by Cara Summers
He moved his mouth lower, whispering kisses down the valley between her breasts, and then down her stomach. He lingered at her waist as if there were some taste there that he favored and then he went lower.
He drew her legs farther apart and held them down. And then she could feel his breath right there where she burned for him.
“I’m going to kiss you here—in a moment. But first…” He trailed kisses up and down one thigh and then the other, at times coming close to where she wanted him…but not close enough.
Sensations swamped her, each one growing more intense than the last—the scrape of his teeth at the back of her knee, the texture of his tongue on her thigh and the terrible aching emptiness that seemed to fill her. When she thought she couldn’t stand it one more minute, he was there close to where she wanted him again.
“Now, Rory. I’m going to taste you now.”
Then his mouth was exactly where she wanted it, his lips brushing little kisses—not nearly hard enough. But when she tried to arch closer, he tightened his grip on her legs.
Finally, he pressed his mouth fully against her and used his teeth and his tongue. Heat shot through her, scorching her. She tried to move, but he wouldn’t allow it. She was trapped—she could barely breathe as he used his tongue to penetrate her again and again. She couldn’t lift her hips.
“Hunter!”
As if he had been waiting for her to say his name, he used one thumb to rub her hard and plunged the other one into her. She erupted, pleasure careening through her in one wave after another.
He gathered her to him, holding her tightly against him until the last echo of her climax died away.
“A little improvement on the ‘wham-bam’ in the pool?” he finally asked.
Although she wouldn’t have thought it possible in her present state, she laughed. “It was wonderful. But I would never complain about the pool. You may be turning me into a sex maniac.”
“My good luck.”
She lifted her head and met his eyes. “No, it’s my good luck. And I think it’s my turn now.”
Using both hands and all of her strength, she rolled him on his back and straddled him. Then she took his erection into her hands. “Another time, I’ll return the favor, but right now I want you inside me.”
As if her wish were his command, he gripped her hips, lifted her and penetrated her. She wanted to laugh with the joy of it, but the hunger was building too quickly. His first two thrusts sent her spinning back to the world of sensations he’d trapped her in only minutes ago. Her skin burned where those long fingers pressed into her hips. And those eyes—they were focused on her with that intentness that heightened the pleasure of each thrust. Grasping his shoulders so that she wouldn’t fall, she kept her gaze steady on his. The instant his features tightened, her own pleasure exploded again. “Come with me, Hunter. Come with me now.”
Then she began to move faster and faster until she heard his cry of satisfaction.
8
“LEA ROBERTS IS RORY’S EDITOR at Celebs?” Hunter turned from the French doors in Lucas Wainwright’s office to face Tracker.
Tracker’s gaze narrowed. “Sounds like you know her.”
Hunter’s mind was racing. “I know the name. If it’s the same Lea Roberts I used to know, we go back a long way.” He stopped then, wondering how much he would have to tell Tracker.
“You’d better tell me everything,” Tracker said after a beat. “I’ll find most of it out anyway, and it might speed up the solution to your problem.”
Though his respect for the man seated behind the desk was growing each time they met or talked, there were some things that Tracker would not discover. Hunter intended to keep it that way.
He walked forward and took one of the two chairs in front of the desk. “I haven’t seen the Lea Roberts I used to know in ten years. She worked for the local newspaper in the town where I grew up, the Oakwood Sentinel. She was twenty-eight, bright, beautiful and skilled in many ways that would appeal to a nineteen-year-old boy.”
Tracker’s gaze narrowed. “You were lovers?”
Hunter nodded. “For about six months. It started out as a summer romance during my last summer before college, and then it continued when I came home on breaks that first semester. She even visited me on campus once. My family owned the paper as well as the bank. She was beautiful, smart, and though I didn’t see it at the time, she was ambitious. She probably figured that having an affair with one of the Marks sons would eventually pay off career wise. And it did.”
“How did you feel about her at the time?”
Hunter met Tracker’s eyes. “I thought I was in love with her.”
“Did your family know about the affair?” Tracker asked.
Hunter thought for a minute. “I never considered that before—but they might have.”
“And they didn’t object?”
Hunter paused again to consider the question. This was a period of his life that he rarely reflected on. “They might have even approved. I was pretty wild my last year in high school. Driving under the influence, minor vandalism. Classic behavior for a kid in rebellion. That changed some when I went off to college. Meeting Lucas was good for me. My family problems at the time seemed to fade when he talked about his. But I had the well-established reputation in Oakwood of being the black sheep of the Marks family. My older brother was the model child, groomed to take over the company, and perhaps even to go into politics. Looking back, I can see that my parents might have thought Lea was a good influence on me.”
Tracker leaned back in his chair. “I’m planning on making a trip to Oakwood this afternoon to see what I can dig up on whatever your anonymous enemy is going to reveal about you. You could save me some time.”
Hunter spread his palms wide. “My life is an open book in Oakwood. I was still seeing Lea when I came home from college over Christmas break. And that’s when the scandal broke.”
“The scandal?”
“You can access the whole story in the Sentinel. It spread to other major newspapers, too. In a nutshell, while I was away at college, my family, namely my brother and my father and mother, discovered that there were millions missing from investment accounts that they’d been managing at the bank, and that was due to the fact that I’d been doing a little embezzling. Of course, I’d intended to pay it back, but my gambling habits made that impossible. If the news had leaked out, there would have been a run on the bank. Luckily, my family discovered it in time and forced me to liquidate my trust fund to cover the amount. I left town in disgrace. The bank, the townspeople and my family lived happily ever after.”
Tracker studied him for a moment. “No one pressed charges?”
“I didn’t stick around. And my father and mother got off easy. They had a lot of friends. Plus, the way the story was handled played up the fact that the Marks family saved the bank in spite of my unfortunate gambling and embezzling habits. The day that I left town was the last day that Hunter Marks existed.”
Tracker studied him for a moment. “How much would it hurt Slade Enterprises if your past came out?”
“Enough. I’ve built a good reputation, but some people would hesitate to do business with an embezzler.”
“You’re not telling me everything.”
Hunter merely held the other man’s gaze.
“Okay. We’ll leave it at that for now. But I still have a couple of questions. Does this Lea Roberts know what you’re still keeping from me? And does she know that Jared Slade and Hunter Marks are one and the same?”
“Good questions,” Hunter said. He couldn’t have phrased them any better himself. “There are several possibilities. I can’t believe she’s behind the threats. And she doesn’t necessarily know who I used to be. So she could just be after an exclusive with Jared Slade. Or she could be working with whomever is making the threats. Or she could be a pawn, someone that’s being fed information.”
“You think it’s just a coincidence that Celebs got the
anonymous message?” Tracker asked.
“No. But it could be that whoever is behind this has an ironic turn of mind. Writing about the downfall of Hunter Marks was Lea Roberts’s ticket out of Oakwood. Exposing the true identity of Jared Slade could give another big boost to her career.”
“But she didn’t come in person to the hotel. She sent Rory Gibbs,” Tracker mused.
“Lucky for me.”
“Maybe she didn’t want to be anywhere near the hotel in case the bomb went off. I’ll find out where Lea Roberts was when the incidents in New York and Atlanta occurred. I’m also still checking the whereabouts and phone records of Denise Martin, Michael Banks and Alex Santos for those dates.” Tracker paused and leaned back in his chair. “One more question—though I hate to ask. Could someone in your family be behind this?”
Hunter shook his head. “No. They don’t know who I’ve become. Hunter Marks has been dead to them for a long time.”
Tracker sighed. “This would be a lot easier if you told me everything.”
Hunter avoided that topic and instead said, “There’s another question—one you haven’t asked,” Hunter said. “Is Rory Gibbs a pawn or is she involved right up to her pretty little neck?”
Tracker met his eyes. “I figure that’s an answer you’ve decided to get for yourself.”
RORY STARED DOWN at the array of clothes that McGee had delivered to her room.
“Just a few things Mr. Hunter wanted you to have since you didn’t have time to pack,” McGee had said.
Hunter had said that he’d get her some clothes, but…she hadn’t expected him to send McGee shopping at a nearby mall. She’d seen the names of the stores on the boxes—high-end places that she wouldn’t have the courage even to walk into.
No, scratch that, she thought as she reached out to finger the lace on an oyster-white camisole. This had come from Silken Fantasies, and she’d been in that shop—at least in the flagship store. A smile curved the corners of her mouth. That had been her lucky day. Would any of this have happened if she hadn’t ducked into that store to escape the Terminator? Or if she hadn’t tried on that red bra and thong?
Rory pressed a hand to her stomach, then lowered it to where the red triangle fit snugly beneath her jeans. When she’d returned to her room to shower, she’d put it on again for luck.
She let her gaze sweep the room. During the course of the afternoon, McGee had delivered more than clothes. A laptop computer sat on an antique mahogany desk. She also had Internet access and a printer. Plus, McGee had informed her she had an appointment to meet with Mr. Hunter at five o’clock for the first part of the interview. Hunter had even sent up a little schedule of the evening’s events: Interview—5–6; Dinner—7–8; Interview Cont’d—8–10.
She had to hand it to him. Hunter was a ruthlessly organized man. A quick glance at her watch told her that she still had half an hour to prepare for the interview. And that was what she should be doing rather than gazing at a wardrobe fit for royalty.
With a sigh, she ran a hand down a silky red sundress. Next to it was a pair of matching sandals. The ivory-colored suit was pretty, too—slim-legged pants with a short double-breasted jacket and tank top. There were strappy sandals to match that outfit, too. There was even a strand of pearls with matching earrings. Unable to help herself, she picked up the earrings and put them in her ears. She moved to the mirror and smiled at the way the small pearls dangled from thin gold chains. Then she walked back to the bed. Looking at the clothes, she felt a little like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman—way out of her league.
Then her gaze fell on the last thing that McGee had unpacked and set on the bed—a small brown bag filled with bubble gum. Her heart did a slow tumble in her chest just as it had when she’d first peeked inside.
Hunter had asked McGee to bring her bubble gum. She picked up the bag and held it close.
HUNTER LOST TRACK of the time as he stood there in the open doorway watching her. But when she lifted the bag of bubble gum and clutched it to her chest, the doubts seemed to slip away again. True, he’d been led down the garden path by a woman reporter when he was nineteen. But he wasn’t a naive nineteen-year-old anymore, and Rory wasn’t Lea Roberts.
Still, he wasn’t so sure that he fully trusted his instincts where she was concerned. From the first moment he’d seen her in that lobby, she’d clouded both his senses and his mind.
But she wasn’t sleeping with him to get a story. Hadn’t she made that clear? And he noted with a slight frown that she was wearing the faded jeans and T-shirt she’d arrived in that morning. Plus, she was barefoot.
“You don’t like the clothes?” he asked.
She whirled to face him and he watched the heat rise in her cheeks.
“I didn’t hear you come in.”
“You’re not wearing any of them.”
“They’re beautiful. They’re just not me.”
No, she wouldn’t think they were right for her. Hunter tamped down on a quick spurt of anger. It wasn’t the first time that he would have liked to get his hands on her four ex-boyfriends.
“What kind of clothes are you?” he asked.
She glanced down at what she was wearing. “Blue jeans, T-shirts. When I get dressed up, I usually go for modern and funky things that make a statement—rather than classic and elegant.”
He moved closer to the bed. “You don’t see yourself as elegant?”
“I’m barely five foot two. Elegant is more like my sisters.”
He frowned. “Why are you always comparing yourself to them?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Do you have any siblings?”
He thought of his brother. “Point taken.”
“Did your parents favor your sisters?” he asked. Then he wondered how in the world the question had popped out. Until his recent conversation with Tracker McBride, he hadn’t let himself think about his family in years.
“No. They were great. My dad especially was always pointing out my talents to me and encouraging me to nurture them.” She shrugged. “He did that with all of us. Natalie inherited my father’s knack for cracking safes and his gift for disguise. Sierra got his brains.”
“What did you inherit?”
“I just got his luck.”
“Don’t knock luck. I’ll take it any day in a pinch.” He reached out and brushed a finger against her earring. “Some people see pearls as elegant. I’m glad that you’re wearing them.”
“I couldn’t resist. But I’m going to give them back. And you should be able to get your money back for the dresses. We’re hardly going to need them. I’m going to be interviewing you here. It’s not like we’re dating or anything.”
He regarded her steadily. “We’re not dating?”
“No…we’re…that is, I’m…I’m interviewing you, and that’s business. And in an entirely separate arrangement, we’re also enjoying a temporary, mutually enjoyable…adult relationship.” She paused to frown a bit. “Not that I’m trying to put words in your mouth when I say it’s mutually enjoyable.”
“Not at all. In fact, you took the words right out of my mouth.” The nerves and concern in her eyes had him reaching out to place a hand on her cheek. “Did you think I had the clothes delivered as a sort of payment for sexual favors?”
“No. That’s not…I really didn’t.” She paused to gather her thoughts. “I didn’t mean to imply that at all. It’s just that they’re clearly expensive and unnecessary. And if I don’t wear them, you can get your money back.”
He’d never met a woman quite like her, Hunter decided. Studying her for a moment, he wondered what tack to take. Finally, he said, “Why don’t you think of them as costumes?”
“Costumes?”
“You did say that you wanted to experiment a bit at being in control? Dresses, jewelry, shoes—aren’t they just part of the arsenal a woman uses to seduce a man?”
Rory glanced down at the clothes. “I suppose.”
“I’ve always found that elegan
t can be quite sexy.”
She met his eyes then. “Really?”
“Uh-huh. Right now, I’m picturing you sitting across the table from me in the main dining room wearing that red dress. McGee is serving us, and all I’m thinking of is how quickly I can get you out of it.”
She glanced at the dress and back at him. “I don’t think it would pose much of a problem.”
“And I’ll be wondering if you’re wearing the red thong underneath it. Or nothing at all.”
He could see her bite back a grin, but all she said was, “For a man so successful in business, all you think about is sex.”
He flicked the pearl dangling from her ear again. “In the right company, it’s pretty much all I can manage. Right now, I’m imagining you wearing nothing but pearls.”
She took a step back from him, but she was smiling now, and he sensed that the battle had been won.
“All right, I’ll wear them.”
“Good.” He gave her a satisfied nod.
She cocked her head at him. “You’re one smooth negotiator, aren’t you?”
“I do my best.”
“Well…” She glanced at the bed. “Before I fulfill any of your adolescent fantasies, we’re going to start that interview—and we’re going to do it in the downstairs office.”
“Damn,” he said amiably as he led the way out of the room. “If I were really a smooth negotiator, I would have convinced you to postpone the interview, and we’d be doing something much more interesting on that bed.”
Her laughter filled the air as they walked companionably down the stairs together.
RORY BLEW A BUBBLE as she studied the sheets of paper—three in all—that Hunter had handed her the moment that they’d entered the office. They reminded her of Sierra’s note cards. Everything was perfectly clear, concise and prioritized with numbers. Nerves had knotted in her stomach the moment she’d seen them. She should have anticipated that he’d be fully prepared for the interview. For a moment, she allowed herself to feel a pang of envy. He was as organized as her sisters, maybe more so. Then she remembered what he’d said about not comparing herself to others, and she blew another bubble.