Risking It All

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Risking It All Page 28

by Christi Barth


  “My pleasure.” He thought fast. Because he sure as hell wasn’t letting this one slip away. Knox pulled her out of the flow of pedestrians behind a big stone planter. “You probably don’t want to spend your first night on the sidewalk either. How about I buy you a drink? I guarantee it’ll come with the best view in town.”

  “I notice you’re not guaranteeing a good time.”

  “Why state the obvious?”

  She gave him an up-and-down once-over. Took in the mint-green pocket square that matched his shirt, white pants, and two-tone oxfords. “Snazzy duds don’t prove anything. You could have a personal shopper. Or raided your roommate’s closet.”

  Knox barely suppressed a shudder. Griff’s closet mostly held his Coast Guard uniforms. Riley’s was as boring and buttoned-up as the NTSB windbreakers he wore everywhere. Josh’s was a flat-out mess. And Logan’s was mostly empty, since he traveled the world six months out of seven. “I’d never borrow anything from my roommates. Trust me.”

  “Still, it is my first night here. Kind of a big deal. I want it to be memorable. How do I know you’re the man for the job?”

  This wasn’t just flirting. It was a challenge, flung at his feet. And the days when Knox Davies backed down from a challenge were long gone. They’d ended during their ordeal in the Alps, ten years ago.

  Only way to handle a throw-down was to throw back something bigger and better. So he went with his gut. Slid his fingers through that mass of silky goodness and tilted her head. With everything lined up, Knox took her mouth. Not too hard. He didn’t want to scare her. Not too soft either, because he still wanted to make an impression.

  This wasn’t a nice-to-meet-ya kiss. Her challenge forced him to skip right past that step. He dialed this kiss right up to you know you like this, so I’m giving it to you. A tease of the tongue along the crease of her lips. Just enough to make Madison want him inside of her.

  It did, too. Because Madison planted her hands on his back to pull him in closer. Not a problem. Glad to know they were on the same page. Knox slid an arm around the waist that already felt familiar to him and gave a semi-forceful yank. Not hard enough to give his balls whiplash or anything. Just…passionate. This woman amped up his passion faster than he’d expected.

  With the June sun beating down, their skin was already sticking together. Sticky. Sweaty. Just like they’d be if they were in bed, all over each other. Her warm, soft curves pressed against him. A little hum of appreciation vibrated out of her throat. Her lips parted. Knox didn’t need to engage his genius IQ to figure out that was an invitation.

  He swooped in, his tongue licking around every inch of her sweetness. Madison gave back just as much. Tangling with him. Teasing him. Dancing a sultry dance with her tongue that gave him so damn many ideas about what she’d be like in bed, his dick went straight from zero to let’s do this thing.

  One of her hands slid down to cup his ass. Gave it a little squeeze that told Knox she was every bit as turned on as he was. It’d be so easy to back her up a few more steps. Press her against the wall. Then he could lift her up and grind his hips in a slow circle that’d spiral them both into—

  A dog humped his shin. No mistaking that feeling. Knox opened his eyes to find some matted rug with eyes using him like a by-the-minute hooker. Its leash was attached to an older woman with a squint of disapproval aimed at him down her pug nose.

  “There’s a hotel right behind you,” she said pointedly.

  “Sorry, I’m not available to keep your dog entertained. I’ve already got my hands full.” That sent her off with a harrumph and a tug on the leash so hard that the dog yelped.

  Madison broke into a belly laugh. A full-blown, doubled-over, not-caring-who-saw guffaw. The contagious kind. So much so that Knox doubled over, too. They both wheezed to a stop once they couldn’t catch their breath.

  Knox slapped his serious face back on. Pointing at the retreating duo, he said, “She was clearly jealous.”

  “Of me or the dog?” Madison barely got the words out before bursting into more giggles. “Maybe I should ask what sort of reputation you’ve got in this town.”

  Uh, no. Knox treated women respectfully. He didn’t talk about them, any of them, who passed through his arms and his bedposts. Except to his roommates. But the local press liked to bring up Knox’s womanizing ways as often as possible. His reputation was something he tried to ignore. Tried to get women to ignore, more to the point.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Knox declared. “We’re starting with a fresh slate. We don’t know anything about each other besides our names. Let’s not muck it up with what other people think.”

  Damn it. He might as well have used a Scottish brogue and dressed up as Lady Macbeth. Talk about protesting too much. Probably put her way on edge about what he must be hiding. Knox was off his game. But he’d been in the hotel doing an interview. An interview supposedly highlighting his company. Which was the only reason he’d let his PR manager badger him into it.

  Instead, the relentless reporter had dogged him about dating more women in D.C. than all the players on the Redskins and Nats put together. Then the reporter went after his roommates, shoveling for more shit. Generally dug for gossip and innuendo and ignored the real facts and reason for the interview. It left a sour taste in Knox’s mouth.

  Madison straightened up. “You’re wrong. I do know something about you.”

  Great. Was there a bus going by with his face on the side of it? “Yeah?”

  She thumbed gently along the bottom of his lip, probably wiping off lipstick she’d left behind. “You’re a phenomenal kisser.”

  The beautiful Amazon wasn’t just flirting. She might as well throw a lasso around his neck and hog-tie him. Subtle? Nope. Just his speed? Yep. With a smile that he knew was one hundred percent smug, Knox shrugged one shoulder. “Well, yeah. That much is pretty common knowledge.”

  “Then how about you buy me a drink, and tell me something that isn’t common knowledge?”

  With one hand at the small of her back—and a finger’s width away from slipping south enough to brush the curve of her ass—Knox guided her into the lobby. “I’m an open book.”

  Madison snorted. “No male of the species fits that definition. You all are closed up tighter than a marmot den in winter.”

  “Seen many of those, have you?” Geez, what did she do for a living? Vet? Zookeeper?

  “Of course. They build them on exposed ridges, so…” Her voice trailed off onto an extended ohhhh that lasted until she ran out of breath.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’ve never been anywhere so beautiful in my entire life.” Madison planted both sneakered feet, even though they were still in the flow of traffic between the door and check-in, and stared. Goggled. Her eyes all but bugged out of her head like in a cartoon. First her head swung up to take in the crystal chandeliers. Down to the intricate, black-and-white design of the carpet. Over to the red patent leather of the sofa that stood out from the lineup of black chairs and zebra-striped ottomans.

  The W was historic and over-the-top, but Knox wouldn’t call it the most beautiful hotel ever. Knox preferred the Federalist grandeur of The Homestead resort right down the road in West Virginia. Or the knock-your-socks-off view from the thirty-eighth-floor lobby of the Mandarin Oriental in Tokyo. The Palm Dubai with its three-story-tall blue Chihuly glass sculpture. He could stare at the glass that curled like individual waves into a geyser of floating fire at the top for hours.

  With the tip of one finger, he gently shut her jaw. “Madison, people are staring.”

  “Of course they are.” Her head snapped to the side again, whipping the long blond hair into a halo effect that mesmerized Knox with its golden sheen. God, he wanted to feel that draped across his naked chest. “This place is amazing.”

  “No, Madison. I mean they’re staring at you.” This time when he pushed on her back she actually moved her feet. Didn’t stop her from peeking back over her shoulder no less than fou
r times before they hit the elevator. “I don’t usually lead with the obvious, but I’ve gotta ask—where are you from?”

  The doors slid shut. Those tawny eyes slid sideways, as if trying to pre-gauge his reaction. Looked over at the two guys—in cheap suits and crazy hair that labeled them as part of the flock of D.C. summer interns—giving her a slack-jawed once-over. Yeah, Madison was at least five years too old and five hundred percent too much woman for them. Which yet again landed her at the top of Knox’s must-do list.

  Then Madison squared her shoulders. Lifted her chin. “I’m from the great state of Alaska. The Alaskan bush, to be precise. Remote. Isolated. As far from civilization as you can get.”

  Well, that explained a lot.

  It also intrigued him. Knox kept two maps on his phone at all times—world and United States. He liked to shade in home states and countries of every hookup. The total stood at nineteen countries (despite the fact Riley insisted he should count England and Scotland for just one as the United Kingdom—Ry was such a damn stickler). And he needed only four states to complete the U.S. stats. Alaska was one of those missing four.

  Knox elbowed back her giant bag to intertwine their fingers. He’d learned layering verbal and physical foreplay got women into bed quicker. Increased the attraction on both sides. Like a package that wrapped up Wi-Fi, phone, and cable. The more that got offered, the more that got taken.

  “You didn’t just hike out of the bush yesterday, right? You’ve been in a city before?”

  That netted him an eye roll. “Of course. I did my undergrad at the University of Alaska in Fairbanks.”

  “Nobody says undergrad unless they’ve got an advanced degree, too.” That bumped up his interest still another notch.

  Knox appreciated all women. He had yet to find a single one, no matter her age or relative standing on the hotness scale, who didn’t have something remarkable going for her. A laugh smokier than twenty-year-old whiskey. Eyes that sparkled like the Chesapeake Bay in the morning. A sense of humor, or a great pair of legs, or the ability to bake a killer sweet roll.

  But smart women? They hardened his dick twice as fast. Knox enjoyed the seduction. He wasn’t big on letting women stick around after the main event. Smarties, though, were another story. A woman whose eyes didn’t glaze over when he described his job didn’t just get pancakes the morning after—she earned a second date.

  As the doors opened, Madison gave him a hip bump. “Well, aren’t you just Sherlock Holmes-ing this whole evening?”

  “I simply recognize people who suffered in the trenches of grad school. We share that traumatized wince at the mention of college that says we still haven’t caught up from the all-nighters.”

  Knox knew exactly when she registered the view. This time she didn’t stop and gawk. But her knees bobbled and her breath caught. To her credit, it didn’t just happen to tourists. The balcony on the eleventh-floor bar of the W Hotel opened up practically on top of the White House. Front and center speared the Washington Monument, practically a third guest at every table.

  “I’m definitely going to need that drink you promised me. My mouth’s gone dry,” she murmured.

  “I can fix that without waiting for a drink.” Knox never, ever passed up an opportunity as obvious as this one. He bracketed her chin with his thumb and forefinger. Tilted her head up. Covered her mouth in a kiss that surprised even him with its passion. Must’ve been that talk about graduate degrees that got his engine revving hot. Or the enthusiasm she matched him for, stepping in even closer and gripping his forearm.

  “Hey.” The exclamation broke him out of the lip-lock as much as the tug on the short hair at the back of his neck. Their friend Annabeth frowned at him. Tightened her already severe black ponytail. Then she shot a thumb back toward the elevator. “There are three hundred and seventeen rooms and suites spread over these eleven floors. Go take your sexifying into one of them.”

  Madison didn’t appear the least bit embarrassed by the interruption. She wiped at the smear of lipstick on her chin while she aimed an amused look at Annabeth. “You know, you’re the second person to tell us that in the last ten minutes.”

  Nice, the way Madison rolled with the punches. And Knox always enjoyed watching someone stand up to Annabeth. The waitress was tough. A smart-ass. Which was why he and his friends adored her. Annabeth didn’t just serve them drinks. She dished out gossip on who was newly available and advice on what women wanted, and she laughed at their dirty jokes. They didn’t come for the drinks, or the view. They came to hang with Annabeth. And out of respect for that friendship, none of the five of them had ever hit on her. One of the hardest things Knox had ever done…or not done.

  “Maybe the universe is sending you two a message,” Annabeth snarked with a sneer curling her upper lip. But she gave Madison an assessing up-and-down, obviously impressed by the other woman’s spine.

  Knox usually let Annabeth hassle him. Actually, he didn’t usually bring women here at all. Too obvious. Too touristy. Plus, he didn’t like taking his hookups to any of the spots that mattered to the ACSs. Already things with Madison were off the rails. Weirdly enough, he didn’t mind. So he shut down Annabeth’s sure-to-be-endless nit-picking with a gentle tweak of the apron strings at her waist.

  “If I follow through on that so-called message, you don’t get a tip. This is Madison’s first night in D.C. I planned to order her the good stuff—the expensive stuff—in celebration.”

  “In that case, I’m Annabeth and I’ll be your server tonight. Please follow me to your table.” She gave a flounce as she spun on her high black heels. Apparently couldn’t resist a parting shot. As Annabeth led them through the crowded room to the balcony and a table right on the edge, she said, “Pervert.”

  No point denying it. “You know you love me for it.”

  “That’s not it at all. I’m endlessly entertained by the notion that women fall for your Casanova shtick.”

  In a stage whisper, Knox said, “In case you weren’t clear, I’m on a date. Right now.”

  Madison fluttered her hand between them. “It doesn’t bother me. Technically, I haven’t fallen for your shtick. I fell for the obvious and impressive muscles you used to keep me on the sidewalk. The kick-ass way you kiss. Plus, the sheer amount of words you spit out per sentence.”

  “I don’t talk that much,” he protested. Knox settled her into the U-shaped black-and-white striped chair.

  “Compared to men in Alaska?” She snorted. Pointed across the table as he sat down. “You talk more than a teenager hopped up on soft drinks and candy.”

  Knox filed that away to tell Logan. See if in all his globe-trotting he’d ever stopped in the forty-ninth state. Because Logan doled out words as stingily as life jackets on the Titanic. He’d fit right in up there.

  Annabeth caught Madison’s wrist. Turned it left and right. “I love that bracelet. The contrast between the turquoise and the silver really makes it pop.”

  “Thanks.” She peeled it off her wrist. “Here, you should take it.”

  A bark of disbelief made heads turn from the red couches along the wall. Annabeth crinkled her nose. Gave Knox a sideways where-did-you-find-this-one? look. “I can’t take your bracelet.”

  “Sure you can. I made it, I can give it away.”

  “No way.”

  As Annabeth snatched it to examine the workmanship closely, Knox echoed her words in his head. The only thing he knew about jewelry was that women preferred the expensive variety. But he never would’ve guessed the bauble was homemade. Or that the beautiful ultra-tourist was so talented. Not to mention apparently generous to a fault. He revised the plan for just drinks to add in dinner, too. He needed to discover all the other facets to the fascinating Madison.

  “Truly not that hard. Just some sapphire shell beads on a leather cord with a silver floral button. I can whip one of these out in less time than it takes to make a cranberry apple pie.”

  Knox leaned across the table to cover her
mouth with his palm. “Stop. You have to stop. I can’t take another amazing revelation. The fact that you bake is almost enough to make my pants spontaneously combust with excitement.”

  Madison turned to Annabeth conspiratorially. “See? Other guys would’ve just said cookies turn them on. This one turned it into more words than some marriage proposals.” She whipped her head back to Knox. “You’re kind of adorable.”

  “In that case, we’ll take a bottle of the Veuve Clicquot, La Grande Dame.” Knox checked his watch, guessed when she would’ve eaten lunch, if at all, and decided to add some food. A passed-out date was no fun at all. “And a charcuterie and cheese board.”

  “Back in a jif. Welcome to D.C., Madison.” Just as Annabeth started to walk away, Madison slid the bracelet into her apron pocket. Annabeth didn’t notice the covert move, but Knox sure did.

  “Why’d you give her that?”

  A slow smile curved up the corner of her wide lips. “Why not?”

  He held up a hand to tick the points off on his fingers. “You don’t know her at all. You incurred costs purchasing the inventory. The labor took time, not to mention the mental labor coming up with the design.”

  Mimicking him, Madison held up her own hand. “She thought it was pretty. It made her happy. I got to be happy making it. She’ll enjoy wearing it, and I can make another.”

  “But you just lost money.”

  “Gained happiness. Funny how much better that makes me feel than twenty dollars in my pocket.”

  “You’re not just from out of town. You’re from a whole different time and culture. One where entire towns come together to raise a barn.” Knox rested his forearms on the table. “Tell me the truth. Did you fly here or use a time machine?”

  The smile in her eyes dimmed. “People aren’t nice in D.C.?”

  Might as well rip that bandage off, fast and clean. “No. Not as a rule. Everybody wants something. Politics, money, influence—that’s what turns the wheels of this town.”

 

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