To Win Her Smile

by Mackenzie Crowne

  Though she’d left herself plenty of time, she had some difficulty locating the gate in the corporate terminal at LaGuardia. A helpful airport employee eventually directed her to an unmarked door at the far end of the building. Upon entering the posh waiting room, Piper worried she’d read the information incorrectly—until a uniformed employee greeted her.

  The thin blonde wore a welcoming smile. “Good afternoon, Miss Duchess. If you’ll follow me, Mr. Hunter is waiting for you on board.”

  Miss Duchess? Piper choked, turning her laugh into a cough. Oh, you’re a clever bounder, aren’t you?

  Shaking her head, she clamped down on the helpless grin that threatened and followed the woman past several well-appointed seating areas, complete with four welcoming couches, a half-dozen recliners separated by privacy walls, and a full bar. Exiting the building, they traveled down a jet bridge that opened onto the tarmac. A large SUV with heavily tinted windows waited outside. The driver’s door opened as they approached, and a bulky man in a dark suit, looking more like a bodyguard than a chauffeur, greeted her.

  “If you’re ready, Miss Duchess?” He held out his hand for her carryon bag.

  Oh, for heaven’s sake.

  She did grin this time, couldn’t help herself, and handed over her bag. He opened the back door and she slid inside. She’d barely had time to appreciate the fine leather seats and interior before the vehicle stopped and the door opened once more. Placing her fingers into the chauffeur’s large hand, she was assisted from the vehicle, then blinked at the small streamlined jet idling on the tarmac in front of her.

  “Miss?” Mr. Bodyguard-Chauffeur turned to address her when she remained where she was instead of following him to the stairs at the rear of the plane.

  He held out his hand and she hurried forward, preceding him up the steps. She stopped short just inside the door, and he tucked her carryon into a small closet to her right.

  “Enjoy your flight, miss,” he said before leaving her alone.

  She glanced around and had to lock her jaw to keep her mouth from dropping open. Had she thought the private waiting area posh? Good Lord! The jet was glitzier than a lot of the five-star hotels she’d visited back when she’d had the wherewithal to do so.

  “Right on time,” Wyatt announced, and she jumped.

  He moved toward her from the front of the plane and she lifted her chin. “I promised I would be.” She pinned him with a squint. “Really? Miss Duchess?”

  His dimples flashed with his grin. “I’m keeping your name to myself unless absolutely necessary…as requested.”

  She pressed her lips together to squelch her threatening laughter, but failed. “You consider yourself quite clever, I’m sure.”

  He bumped his brows in a jaunty waggle, then stood idle as she surveyed the high-end materials and furnishings in the private jet’s long, narrow fuselage. She ran her fingertips over the glossy teak-wood table fronted by four large captain’s chairs, then tested the springs of the wide couch with a couple presses of her hand.

  She straightened and eyed him in a sidelong glance. “Swanky.”

  He chuckled. “Glad you like it. It folds out into a king-sized bed.”

  Her gaze jerked back to the couch as a flash fire of heat warmed her from the inside out. Bloody hell. She hadn’t expected sleeping with Wyatt would grant her entrance into the mile-high club, but…. She eyed the dozen empty seats lining the fuselage.

  Well, bother. She might be determined to get Wyatt Hunter naked before the night was done, but sex with an audience wasn’t her style.

  “We’ve been cleared for takeoff, Wyatt.”

  A disembodied male voice spoke from above. She lifted her gaze to the ceiling and searched for the invisible speakers. There were none that she could discern.

  Wyatt pivoted and walked several feet away. He cued a button on a console beside a second couch at the very front of the plane. “Ready when you are, Curtis.” He turned to face her. If the heat in his eyes was any indication, he knew the exact direction in which her mind had been traveling—and approved.

  His smile came slow. “Have a seat and buckle up.”

  Swallowing, she glanced around at the various options. “Where?”

  He propped his hands on his hips and held her gaze. “Wherever you want.”

  “Oh.” She blinked. “There are no other passengers?”

  “Not tonight. Tonight, it’s just you and me.”

  She shifted her gaze between him and the closed door of the cockpit, then on to the couch. When she met his gaze once more, his eyes were fired with male interest, but he didn’t say a word.

  It was just as well. If she was only to have one night with him, she didn’t want it limited by a takeoff and landing. She searched about for a neutral topic. “I didn’t see any markings on the outside. Does the plane belong to the Marauders?”

  “Nope.”

  “A charter?” Cody had been a gold star client of a London-based charter service.

  Wyatt shook his head.

  She chewed her bottom lip. “I don’t suppose a wealthy friend was kind enough to lend it to you?”

  His widening smile spoke volumes.

  “Of course. You own your own plane. What was I thinking?”

  With a self-derisive smirk, she slid into the closest seat and pushed the seatbelt’s components together until they locked. He paused at her side and she glanced up, but had no time to prepare as he bent over her and covered her mouth with his. An increasingly familiar weakness flooded her limbs, and she thrilled at his lovely exploration. A gentle nip, a teasing suckle, the quick thrust of his tongue, and then… She bit down on a whimper of disappointment when he straightened away from her.

  The satisfaction in his smile was in direct contrast to the heated arousal darkening his eyes. He turned toward the back of the plane, and she fought the urge to fan herself. Good Lord, the man knew what he was about in the kissing department, and the bounder knew it. Craning her neck, she followed his movements as he continued beyond the open seat to her left and chose a seat two rows back from her. The engines revved and the plane began to move.

  She shifted her gaze to the empty seat separating them and back, then rolled her lips together against a laugh. “Let me guess. Separate rows?”

  Silent laughter sparkled in his eyes as he nodded. “Your wish is my command, duchess.”

  Chapter 12

  Piper blinked through the rails of the tall wrought iron gate. A large Victorian-style home sat at the end of a curving drive. To the right of the house, attached by a covered breezeway, was a huge five-bay garage.

  So much for checking into a hotel for the evening. Obviously, with Wyatt, making assumptions was a foolish endeavor.

  “Is this your father’s home?”

  Dear Lord, please say no. Please. Say no.

  “Nope.”

  The breath she held released in a rush. Thank you, God!

  Wyatt punched numbers into a security panel mounted in a column of the massive brick wall surrounding the property. “My father lives in the governor’s mansion, which is where his press announcement will be held in the morning.” The gate swung open, and he drove the SUV that had awaited them upon arrival at the airport in Oklahoma City around the curve of the drive. “This is Megan’s place.”

  Bugger! Spending the night at Megan’s wasn’t much better than if they were to check in at the governor’s mansion. The odds were slim Megan Hunter would approve of the two of them sharing a bed in her home.

  Piper swallowed as he thumbed the screen of his phone and the far left garage door slid open. “Are you sure a hotel wouldn’t be a better choice? I’m not blind, Wyatt. Your sister was none too pleased to meet me the other night.”

  “My sister’s attitude had nothing to do with you. Now that she’s had a few days to process Dad’s announcement,
she’ll be a lot less stressed.” He guided the SUV into the empty bay. “Besides, hotels have staff.” Shifting into park, he cut the engine. The cheep cheep of crickets in the distance was the only sound as he turned to meet her gaze in the glow of the dashboard lights. “Staff with Facebook and Instagram accounts. The press will be expecting me to show up in town. It’ll be easier to keep your name quiet if there aren’t pictures of the two of us checking into the Colcord Hotel downtown.”

  “Good point.” And one she should have considered herself, but damn. It looked as if Karma had spoken. Their “when” wasn’t to be. Unless… She tossed out one last appeal and hoped Karma had a romantic side.

  “Still, maybe we should chance it. It’s, um, rather late to be arriving at someone’s home unannounced, don’t you think?”

  “They’re expecting us. In fact, I’ll bet you a thousand dollars my sister is frantically pacing the floor, afraid I won’t show.”

  With a deflated sigh, she nodded and unclipped her seatbelt. He stopped her from reaching for the door handle by cupping her shoulder in his palm. “Hey. You wouldn’t be here if I thought your presence would be an issue. It’ll be fine. I promise.”

  “I know. It’s just…”

  “Just what? Talk to me, duchess.”

  Now or never, Piper. If you want your one night with him, you’re going to have to spell it out.

  She swallowed. “Well, you see, it’s…” She lowered her gaze to her hands. “I’ve been thinking, and… Well, after tomorrow, things will change.”

  His hand dropped from her shoulder. “You can count on it.”

  Her gaze jerked to the rigid line of his jaw as he stared through the windshield at the wall of the garage. Caught up with what Richard Hunter’s announcement would mean to her and her romantic plans, she hadn’t truly considered how drastic the change would be for Wyatt on a personal level. She, of all people, knew what it was like to be chased down by reporters hungry for a story, but her nightmare with the press had been relatively short-lived. Wyatt had dealt with the hunger his whole life but, starting tomorrow, the feeding frenzy would be taken to a whole new level.

  She slid her hand over the tightened muscles of his forearm and squeezed. “I’m sorry, Wyatt. I know this can’t be easy for you. Any of it.”

  “Comes with the territory.” He turned his head and, with a toss of his shoulder, the tension slid from his face. He lifted his hand and cupped her jaw. “You said you’ve been thinking? About us, I hope.”

  His boyish smile eased some of her tension, but not enough.

  “Actually, we are exactly what I’ve been thinking about and, the thing is, with the intensified scrutiny that’s about to be unleashed…”

  He brushed his thumb over her cheek when she stumbled to a stop. “Did I tell you how beautiful you were the other day when you came in my arms?”

  Damp heat. Fire licking at her core.

  “Wyatt, you shouldn’t say things like that.” Was that her voice? All breathy and soft?

  He shifted, bending to nuzzle the spot where her neck and collarbone met. “Why not?”

  She cleared her throat. “Because it doesn’t help me remember what I’m trying to say.”

  “Am I making you hot?” He breathed against her skin, lips nibbling the tender tendon leading to her ear.

  She arched her neck to give him better access. “I’m burning.”

  “Then I am too helping.” He chuckled quietly. “Burning’s good.” He gently closed his teeth on her earlobe and she gasped. Leaving a trail of sipping kisses over her cheek, his warm breath bathed her lips as his mouth hovered above hers. “What are you trying to say, duchess?”

  If he kissed her now, she’d be doomed. Her brain would be mush and she’d never say what needed to be said. Trouble was, she was already too far gone to recall the specifics of her renegotiation. All she could think was one word. It spilled from her lips like a plea.

  “When.”

  Everything ceased. The cheeping of the crickets. Her heartbeat. The blood pumping through her veins. But, mostly, the heavy rush and pull of his breath across her face.

  He stared at her as the moment stretched. “Did you say…when?”

  She’d deal with renegotiations later. All she could manage was a nod.

  His kiss was hard and swift. Before she’d even gotten the taste of him he’d pulled back. “You sure know how to grab a man’s attention, duchess.” His grin was blinding. “Let’s go.” With one more quick kiss, he left her swaying in her seat as he opened his door.

  The dome light flashed on and jerked her mind back from hazyville. “Wait. What about your sister?”

  “Shit.” He paused halfway out the door, then shook his head. “With a little luck, she’ll be asleep.”

  He slid from the vehicle and she followed suit.

  Asleep? Now who wasn’t thinking clearly? Not two minutes ago, he’d bet her a thousand dollars his sister would be pacing the floors.

  Plucking both of their overnight bags from the back seat, he directed her toward a door. It opened onto the breezeway, leading to a small, lattice-enclosed patio off the back of the house. She slowed her steps as they approached a set of French doors. Light came from somewhere inside.

  He swore beneath his breath, but produced a key and let them inside. Gripping her elbow, he prodded her forward, ushering her through a cozy den to the doorway of a large country kitchen. He tugged her to a stop and she couldn’t suppress her charmed sigh. Traditional materials mixed with old to produce a warm and welcoming room. Exposed ceiling beams, dark granite countertops, and a long, rustic wood table offset the cream cabinets and stainless appliances.

  Recessed lighting illuminated the large island at the center of the room where an older woman perched on one of four stools. She sat with her back to them, sipping from a teacup. Plump and round, she wore a thick white robe with bright red cherries on the collar and belt. Her black hair was generously streaked with gray and twisted in a loose braid running down her back. A thin cord ran from the small black device at her elbow to the buds inserted in her ears.

  Shrugging the strap of his carryon from his shoulder, Wyatt quietly placed their bags on the counter to their left. Cupping Piper’s cheek, he lifted her face to brush a soft kiss across her mouth. He straightened, winked, and pressed a fingertip to his lips.

  He’d taken the two long strides needed to reach the island before Piper realized what he was about. She opened her mouth, but was too late to stop him from startling the poor woman. Bending at the waist, he pressed a kiss to her neck, then straightened away before her flailing arms could do any damage.

  A lightning fast spate of what Piper recognized as Spanish filled the air as the woman jolted. Yanking the buds from her ears, she twisted her head around, then spun to face him on the stool. She slapped a hand to her ample chest and the emotion in her wide, dark eyes ran the gamut from fear, to admonishment, to relief, before morphing into excited pleasure.

  “Wyatt,” she said in a thickly accented voice. “Meg, she says you come, but I don’t believe her.”

  Pure affection gleamed in his eyes. “Rosa, my love. You know I could never stay away from you.”

  “Ha.” She poked him in the chest with a stiff finger. “Six months, you don’t come home to visit your love, Rosa.” Her dark-eyed gaze skipped beyond him to land on Piper. “And I see why.” She faced him again with raised brows and a delighted smile. “Muy bonita, mijo.”

  With a laugh, he turned and draped an arm around Rosa’s shoulders. “Piper Darrow, this is Rosa Fuentes. I’ve been in love with her since I was four years old and she took on the job of head monkey keeper at the Hunter Zoo.”

  Rosa jabbed an elbow into his side, eliciting a grunt and a grin.

  “Okay. Nanny.”

  Rosa sniffed. “Ach. Don’t listen to him, Piper. This one, he is a,” he
r forehead wrinkled in thought, “how do you say, rascal?”

  Piper laughed and shot Wyatt a she’s-got-you-pegged smirk. “Rascal sounds about perfect.”

  “Smartass.” His squinted warning couldn’t hide his pleasure as he looked at Rosa. “Where’s Meg? I expected her to be waiting out at the gate.”

  “She is upstairs with Miss Mandy. Our bebe is not feeling well.”

  Concern flashed in his eyes. “What’s wrong with her? Has her doctor been called?”

  “Sí, mijo.”

  He shot a quick glance at the ceiling. “And?”

  “For now, it is a simple cold,” Rosa was quick to reassure, “but you know how she is. She wants her mama when she is sick.”

  Wyatt’s gaze briefly flicked Piper’s way. “How is Tonya? Is she ill, too?”

  Rosa’s eyes widened and the horror in them made the hairs on Piper’s arms stand on end. Wyatt’s old nanny was quick to answer his question. “Oh, Tonya, she is fine. She is just worried about the bebe like the rest of us.”

  “Good.” The glance he turned Piper’s way was strained and oddly detached. “I’d like to check in on Mandy. I won’t be more than a few minutes.”

  “Of course.” Piper nodded.

  He smiled, but the concern hadn’t leaked from his eyes as he turned to Rosa. “I’d planned to put Piper in the yellow bedroom. Would you mind showing her up?”

  “Not at all, mijo.” She made a shooing motion with her hands. “Go. I take care of tu señora.”

  Without a word, he pivoted toward the other end of the kitchen. Piper frowned as he opened an inner door and stepped inside what looked to her like a pantry, then was gone. She glanced at Rosa to find her smiling.

  “The house is old with many surprising passages.” She indicated the closet where Wyatt had disappeared. “In days past, the servants used the stairs leading to the third floor. Meg and Tonya’s apartments are there now. Wyatt’s rooms are on the second floor.”

  Wyatt’s rooms?

  Rosa shuffled to the counter and picked up Piper and Wyatt’s bags.