by C. J. Thomas
“If this is dinner, I can’t wait to see what dessert’s all about,” I mused, eating with a much lighter heart.
“Oh, I’m in charge of dessert. I think you’ll enjoy it.” I grinned when I saw the look on his face, the light in his eyes.
I’d had something else in mind entirely, of course, but I thought it might be more memorable to do dessert his way.
CHAPTER 30
Aaron
Kenzie had wondered whether we would be able to sleep, thanks to the time difference. The same thought had occurred to me, since we’d slept for hours after having sex this morning. There must have been something in the water, then, because we both slept until the sun was already high in the sky.
I sensed the light in the room while my eyes were still closed. I heard the sounds of the ocean lapping at the beach, leaves blowing in the breeze. Seagulls. The sounds a person only hears when they’re by the sea.
I could wake up every morning to those sounds—while I loved New York and would always want to keep a home there, visiting my cottage in the Azores was always refreshing.
I felt the sleepy weight of Kenzie’s head on my chest and thought I could wake up with her every morning, too. What was happening to me? Me, of all people, wanting to be with a woman. Wanting to make her a part of my life.
I knew I was falling, and hard. So fast, too—it was a surprise to remember we’d known each other for not quite a week.
Had it been such a short time? I counted back in my head. How did I feel like I knew her, then? How was it that I could anticipate her thoughts, her reactions? I’d felt a connection with her the moment I laid eyes on her, and it was almost scary how deep that connection ran. I would never have believed it was possible to feel so strongly after such a short time.
Or ever.
I didn’t know I had it in me.
She stirred, and I waited to see whether she would wake up or go back to sleep. As I watched, her eyes opened. She’d never know how beautiful she was, I thought with wonder.
“Good morning,” she whispered, grinning.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.”
“I guess I was full from all the dessert last night.” I chuckled, kissing the top of her head.
My idea of dessert was tying her to the bed, then blindfolding her before feeding her chocolate-covered strawberries. I’d poured the warm chocolate over her body, licking it off, inch after sweet inch, before taking her until we both screamed out.
A shower had been necessary afterward—especially for her—and we’d done it again in there before returning to bed for one more round.
I could see how she’d be exhausted.
“Yes, my sweet tooth is legendary,” I murmured.
She giggled. I loved the sound of her giggle. With everything going on around me, I needed to hear it.
It only took a few minutes to start thinking about that again. I couldn’t help it, couldn’t forget the hammer hanging over my head. I only waited for it to fall and hoped it fell soon so Patrick and his guys could work things out. I needed it to be over with so I could go back to my life, of which I hoped Kenzie would be a part.
She sat up, tendrils of chocolate brown hair flowing down her smooth back. I ran a hand over her skin, delighting in the way her muscles jumped at the slightest pressure from my fingers. Her body was like an instrument I would never tire of playing. She fascinated me, kept me guessing, kept me intrigued by her changes in mood and temper.
Her bottomless lust held me captive, too. I’d never known a woman like her.
She smiled over her shoulder, then closed her eyes when my fingers lingered at the base of her spine. “Mmm . . .” she sighed, rolling her head on her shoulders as I teased her. “You’re insatiable.”
“You’re one to talk,” I said, leaning over to run a trail of kisses down her spine.
She shivered, whimpering louder the lower I went. I eased her down until she was on her stomach, and pulled the sheets away to admire her perfect body.
“You’re so beautiful,” I murmured, my hands and mouth all over her. She was so smooth, so soft. I couldn’t get enough of the feel of her, the smell, the way she moaned. So quick to respond, so eager for more.
One of my hands slid between her legs, massaging her mound while I kissed the back of her neck. I didn’t miss the way she spread her legs wider, giving me more room.
I slid my free hand beneath her, massaging her breast in time with the strokes across her moist sex. She moaned, rocking her hips, meeting my strokes with her own.
The increasing dampness spoke of her need, and I rose to the challenge. I pulled out a condom in a hurry, now just as eager as she, and we both groaned in deep satisfaction as I buried myself in her.
I stretched out over her, my mouth against the back of her head, driving myself into the center of her heat. She turned her head to the side until our mouths met, and her tongue battled mine as I gave her what we both craved.
I imagined spending every morning like this, making love in a slow, easy way. No urgency other than the urgency we created. I took my time, building her step by step, listening as her cries grew steadily louder.
I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold on and grunted in relief when she started to come all around me, her walls clenching my length.
I let go, then, pounding her until my balls seized against me, then released.
“Oh, wow,” she whispered, still on her stomach. “Was that breakfast? I mean, it was nice, but I’m a little hungry for actual food.”
I had to laugh at her sense of humor. “There’s actual food, or there should be.” I got up, wrapping a sheet around my torso before opening the bedroom door to the hall outside. Sure enough, a cart was waiting, the staff as discreet as always.
“When did that get there?” Kenzie asked, sitting up with wide eyes.
“I don’t know. They’re like ghosts, aren’t they? You’d never know they were here.”
“Do you think they heard us?” she asked, her eyes as big as saucers.
“I don’t think they care either way,” I assured her. “I mean, honestly. Anyone I’ve hired knows not to disturb me when the door is closed,” I reminded her.
She didn’t look convinced, but ate heartily nonetheless. I leaned back against the pillows with a plate of fruit, a croissant, and a cup of coffee.
“This fruit is so good,” she murmured, taking a bite from a slice of melon. “I’ve never tasted anything like it.”
“It’s the soil, the water, the fresh air, the fact that it was probably picked yesterday. Maybe even this morning. It doesn’t get any better than that.” I bit into another piece and could agree with her. Everything tasted better, smelled better, looked better.
“What do you think your girlfriends will say when they know where you’ve been?” I asked.
She chuckled, picking apart a pastry. “They’ll be green with envy,” she said. “I would be, too, if I were them. I mean, things like this don’t just happen to normal people.”
“You’re not a normal person,” I informed her.
“But I am. I hope you realize that.” She looked at me, her gaze frank. “I’m a normal person. I grew up in a working-class family. I never saw the point of fashion or anything like that until I moved to the city, and even then it took me some time. I’m still learning so many things. I mean, you saw the way I reacted to your jet. Could I be any more of a bumpkin?”
I laughed gently. “I wouldn’t call you a bumpkin,” I said. “Maybe innocent, but not a bumpkin.”
“Either way, I’m not in your league. That’s one thing that keeps bothering me. I don’t want you to think I’m better than I am.”
It was my turn to be frank. “I see you for who you are. You’re smart, savvy, hardworking. You do your damnedest, no matter what’s in your way. You’re not somebody to take lightly. That’s what I see.”
She shook her head with a smile. “And I don’t know anything about you,” she said. “I mean, where did you
come from? How did you get where you are? I know you work hard, I know you’re disciplined, and people respect you. You’re an amazing boss. But what else is there? I want to know you. I don’t feel like I do.”
My phone rang, breaking the conversation at just the right point. I didn’t know how much to tell her, or if I was ready to tell her anything at all. My childhood wasn’t something I spoke of often—I usually tried to avoid the topic. I would have to get over it at some point, but this wasn’t the time.
“Bello.” The call came from a New York number, one that I didn’t recognize. I did the math in my head—it would only be around seven in the morning there.
“Aaron? It’s Scott Patterson.” One of the attorneys with Patrick’s firm. “I got in early this morning, and I have to tell you, the first thing I saw was your face on the front page of at least a half-dozen papers at the newsstand.”
“What?” I sat upright, my mood changing in the blink of an eye. “It’s out?”
“Yes. It’s way out.”
“Hang on a second.” I got up, pulled on a pair of shorts and went to the balcony for a little privacy.
I caught a glimpse of Kenzie’s expression as I went—she didn’t know what to think, but there was no way to miss the change in atmosphere.
“What are they saying?” I asked, pacing the length of the balcony. The jade green water, the billowy white clouds against a sapphire sky—it was all lost on me.
“Pretty much the same thing that tabloid spouted off about yesterday. You’re accused of insider trading, and the rest is a lot of speculation as to what this will do to your empire.”
“Holy fuck! Those fucking assholes! I’ll buy every single fucking one of those papers and burn the offices to the fucking ground by the time I’m finished!” I screamed it into the air, venting my rage. I didn’t care who heard me—the staff, even Kenzie. I couldn’t hold back the sheer bloodthirsty rage flowing through me.
I wanted revenge.
And I knew just where to start.
“Sorry about that,” I panted, fists clenched.
“I would feel the same way if I were you,” Scott said. “I know what a pain in the ass this is going to be for you.”
“That’s an understatement,” I said. “It’s gonna be a fucking nightmare. Where the hell do we start? I thought we could get around this, get in front of it.”
“I’m sorry, my friend, but Pandora’s box has been opened and all hell’s already breaking loose. I’ll put a call in to Patrick, make sure he knows about this. In the meantime, and I think I speak for him when I say this, you’d better get your ass back here to manage this from home. Being out there was one thing before it broke, but this is way bigger than anybody anticipated.”
“Yeah. Okay. I’ll do that.” I hung up, my hand shaking. I wished Reed Kingsley was in front of me at that moment so I could strangle him, watch the life drain from his eyes, know that my face would be the last thing he ever saw.
I wanted to end him, pure and simple.
I couldn’t do it that way, sweet as the fantasy was. I had to be smart. It was a game of life-or-death, with everything on the line.
Including Kenzie.
What would I say to her? How could I explain it? What would she think of me? I realized her opinion was one of the few that mattered to me. The rest of the world could fuck itself, as long as I had her beside me.
Would I, though, once she found out what I’d been trying to hide?
CHAPTER 31
Kenzie
We’d been having such a beautiful morning, too. Like something from a dream. He’d been the man I needed him to be, the man I was increasingly sure I was falling for.
From the way he was acting before the phone rang, I thought he might feel the same.
When Aaron got out of bed to continue his call elsewhere, it was like a switch flipped somewhere inside him. He’d gone from the sweet, attentive, romantic man I was falling head-over-heels for, to a tense, angry man ready to explode. I almost breathed a sigh of relief when he pulled on a pair of shorts and stepped onto the balcony leading from the bedroom. The air was so full of rage, I could hardly breathe. Only when he left could I finally take a deep breath.
I couldn’t hear his words through the closed door, but I heard the volume of his voice, the irritation with which he spoke. It made me tremble. He was a man of terrible strength and passion. I’d seen the good side of that so far, the pleasurable side.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to see the dark side.
Was it about the magazine article? I’d learned at a young age to disregard more than half of what I found in trashy tabloids, but Aaron’s attitude left me wondering if his story wasn’t among one of the nuggets of truth such magazines occasionally printed.
Was that what his distance was all about, then? The secrecy when it came to our so-called meeting?
I hadn’t wanted to believe the article when I read it, but it was getting harder to disregard. Did he know someone had caught him doing something illegal? Why else would he lose his mind like this on whatever poor sap had called him?
I wrapped my arms around myself, wondering what it all meant. Would we go back to New York? Would we stay overseas? What would happen when I wanted to go home? Would he let me? What kind of idiot had I been to walk into a trip like this? I’d let him lead me like a lamb to the slaughter, and I wasn’t sure how to get out of it.
It was a long time before the shouting died down. I held my breath when the door opened, and a voice in the back of my head pointed out how scared I was. I didn’t want to be afraid of him, but there was no denying how he made me feel.
Why would I want to be with a man who scared me?
“Who was that?” I dared ask.
I didn’t expect an answer, and I didn’t get one. It was as if I hadn’t said a word.
“Hello?” I asked. “Who was that? What was it all about? Is everything all right?”
“No, everything’s not all right.” He sounded like an enraged animal, a tiger or bear. Instead of turning me on, it turned my blood to ice.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“What could you possibly do?” he spat.
Great. I would have to deal with his nasty attitude again, just because I was the only person around him.
“I thought we just talked about this last night,” I said, sitting up. “Didn’t we? Or did I dream the whole thing?”
“Last night was different. That was before this fucking phone call.” He practically launched his phone onto the bed, making it bounce off and hit the floor.
I flinched, pulling my arms and legs close to my body in a defensive position. I didn’t think he’d ever hurt me, but the level of intensity pouring from him put me on the defensive nonetheless.
“What’s so different now, then? Tell me. Talk to me, dammit. I want to help you!” He wouldn’t look at me, settling for pacing the floor with his hands on top of his head. I felt real fear for the first time since we’d arrived. “Aaron, please. I’m here with you. Why won’t you open up to me?”
“Because it doesn’t concern you,” he fired back.
“It might not have to do with me, but it’s affecting me.” Why was he so stubborn? “You’re not helping your case right now, the way you’re acting.”
“My case?” He stared at me, eyes wide. “What made you say that?”
“What? What is this, The Twilight Zone? It was an expression. You’re telling me this doesn’t concern me, that nothing’s wrong, but you’re acting like a maniac. That’s all I meant.” I had the distinct feeling that I was tap-dancing for my sanity, trying to get him to calm down enough to listen.
I couldn’t calm him, that much was clear, so I had to stay out of his way. I hated feeling like that. I hated the position he put me in.
“Right.” He picked his phone up from the floor, dialing. “Get the jet ready. We’re flying back to New York immediately.”
His back was to me, so he couldn’t see my expressio
n of utter shock. “What?” I didn’t mean to shriek, but there was no other way to vent my shock and frustration.
“We’re going back. Get yourself ready for the flight.”
I looked around, feeling like I’d stepped into an alternate universe. Surely, somebody would come along and explain everything to me. Somebody would take pity on me and clue me in to what was happening. Otherwise, I thought I might go insane.
“How can we leave like this?” I got out of bed, not caring that I was still naked, and followed him around the house. “How can you do this? I thought we were here for a meeting. I thought there was a purpose to all of this. Now we’re leaving? When will you break down and tell me what this is all about?”
“You’ll find out what you need to know when you need to know it.” He threw a wad of cash onto the kitchen counter—a tip, I assumed—making another phone call while he did so.
“Patrick? Yeah, we have to go back. I know. I just talked to him.” Who the hell was Patrick? I could have wept with frustration, with the feeling that nobody cared what I thought or felt.
I was nothing to him, absolutely nothing at all. A plaything. He’d greatly underestimated me if he thought I would take it lying down.
I stormed upstairs, dressing as quickly as I could. Was I allowed to take things home with me? After all, they’d been purchased with me in mind. I thought whoever bought them might make use of them, or might give them to someone else.
That was the world Aaron lived in.
Everything and everybody was disposable.
It didn’t matter that he’d dropped a small fortune on clothing, toiletries, even the food in the kitchen that would go uneaten by us. It was a drop in the bucket. I snarled at the thought.
Could I ever have thought I was falling for him?
There was one good thing about leaving: I could go home and get my head screwed on straight before starting another week tomorrow morning. I didn’t have to worry about him stranding me in Portugal without even my passport—I still wasn’t certain how he’d managed our admission to the country.