by Unknown
“He loved you and Zach, but he had high standards and business was important,” Joann told her.
Paige realized for the first time how difficult it must have been for her mother not to defend her children because of her husband’s business. “Mother.” Paige went into mother’s arms, hugging her. “I do love you.”
“I know.” Joann hugged Paige back. “But it’s good to hear it. Now you better go. Shane is waiting.”
Paige blushed. “I’m not sure how long we’ll be.”
“Take as long as you want, and don’t worry about dinner,” her mother assured her. “I’ve drunk enough tea and nibbled enough not to want anything else tonight. Macy left lasagna on the island and salad in the refrigerator.”
“Thank you. Good night.”
“Good night, Paige.”
Paige watched her mother climb the stairs. She still carried secrets, nothing was settled between them, but for tonight things were better than they had been in a long, long time. For now, that was enough.
His gaze trained on the terrace door, Shane sat cross-legged on the grass outside one of the dozen or so thematic garden rooms on the grounds of the estate. Paige and her mother were both coming into their own. About time.
He’d heard the threats of the two women and planned on making a phone call tonight to ensure that Mrs. Albright would be treated with the respect she deserved. Her husband might not have used his wealth to defend her and her children, but Blade and Daniel would have no such problem.
Powerful men made powerful enemies. Mrs. Osgood and Mrs. Franklin were about to learn that lesson, and so would any other woman who threatened the Albrights. Tread lightly or suffer the consequences.
Paige stepped through the terrace door and paused. She had a death grip on the white towel thrown over her right shoulder, her lips tucked between her teeth.
She was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen, so perfectly proportioned. The black top cupped her small breasts the way he yearned to do, bared the enticing indentation of her navel where he planned to dip his tongue. Her legs were slender, shapely. It didn’t take much to imagine them wrapped around his waist as he surged into her moist heat.
Shane closed his eyes, drew in a breath, let it out slowly. He’d worn a long T-shirt and sweatpants to help hide his unruly body, but nothing would help if he didn’t get his mind under control. When he opened them again, Paige hadn’t moved.
She was nervous, but she had to get over that and come to him. The workout outfit she wore probably wasn’t helping. Paige dressed conservatively. Baring, revealing clothes weren’t her thing. She was too conscious of trying to fit in, of failing, of wanting to be liked. He closed his eyes again, took a deep breath.
Come on, Paige, you can do this.
Opening them again, he saw her walking slowly toward him, no longer gripping the towel. He let his gaze hungrily sweep over her, leaving no doubt that he found her desirable. She moistened her lips, but she didn’t tuck her head.
“Have a seat.”
She dropped gracefully to the mat, then crossed her legs, their knees almost touching. “I thought you were going to teach me to be less of a cowar—” She stopped when his gaze narrowed. “Be more assertive.”
“I am. It starts with the mind,” he told her. “Unless you believe in yourself, believe you can defeat your opponent, you never will.”
“We might be sitting here a long time,” she quipped.
“If I believed that, I wouldn’t waste my time,” he said, staring straight at her. “You fight for others; you can fight for yourself.”
She jerked the towel off her shoulder. “It’s easier for me that way. Always has been.”
“Because you care,” he said. “You know how it feels not to belong, just as I do.” He could see her retreating until the last four words.
She leaned toward him, bumping their knees. “You said you weren’t in foster care.”
“I wasn’t,” he said, trying not to let the bitterness heat his temper. If he had to bare his soul to help Paige, so be it. “My parents, and I use the term loosely, thought their job was done once I was old enough to walk. I raised myself. Worked from the time I was nine, selling cans to earn money for clothes and food. And they always wanted a share.”
“Shane.” Her voice quivered as much as her hand on his thigh.
“Once you’ve been down that low, the only way to go is up,” he told her.
“Crap.” She leaned over and took one of his balled fists in her hands. “We both know the way you chose was the hardest. If I have to stop being a wimp, you have to stop talking nonsense.”
“My champion,” he teased, a weight lifting off his chest. He should have known better. Paige cared about the person.
“You’ve been mine enough times,” she said and then, as if realizing how close they were, she released his hand and leaned back.
Shane let her retreat. For now. “Every time you think of stepping back, don’t. It’ll take time but soon it will become second nature.”
“The way it is for you,” she said.
“Yes.”
Her expression grew serious. “I want that, but I don’t want to hurt people’s feelings.”
“They don’t mind hurting yours or using you,” he said tightly. “Let them, and they’ll continue.”
She slowly nodded. “All right. I’m ready.”
“Close your eyes.” He waited until she complied, then said, “Think of something or someone that will make you stop pulling back.”
Her face curved into a beautiful smile. “Got it.”
“Paige, the image is supposed to be one that will inspire you.”
“I know.” Her expression didn’t change.
Suspicion entered his mind. “It wouldn’t happen to be a person you’re thinking about, would it?”
She blinked one eye open. “Might be.”
He shook his head and stood to his feet. “Open your eyes and stand.”
Paige unfolded her legs and pushed upward. “What’s next?”
“If the occasion arises that you have to protect yourself, I want you to know how. A knee is good in close contact, but that might not always be the case.” For this, he’d have to touch her, danger and pleasure all in one. “If someone reaches for you, use their momentum to push them away from you and, when they turn, hit the bridge of their nose with the heel of your palm as hard as you can. Reach for me, and I’ll show you.”
She hesitated, chewed on her lower lip.
“I won’t hurt you,” he assured her.
“It never crossed my mind that you would.” She shifted from one foot to the other.
“Find the image, and come for me.”
The words had no more left his mouth than she lunged. He gently tapped her shoulder instead of hitting her. She whirled. His hand came up, shooting over her head. She didn’t stop as he expected. She barreled into him. His other arm came around her bare waist, dragging her to him, her breasts flattened against his chest, his mouth hovering seductively close to hers. “You were supposed to stop.”
“Guess I forgot,” she said, her voice breathless.
He wanted to forget, to kiss the moist, tempting lips so close to his. He didn’t dare. One kiss would never be enough. Of that he was certain. He wanted too badly to drag sweet moans from her, to feel her tremble in his arms.
Slowly he released her, saw the disappointment in her face, which mirrored his own. This might be the toughest training session he had ever conducted.
Paige accepted that she was no Wonder Woman two minutes into the hand-to-hand combat session. Stepping out of the shower later that night, she dried and put on her pajamas. He had the most beautiful body. He was grace in motion, while she was clumsy, forgetful. His fault.
With his arms wrapped around her or his eyes staring into hers, her brain short-circuited. At least the other safety tips, like not leaving a building unless her car keys were in her hand in order to quickly get into the car or use on an a
ssailant, or keeping a spare set of keys in the kitchen, she remembered.
Once finished with the session, they’d eaten the lasagna and salad in the kitchen. It had been relaxing instead of tension-filled as her time with Russell was becoming. Although her hormones went crazy around Shane, it was an exciting crazy. She was acutely alive around him, as if she had waited her entire life for him to find her and free her emotions, enthrall her body.
Grabbing her laptop from her desk, she climbed into bed and turned it on to check her e-mail. There would probably be several from Russell. He always expected her to answer immediately. Since she checked e-mail frequently, she usually did. Today she had other things, rather more specifically another man, on her mind.
Russell’s mother’s presence that afternoon, and her gossipy nature, might have unknowingly done Paige a favor. Mrs. Crenshaw probably couldn’t wait to tell her only child and son how out of character and trashy Paige was acting. Paige grinned. This was just the beginning. She hadn’t gotten the kiss she so desperately wanted from Shane, but she would.
Scrolling through her e-mails she saw at least five messages from Russell. All marked urgent. She moved the cursor to delete, then decided to read the last one. By the end of the e-mail she was steaming. He’d crucified Shane and continued his tirade on how gullible and inept she was.
“Crap,” she said aloud. Who did he think he was! She’d give him a piece of her mind that would make his hair curl. She was tired of being nice. Nice had gotten her squat!
The phone rang just as she moved the cursor to hit REPLY. She lifted her hand, hoping it was Russell or his nosy mother calling. Angrier than she ever remembered being, she rolled, reaching for the phone on the bedside. The laptop slid off her lap. Screaming, she frantically grabbed for it.
And missed.
She cringed on hearing the whack as it hit the hardwood floor. Scrambling out of bed, she picked up the computer just as the phone stopped ringing. Opening the top that had slammed shut, praying as she did.
The screen was black.
Chapter 12
Clutching the computer, Paige hung her head. All the data for the Masquerade Ball had been on this laptop. There was no way she could recall all the names or, more important, the amount of each contribution, the corporate donors.
She was screwed. She’d—Shane. His name and image popped into her head.
Surging to her feet, she clutched the computer to her chest, took two steps before she recalled that the connection line to the telephone jack was still plugged in. Placing the laptop on the bed, she took off running and didn’t stop until she stood in front of Shane’s door.
She rapped, called his name. “Shane!”
The door swung open. “Paige, what’s the matter?”
Her hand froze in midair. Her breath snagged. Her brain fuzzed. She opened her mouth but nothing came out . . . and no wonder.
Shane wore only snug-fitting jeans. His magnificent chest was bare. Lord, he was built. Well-defined muscles delineated his wide chest, then flared to a flat stomach before disappearing into his jeans. Her fingers actually tingled with wanting to touch his, glide over his taut skin.
“Paige?” he questioned, reaching out to take her arm.
The contact jarred her senses. She swallowed, swallowed again. “I need you,” she blurted, then rushed on as his eyes blazed. “I dropped my computer,” she clarified.
“Let me get my shirt and shoes.”
“Please come now.” She grabbed his hand and raced back to her room. This was no time to let her hormones run wild. “You have to help me.”
“What about your backup file? Zip drive?” he asked, following her into her room.
She wildly shook her head. “I don’t have either of those.”
“You don’t have—Where is it?”
She went to the bed, picked it up, and gently handed it to him. “Please. All the data for the Masquerade Ball is on this computer.”
He hit the power button. The screen remained blank. He looked back at her. “I need to get a tool kit and some other things out of my room. I’ll be back.”
“Do you… do you think you can fix it?” she asked.
He swept his hand up and down her trembling arm. “I’m going to do my best. I won’t be but a minute.”
True to his word, he was back shortly. Paige noted he’d pulled on a shirt, but hadn’t taken time to button it, and he remained shoeless. The man even had sexy feet, long and narrow. Taking the computer from her, he crossed his long legs, sat down, turned it over, and began to take the back off, placing the screws and guts on a page of newspaper he’d brought back with him.
All Paige could do was watch and pray. She marveled that he appeared to have no difficulty handling the tiny screws with his large hands, and that he never paused. It was as if he had done this a thousand times, then she realized he probably had. Head bent in concentration, he had the determined look of her Black Knight. He was certainly built like one. Smooth golden skin rippled over corded muscles as he worked.
Paige licked her lips, then wickedly wondered what he’d do if she had the courage to lick him.
“How did this happen?” he asked without lifting his head.
With difficulty she pushed Shane’s magnificent chest and her forbidden fantasies from her mind. “I reached for the phone. The laptop was in my lap,” she said, angry at herself for forgetting.
“You aren’t that careless or the clumsy type,” he said, never pausing as he lifted something—she didn’t know what—out of the laptop.
She couldn’t stick to the lie she thought of telling. How could she when Shane made her feel as if she could do anything, be anything? “I’d just finished reading an e-mail from Russell when the phone rang on the night table. I thought it was him calling. I was so angry I reached for the phone without thinking.”
His head came up. Dark eyes stared at her intently. “Must have been some e-mail.”
She gritted her teeth. “It was.”
Down went his head again as he laid more of the laptop parts on the newspaper. “What he thinks or says doesn’t matter.”
“He made me angry, and now I might have messed up the biggest fund-raiser of the year for the foundation.”
“I see you forgot rule number three about finding your center.”
“Then, but not later.”
His head came up again.
“You’re here,” she said softly.
His eyes darkened. “You make me—”
“What?” she asked, leaning toward him in blatant invitation. She wanted his mouth on hers. She wanted his kiss.
Down went his head again. “Stop distracting me.”
She grinned like a loon. Imagine her distracting a man like Shane. Then she saw her poor laptop and her smile died.
“Stop clenching your hands,” he said, examining a specific part of the computer. “You’re forgetting all the rules.”
Paige uncurled her hands. She’d stopped being surprised that Shane was so aware of his surroundings, aware of her. “I might forget the rules, but not the man who taught them to me, the man who makes me believe.”
His hand flexed on the tiny screwdriver. “Paige.” There was a warning in his voice.
“Positive thoughts,” she said, her smile returning.
Paige was a distraction and a delight. Shane was becoming too used to both. She’d moved from in front of him to beside him as he reassembled the computer, bringing with her the sweet fragrance that always lingered on her. She was a temptation that he was tired of fighting.
He might have bent a lot of rules in his day, but jumping the daughter of the woman you were asked to help, with her only a few doors down, was too far on the wrong side.
“I bet it’s fixed this time.”
Shane tightened the last screw before he lifted his head. This was the third try. She scooted closer each time, showing her distress, and also her confidence in him. If it took all night he was going to repair the computer. “O
ne way to find out.” He hit the on button.
Paige leaned closer, her hand clamped on his thigh, leaning closer at the familiar flash of light, the sound of the system booting up. One by one her icons popped up.
He placed the laptop in her lap. “Check your files.”
She hesitated for a moment, then moved her finger over the pad to open the file. masquerade ball came up. Silently she scrolled down to the end of the page, then she closed her eyes.
“Is it all there?”
Carefully, she placed the laptop on the floor and launched herself into his arms. He could have stopped the momentum of their bodies, but it was no more than a passing thought after her lips touched his. He landed with his back on the Oriental rug, Paige sprawled on top.
Desire exploded. His arms wrapped around her, dragging her closer, taking the kiss from sweet to hot and hungry in a heartbeat.
His tongue delved into her mouth, greedy and insistent, claiming her. Her tongue eagerly met his as she clung to him. His blood heated. The mating of their tongues was like nothing he had ever experienced before—fierce, passionate, intense. It was as if he had been waiting his entire life for this one kiss, this one very special woman.
He had to touch her. His hands roamed over the gentle slope of her slim back, her firm hips, and stayed there. She was as perfect in his arms as he’d imagined, dreamed. Before temptation caused him to press her against his thick arousal, his hands moved upward.
One temptation he couldn’t resist. He slipped his hands under the soft white top and felt warm, bare skin from her shoulders to the soft swell of her hips. He’d never felt anything softer or been tempted more. He caught back a moan of pure pleasure. The softness of her yielding body and the intoxicating sweetness of her mouth were almost his undoing.
Need slammed into him. He ached for release. She tested his control as no woman ever had, teased his senses to the breaking point.
If he didn’t stop now, he wouldn’t until he’d made her his. Reaching for his own center, his own control, he set her away from him, watched her eyes slowly open, felt himself harden even more at the unquenched desire in their gray depths, to be replaced by uncertainty as she realized she was sprawled wantonly on top of him, his body hard and ready for hers.