by Mari Carr
“Shea. Please be reasonable.”
She walked to the other side of his desk, leaning toward him with her hands pressed flat across the top. How many times had they faced off in exactly this manner in the past?
“Reasonable? Is it reasonable for society to draw impenetrable lines around women? Is it reasonable to trap us in boxes under the pretense of protection? Why does this male-dominated society assume single women don’t have brains…or needs?”
Travis sighed. “I’ve heard your opinions about the supposed mistreatment of women in society since you were old enough to speak, Shea. We really don’t need to go over them once more.”
She studied his weary face. In the past, Travis used to love to debate. They’d spent hours, nay days, locked in intellectual discourse over a variety of topics. “What happened to you?”
Travis scowled. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”
Yes he did. “What happened to you in the war? How did you get that scar?”
He stood straighter then took a step back, trying to distance himself. She didn’t like it. Travis had never allowed anything to come between them, but there was definitely a wall surrounding him now. “It was a war. Lots of killing, senseless death. I failed to dodge a sergeant’s swing and his sword altered my appearance.”
“I understand you were bedridden upon arriving home.”
“I suffered some injuries. There were others who fared much worse. I can assure you of that.”
She wanted to ask more but Travis’ stance, his entire disposition warned her further questions would go unanswered. “I was sorry to hear about your parents.”
The elder Knights had contracted a fever during the winter, passing away before Travis could be summoned home from war.
He nodded, accepting her condolences in silence. How much loss and pain could one person be expected to endure in a single year? Concern for his mental well-being was one of the main things prompting her request. Travis needed something to take his mind off his woes.
The corners of her mouth tipped up in a small grin. What better distraction than sexual pleasure? She’d read everything she could get her hands on about the act of coupling and she was fascinated, enthralled.
Unfortunately, countless now-wed friends seemed to find the marriage bed a cold comfort. Shea had long ago given up hope of finding a husband. She was too outspoken for most men of her acquaintance. Travis was the only man she’d ever met who didn’t consider her intelligence a major flaw in her character.
“So you won’t even consider my request?” she asked.
“To bed you?” He shook his head. “Absolutely not.”
Shea took a deep breath, refusing to give up the fight just yet. Time to advance to the next level. “Very well. Good day, Travis.”
He narrowed his eyes. “That’s it?”
She nodded. “There seems to be nothing left to discuss.”
“So you will forget this harebrained scheme?”
She gave him a mischievous grin, shook her head and turned to leave.
“Wait,” Travis said. “You’re not going anywhere. Not yet.”
Chapter 3
Shea opened her eyes, wondering when she’d last slept so soundly. Releasing a long breath, she tried to figure out where the hell she was. Since leaving Vegas, the first moments upon waking were generally spent in panic, orientating herself to her unfamiliar surroundings. She thought she’d kicked that habit after a week of staying in the club. While it wasn’t the bed that was strange, she was struggling to explain the man’s chest she was lying on.
“Good morning.” A deep voice murmured the greeting and she remembered. Travis. Her boss. She’d been busted. Fuck.
She sat up rapidly, embarrassed to be clinging to him. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t, I—”
She had no idea what to say as she realized she was sorry for a multitude of things right now. For falling asleep on top of him, for squatting in his club rent-free, for taking advantage of Emma’s kindness and trust.
He appeared at ease. “How are you feeling?”
She considered the question with surprise. Her head was clearer and she could breathe through her nose. She felt… “Better.”
“Good. You slept a solid twelve hours. You must’ve been exhausted. Plus, you’ve got some color back in your face. I was worried about how pale you were last night.” He patted the mattress by his side. “Even so, I think you should stay in bed a bit longer. You don’t want to push your luck.”
She didn’t move. He hadn’t risen, hadn’t given any indication he intended to. “I should probably leave. You were very kind to let me stay here last night and to take care of me, but I can’t—”
“Do you have somewhere to go?”
She nodded. “I stayed in a motel near McArthur Park my first few nights in L.A. I’ll go back there.”
Travis scowled and sat up. “Are you crazy? McArthur Park is seriously dangerous. You could have been shot in a drive-by there.”
“I stayed inside at night. Locked the door and dragged the dresser in front of it. I should have gone back there after I got the job here, but, as you pointed out, I didn’t think it would be safe walking around there at two a.m. I considered hanging out in that all-night diner where we met and then going back to the motel at daybreak to sleep. That would have been the smart thing to do, but I was just so tired. I’d run out of money the day before I started working here, so I’d already spent a night sort of dozing in the Laundromat instead of sleeping and this bed looked so nice.”
He was silent as she unloaded weeks’ worth of misery in his lap. She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m rambling and making excuses. I hate when people do that and yet, here I am, doing it to you.”
“I don’t mind. It sounds like you’ve been having a rough time.”
She shook her head. “I wasn’t saying any of that for pity. I figure I’m doing pretty well.” She paused when he raised his eyebrow as if to say, Really?
She laughed lightly. “Except for that whole homeless thing.”
He smiled and she was taken aback by how it seemed to fill his whole face. Something told her he didn’t smile often, but she wasn’t sure why she thought that. Perhaps it was because of Emma’s comments about him.
She glanced at the mirror above the stage. Emma had told her a couple days ago that it was a two-way window. He didn’t need to leave his office to watch the shows. She was intensely curious about Travis Knight and if she was being honest with herself, totally turned-on by him. He’d been a gentleman, remaining close to keep an eye on her while sleeping in his clothes above the covers. She wondered what he would look like without his shirt. He filled it nicely and she could see he was more than built.
Her gaze drifted lower. Wonder if he wakes up with a hard-on? She chastised herself for the thought and flushed. Her gaze flew back to his face—now covered with a knowing look.
She started to rise. She was making an ass of herself, but there was something about Travis’ brooding dark-brown eyes that made her want to wrap her arms around him and hold him forever. She wasn’t sure what it was, but something told her he’d been there, been where she currently was. Lost in a world of uncertainty, fear, helplessness.
He grasped her hand but didn’t pull. His gentle touch stopped her.
“Don’t leave. I’m not certain how I can convince you that it’s okay for you to stay here. You were sick last night. You need to rest.” He held her wrist loosely. “Lie down.”
It wasn’t a command. His tone was too soft, too easy to indicate such, but she still felt compelled to respond. She resumed her place on the bed, surprised when Travis didn’t release her. Instead, he reclined on his side and laced his fingers with hers. With his free hand, he brushed a stray hair away from her face.
Her heart began to race and for one foolish moment, she wished he would kiss her. Wipe away some of the loneliness residing inside her and make her forget the world for a little while. He didn’t. I
nstead he looked into her eyes and she was reminded of the staring contests she’d played with her friends as a child. They simply gazed at each other.
Finally, she broke the silence. “Mr. Knight, I—”
“Travis.”
She shook her head. “You’re my boss and I—”
“My name is Travis. That’s what you’re going to call me.”
He moved incredibly slowly, until he hovered over her on hands and knees. Capturing her other hand, he raised them both until they rested on the pillow next to her head. She wondered why she wasn’t panicking, wasn’t struggling to be released.
She’d noticed his commanding nature last night at the diner. When he issued an order, it was clear he expected compliance. Unfortunately for him, her main character flaw was her inability to do as other expected.
“Mr. Knight. As I said, I—”
“Call me Travis. Now.”
She pursed her lips. She didn’t intend for this to become a battle of wills. He had her at a serious disadvantage. For one thing, he’d caught her—dead to rights—sleeping in his club. And secondly, he had her pinned to the bed.
The silence began to grow uncomfortable but Shea held to it.
Travis’ eyes narrowed. At first she thought he was annoyed, but she soon realized it was confusion. “Who the hell are you?”
“Shea Landon. I didn’t lie about my name.”
“That’s not what I meant. Shea, I’m going to do something completely out of character and I need you to play along.”
She wasn’t sure how to respond, so she simply nodded.
“I’m going to kiss you, but I need you to leave your hands on the mattress. You can’t touch me. Do you understand?”
She nodded before her mind could fully process his words. Her brain clicked off after the I’m going to kiss you part and she licked her suddenly dry lips.
“Promise you won’t move your hands.”
“I promise,” she whispered.
He slowly relaxed his grip on her. He seemed hesitant to leave her arms unrestrained. She only had a second to consider that thought before he lowered himself to his elbows, his body pressing more firmly to hers. At that point, all ability to think rationally flew out the window. What the hell was she doing?
His hands clasped her face and she was struck by his obvious hesitance. It was as if he wanted to kiss her, but he wasn’t sure why or even how. It struck a chord and made her want to reach out, to embrace him, but she couldn’t. She’d promised.
His thumbs lightly stroked her cheeks, triggering some unexpected arousal. Who knew such a simple touch could incite so much need?
Still he didn’t move. She licked her lips once more. Hungered for his. Why wasn’t he moving, taking…fuck, claiming her? He was commanding, a warrior. It didn’t take a genius to see that.
“I don’t bite,” she whispered.
He didn’t smile. “I do.”
He bent his head and pressed his mouth to hers. Their lips met, merged. It was a sweet kiss, but full of the promise of so much more.
His hands drifted from her face to her hair, his fingers gently stroking. His tongue darted out, brushing her lower lip. She opened her mouth, inviting more. He deepened the kiss, turning her head slightly so they could get even closer.
Her body went into overdrive, heating up. She’d dodged a fever last night, but it didn’t look like she’d accomplish that feat today. She was on fire, Travis fanning the flames with each red-hot kiss. Their tongues met, explored.
It was the most beautiful kiss of her life and she never wanted it to end. Never wanted him to leave her mouth again. Her hips thrust slightly, seeking relief.
Travis moved slightly, pushing her legs apart with his. She was clad only in a t-shirt and thin pajama pants. She recalled him turning his back as she took off her wet clothing last night and the memory made her moan.
He pressed his denim-covered cock against her pussy. Her hands clenched into fists and she struggled to breathe as he slowly writhed, rubbing against her clit. She’d never been so turned-on by such simple touches—his lips against hers, his slow, easy stroking. His erection felt thick, hard, and she wanted to see it, wanted to hold it in the palm of her hand.
Travis’ kisses turned molten, growing harder, his tongue thrusting into her mouth faster, deeper. His cock mimicked the motion, hips moving faster, driving her arousal to a fever pitch. Neither of them had removed a stitch of clothing and yet the moment was charged with undeniable sensuality.
Her fingers itched to touch his shaggy hair. It was dark brown and she realized how much he looked like her image of a California man, with his golden tan and surfer’s build.
She turned her head, gasping for some much-needed air. Travis pulled her back, quickly reclaiming her lips. The thrusting of his hips grew in intensity and speed as she wrapped her legs around his waist, searching for more of the incredible sensations he was provoking.
She felt his motions hitch for a split second when her ankles brushed his lower back. She wanted to rip off her pants and his and do this right.
She pulled away once more. “God, please,” she said breathlessly. She was reaching the boiling point and she wasn’t even sure how she’d gotten here.
He was her boss.
They’d just met.
In the whole scheme of her life, this was a pretty big damn mistake. And God knew she’d made some whoppers.
She couldn’t find the strength to give a shit about any of it. She tightened her legs around his waist and began to push back, rubbing her pussy along the ridge of his erection.
It was his turn to groan.
Reaching up, she grasped his hair, trying to steal more of his smoldering kisses.
Instead, she was met by a rush of cold air as Travis disappeared from the bed.
She sat up quickly, ready to protest his defection. The words died on her lips. Travis stood by the bed, panting, pain etched on his handsome face.
She’d broken her promise. “I’m sorry.”
His features darkened. “I warned you.”
She nodded. She was confused, her body aching with unfulfilled needs. “You’re right. You did.”
“I’m going to my office.”
She wanted to weep, argue, beg, anything to keep him there. Instead, she remained silent. There was something in his face, something in the way he held his body that warned her not to.
Time to cut her losses and run. “I should go.”
“You’re not to leave.”
This time she couldn’t be silent. She opened her mouth to object but Travis cut her off.
“There are security cameras everywhere in here. The monitors are in my office.”
Jesus. She really had been a stupid fool, thinking she was staying here unnoticed. How could she have forgotten the cameras?
“I think it would best if I moved on. I’ve made so many mistakes I’m starting to lose count.”
Travis shook his head. “You’re not going anywhere.”
He looked angry. And terrified. Her earlier opinion of Travis Knight remained. He was a warrior. But he was a wounded one.
He looked desperate to escape to his office and she could tell this conversation was costing him, causing him pain. Even so, he wouldn’t leave without her assurances that she’d remain. She didn’t doubt for a second he would do whatever it took to keep her here, though she couldn’t understand why he would bother.
“You can’t hold me captive.”
He gave her a determined stare. “Watch me.”
* * * *
“You’ve rejected my request, Travis. I’ll simply move on to the next gentleman on the list.” She walked toward the door, pretending to leave.
She reached for the doorknob but his voice halted her. “Next gentleman?”
She turned and nodded. “I have a list of prospective teachers. Because of our long, close acquaintance, I naturally thought of you first, but not to despair. There are many other eligible candidates.”
>
Travis wasn’t a gullible man. It was his wit and intelligence that had made them such good friends. He tried to call her bluff. “Who will you go to next?”
She fought to repress her grin. She’d expected the question and had planned her answer accordingly. “Lord Chattingly.”
Travis slammed his fist on the desk and roared, “Have you taken total leave of your senses? The man is a rake of the first order!”
“All the more reason why he’d be a perfect teacher. Plenty of experience under his belt, so to speak.” She smiled, pleased by her wicked jest.
Travis didn’t share her humor. “I forbid you to make such a preposterous request of him.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You forbid?”
Travis seemed to recognize the error of his ways. He walked around the desk and gestured to a chair by the fireplace. “Please. Sit. Let’s discuss this calmly, rationally.”
She sat down as he claimed the chair facing her.
“Tell me exactly what it is you’re interested in learning.”
Her heart warmed at his request. Regardless of the changes the war had wrought—and she could tell there were many—he was still, at his core, her Travis, her dear, beloved friend.
“I’ve been reading books—”
“Of course you have.”
She ignored his sarcasm and continued. “I found one in particular, penned by a courtesan, and I was fascinated by some of the acts she describes. I want to try some of them.”
“Some?”
She could tell she’d shocked him. She took pride in that accomplishment; very little in life surprised Travis Knight. “Okay. I’d like to try all of them.”
“No. You can’t.”
“Why not?” she asked.
“Because you aren’t married. Because you are a proper lady and to engage in such behavior would be inappropriate, scandalous.”
She rolled her eyes. “As I said before, I have no plans to wed, therefore no reason to save myself for a husband. Secondly, I’ve come to you because I know you will be discreet. If no one discovers our liaison, how can it be considered improper?”
“Shea, what you’re proposing simply isn’t done. Think of your family. Think of your reputation.”
