Worth the Trouble (St. James #2)

by Jamie Beck

  “Well, your schedule is aggressive.” Hank sighed. “It’s getting a little better, but these guys are new to these projects.”

  “You’re too soft, Hank.” Jackson scratched his head. “They need to do their jobs. No excuses.”

  Jackson’s attitude certainly did mirror the St. James mantra Cat had mentioned. Their dad had ensured his kids would be independent and successful, but at what personal cost? Somehow Vivi had broken through David’s defenses, but it had taken her more than a dozen years. Who would work that hard and wait that long for Jackson, or Cat? Because as much as she fascinated him, Hank couldn’t imagine spending years butting his head against a brick wall if it never showed signs of cracking.

  “Where are you heading?” Jackson asked when he realized Hank had moved to his truck.

  “Your sister’s place.” Hank tossed the thermos through the open window, onto the passenger seat.

  “Damn. I should’ve listened to you.” Jackson spit in the grass and shook his head. “She’s always talking me into things that come back to bite me.”

  Hank grinned, no longer minding Cat’s manipulative streak. “That’s what sisters do, Jackson.”

  “All kidding aside, wrap things up down there as fast as possible. You’re my best employee, Hank. I can’t survive too long without you.” Jackson slapped Hank’s shoulder before wandering inside, unaware his compliment heaped a boatload of guilt on Hank’s shoulders for even considering Cat’s crazy business idea.

  If he did green-light her plans, it would put Jackson in a hell of a spot. He shuddered at the thought of how much further Jackson might sink if handed that news.

  Mom,

  Maybe I’m being foolish, but I woke up feeling hopeful. It’s not the idealized life you would’ve wanted for me, but I can be happy in a business partnership and breezy affair with a sexy, talented man. That’s more than many enjoy. So I choose to be grateful rather than wistful.

  And now I can keep my secret, because a casual affair doesn’t obligate me to tell Hank the truth.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  As soon as Cat answered her door, Hank noticed her fidgety hands and caffeinated gaze.

  “Sorry I’m late.” He stepped inside. “Stopped by one of Jackson’s projects before coming down.”

  “That’s fine.” A tentative smile spread across her face.

  “Mind if I grab some bottled water?”

  She gestured toward the kitchen and then followed closely behind him, practically skipping. He unscrewed the cap and took a swig, squinting at her. “What’s up? You’re a bundle of energy today.”

  Clasping her hands in front of her body, she swayed side to side. “I’ve been considering your conditions.”

  “Have you?” His body flushed with prickly heat. He set the bottle on the counter. “Are you about to dazzle me with facts and figures already?”

  “No.”

  Deep disappointment pierced his heart, like a pin to a balloon. Foolishly, he’d dared to hope she’d agree—that like him, she’d been overcome with longing. “Well, it’s probably for the best. Maybe in a few years the timing will be better for this business idea.”

  “Oh, you misunderstand.” She wet her lips and stepped closer. “I’m accepting your terms, but I’m not nearly done researching. I am, however, prepared to ‘dazzle you’ with that second condition.”

  “You are?”

  “I am.”

  He blinked in disbelief, even as his heart galloped in anticipation. “But what if we can’t agree about the business risks? Maybe we should wait . . .”

  Absolutely not what he wanted, yet he had to make sure she was ready to take this step.

  “I don’t want to wait.” She boldly met his stunned gaze.

  His feet wouldn’t move. In fact, his whole system seemed to be shutting down from shock.

  “Hank?” She tilted her head, peering curiously at his frozen body. “Please don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind. I really can’t start my day with a serving of humiliation.”

  Without speaking, he reached for her face with both hands and then claimed her mouth with his own. Her hands caressed his shoulders before her fingers threaded into his hair. Every inch of his skin tingled in response to her touch.

  The room around them fell away as he became absorbed by the citrusy taste of her mouth. Euphoria spread through him like helium, lifting his heart, making him weightless.

  This woman he fiercely desired wanted him, too. This moment—the truth of it—seemed as beautiful yet fragile as porcelain. Something his calloused hands could easily break if mishandled. But the scent of her hair and soft skin beneath his fingers made him anything but careful.

  A groan rumbled in his chest. Without breaking contact, he kissed her harder, his tongue engaged in heated dance with hers, his arms squeezing her tighter against his body. He acted on pure instinct, couldn’t think, didn’t really know what he was touching, but needed to feel every gorgeous inch of her body.

  “Cat,” he growled as he tore his mouth away and dragged it down the length of her neck. Appreciative little noises coming from deep in her throat heightened his arousal. He slid his hands down to her waist and then cupped her bottom, tugging her against his raging erection. “I want you so much. So much.”

  She inched her leg up his, wrapping it around his thigh. “No one’s stopping you.”

  He hoisted her onto the counter raining unapologetic, hungry kisses on her mouth and neck. His hands grasped her knees and skimmed beneath her skimpy dress, making him dizzy with anticipation. She thrust her hips forward, seeking his touch, lighting him on fire. He couldn’t hear anything but the rush of thunder in his ears, pierced only occasionally by her soft moans.

  Suddenly he realized where they were. “Wait, not here.” He lifted her, despite her protest.

  “Here’s fine,” she said before she suckled his neck and sank her hands into his hair.

  He set her on the floor. “You can be bossy everywhere except with this.” He yanked her against his firm body. “When it comes to this, I’m in charge.”

  He lifted her into his arms and carried her to the spare bedroom. After laying her on the bed, he crawled on top of her, holding her gaze. For too long he’d imagined this moment, and now it was here. He wouldn’t rush. He’d savor every single second.

  She writhed beneath him, as if seeking relief from her own pent-up desire. He was so stiff it hurt.

  Closing his eyes, he kissed her. Warm, pliant kisses. Silky tongues wrestling. Hands combing through loose hair. Hot, heavy breath brushing against his neck. A waterfall of sensation submerging all conscious thought.

  Tumbling back to earth, he broke their kiss and nuzzled the sensitive part of her neck below her ear.

  She ran her hands along his back and over his hips, urging him into the cradle of her legs. Tugging at his shirt, she explored his heated skin, leaving tracks of gooseflesh wherever she touched. Surges of pleasure and sweet relief pumped through his lungs and limbs.

  He reached up and tore off his shirt then brought his free hand down on her collarbone and traced down her ribs until his hand filled with her breast. She arched her back to meet his touch. He feathered his thumb back and forth over her nipple. Despite the layer of clothing, it hardened under his touch. His erection jumped in response to her reaction. I’m on fire.

  He kissed her swollen lips again and slowly unbuttoned the front of her dress. As he peeled it back, his breath caught at the sight of another set of sexy underwear. A bra and matching panties—sheer netting with lemon-yellow embroidery, trimmed with lime-green silk ribbon—barely covered her.

  “Your underwear is amazing.” He clamped his mouth over the thin fabric covering her breast and sucked until she squirmed. “If I didn’t know it must be expensive, I’d rip it off with my teeth.”

  “I can buy more.” She pressed his head back to her chest. “Shred it.”

  Sorely tempted, he refrained and simply used his hands to pull her panties dow
n her long, lean legs. Barely able to contain his excitement, he worked his hands back up her legs while his mouth took equal care of her other breast. Frustrated by the ribbons, he stripped away the fancy bra and let his eyes roam her naked body, which she’d stretched out before him.

  She propped up onto her elbows and cocked a brow. “We have a bit of disparity here.” She stared at his shorts and back up to his eyes. “Your turn to strip.”

  “Vying for control?” He reached for his zipper but halted, awaiting her answer.

  “Sorry, habit.” She smiled and lay back.

  He grinned and disrobed quickly, eager to be skin to skin.

  “Oh,” she whispered, her sexual haze turning up the heat in the room as she studied every inch of him.

  He traced her cheekbones and jaw then down along her waist before sweeping his palm across her abdomen and lowering it to the juncture between her legs.

  Sinking his fingers into her hot center, he used the palm of his hand to stimulate the sensitive nub until she rocked her hips to match the rhythm of his movements.

  “Hank,” she panted.

  He continued stroking her, kissing her sumptuous mouth, nipping at her lip before dipping his head back to feast on her nipples. Determined to make this the best experience she’d ever had with any man, he focused entirely on her satisfaction. He lost track of time and space until her hands clamped around his shaft and he nearly exploded.

  “Now, Hank. Please,” she begged, lifting her hips.

  “You don’t have to beg.” He tore himself away to search for the condom in his wallet. Ripping it open with his teeth, he quickly fastened it in place.

  He pinioned her hands above her head and kissed her long and hard, lowering his body onto hers again, letting friction from the contact warm them both. She wriggled and moaned beneath him until he couldn’t wait another minute. Guiding himself to her entrance, he thrust inside the tight, hot space.

  “Catalina,” he rasped. Her muscles gripped him hard. Feels so damned good. “I’ve imagined this for so long.”

  He wanted to go slow, to take care not to hurt her, but the urgency of his desire overwhelmed him. Everything tightened as he moved inside her—deep, slow thrusts.

  “Yes, Hank,” she groaned. “Don’t stop.”

  He opened his eyes and took in her features. She lay beneath him, bathed in sweat, lips parted, eyelids heavy with pleasure. “So beautiful.”

  He kissed her.

  Be mine—his last coherent thought before his control slipped and his hips took over.

  Tension and desire played tug-of-war, escalating every sensation until Cat screamed his name and clawed his back, sending him exploding over the edge, fully inside her, hands clamped around her ass as he let himself come down.

  Absolutely spent, he rolled over, bringing her with him while his hands rubbed her back. He kissed the top of her head and inhaled her perfume and the scent of their lovemaking.

  Perfect. She was perfect.

  He was doomed.

  Cat’s head rested against his chest. She seemed relaxed, sated, and content. For several minutes, he closed his eyes and traced his fingers along her shoulder blade, down the curve of her spine, over her hip and back again. Then reality crashed down as he realized where he was—at work. Jackson’s remark about distractions zipped through his head. Shit.

  “Cat,” he said softly.

  “Hmm,” she purred without lifting her head off his chest.

  “I’d love to stay like this all day, but I should probably get back to your closet.” When she lifted her head to protest, he said, “Sorry. I’ve never done this before . . . at work, I mean.” He kissed the tip of her nose.

  She chuckled. “Actually, I’m surprised none of Jackson’s female clients ever hit on you.”

  “I didn’t say that,” he teased. “I just never took the bait.”

  “So I’ve got a place of distinction?” she asked lightly.

  He lifted her chin with his finger. “That and more.” He searched her eyes, looking for affirmation. “I know this is no strings, but it’s still special to me.”

  He noticed a mix of emotions, and maybe a little doubt, in her eyes.

  “You promised you could keep things light and it wouldn’t affect our ability to work together.” She tugged at the duvet. “We’re two friends enjoying an attraction, right? Not falling in love.”

  “Well, then, I’ll try to rein in my charm.” He grinned playfully. “But don’t be shocked when you fall hard. I’m a lovable guy.”

  He nibbled on her lip and kissed her once more before getting up to dispose of the condom.

  She rolled onto her side, watching him cross the room. “Nice view.”

  “Mine’s better.” He winked and disappeared into the bathroom. When he returned, she was sitting in the middle of the bed, pulling her pretty underwear back over her body.

  He sat near her and crooked a finger at the edge of her bra. “How many more of these things do you have, and when can I see more?”

  “Many sets,” she said as she brushed a bit of hair off his forehead. “And we’ll see about when. First, we’ve both got lots of work to do.”

  “True.” He kissed her, then pulled away with a sigh. “I really do have to keep things moving along.”

  “Yes, you do.” She pulled her dress back over her head and buttoned it. Her expression turned mischievous. “But I’m the boss again, right? I mean you are, in fact, working for me.”

  “Yeah,” he replied cautiously.

  “So if I say you can take ten more minutes . . .” She crawled toward him, pushed him back against the mattress, and kissed along his jaw.

  “Back to vying for control? You’re in for a battle.” Her mouth felt so good he might just let her win. But not today. He rolled over, pinning her to the mattress before stealing a final kiss and then easing away. “Now let me go.”

  He could have sworn he heard her whisper, “Even if it hurts.”

  Cat rode the elevator up fifty-one floors to David’s office, still flush with the afterglow of her morning with Hank. She’d missed sex this past year, but after being with Hank, she now realized she’d been missing out on amazing sex her whole life.

  Somehow he’d known exactly how and where to touch and kiss her, when to be gentle or a little rough, when to give in and let go. Everything about the encounter had connected on levels she’d never even known existed. All this time she’d thought he’d need protection from her, but now she feared she’d miscalculated. Her heart might be more at risk than his.

  The elevator dinged before its doors opened, which drew her from her thoughts. After checking in with the receptionist, she took a seat in the law firm’s lobby. The space had a retro vibe, with marble floors, wood-paneled walls, and midcentury modern–influenced furnishings. Copies of the Wall Street Journal, The Economist, and other business magazines covered its enormous coffee table.

  She stacked a few magazines to the side to get a better look at the table itself, and then her gaze wandered to the other furnishings. Maybe office reception areas were another potential market for some of Hank’s work. And perhaps they should focus on tables first and then diversify?

  The soft click of shoes against the hard floor caught Cat’s attention. Upon seeing David crossing to greet her, she stood and kissed him hello.

  “You’ve got me curious about the reason behind this formal appointment. Vivi pretended she knew nothing, but I suspect she still keeps your secrets.” He nodded down the hall. “Shall we begin?”

  “Absolutely.” She projected confidence, although her stomach lurched a bit in anticipation of David’s reaction to her plans. It never mattered much that her face was more recognizable than his would ever be, or that none of her six hundred thousand Twitter followers had any idea who he was—David would always be the family superstar, even in her eyes.

  The plate-glass window in his office offered expansive views of hundreds of buildings on the Manhattan skyline. His de
sk—large and perfectly neat—looked imposing, as did he in his gray Canali suit.

  On the credenza behind him, she noticed a picture from his and Vivi’s wedding beside an old group photograph of her, Vivi, Jackson, and David. That homey touch helped settle her nerves a bit as she took a seat in the black leather chair opposite his desk.

  “The most logical conclusion is that you have a contract problem your agent can’t resolve.” Her brother studied her with his typical intensity mingled with overprotectiveness. “Or is this about Justin’s soon-to-expire restraining order?”

  “I’m a bit worried about the fact that Justin can contact me in a couple of weeks, but I’m equally determined to get past my fear. I’m sick of giving him so much power.” She was, too. “But I’m not here about Justin or a contract problem. I came to discuss what steps I’d need to take to set up a new company.”

  She set her purse on the edge of his desk and braced for his questions.

  “You want to start your own business?” His skeptical gaze didn’t shock her.

  “Yes. I need to plan my next career move before I’m too old to compete for print campaigns. My agent suggested I look into licensing my name, and it got me thinking.”

  David nodded. “Makes sense. So are you considering associating with an up-and-coming clothing designer or skin-care line? Because I’d presume they’d already be incorporated, and you might only need to negotiate a license agreement.”

  “No. I’m not interested in pimping beauty products or pasting my name on some other person’s venture. I want to be involved in all aspects of the business.”

  David sat forward and steepled his fingers. She recognized his pensive expression from years of practice. His mind was quickly assessing a variety of scenarios and beginning to create questions. He would wait until he had all the information before offering any opinions or advice—something she both loved and hated about David.

  He retrieved a yellow notepad from his desk and took out a pen. “Start from the beginning. What’s your plan?”