by Floyd, Jacie
“Mother, don’t blame Kara. Like it or not, I was there, too.”
“So Kara says. Although I’m still not convinced. If the child is really yours, why doesn’t she want him to be a part of this family? Most people would feel honored.”
Wyatt shook his head, wondering how many arguments he’d won with his mother in his lifetime. Not many. Just when he gained the lead in any debate, she had an uncanny habit of changing sides.
“You can’t have it both ways. You didn’t like it when you thought she was a gold digger out to mine the family coffers, and now you don’t like it any better that she doesn’t want to have anything to do with us. Believe anything you want, Mother, but Sean is my son, and I’ll conduct my affairs as I see fit.”
“Yes, dear, I know.” She rose regally and sailed from the room. At the door, she added her final words on the subject. “After all, the desire to conduct your own affairs is what has led you to this current situation.”
“She got you there.” Allie laughed as their mother’s precise footsteps dwindled down the hall.
“She usually does.”
“She doesn’t!” His sister exclaimed. “Not you.”
“Probably more often than you realize. Hopefully, more often than she realizes. I’m just better at hiding it than you are. But today, I’m too happy to care.”
“Oh, I’m so thrilled for you, Wyatt.” Allie stood and gave him a bracing hug. Linking her arm through his, she drew him into the sunroom where she could kick off her shoes and be more comfortable. “Come tell me all about this. How did it happen?”
Wyatt rolled his eyes and she laughed again. “Not the physical details, of course. I liked your Ms. Enderley when she was here, but I didn’t think things went all that well between you.”
He rubbed his hand against the back of his neck, remembering that week all too clearly. “They did and they didn’t.”
Atlanta, three years earlier
Finding it difficult to keep a lid on his impatience, Wyatt leaned against a post at the airport. He lifted his Ray-Bans to check his watch, wishing he’d brought Kara here on a private flight. Or made her reservation for an earlier one. Anything to get her here sooner, but she wouldn’t hear of it. Despite her objections, he’d made sure her ticket had been in first-class. She should be one of the first to deplane.
Two businessmen with briefcases reached the luggage carousel first. Next came two young mothers, one carrying a small child and another pushing a baby stroller. For a single moment, his gaze traveled to a middle-aged couple behind them, and then swung back to the two women with children.
He hadn't expected Kara to be carrying a small child or to look so natural doing it. A man in shorts and a T-shirt, hugging the other woman and scooping both children into his arms. The woman made gestures of introduction. After shaking hands, Kara relinquished the little boy to his father. With a pat on the child’s head, she nodded and turned away, anxiously searching the crowd.
Wyatt stayed where he was, content for a few more moments to look at her. God, she was beautiful. Her brown hair gleamed with streaks of fiery red and curled around her face. She definitely looked more animated and more grounded than she had the first time he saw her in California. The sadness that had followed her around like a dark cloud now cast nothing more than a faint shadow.
The beige sundress with coral flowers and snug jacket bared her throat and flattered her slim figure. The skirt of the dress buttoned along one side, but the fastenings were open from mid-thigh on down, exposing a glimpse of skin that taunted the semi-erection that had plagued Wyatt in recent weeks.
At last, she spotted him, smiled and even laughed a little, before sprinting headlong in his direction. To his surprise, she threw herself into his arms. Desire slammed through him with a force more powerful than any he’d felt since he’d been sixteen and under the combined stimuli of raging hormones, a pint of scotch swiped from his father's liquor cabinet, and his first encounter with a naked female body.
If he didn't control the long and involved kiss that accompanied their full-bodied clinch, he’d wind up with the same embarrassing result right in the middle of Hartsfield-Jackson International. When his hands began edging their way up her sides toward the fullness of her breasts, Wyatt pushed Kara away.
“Cool shades.” She smiled as she pulled them off his face. “But I want to see you.”
Their eyes met and communicated their mutual frustration at such a public meeting. Reluctantly, he put more distance between her body and his. Wyatt needed to get her some place private as soon as possible. He was too well-known in Atlanta to risk such a PDA, no matter how much he hungered for her.
“Luggage?” he asked, praying she’d say no.
“Checked. Sorry.” She grimaced. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“I’ll get the car.” He motioned for her to stay put when she moved to follow him. “Wait here for your bag, and I’ll pull up outside.”
“All right.” The agreement was followed by a nibble on her lower lip.
“What?”
“I want to come with you.”
He looked around. The baggage carousel remained inactive. Travelers milled about everywhere. It seemed like half of them had nothing better to do than watch Wyatt and Kara’s reunion like they were the lead story on the six o’clock news. The longer they waited, the greater his chance of being recognized.
“Come on. I’ll send someone for your bag later.” He grasped her elbow and pulled her from the airport, through the muggy early evening air to the Bentley convertible.
Kara made an appreciative face. “You call that a car?”
He stroked the tender underside of her arm as he helped her into the front seat. “It’s my sister’s. She had to go out of town for a few days.”
“Uh huh,” Kara murmured.
Wyatt shot her a look as he started the car. He thought they’d settled her suspicions about Allison. “She’ll be back later in the week.”
“I can’t wait to meet her.” Taking herself off-limits for the time being, she snapped her seat belt.
Wyatt lowered the top. He wondered how strongly she’d object to making love in a parking garage. If pressed, she might think that sounded like fun under certain circumstances, but right now he wanted to give her the best that he and Atlanta had to offer. She deserved more than a clandestine grope and a poke that would be over in a flash of hurry and hide. Regretfully, he started the car.
The brutal traffic on I-85 forced Wyatt to concentrate on driving rather than on the woman sightseeing out the window just inches away from him. Not a moment had gone by since she’d left him at LAX three months ago that he hadn't wanted her.
He’d gone out with a few women, but none of them had appealed to him. Despite his perpetual state of arousal, it seemed like no one but Kara would do. If she hadn’t been agreeable about coming to him, he had been prepared to engineer a rendezvous in New York.
At first, the idea of bringing Kara to his mother’s domain seemed like the worst possible scenario. But then he’d decided he’d happily settle for any situation that involved being naked in a room alone with Kara.
Now he realized that one perfectly preserved old woman with a will of iron probably wouldn’t have any effect on his ardor. Mother was already pissed at him for abandoning work for Kara’s visit. He half-worried about the form her revenge might take, but not enough to be manipulated by it.
Sitting primly beside him, Kara’s hair blowing in the wind nearly drove him wild. An expanse of smooth flesh showed below the slit along the side of her dress and made him want to howl. Wyatt ran his hand along her thigh and under her dress to the curve of her hip. Only the knowledge that they were very near the hotel kept him from pulling over.
At the hotel entrance, he hopped out, leaving the keys in the console for the valet. Without a backward glance, he towed Kara through the dramatic three-story lobby and past the grand staircase to the elevators.
“Don’t we have to check
in?” Kara gestured toward the registration desk as they sailed past it.
“Already taken care of.” Wanting to hurry the elevator along, he pressed the call button repeatedly.
The doors eased open and they stepped into an empty car. No sooner had Wyatt selected the appropriate floor than their bodies came together with a single-mindedness no force on earth could have averted. Their mouths sealed in place and tongues united. Their arms coiled around one another like bands of steel. Kara’s thighs sought the firm pressure of Wyatt’s. He placed his hand beneath her knee and lifted it to his hip.
Absorbed as he was in their reunion, Wyatt didn’t notice anything else until the sound of a throat being cleared registered on his sex-fogged brain. He raised his mouth from Kara’s and turned his head toward the now open elevator doors. A tall, skinny matron stood in the corridor next to a short man shaped like Humpty-Dumpty. The two strangers gawked. The woman’s eyes contained an expression of disgust. Humpty’s gaze held admiration.
Unaware of their audience, Kara nibbled on Wyatt’s ear. His first thought was annoyance at the interruption. His second was to spare her embarrassment. “Excuse us.” He pressed the button to shut the doors.
The woman stuck out her arm and drawled, “I believe this elevator is intended for guests of the hotel to go up and down in.”
Wyatt had been the recipient of far more cutting scoldings from a much sharper mouth than this aging Southern belle could ever hope to equal. He resorted to the irreverent defense that had generally infuriated his mother. “Goin’ up and down is exactly what I had in mind, ma’am.” He matched her drawl for drawl.
The woman’s spine stiffened.
“Don't mind him.” Kara removed her hand from inside Wyatt’s shirt and smoothed the wrinkles from her dress. “We just got married this afternoon, and we got a little carried away.”
“Congratulations, I’m sure,” came the unbending response, “but that’s no reason for public displays of this nature. Affectionate demonstrations are best performed in the privacy of the marital bed, behind closed doors, and in the dark.”
Wyatt groaned and hit his forehead with the heel of his hand in mock dismay. “I wondered what we were doin’ wrong.” He pulled Kara out of the elevator while the stuffy couple gaped at them. “Come on, darlin’. We’ll just have to try it again.”
While Wyatt inserted the key card into the door, Kara pressed against him. He swung the door open and lifted her in his arms. “I think this is the customary mode of entrance for honeymooners.”
“I’m sorry about—” He cut off her apology with a kiss as he stepped across the threshold, kicking the door shut. His humor fled in a rekindling of desire. Although he removed his arms from beneath her knees, Kara kept hers around his neck in a maneuver that resulted in maximum contact. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around Wyatt’s waist.
Her heat against his stomach sent him reeling back against the door. The instinct to fuse their bodies together before they melted directed Wyatt’s actions. Thrusting his hand under Kara’s skirt, he pushed aside the damp wisp of lace that covered her. She hung onto his shoulders while he unzipped his pants and freed himself. Without removing a single article of clothing, Wyatt lifted her and pushed his way inside her. Hot, wet and ready, she fit him like a glove. Their gazes met, fierce and primal, as Kara rode him into oblivion.
Orgasms shook them for what seemed like an eternity until Kara collapsed her weight against him. Small shudders continued to rock them both. He hugged her body close to him until the sexual haze cleared.
He didn’t know why he should be surprised that their meeting hadn’t played out according to plan. He should be thankful they’d made it into the suite, a detail that had been in doubt more than once. Chuckling, he remembered the encounter in the elevator.
Against his neck, Kara mumbled, “What?”
“We have privacy and it’s nearly dark. Do you think this is what the biddy had in mind?”
“Her advice definitely included a bed.”
“There’s so much to remember.”
Too late now for sensitivity and foreplay, but if his knees held out, Wyatt thought he could get them as far as the bedroom. With more than a little good fortune, he managed it. He placed her on top of the covers and then stretched out beside her with a contented sigh.
“Recite something poetic.” She poked him in the ribs. “We’ve got the sex down pat, but we’re a little lacking in the romance department.”
He looked upward, searching the ceiling for inspiration. “‘How like a winter hast my absence been from thee.’” He rolled her to face him. She smiled, something she had done precious little of in the past.
“Missed me, huh?” Kara bent her elbow and propped her head on her hand.
He mirrored her pose and smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear, momentarily content to have her at his side. “How could you tell?”
“There was a certain, uh, enthusiasm in your greeting.”
He winced. “Sorry. I planned something with more finesse.”
Raising her eyebrows, she feigned shock. “You had a plan? What was it?”
“As we drove in from the airport, I intended to point out places of interest while I supplied a brief narrative on the history of Atlanta.” Wyatt brought her hand to his mouth.
“Frankly, my dear, it wouldn’t have mattered. It’s not that I don't have any interest in Atlanta, but I’ve read Gone With the Wind, drink Diet Coke, and watch CNN, and ever since you picked me up at the airport, I haven’t been able to think of anything but having my way with you.”
He gave her a rogue’s smile that caressed her to her toes. “After that, I was going to impress you with lavish surroundings.” He gestured around the elegant suite toward the sitting room that revealed champagne chilling in ice beside a lush bouquet of sweet-scented gardenias. His lips nibbled on her fingers.
She gulped. “Was that all?”
Leaning in, he whispered. “Then we were going to get naked.”
“Naked sounds good.” She pulled his knit shirt up and stroked her hand along ridged stomach muscles. “For what purpose?”
Summoning all his powers of concentration, he recalled, “The next step required me to drag a slow tongue over every inch of your delicious body.” He hardened against her.
Kara’s eyes drifted closed. “I’m sorry I missed that. Maybe we should pick things up at the naked part.”
He tugged on the sleeve of her jacket. “Maybe we should.”
As his fingers made quick work of the buttons of her dress, she suggested, “And maybe this time we can do it the way the woman suggested. Private, bed, dark.”
“‘Fraid it's still going to be two out of three.” Wyatt reached across her to switch on the bedside lamp. “I definitely intend to leave the light on.”
Chapter Nine
After they shared the lengthier, more intricate details of lovemaking that their first frenzied coupling had lacked, Kara dozed. Wyatt moved to the other room to conduct some business. He removed his phone from his ear when she padded into the sitting room wearing a hotel robe.
“Business or personal?” She stretched and yawned and the robe gaped open.
“A little of both.” With a hand on her elbow, he returned her to the bedroom. “Issuing instructions.”
“About dinner I hope.”
“Are you hungry?” He stroked his fingertips across her cheek and smiled. “Would you like to go out or stay in?”
“Since my only clothes are lying in a heap on the floor, staying in would be the better choice. How is it that when I’m with you I always end up where my luggage isn’t?”
He loosened the robe’s belt. “Good luck on my part, but don’t worry about being held captive here for the week. I was on the phone sending someone to get your luggage when you came in.”
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she stretched on tiptoe to kiss him. “Who?”
“Someone who works for my family.”
&n
bsp; “But about dinner...”
“Right.” He turned to the hotel phone to order room service.
Opening the drapes and sipping Dom Perignon, Kara looked down at Atlanta’s famous Peachtree Street. Giving a mental eye roll, he realized it was too late for him to close the drapes and lead her away. She immediately noticed the flagship store across the street. A distinctive purple logo emblazoned the name “Wyatt’s” across the structure in dramatic script.
She gestured toward the sign on the building across the way and smiled. “Are you named for the store or is named for you?”
“Neither. Wyatt is my mother’s maiden name.” Gritting his teeth, he prepared to reveal some of his background. He watched her carefully, ready to gauge her response. “The store and I both are named for her family.”
“What? I was just kidding.” Her eyes widened. “You’re a Wyatt from the Wyatt’s Department Store chain?” She clapped a hand to her forehead. “Then why don’t you live here in Atlanta?”
“It would be a long commute to class.” Wyatt hoped she’d find some humor in his comment, but she made a disgruntled face. Damn, here we go again. The name always ended up making a difference. It made people look at him differently. Greedily. Speculatively. He put his hands on her shoulders, but dreaded looking into her eyes. “Does it matter to you?”
“Of course not. I just feel so foolish. I mean it was always obvious you lived beyond a college professor’s means, but I would never have guessed the heir to one of Atlanta’s oldest family-owned businesses works anonymously thousands of miles away from home as a college professor. That makes no sense. Why didn’t you tell me?”
He drew an easy breath, relieved by her puzzlement. Relieved that she hadn’t started looking at him like she needed a meal ticket and he was an all-you-can-eat buffet. He should have known the money wouldn’t impress her, but she might feel it wedged a greater distance between them. “Sometimes it makes a difference to people, and I don't like the way they react.”
She stiffened and stepped away, carefully retying her belt. “Clearly, I cultivate the acquaintance of wealthy individuals in order to accrue personal and financial gain.”