“All ready?” Will asked, his mouth quirking up in a half smile.
“Well, I’m all packed,” she said, gesturing to the small suitcase she had standing in the compact entrance to the house.
“Shall we head off then?”
“Sure, just let me check I’ve locked everything up securely first.”
Margaret shot around the house, double-checking all the doors and windows were closed and that the note she’d left for Jason was where he wouldn’t miss it. By the time she swung her key in the deadlock of the front door, Will had already put her case in the trunk of his midnight-blue Chrysler 300 and was waiting by the passenger door for her to come outside.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said, suddenly shy.
It was ridiculous to feel this way, she told herself. They’d been working together the past week in close quarters, and had spent several hours together outside of work as well. She’d gotten to know him as a man of integrity, quite at odds with the hard-ass attitude he’d been painted with when he’d first arrived for the takeover. He struck her as being fully committed to finding the most workable solution to the transition of ownership from the Worth family to Rafe Cameron. Will was intelligent and insightful. Both qualities Margaret admired greatly.
She’d had plenty of time to think about her earlier perceptions of Will, in particular, plenty of time to rethink her perceptions. He could easily have let Jason go to the wall over the funds that had been so artfully skimmed. Sure, he’d thrown his weight around a bit to get her to agree to act as his fiancée as well, but over dinner last night he’d told her a bit about the reasons behind his need for her helping him. In particular, he told her about the family farm his grandparents had run—the fifth generation of his family to do so—and his father’s plans to sell the property if Will couldn’t satisfy his wish for his youngest son to settle down.
She’d seen a side of him that no one at the office had seen before. Certainly a side that no one expected to see from him. By all accounts the whole farming operation was huge and Will’s dad was keen to make the most of international interest and sell to the highest bidder. But Will was equally determined the property should remain in family hands—specifically his hands. He’d talked about what the time he’d spent on the farm growing up had meant to him, how it had helped him keep a perspective in life as his parents’ wealth had grown in leaps and bounds. His father had never wanted to take over the farm, as had generations of Tanners before him, choosing instead a career in finance. Albert Tanner’s acumen had eventually led to him taking a senior management role in New York that had seen the whole family relocate to the other side of the world.
But deep down, Will still felt it was vitally important to maintain that link with his family’s past. The reminder that generations of Tanners had hewn a living from what had sometimes been a hostile land, and in bitter conditions, yet had managed to hold on to humor and each other through it all. While he had no plans to actively farm the land himself, he saw no reason why the current method of using a caretaker/manager, with a full complement of staff, couldn’t be maintained. And if he was so inclined as to visit every now and then, and muck in with the rest of them, then so be it.
The thought of Will in a pair of muddy rubber work boots—what had he called them? Gumboots?—and sturdy farm gear brought a small smile to her face.
“Penny for them?” Will said, interrupting her thoughts.
“Just thinking about what you told me last night and trying to picture you in a pair of gumboots,” she said, a gurgle of laughter rippling from her throat. “Seriously, after seeing you day in, day out in your suits, it’s quite a stretch of the imagination.”
Will grinned at her briefly before transferring his attention back to the traffic winding in front of them on the freeway.
“Believe it, it happens.”
The trip south into San Diego went smoothly, taking no more than half an hour and before Margaret even had time to fully appreciate their downtown surroundings, they were pulling up in front of one of the city’s historic five-star hotels and her car door was being opened by liveried staff.
Her heart was in her mouth as they stepped into the grand lobby. She’d never seen anything like it in her life. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling and muted-tone silk carpets made her fear to tread upon them.
“You like it?” Will asked at her side.
“Like doesn’t even begin to describe it.”
“Wait until you see our suite.”
A suite. That could mean two bedrooms, couldn’t it? Margaret wasn’t sure if she felt a sense of relief, or regret. She didn’t have too long to find out, though. They were checked in with supreme courtesy and efficiency and before long were shown to a suite comprising two levels.
While Will tipped the bellboy, Margaret made an exploratory tour. The lower level was made up of a sitting room which opened out onto a wide, furnished balcony. She shook her head slightly. Even the outdoor furniture put that of her humble home to shame. If she hadn’t been aware of the two different worlds in which she and Will moved before, she certainly was now. She carried on through the suite and made her way up the staircase, her hand trailing on the black walnut railing.
At the top of the stairs was the master bedroom. Perhaps the door off to one side led to another bedroom, she thought, as she turned the handle and exposed a decadently luxurious marble bathroom. She pulled the door closed again and turned around.
One bed.
One huge, luxurious bed covered in soft pillows and fine bed linens.
Her nerves jangled. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t spent most of her waking hours during the past week imagining what it would be like to be in Will’s arms—in his bed. But facing the potential reality was another thing entirely. Was she even ready for this? In so many ways, no, she most definitely wasn’t. However, from deep within her a voice grew stronger, its response to her internal question a resounding “yes.” He’d said he wouldn’t have to force her, and he’d been so very right.
Will waited on the lower level of the suite as Margaret investigated what the rooms had to offer. Had she noticed he’d only booked one bedroom yet? he wondered. It had been a conscious decision on his part, although if she demurred he had no problem with booking a separate room for her. But it was time he took their so-called relationship to the next level. She was comfortable with him now, physically and socially, although if she was going to convince his parents she really was his fiancée, he needed her to be totally invested in him. He’d hoped to take his time seducing her, but an email from his mother this week had mentioned his father was sourcing realtors in New Zealand who specialized in rural property.
To delay any longer would be cutting things a little too close and he wasn’t prepared to take the risk.
He looked up as Margaret made her way back down the staircase to the sitting room.
“Some champagne?” he asked, gesturing to the ice bucket, sweating gracefully on a linen placemat on the coffee table.
She hesitated. Was the objection to their sleeping arrangements going to come now? Will held his breath until she appeared to make up her mind and crossed the room to his side.
“Why not? That would be a lovely way to start the weekend.”
He relaxed. Everything was going to plan quite nicely. With deft movements he dispensed with the foil and cage at the neck of the champagne bottle and popped the cork before spilling the sparkling golden liquid into the crystal champagne flutes on the table. He picked them both up and offered one to Margaret.
“To us,” he said.
She met his gaze with a serious look in her dark eyes. “To us,” she answered and tapped her glass gently against his.
Without breaking their visual connection he lifted his glass to his lips and took a sip. She mirrored his actions, all the time her eyes holding his, and he felt the desire that he’d kept tightly coiled within him all week begin to unravel and take life.
When she took
her glass away from her mouth a slight shimmer of moisture remained there. Tempting him. Daring him. He took her glass from her unprotesting hand and placed it back on the table with his own. When he straightened he reached for her, drawing her to him as if the action had been predestined. If he stopped to think about it, it had been—certainly from the moment she’d chosen to protect her brother and his job. But it wasn’t time for thinking anymore. No, now it was time to act.
As his lips sealed hers he both felt and heard her surrender to him. It had been the same each time he’d kissed her this past week. The tiny hum she made. It intoxicated him in a way no other stimulant ever could. His whole body focused on the sound, every nerve in his body taut with anticipation.
Her arms tightened around him, as if she could hardly support herself without him, and her kiss was as open and giving as he’d hoped for. He adored the taste of her, the texture of her. It was all he could do to hold on to his wits, to remind himself that this seduction should progress by degrees, not flame out in a flashover of uncontrolled need. But try as he might, his body demanded more. And it demanded it now.
Will reluctantly broke the kiss, noting with pleasure the tiny moue of regret on her lips. He took her hand and led her to the staircase and slowly drew her up the stairs. At the top he took her into his arms again, and this time he didn’t plan to let go for quite some time.
The buttons on the silk blouse she wore slid free with ease, and he feasted his gaze upon her soft, smooth skin. Fine white lace cupped her generous breasts and as much as he admired the craftsmanship of the undergarment, it obstructed his view of her just a little too much. He slid her blouse from her shoulders and free of her arms, absorbing her tiny cries with his mouth as he trailed his fingertips over her softly rounded arms, chasing the piece of clothing until it fell to the floor.
All week she’d tormented him with her wardrobe that hinted at, yet concealed, her feminine curves. She was the most sensuously put together woman he’d ever met, yet the most modest at the same time. The juxtaposition was both intriguing and provocative. And now she was all his to discover.
It took the merest twist of the hooks at the back of her bra and her glorious breasts were revealed to him. He smoothed his hands across her ribcage, bringing them underneath the full creamy-skinned globes and cupping them gently, reverently. She gasped as he brushed his thumbs across the deep rose pink tips, feeling them pebble into tight buds beneath his touch.
He trailed small kisses from the corner of her mouth to her jaw as he relished the weight and firmness of her in his hands. When he bent his head lower and caught a tender tip gently between his teeth, a small keening sound broke from Margaret’s throat. He hesitated, laving the areola with the tip of his tongue, waiting for her to tell him to stop, but instead he felt her fingers drive into his hair and cup the back of his head, holding him there.
A tremor of satisfaction rippled through him. She wanted this as much as he did. She wouldn’t regret a second of it, he promised silently. Not one single moment. He would give and give until there was nothing left.
Later, he couldn’t say how they came to be naked and lying together on the bed, flesh burning with heat and need for one another. The details were unimportant. But several things would remain in Will’s memory forever.
The way his hands trembled as he explored the dips and hollows of Margaret’s lush body. Her unabashed joy in his touch. Her sharp sigh of completion as he brought her to orgasm, the taste of her as he did so. And then, the overwhelming sensation of entering her body, of feeling her clamp her inner strength around him, of drawing her to yet another peak before he tumbled past reason and joined her on that plane where they both hovered, suspended by pleasure, before slowly returning back to reality.
They lay there for some time, legs still entwined, hearts still racing, fingers still tracing one another before Will could put together a single rational thought.
He’d lost track of whether he was the seducer or the seduced. Something had happened while they made love. It had ceased to be something he wanted to do, albeit it had been a task he’d relished. No, somewhere along the line it had become something bigger than that. Something more. Something he didn’t want to examine too closely—certainly not now while he had so very much at stake.
And that’s what he needed to concentrate on now, he reminded himself. They still had plenty of time before they needed to get ready for the show tonight. It didn’t start until eight, and he had plenty of ideas of how they could fill their time until then.
Margaret basked in a rosy glow of supreme satisfaction as they exited the theater. Will had been amazingly attentive all evening so far, and he was an incredibly considerate lover, too. Not that she had a great deal to compare him to, but no one had ever brought her to the heights of pleasure he had. Her arm was tucked through Will’s and she felt her sensitized breast brush against his arm as they made their way outside through the press of theater patrons. Even through his suit fabric she could feel the heat of his body, and felt the answering burn of her own.
She’d barely been able to concentrate on the performance of Fiddler on the Roof, even though the story was one she’d adored since childhood. All evening she’d been excruciatingly aware of the man at her side. The man who’d bared her for his delectation only a few short hours earlier, when they’d finally gotten around to finishing their champagne, amidst more lovemaking.
If she was a cat she’d be purring right now. It wasn’t until her vision was blinded by a sudden bright flash that Margaret became aware they were no longer caught in the throng of bodies exiting the theater, but stood upon the pavement waiting for the car and driver the hotel had arranged for them earlier.
“Don’t worry,” Will murmured in her ear as she looked around to see where the flash had come from. “It’s just some paparazzo looking for some celebrity gossip.”
“Well, they won’t find much from us, will they?”
“I don’t know. The way you look tonight they’ll probably print the picture to sell more papers.”
Margaret pushed playfully against his chest. “You have to be kidding.”
But Will’s eyes grew serious as he looked back at her, the smile fading from his face. “Oh, no, I’m not kidding at all. You look sensational.”
“Well, if I do, it’s all because of you. You made me this way.”
Their car materialized through the traffic and pulled up smoothly alongside of them. Will didn’t answer, and opened the back door for her to get in ahead of him. Had she hit a sore point? she wondered, as he followed her into the car and they drew away from the curb.
“Hungry?” Will asked.
Margaret realized she was famished. The light snacks they’d eventually brought up to the bed and enjoyed with the balance of their champagne had tided her over but now she was ready for something more substantial.
“Definitely,” she said.
“Then it’s just as well I’ve booked us somewhere for supper,” he said with a wink.
She looked at him across the semidarkness of the car interior and felt her chest constrict. There was something about him that appealed to her on every level—had from the first moment she’d seen him—and it deepened with every minute she spent with him now.
By the time they were seated at the intimately lit restaurant Will had chosen, Margaret felt as if every cell in her body was attuned to his. She left the menu selection to him, preferring instead to watch him as he perused the choices available to them. He approached their order with the same level of concentration he approached everything. She felt her womb clench in anticipation as she acknowledged he’d applied the same concentration to her and no doubt would again.
She slipped her foot from one expensive high-heeled shoe and slid her foot up the inside of his calf, secure in the knowledge that no one could see her action beneath the floor-length tablecloth. He didn’t so much as flinch, until her toe traced the inside of his thigh—an area she already knew he found incr
edibly sensitive.
His eyes flicked up to hers and in their sherry brown depths she saw raw hunger reflected there.
“I thought you said you were hungry,” Will said, his voice low.
“I am. Very hungry.”
She let her foot travel a little higher, until she felt the hardened ridge of his arousal. She pressed against him, smiling as he shifted slightly in his seat. She felt uncharacteristically powerful. She brought about this reaction in him and now she had his undivided attention.
“Do we have time to eat?” he asked.
“Oh, yes, but let’s make it quick.”
“I promise you, supper will be quick. But as to the rest of the evening…” His voice trailed off as she pressed against him again. “I think I may need to make you pay for this, Margaret Cole.”
“I think I’m up for it,” she teased, smiling back at him. “Are you?”
“As if there’s any question.”
His hand shot under the table and captured her foot, his thumb massaging firmly against the arch. She never knew feet could be such an erogenous zone. She was all but a melted puddle of heat and longing.
He released her foot, giving it a soft pat before gently pushing it away.
“I have something for you,” he said as he reached into the pocket of his jacket.
“No, Will. Seriously, you’ve already given me too much.”
He shook his head. “This is a very necessary part of our agreement, Margaret.”
She stilled. The illusion that she’d foolishly allowed herself to build faded away in increments. She composed herself, damming back the joy she’d indulged in and reminded herself that their whole relationship was merely a pretense.
“Give me your left hand,” he instructed as he flipped open the distinctive blue jewelry box.
She couldn’t see what he hid inside it but held out her hand as he’d asked.
Bought: His Temporary Fiancée Page 7