by K. M. Scott
"Yes, there are," I croaked out as he sat there still as a statue, his breathing the only sound I heard.
He released my hair from around his finger and repeated the action, twirling the strand from the bottom up to next to my ear. When he stopped, he gently tugged on it, sending a twinge over my scalp and making me flinch.
"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked, but I had the distinct impression he didn't care if it had hurt.
In truth, it hadn't. The tiny bit of pain he'd caused by pulling my hair was intermingled with the pleasure he was creating in me just by being so close that I almost wished he'd do it again.
"No. Is this how you used to play with my hair?"
He shook his head, sighing heavily near my neck, and his warm breath flowed over my skin. "No," he whispered. "I'd play as you rested your head on my chest while we lay in bed. This bed."
This bed. As in the one I wished he would lay me down on and make love to me on at that very moment.
"Oh." That was all I could muster as a response because if I'd said anymore I'd have sounded like some drunken prom date looking to give it up easier than the town tramp. He was driving me mad with desire, but until he made the move, I planned to do my damnedest to keep it together.
"It's getting late and you have a big day tomorrow."
I sat stunned as he leaned back away from me and smiled. "Take the letters. Maybe they'll help you remember something."
"Yeah. Maybe. Thanks," I muttered as I stood on shaky legs to go back to my room. After all that, he didn't even try to make love to me. I couldn't tell if I was exhausted because of the emotions I'd experienced that day or because of the rollercoaster he'd taken my body on just waiting for him to make a move.
I opened the door and behind me from his place on the bed he said, "Nina, I'm glad you came over."
Turning around, I saw he was rock hard. His cock was nearly peaking out of his pants. Why was he playing with me like this?
"Yeah, it was nice. Thanks." I pressed a smile onto my lips and hoped he didn't see how frustrated he'd made me. "Have a good night, Tristan."
I slid my gaze over his body one last time and made my way back to my room. As I climbed into bed, I couldn't say for sure, but I didn't think I'd ever been so turned on merely by talking in my life.
If this was what life with Tristan Stone was like, it was no wonder I'd fallen in love with him before. I was halfway there already.
Chapter Four
Nina
At nine sharp, I stood in Tristan's office on his side of the house ready to get to work, even if I wasn't entirely sure I could do the job. Being a curator was far more than I ever remembered doing, but if what everyone was telling me was the truth, I'd done this job before and pretty well, so all I had to do was remember that and I'd be fine. I had the education and the experience. That was what I told myself about a hundred times over as I'd made my way to see Tristan.
I wore a green cashmere sweater that felt like heaven against my skin, a black pencil skirt, and a pair of black pumps that made my legs look damn good, if I did say so myself. While I may not have been able to remember anything since college, I was sure I'd never worn anything so luxurious in my life as what I was in as I stood there in front of him.
Tristan sat behind his enormous cherry wood desk looking breathtaking in a dark grey suit, black dress shirt, and a stunning red and black tie. After what had happened the night before, I wasn't sure I could work side-by-side with him, and looking like that only made it more difficult.
Why couldn't he work at home in sweatpants and a T-shirt? Who am I kidding? He'd probably still look stunning.
He looked up from his laptop and smiled. "Good morning, Nina. Come sit next to me."
I approached him on wobbly legs and sat down in a chair he slid next to his. As if it wasn't bad enough that I was unsure about my ability to do the job of curator, now I had to deal with him sitting as close to me as he had the night before.
This was going to be a long day.
"Ready to work?" he asked, his deep brown eyes staring into mine.
"Yes, sir," I joked, hoping to ease my jitters with some workplace humor.
He arched one dark eyebrow. "Sir? You don't have to be so formal, Nina. Remember, we're more than just employer and employee."
His deep voice spoke the words that should have put me at ease, but there was a sensual undertone to it that made me need to squeeze my thighs together to ease a desperate, sweet ache that had formed between them the moment I saw him sitting behind that desk.
"Okay. I was just trying to calm my jitters. I'm a little nervous about this," I confessed.
Smiling, he shook his head. "There's no need to be nervous. You're a natural at this. Trust me."
Trust me. He'd said that day after day since I'd met him in the hospital, and I still wasn't sure I could. In truth, it wasn't a could thing. It was an I-was-afraid-to thing. I'd never had much success with men, as far as I remembered, and the memory of what others had done to me was always uppermost in my mind when my heart felt even the tiniest tug in Tristan's direction.
He turned his laptop toward me and began clicking on pictures. "I thought I'd show you the work you'd done already so you could see just how great you've been at this." There was a moment of silence as I focused on the pictures and then he said something in that silky, deep voice that made that ache between my legs rush back with a vengeance.
"Relax. I promise you're great at this."
If only I could focus on the artwork on the screen instead of how close he was sitting next to me.
I took a deep breath and nodded as I examined my previous work, pretending that I wasn't already excited at shortly after nine in the morning. "Okay. These look pretty good, if I do say so myself."
Leaning in next to me, he pointed at a picture full of the color gold. "This one is especially good. I love those owls. Those were a great choice, Nina."
Love. He seemed so comfortable using that word when it came to anything involving me. It was unnerving. Nobody I'd ever dated before had been so free with that word. If anything, the L word was something I was uncomfortable saying, at best.
"Thanks." As I looked at the picture, I couldn't imagine how any art with a few blue and white owls I'd chosen had improved that room so overdone in gold. "That's a lot of gold, isn't it?"
"You should have seen it before the owls," he said with a smile, leaning in closer to my left shoulder. "It's more impressive in person. Maybe we should return to Dallas so you can see your handiwork."
While he spoke, I got lost in the scent of his cologne. I had no idea which one it was, but it was very possibly the sexiest fragrance I'd ever smelled. Fresh, the scent was woodsy and almost citrusy, making him smell delicious. How was I supposed to work like this? While he talked of hotel rooms, my mind was distracted and wondering the name of the cologne he was wearing. He was driving me crazy!
"That will have to wait until after the holidays. I thought we'd stay home for Christmas."
Christmas. The mention of the holiday made my brain switch gears. I hadn't thought much of the holidays because of my accident, but he was right. Christmas was just weeks away.
I turned to look at him and nearly touched his cheek with my lips. Startled, I leaned back away from him and muttered, "Do you do anything special for the holidays?"
A look of sadness crossed his face before he turned to smile at me. "No. I haven't really celebrated Christmas for a long time. I usually work."
"You can't work on Christmas! If any day of the year should be a day off, that's it."
That warm smile he offered far too infrequently brightened up his face all the way to his eyes. "Then I guess I'll be taking that day off this year."
Overcome with enthusiasm for the holiday, I began to tell him all about how I'd always celebrated, complete with tinsel, egg nog, and homemade ornaments. "We can trim the tree on Christmas Eve and make cookies."
Suddenly, as I spoke of all the ways I'd cele
brated the holiday with my father, the reality of his death settled into my mind. There wouldn't be any more Christmases with him at home around the fireplace as we opened our presents on Christmas morning. No more holiday dinners with him and my sister and her family. No more surprise stocking stuffers.
"Nina, what's wrong?" Tristan asked as I looked away so he couldn't see the tears in my eyes.
I shook my head as I wiped my cheek. "Nothing. It's just that this will be the first Christmas without my father." Turning to face Tristan, I said in frustration, "Well, not really since he's been gone for four years, but since I can't remember that or anything else that meant so much to me, it all feels like it just happened."
"I know. My first Christmas without my family was hard. I felt like I was all alone, that everyone I'd cared about was gone now. But you're not alone."
I took a deep breath and pushed the sadness away to a place in my head I'd deal with later. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be doing this during work. It's not very professional."
He lifted my chin with his fingertip and looked deep into my eyes. "You don't have to worry. That's one of the great things about working from home. It's more relaxed."
Jesus, just the feel of his touch on my skin made my heart race! At this rate, I wouldn't get to lunch before I jumped his bones. Leaning away from him, I caught my breath and checked out his relaxed home office look.
"If this is more relaxed, why are you in a suit and tie?" I joked, hoping to stall for enough time to get my bearings.
"I always wear a suit and tie to work, no matter where it is," he said in a fake serious tone I could tell was slightly defensive.
"So you've always worn a suit and tie? I'm trying to imagine you as a twenty year old guy hanging out looking like this."
His brow furrowed, and he shook his head. "Nina, I haven't always been this man you see in front of you. This is the person I have to be now. A long time ago, I was like every other guy you've ever met."
I looked at him as he busied himself with clicking to the next set of pictures he wanted me to see. From those gorgeous milk chocolate brown eyes, to his perfectly shaped mouth, and his ripped muscular body, there was no way he was ever like any other guy I'd ever met. Add to that the money, the houses, and the cars and there was no chance. No way.
A half hour later, even I was convinced I was the right woman for the job as Tristan's curator. The pictures from the projects I'd completed in his hotels showed I knew what I was doing. The colors, shapes, and textures I'd chosen worked well with the decor in the suites, and I'd even come around to believe that those adorable blue and white Mexican owls had done something for the Dallas suite.
I'd also settled down and could focus on work, instead of on the way Tristan looked, smelled, and sounded. The man was indeed the most delicious brand of sensory overload.
Tristan leaned back in his chair and ran his hand through his short dark hair. He had a pensive look on his face and sat silently for a long moment before he turned toward me. "I'm thinking we'll go to Atlanta after New Year's. You can get a head start on that job beginning today."
"Oh. Okay. For a minute there, I thought you were going to say you wanted to go to Atlanta for New Year's Eve." I'd never been to Atlanta, so enjoying New Year's there sounded fun.
"No, we'll do New Year's Eve at the penthouse."
"In the city?"
He nodded. "Yes. It's not as cozy as here, but the views are better."
"Do you have any pictures of that, or didn't I do any work there?"
His voice softened as he spoke of his home in Manhattan. "The penthouse is my home, so it's not like other penthouses at the other properties I own, but you did choose a piece for there."
"You sound like you really love it, Tristan. I look forward to seeing it."
Shaking his head, he twisted his expression into something that looked like he'd tasted bad food. "I don't care about the penthouse. In fact, I've never liked it. The only thing I like there is the print you picked out to cover the bare spot in the bedroom."
"I must have hit it out of the park with that one then."
"It's just what that room needed," he said quietly.
"Can we invite Jordan and her boyfriend to join us on New Year's Eve? I'd love to see her, and because of my memory loss, I don't feel like I know Justin at all."
He seemed to think about it for a moment. "If that would make you happy, then we'll do it. We can have them over for drinks and dinner."
Left unsaid was what would happen after drinks and dinner and after they left. I felt like some teenage virgin who was both anticipating and dreading having sex for the first time. Thank God I'd had sex before the point in time where my memory stopped. Even the memory of bad sex was better than going into it blind.
Not that I thought we would wait until New Year's.
"Thank you, Tristan. It's nice of you to include them in our plans."
He smiled at me and shook his head. "There's no need to thank me, Nina. All I want is your happiness."
I didn't know what to say to that. Everything he'd done from the moment I'd met him as I lay there in that hospital bed all broken and bruised showed me that whatever else I may not know, I could truly believe he did want me to be happy. It didn't matter that I couldn't completely understand why either.
To him, I was his Nina, and every moment that passed, I found myself growing more comfortable with that role. And to my surprise, with each moment I spent with him, I also found myself wanting to make him happy. He had that effect on me. Maybe it was because he was my strength in those times when I needed it every day in that hospital, or maybe it was because he seemed so single-mindedly focused on me. Whatever it was, I was quickly falling for him and honestly wasn't sure I shouldn't be sublimely happy about it.
"This is the property in Atlanta. It's one of the few properties of mine that I've never visited, so when we travel there, it'll be my first time too."
Tristan pointed to the pictures of the Atlanta hotel as he explained that he'd visited most of his properties since becoming CEO of Stone Worldwide four years ago. I had a hard time imagining him as anything like a CEO. He didn't act like someone who ran a worldwide business. As I sat there watching him talk about suites and hotel rooms, he seemed more like someone I might meet at a club.
Except for the idea that he was drop dead gorgeous and likely preferred clubs I couldn't afford to get into. I didn't know which one would have been a bigger impediment to our ever meeting.
"Tristan, do you ever go to clubs?" I asked impulsively, curious to know if my mental ramblings had been correct.
He stopped talking about what kind of art he thought the Atlanta suite could use and turned his head to look at me. There was a devilish look in his eyes that made them seem to dance in the light of his office.
"No. Why? Would you like to go out tonight?"
"Could we?" I asked excitedly, thrilled at the idea of not only getting out after weeks of being stuck in the hospital but also seeing him in a different setting.
He nodded and stood from his chair. As he passed by me without a glance, he said, "Of course. If you'll excuse me, I have to arrange a few things and deal with some work issues, but I'll meet you in the dining room at seven for dinner and we'll go out after that."
His leaving was so abrupt I wondered if I'd done something wrong. He hadn't smiled or even touched my hand as he left. His tone had been decidedly all business compared to just minutes earlier, but I guessed he had important work to do, so I set about studying the Atlanta suite in the hopes that I could add something unique to it.
After I'd done a few hours of work, I headed to my closet to search for something to wear that night. That morning when I'd reached for my work clothes, I'd been so nervous I hadn't paid attention to all the gorgeous clothes that hung next to them. I had no idea when I'd purchased the wardrobe I stood staring at, but I was sure it cost a fortune. Designer names, cashmere and silk, and dresses unlike anything I'd ever owned before filled
my eyes.
I pushed each beautiful outfit past me, vetoing some because they were too long and others because they just didn't feel right for the night ahead, until I found a little black dress hidden all the way in the back. I held it up in front of me and measured it against my body. It was perfect. Hanging to about three inches above my knees, it showed enough skin to entice while still allowing me to look classy.
On the floor sat over a dozen pairs of shoes, each one more beautiful than the last. Black pumps, red stilettos, tan patent leather sling backs, but none of them seemed right for that little black dress. Then I spied a pair of gold stilettos on the far right side of the closet, hidden behind other shoes and knew instantly they were the ones.
I wanted this night to be one I'd remember forever. Tristan had repeatedly said we would make new memories, so tonight would be the first of many, or at least I hoped it would. I still wasn't sure how I felt about him, but between the jealousy that had nearly consumed me as I looked at those pictures with him and the women he called actresses and the desire he'd created in me as I sat in his room the night before and in his office that morning, I knew one thing for sure. I wanted to know more about him than the caring boyfriend and the accommodating boss.
I wanted him.
Five o'clock came and I took one last look at myself in the mirror. Smoldering sable eye shadow and the perfect red lipstick gave me the sex symbol look I was aiming for, and my dress and shoes screamed seduction. I just had to hope that Tristan was on the same page and hadn't fallen out of love with me after my coolness toward him.
By the time I reached the dining room, I was a complete nervous wreck. I didn't know how I'd handled the first time with him before, but this Nina felt like she was going to pass out from anxiety as she walked down the hallway from her room. Seduction had never been my strong suit, and an attempt to seduce a man as stunning as Tristan Stone made me feel like I was totally out of my league.
