Nine
A discreetly uniformed driver stood with a card bearing William’s name as they exited the baggage claim area at JFK. Before Margaret realized it, they were being shown into a shining limousine and the car was pulling into traffic leading onto the Van Wyck Expressway.
Will was an excellent guide, noting points of interest as they drove along the expressway. All in all, the trip only took about half an hour and Margaret was totally enchanted as they pulled up outside their stately looking hotel on East 55th Street.
As Will helped her from the car she said, “You have a thing for classic architecture, don’t you? First the hotel in San Diego, and now this?”
“Blame it on my good old Kiwi upbringing.” He smiled in return. “My parents were very much into ensuring we had the necessities as kids, but not luxuries, at least not until we were older and could be relied upon not to break anything. Staying in places like this is one of my indulgences.”
“But don’t you have a home here in New York?”
“An apartment, yes, but since we’re only here for a few nights I didn’t see the point in having it aired and stocked with perishables when we could stay here.”
Margaret nodded. She could see the point in that, but she was curious to see what his residence was like. He let so little of himself out in the course of a day at work, exhibiting only the kind of concentrated control that had sent his reputation ahead of him during the Worth Industries takeover.
Even in bed she’d felt as if he held something back. Not completely surprising, she supposed, when their attraction, on his part at least, was purely physical.
She was distracted from her thoughts as they checked into the hotel and were shown to their suite. Named for one of the original owners of the hotel, the suite was plushly appointed and Margaret could barely stop oohing and ahhing over the furnishings and accoutrements. Will watched her with an indulgent look on his face that made her feel quite naive and inexperienced but, when she thought about it, it would be a sad day for her when such delights became commonplace. As if that was likely to ever happen, she reminded herself as she checked her reflection in the mirror of the opulent marble bathroom. No, she had to make the most of every second of this. Every second with him.
Once she’d freshened up, she and Will rode the elevator back down to the street. There were people everywhere, it seemed—office workers at the end of their day, tourists looking about with the same wide-eyed wonder Margaret knew was on her face.
“How’s your head for heights?” Will asked as he pulled her hand through the crook of his elbow and led her around the corner and onto 5th Avenue.
“I’m okay, why?”
“I thought we’d start your introduction to New York with an overview of the city, from the Empire State Building.”
“Seriously? Is it like they show in the movies?”
“Depends on the movie, I suppose, but yeah. Come on and I’ll show you. What would you prefer, walk or cab?”
“Oh, walk, please.”
“Walk it is, then.”
Margaret was surprised that it took them less than half an hour to reach their destination. All along 5th Avenue her attention had been captured by the amazing storefronts and buildings. After they’d gone through security screening, Will bought their tickets and they followed a group of people to the elevators that would take them up to the 80th floor. Margaret had to hold on to her stomach as the elevator car traveled upward.
“Wow,” she laughed, a little shakily. “That makes the elevators at work seem positively snail-like.”
“There’s one more ride up, to the 86th floor. Unless you’d rather take the stairs?”
“No, I’ll be fine.”
Will smiled back and took her hand as they joined the queue waiting to be shown into the cars that would take them up the tower to the observatory level.
“Oh, my,” she breathed as she and Will left the car and walked out into the viewing area. “I knew it would be something else, but this…this really is something else.” As far as she could see, the city stretched out like a three-dimensional patchwork of color, texture and light interspersed by water and bridges. “It’s so huge.”
“Never fails to take my breath away,” Will commented as he stood close behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.
The warmth of his body against her back was most welcome, almost grounding for her. Just feeling him there behind her gave her a sense of security. Even though they were surrounded by other tourists, all clamoring and pointing as they took in the cityscape spread before them, they could have been completely alone. She leaned back against his solid strength, relishing the moment and tucking it away in a corner of her mind. This experience was something she would never forget in all her days.
In the end, they spent nearly an hour on the viewing deck, looking at the city from all aspects. She’d shuddered as they looked below at the streets teeming with traffic. From up on the observation deck it didn’t seem real, it was as if what happened beneath them was another world completely, one devoid of sound, yet she knew it was completely the opposite.
The sun had begun to set, casting long shadows over the city. Will teased her about wanting to stay until full dark so she could see the city lights spread out like a pirate’s sparkling treasure chest, but the long shadow of the Empire State Building stretching out like a dark finger over the buildings beneath them reminded her that their time together was fleeting and there was still so very much she wanted to experience with Will in his adopted home city.
Will found Margaret’s open enjoyment in New York utterly refreshing. Aside from one moment, shortly before they left the observation deck of the Empire State Building, where she’d suddenly appeared pensive and quiet, she’d displayed an unabashed joy in everything she experienced. Even now she clutched a souvenir pewter replica of the building in her hand, pointing out where they’d stood and watched the city bustle beneath them.
Seeing her like this, so different from the cool composed assistant who worked for him in the office, made him realize just how far he’d pushed her out of her comfort zone with this trip, and it made him want to see more of this side of her. He wanted to be the one to show her more of everything—starting with New York and leading who knew where.
He wondered what she’d think of his parents’ place in Manhattan. His mother was inordinately proud of the brown stone where they lived. She’d always loved being in a busy city, even back home in New Zealand. Suburbia had never really been her thing, but she’d tolerated it so he and his brothers could have a big backyard to play in. Once his brothers had graduated high school, and while he was still attending, they’d moved into a luxury apartment building in Auckland. The eventual move to New York had seen his mother find her spiritual home and she hadn’t been homesick, ever.
Beneath his arm he felt Margaret shiver a little. The evening temperature had dropped, reminding him that while he was quite used to New York’s climate, his West Coast companion was not. The coat she wore did little to cut the chill, so he hailed a cab to take them to their next destination. If she enjoyed the Empire State Building so much, he had no doubt she’d enjoy what he had planned next.
Times Square at night had to be seen to be believed, and if the look of awe on Margaret’s face was any indicator, she was having trouble believing anything anymore.
“What on earth do they do in a power outage?” she asked as she looked from one brilliant display to the next.
Will just shrugged before changing the subject. “Hungry? I know your body clock is probably still on California time, but we missed lunch somewhere along the way and I’m starving.”
“Sure, but nothing fancy, okay?” she insisted.
He knew just the place that would appeal to her. The intimately lit Greek restaurant he frequented in the theater district was the perfect solution to both her tourist instinct and the grumbling hole in his belly. It was inexpensive and casual, and he knew she’d enjoy its atmospher
e, not to mention the highly-rated food. But by the time they’d been seated and enjoyed their entrées he could see she was beginning to droop.
“Don’t tell me you’re getting tired already?” he cajoled.
“It’s all just so much to take in today. So many firsts. Really, you have no idea.”
No, he didn’t. There was so much about Margaret he didn’t know and so much she didn’t know about him, either. Things that might be necessary for them to carry off the dinner at his parents’ tomorrow night. The reminder was sobering.
“Are you up to a little conversation?” he coaxed.
“Sure, what did you want to talk about?”
“Tomorrow evening.”
“Oh, yes. That.” She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “I know you said I should just be ‘me.’ But do you honestly think I’ll be okay? I’m sure I’m nothing like your other wo—”
“You’ll be fine,” he interrupted, not wanting to even think about other women when he was with her. “It won’t be any different than at work. If we stick as close to the truth as possible—meeting at the ball in February, keeping things quiet but that our feelings just overtook us—then they’ll take it hook, line and sinker. Dad might work in finance but he’s an incurable romantic. He’ll be only too happy just to see me engaged.”
“What about your past? You know, school, hobbies, things I should probably know about you.”
“Given that we haven’t known each other that long, I think they’ll be satisfied with what you already know about me. After all, we supposedly have the rest of our lives to get to know one another’s secrets.”
Margaret turned her glass on its coaster, a small frown on her face. “Doesn’t it bother you at all, that we’re lying to them?”
Will stiffened. “It bothers me that I have to,” he said coldly.
Margaret reached out a hand and placed it on his thigh under their table. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad.”
He placed his hand over hers before speaking. “I’m not mad at you. Just angry with the situation. You’re helping me here, and I appreciate it.” He sighed—the sound a short huff of air. “Look, I know we didn’t exactly embark on this in the most friendly or pleasant way, but you’re not unhappy, are you?”
“No, I’m fine. Really. I appreciate that you gave Jason a second chance. I’m just sorry it had to come to that. But as to how things have developed with us, well, I’d prefer to think that’s something separate from what brought us together.” She looked sad for a moment, but then she flicked her gaze up to his—her dark brown eyes glowing warm in her face. “Can we head back to the hotel now?”
Will felt an answering heat spread through his body as he interpreted the look in her eyes. They could continue their talk later. Much later.
In the short cab ride back to their hotel Margaret struggled with her thoughts. All day, Will had been attentive and kind, and she’d allowed herself to once again sink into the fantasy that they were a couple—a real couple. She needed to retrain herself. To stop hoping for what couldn’t be. Talking with him about tomorrow night had forced her to take a reality check. She might not be able to be with him the way she wanted, but she’d take what she could get.
Will tossed the key card onto the side table in the entrance to their suite and closed the door behind her.
“Would you like a drink?” he asked, crossing to the mini-bar.
“No, actually. There’s only one thing I really want right now.”
She closed the distance between them, shrugging off her coat along the way and letting it drop on one of the chairs in the sitting room.
Will smiled at her, a smile that did funny things to her insides and heightened the tightly coiled tension in the pit of her belly.
“Is that right?” he asked, his voice suddenly thick with desire.
“Oh, yes, and I think I know just the man who will give it to me,” she teased as she ran her hands up over his chest.
Beneath the thickness of his sweater she could feel the lean muscle she knew corded his body. She skimmed her hands up to his shoulders before linking her fingers at the back of his head and drawing his face down to hers. Her boldness surprised her, all along in their orchestrated union she’d been the one acted upon. Now it was her turn to take control.
She traced the outline of his lips with the tip of her tongue before pressing her lips to his. His arms banded tight around her, drawing her against his strength, letting her know in no uncertain terms that he wanted her. The knowledge gave her license to do what she wanted and it was a power she relished.
Her entire body vibrated with need for him and she could barely wait to be skin to skin. Reluctantly breaking their embrace, she took his hand and led him to the bedroom where she pushed him, none too gently, onto the luxurious covers. She followed him into the enveloping softness and kissed him again, this time sucking his lower lip into her mouth and laving it with her tongue. He groaned into her mouth, his hands shoving aside her blouse and caressing her back before he skimmed his hands down to palm her buttocks and press her lower body tight against his.
An electric current of sensation shot from her core as she flexed against him, against the hard ridge of his desire for her. Eager to repeat the sensation, Margaret let her legs fall to either side of his and pushed herself upright, leaving only the apex of her thighs connecting with his groin. She looked down at him and smiled.
Will gripped her hips and tilted her against him and she flexed again.
“You’re killing me here,” he growled.
“I know, isn’t it great?” she teased.
Her fingers flew to the buttons of her blouse and one by one she slid them free, before shrugging the garment off her shoulders. She was wearing one of her new bras, one she’d chosen herself with a boldness she’d never indulged in before. She’d never been comfortable with her body, but when she’d tried this bra on she’d felt incredible. The café au lait-colored lace, appliquéd over black satin, appealed to a decadent side of her she’d never really known existed, and the cut was something else—exposing the soft globes of her breasts while barely concealing her nipples.
“Do you like it?” she asked.
Will trailed his fingers across the smooth rounds, his touch sending tiny shocks sizzling through her. When he traced the outside edge of the scalloped lace, his fingertip almost brushed against her nipple and she shivered in delight.
“I like it very much,” Will said, his voice a low rumble. “But I like what’s inside it more.”
Before she could stop him, his hand snaked around to her back and he’d flicked open the clasps. He pulled the confection of satin and lace away from her, exposing her to his ravenous gaze.
“Yes, that’s much better,” he said.
Will jackknifed up from beneath her, cupping her breasts in his hands and burying his face in their fullness. She felt the heat of his breath against her skin and let her head drop back, arching her back so nothing restricted him. He traced the outline of one nipple with his tongue, while gently squeezing the other between one finger and a thumb. Sensation spiraled through her, increasing in intensity as it arrowed to her center. Gone were all feelings of self-consciousness or embarrassment about her body. Instead, all she felt was the overwhelming sense that this was so very right.
And she wanted more of it.
Somehow, through the sensual assault on her senses, she found the capability to reach for the bottom edge of Will’s sweater and began to tug it up over his torso. He reluctantly relinquished her to help her denude him of both his sweater and the shirt he’d worn beneath it. She felt him shudder as she lightly scratched her fingernails across his shoulders and down over his chest.
He pulled her to him and Margaret gasped at the warm shock of his skin against hers. At the delicious pressure of his chest against her breasts. He nipped lightly at the sensitive skin of her neck and she clutched his upper arms in response, her nails digging into him as a sharp, involuntar
y pull from deep inside her swelled and threatened to consume her.
Will peppered her neck and shoulders with fleeting kisses, his hands once again at her breasts. She loved the feel of his strong fingers on her body, loved the way he made her feel.
Loved him.
She might never be able to tell him the truth of her feelings, she realized, but she could show him with every caress, every gesture, exactly how much he meant to her. She put her hands to his shoulders and pushed him backward, tumbling forward onto him as he allowed himself to drop back onto the bed again. Her lips found his and meshed with them, tongues dueling in a sacred dance of mutual worship.
She forced herself to break the kiss, to drag herself upright and to reach for his belt and the fastenings on his jeans. His fingers tangled with hers.
“No, let me,” she bid softly.
His eyes clouded and became heavy-lidded as she undid his jeans, exposing his boxer briefs and the prominent erection that strained against the stretched cotton. She stroked him through the fabric and felt him strain against her fingers. With as much grace as she could muster, she slipped off the bed to her feet and dragged off his boots and socks, then pulled his jeans down and off his long legs before easing his briefs away from his body and tossing them behind her.
He was magnificent. For a moment she just drank in the sight of him lying there on the bed. Hers for the taking. But then need overtook her and she quickly kicked off her shoes and yanked off her socks before shimmying out of her trousers and panties.
Even though it had been only a week since his eyes had feasted upon her naked form, the sheer beauty of her took his breath away again. From the fall of glossy black hair to her creamy shoulders, to the mouthwatering fullness of her breasts. From the smallness of her waist to the very feminine flair of her hips. She was all woman—every delectable inch of her. Would it be like this every time they made love? he wondered fleetingly. This awe and amazement in the perfection of her body?
Bought: His Temporary Fiancée Page 10