by Anna Jeffrey
She frowned. “A façade?”
“I don’t think that’s how you really feel. I want us to give this a chance. To see if it’s real. And to be up front and honest with each other. But if we can’t do that, or if I’m wrong about us, we just admit it now and stop. I won’t call you anymore.”
She wasn’t prepared for such a frank conversation. “Why can’t we stick to what we talked about in the restaurant? Last Tuesday was good. We enjoyed each other and didn’t get all caught up in feelings.”
His head shook. “When I was twenty-five, I would’ve gone for an hour or two fucking and going on my merry way until the next time. But I’m not that kid anymore.” His amber eyes bored into her. “I can’t imagine that you really mean that’s what you want from me. Or from any man.”
“No! I don’t. Honestly, I don’t. I don’t know what I want.”
He cupped her jaw in his palm, leaned and tenderly fastened his lips to hers. When he pulled back, his eyes locked on hers, the crease between his brows deepening. “I’m a man who lives by his instincts, Shannon. In all parts of my life. At the hotel that night, it wasn’t just a pickup. There was something else there or it wouldn’t have gone as far as it did. I promise you
I’m not a fool whose dick dictates his behavior. I might’ve been once, but not anymore.” She heaved a sigh and turned to her back, stared at the ceiling. She hadn’t been thinking of the night at the Worthington Hotel until he mentioned it, but now Donna Schoonover waltzed into her mind and how she had appeared to be his girlfriend, his fiancé or something one minute and the next minute she wasn’t. Shannon had always suspected that whatever happened between them after they left the party had been instigated by Drake. If someone with as many positives as Donna Schoonover had couldn’t hang onto him, how could Shannon Piper?
“Do we have to talk about it on New Year’s Eve?” she asked meekly.
“I’m not letting you off the hook. You have to tell me the truth.”
She turned onto her stomach and hugged her pillow, still looking into his face. “It seems like it’s too soon to be talking about feelings. A month ago we didn’t even know each other. We still don’t.”
He stroked her hair back from her face. “I know what I need to.”
“How could you?”
“I told you. I’m good at sizing up people. My gut’s never wrong.”
“I’m at a disadvantage with you. You’ve lived a life different from mine. You’ve grown up rich and—”
“Most women like that I’ve got an extra nickel or two.”
“I’m not opposed to it. I’m just repeating what I said. We don’t have much in common. You’re a celebrity of sorts. I’m an ordinary woman—”
“You’re not an ordinary woman. And I’m not a celebrity.”
“There’s that other thing I told you. I can’t let getting involved with you, or anyone, do damage to my business. I just can’t. I’ve worked too hard for it and it means too much to me. I know myself. I’m sort of an all-or-nothing kind of person. Here’s what happens, you see. I fall head-over-heels for you, let my feelings get all involved, can’t think about anything else, have no interest in doing anything else except being with you and—”
“Sounds good to me,” he said, grinning.
“Let me finish. And the next thing I know, I’ve neglected business and I’m not making enough money to pay my mortgage on my office or pay my help and so on. My real estate company is it for me. I’ve put my whole heart and soul into it. For the first time in my whole life, I feel like I’ve finally gotten a break and I don’t want to blow it.”
“What if I say I’ll give you plenty of room to do your own thing? And if you get into trouble, I’ll even help you.”
“I don’t want your help. I don’t want to be obligated. And I don’t want to get hurt.”
“I’m not planning on hurting you.”
“Most people don’t plan to hurt each other. It just happens.”
“Do you have an argument for everything?”
“I’m not an argumentative person, honest. But I know people make choices on the spur of the moment.” Like Shannon Piper has done too often in the past, she thought but didn’t say.
“Then later, minds change. Circumstances change. People start to learn that maybe they made a mistake. Or they meet someone else and start thinking the grass looks greener. Like Drake Lockhart did the night of the TCCRA party.
“Or one or the other gets bored or puts their own interests first.” Like Drake Lockhart has probably done a hundred times.”
She gave him a direct look. “I can’t keep from thinking about the woman who was with you at the Realtors’ party.”
He flopped to his back, locked his fingers behind his head. Oops. She had touched a nerve. “This conversation seems to be going in a circle,” he said. “Let’s move on. So how’s business?”
She was more comfortable discussing something of which she had more knowledge. “Rotten. It’s always been slow over the holidays. I’m hoping for a good January, but the way the market is right now, January might be lousy, too. How’s your business?”
“I’m expecting a couple of things in Lubbock to come to a head, one way or the other. I planned on getting a deal together out there in December, but I had to get involved with something at the ranch. I’m going west around the first of February.
“Oh,” she said.
“When was the last time you were in Lubbock?”
“Hah. I’ve never been to Lubbock. I’ve never been west of Weatherford.”
“Go with me?”
“To Lubbock?”
“You said you’re expecting business to be slow. Maybe you can break away for two or three days. Ever seen a wind farm?”
Now this interested her. “Only in pictures.”
“Go with me and I’ll give you a first-hand look at ours.”
Immediately, she started plotting how she could travel out of town for a few days in February. “I’ll think about it.”
He turned back to his side, braced on his elbow. He trailed a finger down her neck to her collarbone and kissed the pulse that beat there. “Not that it’s a big deal, Shannon,” he said softly, “but I’ve never taken anyone on a business trip with me. If you’d go, it would be a new experience for both of us. A test, maybe.”
A test of what? If that were true, his inviting her had to be meaningful. “I’d have to find someone—”
“To look after your grandma,” he finished. “You can pay people to do things like that.”
Shannon couldn’t imagine what a babysitter for an adult would cost. “I’m responsible for her.”
“I understand.”
She shrugged, still unable to give him a yes or no answer.
He reached for his watch on the bedside table and glanced at it. “It’s getting late. The restaurants will be packed tonight. We should order supper.”
Chapter 27
Shannon had dropped her bag on the floor near the bed. She picked it up as she started for the bedroom door. “Where you going?” he asked.
When she had come here after the TCCRA party and last Tuesday night, she had used only the guest bathroom. She stopped and looked at him. He was lying on his back, looking sexy and rumpled and uncovered to the waist. His hands were locked behind his neck, his biceps bunched. His armpits showed tufts of dark brown hair, which also sprinkled his chest. A memory came to her of teasing his brown nipples with her tongue and teeth and how he had liked it.
“To the other bathroom,” she answered.
“Why?”
“I just want to.”
She padded out of the room before he could talk her out of it. “What’s the big deal?” he yelled behind her. “I’ve seen you naked.”
“You’ve done way more than that,” she hollered back, grinning as she trekked through the dining room, the living room and up the hallway.
On a hunch, she had brought sweats and warm socks. Washed and dressed, she met him
in the kitchen. He had put on flannel PJ bottoms and a long-sleeved T-shirt. No one would believe that she and the powerful Drake Lockhart were spending New Year’s Eve together, dressed in flannel and sweats.
He dragged a bottle of champagne out of the refrigerator and expertly opened it. Two champagne flutes sat on the cooking island, the light glinting off the rims indicating that they were crystal. He poured them full, then picked his up, lifted it to her and sipped. “To an exciting year ahead. It’s already beginning to show promise.”
Returning his gaze, she picked up her glass and touched it to his. “An exciting year.”
They sipped, he looped his arm around her shoulders and side by side, they carried their glasses over to the wall of windows and stood in silence as they looked out over the city. She would love to know what he was thinking, but at the same time she feared the knowledge. His thoughts might be as jumbled as hers, which she couldn’t begin to sort at this moment.
The food was soon delivered. Together, they removed the servings from a thermal carrier and placed them on the table. He had already set it with placemats and silverware, with one setting at the end of the table and one to the right of it. He had even placed a candleholder with tapers in the table’s center. He lit them, then steered her to the seat to the right of the end seat. As he took the end seat, she tried not to read symbolism into the seating arrangement.
He opened a thick warm box and revealed two of the largest lobster tails she had ever seen.. Steam and delicious smells rose. They served each other a fresh vegetable salad and a potato dish that looked heavenly. Though they had eaten together only once before, they behaved as if they knew each other’s mundane habits.
She doused a bite of lobster in melted butter and closed her eyes as her taste buds sang. “Wow. When you said something special, you meant it.”
“Good, huh?” He cut into his own lobster tail. “There’s lobster, then there’s Maine lobster.”
“I’ve seen it on menus a few times. Most of the time, you have to ask the price. And you know what they say. If you have to ask the price, you can’t afford it.”
“Hm. I didn’t know they said that,” he said.
“See? That statement is a good example of what I’ve been trying to tell you. You never
have to ask the price of anything. I can’t imagine what it must be like to be you and you can’t imagine what it’s like to be me. I see that as a huge obstacle between us.”
“Okay, from now on, we’ll eat cheap. Will that improve the odds we can make this work?”
Covering her mouth with her napkin, she laughed. God, she loved being with him. He never gave up. “Don’t laugh at me. I’m just trying to point out—”
“I know what you’re doing,” he said. “And I’m saying superficial differences don’t affect who we are inside.”
But he was wrong, Shannon knew. No matter what he said, differences such as growing up with wealth and power went far deeper than superficial.
After the scrumptious meal, they danced in the firelight in his living room. He held her close. They swayed to the music, but their feet moved no more than inches. They spoke in soft voices and touched lips often. They never got around to the movies. Instead, they watched the ball drop in Times Square on TV. At midnight, they kissed, crossed wrists and toasted.
“To the new year,” he said, smiling down at her. “And our new understanding.”
“To the new year,” she said, still uncertain what their understanding was.
They returned to bed and drifted to sleep in a tangle of arms and legs. Then later in the night, they found each other again. When they awoke mid-morning, their desire was even more powerful and urgent. After a deeply emotional joining, they held each other for a long while. He stroked her hair and tenderly kissed her. She whimpered and cooed words she had never said to any man she had known.
Everything was spiraling out of her control.
Later, before she had a chance to leave the bed for the guest bathroom, he rose, tugged her out of bed and led her to the bathroom off his bedroom. The room was huge, with mirrors all around. The walls and floors were made of tan marble and tile. Everything was unbelievably clean and exquisitely fragrant, with a scent like the guest bathroom. She had already concluded he had a very good housekeeper. But then, wouldn’t one expect all of this in a luxury condo?
“Wow,” she said, running her fingers over honey-colored woodwork polished to a sheen. “To someone whose bathroom used to be an outdoor porch, this is something.”
“C’mon. Don’t be critical. Your grandma’s house was built before houses had indoor bathrooms.”
“We have a plaque beside the front door that says so.”
Having been in countless homes of all prices, Shannon had come to believe bathrooms revealed a lot about the people who owned them and what she read in his was that he was not a vainglorious egotist that Jordon Palmer had said he was. A single hand towel hung from a bar on the wall beside one sink. No monogram. A mechanical teeth cleaner of some kind sat on a little holder.
A brown design circled the inside rim of the oval sink’s white porcelain. Looking closer, she deciphered two bars, one on top of the other, and a capital L. Double-Bar L. Cattle brand. In Texas, anyone who owned even two cows had a brand. A few feet away, a second identical sink looked unused.
She spotted a louvered door in one end of the room. “What’s that, a closet?”
“Take a look,” he said, opening the door and urging her to peek inside.
Giving no thought to her nakedness, she stepped in front of him, her body touching his warm skin. His hand rested on her shoulder as she perused a dressing room with drawers and shelves as well as multiple cubicles holding neatly hung shirts. And pants. A boot cupboard and many pairs of cowboy boots. “All this storage.” she said.
He cupped her neck, turned her and kissed her. When their lips parted, he said, “Let’s shower. You must be hungry.”
He led her across the room to the shower. Besides the dressing room that was as large as a bedroom in many houses, the only other blatant extravagance was his shower. The glass and marble enclosure was only slightly smaller than her whole bathroom. A rain shower fixture hung from overhead and massage fixtures protruded from the wall. Also outlets for steam. She saw what she thought was a radio. “Holy cow,” she said in awe. “Is this where you bathe your harem?”
“Harem?” He frowned and urged her inside, at the same time punching buttons. Water at a perfect temperature began to pour over them and steam began to fill the space around them. “I designed it myself,” he said, grinning, obviously proud. “Well, I didn’t actually design it. I had the idea and a real designer put it together. Cool, huh?”
A veil of steam began to enshroud them. “This is a first for me,” she sputtered, slashing water from her eyes with her fingers. “I can’t say that I’ve ever been steam-cleaned.”
“You sell high-dollar homes. I know you’ve seen steam showers.” He poured eucalyptus-scented bath gel into his palm, then handed the bottle to her. They began to wash each other.
“Well, yes,” she said, “But I’ve never seen them work. And I’ve never been in one.”
“This the latest in luxury bathrooms. All Lockhart Tower homes have the latest amenities.”
“Now you sound like a salesman.”
“Darlin’, I am a salesman. First and foremost. Smart as you are, I thought you would’ve figured that out. Marketing is what I’m best at.”
She smiled up at him and crossed her wrists behind his neck. “Oh, yeah? After last night, I might argue that point. But if you have a bridge you want to tell me about, I’m listening.”
Sliding her front against him, she rose on her tiptoes and kissed him deeply. After they parted, she lathered soap between her hands, then began to soap his front. “I love touching you,” she said softly, smoothing her hands over his furry chest, his shoulders, his hairy belly. She gently soaped his genitals.
On a hum, he pu
lled her close and soaped between her legs. “Sore?”
He was athletic and strong and no matter how gentle he was, a whole night of unbridled sex with him had been physically demanding. “A little. Are you?”
He moved up and began to soap her breasts, paying extra attention to her nipples. To her astonishment, the nerves inside her sex quickened.
“I haven’t been good for three times in a night in a long time,” he murmured.
“Hmm. And all three were notable.”
“I thought so. Fact is, I’m damn proud of myself.”
“Did we overdo it?”
“With you, I could never overdo it.”
“Hmm. You’re dangerous. You’re too good with flattering words.”
She looped her arms around his neck again and pressed her slick breasts against the hard wall of his chest. “How come you’re in such good shape? You must not sit at a desk all day. You must work out.”
He caressed her bottom, began nibbling at her lips. “Sometimes. There’s a gym downstairs. And a pool.” He covered her mouth with his for another luscious kiss. “You didn’t say what you thought of the shower.”
“Fantabulous. Especially with you in it.”
“Yes, you are.”
She tilted back her head and began to shampooed her hair. His tongue traveled along the underside of her arms, ended up at her nipples. “You’re distracting me,” she mumbled through shampoo suds and moved her head under the water stream to rinse out the shampoo.
He closed his mouth over one nipple and that tingle inside her sex became a zing. He slowly sank to his knees, his lips moving down her wet belly. When his mouth reached her pubic hair, her pulse rate picked up and she could no longer concentrate on her hair. “Drake,” she mumbled.
“Hmm?” He parted her labia with his thumbs and the tip of his tongue slid into the top of her sex.
Sensation shot through her. Helpless and needy anew, a little keening sound blurted from her throat. He flicked and laved until she shattered in orgasm and went weak-kneed. He caught her in his arms, got to his feet and smothered her mouth with a devastating kiss. Their lips parted and he said, “Happy New Year.”