To Tame Her Tycoon Lover

by Ann Major

  “It was raining in New Orleans. We had trouble getting out of the city,” he said.

  “I missed you. So did Pierre.”

  “Not that that stopped you from burning up the dance floor with my brother.”

  “Jealous?”

  “Of course not.”

  “You are,” she whispered gently, her eyes seductively aglow. “You don’t need to be.”

  “What?”

  “It’s your turn. To dance with me. But, hey, only if you want to.” Again, her darkly sparkling eyes lured him.

  “I have a date.”

  “Alicia? The merger girl?”

  “That’s not why I’m dating her.”

  “Of course.”

  “I left her entertaining Grandpère. I promised her a glass of wine. I’d better go.”

  “I’m sure your grandfather is enjoying her immensely, and she him. Jake can check on her.”

  “Cici, no…”

  But she had already run over to Jake and was tugging at his long white sleeve. As his twin’s dark head lowered over Cici’s springy curls, his estranged brother looked up and then past her to Logan. Jake’s eyes grew as hard and unforgiving as they’d been right before he’d slugged him and walked out. But when Cici finished talking to him, Jake turned and obediently headed out the other door, no doubt to avoid him on his way to find Alicia.

  Cici returned and threaded her fingers through his.

  “There’s something wrong about this situation,” Logan said. “I should check on Alicia myself.”

  “Trust me. This is a party. We’re supposed to mingle a little. She came here to meet your family, didn’t she? And your Alicia will love Jake. I promise. He’s a do-gooder. She’s a do-gooder.”

  “How the hell do you know so much about Alicia?”

  “Research. I’m a journalist, remember.”

  She pulled him onto the dance floor. “Besides, what can one little dance hurt?”

  Had the snake said to Eve, “What can one little apple hurt?”

  Probably.

  When the music resumed, he crushed Cici more tightly to him.

  Even with the help of her heels, she barely came up to his shoulders. Maybe it was because she was so small and petite that her long-lashed eyes seemed so vulnerable.

  He liked tall, elegant women, he reminded himself. Women who wore classy, backless gowns.

  But Cici looked fresh and wholesome, and her eyes sparkled in such a way that she appeared young and playful.

  He wasn’t supposed to be thinking admiring thoughts about her he reminded himself. He was supposed to be trying to figure out how to get rid of her.

  But it was hard to think when the effect of her body brushing against his was so electrifying. It became even harder after the music took over, and the pleasure of holding her and dancing with her stripped him of his last shred of his reason. When the first song ended, she didn’t let go of him, so neither did he. One tune after another, they kept dancing. Pillars swirled past, as did the faces of those in the crowd watching them, for Cici and he were fast becoming the center of attention now.

  Eyebrows were arched. Curious glances followed them. Not that Logan cared. At one point Jake even tried to cut in, but Logan ignored them all.

  With each dance, Logan held Cici closer, bound her tighter, and slowly, irrevocably the voltage between them grew so strong it charged every atom in his body.

  By the fourth song her eyes were closed, her cheek pressed against his shoulder, her body fused warmly to his.

  When the music stopped, he was rock hard. Opening his eyes, he saw Alicia, who’d been watching them earlier, leaning on Jake’s arm.

  “I’ve got to go after Alicia,” he murmured, but his husky voice lacked passion for the task.

  “Yes, you really should,” Cici agreed, curling a fingertip into his hair. Then another song started, and her body swayed against his. “One more dance?” she whispered as Jake turned and left the room, pulling Alicia with him.

  “I’m sorry. I really do have to go to my date. I don’t know what came over me. I really meant to…to stop after one dance.”

  “Me, too.”

  He bowed before leaving Cici in search of Alicia, who should have been easy to locate in her stunning, backless gown. Since she’d just left, she couldn’t have had much of a head start.

  But neither Alicia’s slender back nor Jake’s broad shoulders were anywhere to be seen.

  Logan was standing at the front door about to ask the valet parkers if they’d seen his brother when his grandfather hobbled up, leaning heavily on his cane.

  “Lost your date?”

  “I was just about to ask the valet parkers if they’d seen her.”

  “Alicia wasn’t feeling well, so Jake drove her home. She told me to tell you not to worry about her, that it was just a headache.”

  “Thanks Grandpère.”

  “Is everything all right?”

  Before Logan could answer, an older woman cried, “I see our birthday boy! Time to open your presents!” Then a bevy of women spilled out onto the gallery, encircled him and led him away.

  When Logan dialed Alicia’s cell phone, Alicia, who always picked up on the first ring, at least when he called her, didn’t answer.

  She had caller ID. His instinct told him she was deliberately avoiding his call. Not that he could blame her. He hadn’t intended to dance with Cici more than once.

  A mist was rising up from the swamp, its curling wisps threatening to envelop the grounds and soon the road with damp. If he was going after Alicia, and he was, he’d be smart to leave now before it was impossible to see. But suddenly, through the veils of mist, he thought he glimpsed a dim light come on in the top rooms of the garçonnière.

  Had he driven Cici from the party, too, the party she’d been so excited about and had worked so hard on? Jolted from his original purpose, he took a step into the mist and then another toward the garçonnière.

  He knew he really should go after Alicia and make sure she was all right, and he would, but first he’d tell Cici goodbye and encourage her to rejoin the party.

  A waiter came up holding a tray of champagne flutes. Logan took two. Slugging them, he smiled before replacing the flutes on the man’s tray. Then, carefully, so that nobody saw him, he backed into the shadows and left the gallery.

  Only when he was well away from the house and concealed by the mists, did he sprint across the thick lawn in the direction of the garçonnière. This time, when he reached the top of the stairs and was breathless from running, he knocked. When she didn’t answer immediately, instead of barging inside as before, he forced himself to pace the landing.

  When she still didn’t answer, he beat his fist against the door again and yelled her name. “I know you’re in there!”

  “Coming,” she said at last.

  Still, it was several more minutes before she finally pushed her door open. Not that she even looked at him. Busy dressing, she bent her head and shrugged into a black T-shirt.

  “Wonderful party,” he said.

  She wore the black T-shirt and dark jeans, but because she’d only lit a single lamp and the garçonnière was full of shadows and her body was back lit, revealing her slender shape which seemed so sexy, he sucked in a breath.

  “I’m sorry I made trouble between you and your date,” she said, turning away as she tucked the T-shirt into her jeans.

  He inhaled sharply again. “That was my fault,” he said, feeling awkward around her.

  When he jerked his eyes from her body, he saw her dress on the floor where she’d tossed it, the garment sparkling up at him as if with wicked glee.

  Cici, her slim back to him now, was squatting on her haunches—well-shaped haunches encased in tight black denim, too. Leaning over, exposing more of her delectably rounded butt, she began to dig through the chaos of her shoes that spilled out of her closet into her bedroom.

  Heat engulfed him, which was ridiculous. He was thirty-five, not some l
ust-driven teenager. Still, his heart began to slam in slow, painful strokes.

  Ignoring him, she shoved bare toes into a jogging shoe and then began rummaging for its mate.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

  “I’m taking the pirogue out in the swamp.”

  “At this time of night? Are you crazy?”

  “What does it look like?”

  “You’re supposed to be Grandpère’s hostess.”

  “I’m supposed to be a lot of things.” She was trembling as she threw her shoes about. “Thanks to you, I need some air. Some space. Lots of it.”

  So Alicia wasn’t the only woman he’d upset. He stepped into her bedroom. “I don’t want you out there. All alone. In danger.”

  “Since when is my putting myself in danger any of your business?”

  “There’s ground fog. You could get lost.”

  “Isn’t that what you want? Me gone? So, big deal! I’m going!”

  “Anything could happen.”

  “So? I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.”

  “Something might eat you.” So, he was probably exaggerating. Still…

  “Hey, there. If this scares you I won’t tell you about the time I had a pilot drop me off at the Zambezi River on a dirt strip, and my contact didn’t show up because he’d been gut shot and was on an operating table. The plane flew off, and I was all alone in a jungle and lions were roaring.”

  She laughed and then stopped. “Sorry.” She paused. “If I’m feeling a little hysterical, it’s because I’m a lot more scared of you than I could ever be of the swamp I practically grew up in. You were right. I shouldn’t have come back. But now that I’m here, I’ve got to figure out how to deal with what I’m feeling. I think best in the swamp.”

  He swallowed. “Cici, the reason I followed you out here is because I don’t want my actions to ruin the party for you.”

  “Oh, really? Is that why?” Again she laughed, but not gaily.

  “I shouldn’t have danced…”

  “Do you think you can lie to yourself and to me forever? You want me. I could see it and feel it on the dance floor. I can feel it now, too. You’re wondering if we’re still as good together as we were in the past.”

  “Why do you always push?”

  “Is it me pushing? Or is it something inside us?”

  He turned away from her.

  “Something like sex,” she said. “Let’s be honest. You’re a man, so, naturally, you want sex, and you think you don’t stand a chance tonight with your Alicia, who’s probably mad as hell at both of us—and I don’t blame her. You think it’ll be easier to get it here from me than from her. Plus, it’ll be of the no strings variety, ‘cause you’re who you are, and I’m who I am. And no strings and something strange is just the thing to tempt most men…especially hypocrites, like you, who can’t even admit what they feel.”

  “No, listen…”

  “No, you listen! Why don’t you do us both a favor and go chase your tame Alicia, who’s so perfect for you? I’m sure she’s more than willing to believe any lie you choose to tell her.”

  “I don’t care about Alicia,” he whispered, shocked by the truth of that statement even as he said it. “I want you. Not her. There! I admitted it! Are you happy?”

  “You’d say anything—”

  “I want you! I’ve tried not to.”

  When Cici stood up, both shoes on now, he had to strain to see her expression in the dim light. “You tried not to? How do you think that makes me feel? We’ve done this before. We made a lot of people miserable, including ourselves.”

  “And I thought you liked living dangerously.”

  “Not tonight. Not with you. Sure, in the past I’ve taken a few risks. Mostly because I was too foolish and young to know what I was doing. Like that time I was telling you about in Zimbabwe. That happened just after…after you’d dumped me and…and I’d left.”

  The incredible pain in her eyes hit them hard. “But this is different. Maybe I’ve had my fill of my heart being broken. Maybe I just want to write for some local newspaper and settle down to a simple, predictable life with a nice boring guy who loves me and is sweet to me. Maybe I’ve finally realized that what I want, which is happily ever after with some boring guy, is impossible with you.”

  He leaned his shoulders back against the jamb of her door. She’d given him his out. He should take it.

  “So, like I said, go. Do us both a favor, and spill your heart out to your pretty, proper, rich Alicia. Like I said, she’ll forgive you.”

  When he said nothing, she took a step toward him. “Damn it, go!” When he didn’t, she took a quick breath.

  He stared at her, willing himself to do as she said and go. But he couldn’t.

  The tension built until the humming in his blood was so loud he was afraid she could hear it. Finally, he crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. The instant his hands wrapped her, she shivered, her heat and passion flowing through him like a contagion. Pulling her closer, he shuddered.

  “Go,” she whispered huskily even as her hands clung to him. “You’re scaring me.”

  “You didn’t used to be afraid of anything.”

  “Not even of hungry lions.” She laughed weakly. “Funny, I value my life so much now that I’m afraid to pick up my camera, afraid of you…afraid of feeling all this…”

  She didn’t look afraid. Her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes glowed. Every inch of her felt electric and silky and hot.

  “I’m afraid of dying now…I think because I want to live so much,” she said.

  The mists were seeping into her wide-open windows, swirling around them. In the distance he could hear the mating cry of a wild bull alligator in the swamp.

  “Kiss me,” he said, his voice rougher, needier.

  Then, too impatient to wait when she remained frozen, he claimed her mouth, driving his tongue deeply inside her with a violence that scared him even more than it frightened her. His hands slipped beneath her T-shirt and unhooked her bra.

  “You taste delicious. Like champagne,” she said.

  He should slow it down, but he couldn’t.

  With a shudder, his arms wound tighter and he forced her closer.

  “Two glasses. Couldn’t resist,” he said. “Not much really.”

  His breath was loud and harsh now. He wanted to possess her with every cell in his being, and he was fast losing control.

  Besides pressuring her, what he was doing was probably wrong on a dozen levels. But when she began kissing him back, hesitantly at first, her lips were sweet and hot and quivering beneath his. Then when she gave him all she had, he was soon driven past all thought and reason.

  As if shocked by the pleasure he gave her, she let out a startled cry.

  His arms wound tighter. He had to have her. And it was more than a physical need.

  To hell with right and wrong and sanity, he thought as his need blazed ever higher until it consumed him.

  “Did you bring a condom this time?” she whispered, sounding as frantic with passion as he felt.

  Six

  C ici was being stupid, and she hated that because she always regretted being stupid later. Logan Claiborne was the one man she should never sleep with because he held the key to a part of herself she wanted to protect forever.

  So why had she made sure he had plenty of condoms? So why was she lying naked on his bed with him sprawled heavily on top of her? They’d barely started making love, but already, with his every caress, with his every kiss, he was stripping her soul so bare that she felt like she was crashing and shattering and flying into a million jagged pieces.

  After he was finished with her tonight, would she ever be able to feel whole again?

  Logan’s mouth traveled from her throat down her belly, across her scar, pausing there and kissing it so tenderly that she wept.

  Her breath stopped and she began to quiver. In a flash she remembered holding their precious son in her
arms that one time.

  Their son. The only human being she’d ever loved half so much as that darling child was Logan.

  Only when Logan’s lips moved ever lower, and he found her softest, most secret flesh and began stroking her there, could she stop thinking about their lost baby and breathe again. But soon, too soon, he had her emotions in turmoil again and she was, clinging and shaking, but by then he was, too.

  Wet and ready for him, even before he spread her legs and laved her long and deeply, she drove her finger through his hair and drew his head closer, moaning as his skillful mouth and deft tongue licked her and sent shiver after shiver hotly pulsing through her, evoking forbidden longings she hadn’t felt in years.

  Hadn’t wanted to feel!

  She bit her lips and tightened her fists in an attempt to fight her fierce pleasure. But it didn’t work because what she felt was too powerful.

  A younger, more naive Cici had imagined herself madly in love with him in this same room. She’d lost that happy, glowing feeling at immense cost to her soul, because he’d thrown her away. To save his brother, he’d claimed.

  She did not want to be in love with him again. He was too cold and logical. Too cruel. He’d shown her once that he was a man who always did what was best for him or his family.

  But what if she was no more in control of her easily bruised heart than she had ever been?

  Maybe her fierce anger and the self-destructive hatred that had driven her to taunt death had been the dark side of her love for him. What if she was willing to risk anything to be his, willing to pay any price for another chance?

  When his tongue found the zone and began licking small, satiny circles, a series of wild thrills such as she had never known rippled through her. Opening wider, she arched her pelvis against his mouth.

  The garçonnière was an utterly dark cocoon. Nine years ago, in this same bed, she’d been a virgin. Again she reminded herself that he’d taken her and then had cruelly discarded her.

  What would he do tomorrow? With these worries in her mind, the hotter her passion grew as Logan claimed her with his mouth and tongue, the more her emotions spiraled into fear.

  She’d borne him a son with hair the exact dark shade of Logan’s. When the doctors had told her that they’d lost her little boy, she’d asked to hold him. After his funeral, she’d locked her terrible secret in her heart, intending to keep it there forever.