he finally pulled away, he asked, “What can I get you to drink?”
“Nothing, thanks. We had champagne on the way over.” Given the electricity humming through her veins, it really was a miracle she could speak. And coherently, even. It was a bit surreal to have Michael kiss her in front of Sam. She hadn’t thought that one through. But it didn’t seem to faze Sam. He looked as turned on as she felt.
Michael suggested, “Why don’t we give you the tour before dinner?”
“To placate me?” she jested.
“Something to cross off your list so you can enjoy the evening.”
He took her hand and the three of them traveled the maze of long, wide corridors adorned with intricately designed tables, elegant side chairs, elaborate mirrors, sculptures, and paintings. Michael pointed out all the rooms and she could fully understand how Sam had gotten lost in the beginning. The place was huge. And clearly, no expense had been spared.
It was a good hour later when Sam opened double doors at the end of one wing and announced, “The art gallery. Such that it is these days.”
Scarlet stepped into the massive room. She surveyed her surroundings, mentally noting the framed pieces and more sculptures. Then she did a closer visual inspection of the walls. There were some empty spaces, but the gaps didn’t necessarily indicate there’d recently been a painting hanging there—and would be again as soon as she left the premises. There were no holes from nails, no variance in the shade of paint that might suggest those holes had just been plugged and touch-ups performed that looked fresher or newer than the older paint.
Of course, that didn’t mean the entire room couldn’t have been repainted in the two days since Michael had summoned her and she’d arrived. Yet Scarlet did not get the sense that the missing artwork had been returned to this gallery and was thus stashed away during her visit.
It was all very peculiar. Where the hell were those paintings?
Certainly not here.
She said, “Everything looks to be in order. Do you mind if I interview random staff members?”
“Suit yourself,” Michael confidently said.
Scarlet stopped to speak with a few housekeepers and an electrician, two of whom had been on-property the evening of the theft, though they’d been outside mostly, working the party. Scarlet had a feeling that would be a common response, since hosting five hundred people at an outdoor event likely required all hands on deck—and because that had been the answer given when employees had been quizzed by the FBI.
The trio made their way to a dining room. A smaller, less formal one, much to her relief. The table was already set for three and a sommelier was on hand to discuss wine selections and pour. The meal was exquisite, though Scarlet’s appetite was a bit scarce. Partially because her mind was wrapped around the disappearance of the art collection. But mostly, she was thinking beyond dinner. Specifically, what would transpire when she, Michael, and Sam retired to the guesthouse.
Butterflies took flight in her stomach and she felt a little giddy, which she could maybe blame on the wine but knew better what the real reason was. She was antsy over the rest of the evening. Anxious to see Michael and Sam naked and hard.
Wanting her.
Heat burst on her cheeks. This was quickly becoming the longest dinner ever.
Both men kept the conversation light and she was grateful for that. She wouldn’t have been able to concentrate on anything too mentally taxing.
They had crème brûlée and coffee in a separate room, in front of a tall fireplace. The drapes on the windows and patio doors were pulled back to showcase the grounds and the falling snow. It was all very lovely and even cozy, despite the enormity of every room.
When dessert was over, Michael said, “We’ll take a car to the guesthouse. It sits on the back portion o
f the estate.”
Anticipation could be a real bitch. It clawed at her. Hitched her enthusiasm. Made it difficult to breathe.
Michael and Sam escorted her to the foyer, where they were handed their coats by the butler. Sam helped her into hers. They left the main house and Michael drove them down a winding pavered path carved into the trees that lined each side of the estate as well as the acreage beyond the mansion. The three-bedroom guesthouse had a gorgeous wood-accented entryway and sweeping staircase, numerous windows, and a heated swimming pool and spa.
Sam built a fire in the living room hearth as Scarlet admired the views through the glass panes along one wall.
Michael stole behind her and whisked her hair over her shoulder. He kissed her temple, then asked, “Do you want wine or water? Anything?”
She gazed at his reflection and smiled. “I want to know that the two of you are still going through with this.”
“We’re here, aren’t we?”
She faced Michael. His mouth sealed to hers. His hands clasped her hips just as her fingers fisted the front of his shirt. The searing lip-lock went on and on. Until Scarlet was completely breathless.
She pulled away … but still wanted more.
Her gaze landed on Sam, standing alongside the fireplace, watching them. The vibrant glow in his beautiful blue eyes spurred her on. She crossed to him, slid her palms up his chest to his shoulders. Then downward where she clutched his bulging biceps. He kissed her slowly, evocatively, their lips and tongues twisting and tangling. He palmed her ass and squeezed before pressing her firmly against him. She felt his erection and it thrilled her even more to know how quickly he responded to her. To the sight of Michael kissing her and the wicked promise of what was to come.
Behind her she smelled Michael’s distinct scent, and her excitement ratcheted as he moved in close and his lips skimmed along her neck. He nipped the skin as Sam continued his sensuous kisses. Already she was careening toward sensory overload. And they’d just started.…
Between kisses, Sam murmured, “Let’s take this to the bedroom.”
Desire flared deep within her. She was really and truly going to get her wish. Her fantasy.