“I’m not sure how safe I am around you.”
She swallowed. “Don’t be silly.”
“You’re dangerous to my peace of mind.”
Her brow furrowed. “But I’m…I’m harmless.”
“Hardly,” he said with a grin, then let her off the hook by changing the subject. “Did you grow up around Dunsmuir Bay?”
She hesitated, then said, “Yes.”
He chuckled. “You don’t sound sure about it.”
She raised her chin. “I grew up down by the pier, with my grandmother.”
“Oh, yeah?” Adam said, relaxing back in his chair. “I like that area.”
“Yes, I loved living there.”
“You moved?”
“Yes.” She looked away, unwilling to say more.
It sounded to Adam as if there might be more to the story but he didn’t push. Instead, he held his glass up, determined to lighten the mood. “Let’s have a toast. To Fantasy.”
Trish managed a smile as she tapped her glass to his. “To Fantasy.” She took a sip, then put the glass down and groaned. “Everything has been delicious, but I can’t put one more thing in my mouth.”
A vivid image of what else she might do with her mouth almost brought Adam out of his seat. It was absurd. What was it about this woman that made his libido behave as if he hadn’t gotten laid in five years? Perhaps it was because he knew they’d come together soon. Very soon, he’d be able to bury himself in her warm depths. It wouldn’t be soon enough to suit him or his raging erection, however.
Had he honestly thought he could wait for her to make the first move? Impossible.
He was about to suggest that it was time to go, when Jean Pierre emerged from the kitchen with several small platters and began to explain all the desserts he’d chosen for them. Adam’s ardor was effectively extinguished, probably a good thing.
Trish’s eyes grew wider with each little morsel the chef pointed to. After he left them alone, she stared at Adam in dismay.
“This is crazy,” she whispered. “Seriously, I can’t eat another bite.”
“I’m not sure I can, either, but we don’t want to hurt Jean Pierre’s feelings.” Adam speared a succulent miniature fruit tart with his dessert fork and held it out for her to taste. “Just one more bite?”
She moaned and rubbed her stomach. “I can’t do it.”
“But how will we know if it’s suitable for the gala?”
“Why don’t you taste it?” she asked.
“Because I’m the boss and I say it’s your job to taste the desserts.”
Trish laughed. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen that rule in the employee handbook.”
Adam chuckled. “Okay, then do it for Jean Pierre.”
“Oh, all right.” She took a deep breath. “This is for Jean Pierre.”
“Good girl,” Adam said, moving the fork closer. “One little taste.”
She took the bite and licked her lips. “Mmm, it’s really delicious.”
Beguiled, Adam scooped a small spoonful of creamy chocolate mousse and held it out for her to sample. “One more bite, babe. Open wide.”
“Okay,” she said, smiling. “but only because it’s chocolate.”
“That’s my girl,” he murmured.
Time stood still as he watched her close her eyes, open her mouth and take the bite. Then she sighed.
“Oh.” She licked her lips and moaned. “Oh, my God. Oh, it’s fabulous.” She swallowed, then licked her lips again.
In an instant, Adam’s body was tight and aching. So much for playing hard to get. He wanted her with a need that burned right through him. In his current condition, he’d never make it out of the restaurant alive. Fine with him. He’d send the staff home, then make love to Trish right here.
So much for his grand scheme of withholding sex until she begged for it. He was the one who would beg her if he had to. Without even trying, she was the sexiest woman he’d ever met.
She was saying something, but he couldn’t hear her. All the blood that might’ve helped his brain function had recognized a more urgent need and rushed to his body’s lower half.
Adam tossed his napkin on the table and stood. “Let’s go,” he said, almost growling the command.
“Don’t we have to pay the bill first?”
“I own the place, sweetheart.” He came around to pull her chair out. “There is no bill.”
“I guess I really am tired if I forgot that.” She smiled up at him.
But on the way out, she insisted on stopping to thank everyone who’d waited on them, then poked her head into the kitchen and called out her gratitude to Jean Pierre, who came running over to kiss her on both cheeks and thank her profusely.
She had a way of making everyone feel special, including Adam, he thought as he led her out of the restaurant. He was beginning to wonder just exactly who was seducing whom.
Riding up in the elevator, Trish could barely breathe. Her heart raced and she shivered with pleasure, he was standing so close. She should’ve backed away and cut herself off from his touch, but she couldn’t bear to. Not yet. Once they were back in Dunsmuir Bay and reality set in, she would deal with these forbidden emotions. But right now she simply wanted to concentrate on his masculine scent, feel the soft pressure of his arm against hers, appreciate his tall, confident stance and wonder how it would feel to be wrapped up in his arms.
She shivered again.
“You’re cold,” he said, shrugging off his jacket and slinging it over her shoulders. Then he put his arm around her and pulled her closer. “The mountain air can sneak up on you.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, wondering if he’d read her mind. If so, couldn’t he see that it wasn’t the cold making her shiver? Good grief, she was burning up-couldn’t he feel it? But it felt so good to be pressed against his hard body, she never wanted him to stop holding her.
Even though she knew it didn’t mean anything. Could never mean anything. He was just being polite, after all.
Trish made an effort to keep her thoughts casual as she glanced around the elevator. Even in this small space, the hotel’s rustic style prevailed, with a charming bench to sit on and kitschy antler sconces on the walls.
There had been a few times during dinner when she thought Adam might be attracted to her, thought he might even be tempted to kiss her good-night. But he was all business now, holding himself rigid even though he had his arm around her. It was just as well. She had no business thinking they could ever be more to each other than boss and assistant. And, lest she forget, she still had her mission to accomplish, even though at the moment, she could barely remember what that mission was.
It must’ve been the champagne, or maybe the chocolate mousse. She wasn’t thinking clearly at all.
They left the elevator at the top floor and Adam stopped at a door halfway down the hall. Using a card key, he opened the door and held it for her to walk inside.
“Oh,” she said on a quick intake of breath as she looked around the large king-size hotel room, then walked directly to the stone fireplace. A fire had been set recently and was going strong, radiating warmth throughout the room.
There were throw pillows piled on the wide stone hearth for cozying up close by the fire, and the mantel held a sweet display of old-fashioned portraits in small Victorian frames. Hanging on the walls on either side of the mantel were vintage tinted photographs of mountain and lake scenes.
“So pretty,” she murmured, then turned away from the fireplace and noticed the carved wood king-size bed for the first time.
“Wow.” It was a masterpiece, covered in richly brocaded silk with a colorful cluster of pillows. Whole logs made up the frame and headboard, and tall, braided willow branches acted as bedposts. The willows were adorned by gauzy drapes that looped from one branch to the next, giving the room a light, ethereal feel.
The room smelled of pinecones and forest rain. She breathed it all in.
“I’m in awe,” she said, spinning around
to see more. “I love it.”
“I’m glad.” He leaned against the sliding-glass door leading to the balcony. His arms were folded across his chest and he looked relaxed and confident and too sexy for her own good, Trish thought.
He unlocked the glass door and stepped outside. “I know it’s cold, but you should come out and see the view.”
She joined him, grateful for the chilly air. Maybe it would cool off the heat washing through her. Adam stood at the rail, staring out at the lake and the mountain rising on the opposite side-dark, vast and mysterious. The moon had risen and was reflected in the water’s surface.
“It takes my breath away,” she said. “I wish we could stay for a week.”
“Do you?”
“Who wouldn’t?” she demurred. “It’s lovely.”
“So are you.”
She looked away. “No, I’m not.”
“You take my breath away,” he said slowly, his dark eyes shining with intent.
She looked up at him, in time to see him lower his head to hers. In time to tell herself to stop this.
“Adam, I’m not sure…” Trish’s thoughts scattered as he covered her mouth with his. His lips were soft yet demanding and the thrill was instant, the warmth so all-consuming, she wondered if she might go up in flames.
“You’re not sure what?” Adam murmured against her skin as his mouth traveled along her jawline.
Trish barely heard him through the cloud of sensation fogging her mind. “What?”
His deep chuckle reverberated as his hand cupped the nape of her neck. “I’m going to kiss you again.”
She was aware of her heart pounding rhythmically in her chest as she pressed her hand against him. “You shouldn’t.”
He met her gaze. “You don’t want me to kiss you?”
“Whether I want you to or not isn’t the point,” she whispered.
“Then it’s settled,” he said, and returned to ravage her mouth.
The vague thought that nothing was settled flitted away. A soft moan escaped her and her knees nearly crumpled as his tongue urged her to open for him. She obliged him, wanting to taste him, wanting to feel his touch everywhere on her body. He was all heat and hardness as he pressed against her. The world around her dissolved and all that mattered was his mouth on hers, his hands gripping her backside as he aroused and devoured her.
“Oh, Adam, I…”
“I want to make love with you, Trish,” he said, his dark blue eyes gleaming.
She gulped and felt the last of her resolve drain away. “I-I want that, too, Adam.”
“I’m glad,” he said. “It’s cold. Let’s go inside.”
He took her hand and led her back inside and slid the door closed. Still holding her hand, he walked to the bed, where he stopped, kissed her again with slow deliberation, then released her only to pick up his jacket and tuck it under his arm.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m saying good night.”
She couldn’t have heard him right. “You’re what?”
“Saying good night,” he said, cupping her cheek in the palm of his hand and stroking her skin with his thumb. “And thanking you for a fantastic evening.”
He kissed her again and she met him with fervor and a need she’d never experienced before.
“But…but you can’t go,” she said, still not believing him. How could he get them both so wound up only to walk away? How could he kiss her, tell her he wanted to make love with her and then leave?
“Believe me, I don’t want to,” he said, resting his forehead on hers and staring into her eyes. “But I also don’t want to rush you into something you might regret later.”
She almost groaned, knowing she should be grateful for his thoughtfulness. Knowing she should appreciate that he was willing to take it slow. Knowing that she didn’t want him to leave.
“But I warn you that the next time we kiss,” Adam said, skimming his lips against hers, “it won’t stop there.”
He pulled back to meet her gaze. “And there will be a next time.”
She blinked, stunned into silence by his words.
“Sweet dreams, sweetheart,” he said, drawing her close. His hands skimmed down her back to her hips as his mouth hovered an inch from hers. She parted her lips in invitation but instead of kissing her, he whispered, “Until next time.”
Then he opened the door and walked out, leaving her dazed and aching with need.
Seven
I must be out of my mind, Adam thought as the plane soared above the mountains and headed for home. He’d had her just where he wanted her and hadn’t made a move. And though he could stand back and marvel at his own inner strength, he had to question whether he’d made a mistake or not. His body was still clamoring for her despite knowing that she was trying to play him.
Now, as he watched Trish squeeze her eyes shut and clutch his hand, Adam wondered if it was indeed inner strength or just plain stupidity that had caused him to walk away from her. Last night’s kiss had proven that Trish wanted him as much as he wanted her. Sure, maybe she was a gold digger, but he didn’t think she’d been faking the need he’d seen in her eyes. And if the look in her eyes hadn’t been enough, she’d actually said so. Out loud, he reminded himself, replaying the moment over and over in his head. His memory was perfect, dammit. He could recall with absolute clarity the scent of her. The feel of her. The shine in her eyes as she looked up at him. And he could hear her whispered voice echoing in his mind.
I want that, too, she’d said, when he told her he wanted to make love with her.
I want that, too.
So, was he deaf, as well as stupid? She’d wanted him. And what had he done? He’d walked away. As a show of strength. To prove that he was his own man and to show the world that no one but Adam Duke would determine his own future. Certainly not some cute-as-hell gold digger. And definitely not his mother.
But what had he gotten for his troubles? A sleepless night, an aching body and a temper on the edge of snapping. Why the hell did it have to be Trish James who appealed to him on every level?
He’d walked away to prove that he wasn’t the kind of man who would roll over and play dead just because Trish James said she wanted him.
“So how’s that whole ‘determine your own future’ thing working for you?” Adam muttered under his breath. Then he shook his head, thoroughly disgusted. “It’s not working well at all.”
Because he hadn’t determined anything, he told himself. In making his choice to thwart his mother’s matchmaking attempts, he’d been reacting, not acting. He hadn’t made the choice he’d wanted to make. He’d made the only one he could make. So, really, his interfering mother and the gold digger she’d set on his scent were still in charge. And the knowledge of that was enough to kick his determination into high gear. There was no way they would win this game. No way at all.
“Did you say something?” Trish asked, her eyes fluttering open.
“No,” he said, irritated that she’d caught his muttering. “Just thinking out loud.”
She nodded, then looked down at their hands and carefully pulled hers away. “Sorry. But thanks for the hand-holding. Again.”
He refused to acknowledge that he missed the feel of her hand in his. Clearly, he was still wound too tightly.
“Whatever gets us off the ground,” he said, smiling though his jaw was tense enough to crack walnuts.
“It seems to work.” She smiled shyly, then didn’t seem to know what to do next, so she pulled out her notes from yesterday, opened her laptop and began typing.
He watched her slim, graceful hands strike the keys, then glanced up to see her squint as she studied her notes. Absorbed in her work, she began to nibble at her bottom lip in concentration, and Adam had the most maddening urge to pull her into his arms and nibble that lip for her. Dragging her off to join the Mile-High Club probably wouldn’t be the most professional way to start the business day, but at this point he really d
idn’t care.
The jet leveled off and Adam forced himself to open his briefcase and get some work done. If he could focus on upcoming concerns, maybe his mind would stop wandering to Trish. He pulled out the documents he needed to study for a meeting later this afternoon and tried to concentrate on them. But it was impossible with Trish sitting so close to him. He glanced over and saw her staring at her computer screen, now filled with her notes from yesterday’s survey with the ADA lawyer. She looked fresh and businesslike this morning in a blue-gray suit and a simple white shirt. She hadn’t pulled her hair back so it hung loose and thick and wavy around her shoulders and she wore some sultry perfume that wafted into his brain and turned his thoughts to soggy oatmeal.
Who was he trying to fool? There’s no way he was going to get any work done. He wanted her more now than he had the night before, which he wouldn’t have thought possible. Now that he’d tasted her, he knew it was only a matter of time before he would have all of her.
A matter of time? No. He wanted her now. Wanted his hands on her curvaceous breasts, wanted his mouth on every single inch of her skin. He was rampant at the image of those long, shapely legs wrapped around him. Muttering a harsh expletive under his breath, he subtly adjusted himself in his chair.
He would have her tonight, of that he was certain. There would be no walking away from her this time.
With that settled, Adam ruthlessly squelched his desire for Trish and forced himself to get down to the business of running his company.
“This has got to be the longest day in history,” Trish muttered as she sat at her desk later that afternoon. She’d been trying all day to forget about the night before, forget about that stunning kiss and focus on her job.
Earlier, she’d actually considered claiming she was ill and going home. But if she’d gone home, she’d just be staring at her four walls and slowly driving herself insane. But being here at the office, so close to Adam and not being able to do anything about it, was driving her batty.
“And just what would you do about it if you could?” she asked herself bitterly. “He doesn’t want you, remember? You were practically begging him to make love with you and he walked out.”
The Millionaire Meets His Match Page 8
