A Risky Affair

by Maureen Smith

  “Wise people.”

  “That, and they knew he’d do whatever he wanted, anyway. My father has always marched to the beat of his own drum.”

  “Something tells me the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree,” Solange said teasingly.

  Dane’s lips curved in a slow grin. “Let’s keep that our little secret. How’s your food?”

  “Excellent.” She picked up her drink and took a long, appreciative sip. As she set down the glass, she smiled at him. “You’re batting three for three. The margarita’s just as good as you said it would be. I’m beginning to think I can trust you with other things. What do you know about stocks and bonds?”

  Dane laughed, forking up a bite of lobster. “If you really want to know about investments, you should talk to my cousin Daniela. She used to be an accountant and the bookkeeper for Roarke Investigations, and at one time or another she also did some freelancing as a financial advisor. She really knows her stuff.”

  Solange nodded, smiling. “A woman of many talents. Isn’t she also the one who redecorated the guest wing at the ranch?”

  “Yep. That’s her.”

  “Does she still work at the detective agency?”

  Dane shook his head. “She graduated from law school in May and, up until a week ago when she went on maternity leave, she’d been working as a junior associate at Crandall’s law firm, trying to gain some litigation experience. She and her husband, Caleb, plan to open a family-law practice within the next three years, when the baby’s a little older.”

  “Really?” Solange brightened. “Maybe when I finish law school, they’d consider hiring me.”

  Dane eyed her speculatively over the rim of his glass. “You interested in practicing law?”

  She nodded vigorously. “I’ve always wanted to, but there never seemed to be a right time to apply for law school, and before my parents passed away, I’d never seriously considered leaving Haskell. Money was also a factor. As you know, law school can be pretty expensive.”

  He frowned. “You worked for a law firm. Didn’t they offer tuition reimbursement?”

  “Unfortunately, no. And, again, I would’ve had to leave home to attend law school, which wasn’t really an option for me. Not with my parents getting on in years and needing my help more and more around the farm.” She paused to watch as a river taxi full of passengers floated by, leaving gentle ripples in the murky water. “You know, three months before they died, my mother made me promise her that I wouldn’t get stuck in Haskell for the rest of my life, that I’d travel and see the world and follow my dreams wherever they took me. It was so unexpected—she’d never said anything like that to me before. And yet I didn’t remember it until after I’d arrived in San Antonio, when I was having serious doubts about my decision to leave home, and her voice came back to me with those words.” Turning her head, she smiled faintly at Dane. “Isn’t it funny how the mind works, suppressing certain memories until just the right time?”

  He was watching her with a quiet smile of understanding. “I think it’s a gift from God.”

  “Oh, it was. Most definitely.” With a long, deep sigh, she swept an appreciative glance around. “And speaking of gifts, the Riverwalk is a dream. I love it here.”

  “It’s pretty at night, too. Especially during the holiday season when they put up the big tree at the Alamo. You should come back one of these nights to see the whole place lit up with all the Christmas lights.”

  “It sounds pretty amazing,” Solange said, adding ruefully, “I don’t know when I’ll have another chance to get back down here, though. I think Mr. Thorne is going to keep me too busy for sightseeing.”

  “In that case,” Dane drawled, his eyes glinting with amusement and something else—something that should have set off a warning bell in her head, “we’d better make the most of your time here today.”

  Chapter 14

  Over the next hour, they laughed and talked about anything and everything, surprised to discover how much they had in common—from favorite mystery novels to their least favorite movies, to their views on religion, war and politics. Dane regaled Solange with hilarious anecdotes of hanging out at the Riverwalk with his older brother and cousins as they tried unsuccessfully to pick up girls; she, in turn, shared stories about growing up in a rural community where the highlight of many teenagers’ lives was going cow-tipping in the dead of night, which, to her everlasting shame, was not just an urban legend perpetuated by city slickers. Dane laughed so hard tears rolled from the corners of his eyes.

  Even after their lunch plates and empty glasses had been cleared away, they lingered, polishing off the chips and guacamole as a way of prolonging not only the meal, but their time together.

  When they finally left the restaurant, they strolled along the bank, walking so close together the sides of their legs brushed. Instead of heading straight to the garage where they were both parked, they made a detour, slipping inside a tiny candy shop filled with the delicious aromas of chocolate-covered confections. Ignoring her protests, Dane bought Solange half a pound of Belgian fudge, which she laughingly promised to share with Rita, a fellow chocoholic.

  As they left the shop, Solange was already unwrapping and sampling the decadently rich fudge. “Oh my God,” she breathed, slowing to a stop.

  Dane chuckled softly. “That good, huh?”

  She nodded, turning to him. “You have to try this.”

  He leaned down to accept the sweet offering from her hand. As his warm, silken mouth closed around her fingertips, heat pooled between her legs. A soft, startled gasp escaped her lips.

  Her heart thundered at the very male look that filled his eyes as their gazes locked. Slowly he ran his tongue over her fingers, gently, deliberately sucking the chocolate into his mouth. She shivered uncontrollably, her breasts swelling against the lace confines of her bra.

  All too soon he pulled away. “You’re right,” he murmured silkily. “That is good.”

  Ensnared by the smoldering heat of his gaze, Solange drew her fingers into her own mouth and tasted him, watching his nostrils flare and his eyes turn molten with desire.

  “Solange.” Her name emerged as a low, husky growl.

  She felt flushed and wanton, unbearably tempted to surrender to him, to give him anything he asked of her.

  Her breath caught sharply as he lowered his head, slanting his sensuous mouth over hers. Her lips parted on a soundless moan. But instead of kissing her, he let their breath mingle warmly, provocatively. Heightening her arousal.

  What happened next was a heady blur.

  One minute they were standing in the middle of the busy sidewalk outside the candy shop; the next thing she knew, they were checking into a room at the nearest hotel along the river. Dane didn’t so much as bat an eye at the steep one-night room rate he was quoted, handing the desk clerk a credit card without averting his hungry, possessive gaze from Solange.

  The elevator doors had barely slid closed behind them before he pulled her into his arms and seized her mouth in a fierce, ravenous kiss that made her moan and cling to him as if her very life depended upon it. She was beyond the point of no return. She didn’t care that what they were doing was pure insanity, and something she would probably regret later. All that mattered was that she needed him, wanted him like nothing and no one she’d ever wanted before. And she intended to have him.

  When they reached the seventh-floor room, Dane kicked the door shut and hauled her against him with rough urgency. Their voracious mouths fused together, tongues frantically mating. They tore at each other’s clothing with desperate hands, ripping off suit jackets and yanking at shirt buttons with reckless disregard. Solange quickly stepped out of her pumps and reached beneath her skirt, grasping her panties and the waistband of her panty hose and dragging both down the length of her legs. Dane paused in the middle of unbuckling his belt to watch her with hot, glittering eyes. She could see the thick bulge of his erection outlined against his pants, and it made her grow e
ven wetter than she already was. When she reached out to touch him, however, he captured her wrist and shook his head once.

  “Later,” he growled, low and savage. “I’m too hungry right now.”

  Her belly quivered with arousal. Her heart beat a wild tattoo in her chest.

  Too impatient to bother removing her snug skirt, Dane wrenched it up over her thighs, then lifted her into his arms and carried her over to the antique cherry dresser. He deposited her on the edge of the cool, smooth surface, which was the perfect height—not too high and not too low.

  She leaned back on her elbows and watched in breathless anticipation as he unzipped his pants and quickly sheathed his long, thick erection with a condom he’d removed from his wallet. He shoved her thighs wide apart and stepped between them, lifting and wrapping her quivering legs around his hips. He positioned the blunt tip of his shaft at the sensitized entrance to her body, nudging it against the slick, swollen folds until she had to bite down on her lip to hold back a scream of pleasure.

  His dark, searing gaze locked with hers as he gripped her buttocks and drove himself inside her, hard and deep. She cried out sharply and arched her back, clutching his big, muscled shoulders for balance.

  He withdrew and thrust again with a harsh, tortured groan. “I knew you’d feel this way,” he whispered raggedly. “Like honey and silk.”

  They rocked and glided together, sighing and moaning with the consuming pleasure of each deep, penetrating thrust. Dane wound his hand through the heavy strands of her hair, tilting her face back and staring into her eyes with an expression of such fierce possession tears stung her eyelids. As she watched, he lowered his head and claimed her mouth in a rough, devouring kiss that left her head spinning.

  Closing her eyes, she skated her open mouth along his jaw and tightened her legs around his hips and buttocks, urging him deeper inside. He shouted hoarsely as he lifted her from the dresser and drove into her. His slamming thrusts made her cry out in ecstasy. Every part of her welcomed the erotic invasion of his body. She loved the wet, slapping sounds of contact and the marvelous friction of their coupling.

  As an exquisite pressure built inside her, she opened her eyes and stared into his dark, sensual face. She dug her nails into his back and sobbed his name as her body convulsed in the grip of the most powerful orgasm she’d ever experienced. The spasms were so intense she thought she would pass out.

  A moment later Dane stiffened and exploded inside her with a loud, exultant groan.

  They remained joined for several minutes, his face buried against the curve of her neck, her legs locked around his waist as his thick penis throbbed inside her. She could have stayed like that forever.

  At length he set her back onto the dresser and kissed her closed eyelids before raising his head and gazing down at her.

  “That definitely took the edge off,” he murmured huskily. “What do you say we move to the bed and take this to the next level?”

  Solange clung to Dane as he carried her over to the king-size bed, which was draped in satin, and set her down on her feet. She stared down at him, her dark eyes at half-mast, her luscious lips parted and trembling. Her tousled chestnut-brown hair was backlit by a beam of afternoon sunlight that slanted through an opening in the drawn curtains. She looked like an angel. A seductive, exotically beautiful angel.

  Without releasing her gaze, Dane finished undressing himself, removing his pants, underwear, socks and shoes. Her breath quickened audibly as he stood before her, naked and fully aroused. The way her eyes devoured him made him so hard he ached to lay her down and bury himself deep inside her. But he had to go slow this time, pace himself, savor every moment of their lovemaking like it would be their last—because it probably would.

  Stepping to the bed again, he reached around her waist and slowly unzipped her skirt, sliding the fabric over the gentle swell of her hips and down her long, curvy legs. His erection throbbed painfully as he stared at the neat triangle of soft dark curls that hid her sex. He eased her legs gently apart and slid his hand upward, his fingertips skimming the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. Her whole body shook.

  “Dane…” she whimpered helplessly.

  “Shhh. Let me look at you. You are so damn beautiful.”

  He could see every detail of her, the way a few golden strands of hair blended with the darker brown, the shadowy cleft of her labia. As she watched, he reached between her silky thighs and cupped her mound. She let out a startled cry. He brushed the pad of his thumb against the slick nub of her clitoris, tracing lazy, sensual circles that made her groan and writhe against him. Her intoxicating scent filled his nostrils, soap and a trace of the exotic perfume she wore mingled with the heady musk of their lovemaking.

  With his other hand, he grasped her buttocks and tilted her pelvis closer. His gaze locked with hers as he parted her tender folds and pressed his mouth to her hot, moist sex. She moaned at the erotically intimate kiss, clinging to his shoulders for support. A jolt of pure, driving need swept through his body. Cupping her bottom with both hands, he stroked his tongue back and forth across her plump feminine lips. She was salty-sweet, slippery and delicious, and he couldn’t get enough of her.

  He feasted on her until her cries grew more frenzied, her breath coming in rapid, shallow gasps. When her thighs began to quake uncontrollably against his hands, he thrust his tongue inside her one last time, making her scream his name as she came in a violent rush. As her knees buckled, he banded his arms around her waist and held her upright, his heart slamming against his ribcage, his penis throbbing for release. He pressed his face against her soft belly and closed his eyes, fighting for control.

  When her body had stopped trembling and her breathing quieted, he drew away and looked up at her. “Lie down,” he huskily commanded.

  As she moved to comply, he turned away, removing the used condom and replacing it with a fresh one.

  When he turned back to the bed, he found Solange lying on her side with her head propped in her hand, her lustrous hair spilling over one shoulder as she watched him with a look of sultry invitation. It was enough to make him salivate.

  “There’s just one more thing between us,” she said coyly. And then she reached down and unclasped the front hook of her bra.

  Dane stared, transfixed, as the most beautiful pair of breasts he had ever seen spilled from the scrap of black lace—firm, perfectly round, with nipples the color of melted chocolate.

  With a rough, inarticulate sound, he practically dove into the bed and stretched out alongside her. She gave a breathless little laugh as he ran his hands greedily over the deep indentation of her waist and her ribs, before cupping her breasts in his hands. He pressed them together and rubbed his face against them in masculine appreciation. They spilled from his palms—warm, soft and luscious. Heat sizzled through his veins.

  With his eyes trained on hers, he bent to draw one erect nipple into his mouth. Her breath hitched sharply, and she closed her eyes on a soft cry. His tongue circled her nipple while he played with the other one, teasing and stroking it into a tight little point. Switching his mouth to her other breast, he pressed the burning length of his shaft against her soft belly. She reached down and wrapped her warm fingers around him, making him groan hoarsely in pleasure.

  In a blur of movement, she sat up quickly and knelt at his side. Holding his gaze, she took him deep into her mouth, latex and all, and he sucked in a sharp, ragged breath. She wasn’t shy or hesitant, rolling off the condom so she could lick and tease his bare flesh. Lust clawed through him. He rocked his hips and thrust upward into the hot, silken cave of her mouth until he thought he’d explode.

  Deciding he’d exercised more than enough restraint for one afternoon, Dane pulled away and rolled her over, onto her stomach. With unsteady hands, he retrieved the condom and smoothed it back into place. As Solange rose on all fours, he cupped the lush roundness of her buttocks, his fingertips probing the hot, moist crevice between her thighs. Her legs parted eager
ly as he positioned himself behind her. With one long, penetrating stroke he filled her.

  Solange moaned loudly and arched against him, clutching fistfuls of the satin bed linens. Grasping the sides of her waist, Dane thrust high and deep inside her, and her moans grew louder as she gyrated her hips to the beat of his strokes. He plunged harder and faster, the tight, slick clasp of her body sweeping away the last vestiges of his self-control. He wound a fistful of her hair around his hand and pulled back her head, slanting his mouth over hers in a hard, plundering kiss.

  A moment later, she cried out as her body clenched around his penis in pulsing contractions, wrenching an orgasm from him that tore through his body with brutal force.

  Shuddering and breathing hard, he kissed the sweat-dampened hair at the nape of her neck, then gathered her into his arms and drew them both down onto the bed. With a deep, languorous sigh, Solange snuggled against him for a few moments, then suddenly froze.

  Dane groaned in protest as she bolted upright, then launched herself from the bed. “I have to go! Mr. Thorne will be expecting me there when he gets back!”

  Dane sat up slowly, propped his weight on his elbows and watched in amusement as she scrambled around the room, gathering her discarded articles of clothing.

  “We’ve got this incredible room for one whole night,” he reminded her. “We could have an early dinner, take a romantic stroll along the Riverwalk, then come back here and have each other for dessert. What do you say, Angel Eyes?”

  Solange whirled around so fast her breasts bounced enticingly. The look she leveled at him would have shamed a lesser man. “This isn’t funny, Dane. I really have to go.”

  Scowling, he fell back against the pillows and heaved a deep, resigned sigh. “All right.”

  After another prolonged moment, he swung his long legs over the side of the bed and stood. “I’ll walk you back to your car. But don’t blame me when you’re tucking your sweet little grandchildren into bed one day, and they look up at you with wide, innocent eyes and ask you why you never took the time to see the Riverwalk lit up at Christmastime like a Norman Rockwell painting.”