by Liz Talley
His words did more than even his magic fingers, his hot mouth on her skin. She wanted that, too.
“Your car?” she panted, lifting her leg to give him room. Her body was a slave to him. She could no more stop herself than a moth could ignore a flame.
And then his mouth was back on hers, nearly frantic. “Yes, somewhere. Hurry.”
Stepping back, he looked down at her, his breathing ragged, something so intense in his eyes. Tess had never seen anything so compelling. He stood in that buttoned-up suit, looking as if he might lose control. In that moment, she was certain nothing could keep him from her—she’d do anything for him. Rob a bank. Run away to Vegas. Have his babies. Whatever he wanted. Because there was nothing between them but an uncontrollable need she had to quench one more time.
Then she’d let him go.
He reached in his pocket for his keys, withdrawing them, looking around for an exit even as his other hand slid over her back and bottom.
Tess felt drugged and knew at that moment what an addict felt. She was hooked on Graham.
And that’s when Tess heard Nick.
“Tess is out here somewhere. I saw her slip out when I went to the bar,” Nick was saying to someone.
“I haven’t seen her in forever,” came the responding trill, which sounded really flirty and really drunk. “But if we don’t find her, we can always find something else to do.”
Nick laughed and then there was a girly squeal.
“Oh, you bad boy. I love it.” She giggled.
The effect was like cold water down her back.
Good Lord. What was she doing? How easily she’d tossed all her convictions for one more time in Graham’s arms.
Who had she become that she’d consider running out on her date? She’d come with Nick, and though he was a jerk, she still owed him some semblance of decency. She couldn’t sneak off with another man, no matter how damn good Graham looked standing slightly rumpled, his silvery blue eyes moving over her with a hot hunger. It was, well, wrong. Even if it looked like Nick would rebound just fine with his new friend.
“Stop, Graham,” she whispered. “I can’t do this. It’s wrong.”
“Are you serious? This isn’t wrong, Tess. Nothing about this is wrong,” he said, drawing her back to him.
She pushed against his chest. “I’m here with Nick. I can’t.”
“He doesn’t sound too worried about it.”
“Maybe not, but I’m not that kind of girl. I’m not sneaking off with you just because I have a hard time resisting you.”
He stopped stroking her, dropping his hands from a body shaking in need.
Stepping back, he gave a beleaguered sigh. “Still fighting it, huh?”
“I have to. I’ll admit I want you. It’s obvious you trip my control switch, but if things are complicated now, what will they be if we do this?”
“The same, but we’ll feel a hell of a lot better. Jesus, Tess, I need you.” The longing in his voice nearly unraveled her last shred of control.
“I—I want you, Graham. That’s not the problem. It’s all the other stuff.”
Eyes narrowed, he said. “Because we’re ‘against’ one another?” He made the quote marks with his fingers...his beautiful, masculine fingers...the ones she wanted on her body doing delicious things.
Tess swallowed the need clawing to get out. “Yes. Exactly.”
“So because we’re both hustling Miles Barrow for a contract and because you’re working for my ex and because I took over the operation of your family business and because you’re here with Nick—” Graham tilted his head, his mouth sardonic even as a twinkle of amusement sparked in his eye “—those little things are keeping you from leaping the locked gate over there and getting it on in the parking lot with me?”
And in that moment, Tess’s heart gave a lurch in her chest. He’d unlocked an escape hatch with a large dose of absurd humor. Tess covered her mouth to keep from almost hysterical laughter, but she sent him a thank-you with her eye. “And I’m wearing a dress and heels. Hard to scale a gate in this getup.”
He held up his hands. “Hey, you can’t blame me for trying. I’ve never been a saint, and you are pretty much the perfect girl for me...outside all of those other things.”
Before she could stop herself, she snorted.
“No, it’s true. You’re highly uncomplicated and without any baggage. How can I resist?” More teasing, more lightness, more squeezing of her heart. He was being more than decent. He was living up to being her prince...even when she wanted him to be the pirate. To scoop her up, toss her over his shoulder and then have his wicked way with her despite her protests.
“If that’s what you’re looking for, then yeah, I’m your girl,” she said, still wanting to kick off her heels and scale the iron gate, but glad Graham had not pressed the issue. It was not the right time or right place.
Might well never be the right time or place.
And that made her heart ache.
She moved toward the rail and Graham trailed behind her, looking casual and not so “I’m about to rip this chick’s clothes off in the middle of a business mixer.”
“Hey, there you are, Tess,” Nick said, spotting her as she emerged from the shadows, the sequins of her dress no doubt catching in the light of the glowing orb hunkered over the gentle lake waves. “Look who I found.”
Riley Ann Richard waved and spread her hands into a big hug. “Tess.”
“Hey, Riley,” Tess said as she was enveloped in a cloud of Vera Wang perfume. Her old teammate squeezed her hard and brushed her cheek with a kiss.
“I haven’t seen you since we graduated. Isn’t that crazy?” Riley said, stepping back into her towering platform shoes. The dress Riley wore was a bit too small but had gorgeous lace detail across the bodice. Her friend had blond curly hair piled on her head, bright blue eyes and a salon tan. She looked stunning as always which made Tess want to kick her.
“It is. How are you?” Tess asked.
“Good. I’m a buyer for Saks now. I’m in for Leo’s wedding. Mom and Dad are over the moon to have me here for two weeks.” Riley eyed Graham, who stood just over Tess’s shoulder.
Tess moved back and made introductions...which seemed to make Riley’s night. Her eyes ate Graham up and she cooed, flirted and basically did everything short of handing him a room key. Jealousy, like a cur catching scent of meat, raised its head inside Tess. She’d never felt that before, and she didn’t like it. Had no reason to own that emotion when it came to Graham. If he wanted to take Riley up on her offer, it was none of her business.
Of course, Tess might have to rip her friend’s throat out if he did. Dear Lord, she not only was jealous, she was feral.
“It’s been nice meeting you, Riley,” Graham said, smiling congenially, “but I need to talk to Miles before I slip out.”
“Oh, I’ll walk with you. I haven’t seen him in forever,” Riley said, shooting Tess and Nick a smile and linking her arm with Graham’s. “Who knew I’d find such a handsome escort when I showed up tonight. I didn’t even want to come but Daddy begged me.”
Riley gave a little ta-ta wave and dragged Graham off.
Graham glanced back and in the depths of his eyes she saw resignation. He was stuck. And she wasn’t going to rescue him the way she had that night at Two-Legged Pete’s. Nick gave a heavy sigh as he saw his only chance for a random hookup striding away on Graham’s arm.
“That dude is ballin’ with the chicks, huh?” he said, his expression hangdog.
“Really?” Tess said, shooting him an incredulous look. “An hour ago you were telling me you’ve changed. Don’t think I didn’t see you putting the moves on Riley.”
Nick blinked. “I was not.”
“Oh, don’t give me that, Nick. I know you. That la
st statement was you bemoaning the fact you’re not getting underneath Riley’s too tight dress.”
“Well, I’m not getting underneath yours, that’s for sure.”
Tess snapped her fingers. “You got that right, buster.”
And then she stalked away, heading for the exit. Monique could kiss her ass. She cared about her job, but she had to get out of the May Madcap Mixer. Like, pronto. Like, yesterday. Like, at that second.
Before she punched Nick, ripped Riley away from Graham and had a nervous breakdown in the middle of a primo Mardi Gras krewes shindig.
Tess Ullo was finally cracking up.
And there was nothing funny about it.
* * *
GRAHAM PRIED TESS’S friend’s hands off his ass for the second time that evening. Seemed the woman was a veritable octopus.
“I’m feeling a little drunk,” Riley trilled, grinning at him as they danced on the small dance floor set in front of a New Orleans funk band. “And you know what that means....”
“You’re going to bed early?” he cracked.
“Oh, yeah. With you.” She wiggled her eyebrows and grabbed his hands, moving them down to her ass.
Graham had to admit that any other time in his life, Riley would have gotten that early night. She was extremely pretty and obviously very available. But this wasn’t the old Graham.
Coming to New Orleans had been about starting over, and he wasn’t going back to the man who’d walked on the edge, wondering if any day he might drop down into the same pit his own father fell into. No. Conviction had grown inside him—the conviction to be a respectable businessman, an available father and a good person. No letting his goal slip through his fingers, which meant no more sleeping around with pretty, half-drunk girls.
Except when it came to a stubborn dishwater blonde with a perfect mouth, spectacular breasts and a laugh that made angels jealous. That’s how you started, dude. Picking up a half-drunk girl in a bar...and falling in love with her.
Tess was the one.
Even though a gulf stretched between them, he knew deep down inside in places he pretended didn’t exist that he’d fallen for Tess.
“Riley, you’re a beautiful woman, but I’m not available in that way,” he said as she slightly ground her pelvis into his.
A furrow gathered between her pretty eyes. She studied him for a moment before raising her eyebrows. “Ohhhh. Yeah, that’s unfortunate. Uh, for me.”
What did that mean?
“The good ones are always gay,” she muttered, jerking his hand back up to her waist.
Graham almost laughed but controlled himself. “Yeah, we are. Sorry about that.”
“That’s okay. You can salvage this evening by telling me what you think about Armani’s new collection. I’m a buyer for Saks and all my other gay friends are so conflicted about the new cut on the jacket. What do you think?”
“You think all gay men know fashion?” Graham asked.
“Most the ones I hang with do, but then again, I’m in the fashion industry. So give it to me from a layman’s point of view,” she said, looping an arm around his neck and studying him intently. “What do you think about Armani’s newest line? Or Tom Ford’s?”
Graham opened his mouth but couldn’t figure out how to get out of this one. “Riley, I have no clue.”
She studied him, this time a little longer. “You’re not really gay, are you?”
“No.”
“So you’re unavailable because you’re with someone?”
“Sort of.”
She sank against him. “Well, then, do me a favor. For the next few minutes pretend like she’s watching and show her what she’s missing not dancing with you.”
But she wasn’t watching. Graham had seen Tess leave, looking as if a pack of wildebeest chased her. And he knew some of it had to do with Riley, some of it had to do with Nick but most of it had to do with what had passed between the two of them—the passion neither of them could control.
Thing was, Graham no longer wanted to control it.
He just couldn’t figure out how to get from Point A to Point B. Usually that was his greatest talent. That was his freaking job. But this whole situation he and Tess had blundered into was like tiptoeing through a minefield. One wrong step and...
“Just hold me a little closer, please,” Riley said, her eyes not so much drunk as...sad?
“Sure,” he said, gathering her up tight against him.
“Thank you.” She sighed against his lapel. “I recently split with my boyfriend of two years. It’s been pretty hellacious. I shouldn’t have drank so much and propositioned you that way. Thought it might help stop the freaking bleeding inside, you know?”
“It’s fine, Riley,” he murmured against her hair. And then he did what she suggested. He danced with the broken-hearted Riley like he meant it, holding her tight, treating her like she was the center of his world, sliding his hands against her back, even giving her a little twirl.
When the music died, he gently brushed a kiss against her cheek. “Be happy, Riley.”
She looked up and smiled, still a little shaky on her feet. “Yeah, I wish I could. Things would be a whole lot easier if he wasn’t already married.”
“Sometimes the things that stand between two people in love are insurmountable. And sometimes we can knock down those walls...or bridge those waters.”
“Yeah, but not in my case. His wife is pregnant.” Riley lifted herself on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Good luck with Tess, Graham.”
He stood alone on the dance floor as Riley faded into the other dancers.
The woman had known him for all of half an hour and had known he was in love with Tess. That’s how obvious his feelings were. But what could he do about it? How could he break down the enormous wall between them?
It would already have been there if he’d come back and she wasn’t an Ullo. He’d have had to grovel, admit to her his weakness, his greatest fear of being a failure like his father. But add in the fact he’d taken the job she’d expected to get, her father’s terminal illness, and the fact they were rivals scrabbling for the same accounts and that wall felt never ending. His own personal Great Wall of China.
But walls could be torn down. And he would have to figure out a way to reach the woman he wanted on the other side.
Like a knight of old, he needed a plan to breach the castle. If he wanted Tess Ullo, he’d have to do more than mope and complain.
He had to be a man of action.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SUNDAY DAWNED HOT for early May. Tess had struggled from bed, forced herself to go for a run, showered and journeyed to her parents early as requested by her mother.
She had thought about faking a migraine because the idea of bed and a never-ending series of Lifetime movies seemed to suit how she felt today. But duty called and she found herself entering her parents’ house via the backdoor.
“Hello there, my Tess,” her mother said, from her position behind the mammoth stove. “You look pretty this morning, hon. I like the way you’re wearing your hair.”
She’d braided it down the side. “Thanks.”
“And you’ve lost a little weight.”
Not sure if that was good or bad. Her mother was always trying to fatten her up with Italian pastries and calorie-laden pastas. “Stress takes it off me. You know that.”
Her mother lifted the spoon from the red sauce, tasted it, tossed in some salt and turned to her. “Time to talk turkey, missy.”
“You wanted me to come early to talk about poultry?” Of course, Tess knew this wasn’t about anything as inane as food. This was about her father. Neither she nor Frank had figured out how to traverse the gulf between them, so Maggie had built the raft. Tess had dreaded this moment as much as
she had craved it. She needed to be moved and her mother was the woman to kick her ass in gear.
“Turkey is fowl,” her mother intoned, tossing the spoon into the sink and untying her apron. “Let’s go out back.”
“It’s hot, Ma.”
“So is the kitchen,” Maggie said, grabbing a sweating glass of lemonade and shoving another one that had obviously been waiting on Tess. “Here. Follow me.”
Tess had no recourse but to do as directed. Her mother wasn’t a woman to be questioned—people just did whatever the diminutive drill sergeant said. Yep, Maggie had missed her calling in life. Tess sighed. “Fine.”
They walked to the flagstone patio sitting near the waterfall her mother had insisted they build to cover the noise of the nearby highway. The oaks gracefully bowed, magnanimously sharing the cover of their leaves, casting pure shadow on the outdoor living room her mother had created. With the tumbling verbena and vibrant canna lilies clustered with the blooming irises, the patio looked like the cover of a gardening magazine.
“Sit down,” her mother said with a gracious wave of her hand, reminding Tess of the spider opening her parlor to the fly. Suddenly Tess felt twitchy. She so should have faked a migraine.
“What’s up? I’m looking for the coals you’re about to rake me over but I don’t see any.” Tess set her glass down, plopped onto an overstuffed chair and crossed her arms. Realizing she probably looked like a sullen teenager, she uncrossed them, hooking one on the back of her chair.
“Oh, honey, you know I don’t have to tell you what is up. You know what’s up,” Maggie said, taking a careful sip of her lemonade before setting it beside Tess’s on the stone coffee table.
Tess sucked in a deep breath and tried one last-ditch effort to prevent the talk they were about to have. “Dad told everyone this is between him and me.”
“Oh, no, honey. It’s not.” Maggie leveled her with the “mom look” she’d used on Tess her whole life. Tess refrained from doing the requisite squirm.
“I can’t—”
“Oh, yes, you can. I understand your disappointment with his decision regarding the company, but he is your father.”
