The Enemy's Daughter (Dynasties: The Danforths Book 9)

by Anne Marie Winston

  Oh, well, no matter. He could ask her tomorrow. Still, it irritated him that now he wouldn’t be able to confirm his plans to have her attend several campaign events until she returned. Perhaps he should take a look at her calendar. Leave her a note asking her to reserve the dates he had in mind. Turning, he headed for the wide staircase.

  A few moments later, he entered the small sitting room attached to his daughter’s bedroom. Her delicate writing desk stood before one light-flooded window, computer and planner in plain view. He crossed the room and sank into the chair before the desk, but before he could check the dates in question, a beautiful coffee table book laid to one side caught his eye.

  He drew the tome to him, idly flipping through the pages of extraordinary photographs of Savannah history. Very nice. He wondered where she’d gotten it. He wasn’t big on history and was sure he had nothing like this. Selene always had been an odd child. For all he knew, she could be collecting things like this book now.

  But as he closed the book, something written on the flyleaf inside the front cover caught his eye. Opening the book again, he read the handwritten signature and a muscle began to twitch in his jaw.

  Adam Danforth.

  Adam Danforth! What in hell was his daughter doing with a book that belonged to one of Abe Danforth’s sons? As far as he knew, she had never even met them. He scoured his memory, but couldn’t come up with a single time when Selene would have been introduced to any of the Danforth family. Even when he’d sent her to that ball at Twin Oaks a couple of months ago, she’d come home early saying she hadn’t seen or heard anything interesting.

  Maybe it was an accident that she’d acquired a book that had belonged to Adam Danforth. A coincidence. But still…he hadn’t gotten to this point in his career by being careless.

  Wheeling, he stalked into his office and rapidly punched in a number. When the line was picked up on the other end, he said, “I have a new assignment for you. Adam Danforth. Find out everything about him and get back to me as soon as you can.”

  Adam was waiting for the taxi in front of the restaurant, and he helped her out, then leaned forward and gave her a brief but possessive kiss that nearly melted the shoes right off her feet. Then he tipped the cabbie and lifted her small bag. “Just let me put this in my car, then we’ll go inside.”

  “Adam?” She clutched at his hand as he began to lead her toward the car parked nearby. “Do we…” She gathered her courage and began again. “We don’t have to eat.”

  He stopped in his tracks. His eyes searched her face slowly. “You haven’t had dinner.”

  “I’m not hungry,” she said. Except for you. “We could eat…after.”

  Something moved deep in his eyes, something that sent a flash of heat through her body. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded, smiling tremulously. “Oh, yes.”

  He smiled then, too. “All right,” he said. He led her around to the passenger side of the car and helped her in. Once he was behind the wheel, it seemed a very short drive, only a couple of blocks, really, until he pulled into a parking space in front of a lovely old building that a discreet sign proclaimed was an historic inn.

  He retrieved her bag and led her inside, holding her hand in his, and she wondered if he could feel her fingers trembling. She was trembling all over, or at least it felt like it, with anticipation, excitement and probably more than a few nerves as well.

  Apparently he had registered before she arrived and he took her straight to the lift that led to a room on the second floor. The hallway was hushed and cool and there was a stateliness about the old house that made her feel as if she should speak in whispers.

  When he fit the key into the lock and ushered her into the room they would share tonight, she was charmed by the beautiful four-poster bed with its pineapple motif. The ceilings were high and there was a fireplace along the far wall. Two floor-to-ceiling windows were covered by lavish fabric and opposite the bed French doors led out onto a small, elegant balcony that overlooked a private garden. Tall trees at its far end gave the illusion of total privacy, since all view of other buildings was blocked by the canopy of branches.

  “This is lovely,” she said, taking in the small table on which stood a silver compote piled high with fresh fruit.

  “Yes,” he said, “it is.”

  But when their eyes met, he was looking at her rather than the room. He smiled and held out his hand. “Come here.”

  She went to him, lifting her arms around his neck as he drew her close. He was big and hard and warm and she felt fragile, feminine in his arms. A sudden pang of apprehension shot through her at the thought of what was to come, and he must have seen it.

  “Are you certain this is what you want?” His eyes were golden in the late-day light slanting across the floor.

  She saw from the tension in his face what it cost him to ask the question. “Positive,” she said quietly, forcing her silly female fears to the back of her mind. Adam had never been anything but gentle with her, she reminded herself. He would make it as easy as he possibly could. That thought led to another, which she voiced. “I want you to be my first.” My only. She slipped a hand from his shoulder up to his strong jaw, tracing the firm line of his lips with a single finger. “Make love to me, Adam.”

  His eyes caught fire. “With pleasure,” he murmured.

  He drew her finger into his mouth and sucked lightly on the single digit, his tongue swirling a warm pattern around and around, and she felt herself breathing faster, a heavy ball of arousal settling deep in her abdomen. She smiled, her eyes closing in pleasure as she swayed toward him.

  He released her finger. Slipping one large hand beneath her chin, he tilted her face up to his and took her mouth, giving her deep, drugging kisses to which she could only respond helplessly. Her hands gripped his broad shoulders. Her head fell back and she gasped for air as Adam slid his mouth down her throat.

  Cradling her in one arm, she felt his free hand between them, stripping off his tie and working down the placket of his shirt. “We’ve got on too many clothes,” he said softly against her skin.

  Willingly, she lifted her hands to the buttons as he released her. He shucked out of his suitcoat and tossed it at a nearby chair, then pulled his shirt free of his trousers. As she opened the last button, he unfastened the cuffs and tossed it at the chair, then took hold of his V-necked undershirt and peeled that off, as well.

  She’d seen him just two days before in bathing trunks, but here, he suddenly seemed much larger and much…barer than he had on the beach. Was barer even a word? His chest was a solid wall of muscle, lightly dusted with dark hair that eased down to a thin line and disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants. His flat male nipples were small copper circles studded with tiny points.

  Adam caught one of her hands and lifted it to his chest, lightly brushing her fingertips over one tight tip. His eyes closed and he made an approving sound deep in his throat when she whisked her fingers over him again. “That feels good,” he said in a husky whisper. Then he lifted his hands to the line of buttons that marched down the front of her strappy sundress. “Will it feel good to you, too?”

  She couldn’t speak, could only stand on trembling legs before him as he unfastened her dress until it hung loosely, exposing a thin strip of flesh down just past her waist. She hadn’t worn a bra because the dress had built-in cups, and when his fingers hooked beneath the straps and tugged them off her shoulders, the fabric separated abruptly, baring her breasts to his eyes.

  “Sweet,” he said hoarsely. He brushed the straps down until the dress caught at her hips, then gave it one last push so that it dropped around her ankles.

  Selene felt herself blushing as she stood before him in nothing but a high-cut pair of lacy panties and the high-heeled sandals she still wore. Adam was breathing heavily, his gaze riveted to her breasts. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. He palmed her breasts almost reverently and her embarrassment faded as he cradled them, tenderly brushi
ng his thumbs back and forth over the taut peaks he’d uncovered. The caresses shot streamers of fire licking through her system, zinging down to light a blaze between her legs where she felt herself soften for him. She shifted restlessly and saw him smile. “Yes,” he said. “Do you want me?”

  “Adam,” she said, hearing the plea in the single word, and his smile widened as he bent his head and closed his lips over the tender tip of her breast. He suckled strongly, wringing a cry of pleasure from her as her knees went weak and she clutched at his smooth, bare shoulders. His arms came around her, pulling her hips firmly against him, and she gasped as she recognized the solid weight of his aroused flesh pressing hard into her soft belly. He still wore both his belt and his pants and the fabric of his trousers against her bare flesh was an erotic stimulant. The fire inside her was raging now, stoked by the incessant tugging of his mouth on her sensitive flesh, and she writhed against him, moving herself helplessly over his firm length.

  Adam groaned. He released her and fumbled with his belt, tearing it open and unzipping his pants in the same motion. “Help me,” he said, and his voice was little more than a growl, his eyes blazing with heat and need. Obediently, she put her hands in the waistband of his trousers and pushed them down. As they fell around his feet, she couldn’t resist looking down at the white briefs he wore, stretched taut by the pressure of the very male flesh caught behind the elastic and fabric of the briefs.

  Adam hooked a finger in the briefs and pulled them away and down and she swallowed at her first full sight of him completely unclothed, jutting forward proudly from the thicket of dark curls at his groin. She helped him tug the briefs over his hard buttocks, and then all his clothes were gone. Breathing as harshly as if he’d just run a mile, Adam set his hands at her waist and lifted her, stepping forward to free them both from the tangle of clothing on the floor, and as he drew her against him, she gloried in the satiny feel of his rock-hard flesh prodding at her soft belly. She curled her arms around his neck and her bare breasts were crushed against the hard planes of his chest, the springy hair teasing her nipples. He thrust his hips forward and she practically purred with pleasure. This was what she had been born for, this moment, this man. Slowly, she moved her hips against his, her breasts sliding over his chest.

  He took her mouth again and she felt his hand on her thigh, urging one leg up and holding it wrapped around his waist as she had the other night. The position left her vulnerable, balanced on one slender high heel, and when he pulled her into firm contact with him, they both groaned. She still wore the small panties, and as she felt him rubbing himself steadily against the satiny fabric that barely covered her, she was astonished by the waves of pleasure lifting her higher and higher. Moaning, she angled herself against him to increase the wonderful sensation.

  He swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed, setting her on her feet so that he could sweep the covers back. Then he placed her on the mattress and came down beside her, propping himself on one elbow as he looked down at her.

  She looked up at him, eyes wide. She’d felt exposed when he’d first removed her clothing, but now, lying down, she felt much more vulnerable. Against her hip, she could feel the hard proof of his desire for her, twitching and moving occasionally.

  Slowly, he lifted his hand and laid it flat on her belly and she sucked in a startled breath at the heat that leaped between them. “I want you,” he said, “more than I have ever wanted anything in my life.” He let his gaze slide down from her face over the rest of her body, and a slight smile touched his lips.

  “Adam,” she whispered, overwhelmed by the intensity of his tone, “kiss me.”

  The smile widened. “Gladly.”

  Leaning over her, he touched his lips to hers, lightly at first. Then, with more and more amorous intent, his mouth grew firmer. He touched the line of her lips with his tongue and when she opened to him, he immediately swept in to claim the sweet recess as his own. His free hand slipped up over her torso and found a breast, and he firmly rotated his palm over it as the temporarily banked fires he’d lit within her flared to life again. Her body arched and he chuckled. His hand left her breast and began to slowly journey down her body. At the same time, he slid his mouth from her lips along the line of her jaw until she felt his hot breath in her ear. She jumped as he drew her earlobe into his mouth and began to suckle, and her hips lifted involuntarily at the shocking sensations his mouth produced. Who would have thought an ear could be so erotic?

  But the thought barely cleared her consciousness before it scattered again as his hand slowly traced firm circles down past her naval, each time slipping a little farther, making her shiver with anticipation.

  Finally, he slipped a finger beneath the elastic edge of her panties. “These have to go,” he said, making short work of them.

  As he tossed them over his shoulder, she realized she was still wearing her shoes, and she said, “Let me take off—”

  “No.” He grinned, lifting one long slender leg and looking down the bare length of it. “I kind of like this look.” Then his gaze traced a path back up over her body until he came to the newly exposed nest of soft curls that covered her. He combed his fingers through the curls, watching his hand as his fingers slipped down, curving between her legs. “And this look,” he said hoarsely. “I really like this look.”

  He moved his fingers a little, and she jumped, squeaking as spears of pleasure shot through her body.

  “Relax,” he whispered, pressing against her inner thigh with the heel of one hand until she let him open her.

  “I can’t,” she whispered back. “It feels…too good.”

  His eyebrows arched and she felt the fingers rubbing tiny circles, spreading the moisture that he’d found between her legs over his hand and her flesh, making the contact even more pleasurable. “You’re so wet,” he murmured. “Wet for me.”

  “Adam!” She clutched at his shoulders, uncaring that she was pleading. “Stop! I can’t—I can’t—”

  “Yes, you can.” There was a smile in his voice, but the tone was strained. “Let go, sweetheart. Just let go.” He was crooning to her, low syllables of praise and encouragement, but she barely heard him. Her body was gathering tight, a taut fist of trembling need in her abdomen, her heels digging into the bed as she pushed herself against his hand, unable to resist the seduction of those knowing fingers.

  He rose over her, still touching her as he lowered his head and took her breast into his mouth, and she cried aloud as sharp arrows of pleasure assaulted her. She couldn’t stand it, and her needy, aching body rose again and again to the sweet lure of his magic fingers, drawing her tighter and tighter…

  Until the delicious tension snapped and she screamed, arching against his hand. Waves of incredible pleasure swamped her, breaking over her head and she felt his hand between her legs, fingers plunging deep as she thrust herself against him over and over.

  “Adam!” she cried out through the storm of sensual fulfillment.

  “I’m right here.” He bent and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

  She was panting and winded, lethargy rushing through her to replace the wild excitement of moments ago. But the feel of his hard strength still pushing at her hip was a seduction all its own. She reached down and circled him, softly stroking the hot, smooth length of him, and incredibly, she felt a lingering echo of the intense pleasure she’d just known. “I want you right here,” she said, spreading her legs wide and urging him to her.

  He rolled atop her and she gasped with pleasure as he settled intimately against her. “Here?”

  “Oh, yes. Please,” she breathed. She moved a little, and he closed his eyes.

  “Wait,” he said. “We need protection.”

  He reared up on his knees and reached to the table at the side of the bed, and as he efficiently tore open the small package he must have placed there earlier, she was warmed by his care. As he rolled the condom into place, she reached out to help him, and with a groan, he thrust
himself into her hands, letting her stroke and explore.

  Finally, he came down onto her again. She wrapped her legs around his hips and held tightly to his shoulders as she felt him begin to sink into her. Closing her eyes, she waited for the pain.

  Adam was slow and careful. She felt him hesitate when her body resisted—and then a single stroke pushed him deep inside her. Amazingly, there was almost no pain. The small pinching discomfort quickly faded and she opened her eyes to see his worried face above her. “Okay?” he asked.

  She loved him even more for that. His arms were quivering and his whole body trembled with his need, and yet he was still concerned for her. “Perfect,” she answered. She lifted and lowered her hips experimentally, enjoying the sensation of smooth full pressure that brought a return of the wild pleasure she’d already known.

  And then Adam began to move. Long, powerful strokes that moved her body on the bed. Deep thrusts that ground her sensitive woman’s flesh against his hard male length as their bodies came together again and again, wet flesh rubbing and slapping in erotic rhythms. He was breathing loudly in the quiet room and she suddenly realized that the small whimpering sounds of pleasure were coming from her own throat. In mere moments, the thrilling sensations hurled them over the edge into intense fulfillment simultaneously.

  She dozed in the circle of Adam’s arms but when he shifted, she blinked sleepily. “Sex must be like a drug,” she said. “I’m exhausted and I didn’t even do anything.”

  “That,” he said, “is entirely a personal point of view.” He grinned as she blushed, then glanced at the wristwatch he still wore. “It’s almost nine o’clock. Are you hungry? We missed dinner, remember?”