by Mia Caldwell
He rowed slowly, pulling the oars with ease, enjoying the feel of working his muscles. He couldn’t stop looking at Jada. What a surprise she was. Smart, funny, kind and warm. Beautiful. Exotic. Other, and yet not.
He noticed she glanced at him nearly as often he did her. He didn’t want to be overly-confident, but he believed that she liked what she saw. Most women did, and Ian wasn’t being a braggart; it simply was the truth. However, Jada wasn’t most women. She was different, real in a way the other women hadn’t been.
“I had a good time fishing,” she said, breezy. She looked sideways at him through long, curling lashes. “Normally, I wouldn’t say this, but, I feel like I already know you. That’s dumb, isn’t it?”
“No. I feel the same way.”
He imagined kissing her succulent lips, sucking the lower one into his mouth and tasting deeply of her. Jada’s floral scent had been driving him crazy. And her body. Just his type, slender in all the right places and plump in all the right ones, too. He wanted to take her into his arms and explore all the ways in which she was just right.
He managed to restrain himself until they bumped the dock. An electric current had formed between himself and Jada the closer they came to land. It was a tangible thing, and from the way Jada fidgeted and smiled shyly at him, he knew she felt it, too.
He got out of the boat first and held his hand out “See? I kept my promise. We’re back at the dock and your clothes aren’t wet or dirty.”
“I’m not on the dock yet,” she quipped lightly before taking his hand.
He wasn’t playing fair, and he knew it, but something took over him, the something inside him that demanded he get what he wanted as soon as he wanted it. Ian was used to going after his desires. Right now, what he desired was precariously standing in a tottering rowboat.
He couldn’t help himself. He sneakily stuck his foot out and deliberately nudged the edge of the boat, rocking the small craft and upsetting Jada’s balance. She gave a surprised cry and waved her free arm to try to steady herself. He nudged the boat again.
“Oh! I’m fall—” was all she had the chance to utter.
He pulled her forward, leaned down and smoothly wrapped his arm around her waist, swooping her up and out onto the dock. Of necessity, he had to pull her in tight against his body, snug her right in there, so she was secure, and safe. Had to be done.
Jada gasped and gazed into his face. She blinked, her kissable lips forming the sweetest little “o” he’d ever seen. He looked deeply into her dark eyes, looking for what he needed so he could take what he wanted. He held her tighter. She exhaled and her lids slightly lowered.
There it was. Surrender. She was his.
He kissed her then, his lips slanting across hers with more force than he’d intended. But he’d been wanting this and it was impossible to hold back much.
Fortunately, Jada was no limp, overwhelmed maiden. No, she pressed back against him, wrapped her arms over his shoulders and clasped her hands behind his neck. Her waist fit nicely in his hands and her soft breasts pressing against his chest was a full-blown assault on his senses.
Ian’s body reacted in unprecedented ways. He wanted to carry her away to a cave, strip her naked and do all manner of ungentlemanly things to her splendid body until the cave echoed with her cries of release. But he also had an annoyingly distracting urge to carry her away to a cave and bar the entrance to all comers, to protect Jada from ... what? Who? Himself?
He groaned and kissed his way over the dewy, velvety skin of her jaw and neck. He nuzzled behind her ear and inhaled deeply of her intoxicating, sweet scent. When Jada pushed her fingers into his own hair he shuddered, aroused by the passion evident in her touch.
It was too soon, too soon, he told himself. But he couldn’t listen, not with her quickened breath on his cheek and the taste of her sun-warmed skin on his lips. He should stop.
Then his hand strayed from her waist, up toward the softness pressing so passionately against him. She trembled. He should stop. His hand rose higher, cupping the underside of her breast. She moaned. He should stop. He nibbled her ear lobe.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered
His hand closed over her breast and her nipple pebbled against his palm through her bra and silken blouse. He ran a thumb over it and nearly groaned himself when it grew even harder.
“I want you.” Ian whispered. He knew he couldn’t stop now. Wouldn’t stop. Ian Buckley always, always got what he wanted.
Jada melted against him. She was his. He squeezed.
WHEN IAN’S HAND CLOSED OVER her breast, Jada thought she might shiver into bits on the spot. How his touch created this maelstrom of sensations she couldn’t begin to explain. She’d never experienced anything like it, not even close.
He wanted her. He’d said it, and she had no doubt of it being true. The evidence of it pressed hard against her belly. Knowing his desire, that this powerful, drop-dead sexy man desired her, played no small role in her own cravings.
She buzzed all over, ultra-aware of each body part that was in contact with his. Even her fingertips tingled from stroking the smooth skin on the back of his neck, the hard, muscled contours of his shoulders and the springy softness of his hair.
He wore a loose shirt of soft, white cotton, open at the throat and rolled up at the sleeves. While they were fishing, it had been hard not to stare at the triangle of bare chest the shirt revealed, hard not to imagine what the rest of his tan, sculpted chest looked like. Now, it was hard not to unbutton the stupid shirt. No, it was hard not to rip it off, toss it into the lake and kiss every ridge and plane of Ian’s gorgeous body.
Ian’s lips claimed hers again, and she opened her mouth to allow him in, meeting his tongue with her own, tasting the remaining hints of beer mixed with the indefinable flavor that was Ian Buckley, more intoxicating than alcohol.
He smelled of sunshine, exotic cologne and the unmistakable musk of manly lust. He needed her. Ian Buckley needed her. Jada’s stomach twisted and turned over.
He squeezed her breast with more urgency and she moaned, pushing against him, wanting more. And he gave her more. His other hand stroked her hip, then lower, gliding over the curve of her rear until stopping to cup her plump flesh from beneath.
Now it was Ian’s turn to moan. Jada shivered at the deep sound, even though the sun was warm on her back and bare arms. The bulge between Ian’s legs grew larger, harder against her belly.
My God, she thought, rubbing herself against him. She’d do anything he wanted, anything at all.
And it was this thought that splashed on her like cold water, shocking her out of her dreamy stupor. The idea of anyone having so much control over her emotions, over her physical self, jarred Jada back to her usual self, albeit a tingly, breathless version of herself.
She was aware of her vulnerability. They were standing on a dock and she was allowing him to handle her, basically, in public. Since when did she allow that sort of thing? Anyone could be watching.
And knowing the overzealous staff, she thought she and Ian probably were being watched. Someone, Billy or Elly, or whoever, was undoubtedly aware of what was going on and were likely wondering if they should haul a mattress down to the lake so Ian and Jada would be more comfortable.
She pulled back from Ian, breaking their kiss. Gulping down a swallow of air, her head cleared more. Ian leaned forward, his eyes closed, blindly seeking her lips.
Jada pushed against his chest, trying to ignore the play of his muscles under her hands. “We have to stop.”
Ian settled for nuzzling her neck. “Mmm.”
Jada pushed harder and tried to get her hand between her body and his hand which was still massaging her breast. “Stop, Ian. I mean it. It’s going too far.”
His head popped up and he blinked at her. “Why?”
She took another deep breath and willed her racing heart to slow down. He was too damned sexy, all bedroom-eyed and greedy. “Why stop? Or why is it too far?”
/>
“Hell, sweet thing, I don’t know. You’re the one talking.”
“This isn’t making any sense.”
“You’re telling me. Damn you taste good. Did I mention that?”
“Uh, no. And don’t mention it now.” She pushed even harder against his chest.
“Oh, right. I should let go. But just so you know, I don’t want to.”
“I’m aware.”
“Fine then.” He released her, his fingertips trailing a final, blazing path over her skin as they departed. Ian took a step back and eyed her. “If you hadn’t stopped me, I probably would have taken you right here on this dock. Hard and fast, right there.” He pointed at a spot on the wooden planks.
Jada’s heart skipped a beat and her lower half gave a powerful throb. “Had it all figured out, did you?”
He smiled wickedly. “I know you’re not as cool as you sound.”
“You do not.”
“I felt your heart beating against my chest. But I don’t want to argue with you, charming though I’m sure the experience would be.” He blew out a long breath. “I want to thank you, because, hot as hell as it would have been to have my way with you right there on that spot.” He pointed again at the same place. “It wouldn’t have been right. So I’m glad you stopped me in time. Thank you.”
She had a hard time not staring at the still-obvious bulge under his light-weight pants, but it was fair game in her peripheral vision. What would it have been like to be thrown on the dock and taken by—she had to quit thinking that way. “You’re welcome,” she said archly, and turned on her heel, marching off toward the house.
Chapter Nine
IAN CAUGHT UP TO HER as soon as she hit the stone path, a grin playing at the corner of his mouth. “I had fun fishing.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Have dinner with me tonight. Mrs. Best told me she’s putting on a spread.”
“Well, I’ve gotta eat, and I don’t see any fast food joints around here.”
“So you’ll have dinner with me by default? Did I push you so far back there that you don’t even want to eat with me?”
From the tone of his voice, she feared she’d hurt his feelings. She turned her head and saw the teasing twinkle in his blue eyes. “I won’t soothe your conscience, mister. You know what you did.”
He shifted his pants slightly at the hips. “Don’t remind me.”
Jada couldn’t help but grin.
They kept the banter light and friendly the rest of the way to the house. Something pricked the back of Jada’s mind, giving her the distinct impression that she was forgetting something. It was hard to think clearly, however, with Ian around.
On the porch, she remembered the fishing gear. “Oh no. We left everything back there. We’ll have to go get it.”
Ian stepped over to a control box that was blended nearly invisibly with the exterior of the house. “Billy? Please clean and stow my gear. It’s down at dock three, in one of the boats.”
Billy’s voice returned crystal clear. “Yes, Sir. I’m on it.”
“There you go,” Ian said. “Billy’s on it.”
“I feel bad. We’re the ones who forgot it.”
“It’s his job, Jada. And weren’t you telling me that I need to give them more to do?”
He opened the front doors then escorted her to the main stairwell. “I’ll leave you here. Take your time cleaning up. Dinner won’t be ready for over an hour still. I’ll come to your room at seven. I’m thinking we should eat in the southeast dining room. What do you think?”
“I think I don’t remember which room that is.”
“Excellent. It will be a surprise then.”
Jada said goodbye and climbed the huge, turning staircase. She was aware of Ian standing below, watching her ascent. His attention made her nervous, but in a good, fluttery way.
She didn’t turn back when she reached the top, heading toward her room and resisting the urge to pop back around the corner of the wide hallway, to peep over the balcony and see if Ian were still there.
Something wouldn’t quit nudging at the edges of her mind. What had she forgotten? She’d thought it was the fishing gear, but that clearly wasn’t the case since the feeling hadn’t gone away. She grimaced as she sought to clear the cobwebs from her memory.
A sing-song humming pulled her from her thoughts. It was coming from one of the rooms down the hallway. She listened harder, and realized it originated from a room ahead, on her left. That was Deb’s office, Jada thought.
The humming was deeper, though remained gentle and soothing, as Jada approached the door. She couldn’t resist peeping inside.
Deb stood behind one of the massage tables, humming pleasantly, an easy, peaceful smile on her face. She clearly was a woman who enjoyed her work. As for Deb’s client, she was stretched out flat on her stomach, thoroughly relaxed and Jada guessed, half-asleep.
Jada might have been embarrassed, intruding on such a scene, and would have tiptoed away quickly before she got caught peeking. She would have done just that, except for one thing—the massage client was Ms. Kitty.
Getting the full body treatment and loving every second of it, Ms. Kitty was lost in full-on bliss. Her legs were stretched out straight in front and behind her, her furry chin resting on the cushion. She wasn’t moving a muscle, not even the tip of her tail twitched, and her ears appeared droopy in complete relaxation.
Jada gaped, then snapped her mouth shut when Deb noticed her in the doorway.
Deb broke off her humming. “Hi there. Would you like to go next?”
“Thanks, but I’ve got to get ready for dinner.”
“Okay, well drop me a text if you change your mind. Massage is good for everyone, even animals, as you can see.” She resumed humming and worked her fingertips delicately down Ms. Kitty’s spine.
Ms. Kitty sighed deeply. Jada realized what had been giving depth to Deb’s humming: Ms. Kitty’s purring. Her purrs were so loud that Jada could clearly hear them from where she stood.
Jada slowly shook her head and couldn’t think of a thing to say, other than warning Deb that Ms. Kitty was anti-social, a character trait which had disappeared on the estate. It hardly mattered that Jada was tongue-tied, since both cat and masseuse had obviously dismissed her.
Jada headed on to her room, excited to call Marina and tell her everything that had happened. Well, most everything. Some things were private, and how it felt to be desired by a sexy billionaire was most certainly private.
A tiny thrill burst through her when she thought about how she’d be dining alone with Ian that night. She could hardly wait.
AT PRECISELY SEVEN O’CLOCK, IAN knocked on her door. Jada took a final glance at herself in the full-length mirror.
“Oh, you look so beautiful,” Elly gushed.
Elly had helped Jada choose her outfit, had done her hair and even tried to do her makeup, though Jada had put her foot down there, not wanting to risk being overdone.
She had to admit that Elly had done a good job with her hair, using sparkling silver, stretchy strands to pull the front of Jada’s hair back, weaving them into an intricate, delicate pattern. The rest of Jada’s hair hung straight and shining down past her shoulder blades, the result of Elly’s deft work with a straightening iron.
Elly had convinced Jada to wear a sleeveless, golden silk sheath dress that snugged her curves and glimmered with her every movement. The hem hit just above Jada’s knees and tickled each time it brushed her skin. A pair of strappy, delicate heels finished the look.
Elly ran over and stood by the door. “Ready?”
Jada turned from the mirror. “Yep.”
Elly flung the door wide, a smile on her pretty face.
Ian stepped into the doorway and addressed Elly. “I’m here to escort Miss Jada to dinner, if you’d be so kind as to call her, Elly.”
Elly covered her mouth with her hand and giggled. “She’s standing right there, Sir.”
Ian leaned again
st the door jam with playboy ease, looking devastatingly handsome in a white evening jacket, an open-collared shirt and black pants that hung on him with tailored perfection, straight-line crease and all. He examined Jada. “Well, well, if that isn’t so. And she’s looking positively ravishing, wouldn’t you say, young Elly?”
“Yes, Sir. I would.”
“Did you pick out that dress?”
“Yes, Sir. I did.”
Ian’s grin was playful. “Then remind me to tell Mr. Forest to give you a bonus in your next paycheck. Well done, Elly. Well done, indeed.”
Elly giggled again, and overcome from too much Ian-attention, scampered off into the dressing room mumbling about how she had ironing to finish.
“That Elly’s a treasure,” Ian said. “She even knows the perfect time to leave. That’s not a skill you can learn.”
He stepped into the room and Jada thought for a moment he might try to corner her in her bedroom, push her up against her canopy bed, peel off her dress and tear off her new, lacy lingerie, doing everything to her that he wanted to do on the dock.
But he didn’t do any of that. He held out his arm, instead. “Shall we be off then? I’m sure Mrs. Best is anxious to start over-feeding us.”
Jada was kind of disappointed Ian didn’t toss her on her bedspread and ravish her. She wondered what Marina might have said about it. Marina hadn’t returned Jada’s recent calls, though. Probably busy, investigating.
Jada smiled and accepted Ian’s arm. The muscles of his forearms flexed under her touch. “Let’s not keep Mrs. Best waiting.”
Ian told her the evening’s menu on the way to the dining room on the first floor. They were having six courses, two of which were Ian’s favorites. Jada was pleased everything was familiar and didn’t sound ornate and fancy, though after her delicious lunch, Jada knew that Mrs. Best could make a gourmet event out of the simplest food.
The southeast dining room was one of the smaller rooms on the floor, and had wide French doors that looked down the sweeping south lawn which was glowing in golden browns and reds in the setting sun.