All The Way
Page 1
Table of Contents
All The Way
Copyright
Praise for Tricia Jones and…
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
A word about the author...
Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
All the Way
by
Tricia Jones
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
All the Way
COPYRIGHT © 2012 by Tricia Jones
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com
Cover Art by Debbie Taylor
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Champagne Rose Edition, 2012
Print ISBN 978-1-61217-561-4
Digital ISBN 978-1-61217-562-1
Published in the United States of America
Praise for Tricia Jones and…
A TEMPORARY ARRANGEMENT
“I highly recommend this book. The sensual scenes were exciting…the ending was surprising. This one is a keeper.”
~The Romance Studio (5 hearts)
~*~
NO STRINGS NEIGHBOR
“…a delightful read…characters drew me in, made me laugh, smile, and generally care about them.”
~Got Romance Reviews (5 Diamonds)
~*~
BULL AT THE GATE
“…delights the heart…an enchanting, sometimes humorous, sometimes sensual vicarious experience that keeps one turning pages.”
~Long and Short of It Romance Reviews (4 Books)
Dedication
For AJ and Zorro — my beautiful boys
Chapter One
“You expect me to help you? Now why in God’s name would I do that?”
Grace Redman gazed across the wide walnut desk at the man whose bed she had once shared, wondering what in hell had possessed her to return two years after finding the courage to leave.
No choice, she reminded herself as she held his hard gaze. No bloody choice. Had there been one, she wouldn’t have flown from London to Paris and humiliated herself by asking for his help. Her throat threatened to snap closed at any moment, but she kept her tone even. “You’re the only person I can ask. If there was any other way, believe me, I would have taken it.”
Nikolai Kernov’s expression didn’t flicker. Not one telltale trace of emotion from the man who had wrenched so many from her during the course of their brief affair.
His features seemed sharper. His hair, always short, was now clipped so close to his scalp it seemed nothing more than a dark shadow. Ice blue eyes promised no warmth, nor did the full lips currently set into a harsh line. His long fingers, the ones that dipped into God-knew-what and always managed to increase his self-made fortune, tapped absently against the leather arms of his chair.
“What is it you want?” His deep voice, richly accented, gave testament to his Russian heritage. “Money?”
Grace took the insult, wished it were that simple. “It’s—”
“Let’s not make it too easy.” He raised his hands—hands that had once pushed her toward a kind of sexual insanity, yet now only censured. “Allow me the pleasure of enjoying a simple guessing game. Perhaps teaching law does not pay as well as practicing it. Maybe you need extra funds to support your meager pay check.”
Grace took a moment to absorb what he’d said, letting the surprise of it filter through. “How did you know I changed my career?”
He kept that cool gaze on hers. “I make it my business to keep myself apprised of the activities of my enemies, Grace.”
She should have anticipated this. Had been foolish, perhaps, to expect otherwise. Yet, the cut to her heart pushed deep. His enemy.
“I can’t blame you for despising me, Niko, but I had hoped you might at least be willing to hear me out.”
“You must be desperate to ask help from the likes of me. Or have I, now that you find yourself in need, suddenly become less abhorrent to you?”
Foolish, foolish woman. Letting him know he was the only one who could help her. It was true, but not something you admitted to a man like Nikolai Kernov. He liked to control. Liked to wield power and bask in the outcome. Thing was, she was running out of time. Had already run out of options.
She took a covert breath, wondering if she’d maybe gone about this all wrong. First, she should have tried to explain what had happened two years ago. Apologized. Made him understand her position back then. Except he wouldn’t listen. He’d long ago made up his mind and was a man not easily dissuaded from his decisions.
Unsure of her next move, Grace repositioned the strap of her shoulder bag as it slipped down her arm. “I hadn’t realized you’d moved to Paris. Did business bring you here?”
“Da. Business.” He narrowed his gaze. “London lost its appeal. Bad memories.”
She took his reference. “It’s not like you to bear a grudge.”
“There is no grudge to address. I simply deal with those who betray me.”
He’d dealt with her. He’d simply walked away.
“It wasn’t like that. I never meant what happened to backfire on you.”
When he only looked at her, Grace eased her weight from one foot to the other. She hadn’t been invited to sit, which was a weapon in Nikolai’s vast arsenal of power tools. She remembered it well. It was one way she’d worked out who he trusted. A guarded man, with few friends, Grace recalled that the people who visited his Mayfair apartment were mostly business associates invited for pre-dinner drinks. They were invited to either sit or remain standing according to Nikolai’s degree of trust/respect. She, apparently, had been demoted to the very bottom of the pecking order.
Grace took another breath, refocusing her attention on the reason she was here. “Will you help me?”
With deliberate ease, he ran his fingers along his jaw. “What am I to receive in return for this help, I wonder?”
“I-I don’t have money to pay you, if that’s what you mean.”
She might have laughed at the idiocy of her response and that he would require money as payment, but a shiver ran through her with the realization of where this was heading. Knowing it, all she could do was delay the inevitable, keep things on an even keel for the remaining few seconds she had left of her pride. “I could work for you. You know my skills are excellent.”
For the first time since she’d stepped into his office, he smiled. A feral smile, displaying even white teeth. “Da. I remember your skills very well.”
Heat pushed into her face, but she brushed aside the innuendo. “You know you can trust me to be discreet with your legal concerns. I’ve got the whole of the summer break, so whatever department you put me in will be fine. I don’t mind what I do.”
&nb
sp; “This I also remember.”
Her throat contracted painfully as she swallowed. “So, you’ll help me?”
“I have yet to decide. We are still discussing terms, I believe.”
Grace wanted to hold her stomach as it lurched disagreeably. Instead she tightened her fingers around the strap of her bag, gripping it like a lifeline in a turbulent sea of misery. She’d been a fool not to expect this. Not to realize what he would demand of her in return for his help.
Payback. Humiliation. Revenge.
“Why don’t you just tell me your terms and let’s get on with it.”
Again, that smile. “If I am to take full advantage of your excellent skills then I believe my terms will require you flat on your back with your legs apart.”
As her face burned, she looked away. “I won’t be your lover again, Niko. I won’t.”
“You flatter yourself, milaya. Being my lover is not what I demand.”
She forced her gaze back to his, hating the cold look in his eyes. “Then what? Sex? One time only?”
His shoulders lifted in a casual shrug.
“That’s it? That’s all you want?” She couldn’t believe the flippant tone of her voice. As if a one time only sexual encounter was an everyday occurrence for her, something she so easily bartered to get what she wanted. She might have laughed at the irony. She’d had two lovers in her life, and the one who’d meant the most was sitting opposite her requesting she offer her body as if it were a simple bargaining tool.
She couldn’t dwell on the way the thought squeezed her heart. Once she’d imagined herself in love with him, but now her only comfort for the stupid dreams she’d had of a future with him were that she’d been naive. Foolish. An idiot. Just as she was an idiot to be confronting him now.
Surely there had to be another way. Something. Except there wasn’t. She’d tried everything. He was the only route left. “Give me a job to do. Anything. I don’t even care if it’s legal.”
He laughed, a callous sound that shivered through her like ice. “Still you think the worst of me. It seems nothing has changed.”
Everything has changed, she thought. Everything. Once he’d looked at her with desire, with a ruthless hunger that had filled her heart. But that was before she’d betrayed him. Before she’d had to make the choice. In truth, she’d had none. Nikolai or her sister. There was never a choice. As there was no choice now.
On trembling legs, she walked around his desk. Boldly, she placed her bag on the gleaming walnut and faced him squarely. “I need your help and I’ll do whatever necessary to get it. Tell me what you want.”
He kept his gaze on hers as he pushed his chair back from the desk. “You know what I want.” He gave her a long and insolent perusal, his gaze moving over her in a manner that left no room for misconception. “I want the only thing I ever wanted from you.”
Blood ran cold through her veins. How could he be so cruel? So hard? He knew she was desperate. Knew her well enough to realize that only desperation would have brought her back to him. Except he didn’t care.
His eyes gleamed dark with victory, the slight smile lifting the corners of his mouth in a chilling indication that already he knew he had won.
Could she go through with it? Could she protect herself from the rip to her heart when he tossed her aside afterward?
“Niko—I can’t.”
“Then close the door on your way out.”
Trapped, she held his gaze. She could do this. She had to do this. All it needed was for her to look upon it as he obviously did—a mindless sexual act that meant nothing. For two years she’d learned to shut down any feelings she had for him. She could do it again.
Self-disgust weakened her legs, but she pushed it aside and tried to keep her mind blank. “Do you want me to lock the door?”
He raised his eyebrows. “I want you to take off your blouse.”
The words left his lips with such easy calm, as if he was asking her to simply hand him one of the files on his desk. She swallowed and raised her hand to the mother of pearl button at her collarbone. “What is this about? Make me feel as low as possible? Get your revenge on me?”
“It’s about you wanting my help.” He watched her fingers slip the top button, then the next and the next, until the front of her blouse gaped open. Only then did his gaze lift to hers. “It’s about whatever’s made you desperate enough to come here. To face me.”
His fierce expression made her want to run, but she steeled herself and slipped the blouse from her shoulders. His attention fell to the curve of her breasts above the simple white cotton bra.
Stiffening her arms to her sides, Grace pushed down the sense of repulse at her own actions. No choice, she reminded herself. Absolutely none.
“Now can I lock the door?”
He pursed his lips. “The skirt.”
She swallowed again. God, this was humiliating. “I don’t need to—”
“The skirt,” he repeated, his tone low and firm.
With morbid resignation, Grace reached back to clasp the top of the small zipper. “You should know I don’t want this. Not that I expect you care, but I want you to be clear that I’m doing this against my will.”
“You’re correct. I don’t care. Now remove your skirt.”
Careful to keep her gaze locked with his, she slid down the zipper. She had enough experience to know that she would be insane to take her attention from him, any more than she would any predator with the scent of blood flooding his nostrils.
She let the straight black skirt slip over her hips to pool at her feet, watching as Nikolai’s attention took a leisurely trip along the same route.
His hooded eyes met hers. “Come here.”
Grace stood rooted to the spot as he used his foot to push his chair further away from the desk. She stood before him in her functional black pumps, white bra and matching panties.
“The door, Nikolai?” God. This was bad enough, without the added humiliation of his assistant waltzing in on them.
“What’s wrong, Grace? Are you not a little aroused by the thought that we might be caught?”
“No.” Her skin trembled against the chill slicking over her flesh, and the recognition that, yes, she was aroused. The thought sickened her. How could she want him so easily, so desperately? “I’m locking the door.”
He shot forward, catching her wrist as she turned. “You’ll leave it.”
Before she could protest, he tugged and brought her down hard on his lap, positioning her so that she straddled him.
His hard length pressed against her damp heat, his hips moving subtly but suggestively, and she hated that her own need intensified. How could it be? How could she allow herself to be humiliated yet turned on at the same time? He had always had this effect on her. Right from the first. From the moment he’d picked her up in a hotel bar on a snowy January night when they each found themselves stranded in Geneva by bad weather. It had taken him less than an hour to get her into his bed. Even less to keep her there.
“You know what I want.” His deep voice rumbled through the silence. “Or has it been so long that you have forgotten?”
No. Not so long. Even now she could remember the things he liked, the way he would purr like a big, dangerous cat when she stroked him, when she ran her hands over his taut muscles and hot skin.
“I haven’t forgotten.”
He made no move to touch her, but she felt him harden as he watched her through those cool, blue eyes. “Then begin the show, angel. Persuade me that the pleasures of your body will be payment enough for the favor you seek. Give me what you promised me that last night we were together. What you failed to deliver.”
For one crazy moment she thought to reason with him. To remind him of the amazing time they had shared together. Yet, for him, all those precious memories would be buried beneath his absolute disdain for her now. Nobody sold out Nikolai Kernov and escaped the repercussions.
Slowly, Grace lifted her arms and place
d her hands on his shoulders. Beneath the slightly rough fabric of his jacket she could feel the tight, leanly muscled strength of his body and her own body responded. When she angled herself over his hard length, his rough inhale was almost imperceptible, but it seemed she was still tuned to the nuances of his reactions. She moved back, the slight rocking motion she set up darkening his eyes as he kept them locked with hers.
Still he didn’t move his hands from the arms of his chair, but his chest expanded as his breathing deepened. She increased the rhythm, using her leg muscles to build speed as she pressed herself against him. All she had to do was get this over with. The sooner the better. Then he would help her. He had to help her. Despite everything, he was a man of his word.
Grace dug her fingers deep into his shoulders as her own breathing changed. Her stomach muscles tightened, her inner thighs contracted, and she knew unashamedly that she still wanted him.
She dropped her hand to his waist and fumbled for his zipper. Lightning fast his hand covered hers, halting her action. “Nyet.”
“You want sex,” she said without breaking rhythm. “I’m giving you sex.”
His hand tightened over hers. “Already you forget the terms of our arrangement. I said I want what you promised me the last time we were together.”
No, she hadn’t forgotten. She just hoped he had.
She became very still. “I can’t do it here, Niko.”
His eyes narrowed and he whipped a hand to her neck, pulling her face down close to his. “You’ll do what I want. Make no mistake about it. Know that you are free to leave at any time.” When she didn’t move, he released his hand so she could straighten up. “Do it.”
Humiliation, hot and sickly, ran through her. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t done it for him before. Many times. Yet it was an act of such intimacy, such trust, that it felt desperately demeaning to carry it out with no warmth, no tenderness behind it. Regardless, she knew he wouldn’t let her off the hook, so she slid her hands down to his chest and eased herself from his lap.
She couldn’t meet his gaze as she knelt between his legs and her fingers trembled as she reached for his zipper. She drew the zipper down slowly, heat flaring between her own legs and making nonsense of her claims that she didn’t want this. Want him. Maybe this wasn’t how she’d dreamed of things playing out between them, but making love—having sex—with Nikolai had never been abhorrent to her, not in any form.