Created In Fire (Art of Love Series)

by McDonald, Donna

  “You won’t kill me. You like this too much. Dead men can’t do this,” he said laughing, their bodies ebbing and flowing together as he used the wetness of their previous time to torment her.

  If he kept this up, they were going to have to change the sheets to sleep, Michael thought. Just the idea of ruining sheets with Carrie aroused him until he felt her struggling against the man of iron he’d become.

  His recovery time with her defied biology, but thrilled him completely.

  Michael rolled their connected bodies to the bottom of the bed, grinning and hoping to save the sheets a little.

  “We’re going to need a shower and new sheets if you keep moving us so much,” Carrie told him archly, blushing when Michael laughed at her honesty.

  “Listen to you. I was all set to say terribly romantic things and declare my devotion,” Michael told her, his stomach rippling across her with every plunge. “Now all I can think about is how good this feels, how wet you are, and how happy I am that I made you that way. I guess it’s a guy thing to be crass.”

  “No—it’s a Michael Larson thing,” Carrie corrected, her voice less caustic than she hoped as the pleasure built inside her again.

  Michael was too pleased at the look of bliss on Carrie’s face to be offended at the reminder of her other lovers.

  “There’s certainly something to be said for good old sweaty sex,” he told her, grinning at her snort.

  “Like it’s wet and messy?” Carrie demanded, bracing herself on Michael’s shoulders as he changed his angle and made her eyes roll up in her head. “Sometimes it shocks me how good you are at this.”

  “The good is not my talent, but the perfect materials I’m working with. Look at me,” Michael demanded, sliding hard against her as her gaze met his. “The good is us. The great—the great is magic.”

  “Great?” she asked, not understanding.

  Michael reached under Carrie and lifted her hips to his, sliding hard and holding as he bent his head to suckle the nearest aroused breast he found.

  “Michael,” she called, feeling the climax shimmer and explode in a glittery burst of stars behind her eyelids as he moved to the other breast.

  The only sounds she made after the orgasm started were keening moans of release as he kept sliding against her. Carrie felt so much heat inside that she thought she might self-combust if Michael didn’t stop soon.

  Then it jarred her entire body when Michael howled against her breast as he climaxed. She was trembling with gratitude when he finally lowered himself into her embrace, both for the climax he gave her and that it was over before he wore her out.

  His hair fell damply around their sweat-drenched bodies as he lowered himself mostly down, bending his arms to hold his chest off hers.

  Unable to resist how he looked, Carrie moved his hair and stroked his face as she held his gaze.

  “I like you so much, Carrie. I like you more than anyone I’ve ever known,” Michael told her, kissing her. “I would do just about anything to make you like me back.”

  It was so earnest a statement that it rocked Carrie more than would have the declaration of love she’d talked him out of making.

  Carrie lifted her other hand to his face. Turning his face, Michael kissed the nearest palm.

  “I like you back,” Carrie admitted, knowing it was truer now than it had been before last Friday. “You don’t have to do anything but be yourself.”

  “You like me for this?” Michael asked, shifting his hips against hers and wondering if it mattered that sex might be all that was keeping her with him.

  Carrie laughed. “No. Stop fishing for compliments on your manhood. I thought you didn’t require any stroking.”

  “That was my artist ego. The rest of me likes stroking,” Michael said, grinning.

  Carrie laughed genuinely then, letting herself enjoy the rare moment of no emotional pain.

  “You wear your artist soul on the outside, Michael. You live your life passionately, and you will never be an easy man to be with. Still, I like you for how much you try to live honestly, not that you always get it right,” she said on a laugh, playing with his damp hair. “Some people live watching life. Others live reacting to life. You live by feeling life. It shows up in your art. I don’t just like you. I also respect you for working to be true to yourself.”

  Michael kissed her hair and her face and everywhere his lips could travel without moving off her.

  “You’re being true to yourself, too. That’s what made me cry this morning,” Michael said softly. “I realized that you’ve got to do what feels right to you, and that I’ve got to let you. It’s hell to only be able to watch. I’m trying extra hard to be irresistible in bed in case it’s all I’ve got going for me.”

  “Well, the extra hard part comes easily to you,” Carrie said dryly, listening to Michael laugh into her hair. “Did you find enlightenment in your art?”

  “No. Shane told me I was being a bastard and to get my shit together,” Michael told her, hoping to make her laugh again, pleased when she did.

  “They’re not actually going to give your brother a license to counsel real clients are they?” she said sarcastically.

  Michael laughed. “Maybe I’m paraphrasing his advice a little colorfully.”

  Carrie laughed again, feeling closer to Michael as they teased about Shane. “I hope so for his clients’ sake.” She turned her head, trying to see the clock. “What time is it?”

  “It’s a little after eleven,” Michael told her. “Why?”

  “Because that means there’s time for a shower. If I don’t get my seven hours, it makes me more ill,” Carrie said. “Let me up.”

  Michael slid off her reluctantly. “Want company?”

  “Sure,” she said, grinning. “Come in as soon as you’ve changed the sheets you so determinedly messed up tonight.”

  Michael smiled. “How about I throw a dry blanket on top and change the sheets tomorrow?”

  “So long as I’m not wallowing in a giant wet spot all night,” Carrie retorted.

  “Sorry. I can’t promise that,” Michael said, hoping she couldn’t see his smile in the dimly lit room. He stripped the top covers off the bed in a flourish.

  Carrie looked back at him, giving him a what-the-hell look that had Michael laughing more.

  “If you roll into me and make demands in the middle of the night, I am going to answer the call of your raging hormones,” Michael said firmly.

  “Thanks. You just reminded me of one of the things I hate most about men,” Carrie said, stomping off.

  “What’s that?” Michael yelled, getting a blanket from a chest and flipping it over the whole bed.

  “They’re little more than animals when it comes to sex,” Carrie said, setting the shower and climbing in quickly.

  She didn’t want Michael to see her laughing uncontrollably at him howling and growling as he fixed the bed.

  Chapter 12

  A few days passed uneventfully at work, but Friday was proving to be one of those days that tested all Carrie’s patience.

  Her featured artist, Lana Dowling, was prowling the staging area in the room set up near Rupp Arena for her show. The woman was obviously a nervous wreck about the evening, which meant Carrie had to sooth and console, something that did not come easily to her.

  The lighting technicians had been late, so they were now scrambling to finish before three.

  Then to top off all the other stress, Carrie was now intimately working with dragon girlfriend number two, who had recently been promoted to junior coordinator and assigned to her show today for training.

  Even on a good day, working with one of Michael’s old flames would have been enough to make her scream, Carrie decided. On a bad day, she just wanted to escape.

  “Lana, why don’t you go walk around the shops upstairs and grab some alone time to calm yourself. The art isn’t arriving until this afternoon. You’re going to need to be a hundred percent by then. These next few h
ours are just the nitty-gritty, unglamorous side of the show,” Carrie said, softening her orders with a smile.

  “Are you sure everything’s going to get done?” Lana asked.

  “Absolutely,” Carrie said, smiling. “There is always a bit of chaos, but it comes together. You’re distracting me with worry about you. I have lots of things I need to be checking on, but I don’t want you having a meltdown when I need you to be a star later.”

  “Okay. I get that I’m in your way. I’ll take a walk,” Lana said, reaching out to pat Carrie on the arm.

  “Good,” Carrie said, rubbing Lana’s hand in return. “Make it a long break and you might see some progress when you get back.”

  Lana nodded, sighed, and walked off through the mall area.

  “Hey, Carrie,” John said, stopping beside her. “I need one minute and then I’ll let you get back to things.”

  “Sure,” Carrie replied, tucking the clipboard against her front as she prepared to listen to her boss.

  “Are you really engaged to Michael Larson?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Carrie said, sighing and standing straighter when she realized it was a personal question and not a business one. “We’re getting married in about two weeks.”

  “I never knew you two had that kind of relationship,” John said carefully.

  “It’s only been going on a couple months,” Carrie said. “We just got engaged a couple weeks ago. Things have moved a bit fast.”

  “Does Lana or Tyler know?” he asked, wondering how the other two artist clients had handled the information.

  “No. I haven’t been telling everyone yet. Why do you ask that?” Carrie demanded.

  “It’s called conflict of interest. I’m not saying we have one here, but it skirts the edge. If Lana or Tyler makes waves about it, we’re going to have to talk,” John told her.

  “I don’t understand the concern,” Carrie said, looking at her boss in surprise.

  “If people think you do better event planning work for your future husband than you do for your other clients, they might not take it so well,” John said with a shrug. “Maybe we should talk about shifting Michael’s work to another planner.”

  Carrie got it then. She got who had planted the seeds in John and why he’d been watching her so closely today. “Let me guess. Erin told you about me and Michael. I bet she suggested that she take over Michael’s events.”

  “Well, it doesn’t really matter who brought the subject up,” John began, only to be interrupted by Carrie’s head shaking.

  “No,” Carrie said darkly, “I know you dated Erin and that’s your business. But Erin and Michael dated for years, and that’s mine. You put his events with her and I’ll make sure knowledge of your relationship to her is made public. I’m your senior planner and deserve your professional loyalty no matter who you’ve slept with in the company.”

  John’s face flushed. He had forgotten just how fiercely outspoken his senior planner could be, and had learned over the years not to cross her. He didn’t want her leaving because she brought in more money for her events than any two other planners he had. He just didn’t want unhappy clients.

  “I’m not trying to upset you, Carrie. This is just one of those business things we need to head off before it becomes a problem. Who would you want to handle Michael’s events if not Erin?” John asked.

  “Give them to George,” Carrie said firmly. “I’ll train him to do art events if Michael wants to host another one. George won’t like them as well, but it will give him experience. Michael’s contract is up after two more pieces. There’s a buyer for one who’s hovering on the line. That leaves George moving just the last one. Michael can choose a new planner with you after that.”

  “Look—I’m sorry. I should have probably waited to talk to you about this next week at the office. I didn’t think you’d react so strongly. You’re always so level headed about office politics,” John said. “Let’s get together next week and talk this through completely. Maybe we can postpone the planner move until Michael renews his contract.”

  “Fine. Whatever you want. Now you’ll have to excuse me so I can get this day from hell over with. Go be a supportive boss, John. Get Erin out of my sight today unless you want a scene at Lana’s art show. If she says anything to me, I will not be accountable for my reaction. I’ve had all the melodrama out of her I can handle this week”

  Carrie started to walk off but changed her mind. She was tired of slaying dragons and watching them get back up and attack her again. “You also need to tell my new assistant, who also used to sleep with my future husband, that she’s going to be road kill soon if she doesn’t start doing her damn job,” Carrie said. “Lana and her work deserve a lot more than she’s getting from this company, but I can’t do it all by myself. Find me some women to work with who haven’t slept with Michael.”

  “Fine. Sure. I’ll—I’ll take care of things,” John said, realizing that Erin had not been as honest about the situation as he’d credited her with being. She’d said Carrie wasn’t in love with Michael, but John could see that wasn’t the truth.

  Damn Larson for sleeping around in his company, John thought, then winced at the hypocrisy. He’d been flirting with Carrie for years too, but she’d never given dating her boss a serious thought. Larson had never been successful with her until now either, and Carrie’s support of him had been a total surprise.

  But you couldn’t change history, John thought. You could only deal with the present. Business-wise, he was grateful Carrie’s loyalty to the work was keeping her on task.

  John agreed with Carrie that Lana and her work deserved their best efforts. It didn’t need to be a substitute bone between snarling dogs. He had no doubt that if Michael Larson had come strolling in, it would have been more than a scene now that Carrie was so mad at Erin and him. The woman had a devilish temper. It was about her only fault.

  Pulling out his cell, John made a couple calls to get some replacements to help Carrie. Then he went to tell Erin and a couple others that they were no longer needed today.

  Chapter 13

  When Lana came back after lunch, Carrie was calmer. She was still mad, but satisfied to have finished slaying two of the dragons. Now they were really dead and gone from her sight. If she had her way, she’d never work with them again, which is why her conversation with John had also goaded her into making a decision she should have made long ago.

  She was going to resign Monday and couldn’t believe how much peace of mind even thinking about leaving her job promised. Maybe it was running away, but the prospect cheered her. Maybe it was just knowing she had fought the fight long enough on the battleground she and Michael had chosen. Even if the past was the past, she was still tired of confronting women he had slept with around every corner. She was tired of working in a place that caused her so much emotional grief.

  Instead of two weeks notice, she was going to give four months. That would take her out to almost the end of the pregnancy and allow her to fill her commitments at work. The last bit of time she would prepare for the baby and plan what to do with the rest of her life.

  Several windfalls of commission over the years had helped her build a savings that would allow her some time to choose. Maybe she would look for work in a gallery somewhere. Maybe after the baby was born and Michael had full custody, she’d move to Bowling Green, live close to Darla and Alison for a while.

  Either way, she was for damn sure not going to be slaying any more of Michael Larson’s dragons after four months from now.

  And the next time she developed a relationship with a man, she was going look for a guy that would be all hers.

  “Hey,” Lana said, looking around and smiling. “You were right. This looks great now.”

  Carrie smiled. “It’s the way the process works. Art out of chaos—I’m sure you get that.”

  Lana nodded, her gaze taking in Carrie’s hands as she arranged cloths over the tables, where her paintings would be featured.r />
  “Wow, Carrie. What a beautiful ring. Somebody really loves you,” Lana said, laughing. “Who’s the guy?”

  Carrie stopped, looked up to meet Lana’s gaze. “Michael Larson.”

  It surprised her when Lana just smiled and laughed.

  “That doesn’t surprise me a bit. I went to a show you did for him before I signed with John,” she said. “Michael watched every move you made all evening. At first I thought he was worried about the job you were doing, then I followed his line of vision to your legs. I asked him if you were worth your commission. He said you were worth everything. I thought that was a little melodramatic, but I guess he was gone on you even then.”

  “We only got together a couple months ago,” Carrie said, going back to her task and trying not to regret shutting Michael out back then.

  “Does the man move slow or do you?” Lana asked. “What I’m talking about happened a couple years ago.”

  “I was probably married at the time,” Carrie said flatly. “When I wasn’t married, Michael wanted to date me, but I kept turning him down. I didn’t trust him back then.”

  “Do you trust him now?” Lana asked, coming to help with the cloths.

  Carrie laughed. “I guess I do in some things, but he’s too popular with women to be an easy man to be involved with in a serious relationship.”

  “They’re usually the best kind of guy though, right? There’s usually a good reason they’re so popular,” Lana said, teasing.

  Carrie nodded. “Yes. I guess that can be true. In Michael’s case, I didn’t have to look far to find his appeal.”

  Carrie looked at the laughing woman and couldn’t stop herself from asking what she wanted to know. John had planted seeds of doubt, but she was determined not to let them take root and grow. If she was being biased to clients, Carrie decided, she needed to know so she could correct the situation.

  “Can I ask you a question, Lana? I need you to be honest.”

  Lana frowned. “Sure—I guess. What do you want to know?”