by Lucy Monroe
The airy hotel lobby was starting to grow busy now that the hours for siesta were past. He saw more than one person do a double-take when they spied him walking with Amber. He sighed. There was no hope of keeping his relationship with her a complete secret, not in his hometown. But he had already instructed his company and anyone who had worked with Amber since she came to Spain to remain mute on her identity when the inevitable queries began to arise.
His family strictly enforced the policy that any employee who thought a bribe was worth betraying a Menendez’s privacy to the media would be looking for another job the minute the perfidy was discovered. Subsequently the press leaks from within the conglomeration were extremely rare and his family enjoyed a deeper level of privacy than most in their social and economic position.
He guided Amber into the elevator, shielding her body with his own from curious eyes. “It is inevitable that photos of us will make it into the scandal rags, but I have taken steps to protect your privacy.”
“Thank you.”
“You do not want the free publicity?”
She shook her head decisively. “I am no more interested in seeing my date as a trophy on my arm than I am in being one myself.”
“I approve your stance.”
She grinned at him. “Thanks. Are you often considered a trophy?”
“I tend to avoid certain relationships and therefore the possibility, but sometimes the exchange is worth it.”
“Sex for temporary access to your wealth and position?”
“As long as they understand it is temporary, it works.”
“That’s very cold.”
“I do not see it that way.”
“It makes the women you share your bed with little more than paid companions.”
“What a subtle turn of phrase, but the choice to trade on sexual compatibility is theirs not mine. I do not make them anything.”
“But your attitude encourages it.”
“I assure you, a woman must convince me it is worth my time to be used as her temporary ticket into a certain lifestyle.”
“But you let yourself be convinced.”
“Yes.” There was no use denying it. Not that he wanted to. His life was what it was. He had accepted that long ago. “We have already decided that such an exchange is not the driving force behind what is happening between us, have we not?”
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. He guided her out into the hall, keeping his hand on her arm.
She slid a sideways look at him, biting her lip in that endearing way again. “I’m not sure how I feel about being with a man who admits to having relationships of that sort even if he wants me to believe ours won’t follow the same pattern.”
“First, we have both acknowledged we are not looking for a trophy, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Second, would you prefer I pretend to be someone different?”
“No, I just…”
“Accept that I left naive idealism behind in the nursery.”
She stopped in front of a door and pulled her key card out. “I do not consider respect for my sex naive.”
“I respect women.”
She pushed the door open and stepped inside. “Really?”
He followed her, pushing the door closed behind him. “Yes. I respect women enough to believe they are capable of deciding what sort of relationship is best for them.”
CHAPTER THREE
HE SHRUGGEDout of his jacket and laid it over the back of one of two armchairs on either side of a small, low table. The suite wasn’t as spacious as his usual accommodations, but it was modern and decently decorated. And it was a true suite with a door between the bedroom and the tiny living area. He would expect no less from his company.
She had stopped at the door leading to the bedroom, and stood there appearing somewhat agitated. “I could never settle for something so cold.”
“I accept that.”
“So, what do you expect the exchange between us to be?”
“I want you. You want me. It is entirely mutual.” In his mind, it needed no further definition.
“And not mercenary.”
“In no way mercenary. On either side. I want you for more than arm ornamentation.” Though some might call his dead-on rush at her knowing the relationship could only last a matter of weeks mercenary, he did not consider it that way. Relationships never lasted longer than that for him and he had done nothing to encourage her to expect anything different.
In fact, he had emphasized the temporary nature of his previous affairs and while she had not liked his blunt view of them, she had not argued that aspect to them.
“And I am not looking to spend your money or for you to advance my career.”
“See? Nothing cold about it.” He had caught on rather quickly that was important to the aqua-eyed beauty before him.
“Definitely not cold.” She smiled.
And he had to stifle a growl of desire. Scorching heat was a better description of what was between them.
A growing erection pressed against his tailored slacks while his hands itched to touch her silky, golden skin.Want was a tame word for the feelings crashing through him. Hecraved that too kissable mouth, hungered for it like a man starved. Heneeded to taste her delectable lips…and everywhere else.
He did not like this needing. He had to get her to bed soon to gain control of the wayward feeling. He did not respond this way to women. Ever. It took more than physical beauty to draw him. Yet he could hardly claim to know Amber as well as he usually did a woman he wanted to bed. Though each moment spent in her company revealed an intelligence and charm that increased the aching desire in his sex. And there was no denying that he wanted to bed her. Very soon. Over and over again.
She put her hand on the doorknob. “I’m going to go take my shower.”
“I will catch up on phone calls while you are getting ready. Do not rush yourself.”
She smiled and nodded.
He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the investigator to see if he had anything more and refused to question why he would do so when he had other more pressing calls to make.
Miguel was talking to an associate in China when Amber walked out of the bedroom. Several years of training not to show emotion during business negotiations were all that prevented him from embarrassing himself.
“You look breathtaking,” he mouthed while the Chinese businessman on the other end of his phone call rattled off statistics none the wiser.
Her golden highlighted hair hung down like a curtain of spun silk framing her exquisitely shaped face. She’d donned another dress, but this one was the same color as her eyes and clung lovingly to her slim curves, accentuating both how very tiny she was for her height and how deeply feminine.
Her feet were encased in delicate gold sandals that added a good three inches to her height. She’d been wearing flats earlier. It pleased him that she’d dressed up for him.
Her jewelry looked like it had been designed by Aztecs. It was an interesting choice and spoke of a woman not afraid to draw attention to herself. Which made perfect sense considering the profession she was in, but he still liked the evidence of her confidence.
He’d never found timidity attractive, not like some of the other men in his family who seemed to thrive on the different kind of chase. Give him a lioness over a kitten anyday.
Enchantingly, Amber blushed. “Thank you,” she mouthed back.
He nodded, not taking his eyes off of her though he did manage to return part of his brain to the business discussion. A very small part.
Amber crossed to the mini bar and poured herself a glass of bottled water. She turned to him, lifting her brow in question.
He shook his head. He’d already raided the drinks fridge and finished off a bottle of water and a small Coke while making his phone calls.
She drank her water while he talked to the other man, seemingly indifferent to the fact that he was otherwise occupied. He liked tha
t, too.
Most women he’d dated were impatient with his need to conduct business at odd hours and sometimes inopportune moments. He finished up the call and then flipped his phone shut. “Thank you for your patience.”
“No problem.” She smiled. “I’m glad you weren’t in here pacing the room waiting for me to finish getting ready.”
He packed the papers back into the briefcase he’d brought from his car. “By rights, I should have left you and returned later for dinner.”
“But you didn’t want to leave.” She moved to lean against the arm of the chair opposite the one he was sitting in.
“No.”
“This feels strange to me.”
“Ditto.”
She smiled wryly. “I figured. I wasn’t expecting to meet someone like you when I was here. I thought it would just be another job.”
“I do not think you can ever be prepared for the kind of attraction we feel.”
Her aquamarine eyes flared briefly with something that looked like relief. “No, I’m sure you can’t.”
He stood, moving closer to her and reached down to cup her shoulder. “I like the way you make me feel.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a man who likes being out of control.”
“I am not out of control.” But her words pricked his conscience. He hadn’t liked realizing what he felt for her bordered on need rather than desire.
“Aren’t you?”
“No.” He was not quite to that point.
“Did you intend to spend the day overseeing the shoot?” she asked innocently, but he knew what she was getting at.
He grimaced in wry acknowledgment of the hit. “No.”
“And you’ve already admitted you should have gone back to your office rather than staying here with me.”
“Your point?” But he knew what it was, onlyshe wasn’t looking at the whole picture.
“Call me crazy, but that doesn’t sound like the actions of a man completely in control.”
That was where she was wrong. He had been in control because the choices had been his. “I saw you. It was like being hit by a bullet train. I decided to pursue the attraction. But Ichose to change my schedule to accommodate my desire. Me. In control.”
And hadn’t he managed to finish his business discussion rather than hanging up like he’d wanted to and kissing her until they were both naked and writhing on the floor? But when was the last time he’d contemplated making love on the floor?
Dios. “Maybe I feel a little out of control, but I’m managing.” Who was he trying to convince? Her, or himself?
“I’m glad someone is,” she muttered under her breath, looking away. Her body language changed subtly.
An arm crossed over her waist, her hand clasping the elbow of the arm that held her drink as she moved to sit in the armchair, creating a small barrier between them. Her legs crossed elegantly, pointed just slightly away from him and in the space of two seconds, she went from being open and warm to wary and reserved.
He’d lost ground. Not sure how or why, he only knew he didn’t like it.
He leaned over and tipped her face toward him with his thumb against her chin. “What is the matter?”
She gave him the smile he’d already learned to associate with her public persona. “Nothing.”
“Do not lie to me. Ever.”
She measured him with her eyes until he released her chin. Then she spoke. “Idon’t feel in control. It took major self-discipline not to rush through getting ready so I could get back to you. I even considered not washing my hair to cut out the drying time. I always wash my hair after an outdoor shoot. I had to force myself to get a drink instead of coming over here and touch you.I don’t touch men. ”
He gave her a look.
She grimaced. “You know what I mean. Indiscriminately.” She let out an angry sigh. “It’s bad enough to feel like this…so out of control, without facing the fact while the attraction might be mutual, it’s not necessarily at the same level.”
He said a pithy Chinese curse, knowing she wouldn’t know what it meant. Why did women have to analyze things like this? Emotions…as if they were something logical to be measured and compared. Desire was desire. He felt it. She felt it. They both struggled with control. Did it matter if he was better at winning the battle? Should he not be? He was the man, a man moreover who was used to being in control of more than his own life.
He’d been here with his mother and sisters, though. Seen them do the same thing with other men, with him even over different things. It frustrated the hell out of him, but he also knew he had to answer her concerns or the problem would only escalate. He had seen that, too.
He brushed her hair behind her ear, a deliberate gesture of affection that connected them. “I did not say I did not feel this inexplicable draw, merely that my choice to follow it was my own. As is yours,carida .”
“I’m not sure I’m making choices I would otherwise do.”
He was careful not to let the exasperated sigh trapped in his chest escape. Of course the choices were unique. The situation was different than anything he’d experienced and he was sure it was the same for her. “I would not have minded if you came over and touched me, but the fact that you did not shows that you have easily as strong a sense of control as I do.” Or at least very close to it. “What we feelis mutual. So, too, is our unwillingness to let it completely control us.”
She looked so damn uncertain and that was not an expression he wanted to see on her face. She needed a more concrete connection than a small touch of affection. She needed to feel his desire and know it was as real as her own. He took her water from her and placed it on the small table; then he tugged her from her chair straight into his lap.
She gasped, her aqua eyes going wide. “What are you doing?”
“Shoring up your confidence.” As his head lowered toward hers, he assured himself this was for her, not his overactive libido.
Their mouths touched and all thoughts of altruism fled while electricity sparked and crackled between them. Never had such a simple, almost chaste caress caused such a conflagration to his senses. Rapacious hunger blazed to life inside him for more of the tempting lips that tasted like the best sex he had ever had, but as sweet as vanilla spice.
Her mouth fit his perfectly and he explored every millimeter of her soft flesh, memorizing her taste and feel on an elemental level he did not begin to understand. He felt like Adam discovering the delights of Eve, but he was no inexperienced youth. He had known many women sexually and yet he could not deny the sensation of newness coursing through him now. It made no sense and his superior brain was too hazy with desire to attempt to understand.
Compulsively he ate at her lips, every nip, lick and caress making him crave more.He could not get enough. He wanted more…to go deeper, to claim all that she would give him. He pulled her lower lip between his teeth and sucked demandingly. She took the hint and opened her mouth for him with a small, high-pitched moan.
His big body shuddered under her and he plunged inside with his tongue, tightening his hold on her, yanking her body to press against his. Soft to hard. Curves to muscular contours. Perfect complements, all the more arousing for how right it felt. She was stiff for a heartbeat, as if she would try to hold herself back, but then she melted into him, her arms sliding around his neck.
Damn. Nothing had ever felt this good and he was not even inside of her. She fit him as if they’d been created for this very connection…it would be even better when they made love. It would be perfection.
Her tongue tangled with his, sliding and sparring in perfect feminine counterpoint to his masculine aggression. Her taste intoxicated him more effectively than a magnum of his favorite champagne and his head swam. He wrapped his hand in her hair, holding her head in place, though she was making no effort to move it. He had to taste every hidden recess of her mouth and mark it with his taste as his own.
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He’d never felt this primitive possessiveness before, but it felt right, too.
Too damn right.
The frisson of alarm from that thought did not stop him from increasing the carnality of the kiss.
He cupped her hip, sliding his hand in a caress along her leg, his thumb dipping down to brush her inner thigh through her skirt. She trembled, her slim legs parting slightly in tentative invitation. She was so thin, she felt like a waif in his arms. A very sexy waif, but with an ephemeral quality that engendered the irrational fear she would float away.
His hold on her hair tightened involuntarily, but even in his aroused state, he was careful not to pull at the silky strands. This woman would feel nothing but pleasure at his hand. Ever. Or anyone else’s, his predator’s mind growled in unexpected warning as his other hand slid around to cup her bottom possessively.
She moaned at his hand’s movement on her beautifully shaped derriere. The silky fabric of her dress acted as no barrier to his touch. He could feel the heat of her smooth skin beneath it and explored each dip and valley of her bottom before returning to her thighs where he moved inexorably toward her delta.
She cried out against his mouth when his fingers brushed against her apex and she arched her pelvis in blatant invitation. His sex was so hard, it pressed against confinement. He surged up from the chair, molding her body to his and using his hold on her backside to move her against his erection. He’d never been so close to spending in his trousers.
He rocked their bodies together, seeking some measure of relief for the agonizing pleasure. He wanted her. Now.
He considered dropping to the floor and having her right there, but a final spark of sanity prevailed and he headed toward the bedroom with her body locked against his. She didn’t seem to notice their movement, writhing in his arms, kissing him ferociously.
But when he pressed her back onto the bed and came down on top of her, she tore her mouth from his. “Wait! What are we doing?” The words came out between gasps that made his male pride spike.
“Do not tell me you do not know,mi dolce carida .” Oh, shewas sweet and utterly delicious.
Particularly the way she bit her bottom lip, her aqua eyes almost pleading with him. “I thought we were going to have dinner.”