The Tycoon's Temptation (HQR Silhouette Desire)

by Katherine Garbera

  “Hey, they’re getting ready to cut the cake,” someone called from the doorway.

  Preston pulled back, aware that he was riding the razor’s edge. He wouldn’t take her in his arms again and not make love to her.

  He put his hand on her back and directed her toward the hall. The music grew louder, and he heard laughter from the open windows. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  “Are you okay, Preston?”

  “We need to talk tonight.”

  “Okay,” she said, and she walked away. He took his time following her. Making sure he didn’t get back in the hall until after the dancing had started up again. He didn’t want to see what Lily wanted in life. Didn’t want to acknowledge what he knew deep in his soul—that she deserved her Prince Charming. She deserved her wedding and her groom, and he wasn’t the man for either of those roles.

  Lily leaned dreamily against the plush leather seat as Preston piloted the car through the late-evening traffic. It grew increasingly heavy as they neared the city. New Orleans never slept, and for once Lily didn’t want to, either.

  Her body still pulsed in time to the Cajun music from the reception. Her mind still dwelled on the fantasy of herself as bride and her groom none other than her sophisticated companion tonight. She hummed a nameless tune.

  She slipped a CD she’d given him into the player. A Lena Horne disc of love songs. The sweet and sometimes bittersweet lyrics brushed over her aroused senses like moonlight on the ocean. She turned to her side, watching Preston in the flickering light provided by the passing streetlamps. He looked alone and aloof.

  She wanted to penetrate the aura of loneliness that surrounded him, but how could she. How could she? She wasn’t sure of anything any longer, especially love. Never had she backed down from anything in her life. Never had she had so much at stake, and for the soul of her she couldn’t be sure of winning.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked, his voice a husky rasp.

  “Can I drive your car?” she asked, not wanting to open up her soul to him tonight. On the dance floor he’d felt like Prince Charming and she’d known exactly how Cinderella felt but now she wasn’t so sure.

  “Not tonight,” he said, with a wry chuckle.

  “No, not tonight,” she agreed. She still had a pleasant buzz from the reception and the alcohol she’d consumed.

  “Are these new CDs helping you to believe in love?” she asked.

  He glanced at her as he coasted to a halt for a red light. “I wish they were.”

  “Don’t you feel seduced by the promise of love?”

  “Not especially.”

  “What would it take to seduce you, Preston?”

  She watched him closely. She wanted him: his hard body and supple strength; his cold gray eyes sweeping over her feminine body; his warm touch spreading over her and bringing to life longings that only he could fill.

  He pulled into her drive and turned off the engine. Her house, draped in darkness, should have been forbidding, but it looked the way it always did—a safe haven. She’d never ventured from her safe neighborhood. Part of her had longed to when she was younger, but as an adult she knew she never would.

  The CD continued to play. Lena sang “At Long Last Love.” This song broke her heart. Lily didn’t want to listen to it because sometimes she felt as if this might be her. Searching fruitlessly for something ephemeral that she’d never find.

  “Invite me in and I’ll tell you,” Preston said.

  Tell me what? she thought. Then she remembered. He’d tell her what it took to seduce him. She had bought a book of quotes the other day and planned to inundate him with words on the subject but not tonight. To bring love to his life she knew she’d have to risk herself, and suddenly the risk seemed worth the pain that might come.

  “Come in?” she asked, teasing him with a look from under her lashes. She knew then that she wanted to be seduced. That she wanted him to deliver on the forbidden treasures his kisses and eyes promised. Tonight, at least, that seemed enough.

  “Yes, angel.”

  He came around and helped her out of the car. His hand was solid and sure at her elbow. Heat spread up the inside of her bare flesh, tightening her breast and bringing her nipples to an aching point.

  The moonlight played over his chiseled features. There was nothing soft about Preston, and in the shadows he lost the facade of civilization that he wore, day in and day out.

  She swallowed. This man, who was more at home in darkness than in light, was the one who’d challenged her to teach him to love and didn’t believe she could achieve it.

  She led him into her house. The light she’d left on in the parlor spilled onto the hardwood floor in the hallway. She hesitated when she entered the room and saw the books she’d left perched on the end table. Books about love and its celebration. She led Preston to the love seat farthest from the books. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.

  Good manners demanded she offer him a drink, but she knew if she left the room he’d find those books, and she wasn’t ready to discuss love tonight. Not tonight, because it might spoil the mood that permeated through her like the champagne had at the wedding. The intimate setting of Preston’s plush car and the mellow music had made her want to live in the bubble of intimacy, even if it wasn’t real.

  “Let’s talk seduction,” she said, sliding closer to him on the love seat. He’d left his jacket in the car, and his body heat drew her closer. Her thin dress was adequate for the temperature outside, but inside it suddenly didn’t seem enough. She put her hand on his thigh and teased herself with the image of his naked leg beneath her pink-tipped fingernails.

  “I don’t think an expert like you needs to discuss anything,” he said with a pointed glance at her hand on his thigh.

  She was in a mood to tease him. The way he’d been when she’d dined at his apartment. She slid one finger up the inside of his thigh. “Expert?”

  He covered her hand with his own. “Of course. Don’t push me too far, Lily.”

  “I’m sorry.” She slid her hand out from under his, feeling more and more like someone she didn’t know.

  “What do you want from me?” he asked.

  She didn’t know. Part of her wanted to believe he could be that man she’d been waiting for all of her life, but another part didn’t want to leave herself open to the vulnerability that would bring. “I’m the novice here. I’m the one searching for love.”

  “But you’re seducing me into believing that myth, as well.”

  “It’s only seduction if it’s against your best wishes.”

  “It is,” he said with a finality that should have made her leap from the couch and kick him out of her house. But she sensed the fear under the words. Someone had taught Preston that loving was weak and brought only pain. It was up to her to show him the real value in it. Was Preston vulnerable, too?

  “What would it take to seduce you, Preston Dexter?”

  “Tonight?”

  She nodded.

  “A bit of that magic you mentioned earlier.”

  She blinked against the emotion swamping her. “Come here.”

  He leaned closer. She pulled him into her arms and into an embrace that brought them body to body, that let her touch her lips to his. She tried to bring the magic that had been surrounding her all her life to him.

  Preston took control of the kiss with a harsh groan. His grip on her shoulders tightened, and his mouth slanted on hers. His tongue penetrated deeply, as if trying to learn the taste of her completely. He tasted of the coffee he’d had before they left the reception and of something undefinable that was only Preston.

  She thrust her tongue into his mouth, trying to assuage a thirst that had sprung from nowhere and wouldn’t be stopped. She didn’t know where the line between seducer and seduced had ended but suddenly that didn’t matter. She only knew that having Preston in her arms was where he belonged. He always seemed so cold and lonely, except when she tempted him into her arm
s.

  Seven

  Preston had never craved anything as much as he craved Lily’s body under his. He wanted to sheath his throbbing erection in her warm, welcoming body. To see if she’d deliver on the promises her eyes had been making all night.

  He’d been wrong to make any sort of dare with her. Success lay in the familiar. He bent to nibble on her neck as she leaned back against the cushions of the sofa. There was something vulnerable about the curve of a woman’s neck, and Lily’s seemed more so. Though he wanted to stop and caress it with his fingertips, to touch her as he would something fragile, he didn’t.

  He smoothed his mouth to her ear and whispered dark promises to her. She shifted restlessly on the couch. Her eyes half-lidded as her hands grasped at his shoulders and tried to pull him closer. But he knew the only type of closeness that would satisfy them both was naked flesh to naked flesh.

  He couldn’t give her magic, but he could give her passion. It was the one area of his life where he’d always excelled. He’d never had any trouble mastering his body and his reactions to women. At an early age he’d learned the game of seduction.

  Lily’s hands found his head, and she pulled his mouth to hers. She wasn’t grasping in her desire but welcoming. She wanted him and wanted him to want her. As if he didn’t.

  It felt he’d wanted her forever. Blood pounded through his veins like the rush he got when driving his Jag wide open on a deserted highway with no care given to speed limits or safety. He never let himself dwell too long on the man he was then because that man didn’t know how to survive in the real world.

  Lily brushed her lips to his, barely touching them. Back and forth until he thought he would completely lose control. He held her head still in his grasp, needing to be inside at least her mouth. But he felt the challenge she’d thrown down as clearly as if she’d waved a red flag in front of his face. That kiss of hers had been a provocation. And he called on the skills he’d honed on faceless women from his past to entice her now.

  He bent to her, but she slid back from the kiss and nibbled instead on his lower lip. The world narrowed, and only one person existed. The exhalation of her breath seemed loud in the silent room. His thundering heartbeat steadily drowned out the sound. He had to have her.

  He sucked her upper lip into his mouth and Lily moaned. “Oh, Pres…”

  He remembered how shy and tentative she’d been the first time he’d embraced her. She’d grown bolder, and Preston reveled in her reactions to him. The one time men and women were most honest with each other was in a physically intimate situation.

  He took possession of her mouth, molding it to his own, thrusting his tongue past the barrier of her teeth as he caressed his way down her body with his hands. She rubbed her tongue against his, and he shifted on the couch, bringing Lily onto his lap.

  Her full breasts rose and fell with each breath she took. The light from the lamp cast a soft glow in the room, but Preston wished it were brighter. He wanted to see the body he was caressing. He wanted to know if her breasts were pink tipped, as he imagined, if her hair were red everywhere and if she’d let him stare at her until they both felt as if they’d go up in flames.

  He teased her with a circling touch around her breast, confirming what he’d suspected earlier—she wasn’t wearing a bra. Just the tiniest light caress, knowing she wanted—needed—more from him.

  But he wanted this to last forever. Suddenly it was important that she experience satisfaction. He needed to watch her blossom in his arms. And she was doing so, beautifully.

  Her nipple hardened under his stroking finger and he had to taste it. He tugged her forward. Her hands kneaded his shoulders and then she scraped her fingernails down his back, following the line of his spine.

  With a firm touch between her shoulderblades Preston brought her chest in alignment with his mouth. He suckled her through the layer of her thin dress. She moaned and her hands clutched at his head. Preston sucked harder, trying to pull a response from her that would match the one pulsing through his body.

  Her legs straddled his hips, and through the thin layer of her dress he felt her feminine warmth. His fingers tingled to touch her. To feel her honey spilling on his fingers. He wanted to open his fly and feel that warmth on his engorged flesh but knew better. He didn’t want this to end yet.

  He was so hard, he could scarcely breathe. Yet he couldn’t pull away from the temptation of her body. He turned his attention to her other breast. Lily’s hands roamed over his back searchingly.

  He wanted her long fingers on his flesh but didn’t have the patience to remove his shirt. Her hips rocked against his groin. Sliding his hands up under her dress, he took the taut globes of her butt in his hands, fondling her through her lace panties. She gasped and rocked harder against him.

  “Preston?” her high questioning sound drew his attention.

  “It’s okay, angel.”

  She was on the knife’s edge and he realized that she’d never been there before. How innocent was she? His body didn’t care, but his conscience nagged. He slid his palm around to cup her feminine heat. She was as warm and tempting as he’d imagined but there was more. He found the center of her excitement and teased it gently with his finger until she couldn’t stay still. She brought her mouth to his and as he slid his tongue deep into her recesses, he entered her body with first one finger and then, stretching her gently, added another.

  Her body was warm and tight, sheathing his fingers like a warm glove. He almost lost it right then, imagining her tight warmth on his erection. He thrust deeper into her body and watched her arch in response. He knew he couldn’t stop now. Wouldn’t be able to stop until he was hilt deep, surrounded by her tight heat and the warmth that came only from Lily.

  “Oh, Preston, what’s happening?”

  “Just ride it out, angel.”

  She did—beautifully so. Arching against him, holding her body tight until tiny contractions tightened her even more around his fingers. Before falling against his shoulder, her uneven breathing filling the silent room.

  Preston was rock hard and wanted nothing more than to slip into her body. But he realized there were consequences to this that he’d never thought of before. Consequences that hadn’t ever existed in his world until now. “Lily, are you a virgin?”

  She snuggled closer to him, burying her face against his chest. “Yes.”

  The White Willow House was slowly returning to the splendor it had enjoyed in its pre-Civil War era. Some of the antiques she’d ordered from France and Spain had started arriving. She’d hired a local artisan to craft replicas for each of the guest rooms. Lily knew she’d done her best work yet.

  She’d neglected some of her other clients to concentrate on the Dexter Resorts project. And she’d been working long days to make up for it. Which was just as well, because in the two weeks since she’d confessed to being a virgin, Preston had left her alone.

  Part of her, the Catholic girl who’d gone to confession once a week, was glad. But in her heart she wanted to experience Preston as only a woman could. He made the world seem brighter and life more…exciting and interesting.

  She wondered if he thought he might catch it from her. Always willing to go to the wall to win, she hadn’t let his busy schedule detract from her campaign to convince him love existed. Last night she’d sent him two e-mails and a fax with some quotes she’d unearthed.

  He hadn’t responded. But he’d sent a thank-you note for the basket of romantic CDs and DVDs that she’d had delivered on Monday. Twilight cast long shadows on the hardwood floors of the suite she’d just added a candelabra to. She imagined how it must have been to live in the days of candlelight. When everything was a little softer.

  She imagined a Mozart waltz floating upstairs from the ballroom through the open window and bowed to an imaginary partner, then waltzed around the room.

  Someone cleared his throat and she turned guiltily toward the open door. Preston stood in the shadows like a vampire afraid
of the light of day. Embarrassed, she put her hand to her throat and looked around for her planner. He looked tired, she thought. As if he was running from something that was gaining on him.

  She longed to open her arms and offer him the solace of her body, but she was afraid she’d be left a shell of a woman when he moved on. She wanted him to realize what a precious gift they had been given because she’d come to know that Preston was her soul mate. He looked to the future while she fixed the past. Together they both brought things to each other that neither could live without.

  “Don’t stop on my account.” His voice brushed over her senses. That deep husky sound that brought back the last time she heard it. On her love seat two weeks ago. Two long weeks ago. Her heartbeat had doubled and blood rushed to the center of her body.

  “It was a private show.” She gathered her stuff and walked toward him. He blocked the doorway with his body. She realized how tall he was for the first time. Maybe it was because she was wearing Keds instead of her work boots.

  He raised one eyebrow. “I’m very discriminating.”

  That he was. Plus he played his cards so close to his chest no one had any idea what he was thinking. “I know.”

  “So dance for me.”

  She was tempted because she knew it would give him pleasure, and Preston seemed to have too little of that in his life. But he had to learn that she wasn’t an oddity in his life. She wasn’t a new toy that could be taken out and played with when he was bored. She was a real woman and deserved to be treated as such by him. “Preston, I’m not one of your flunkies. You can’t avoid me for two weeks, then expect me to do whatever you ask.”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “You’re the boss. You could rearrange your schedule.” But she knew he wouldn’t. She’d realized when he’d disappeared the last time that when emotions started to affect him, Preston backed away and regrouped, coming back stronger and more resolute in the confidence that love didn’t exist.