What was she doing?
Without glancing at her, Mark brought the back of her hand to his mouth. His hand was so warm, as was his mouth. It was like he breathed heat into her.
“I said Crêpes Suzette because I like them, but we can have anything you want. The room service menu includes raspberry cheesecake and crème brûlée.” He turned his head and smiled down at her. His face was sharply chiseled with high cheekbones and lean cheeks. His default expression was sober. Almost grim, actually, as if his boring business were a dangerous profession. His rare smiles changed the contours of his face. He didn’t smile that often but when he did, the smile reached his dark eyes. “Your choice. Your choice in everything.”
Standing so close to him, she was overwhelmingly aware of how tall and amazingly well built he was. Certainly for a plumbing supplies importer. She’d have thought that an importer would be the kind of businessman who sat at the computer all day comparing spreadsheets. But Mark had huge shoulders tapering down to a lean waist and carried himself with athletic grace.
He was much larger than she was, but she didn’t feel overwhelmed by him. He was standing close to her but not so close she felt smothered. Their shoulders touched and of course they were holding hands. It felt …good.
She looked up at him. “I love Crêpes Suzette. There was a crêperie on my street when I lived here as a student. The shop had a little stand out on the sidewalk where they’d prepare fresh crêpes for you at a third of the price. I used to love buckwheat crêpes with Nutella.”
“Hmm.” Mark furrowed his brow. “I could try ordering those. I’m sure the chef knows how.”
Harper laughed, relaxing a little. He looked perplexed, as if someone had just commanded him to play Mozart but he didn’t play the piano.
“Don’t worry about it. I love it when they light the Grand Marnier.”
“Me, too.” He smiled at her. “I like it when you laugh. You don’t laugh often.”
There really wasn’t an answer to that. Luckily, the elevator pinged and the doors opened onto a hallway with a light turquoise runner with huge roses on it and consoles with vases of flowers in front of elaborately beveled mirrors. The vaulted ceiling was frescoed with roses. The air was scented with lavender.
It could have passed for any ancient castle in any fairy tale. She’d seen the first Beauty and the Beast a thousand times. She was surprised there weren’t human hands holding light sconces along the walls.
Mark turned right, still holding her hand. Harper was looking around with interest when they stopped in front of a door. He didn’t seem to have a card key in his hand but suddenly he was holding the door open for her.
She walked in and nearly gasped. The suite was gorgeous. They were in a small sitting room with a light green brocade couch and two matching armchairs. It smelled of a rose-based potpourri. Mark switched on two table lamps with crystal bases and cream silk shades. He took off his jacket and held his hand out for hers, tossing both of them onto an armchair.
She heard him speaking softly into the phone while she walked around, touching the armchairs, the pearl-inlaid picture frames, an ormolu clock on a side table.
The door to the bedroom was closed. She still hadn’t completely decided about that part of the evening. But right now, she was enjoying being in this beautiful room with this man.
“It’s a real suite,” she said. “At the Ritz. I imagined my being here one day but only when I’m 50 and have made my money. The plumbing supply importing business must be going great guns.”
“I have a very generous boss. Me. And he gives me a very generous expense account,” he replied. He sat on the couch, making a huge dent in the cushions. He patted the area next to him. Okay. She didn’t have any problem sitting next to him. It felt good, feeling his body heat, brushing his powerful shoulder with her own.
Harper shook her head. “I like your boss. He pays for a car to pick you up at the airport and for a suite at the Ritz. My boss is so cheap he won’t pay for a taxi from the airport even when I arrive late in an unknown city, let alone a car and a driver.”
Mark frowned. “It’s important to arrive rested when you’re going on a business trip. Your boss should understand that. Not to mention safety issues.”
Harper gave a light laugh at the thought of Ivan the Terrible caring one way or another what shape she’d be in after a business trip. “My boss is a sociopath and he’s incapable of understanding anything of the sort. Though he is very generous with our budget when it comes to himself. No, this trip is my own research trip, paid for with my own money. Which is why I sprang for business class and a nice hotel. Nothing like this, though.”
She looked around the room admiringly. Everything was just perfect, she thought. The many floral arrangements were fresh, the marble and wood gleamed, absolutely everything was pleasing.
Including the man sitting beside her.
For the first time, she admitted to herself how attracted she was to him. It had sneaked up on her stealthily. He was so not her type, though to be honest, her type had proved disappointing, over and over again.
He was smart but not an intellectual, well dressed without being trendy, knowledgeable about how the world worked without being a bore.
Since he wasn’t her type at all, the attraction had been slow to burn, without her even noticing it.
Maybe she was attracted because he was just so male, without being a creep in any way. He just gave off these amazing male vibes in the old-fashioned sense of male. He was an adult; most of the men she dated felt like kids in comparison, fretting about status and money and needing for her to be impressed.
Mark did none of those things. What he did do was throw a veil of protection around her, which was crazy. Harper didn’t need protecting, she could make her own way in the world just fine. Nonetheless, over the course of that long flight, he’d managed to make pleasant, non-boring conversation while reassuring her with his body language alone. She was a nervous flier and when they’d hit a bad patch of turbulence midway across the Atlantic, she’d clutched his arm instinctively. He’d put his hand over hers and had given her an amusing rundown of the movie they’d both been watching.
He’d taken her mind off the turbulence, he’d made her laugh and she’d completely let go of her fear.
Mark Redmond was big and tall and strong, and though she thought herself completely unsusceptible to those things, her hormones had sandbagged her. Who knew she had hormones that could take over and drive?
“Your boss is a moron,” he said, completely seriously.
It startled a laugh out of her because it was so true.
“There,” Mark said, running the back of a long finger down her face. “There’s that laugh again. I like it when you laugh.”
She heard the words, but it was as if they were coming from very far away. They jumbled in her head, meaningless. What did penetrate was the heat his soft touch sparked under her skin, as if his fingers shot electricity. Close up, his size was almost overwhelming. He’d taken his jacket off and his shoulders and biceps strained the elegant white shirt. His thighs, too, were huge.
A shiver of sexual excitement ran through her body, so alien she almost didn’t recognize it.
But he did.
Somehow, he latched on to what was happening with her faster than she did. Every part of her was open to him, something unfurling inside her like another person waking up, looking around and liking what she saw.
Her eyes were open wide, as were her nostrils and mouth, as if she had to take in more oxygen to deal with her body’s excitement. Her chest expanded, breasts swelling against her bra. She didn’t dare look down at her chest because she could feel her nipples growing harder, something completely out of her control.
Please don’t look down, she silently begged Mark. And—thank you, God!—he didn’t. His eyes were fixed on hers.
And below the waist… Mmm. Her sex somehow opened and softened, as if she were being touched by him.
/> The air between them almost shimmered with sexual tension. She’d never felt anything like this before.
Without thinking about it, she moved forward because there were magnetic lines between them and that’s how it had to be. She had to be in his arms, right now.
Though his expression was always bland, gentle, now he looked hard. The muscles of his face were pulled tight, nostrils white, brackets around his mouth. He looked under strain, but it wasn’t that. This was male arousal, and though she’d never seen arousal quite as intense as this before, she instinctively recognized it. It was something beyond experience and beyond words—an instinct as old as mankind.
They moved toward each other, her mouth slowly opening, eyes slowly closing…
A soft knock sounded at the door.
Her eyes opened, she took in a deep breath and pulled away. Like a swimmer about ready to take the high dive then stepping back at the last minute.
It was as if something broke.
Mark sat up straight and that hard look disappeared. His mouth turned up at one corner.
“The crêpes,” he said, and sighed.
“What?”
Harper couldn’t follow what he was saying.
“The Crêpes Suzette.” Mark dropped a quick kiss on her mouth, their first. So fast she didn’t have time to react. He walked quickly to the door and opened it. A tuxedoed waiter stood in the hallway pushing a restaurant cart.
Oh. Of course! How stupid of her. They’d ordered Crêpes Suzette and she’d completely forgotten about it. Her hormones had wiped about 50 IQ points from her mind.
This was not good. Whatever was going to happen between her and Mark, she needed to keep her wits about her. It was never good to let one’s guard down. She believed that fervently.
And here he’d reduced her brain to cream of wheat with no effort at all.
The waiter rolled in the cart, stopped it and removed a huge silver cover. Underneath were two rose-patterned dessert plates, a long-handled copper saucepan, a bottle of Grand Marnier and a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket. He pulled a table away from the wall, set two chairs, and placed the dessert plates with orange-infused, folded crêpes and two crystal flutes on the table, and the ice bucket on a stand.
The waiter tipped some Grand Marnier into the saucepan, lit it, and poured the flaming alcohol over the crêpes. Mark accompanied him to the door, discreetly handing him a tip. By the time he returned, the flames had gone out and the crêpes looked luscious and rich, glistening with orange marmalade and the liqueur.
She smiled up at him. “You missed the best part.”
He held out her chair. “No, the best part is the eating.”
“So true.”
He popped the cork of the champagne and filled their glasses. He lifted his and gently pinged her glass. The lovely tone of fine crystal filled the air. “Here’s to you.”
Harper sipped, on more even ground now. For a second, her hormones had got the better of her. This was familiar, though maybe unusually pleasing in all ways. Beautiful hotel room, excellent champagne, superb crêpes.
And the man himself…wow. He just seemed to get better and better. Not at all the boring businessman seatmate she thought had been her fate when she’d settled in the plane. She’d been prepared to be bored and maybe even annoyed all the way across the Atlantic.
Instead…here she was, with a man who hadn’t said anything foolish or self-serving yet and who exuded a quiet but potent male appeal. And was really built.
Was that it? Was she that shallow? Was she so intensely attracted to a man because of his muscles?
She tipped her glass to his again, for the pleasure of hearing that pure silvery note of crystal ring out. “To you, too.”
He smiled at her over his glass, put it down and cut his first slice of the Crêpes Suzette. “Mm.” He closed his eyes, opened them again and looked straight into hers. “Delicious.”
Her heart gave a huge thump in her chest.
Oh, dear.
“Try it.” Mark cut a bite of his own crêpe and held it out to her. “It’s fabulous.”
She closed her eyes as she chewed. Damn, it was fabulous. She opened them to find him staring at her, heat in his dark eyes. They glowed as if lit from inside his head. He wanted her, it was plain to see.
“God,” he said. “You’re sexy when you eat. But then you’re sexy when you’re not eating, too.”
She chewed and swallowed until her plate was empty, then put her fork down on her plate. “I don’t know how to respond to that.”
His hand covered hers again, huge, hot and calloused, unusually so for a businessman. “You’re right. It was a dumb thing to say. My only excuse is that it’s true. I want you.”
There, it was out in the open.
Harper had a perverse mechanism in her. She often took a step back when the man took a step forward.
That mechanism was broken.
Everything felt wound up inside her. She couldn’t go forward and she couldn’t go backward. She didn’t know what to do.
But Mark did. He curled his hand around hers, leaned forward and kissed her.
And that awful grinding feeling of everything inside her coming to a jagged halt ended. Inside, she melted, everything becoming honey smooth.
He only touched her with his mouth, but it was enough to infuse warmth in her down to her toes. He lifted his mouth, kissed her again from a different, deeper angle. His hands rose to slide through her hair, cup her head. Oh, God. The kiss became deeper and deeper, hot and so enticing her heart started pounding in her chest.
They rose together, as one, took a step forward, as one. Mark was kissing her so deeply she couldn’t breathe and had to breathe through him. She needed this kiss more than she needed oxygen. Who needed oxygen? Oxygen was everywhere. This kiss…this kiss was really rare.
It was as if she’d never been kissed before, the feeling almost electric when her tongue met his. She reached up, trying to embrace those broad shoulders, loving the feel of steely muscle against her arms. Mark kept one hand cupping the back of her head, the other on her back, pressing her against him.
He was all unyielding muscle, more like steel or wood than human flesh. Something else was like steel or wood, too. His erect penis was huge and hard against her belly. She gasped when she felt it and his kiss deepened, lips and teeth nibbling against her mouth, tongue stroking hers deep inside.
Harper curled her fingers into his shoulders, but there was no purchase. Beneath the fine cotton of his shirt was muscle so hard she couldn’t dent it with her fingertips to gain purchase. But something in her wanted him closer to her, wanted to explore this new world of heat flaring inside her.
She stepped even closer to him and rubbed her belly against his penis.
Oh God, it swelled even bigger, like a powerful animal flexing against her belly. A vision of that huge penis entering her flared in her mind and her vagina clenched, trying to hold him inside her, even though they weren’t having sex.
Yet.
So that solved that issue. Would she or wouldn’t she? Definitely yes, she would. This amazing excitement, this electric heat inside her was new territory that simply had to be discovered. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before in her twenty-eight years. For all she knew, another twenty-eight years might go by before it happened again.
He kissed her neck while undressing her, distracting her so much she was almost naked before she realized what he was doing.
It was probably a good idea he was undressing her because her hands felt magnetically attached to his shoulders. She let go of him only to lift her arms so he could slip off her silk top.
“Beautiful outfit,” he murmured against the skin of her neck. “But you look even better out of it.” He stepped back slightly and she missed the warmth of his body so close to hers. That span of cold air seemed absolutely intolerable.
It seemed intolerable for him, too, because he undressed with the speed of light, tossing his
clothes over the back of the sofa. His pants slid off to rustle to the carpet, lying there like the shed skin of a mysterious jungle animal, the fine dark wool crumpled on the floor.
She glanced down, then back up at him. “Your pants are going to crease.”
They stared at each other.
What had just come out of her mouth? She drew in a deep breath, absolutely mortified.
“I’m so sorry,” she gasped. “I can’t believe I said that.”
Here she was, minutes away from what she was sure would be the best sex of her life, and she was talking about possible creases in his pants? How uncool was that? What was wrong with her?
There was a dent in his cheek that might be a smile. He ran the back of his forefinger down the side of her face. “You’re nervous.”
Ordinarily Harper would never admit that. Why should she be nervous? It was just sex. But…she was.
“No,” she said. “Maybe.”
Mark bent his head to her. “I don’t want you nervous.” He kissed the side of her mouth, moved his lips over her jawline, down the side of her neck. He licked a spot then nipped it. Not a bite, not quite. He scraped his teeth down the tendon in her neck and she broke out in goose bumps. “I want you relaxed. Pleasured.”
His voice had turned so deep it reverberated in her diaphragm. Oh, God. She’d turned into a human tuning fork, especially attuned to him.
“We’re getting there,” she gasped.
Mark didn’t answer. His mouth moved to her ear, licking inside it, and a deep shudder ran through her body and goose bumps broke out over her forearms. She’d never really realized that the ear was such an erogenous zone.
Everything was an erogenous zone. Her ear, her neck, under her chin, wherever his mouth wandered. When it wandered lower, licking and pulling at her nipple, the pleasure was almost too much. She was shuddering, rubbing herself against his groin, her vagina clenching even though it was still empty.
Heat filled her, from her lungs out. A blistering heat as if the sun had suddenly come up inside her, heat and energy crackling through her, down to her fingertips and toes.
Charade Page 2
