Love Of A Lifetime

by Murphy, Riley

  “Wh–where is everyone?” She edged into the room and looked around while she waited for his answer. Until she heard it, she refused to put down the umbrella.

  “Everyone? You mean those reporters?”

  The stranger unfolded to stand. He had to be about six-foot-six, give or take an inch. Not that exact measurements mattered when such a mammoth confronted a gal of five-foot-four. An inch or two either way was immaterial until he turned in her direction and his heavily muscled frame blocked all the light from the roaring blaze behind. For some reason she had the urge to make the sign of the cross, which immediately put her on the defensive. “Yes, I mean the reporters. Where are they and who are you?” She rudely jabbed the tip of the umbrella his way for emphasis.

  His grin flashed a second before she was treated to another one of his chuckles. It was a dirty one, too. Her eyes narrowed while she waited for him to step out of the shadows and once he did, she worked to hide her shock. Seeing him in the full light of the fire’s shine, she had to admit the guy was beyond gorgeous.

  An abundance of coal-black hair fell in soft, wavy layers down to his shirt collar where the ends curled as if each strand wanted to kiss his neck. Broad shoulders. Bulging biceps. A chest that filled out a shirt better than any body builder she’d ever seen. Trim waist. Muscular thighs… And when her gaze traveled back up the length of him and she saw his face, she stepped back. His features were more perfect than the rest of him.

  “Are you go-going t-to answer me?” she stammered. She couldn’t help it. His strong, chiseled features had her pulse dancing all over the place. Testosterone virtually emanated from his every pore and came at her in sensual ripples that nearly took her breath away. Even the shape of his mouth, which currently had one edge tipped up with a ghost of a smile hovering over it, had her heart beating against her rib cage triple time.

  “I might be persuaded.”

  That sentence skated over her like silk on glass. Causing her to shiver as his dark eyes drilled into her and pinned her with a molten look, so intense, so purely sexual in nature, that it took all of her will to maintain a coherent thought in her head. She couldn’t seem to get oxygen either, and just as she was scrambling to come up with some clever retort, and possibly gain some air back in her lungs, those gleaming eyes shifted from hers, and slid purposely down to the umbrella. He stared at it meaningfully before she took the hint. With heated embarrassment singeing her cheeks, she slowly lowered her weapon.

  “My frie—um, colleagues aren’t here, are they?” Suspicion and panic choked her, but oddly, there was no fear of him. Why?

  As if the stranger had guessed her thoughts, his winged brows rose in interest and he smiled. “No, they’re not. Does it matter?” He continued to stare so she answered him.

  “N-no.” Was that her voice so soft, ineffective, and strangely accommodating? What was she saying? Of course it mattered.

  “I didn’t think so.” He walked to the couch and sat down on the huge upholstered arm. Once he was settled, he whispered, “Come here.”

  What the hell was wrong with her? Why did she put the umbrella down? In her mind, she thought this was the most ridiculous thing to do. Like she would obey him simply because he told her to, but then her feet moved, one step, then two, until finally she was standing right in front of him, unsure why she was there at all.

  “Are you warm enough?” His soft and husky question made her shiver. An action that had nothing to do with the temperature as there was a hint of promise buried in those words that suggested he was prepared to do something about it if she weren’t.

  “I better go.”

  Lightning fast he stood. Almost menacing as he towered over her. “I prefer you stay.”

  Finley didn’t look up. Instead she closed her eyes and experienced the scent of his released breath as it wrapped around her. Cinnamon. Like the Red Hots she loved. Delicious. Intoxicating as a thrill went through her.

  “Are you sure you’re not cold?”

  No, she wanted to scream. I’m hot. On fire…for you. Instead she shook her head and opened her eyes, looking up. Not all the way up because his rugged features, with those penetrating jade-colored eyes, had a power over her she couldn’t comprehend. It didn’t take her more than a second to realize the rest of him was equally as magnetic. The onyx curls that curved around his white, pristine collar begged to be touch, rubbed and combed, while the shadowy layer of stubble-roughened skin on his throat beckoned to be kissed and nuzzled. God, even the huge expanse of his chest made her tremble because all she saw was herself disappearing in the strength of his embrace.

  “Let me take this off you then.”

  She didn’t move. Didn’t breathe even, as he slowly unwound her scarf and pulled it across her left shoulder. Her hair caught against it and shifted with the material as both slid down over her chest, the coarse wool doing a tantalizing drag over her breast where her hair stopped in a bounce to further tease.

  “Beautiful.”

  She watched the scarf fall from his hand. The action was unhurried and purposeful. As if this were only the first of many items he was going to take from her. “I-I better go.”

  “I want you to stay.”

  His arm lifted and he slowly turned his hand until his palm was facing up. Her eyes focused on the sterling ring he wore, but then she blinked and paid attention to the action.

  The gesture was ordinary and yet so unexpected. If he thought she was going to put her hand in his, he had another thing coming. She stared at it even as she tentatively backed up. She would have gotten some respectable distance between them if she hadn’t tripped on the edge of the area rug.

  “Careful.”

  He grabbed hold of her and she wasn’t sure whether it was almost falling or being held in his grip that was warm, sure and wholly possessive, that caused her to gasp. All she knew was that she was in over her head. Drowning and she hadn’t even abandoned ship yet. But if there was ever a time…

  “I really should leave.” She studied his buttons and waited for him to let her go. Hot cinnamon and heady spice surrounded her. The scrumptious combination made her lightheaded. Dizzy.

  “You’re going to stay.”

  The shock of that finite pronouncement pulled her out of the daze she was in as she finally shot a look up and demanded, “Who put you up to this? Please tell me it wasn’t Jesse Alt. I thought—I wanted him to be my—”

  “Your what?”

  He let go of her so fast, she teetered. Once her feet were firmly planted and she’d scooped both sides of her hair behind her ears, she answered him, “My friend.”

  His dark scowl eased into a frown and when he softly whispered, “Why?” her heart skipped a beat. It was the oddest thing. How ferocious he was one moment, and then completely tender the next. This whole bizarre interaction reminded her of a scene between Beauty and her beast.

  “Why?” he asked again.

  There were several answers she could have given him, but only one that she should give him. In the end she chose neither, and said, “He was supposed to help me to get my first great interview. But now I think his being nice was all for show. I know those guys were mad when my name turned up on the list.” She’d been foolish to ignore her instincts. Interviewing the reclusive Jack Midland was tantamount to gaining an audience with the pope. And, being that the most popular guest she’d ever landed on her little lifestyle blog for her local paper so far was the host of a public television show about cats, she’d been right to be suspicious.

  Yes, the more she thought about it, the more convinced she became. “They probably slipped me a mickey or something. So what? Did they pay you to stay behind to babysit me?”

  He sat back down on the couch and folded his arms over his chest. “Tell me, do I look like a babysitter?”

  Good point. He looked more like the type of guy who could crush an unsuspecting sitter with his bare hands if he had a mind to. “Um, no.”

  “Glad we established that, a
s I’m not one.” His look devoured her from head to toe. And when his eyes lingered on her bare feet she tried to hide them under her pant legs, but it was no use.

  Slowly he tilted his head and stared right at her. “Are you sure you’re not cold? The wood can be—”

  “I appreciate your concern, but I’ve got bigger problems than potentially freezing to death. Are you going to give me a lift up to the main house, or am I going to have to walk the distance in bare feet?”

  When he uncrossed his arms and slipped his palms down each of his thighs, stopping at the knee, her breath caught in her throat. Her heartbeat sped and that heat that had invaded her when she’d heard those whispered foreign words earlier was back with a vengeance. She opened her mouth to question him about this phenomenon, but before she could, he stood and went to the window. His departure took the heat and sizzle between them away.

  She didn’t move as he drew back the heavy brocade drapes and stepped aside. Although darker now, she could still make out the swirling snow falling heavily beyond the arched window.

  “I don’t think it would be wise to go out in this, do you?”

  “I have to.”

  He let the drapes go and shook his head. “No, you don’t. Nothing is so important that you should risk your life and limb.”

  “Oh yes. You don’t understand. I need to interview the guy.” She was prepared to lay it on thick in order to convince him. “Really, I’d…” She couldn’t get any more words out. His penetrating stare silenced her. His full attention, directed right at her, acted like an unspoken warning. And the way the jade-green of his eyes turned to a deep and dark emerald color made her breathless. Wary. Wanting something she couldn’t put a name to.

  “You’d what?”

  He pronounced the “t” in that last word so succinctly she flinched. Before she thought about what to answer him, the words just tumbled out. “I’d be forever grateful if you’d help me.”

  The wood in the fire hissed and popped as he examined her. Was he trying to decide? If he was, he wasn’t happy about it because now he was back to scowling again.

  “How grateful?”

  Wow, there was no mistaking that innuendo. If she had to put a description to his tone, she’d have say, audible sex. She nearly melted, but once she mopped herself up and got it together, she scowled right back at him. Wet dream come to life, or not, the guy needed to know she had boundaries and he’d just trampled them. “I’ll mention you in the Pulitzer prize winning article I’m going to write on Midland.”

  Holy hell, he smiled and her knees nearly gave out. No man had the right to look this gorgeous. It wasn’t fair.

  “That’s it?”

  “Isn’t it enough?”

  “No.”

  His smile eased to a grin as he walked toward her. The closer he came, the more the warmth inside her spread. Until heavy tingles invaded her breasts, making her already spiked nipples harden in anticipation of being touched. Just the thought had an pulsing ache sweeping through her to stall right between her legs, where it pulsed so hard that hot desire spilled to soak her panties and she nearly passed out. If he hadn’t taken hold of her arms she was sure she would have crumbled. It took every ounce of willpower she had to get her next words out. “P-please help me find Jack Midland.”

  “I already have.”

  “Y-you? You can’t be him.”

  His scent, the heat and yes, lust that coursed through her shook her to the core. She tried to fight it off and when she couldn’t, she attempted to rationalize it. Maybe she was still feeling the effects of whatever her colleagues had given her. Why else would she be feeling as if she were stuck in an erotic dream?

  She didn’t fight him when he pulled her in close. Now she was helpless. Fully caught in his shadow and when he curled down over her, she was lost.

  He searched her face, her shoulders, pausing to examine her neck before he huskily promised, “I’ll be whoever you want me to be.”

  His head descended and that sensual heat flared within her. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Her whole body trembled with need. She wanted to give into it. She wanted to let go but—“No.”

  “Oh, yes.” He leaned down, and when his lips connected with her neck, her knees buckled well and good. Right out from underneath her. Thankfully, he hauled her in close and tight as he spoke softly against her throat, “Tu me manques.”

  Odd was the only word that came to her as she processed that phrase. Finally a language she could understand. French. But what did he mean by, “You are missing from me”?

  Chapter Two

  Jack used every bit of strength he had to fight off the urge to taste her. It wasn’t time. She wasn’t ready. But damn, she smelled like sun-warmed flowers. Clean rain. Every nicety he’d been without for a lifetime. He crushed her to him as savage joy threatened to rip him apart. She was a beautiful wreck and once again she was his. His. He rubbed his jaw against her cheek and was completely at ease for the first time in decades.

  “I’ve waited so long for you,” he said.

  “I feel as though I’ve missed you to. But I don’t even know you. This…this doesn’t make any sense.”

  An inordinate amount of peace descended. Just knowing that she wasn’t completely immune to him gave him hope. “Don’t try to reason. Not now.”

  He intended to enjoy the feeling of wellbeing but, then he realized his peace came with a hefty price attached. The intensity was too much. It caused her to tremble and quake.

  “Please. I-I can’t breathe.”

  He should have been kind to her. The situation called for it. The circumstances demanded he be the ardent or patient suitor at the very least until she had her bearings around him, but he couldn’t conjure that man now no matter how hard he tried. Worse, ingrained instinct had taken over. This situation was as new to him as it was to her.

  “Good,” he whispered in her ear. “I want you gasping for breath until the only air you need to survive is the oxygen I provide for you.”

  “Wh-what? No…Please…”

  “Yes,” he said, unable to contain the surge of satisfaction that shot through him when her eyelids dipped to close. Even though he reasoned her acquiescence had nothing to do with her surrendering to him, than it had everything to do with her being powerless against the lust-fueled force between them, raw need drove him.

  “But…”

  “Don’t fight it, mia lei. Don’t.”

  She slowly shook her head. “This isn’t right.”

  “I want your trust, you’re mine. My treasured possession. Say it.”

  Her brows furrowed, yet she didn’t look at him. “I can’t say that.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m scared.”

  That heartfelt admission tore through him. He closed his eyes and leaned down to rest his forehead against hers in an effort to draw some strength. He’d taken every precaution to get her here. To keep her safe until she was once again in his arms. But now that she was, there was nothing he could do about his own impulses. Forces inside him that he had little control over. An urge that pushed him to claim. Conquer. Consume, until they were one again.

  He held her tight. “There is nothing to fear, mia lei. It is my destiny to hold you through your darkest moments, even if I’m the one who has caused them. I will always bring you back to the light. To a safe place. The only place where you are not broken. I swear once you are buried in the sanctuary of my embrace you will be whole again.”

  “How do you—” she pushed against him, struggling to break free, “—know this about me? Let me go. Please.”

  He didn’t want her to get hurt, so he fought the monumental craving he had to hold her prisoner, and let her go. Watching as she took two long steps away from him. The cold that seeped into his heart at her desertion nearly broke him. It also reminded him that he needed to be strong. Vigilant if he hoped to make this work. Hell, if he did succeeded with this plan, there was no guarantee they’d have a chance at fu
ture together for the very reason that the plan had worked. Circumventing her intellect was not something he’d ever done. It was disrespectful and beneath both of them. He’d almost decided against it, until he gauged her rising panic. Spying this, he realized he would have to connect with the one part of her that wouldn’t deny him. Her body. That part of her would give him what her mind could not.

  “Undress for me.”

  She took another step back and shook her head, sending those pale curls swaying around her. “There’s something happening here. I think there’s something wrong with me. I don’t feel right.”

  He kept his gaze directed on her face even though she refused to look at any part of him above his shoulders, and whispered, “You feel it then?”

  “No.” She tried to deny, but the proof was evident before she brought her arms up to cover her fully erect nipples. There was little chance the chill caused that reaction as nothing but simmering heat flared between them.

  “Look at me.” She wouldn’t, so for now he’d have to use carefully chosen words to bring down her defenses. “All right then. It’s time for some truths. You are mine. Flesh and bone. Heart and soul. Mine.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  She was searching for an escape as she said this and spying her desperation, he lowered his voice, “Understand this then. I own every satin inch of you. You hide nothing from me. Nothing. Especially the pleasure your body experiences just being near me.”

  She gasped. “How dare you? You have no right—”

  It was instinct that made him move. Hunger that pushed him to the edge, when he lunged for her. Bending her back and forcing her to look at him. She did, but only to stare at his chin when he rasped, “I have every right as I’m the man you need me to be so you can be happy.”