Tycoon Takedown (Lone Star Burn #2)

by Ruth Cardello

  He felt her putting up walls to protect herself from him and growled, “Not everything.”

  “Sarah told me you don’t visit your parents very often.”

  “I do when I have time.”

  “Do you?” she turned and looked up at him.

  He couldn’t sustain the lie. “No.”

  Melanie hugged her arms around herself and said, “It sucks, doesn’t it? I used to watch those after-school television specials and love how everyone made up after a fight. Always a happy ending. That’s not life, though. My parents and I had a huge falling-out when Jace was born and we’ve never gotten past it. I visit my parents, but it’s not the way it was before. Amazing how you can be in the same room with someone and still feel so far away from them.”

  “Is that why you moved to Carlton’s ranch?”

  Melanie nodded. “I’d left my parents’ home without a good plan of what to do next. David was actually the one who hired me. He’d heard about my situation and sought me out. He’s like that. He can’t walk away from a person in need. It’s how he ended up working with Tony. Tony was losing a battle with alcohol after one of his clients died. David pulled him back from the edge, so to speak. Saved his life, really. And saved mine in a way.”

  At first Charles wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He was grateful to the man even though Melanie’s admiration for him ignited a twinge of jealousy. “David is the ranch manager I met? The beefy one?”

  Melanie smiled. “He is a pretty big guy. Cowboys come to that naturally. It’s a tough life. A lot of manual labor, but I don’t think David would want it any other way.”

  The only thing Charles liked less than imagining Melanie living on that ranch with a bunch of single men was the idea of her returning to it. “The two of you are close?”

  “Yes. He helps me with Jace. And I’ve never met a kinder man.”

  “He sounds perfect for you,” he said, hating the jealousy he could hear in his own voice.

  “He would be,” Melanie said, and Charles’s heart froze in his chest. “But I don’t love him. I’m holding out for someone I can’t live without.”

  He let out a slow breath.

  “What about you?” Melanie asked. “What are you waiting for?”

  Her question shot right through him, leaving him feeling raw and exposed. He checked the time on his phone. “Let’s head back. The island is about to close.”

  She studied his expression. “I bet you could keep it open if you wanted to.”

  She wasn’t talking about the island and they both knew it. He didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. He wasn’t ready to commit to more, but he also wasn’t ready to let her go.

  Later they walked around Central Park and out onto the streets, hand in hand. Charles couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt—dare he admit it to himself?—happy. He looked down at her and caught her smiling. “How does New York compare to the way you’d imagined it?”

  “Better, except for the smell,” she joked.

  “Says the woman who lives on a horse ranch,” he countered with easy humor.

  “It’s all what you’re used to, I guess. People aren’t very friendly here, but they aren’t overly friendly where I’m from, either. Not anymore. The town I grew up in has changed a lot since I was in grade school. Businesses moved out. The economy took a dive. A lot of people had to leave to support their families.” She shrugged. “No, New York hasn’t surprised me too much. Except the hotel’s bellman. He loves me. Can’t stop asking me if I need anything. I gave him a five-dollar tip when he brought up my bags. Maybe not many people remember to do that?”

  Charles hid a smile. He’d handed the man a hundred-dollar bill that night and told him to keep an eye on her for him, promising to leave him more if she was satisfied with the hotel when she checked out. Melanie’s innocence when it came to how the city worked was a delight to watch. “That must be it.”

  The evening was cooling off nicely and their stroll took them back to the streets. Charles told his driver they wanted to walk for a while and that he’d call when they needed him. He had two plainclothes security men scouting ahead, blending into the crowd, but the initial fervor over their video seemed to be dying down. Nothing stayed in the headlines long in a city that moved as fast as New York did.

  As they walked by a mostly vacant sandwich shop, Melanie paused to read the menu. She said, “They have chili. You think anyone up here knows how to make it?”

  “What are you saying about my city?”

  She smiled cheekily. “I’m saying y’all think you’re badass, but I could bring the heat.”

  You already do, Charles thought, and shook his head to clear the images of what he would do with her later. He guided her inside the small shop and to the counter. “One chili and two waters,” he ordered.

  Melanie smiled again. “I doubt I’ll need the chaser.”

  Charles couldn’t help smiling right along with her. When he was with Melanie, his mind wasn’t racing with everything he needed to do when he returned to his office. He was in the moment and loving every second of it. “We’ll see.”

  Seated at a small round table in the corner of the shop, Melanie closed her eyes while tasting the chili. She took her time evaluating it, then opened her eyes and, with painstaking slowness, licked the spoon clean. “Not half bad, but I’m not sweating.”

  I am.

  “Do you want to try it?” she asked.

  “What?” He was lost to the image of her tongue circling the tip of his cock the way it had circled the spoon.

  “The chili.” Melanie laughed and scooped a spoonful out of the cardboard bowl.

  Charles obediently opened his mouth, holding her eyes, and not letting go of the scenario running through his mind. There was a mild burn from the spices in the chili, but nothing that could compete with the sensations that throbbed through him every time she smiled.

  A heavyset woman in an apron, who looked to be in her late forties, approached their table. She noted Melanie’s Western clothing and said, “I have to ask, what do think?”

  You should go away, is what Charles thought, but he didn’t say it. He didn’t want anything to interrupt their day together, but Melanie had already turned and was smiling at the woman.

  Melanie took another bite of the chili and answered in a kind tone, “You have all the right ingredients, but it lacks fire. My mother always said if you’re going to make chili, you make it so that people have no choice but to remember it.”

  The woman took a notepad out of her apron. “What would you change?”

  “It’s not a recipe,” Melanie said vaguely, “but you know when you’ve achieved it. Would you like me to show you? I could tweak what you’ve already made.” Then she stopped and looked at Charles, suddenly self-conscious. “If we have time.”

  Watching Melanie light up while talking to the other woman was mesmerizing and something that Charles didn’t want to miss, even though it meant temporarily postponing his plans for the rest of the evening.

  “My husband does the cooking here,” the other woman said. She walked away to talk to the man behind the counter, then returned with a funny expression. She studied the two of them, looked back at her husband, and nodded. “Danny says you can change anything on the menu as long as we can have a picture of you two.”

  Melanie sat up straight with surprise. “Why would anyone want—”

  Charles stood, preparing to escort Melanie out of the shop. “That’s not going to—”

  The woman put her hand up to stop them. “Please. We would only put the picture on the wall.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you two when you came in. You’re all over the Internet. No one will believe you were here without a photo.” After a pause the woman offered, “We could name the chili after you.”

  Melanie stood beside Charles and asked, “How could I refuse that offer?” She wasn’t asking his permission, but he nodded and gave it an
yway. She followed the woman behind the counter, pulled her hair back in a ponytail, and donned an apron.

  Bemused, Charles watched Melanie laugh with two complete strangers while she added spices and Tabasco sauce to their chili. She tasted it, then added more spices, and tasted it again. When she was finally satisfied, she scooped some out for each of them to sample.

  The owners snapped a picture of Melanie leaning across the counter to spoon-feed a taste to Charles. He was about to tell them to delete it and use another shot, but the chili scorched all thought out of him. Sweat instantly beaded on his forehead and he shamelessly reached for the water bottle behind him.

  Melanie clapped happily when the owners of the restaurant had a similar reaction. “Now that is a chili you won’t forget.” She was grinning from ear to ear as she took off her apron.

  She was back at his side still laughing when Charles was rocked by a realization: He didn’t want her to leave. Like one of the objects she would have drawn in her sketchbook, she had a place where she was meant to be.

  Here with me.

  It would mean bringing her son to New York, but people had nannies. He could provide for her and for her child, without having to actually raise him.

  “Are you okay?” Melanie asked, and he realized that she’d been saying something to him that he hadn’t heard. He took another sip of water. “Do you hate it?”

  He shook his head.

  No, I like it too much.

  Too much to let you go.

  Chapter Eleven

  Melanie awoke with a start and realized Charles was sitting straight up in bed beside her. She rolled over onto her side and strained to see more than his outline in the darkness. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’ve been thinking,” he said and flipped on the light beside the bed, temporarily blinding Melanie.

  Covering her eyes with one arm, Melanie groaned. “What time is it?”

  “A little past three.”

  “Any chance I can convince you to turn that light off?”

  “You should stay.”

  Melanie sat up abruptly. “What did you just say?”

  “You don’t have to go back. Stay in New York.”

  “And do what?” You? Daily? Because that is great for a vacation fantasy fling, but not so good as a life plan.

  Charles frowned. “Live with me. You won’t have to work.”

  “Just sleep with you.”

  He studied her expression for a moment. “Of course.”

  Maybe it was the serious consideration he seemed to give his answer, but Melanie wasn’t offended—in fact, she bit back a smile and decided to have a little fun with him. “How often?”

  “As often as you want.”

  “Will I have to sign a written agreement?” she asked, fighting to appear sincere.

  “I could have my lawyer draw up some paperwork if you’d like, but I don’t feel it’s necessary.”

  “Oh, I think it is. I want to read that agreement and, if possible, I’d like a video of you asking your lawyer to write it.” No longer able to conceal her amusement, Melanie rolled her eyes dramatically.

  Charles frowned, then a half smile tugged at his lips. “You’re mocking me.”

  Raising one hand, Melanie used her thumb and forefinger to measure an inch in the air. “Maybe a little.”

  He pulled her close and rolled her beneath him, kissing her deeply until she forgot everything but the feel of him. He nipped her lower lip gently and said, “I’m not used to women laughing at me.”

  “Well, after this weekend you can replace me with one who is appropriately respectful.”

  Charles frowned down at her. “You’re not leaving.”

  He wants me to stay. Although his words sent a warm rush through Melanie’s chest, they didn’t change their situation. “What about Jace?”

  “Of course he’d come, too.”

  There was no of course about it. Oh my God, he wants us to move in with him. He’s serious. Putting a shaky hand to her mouth, Melanie said, “It’s not that easy. Jace is happy where he is. I can’t take him away from the only home he has known.”

  “He’ll like the city. Children adapt,” Charles said dismissively.

  “You don’t know that.” She shook her head doubtfully. “If you saw him with his horses . . .”

  “He can ride in Central Park if he likes horses so much.”

  His tone was a cool splash of reality.

  He leaned down and kissed her neck. “We are so good together. Why pretend you don’t want to stay?”

  His words flamed her doubts. Fighting the licks of desire that shot through her at his caress, she pushed at his chest. “It’s not just about us.” When he didn’t move off her, she glared up at him. She was a jumble of emotions that tangled and folded over each other in a bundle of desire, frustration, fear, and sadness. Of course I want to stay with you, you big oaf, but not like this. I won’t settle for less than I deserve—than my son deserves. “Get off of me.”

  “You’re mine.”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m not.” And I can’t let myself forget that.

  “You may lie, but your body doesn’t.” She’d gone to bed in only his nightshirt. He sat back and with one forceful move tore the front of her covering open, sending buttons from it scattering around them. He laved one of her nipples, and desire shot through Melanie. She couldn’t stop herself from arching backward and offering herself more fully to him.

  Their time together had a fantasy element to it, one that would end when she flew home in a couple of days. She’d be back in her normal, solitary existence. Back to a life that held few if any surprises and revolved mostly around what others wanted.

  He thinks this is about him, but it’s really about me.

  I want to go where only this man can take me.

  Melanie ran her hands over his bare muscular shoulders. She dug her fingers into them when his teeth grazed her neck.

  “Tell me you don’t want this.” Charles ran a possessive hand down her stomach and slid a finger between her folds. “You’re already wet for me.” His finger circled her clit slowly, teasing her until she was squirming, wantonly rubbing herself against his hand. “Say it. Tell me to stop and I will.”

  He took her breast deeply in his mouth and mirrored his lower tease, circling her nipple with his tongue but not giving her the direct contact she craved. Melanie grabbed his head with both hands and held him, willing him to repeat what he’d given so freely before. Instead, he raised his head and growled, “You can’t because you want this as much as I do. You know you belong to me, Melanie. Don’t fight it.”

  He reached down and took the belt from the bathrobe she’d worn earlier and tied it around one of her wrists, then quickly looped it around the other and pulled the knot tight. He took the other end of it and tied it to part of the headboard.

  If asked, Melanie would have said she wasn’t the type of person who could enjoy being restrained, but her heart was thudding with excitement and her skin was on fire in anticipation of his touch. He wanted to dominate her and that knowledge was excruciatingly hot.

  She twisted and tested her restraint. He pulled the knot tighter.

  “I could get out of this,” she claimed, even though she had no desire to.

  “But you’d have to want to. And you don’t.” He shed his lounge pants and opened a drawer of a table beside his bed.

  Although Melanie didn’t know what Charles was reaching for, her breathing became ragged as her excitement grew. He held up a blindfold.

  “Do you trust me?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she answered honestly.

  He gently placed the blindfold over her eyes and settled himself beside her, running a hand slowly down her neck, down the middle of her chest, and farther down to cup the inside of one of her thighs. “When you can’t see, all you can do is feel.” He took one of her hands and wrapped it around his jutting cock. “Feel what you do to me.” Then he kissed his way down the pat
h his hand had traveled. The warmth of his breath tickled her thighs as he continued to speak. “Feel what I do to you.”

  He started his passionate assault on her legs. Claiming every inch of them first with his hands and then with his mouth. He took his time exploring her. Each touch shot through Melanie so intensely she shuddered beneath it.

  He spread her legs and thrust his tongue deeply inside her while rubbing her clit with one hand and gripping her ass from beneath with his other. He withdrew and used the slight stubble on his chin against her sensitive nub, and Melanie groaned with pleasure. Had her hands been free, she would have buried them in his hair and held him there, but he was in control.

  When she felt the heat of an orgasm beginning to build within her, he lifted his head. “Are you close?”

  “Yes,” she practically sobbed. “Don’t stop.”

  “Say you belong to me. Tell me you’re mine.”

  She shook her head and his kisses moved to her stomach. “No,” she said, hearing the frustration in her husky voice.

  Just when she thought he’d cheated her of her pleasure, he began to tease and suckle her breasts, and the wondrous heat from before returned tenfold. She thrashed back and forth, unable to think past the need that was building within her. His mouth continued its assault while his hands kneaded and caressed, warming her skin until there wasn’t an inch of her that didn’t crave him.

  She heard him open a condom wrapper and whimpered at the momentary lack of his touch. Unashamed, she spread her legs, eager to feel him inside her.

  He untied her hands from the headboard, but left them bound together. She felt him lie down beside her. “Sit up,” he ordered.

  She did. She could easily have moved the blindfold now so she could see, but he’d been right—she’d have to want to. And, God, she didn’t want to. Every touch, every breath she felt on her skin shot through her more intensely than she’d known it could.

  And from the way he was breathing, she knew he was enjoying their game as much as she was. In that moment she was both vulnerable and powerful.

  “Ride me,” he commanded.