Tessa sighed regretfully. “What I have planned for that day is to take final exams. Typically those would be in the morning and I’d still be able to be here in the afternoon as usual. But I’m also required to have a interview and verbal exit exam with the program administrator, and that’s been scheduled for the afternoon. If I don’t attend the interview, then I won’t be able to complete the program and receive my certificate. And Thursday is the only day the interviews are being held so I can’t re-schedule. I’m so sorry, Mrs. C. If it was for any other reason I wouldn’t think twice about changing my plans.”
Mrs. Carrington had a fierce scowl on her small, pinched face. “Yes, I’m quite certain about that, young miss. And you certainly need to fulfill all the requirements of your certificate program. This is simply terrible, terrible timing is all. It’s a pity Mr. Gregson wasn’t able to pay us a visit last month as he’d originally planned. But for a man as important as he is, things do arise that require his attention and it’s certainly not up to us to question him.”
“I’m happy to work overtime or do whatever else is necessary to get things ready for his visit,” assured Tessa, anxious to soothe her very testy boss. “Everything is always in perfect order around here anyway, so I doubt there would be much to do to prepare for his visit. At least in our department.”
Mrs. Carrington worked directly for the hotel manager and supervised the rest of the administrative staff – though it was quite apparent that she was actually the one who called most of the shots, and that even the manager frequently deferred to her. Tessa had initially been surprised at just how much the older woman knew about the hotel operations, and the Gregson Group in general, at least until she’d learned that Mrs. Carrington had worked at corporate headquarters in London for several decades. She and her husband Oliver had only moved to Tucson a little over two years ago, his doctors having decreed the hot, dry desert climate much more beneficial for his chronic asthma and other health related issues.
Mrs. C’s scowl only deepened at Tessa’s well-intended praise. “Well, of course it is, my girl. As if I would allow it to be anything but. And while I appreciate your offer to put in extra hours, I really did want for you to meet Mr. Gregson. He is the Regional Director of all of our hotels in both North and South America, you know, and meeting him could prove helpful one of these days to advancing your career. You’re a bright girl, Tessa, hardworking and dedicated. Just the sort Mr. Gregson admires. And with a company as large as this one, the opportunities for advancement are almost endless. Provided, of course, that you pursue that degree.”
“I know.”
It was far from the first time that Mrs. Carrington had stressed the importance of Tessa getting her college degree, pointing out that the company offered a generous tuition reimbursement program, and that she could take night classes while still working here during the day. Tessa had even done a bit of research, and determined she’d probably be able to get a grant of some sort to help pay for most of the tuition. She knew that Peter would wholeheartedly support the idea, even if it meant tightening their budget even more than usual.
But she couldn’t, just couldn’t, admit to Mrs. C. that the real reason she didn’t want to further her education at this point was her fear of failure. Tessa knew that she was no brainiac, and the very thought of having to take another algebra or geometry class filled her with dread. High school had been a struggle for her every single day, and she’d been lucky to have graduated with a modest C+ average. She had zero idea how she would cope with the pressures of university level courses, and precious little faith that she could keep up with the demands.
Mrs. Carrington heaved a sigh of resignation. “However, it doesn’t seem as though you’ll get to meet Mr. Gregson after all this trip. A pity, because he’s quite an impressive man. Trust me, you would never forget meeting someone like him, Tessa. He’s both intimidating and charismatic at the same time. Not to mention the hardest working individual I’ve ever met, especially given his position in the company. Ian is definitely not a man content to rest on his laurels, or delegate what he considers his responsibilities to someone else. He may be one of the owners of the company, but you’d never know it to observe his work ethic.”
Tessa had learned from Mrs. C. that one of the many duties of the Regional Director was to visit each property in his territory at least once every two to three years. Mr. Gregson would spend a full day here touring the resort property, meeting with the management staff, and performing some sort of evaluation. She was amazed that he had so much responsibility, and guessed that he traveled a great deal given that there were several dozen Gregson properties under his direction.
“It must be hard on his family to have him on the road so often,” sympathized Tessa.
Mrs. Carrington shook her head. “Ian is a bachelor, actually. No wife or children. And how that state of affairs continues to exist is beyond my comprehension. He’s what one would rather indelicately call ‘quite a catch’.”
Mrs. Carrington had to take an incoming phone call at that moment, and thus end the conversation, but her description of Ian Gregson intrigued Tessa. Mrs. C. was normally not impressed by anyone, rarely if ever issued a compliment, and more often than not could be heard pointing out an individual’s numerous faults. So it surprised Tessa to hear her stiff-lipped, starchy boss sing the praises of their Regional Director quite so firmly, enough that she furtively pulled up the page on the corporate website that contained photos and bios of the executive staff.
Tessa knew that the Gregson Group was a family owned company, and that it had been founded in London over sixty years ago by Leland Gregson. Under the direction of Leland’s two sons – Edward and Richard – the company had grown by leaps and bounds, rapidly expanding from its European locations to North and South America, Australia, and Asia. The company had built dozens of brand new properties, but had also acquired existing ones to bring under the Gregson corporate umbrella. Nearly every hotel and resort owned by the company merited a five star rating from all of the major travel services, and the Gregson name was synonymous with wealth, class, and prestige.
Tessa quickly scrolled down the page of bios, noting that Edward and Richard both appeared to be in their late fifties or early sixties, and bore a great resemblance to each other. The next bio was that of Hugh Gregson, the eldest son of Edward and the Regional Director of the European hotels and resorts. Hugh was a graduate of Cambridge, married to the former Victoria Halstead, and was the father of four young sons.
But it was the next bio – and in particular, the photo – that caught and held Tessa’s attention. With a trembling hand she touched the screen image of the admittedly compelling, arrestingly handsome Ian Gregson, and fully understood why he had made such an impression on the normally impossible to impress Mrs. Carrington.
He was unsmiling in the photo, looking very formal and almost regal in his dark suit, pristine white shirt, and conservatively striped tie. Tessa thought him far more handsome than any movie star could ever hope to be, and even in such a small photo he oozed charisma and power. And as she studied his image more closely, her heartrate picked up a few beats to realize how greatly he resembled the man who visited her in those erotic dreams – her dream lover. She had yet to see her dream man’s features full on, but she thought it uncanny – if not a bit eerie – that the shape of Ian Gregson’s face, the curve of his jaw, the dark thickness of his hair – reminded her so intensely of the one who continued to seduce her so masterfully as she slept.
She squirmed a bit on her desk chair to realize she was growing aroused – her breasts swollen, her nipples beginning to peak, the dampness of her panties – and hastily closed out the webpage she’d been staring at like a love-struck adolescent. She forced herself to get back to work, and resisted the urge to take another glimpse at the striking, unforgettable features of Ian Gregson.
Tessa told herself that it was probably all for the better that she wouldn’t have the opportunity to meet h
im during his upcoming visit. Knowing how shy and awkward she was around strangers – especially a man as virile and attractive as Mr. Gregson – it was of a certainty that she would only make a fool of herself around him. Rather than admire her as Mrs. Carrington had claimed, Ian Gregson would instead wonder how on earth someone as silly and foolish as Tessa Lockwood had ever been hired to work for his very prestigious company.
It was three nights later when the dream came to her again. But this time she sensed immediately that it would be different from the previous ones – more intimate; more detailed; more erotic.
He stood behind her, the breadth of his hard, muscular chest pressed against her back as his strong arms circled her waist. Tessa’s eyes drifted shut, her head falling back in surrender against his shoulder as warm, firm lips caressed the side of her throat.
“Tessa.”
The way in which he said her name felt like a caress – his voice deep and sensual, causing a shiver to travel up and down her spine with just the single word. His arms tightened around her, pulling her even closer against him, until she could feel the unmistakable ridge of his erection pressing into the cleft between her buttocks.
“Ahh.”
The gasp escaped her lips in a soft, drawn-out breath as one of his hands slid up the side of her ribcage to fondle her breast. She was wearing a blouse of some silky fabric, and the sensation of his thumb rubbing over her nipple caused her to squirm in impatient arousal.
He laughed softly, the sound tickling her ear and making her shiver anew. “You’re such a sensual woman, Tessa,” he murmured, his long fingers plucking her nipple through the fabric of her blouse. “So easy to arouse, to please.”
She panted as he cupped a breast in each hand, his caresses growing bolder, rougher. “Only with you,” she confessed. “I’ve never felt anything like what you make me feel before.”
“Good,” he replied in that deeply sensuous voice, the one she’d always known but that was now spoken in a crisp, cultured British accent. “I want to be the only man who can touch you, kiss you, make love to you. The only one,” he added in a hushed whisper as his hand slid past her belly to cup her sex, “who can claim you for his own.”
“Yes,” she whimpered as he began to inch the fabric of her skirt up past her thighs. “You’re the only one. Just you. No one else – ever.”
“And who am I, Tessa?” he demanded. “Go ahead. Say my name.”
She made a little sound of protest, even as his fingers brushed teasingly against the dampened crotch of her lacy underwear. “I – I don’t know,” she stammered shyly. “I – I can’t say it out loud.”
“Yes, you can,” he urged, his thumb whisking back and forth over the tiny, over-sensitized nub of her clitoris. “Say it, Tessa.”
“Ian,” she gasped, her hips moving in desperate, needy sync with the steady pump of his fingers as they slid in and out of her wet, clenching slit. “You’re Ian.”
He grasped her chin between long fingers, tilting her head back as he kissed her savagely, his tongue sweeping boldly through her mouth. The fingers of his other hand kept up the steady thrusting motion in and out of her tight, greedy body.
And then the most stunning, powerful climax she’d ever known hit hard, causing her to clutch Ian’s arms in order to hold herself upright. Her legs were trembling, and she was half-afraid she would either collapse or faint. But before she could do either, he was picking her up and carrying her determinedly to some unseen bed in a darkened corner of an unknown room.
Her arms and legs felt weightless as he undressed her swiftly, stripping her until she was naked and quivering, feeling his hot gaze upon her as though it was a physical touch. He trailed a finger boldly down her body, lingering in the deep valley between her breasts before tickling her belly and drawing a giggle from her throat.
And then her laughter quickly morphed into a groan as those same long, talented fingers continued their downward path, teasing the soft blonde curls at the apex of her thighs before sliding back inside of her.
“God, you’re so deliciously wet,” he breathed, his mouth at her ear as he bent over her prone body. “I love that I can excite you this way. Are you ready for me, Tessa?”
“Yes,” she whispered, her pelvis lifting off the mattress as he continued to pleasure her with his fingers. “So much. Please – come to me now.”
“Say my name first.”
She gasped as his lips teased the corner of her mouth, lingered on her flushed cheeks, nibbled at her jaw. “Please – Ian.”
He cupped her face between his palms, and even in the dim light of whatever room they were in she could clearly see the gleam in his eyes and the satisfied smile on his handsome face. “One day, Tessa, you’ll belong to me – body and soul. And when the time is right I promise that I’ll come to claim you for my own. Until then, dream of me. Dream of us.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck as he kissed her again, this kiss speaking clearly of domination, of ownership. It was both a possession and a promise, and Tessa opened her mouth eagerly to him, surrendering both her body and her will to his sensual, masterful touch.
In the dark Ian undressed with slow, careful deliberation, and even though he remained largely in shadow she still gasped as he removed each article of clothing, baring another part of his magnificent body to her hungry gaze. When he was nude he came to her, taking her into his arms and rolling her beneath him. She almost recoiled at the look on his face, at the possessive, hungry expression in his eyes as he held her gaze captive.
“You and I are meant for each other, Tessa,” he whispered almost harshly. “No other woman but you will ever do. And when I finally claim you for my own, there will never be another man for you. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she cried out, trying to pull him closer against her, silently inviting him to take possession of her body. “From the first time I saw you no other man existed for me.”
Ian smiled with satisfaction as he began to lower his sinfully handsome mouth towards her. “You’re mine, Tessa. And one day I’ll be able to claim what’s rightfully mine.”
The bedcovers were a tangled mess when she woke, sheets and blankets twisted hopelessly around her legs and hips. It was still dark outside, and Tessa reluctantly opened one eye to gaze at her little bedside clock. She was relieved to notice it was barely three a.m., still a few hours before she had to get up for the day, and she wasn’t all that surprised to realize Peter’s side of the bed hadn’t been slept in as yet.
But what did surprise her was the discovery that her entire body was covered with a fine mist of sweat, something that hadn’t been caused by the comfortable temperature of the room. Her little cotton nightgown was also soaked with perspiration, and she grimaced as she slid out of bed and quickly pulled the garment over her head. She knew instinctively that she’d been having another of those eerily realistic erotic dreams, the ones she could never quite remember specific details about, but where a lingering sense of his presence always existed.
And then, as she hastily washed up and pulled on the clean nightgown, she gasped again as a fleeting image from her dream taunted her – the stunningly handsome face of her until now unseen dream lover. She was horrified beyond description to realize that his face was that of Ian Gregson, one of the owners of the company she worked for, and whose photo she’d been practically salivating over a few days ago.
She’d never been one to indulge in schoolgirl crushes on movie stars or musicians, largely because she’d rarely had the opportunity to experience any sort of normal adolescent or teenage behaviors. Her life had been too chaotic, too difficult, to allow for such little indulgences. Instead of poring over celebrity magazines or listening to music, she had been balancing the checkbook or doing the laundry or worrying about her mother’s latest bout of depression. Tessa had always been practical, realistic, and had rarely allowed herself to fantasize about things that could never be.
As she straightened the rumpled sheets befo
re sliding back into bed, Tessa was grateful that Peter hadn’t been in the room during this latest episode of hers. Not that he would blame her in any way for dreaming about another man, but she still couldn’t help feeling guilty over these increasingly detailed dreams. Despite their dysfunctional sexual relationship, and Peter’s repeated urges for her to find satisfaction elsewhere, Tessa knew she would never be able to betray her marriage vows. Even if it was with a man as sexually compelling and heart-stoppingly handsome as Ian Gregson.
Chapter Eight
San Francisco
Ian glanced up from the report he’d been pouring over as his cell phone buzzed with an incoming call. And since it was his personal phone – the one a scant handful of people in the entire world had the number for – he knew it would be a family member calling. He grimaced, though, when he saw on the caller ID that it was his younger – and highly irritating – brother Colin on the other end.
“What is it?” asked Ian, not even attempting to hide his annoyance. He had far too much work to get through this morning to listen to another recap of Colin’s most recent date. He’d truly believed he had left all of that behind when he had moved out here to California almost a year ago, confident that no longer sharing a residence with his younger brother meant that the stories of Colin’s frequent and wild hook-ups would remain solidly in London. Thus far he’d been proven wrong on a regular basis.
Colin’s chuckle only served to annoy Ian further. “What’s wrong, old man? Wake up on the wrong side of the bed again? I’m just assuming – as usual – that you woke up alone. And that’s the crux of your problem, Ian. You aren’t getting laid anywhere near enough for a bloke your age. If you were, you’d be in a much better mood.”
“Like yourself, I suppose?” muttered Ian darkly, wondering how much of a ruckus it would cause in the family if he decided to block Colin’s number from his phone.
Covet (Splendor Book 1) Page 11