by J. S. Scott
Mine.
Spearing his hands through her hair, he groaned into her mouth as the tie holding her hair back gave way, spilling the silky strands over his fingers, caressing his hands like a lover. He felt greedy and desperate, his mouth tasting, his tongue trying to claim her. She tasted like ambrosia, and he couldn’t get enough. All he wanted to do was devour her whole, but she’d already said no, which made him even more frenzied. There was something about this woman that was seeping into his skin as he held her, melting the ice around his heart, and starting to relieve the restlessness and loneliness that were his constant companions. It was as exhilarating as it was frightening.
I’m happy being alone. I do what I want, when I want. I like it that way.
Grady was lying to himself, and he knew it. Panicked, he lifted his mouth from hers, an effort that was nearly superhuman.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Separating himself from her that abruptly had been painful.
Glancing down at her just-been-thoroughly-ravaged look, Grady fought not to swoop down on her again and lose himself in her heat all over again.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
“Give me a week, and I’ll give you a million dollars.” The impulsive comment sprang from his mouth without him thinking about it. “No sex, but I want you to stay here at the house. Just show me Christmas.” He was no longer interested in a quick screw for money. Not from her, not from Emily. But he was desperate to get her close to him and keep her there.
Grady’s heart was thundering, and his breath was coming heavy in and out of his lungs.
Say yes!
He watched as her brows crinkled in a thoughtful expression. “How?” she whispered in a low, fuck-me voice that nearly made him come undone.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t really ever celebrated Christmas. Not the way normal people do, anyway. Make me see it the way you do. Do whatever you usually do here with me.”
Oh, hell yeah. He wanted this woman near him, for as long as he could keep her here. His enormous house felt different with her here. He felt different.
“You’ll really donate money to the Center if I spend a week with you?” she asked, as though she were confused by the whole idea.
“You’re not involved with someone else, right?” The question came out casually, but Grady’s heart clenched at the thought. Granted, the guy she was dating had just hauled ass with all her money, but there could be someone else.
“No. There was just the thief, and even he didn’t really want me,” she replied sadly, her eyes breaking contact with his to land in the center of his chest.
Grady wanted to break every bone in the asshole’s body. His arms came up to stroke her back and he pulled her against him, as though he could protect her from the world. How any man could push this woman away was beyond him. “Was he caught?”
“No,” she replied despairingly.
“Give me his information. I’ll find him.”
“The police can’t track him. They’re sure it was a false identity.”
“I will,” Grady vowed confidently. He had so many connections that there was nobody he couldn’t track down. “In the meantime, I’ll give you the money and you give me your word that you’ll spend Christmas with me. What about your family?”
“Only child, a late-in-life surprise for my parents,” she replied in a muffled voice against his chest. “Mom and Dad are snowbirds now. They spend the winter in Florida. I couldn’t go this year.”
The sorrow in her voice made Grady determined to make this the best Christmas season she’d ever had. So what if he personally hated the holidays? Emily obviously didn’t, and she was alone this year, just like him. “Then spend it here with me.”
She pulled her head back and looked at him with an earnest expression as she asked, “Why me? Why this?”
“Because it’s what I want,” he answered, knowing it was the truth. “And you said you’d give me what I wanted.”
“You promise no sex?” she asked hesitantly.
“Only if you beg,” he answered arrogantly, although he was starting to wonder if he might end up being the one pleading. Her sweetness tempted him, and he was going to have a very hard time trying not to devour her.
Pulling away from him, he saw her roll her eyes at his bravado, and it brought an involuntary smile to his lips.
“You have a deal. But I’m bringing a tree and all of my Christmas decorations here,” she told him in a threatening voice as he followed her toward the door.
Great. He could hardly wait. He avoided red and green decorations like the plague. But if it would bring her back, she could plaster them in every corner of his house, as long as she came along with the red bows and mistletoe.
He helped her into her coat and slammed his feet into his heavy boots, grabbing a jacket from the closet and putting it on as he followed her out of the house.
“This is what you’re driving?” he said irritably, his eyes roaming over the bald tires on the small truck. “It looks like a goddamn deathtrap.”
The ground was covered in a couple inches of snow, wet and slippery moisture that would have her sliding everywhere on the roads.
“I know how to drive in snow,” she replied stubbornly as she opened the door of her truck.
“You need a new vehicle,” he replied in a surly tone. She couldn’t be driving on the road in this piece of shit. Slapping a hand on the window of her truck, he slammed the door closed and dug in his pocket, bringing out a set of keys. “Drive my truck. It’s too slick to drive around with those tires. There’s no tread left.”
“I can still get some mileage out of them,” Emily retorted snappishly. “They aren’t that bad.”
She was defensive, and Grady immediately knew that she probably couldn’t afford it. “Don’t you get paid?”
“Not much,” she admitted with a sigh. “But I like my job.”
“Drive my truck or our deal is off,” he grumbled, dangling the set of keys in front of her face.
“I can’t take your vehicle,” she protested adamantly.
He shrugged. “I have several.” He pointed to a huge truck on the other side of the circular drive. “Get into the truck, Emily.”
She took the keys reluctantly, drawing a breath to argue as her feet started to skid. Grady scooped her up and bodily carried her to his truck. “Open the door,” he ordered, not giving her a chance to argue. She pulled the heavy door open and he deposited her in the driver’s seat. “Be careful,” he demanded after giving her a rundown of where everything was in the vehicle. “There isn’t a lot of snow, but it’s slippery. Call me when you get home safe.”
“I don’t have your number,” she said, shaking her head.
“Cell phone,” he ordered, holding out his hand.
Emily dug in her purse and handed it to him.
He programmed his number in and handed it back. “Now you have it.” Digging in the pocket of his jeans, he pulled out a business card from his wallet and handed it to her. “Take this too.” He wanted her to have anything with his name on it, anything to remind her of him, and his contact information available everywhere.
“Are you really sure—”
“I’ll have the money transferred into the YCOA account tomorrow. Get me the bank account number.” He wasn’t about to give her time to second-guess her decision. Hell, he’d wire the money right now if he thought it would get her locked into the deal tighter. “You look tired. You need sleep.” He could see the worry showing on her face, and tiny black circles under her eyes. He didn’t like it. The desire to see her happy was almost a compulsion, and he was damn near ready to do almost anything to see her smile and remove the signs of stress on her beautiful face.
She shook her head, exasperated, and tucked the card into her purse. “Does anyone ever argue with you or refuse you?” she asked curiou
sly.
“I don’t usually ask for anything,” he answered bluntly, unable to stop himself from swooping down and kissing her. Her lips warmed beneath his, and Grady wanted to drag her back into the house and warm every part of her body until she begged for mercy. But he stepped back and looked away, closing the door of the truck so she wouldn’t get too cold, his protective instincts stronger than his own desire.
He watched the taillights disappear down the road, knowing his life had just changed completely, and he wasn’t sure what, if anything, he was going to do about it.
Grady trudged slowly back into the house, divesting himself of his boots and jacket in the foyer, and made his way into his home office.
Picking up the phone, he hoped that Simon Hudson was at home. The two of them had met several years ago, and had become friends almost immediately. Simon had very successfully launched a line of computer games that were still a sensation, while Simon’s business partner and brother, Sam, had started a branch of the company that specialized in investments and venture capitalism, the same thing that Evan had done to turn his multi-millionaire status into a billionaire title. Grady and Simon had connected because they were so much alike back then, both of them reclusive computer nerds. But since Simon had met and married his wife, Kara, who had recently delivered a new baby, Simon wasn’t the same guy anymore. At one time, Simon’s only love had been his computer and his focused drive to design the most challenging computer games on the market. And he’d more than achieved that goal. But now, Simon was completely and totally obsessed with his wife and child. Grady had hoped Simon would get over it, the newness of his relationship wearing off after a while, and turn back into the sensible friend he had known before Simon had met Kara. It didn’t happen, and although he and Simon still talked, Grady couldn’t begin to understand his friend’s obsession with a woman.
Picking up the phone in his office, Grady hit the speed dial, thinking that if anyone could understand an almost immediate obsession with a female, it was Simon Hudson.
Grady ignored Simon’s abrupt greeting and blurted out immediately, “There’s something seriously wrong with me. I met this woman today and now I don’t feel like myself anymore. I felt literally nauseous when she left. Shit! Maybe I’m getting the flu. What the hell do I do now?” Grady finished with a huff, his air completely gone.
Simon was silent for a moment before Grady finally heard an evil laugh on the other end of the line. Grady plopped into his office chair and propped his feet on the desk, waiting for Simon to stop laughing uproariously.
“Marry her,” Simon replied, his voice actually jovial. “Don’t turn yourself inside out like I did. Throw her over your shoulder and take her, kicking and screaming if you need to, and find the nearest justice of the peace. Put yourself out of your misery early, buddy.”
“I just met the woman,” Grady answered irritably.
“Doesn’t matter. If she’s already making you crazy, you’re screwed. Would you be willing to do anything just to see her again?” Simon questioned mildly.
“A million bucks,” Grady admitted. “I offered to donate a million dollars to her charity to spend Christmas with her.”
Simon whistled. “You got it bad. You hate Christmas.”
“I know,” Grady answered wretchedly. “But she wouldn’t fuck me, so I was desperate.”
“Trust me, the fucking just makes it even worse. Then you’ll want her all the time, every minute of the day.” Simon hesitated before asking, “Is she worth it?”
Grady thought about that for a minute, remembering Emily’s vulnerable expression and how happy he had felt just looking at her and feeling her body pressed against him. “I think so. I mean, I just met her, so I guess it’s hard to tell. She seems to take away the loneliness and she made me smile. She’s,” he paused for a moment before finishing, “different. Not like any woman I’ve ever met. She wanted a donation for her organization, but she didn’t seem interested in anything for herself. She refused to fuck me for money. And I was actually happy about that. Why the hell would I be happy? I wanted her horizontal.”
“Maybe because you want her to like you?” Simon mused.
“Nobody likes me except you,” Grady answered harshly.
“Who says I like you? You can be a real asshole sometimes,” Simon answered, amused.
“And you aren’t?” Grady shot back automatically, used to sparring with Simon.
“I say if she can put up with your ornery ass, just marry her. It took me thirty-three years to find a woman who could tolerate me,” Simon replied happily.
“I’m only thirty-one. And I think your marriage is a little more than that,” Grady said, swinging his feet off the desk and swiveling around uncomfortably in his chair. He’d never talked to Simon about Kara much because he’d never understood his friend’s obsession with her.
“Yep. She loves me, and I’m a lucky bastard,” Simon answered, his tone cocky.
Grady hesitated for a moment before asking reluctantly, “Does it ever go away? You know, the possessive, crazy feeling you get when you first meet a woman who makes you feel that way.”
“No,” Simon answered seriously. “It doesn’t. It gets worse the closer you get to her. But it’s worth it if she cares about you in the same way. You’ll never feel lonely again, buddy.”
Grady contemplated Simon’s words for a while, wondering exactly what that would feel like. He was close to his sister and brothers, but they all had their own lives, and were rarely together. What would it be like to truly feel like he wasn’t alone, to really feel like he was connected to someone who made him feel complete? He’d actually never thought about it before, had never been exactly unhappy with his life, but he’d always known that there was something missing. There was a gaping hole somewhere inside him that not even his computers or his siblings could fill, and meeting Emily had somehow made that emptiness seem suddenly pretty damn painful.
“Tell me what it was like with Kara,” Grady asked Simon quietly, wanting to hear about what Simon had gone through before he’d finally found happiness. He and Simon were friends, but they usually discussed computers. Grady had reached billionaire status by developing several wildly successful businesses online and then selling them off, and their conversation almost always revolved around work.
Maybe that’s because that’s all I do.
But his mind wasn’t on work, and he wanted to talk about Simon’s life, and the wife who had changed his friend so profoundly.
Surprisingly, Simon began to talk, and he didn’t stop for over an hour, barely taking a breath, launching into one story after another. Once started, Simon couldn’t seem to stop talking about Kara and his new baby girl.
By the time Grady hung up, he wasn’t sure if he should be terrified or relieved. Being alone seemed so much easier and so much less complicated than tying himself up in knots over a female like Simon had done.
Then again, I’m not happy like Simon either.
Glancing up at the clock, he realized how much time had passed since Emily had left. Getting up, he looked outside. The nor’easter had definitely arrived in full force. The wind was howling and the snow was whirling around badly enough to be blinding.
She didn’t call me.
Visions of Emily hurt or stranded somewhere started racing through his mind, one horrible scenario after the other.
Panicked, he picked up his cell phone and programmed in the number he’d memorized from her phone, putting it back in his pocket, pacing the office like a caged lion, and checking outside about every ten seconds.
She’ll call. She probably just got busy.
“Fuck it!” Grady whispered harshly to himself after he’d waited longer than he could handle, pulling the phone from his pocket and punching her number.
He’d managed to wait exactly two minutes from the time he’d hung up with Simon before callin
g Emily to make sure she was safely home.
The million dollar deposit was in the YCOA account the very next morning. In fact, it was deposited shortly after Emily arrived at work. She’d stared at the balance for the Center, dumbfounded and stunned, for almost fifteen minutes before she logged out of the bank account. Grady had actually done it. He’d made a million dollar donation.
The package came in the afternoon, delivered by a teenager who actually worked at the local florist, but had agreed to do an extra delivery for Dr. Pope. The sandy-haired boy had winked at her when he delivered it, telling her cheekily that it was a delivery that had paid very well when she had started digging for money to tip him, which he’d refused.
Turning the package over and over, Emily couldn’t figure out why she was getting a delivery, but her name was on it, and the delivery boy had been told specifically to deliver it to her personally.
She tore open the large manila envelope and groped inside, pulling out the contents carefully and letting the items fall onto the surface of her desk. There were two cases and she popped open the first one and froze for a moment, staring at a dainty pair of glasses in an adorably feminine frame. She’d actually tried them on in Dr. Pope’s office and rejected the choice, reasoning that they were too impractical, but the real reason she’d decided against them had been the cost. They were much fancier and definitely more expensive than something she would have chosen. What the hell? Yanking off her regular glasses, she slid the new pair onto her face, the world around her coming into much better focus. Her glasses were old, and they had surface scratches, but she’d lost one of her contact lenses a few months ago and was waiting until she could afford to get more. Snapping open the other case, she wasn’t particularly surprised to see that several pair of contacts were in the case, and she was positive they were exactly the right prescription. Dr. Pope knew exactly what she needed. She’d just had her eye exam a few months ago, and was waiting until she could afford what she needed.
Emily squealed loud enough to bring Randi running into her office, the brunette’s face panicked. “What happened?” she asked breathlessly.