Reining in the Billionaire

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Reining in the Billionaire Page 11

by Dani Wade


  Whoa. Though she’d spoken quietly, Mason recognized an unfamiliar tone in EvaMarie’s voice. It wasn’t even the same tone she’d used when she’d spoken to him in anger the other day. Instead, it was the simple assurance that the facts were in her favor—the facts that called him an overreacting idiot.

  Before he could formulate his thoughts, she went on. “I realize that might not be a courtesy given to paid employees—”

  “Shush, will ya?”

  Leaning up on his elbow, Mason stared at the oval shape of her face, but had trouble making out the details in the dark. “There’s no need to play the martyr, EvaMarie.”

  He rushed on when she opened her mouth to parry with him. “It was thoughtless of me to bring people home without letting you know. Hell, it was thoughtless not to tell you we’d gone to dinner after our meeting, then had drinks. I’m sorry.”

  She must have been as surprised as he was, because she didn’t speak.

  “I’m not used to having to think about those things, about other people. Kane and I never had company much except our weekly poker game with the guys. And half of them were stable hands. They just walked in off the job for dinner.”

  “Thus the poker room, huh?”

  Smart girl. “You got it.”

  He heard her take a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Mason. I was just embarrassed, I guess.”

  Should he warn her she’d be even more so if Liza had her way? He’d face that tomorrow. For better or worse, Mason didn’t want to shatter the now lighter mood.

  But it seemed as though she was going to do it for him. “I don’t think this is gonna work, Mason,” she said, what sounded like regret weighing down her voice.

  Was that the same emotion sinking like a rock into his stomach?

  He didn’t want it to be. Still he asked, “Why?”

  She stood, presenting her back. “I know I asked for this, but honestly I don’t know how—”

  The strangled sound that choked off her words resonated with him—because he didn’t know either. His history of plenty of one-night stands and a couple of longer stretches with the same woman didn’t match anything in his situation with EvaMarie. Here, he was with a woman he knew, but didn’t know just the same. He suspected she didn’t know this side of herself very well either.

  But he wanted to know her, every part of her, with a desire that was more than likely dangerous.

  “Haven’t you ever wanted to make your own rules?”

  What prompted his question, he wasn’t sure. But he sensed that something inside Evie was changing, breaking free, and he wanted to encourage it.

  She responded with a huff of a laugh. “Only forever.”

  With a firm hand, he reached for her arm and turned her to face him. “Then we’ll do that here. Together.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  He hadn’t expected the question or the aching sadness in her voice. But he couldn’t ignore it. “We were friends once, long before—” He cleared his throat. “We were friends first. Let’s remember that.” Especially in this place that had seen so much of that young love—not just the sex, but talking, laughing and the sharing of dreams. He owed that time something.

  “Like friends with benefits?” she asked with a giggle.

  “Oh, I definitely hope so.”

  She seemed to sober, though he couldn’t see her features really well. “How?”

  Good question. “One day at a time.”

  “That simple?”

  “That simple. And the first rule should be that common courtesy rules the show. Agreed?”

  She didn’t speak but simply nodded.

  “And rule number two...” He pushed forward, meeting her chest with his, combining their body heat with explosive results. Her gasp said she felt it too.

  Breathlessly she asked, “Rule number two?”

  “Let me show you.”

  * * *

  And boy did he.

  Drawing her up to her knees, Mason moved in close before she could catch her breath, leaving just enough room for his hands. Very busy hands. All too soon he’d taken her shirt off, and the cool night air kissed her bare skin. The brush of his shirt against the tips of her breasts had her gasping for air.

  Then he efficiently removed that final barrier, and heated skin pressed to heated skin. If EvaMarie remembered nothing else from their time together, she knew that first moment of full body touch would stand out above all else.

  But she wasn’t content to wait on him this time. Her own urgency pushed her to grasp his muscled shoulders, to pull him as close as possible. One of his knees slid between hers, the length of his thigh pressing her jeans roughly against her feminine core. Her moans mingled with the sound of the water nearby and the rush of the wind, all intertwining to heighten EvaMarie’s acute senses.

  Reaching around, Mason cupped her jeans-clad bottom with his large hands, pulling her up along his leg, then pushing her down until her knees once more touched the ground. The force of his touch and the strain of his body told her this was happening quickly.

  His breath deepened, the sound accelerating with the beat of her heart in her ears. His urgency fed her own. Her grip tightened. Her core ached. And her brain short-circuited in her pursuit of making any sense of what was happening.

  Better to just feel. Thinking was overrated.

  His mouth devoured hers. Nibbling, sucking, exploring. EvaMarie was ready to do a little exploring of her own. Her hands traveled down his back, laying claim to the smooth territory below his waistband. More than enough to overflow her palms, his butt cheeks were squeezable and oh, so sexy. The muscles flexed as he did what he wanted with her body, previewing the dance they would indulge in all too soon.

  Suddenly he sucked at her neck, causing everything inside her to tighten—including her fingers. Her nails dug against his skin. In return, he set his teeth against the tendons running along her throat. Their groans filled the air.

  “Again,” he gasped.

  The combined tension and need left EvaMarie light-headed on a runaway train. And she wouldn’t have had it any other way.

  The same need had Mason fumbling with the button of her jeans. His combined chuckle and growl of frustration floated over her nerve endings like an electrical current. The sheer sensations of being with him like this pulsed beneath her skin.

  Within minutes of getting naked, Mason lay back on the blanket. “Take what you want, Evie,” he gasped.

  To her surprise, the idea inspired her, though her natural hesitation still reared its ugly head.

  “Now, Evie.”

  The force of his words unlocked her barriers. Instead of the slow and careful advance she would have expected, her body leaped into movement. Crawling over him, relief spread through her as she straddled his thighs. Relief, and a rush of desire so strong it was almost a cramp.

  Mason was ready for her, but he didn’t reach out to help. He positioned himself like a platter on display, eager for her to avail herself of his bounty. So she did. With a single swift move, she made them one. Her entire body gasped at the intrusion, her mind overtaken with the sensation of fullness. Her muscles clasped down in ecstasy.

  Mason’s moan played over her ears, heightening her experience.

  In fact, every response to her movements held her breathless. Never had she felt such a sense of power or responsibility—she could do whatever she wanted with his permission, yet what she wanted was to make it good for him too.

  Her body adopted a natural rhythm, one learned through a lifetime of riding. Mason grasped her hands in his, leveraging her up yet keeping them connected. She could watch his face as she moved, learning what entranced him, what ramped up his need and what sent him over the moon.

  Before long they were both gasping, playing alon
g the edges of ecstasy without falling over. All too soon, EvaMarie couldn’t hold back. She thrust hard. Once. Twice. The explosion catapulted her into a feeling of flight.

  Mason reared up, wrapping his arms tightly around her. His guttural cries against her skin sparked shock waves in the aftermath. A sound EvaMarie knew she’d never forget.

  An experience she’d carry with her for a lifetime.

  Twelve

  “Jeremy, do you know where EvaMarie went?” Mason asked as he stepped into his bedroom.

  The crew had repainted the room the day before and was now addressing the crown molding, among other upgrades to the dressing area and adjoining bath.

  Jeremy glanced up from his clipboard and blinked, but didn’t answer.

  “I saw her car leave as I headed back from the barn,” Mason prompted.

  “Ah, EvaMarie, yes,” Jeremy said. “She headed over to the library, I believe.”

  The library? She’d always been a reader, but—suddenly her father’s voice came back to him, “She got a job at the library.”

  Mason tried to continue the conversation casually, but in the back of his mind, unease grew. More than that, his worry unsettled him.

  Within twenty minutes he hit the road. The main branch of the town’s library wasn’t too far from the house. When he entered the building, two librarians eyed him as he walked past, but he continued on his hunt. Finally, a husky, resonating voice led him to...the children’s room?

  The door to the glassed-in room remained open, but Mason didn’t need to stand right on the threshold. EvaMarie’s voice carried, so he stood to the right so he could watch her from outside her line of sight. Mason let go of the words and simply focused on the cadence of her voice. As much as he adored that sound, what struck him the most was her expression. Calm. Happy.

  She’s enjoying herself.

  Since his return, the closest he’d seen EvaMarie to happy had been during their discussions about the house, and with the horses. Their most intimate moments together were about a different kind of enjoyment. And he’d seen all too many instances of the blank mask she used to hide her emotions. But this, he could only describe as carefree.

  Her guarded look returned as soon as story time ended. Their gazes met through the glass, and Mason could almost see the barriers go up, which told him more than she probably wanted. It meant this place, this time, meant something special to her. Remembering how much she’d loved books when he’d known her before, seeing all the books around her rooms since his return, and her joy in being among these children, he’d have to be completely clueless not to have figured it out.

  And he was glad she’d taken steps to create something meaningful in her life.

  But her cautious approach said she might not have been ready to share it with him. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

  The tone wasn’t exactly accusatory. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but definitely the caution was there. And for once he wasn’t quite sure how to answer...because saying he’d rushed down here because he was afraid she was interviewing for another position would make him more vulnerable than he was ready for.

  “Miss Marie?”

  Mason looked down to find a little blonde sprite between them. Her arm wrapped around EvaMarie’s thigh, as if to claim her in the face of the big bad man across from them. He glanced up at EvaMarie with a questioning look.

  “My full name is too much for some of the younger ones to pronounce,” she said with a rueful grin.

  “Is he your daddy?” the little girl persisted.

  “What?” Mason’s tone conveyed a wealth of hell no.

  He immediately recognized his response as a bit too much when a slight wash of tears filled the wide eyes watching him. Unlike him, EvaMarie knew exactly how to handle the situation. With natural ease, she bent down. “He’s my friend,” she said in a soothing tone. “Like Joshua is your friend.”

  “Do you play together?”

  This one Mason had an answer for... “All the time.”

  EvaMarie shot him a glare, even as her face flamed.

  But the little miss wasn’t done yet. “Sometimes Josh will pull my hair.”

  Mason choked back his laugh as best he could. EvaMarie’s skin almost glowed in her embarrassment. But this time Mason bent to the little girl’s level. “Well, you tell him that’s not how girls like to be treated. He needs to be a gentleman and treat you like a lady.”

  The little girl preened, her smile saying she liked that idea. Then her mother called from across the room, so she hugged EvaMarie quickly and left them with a cute little smile.

  “Whew,” Mason said, “that was getting tricky.”

  EvaMarie raised her brow in a nice impression of a Southern belle. “You brought it on yourself.”

  He had to concede with a grin. After all, he was fully aware of his shortcomings. Instead, he waved a hand toward the rapidly emptying room. “Why this?” he asked.

  “My degree is in early education, and this is a helpful way to put it to use,” she said as she started straightening up the room.

  “Degree?”

  Her grin was self-deprecating, but there was also disbelief mixed in over his surprise. “Yes—believe it or not, I did go to college.”

  “Oh, I believe it. You always liked to learn.” Which reminded him of his one unauthorized visit inside the Hyatt house as a teen. “Is the library still in the turret tower?”

  He caught a glimpse of sadness crossing her face right before she turned away to fit the book she’d read back on the shelf. “The room is there, but the movers helped me pack away the books and store them.”

  She didn’t have to tell him she missed it. The turret library had been her favorite room when he’d known her. Her escape, other than the horses.

  She turned back to face him, more questions in her eyes, but then her expression changed. “Hello, Laurence,” she said, looking over Mason’s left shoulder.

  “EvaMarie,” the other man said, offering Mason a short nod but keeping his gaze on EvaMarie. “I was just down here discussing the Derby festivities for the children’s festival.” His eyes narrowed. “Could I speak with you, please?”

  Mason wasn’t sure what came over him exactly. Masculine pride? The burn of competition? But he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Actually we’re on our way to lunch. You can call her later.” He didn’t even look at EvaMarie to see what she thought.

  Of course, Laurence wouldn’t be a worthy opponent if he didn’t protest. “I prefer—”

  “Is it urgent?” Mason asked.

  “Well, no.”

  “Then call later.” Or not at all. Mason hooked his arm through EvaMarie’s. “See ya.”

  Then he ushered her outside.

  They were almost to her car when she asked, “Was that really necessary?” Instead of the angry tone he expected after his interference, she sounded almost giggly. He glanced over to see her suppressing a smile.

  “Got a problem?” he asked playfully. “Because I can take you back in.”

  “Right, like I’m looking forward to the lecture I was in for for associating with the... No way.” She shot him a look that arrowed straight to his groin—sassy, sexy and something he’d never expected to see from EvaMarie in public. “But I guess this means you owe me lunch.”

  If this was punishment for opening his big mouth, he’d do it every time. “I’d never dream of going back on my word.”

  * * *

  Mason parked on one side of the historic square downtown, and EvaMarie was able to pull into the spot right next to his. They didn’t touch as they walked along the sidewalk, but their connection felt almost tangible to EvaMarie. She didn’t need his touch to know that he was aware of her, which was an empowering, heady experience.

  A
fter last night, she’d felt almost revived, set on a new course, a better course. But she didn’t have the overall plan yet.

  As they strolled past Mr. Petty’s antique shop, something she glimpsed through the window made EvaMarie pause. Her instincts urged her to look closer, check it out, but maybe it wasn’t her place to do so. Only she hesitated a moment too long.

  Mason joined her. “What is it?” he asked.

  So far Mason and Jeremy had been the driving forces behind the renovations. EvaMarie had been present at most of the discussions and had offered her opinion, but never had she taken the initiative. She worried her lip with her teeth for a moment, trying to decide. Finally she offered a small smile. “Let’s go inside.”

  He nodded and held the door for her. Stepping across the threshold to the jingle of the doorbell, EvaMarie made her way straight to the piece she’d seen through the window: an old-fashioned sign for a gentleman’s sports lodge, weathered with age, but in good repair. She pointed to the sign. “Mason, wouldn’t that be great in the poker room?”

  “Hell, yeah.” He grinned up at the sign. “This is perfect. Good eye.”

  She tried to ignore the glow of pleasure blooming in her belly. “We could carry the dark wood theme from the wine cellar into the game room, kind of give it a hunting lodge-type feel.”

  “I’ve got more where that came from, if you’re interested.”

  EvaMarie turned to see the proprietor had found them. “We’re decorating a game room. What did you have in mind?”

  Half an hour later, they had purchased the sign, wall rack, poker table and wine rack in varying degrees of restoration. It was a job well done. It felt good, and Mason’s deference to her opinion left EvaMarie glowing.

  They continued down the sidewalk to a popular corner café at a casual stroll. “So where did you go to college?” Mason asked.

  “An exclusive women’s liberal arts college in Tennessee. Father wanted me to study so I would be articulate and ladylike, but he didn’t really care what else I actually learned there, so I decided on something I thought I would enjoy doing one day.” How different she’d dreamed her life would be, even then. “By the time things went downhill and I needed to get a job, my degree was years old. I’d need some updating and to pass my teaching certification exam. There was always so much to do, I just never seemed to find the time to enroll.”

 

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