by Pamela Yaye
“Don’t leave, Tel.” He crowded in a bit more.
The pressure of tears emerged. “We aren’t going to fix things, Grae. Not here of all places, you know that.”
“And you know I can’t do this without you.”
Curiosity added more sparkle to her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I need you, Tel. I’m not—” He wasn’t quite ready to admit that he wasn’t strong enough. “I’m sorry for making you a part of the very thing I once ordered you to stay out of. As much as I don’t want to do this with you, I can’t do it without you.”
Tielle considered him a moment and then shook her head. “I’m sorry, Grae. I’m not doing anything except getting the hell out of here unless you tell me what it is you can’t do without me.” Determinedly, she folded her arms across the teal sweatshirt she wore. “I want to know all of it, and I’ll know if you’re holding anything back.”
Amen to that, Grae acknowledged and then went to lean against the side of Tielle’s car.
“I don’t have many details—”
“Grae...”
“I swear it.” He spread his hands. “But Faro is up to something and—”
“This again...” Tielle muttered along with a curse. She reached for the driver’s-side door handle, but Grae slid over before the door, effectively blocking the handle and absorbing her slight frame when she bumped into him.
Grae had unintentionally crushed Tielle against him, and she couldn’t resist taking an unnecessarily deep breath. She thought of her nipples grazing his pecs and drew virtual pleasure from the memory. Tielle both celebrated and mourned the position. While it supported her—a thing her legs were incapable of just then—it sparked a potent tingle throughout her body, targeting her every nerve ending.
He proceeded to tell her what he knew, but Tielle could hear only the blood rushing through her ears. Her pounding heart provided accompaniment.
She sent a message to her brain. In it, she begged her eyes not to shut, thus clueing him in to how much his nearness affected her.
Cautiously, she curved her fingertips into the fabric of his shirt. The layers of clothing did relatively little to mask the unyielding plane of muscle that was his chest.
“I’m sorry, what?” she blurted when he called her name to recapture her attention. As she’d demanded, he’d given an explanation and was awaiting her response.
“When I figure all this out, I know I won’t be able to confront my brother without you there with me.”
Tielle hated herself for laughing, but her ex-husband’s thought process prompted the action. “Have you thought about how well that’d go over? Your family doesn’t need another reason to hate me, Grae.”
“They don’t hate you.” His hands flexed on her arms at the notion.
“The women in your family would rather kick me than kiss me.”
“None of the men feel that way.” He sounded hopeful.
When she laughed and bowed her head, Grae dropped his easy expression to replace it with a tortured, needy one. Deeply, he inhaled the soft, floral scent of her hair. He could smell it through the fuzzy cap she wore. Taking further advantage of her closeness, he applied a subtle massage to her hips, cupping them faintly and then closing his eyes as though ordering himself not to do more.
“Can’t you be wrong?” Her eyes were fixed on a fine strand loosed at the tip of his shirt’s collar.
“I hope to heaven that I am wrong.” He shrugged when her eyes flew to his face. “I want to feel what you do about Faro. I always have.”
“Maybe if you told Faro—” She cut herself off when he shook his head.
“You know I won’t.”
“Why?”
“Because I can only even consider that when you’re around me. Later, I won’t even remember I said it.”
Tielle shook her head. “Being around me didn’t help much before, did it?”
He gathered her closer; the temperature had dipped several notches during their time outdoors. “When a man loses a lot, he starts to see things differently.”
Grae trailed his fingers down her neck, across her collarbone. The tingles already affecting Tielle began to heat. Her lips parted, and she felt ready to offer him her tongue when the first sprinkle of snow landed on the tip of her nose.
“Damn you, Shanti Dillon.”
Grae frowned playfully. “Who’s that?”
“The weather lady.”
“This may not be the best weather to drive in.” He laughed.
Tielle gave the falling sprinkles a tired look. “I can still make it.”
“Not if I take you inside first.”
Her eyes narrowed as she read his thoughts. “Don’t you dare. We’ll wake the whole house.”
“Not if you don’t laugh the way you always do. It’s a blow to my ego when you do that, you know?”
“Then don’t—Grae!” Tielle shrieked when he bent and pulled her over his shoulder.
“My bag!” she screamed when he made a start for the garage door.
Grae carried her back to the car, setting her down so she could reach inside the car to grab the bag. He hooked a finger through a belt loop on her jeans to keep his possession secure. When Tielle grabbed her bag and tried to make a run for it, Grae slung her across his shoulder and carried his laughing ex-wife inside the house.
Chapter 4
Since rousing the rest of the Clegg family from their collective unconsciousness was the very last thing Tielle wanted to do, she stifled her desire to laugh, chuckle or even giggle as Grae returned her to her room. He carried her to the bed and followed her down, as she’d kept the collar of his navy flannel shirt in her grasp.
“How’d you know where I was sleeping?” Tielle asked, her cognac stare probing his bronze one.
“I make it my business to know these things.”
“But you said I wasn’t your business anymore.”
Grae brought his full weight down upon her. “When will you stop taking everything I say so literally?”
Tielle relished the brunt of his body against hers. That time, she didn’t command her eyes not to close. She savored the sensations he stirred and moved against him in a slow, needy grind.
Grae bowed his head. “Don’t do that,” he commanded in a whisper.
“Do what?” Tielle bit down on her lip and moaned close to his ear.
He grunted what sounded like a curse. Loosely cupping her neck, he used his thumb to tilt back her chin. Tielle followed through on giving him her tongue, and she didn’t know which one of them whimpered first when their tongues tangled, engaging in a sultry duel.
Tielle had lost her cap during the unorthodox trip through the house, and her coarse locks were freed. Grae gathered a fistful of the dark mass, using his hold to keep her mouth crushed beneath his. She kept her hands filled with the material of his shirt, eager to take him out of it and paying little heed to what she was doing. She only wanted this—him—what she’d missed for well over a year.
Worry about the rest later, Ti, a voice silently reasoned.
* * *
Later sounded just as incredible to Grae. His palms were greedy to be full of her, and he set out with intentions of making that happen. He cupped and squeezed her breasts, which, while neatly encased beneath the hooded sweatshirt, were just as beckoning. They appeared to offer themselves to Grae with every breath Tielle took. The brief grinding moves she plied against him had him thrusting next to her and wishing their clothes were anywhere but covering them.
Grae grumbled something incomprehensible while scooping her bottom into his palms and lifting her more snuggly into his mock thrusts. Tielle shuddered. Her participation in the kiss had grown ragged, needier.
“Grae...” Her nails scraped the whiskers shading
his jaw while their tongues danced.
He was helpless to stop, but eventually he managed to do just that. Ending the kiss, he pressed his face into the crook of her neck. “Keep forgetting you’re not mine for the taking anymore.”
“Why’d you come here, Grae?” she moaned. “You could’ve sent anyone here to spy on Faro.” Her eyes took on an accusing sheen. “Why’d you need to come here and upset things?”
“Upset things?” He laughed. “Don’t you think things are already upset between us?”
Her lips thinned. “I’m dealing with it.”
Grae smirked. “I’m not.” He dropped a kiss to the corner of her mouth and left the room.
* * *
The next morning, Tielle studied her favorite bottle of creamer while preparing her first cup of coffee for the day. She wondered if she could get away with adding something a bit more flavorful to the hot beverage. She decided against that very appealing idea. Having gotten no sleep the night before, the last thing she needed was anything to induce relaxation.
“Hey! There you are! I’ve been looking for you since I got here,” Laura called when she whirled into the smaller user-friendly staff kitchen. “I wanted to get your final approval for tonight’s opening dinner.”
Opening dinner. Tielle repeated the phrase in her head, not quite able—or willing—to believe they were still in the beginning stages of the family bonding event.
“Ti?” Laura looked concerned. She set her work portfolio aside and joined Tielle on the other side of the kitchen. “So how’d it go last night? I take it you decided against leaving.”
With a withering look, Tielle took her coffee and went for a seat at one of the tables surrounding the kitchen island. Laura followed.
“I tried to leave...”
“Changed your mind?”
“May’ve had it changed for me.” Tielle raised her mug for a sip, decided against it. “Grae got here last night. Late.”
Laura’s gasp prefaced Grae’s arrival in the kitchen. The man seemed riveted on his ex-wife but quickly recalled his immense charm and slanted a grin toward Laura.
“Lookin’ good, miss,” he called, meeting Laura at the opposite end of the island for a hug.
“Good to see you again. Tielle just told me you got here late last night.” Laura’s light caramel-toned face flushed a rich burgundy when she smiled up at Grae.
“Yeah, it was pretty late,” he said. “Luckily, I got here in time to catch Tel before she ran off for the night.”
Laura nodded. “Hope you’re finding everything satisfactory?”
“Very satisfactory.”
“And you’ll let us know if there’s anything you need.”
“Count on it,” he said, eyes fixed on Tielle.
Tielle cleared her throat suddenly. “Um, guys, I need to grab something from my office. The cooks left some bagels. Help yourself.”
Rushing out, Tielle left Laura no reason to delicately make her exit. Smiling weakly, Laura looked to Grae, who waved a hand.
“Unnecessary,” he said.
* * *
“Okay, I’m about to repeat myself,” Laura said. “What happened last night?”
“I managed to make it through a full day with those people.” Tielle fidgeted with the stylishly frayed hem of her emerald-green sweater. Sipping her coffee, she looked lovingly toward the wall bar in the office. “I waited till they were in dreamland before I tried to make it out of here. I was almost there when Grae stopped me—tried to talk me out of it.”
“In the snow, how romantic...” Laura crooned.
“We didn’t stay outside.” Tielle’s smile was indulgent. “Grae took me back to my room.”
“Ah...where he tried to talk you out of it some more? Excuse me, not tried—succeeded. You are still here, after all.”
Tielle ruffled her hair out of agitation and began to walk the office. “I was this close.” She poised her thumb and forefinger centimeters apart. “I almost begged him. I—” She shook her head. “I was so lost in him and what he was...doing...”
“Oh, honey, don’t be so hard on yourself. This is Grae, the man you love.” She rolled her eyes dreamily. “A man any woman would love to have... Sorry—not much help, huh?”
“It’s all right. But, Laura, I can’t get caught up in him again.” She stopped pacing and flopped on the side of the desk corner. “I wouldn’t survive it. I’m hardly surviving it now. It—it’s too much.”
“Listen to me, Ti.” Laura came over to join Tielle on the desk. “You’re all over the place right now. This entire retreat hit you out of nowhere. You’re entitled to be a little scattered.”
“I’ve already told myself that.” Tielle hugged herself. “I know it’s true, but it is what it is. Grae being here is gonna make this week more insane than it already is.”
“Then get out of here. Go.” Laura nudged Tielle’s shoulder with her own. “No one can blame you or make you stay.”
“Grae’s already asked me to stay. He says something’s going on or about to happen and he needed me...” She slapped her knee. “Why’d I agree to it? Why can’t I ever say no to him? And please—” she raised a hand to Laura “—don’t say it’s because I love him.”
Laura gave a small smile. “Okay...”
Tielle dragged herself behind her desk and put her head down.
* * *
“As a man who can’t stand any of his ex-wives, I now know what it feels like to see an ex you still love.”
“I think I finally understand the phrase ‘pleasure and pain.’” Grae topped off his OJ while speaking to Leo Cartright over the phone in the retreat’s library.
“Do you realize this is the first time you haven’t snapped at me for claiming you still love her?” Leo asked after a measure of silence.
“I’ll give you one better.” Grae sighed, browsing the library’s shelves without actually reading the books’ titles. “I didn’t snap because it wasn’t true—I snapped because I couldn’t do anything about it.”
“Do you want to do anything about it?”
“I want my wife back.”
“Well, you’re in the perfect place for it. You guys were married there, spent your honeymoon there.”
Grae smiled. The idea held more appeal than Leo would ever imagine. “I’ve got other reasons for being here. How am I supposed to prove to Tel that I’ve changed when once again I have to play the role of big and bad for my family and while she’s here to see me do it?”
“Why would you want her to stick around for that?” Leo asked, confusion evident in his voice.
Grae sipped his juice, and strolled on past the shelves. “It’s one thing to handle board members, clients and the press—and another thing entirely to handle my family for something like this and with no anchor.” He slipped a hand into a trouser pocket, clenched a fist. “Handling this without...my temper’s getting worse, Leo.”
“There’s a chance you won’t have to take this there.”
“We both know I will, Leo.”
“How are you gonna tackle it?”
“By waiting. He’ll tip his hand sooner or later.”
“Amen to that.” Leo chuckled. “Boy never was any good at cards.”
“Thanks, Leo,” Grae said once their laughter had softened.
* * *
Tielle maintained her own set of rooms in the house. While she refused to be a workaholic, circumstances often called for her presence on the estate. During those occasions, the private area tended to be a godsend. Aside from Laura and a few select members of her medical staff, access to the third-floor wing was prohibited.
Either Grae didn’t realize that or he just didn’t care, Tielle mused when his lone knock sounded on the open door to her bedroom suite. It sent her
whirling around to face him as she was heading to the bed from the closet to select an outfit for that night’s family dinner.
“Not that one,” he said, motioning to the frock she held. “My uncles won’t be able to focus on a damn thing watching you bounce around in that all night.”
Tielle schooled her expression, refusing to laugh, no matter how much she wanted to. “I don’t bounce,” she said instead.
The cool bronze of his gaze diluted to some warmer shade when it drifted down to survey the curvy frame encased in a snug, coral tank dress. “Okay,” he muttered obediently.
“Did you overlook the sign that says Third-Floor Access Prohibited?”
“Not at all.” Slowly, his gaze raked its way back up to her face. “Did you overlook the fact that I was here last night? You didn’t seem to mind...granting me access then.”
Tielle tossed aside the dress she carried, then retraced her steps to the walk-in closet. “What do you want, Grae? Get to it and get out.” She’d just crossed into the closet when she felt him behind her. “Grae—”
“Get to it and get out, remember?” He slammed the closet door behind him.
“I won’t do this.”
“Do what?” He took her waist, lifted her close.
“I won’t have sex with you while almost your entire family is in this house.” She gritted her words through clenched teeth.
“Sex?” He let her slide down the length of him but kept her secure between a wall and his wide body. “Who said anything about sex? I only wanted to apologize for last night. My lack of respect, putting my hands on you in your own home without waiting for permission...”
“I don’t have time for games, Grae.”
“Neither do I, Tel.” His expression left no room for playfulness. “But I need for you to understand this won’t be easy for me. Sleeping down there—knowing you’re up here...knowing how you smell.”
He traced her cheek with the tip of his nose.
“Knowing how you feel...” His nose slid along the curve of her cheek, his thumb tracing a plump portion of bosom, rising up past the tank’s square bodice.