by Desiree Holt
Not what she was doing now, that was for damn fucking sure. Damn. And fucking. Yes, prissy little Taylor Scott had also taken to cursing and using graphic language as her stifled inner self began to emerge, propelled by resentment that continued to smolder like an underground fire.
Her first step had been to resign from the investment firm where she worked. Today was her last day. The partners had taken her to lunch but refused to call it a celebration, asking her one last time to change her mind. But Taylor was adamant. She needed to do something else. Or maybe do nothing for a while. She’d turned into someone she didn’t even know, carrying a chip on her shoulder larger than a boulder. Where before she’d been agreeable and adaptable, now she was often hostile. Yes, it was definitely time for a change. She’d lost the person she was and had to discover who she was to become.
Not someone who picks up a stranger and allows him to push her sexual boundaries.
The two Banker’s Boxes on the floor next to her desk held the sum total of her years at Clemens Jacobs Financial Services. Color-tabbed folders holding personal papers, precisely aligned just as her life had been until a month ago. She was seized by an overwhelming urge to drag them out of their boxes and toss them into a jumble, just as her life had been tossed about. She’d been so regimented for so long—except for her one lapse—she wondered how she would manage without the anchor of routine.
Leaning back in her chair she closed her eyes and as always these days, unbidden, the image of The Man danced across her brain. She rubbed her eyes, trying to erase the images that were always there no matter how she wished them away. That night had been at once the most erotic and embarrassing night of her life. At least she broken out of her shell with a stranger, someone she didn’t have to see again.
You want to see him again, though. Quit kidding yourself. You want all those things he did to you, made you do. Maybe even more. That’s why you can’t stop thinking about them. About him.
A commotion in the reception area broke her train of thought and drew her attention. She heard the voice of Sheila, the receptionist, raised in protest over something and the angrier male voice overriding her.
“You can’t go in there,” Sheila was saying as the door to Taylor’s office flew open.
“I’m in. Miss Scott can throw me out if she wants to.”
There he was, standing in front of her.
Him, The Man.
She blinked hard, thinking for a moment she’d conjured up his image. But when she opened her eyes again he was still there. Alive. In her office. In full alpha mode. The man she’d never expected to see again. The man who’d taken her far beyond the boundaries set by her inhibitions and beckoned to her in her dreams each night.
He was even more impressive than she remembered, his presence filling her office and surrounding her. His custom suit and silk dress shirt—were they his uniform?—were window dressing for the barely leashed panther beneath the fabric of civilized clothing. Expensive hand tooled leather boots on his feet. His hair tied back with a leather thong as before. His face still an unreadable mask. The sense of controlled power still there. A man larger than life. The panther was caged today but just barely. This might be her office but he was definitely the person in charge.
Even as embarrassment and anger warred within her, her nipples hardened, her breasts tingled and her panties dampened with moisture. She felt every bit of blood drain from her face and drop to her feet. Waves of hot and cold rolled through her and she was sure all the air had been sucked from her lungs. Gripping the arms of her desk chair for support she licked her lips, trying to moisten them.
Quick, lithe movements brought him to the front of her desk where he stood facing her, his face set, dark eyes probing hers. Eyes that for a brief second held a knowing look.
“Miss Scott?” Sheila’s worried voice cut through her fog. “Shall I call one of the partners?”
Taylor managed to find a functioning part of her brain. “No, thanks, Sheila. It’s all right.”
“Would you like me to send someone in to carry your boxes for you? Walk you down to the garage?” Sheila wasn’t quite ready to let go.
Taylor forced a smile. “No, I can manage. Thanks for your concern. And for all your good wishes today.”
Sheila gave her a last worried look before she closed the door.
His eyes burned into Taylor’s, mesmerizing her as they’d done that night in San Antonio.
What is he doing here?
As if he’d heard her, he reached into his inside jacket pocket, extracted a card from a small leather case and dropped it on top of the folder.
She picked it up with fingers that trembled and stared at it.
Noah Cantrell, Vice President of Security, Arroyo Corporation
Rage fired throughout her system, displacing the sexual hunger that threatened to explode the minute she saw him. She tossed the card back on the desk and curled her hands into fists. “You knew who I was all the time.”
He nodded, his face expressionless.
“You tracked me down at the hotel.”
Another nod.
Taylor wanted to pick something up and throw it at him but she refused to let him see how he affected her. A game. He’d been playing a game. What a fool she’d been. “Well. I’m sure I gave you an interesting story to take back to your employer.”
“I told him I’d checked you out and you didn’t seem like a hustler or scam artist.” His voice was flat, uninflected. “He knew nothing of what happened between us.”
“How very kind of you.” She was shaking inside, panic and desire clashing wildly. The only protective shield she has was the anger she needed to feed. She had to get him out of there.
His face was a mask of stoicism but his unfathomable eyes glittered. “What happened between us was private and personal. I wouldn’t discuss it with anyone.”
“I’ll just bet.” He was standing so close to her she could count his eyelashes.
“When I took you to bed I broke the trust of a man who was very good to me and who I respected—still respect—a great deal. I’ve been damned for it ever since. No matter how I try, I can’t get you out of my blood.”
She was staring at him, shocked by his words. Even in her most farfetched dreams of him somehow finding her, she’d never expected the reality nor the harshness of the words he spat out. Before she could move his hands gripped her shoulders, he bent his head and pressed his mouth to hers in a blistering kiss. His tongue licked the seam of her lips, pressing, demanding she admit him. When she did he swept inside like a starving man seeking the last morsel of food. At length he released her, his eyes so heated she was sure his look alone would scorch her skin. Taylor stared at him, unable to move, her fingers touching her bruised lips, her body thrumming with desire.
“Tell me you didn’t feel that as much as I did,” he demanded, “and I’ll call you a liar.”
Finally she found her voice. “I should just tell you to get the hell out of here, you arrogant ass.”
“But you won’t, will you.” A statement, not a question.
“You seem very sure of that.”
Why is he here? What does he want? I can’t think when he’s in the same room with me. What the hell is wrong with me?
His voice jarred her out of immobility. “You still want to find out why I’m here. And I’m not leaving until I tell you. There’s too much at stake.” He folded himself into one of the client chairs.
Everything about his attitude said, “I dare you. To throw me out or to listen. Your choice.”
“Don’t make yourself comfortable. I didn’t answer your letter and refused all your phone calls. I have no interest in what brought you here. Josiah Gaines had no interest in me when he was alive. Dead he means even less to me.” She reached for the phone to call security. Getting him out of there had become a priority.
“I don’t believe you.” Noah leaned forward and placed a hand over hers, gripping it. “And you’re going to hear what I have to say
if I have to tie you down, little girl.”
His fingers on the back of her hand were like branding irons, searing her skin and sending shards of heat through her body. She snatched her hand away.
“Taylor.” She gritted her teeth. “My name is Taylor. I’m not your little girl or anyone else’s. And your threats don’t scare me.”
He shook his head. “I’m not leaving.”
“Look, Mr…”she made a show of looking at the card, “Cantrell, we have nothing to say to each other. You happened along at a bad moment in my life and I managed to thoroughly embarrass myself. I’d be very happy if you’d just get out of here.”
Noah leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. His bottomless black eyes captured hers. “I haven’t forgotten one minute of that night. Or stopped thinking about it. Don’t tell me it hasn’t been on your mind too.”
“I…” She wet her lips and started again, “That night is best forgotten. So are you and Josiah Gaines.” Her fingers played with the edges of the folder.
“Aren’t you curious about why I’m here?” His eyes challenged her again.
“I can’t afford to be. The message was quite clear when your employer had me tossed from his corporate headquarters by his thugs. All I wanted was five minutes of his time. Five stinking minutes to tell him who I was.”
A muscle jumped in his cheek. “Do you think I wanted to come here? The smartest thing I can do for myself is to stay as far away from you as possible. But Josiah made that impossible.”
“How did a man who’s now dead send you here on a mission you seem to resent?”
“Have dinner with me and I’ll tell you all about it.”
Have dinner with him?
Just being in the same room with him was dangerous. Sharing a meal would increase that danger. And what could possibly interest her about a man who threw her out of his life?
“I want nothing to do with you or anything that relates in any way to that man.” She nodded at the folder. “Especially now that he’s dead. Murdered, the newspapers say.”
Noah’s face hardened. “That’s a big part of what I need to discuss with you.”
She glared at him. “Why should I even care? The man had no time for me when he was alive. And why would I want to spend one minute with a man who had no conscience about playing a charade with me.”
The muscles in his face tightened. “I couldn’t tell you who I was.”
“Oh.” She tossed her hair. “But now it suits your purpose to reveal yourself. If I didn’t answer your letters or return your phone calls, what makes you think I’d spend another five minutes with you?”
“Taylor. Miss Scott.” Frustration tightened his voice. “We have a serious situation here. You must listen to me.”
“Give me one reason why I should do that. Otherwise you can just get out.”
A muscle ticced in his cheek as he pulled an envelope out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Read this.”
She pulled out the single sheet and unfolded it. Her hands began to shake as she read it.
“My dear Taylor,
There is so much I would like to say to you and I may not have the time. When I refused to see you that day it was because I had no reason to believe I had a child. Your grandparents saw to that. But I had to satisfy myself and now I have. I loved your mother more than life itself. Losing her nearly killed me.
I hope to see you soon and make amends but if something happens, trust no one but Noah Cantrell. No one. He is the only person I would trust to do what I’ve asked of him.
Your loving father (much too late),
Josiah Gaines
“How touching.” She folded the paper and slid it back into the envelope. “Why should I believe a word of this? It’s just one more letter screwing up my life.”
He was around the desk and lifting her out of her chair before she had time to protest. His fingers gripped her arms and his eyes bored into hers. “I’ll tell you two things. One. Have dinner with me and I’ll explain everything. Then if you want to walk away, it’s on your head but I don’t think you will. Two. If you think that night in the hotel is the end of it with us, you’re very much mistaken. Much as we both might want to pretend otherwise, you know I could take you down on this rug right now and fuck you blind and you wouldn’t push me away.”
She was losing herself in the intensity of those bottomless black eyes.
“Don’t try to deny you feel the same,” he went on. “Your body’s already responding to me, even as mad as you are.”
Taylor tried to pull away. “You’re very sure of yourself, for someone who showed up in my life under false pretenses and then didn’t contact me for a month. You obviously knew who I was. If you wanted me that badly why didn’t you come after me?”
His fingers bit into her skin, his face so close his breath was like a soft breeze against her skin. “There are things I can’t tell you. Reasons why I wish we could make this…thing between us go away. Coming after you would have been a disaster for both of us.”
“Yet here you are, despite what you just said.”
Muscles jumped along the line of his jaw. “I have a job to do. I told you. And damn me for it, I can’t seem to keep my hands off you. I find myself losing control where you’re concerned.”
“And you want me to sit down to dinner with you? After all that?”
Taylor felt as if her entire body was shaking. The heat and power that radiated from him enveloped her and his touch brought back every memory of every moment in that hotel room. Her nipples were so hard they felt raw as they pressed against the lacy fabric of her bra and her pussy throbbed with instant need.
Damn.
He gritted his teeth. “I think I can manage to keep from attacking you during a meal in a public place. What about you?”
She looked up at Noah Cantrell and knew she was stepping into more danger than she’d ever known. Taking a deep breath she drew her hand back and slapped him.
He didn’t even flinch. “Mind telling me what that was for?”
“For not telling me the truth that night. For letting me get drunk and make a fool of myself. For staying away from me.” She jerked herself out of his grasp. “For…for a lot of things.”
“We’ll let that lie for the moment.” The ghost smile danced across his lips. “Feel better now.”
“Yes.” No.
“Good. Then can I assume dinner is on?” He was still crowding her space. “Hear me out before you make any snap decisions.”
“All right. Dinner. Then we’ll see.”
* * * * *
Taylor knew at once she’d made a mistake in her choice of restaurants. She wanted one that was quiet and out of the mainstream, a place where she wouldn’t run the risk of seeing anyone she knew. She didn’t need to field questions about Noah Cantrell when she didn’t have any answers yet herself. But the atmosphere was more intimate than she remembered, the corner booth arranged so their knees touched beneath the table.
His presence was still overpowering, sensual, masculine. Panther had been a good word to describe him, with his caged power, jungle grace and the dark aura about him. But he also had the air of a warrior about him and she wondered idly about his ancestry.
Neither of them had ordered alcohol, as if both were determined to keep things businesslike and operate with clear heads. And after the bomb Noah dropped on her, she wondered if she shouldn’t change her mind and make friends with Jack Daniels again.
“He did what?” She still couldn’t come to grips with what she’d heard.
“Made you his sole heir. Period. Oh,” he waved his fingers in the air, “he has a few bequests that have been stipulated for a long time but the rest goes to you.”
“He knows nothing about me.” Taylor tried to kick her brain out of slow gear. “Had me thrown out of his building when I came to San Antonio. Why should he leave everything to me?”
Noah handed her a folder he’d brought into the restaurant with him. “He
didn’t totally ignore your claim. Josiah was nothing if not thorough. That was one of the keys to his success. Read everything in here. When you’re through, I’ll answer questions.”
He watched her through narrowed eyes while she scanned the papers. A lab report. A credit report. A copy of her grandparents’ wills. Her college credits. And on and on. A complete record of her life. She was ready to take the folder and tear everything in it to pieces when she came to the last item, an aging photo of a young couples smiling happily, arms around each other. The woman held a small bouquet of roses and the man had a rose pinned to his lapel. Even as old as the picture was, no one could miss the love that shone on their faces.
“Turn it over,” Noah told her.
She flipped to the back and her eyes widened. “I thought you might like this picture of your parents. Laura was the love of my life. Always. Your father, Josiah Gaines.”
Taylor wanted to put her head down and cry. For herself. For the young couple so desperately in love whose life was torn apart by people who made no allowance for emotion. For everything that could have been and wasn’t.
“I think I’ll have that drink after all.” She signaled the waiter.
“I’d stick to wine if I were you,” Noah cautioned. “We have a lot to discuss.”
“And I might lose my head and attack you again?” She curled her hands into fists. “Maybe this was a mistake after all.”
He grasped her hands. “This is no mistake. On any front. And next time I fuck you, little girl, it won’t be because you’ve consumed a week’s worth of alcohol.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “I’m not…”
“Yes. You are. And yes, we will.” His voice was low and intense. “Don’t think any of what’s going on will get in the way of what we both know is going to happen.” He released her hands and sat back, a strangely unsettled look on his face. “Whatever this is between us, we need to tame it and move on. We have business to conduct and more eyes than you can imagine will be watching us.”
Tame it. Move on. Like they were exorcising a demon.
If she had any sense she’d get up and run from the restaurant as fast as she could. Away from Josiah Gaines’ legacy. Away from what Noah Cantrell had to tell her. But most of all, away from the man himself. She was angry and frightened and aroused all at the same time. And the erotic lust that he’d awakened deep within her was pressing hard to burst forth again.