Icy cold trickled onto her breasts and her eyes flew open.
She looked up, directly into Shane’s eyes and her heart thudded in her chest. “What’re you…”
He drizzled a little more champagne onto her breasts, then set the bottle down onto the nightstand beside the bed. Climbing in beside her, he said only, “I was thirsty.”
Then he bent his head to take first one of her nipples, then the other, into his mouth. His tongue twirled around and around the rigid, sensitive peaks and Rachel groaned as he suckled her. Her fingers curled into the sheet beneath her and she held on tight as her world rocked crazily from side to side.
He lapped at her, nibbled her flesh with the edges of his teeth and then suckled her again. She felt each drawing tug of his mouth straight to the heart of her.
Her body lit up again and when he lifted his head, she wanted to weep for the loss of his mouth. She drew in a deep gulp of air and blew it out again in a rush.
“Still thirsty,” he quipped and grabbed the bottle. Carefully, he poured the frothy wine atop her breasts, down her rib cage and let it pool in her belly button.
Rachel shivered, but not because the champagne was so cold. No, she was only surprised it didn’t boil on contact with her skin. “Shane…”
“And a sip for you,” he said, lifting her head from the bed and holding her as he tipped the mouth of the bottle to her lips. She took a long drink, easing the dryness in her mouth before she raised up and kissed him. She tasted him, the wine and passion.
And she wanted more.
“Are you ready?” he asked, easing her down and setting the bottle back on the table.
“Oh, I think so,” she said, reaching for him.
He shook his head, caught her hands in his and said, “Then find something to hold onto.”
He lowered his head to her breasts again and Rachel took his advice. Reaching back, she grabbed hold of the headboard and clung to it like a life rope tossed into a stormy sea. He sucked at her nipples, then moved down, licking the champagne off her skin as he went. Across her ribs, down over her abdomen and into the tiny pool of wine in her belly button.
She sucked in air, groaned out his name and held on even tighter. Her skin was on fire. Heat coiled inside and threatened to burst free. She felt every single nerve ending alive and hopping and oh, she hoped it never stopped.
He shifted position, moving to kneel between her legs, and Rachel smiled, eager for him to enter her again. Eager to feel the race to completion crowding in on her one more time.
But he had another surprise for her. Scooping his hands beneath her bottom, he lifted her hips off the bed and smiled at her.
Her stomach did a quick somersault.
“Shane—”
“Hang on tight, Rachel,” he whispered deeply. “This ride’s about to get bumpy.”
Five
His mouth covered her and Rachel groaned, his name sliding from her throat on a whisper of wonder. She watched him take her, couldn’t look away. She concentrated on the feel of his hands on her behind, the lush sensation of his mouth, the hush of his breath.
Outside, the wind tossed snow against the frosted windowpanes. But inside, she was half surprised not to see steam rising from the bed.
Again and again, his lips and tongue worked her flesh, firing her blood, fuzzing her brain. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t remember ever thinking.
She was simply a mass of sensation. Her nerves stretched to the breaking point and hovered there as the tension in her body built and screamed through her, demanding release. Demanding satisfaction. Demanding his body inside hers.
Now.
“Shane,” she managed to croak despite the tightness in her throat. “I want—I need you in me. Please.”
He set her down and moved to cover her. “I need that, too,” he whispered and wrapping his arms around her waist, he held onto her as he rolled onto his back.
And Rachel was straddling him, looking down into his eyes, feeling herself drowning in a sea of gold-flecked green.
She moved on him and Shane bit back a groan. In the lamplight pooling in through the windows, she looked like a goddess. Her honey-blond hair loose and waving about her shoulders, her breasts high and full, a knowing smile on her luscious mouth.
Something beyond lust, beyond desire quickened inside him. But it was forgotten in a new rush of need as she moved on him again. Swiveling her hips, she took him deep inside her body and sighed with satisfaction as she set a slow, steady rhythm between them.
He reached up, cupping her breasts and tweaking her nipples with his thumbs and forefingers. She sighed and that soft sound filled him with fire. He dropped his hands to her hips and guided her on him, helping her move.
Pushing himself higher and deeper inside her, he felt the first shuddering ripples of her climax wash through her. He saw her eyes glaze over, watched as her head fell back, and when she called his name, Shane’s body erupted and he jumped into oblivion, holding her close as he fell.
Rachel woke up a couple of hours later. She opened her eyes and found herself staring at the floor. Clinging to the edge of the mattress, she was cold and realized that not only had Shane hogged the bed, he’d also stolen all the blankets.
A sign?
Sliding off the bed, she hurried to the closet, threw it open and grabbed her robe. With the thick, dark green terry cloth wrapped around her, she tied the belt at her waist and looked at Shane, sprawled across her mattress. Torn between the glow of having been well loved and already worrying about how in the hell she would ever be able to look him in the eye again, Rachel chewed at her bottom lip. Her mind raced with possibilities and consequences.
None of them pleasant.
She wasn’t an idiot.
She knew darn well that the hours they’d spent together in her bed wouldn’t mean to Shane what it had to her.
Sure, they’d made something magical between the two of them, but he wasn’t in love with her. She knew that.
What she didn’t know was why he’d—
Stop.
Rachel shut her brain off, refusing to continue wandering down the twisted paths her mind kept showing her. It was too late to turn back the clock and prevent this night from happening, even if she wanted to. Which, to be honest, she didn’t.
Turning her back on Shane, she slipped from the bedroom and walked quietly through the darkness. She paused in the living room long enough to turn off the stereo, then continued on to the kitchen, moving through a silence so loud it was deafening.
There, she moved around the familiar space, not needing a light. She filled the coffeepot with water, set it back on the hot plate and filled the basket with a few scoops of dark, rich Colombian coffee grounds. She hit the button and stood in the shadows as the coffeemaker hissed and gurgled, scenting the air with an aroma that was both comforting and familiar.
She stared out the window and nearly hypnotized herself watching snow drifting past the glass. Her body still hummed with satisfaction and yet…she couldn’t settle. Couldn’t enjoy even the memories of what she and Shane had shared. Because she knew that with the morning light, everything between them would be changed.
Forever.
What she didn’t know was what to do about it.
Rubbing her hands up and down her arms against a chill she felt right down to her bones, she walked back to the bedroom, opened the door quietly and stood on the threshold. He was still sleeping, so Rachel indulged herself and watched him unnoticed as he slept.
Something inside her turned over and she realized that sleeping with him had only intensified her feelings. And she wondered what in the heck she was supposed to do now.
How could she look at him again, knowing what it was like to be in his arms, and pretend she didn’t want it to happen again?
How could she face him at work and not remember his kiss, his body wrapped around hers?
“You’re watching me.”
His voice rumbled from the shadow
s and she jumped. “Didn’t know you were awake.”
He rose up and braced himself on his elbows. The quilt covering him slid down his broad, naked chest and puddled at his hips. She couldn’t see his eyes in the dark, but she felt his gaze as surely as if he’d reached out to touch her.
Oh, she was in such deep trouble.
“I smelled the coffee.”
Of course he did. He hadn’t been reacting to some secret sense telling him she was nearby. They weren’t connected on some higher emotional plane, for Pete’s sake.
She swallowed regret and grimaced at the bitter taste. “It’s ready if you want some.”
“Sounds good.”
Well, isn’t this nice and stiff, she thought. Any more polite and there’d be icicles hanging in the air between them. But she didn’t say that. What would be the point? She only nodded and left, knowing he’d get up and follow her.
It took him a few minutes and when he walked into the now brightly lit kitchen, he was dressed, his suit coat slung across one shoulder hooked on his index finger. He laid the jacket down over the back of a chair, then took the coffee mug she offered him.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” How very dignified they were, when only a couple of hours ago, they’d been all over each other.
“It’s good,” he said after taking a sip.
Rachel tugged at the collar of her robe, feeling at a real disadvantage with him in his suit and her…well, naked under a layer of terry cloth. To occupy herself, she reached for her own coffee cup and folded both hands around it. Taking a long sip, she let the heat shoot through her before she spoke again.
Then, keeping her voice light despite the ball of lead settled in the pit of her stomach, she said, “So when does everyone else get to hear the news about your big win at EPH?”
He studied the surface of his coffee. “My father’s going to officially announce it at the New Year’s party.”
“But word will get out to the family long before then.”
“Probably,” he agreed, a half smile on his face.
“You’re looking forward to your brothers and sister finding out.”
“Of course. And you should, too.”
She leaned back against the edge of the counter. “Why’s that?”
“Because we’re a team, Rachel,” he blurted, then let his voice trail off and his gaze drift back to his coffee.
Awkwardness rose up and sat between them like an ugly troll waiting to be recognized.
So Rachel did.
“We’re not a team, Shane. I work for you.”
His gaze snapped to hers. “Yeah, but—”
She set her coffee down on the countertop and stuffed both hands into the pockets of her robe. Her bare toes curled on the cold floor. “What happened between us tonight—”
“Was a mistake, I know,” he said and Rachel’s jaw dropped.
“Well, that was honest.”
He set his coffee down on the small table, pushed his hands into his slacks pockets and started pacing. A few steps to the counter, then a few steps back again.
“It was my fault,” he said, his voice gruff, laced with an emotion she couldn’t identify. “And it shouldn’t have happened. Damn it, Rachel, you work for me—”
“That’s right,” she said firmly, fighting back the quaver wanting to sound in her voice. “I work for you—but I make my own decisions. And last night was as much about my choices as yours.”
He blew out a breath. “Fine. We both decided. But I should have been the one to back off.”
A choked laugh shot from her throat. “Oh, yes. The big strong man should have found a way to save the little woman from herself. Is that it?”
His features tightened up and the muscle in his jaw twitched. “Damn it, that’s not what I meant.”
“I’m not so sure.” Heck, she wasn’t sure of anything at the moment. All she knew for a fact was she wanted him out of her house before she did something really stupid like cry.
Oh, wouldn’t that be the cherry on top? Sleep with your boss then cry about it in front of him. Hey, atta girl Rachel, she told herself. Keep doing dumb stuff.
God, this conversation was even harder than she’d thought it would be when she was simply dreading it.
He glanced at his wristwatch, then to her. “Maybe we shouldn’t try to talk about this now.”
She nodded stiffly. “Maybe not.”
“I should probably go.”
“Good idea.” Go already, she screamed inwardly. Hurry it up before the tears start.
God, she felt like an idiot.
But she’d brought this on herself. She was the one who kissed him. Heck, after that, of course he had to have sex with her. Turning her down would have been embarrassing. How much kinder to just sleep with the poor little lonely assistant.
A pity romp.
Great.
What every girl dreams of.
He picked up his jacket and shrugged into it. Straightening the collar and lapels, he looked at her and oh God, she saw concern in his eyes.
Concern. So close to sympathy.
To pity.
“I’ll see you at work later?”
She lifted her chin, and forced herself to speak past the knot in her throat. “Sure. I may be a little late because—”
“Doesn’t matter,” he interrupted. “Take your time. In fact, take the morning off. Come in this afternoon.”
He was in no hurry to face her at work, was he? “Fine. I’ll see you later.”
He nodded and looked for a second as if he wanted to say something more. Thankfully he thought better of it and walked away. When he left the apartment, he closed the door quietly behind him. And Rachel was alone.
Again.
Shane tried to keep his mind on the job, but it wasn’t easy. For one thing, every time he passed Rachel’s empty desk, he remembered why she wasn’t there.
Of course, if she had been there, it would have been even harder to walk past her desk. What an idiot he was. What had he been thinking?
He hadn’t been thinking at all. Just reacting. To some really incredible feelings. To the press of Rachel’s mouth to his. To the rush of holding her in his arms. He muttered an oath, pushed one hand through his hair and told himself to stop remembering. To stop reliving those hours with her.
He might as well take a vow to not breathe.
Restless, Shane pushed away from his desk and turned to stare out the windows. Snow was still falling, with more predicted. On the street far below him, people were rushing down sidewalks, oblivious to the cold. Twinkling lights lined the storefronts and he imagined the street corner Santas were doing a booming business.
It was the end of a long year. His family was closer than they’d ever been and he’d earned the CEO position at the company. By rights, he should be celebrating right now. Instead he felt as though he’d lost something important.
“Crisis! Crisis!”
Shane spun around to face Jonathon Taylor as he gave a perfunctory knock and hustled into the office. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, only the end of my Fourth of July spectacular, that’s all.” Jonathon lifted both hands dramatically into the air before letting them fall to his sides again.
Good. Business. A chance to concentrate on something besides Rachel. Folding his arms across his chest, Shane watched as the other man paced frenetically around the office. “What happened?”
“My queen,” Jonathon moaned theatrically, “my star of the issue—Leticia Baldwin—”
“Ah…” Shane walked back to his desk and sat down. Letty Baldwin, the latest of America’s sweethearts. A young actress with talent as well as beauty. “She won’t do the article?”
“Oh, she’ll do it,” Jonathon pouted as he dropped into the chair opposite Shane’s desk. “But she’s going to be seven months pregnant when it’s time to do the photo shoot. Can’t exactly use the red, white and blue bikini theme I had in mind. This is just a disaster,
Shane. She was my centerpiece. My star. My—”
“—queen, yeah I get it.”
He slumped lower in his chair, his spine becoming an overcooked noodle. “I’m shattered.”
Shane laughed.
Jonathon glowered at him. “I’m so happy to amuse you.”
“Sorry,” Shane said, lifting both hands to appease his friend. “It’s just that I really needed this little crisis of yours, that’s all.”
“At least one of us is happy.”
“Jon,” Shane said, leaning back in his chair, “does Letty Baldwin still want to do the issue?”
“Oh, definitely. Her agent’s convinced her that it would be good exposure. And it would, of course.”
“Then do it now.”
“What?”
“The photo shoot,” Shane said slowly, patiently. “Set it up with Ferria and Letty’s people. Do the shoot now and just sit on the pictures until the issue’s ready to go to press.”
Jonathon’s features smoothed out as he thought about it. “We could, couldn’t we?”
“As long as she agrees, I don’t see why not.”
“Sandy will throw a fit,” Jonathon mused, and seemed to enjoy the idea. “She’s already shrieking over the expenses for this quarter.”
“I’ll handle Sandy,” Shane assured him, making a mental note to call his managing editor and smooth over any ruffled feathers.
“Brilliant,” Jonathon shouted and bounded from his chair, rubbing his palms together. “This, my king, is why you’re in charge.”
As Jonathon left, Shane could only wish that all of his problems were so easily solved.
Six
Rachel carried a cup of coffee into Shane’s office and braced herself before meeting his gaze. She needn’t have worried. After stalling around for three hours, she’d finally come into work, only to be so busy she hadn’t had to face Shane all afternoon.
Until now.
Every day at four-thirty, he had a cup of coffee while going over the day’s reports, bringing himself up to speed on the different divisions and setting up appointments for the following day. It was a routine. One she’d long since become familiar with.
Dynasties:The Elliots, Books 7-12 Page 76