McClellan Billionaires: The Complete Series

by North, Leslie

  Her perfect heat, her irresistible slickness made taking the time he wanted impossible. She was coming undone underneath him, raking her nails down his back as she panted his name, and her wildness made him wild too. From deep inside, a small voice reminded him to take it slow, to be gentle with her delicate condition. Slowing his frantic thrusts, he pushed himself deeper and higher. "You feel so good, baby."

  "God, Connor." She gritted her teeth together and squeezed her eyes shut. A low keening escaped her mouth. "God, I think I'm coming again."

  "I want to watch." In one smooth motion, he rolled over, pulling her to him. They toppled off the cushion to the hard stone floor, but Connor barely noticed. Rosalie was on top of him again, riding him for all he was worth. "Take it," he encouraged as she went wild above him. "Yes, yes, shit, Rosalie, yes!"

  She threw her head back with a yell as his hips rose from the floor. He thrust himself deep inside as they both came undone, letting loose with a string of curses that he wasn’t sure were English. Rosalie fell forward, bracing herself against his chest as she ground out the last of her pleasure before collapsing against his chest.

  "Holy … " she breathed.

  "Sorry, I planned everything else out except the condoms." Her hair tickled the underside of his nose, but he didn't dare move. He wanted to hold her like this forever.

  Rosalie snorted. "It's fine. Not like I can get more pregnant."

  Connor tilted her head to face him. "Shit, Rosalie, was I too rough? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

  She blinked once, then again. Connor felt like she was looking right through him, or beyond, to something visible only to her. "You didn't hurt me. But thank you for checking." She blinked again, her expression slackening. "Oh my god. Connor? The door is wide open. Anyone could have walked right in."

  "Not likely, but I suppose. You feeling shy, baby?" He laughed as she grabbed her blouse, clutching it to her chest and sliding carefully to her feet. "Don't worry. Anyone comes in here, I'll tell them we're in a meeting."

  She snapped her blouse at him like a whip. "Always with your mind on business."

  "Right now, my mind is on you." He grinned devilishly. "Though I would like to hear your thoughts on our client activities for tomorrow." When she sputtered, he laughed and pulled her close, promising he’d just been kidding.

  There was no rush.

  He’d hold off talking about the Coney deal until they got dressed.

  9

  "Welcome to the heart of it all!" Rosalie called over the din of the kitchen. Planting her feet hip-width apart, she smiled at the Coneys as they looked around the busy bustle. "Pretty impressive, right?" She gestured around her. "I know, it looks like chaos to an outsider, but Mr. Coney, you're not an outsider. What do you notice about this kitchen that's different from the ones you've seen before?"

  She'd worked the pitch up on the fly, but she was pretty darn proud of it. As Rosalie waited for Ed to take in the professional flow and the military precision of Rue's kitchen, she felt Connor's eyes on her. Her body heated under his gaze, and her mind wanted to indulge in a luxurious rehash of last night. The sweets, the fire, the wildness that had taken over were all at the forefront of her mind.

  Connor had wooed her pretty spectacularly, she had to admit.

  Only this weekend wasn't about the two of them. It was about her future and her position at McClellan. She would prove to Connor that she deserved the regional outreach job. This presentation was her opening argument. Connor had wanted to demonstrate to Ed how much McClellan's software could streamline Ed's businesses, so she'd arranged a kitchen tour of Rue, Aspen's hottest restaurant, with the owners. They had been one of the first clients to adopt Connor’s restaurant management software and Rosalie had been busting her hump ever since to keep them happy and singing McClellan's praises.

  What better place to bring the Coneys?

  She inhaled deeply, ready to launch into the next stage of her pitch, just as they all jumped at the sizzle of hot oil. Rosalie recovered quickly and smiled. "I'm sure you've noticed that there's barely any shouting back here. Unlike regular kitchens, where chefs and line cooks have to bellow to be heard, the kitchens here at Rue are run on a fully intuitive system that takes all the chaos out of the process."

  Ed was listening closely, but Rosalie couldn't tell if she had Dora's attention or not. The all-important Mrs. Coney had a faraway look on her face. She pressed her fingers to her lips as her eyes widened. What was going on—

  The smell hit her.

  She faltered as nausea rolled through her, retching helplessly at the stench of burning oil. "Oh, wow. Sorry. Anyway, the beauty of the back-end software is really—"

  Another wave of nausea hit her. Mortified, she spun around to hide her gagging.

  Connor moved to her side. "Drink," he soothed, pressing a bottle of the extra-gingery ginger ale into her hand. "I got this."

  Tears burned in her eyes as Connor moved to Dora's side and offered her a ginger ale as well. He was smiling, charming as always, but it didn't matter. The client's wife had almost vomited at her grand presentation. She hadn't considered Dora's condition when planning.

  She hadn't considered her own condition either.

  Her roiling stomach lurched again. "Crackers," Connor ordered. "Let's take this into the conference room, shall we?"

  Rosalie mutely nodded. She let Connor lead her to the conference room she'd set up for the next stage in the demonstration. She'd expected to lead them all. She'd expected that after her live demonstration in the kitchen, the Coneys would be eating out of her hand, ready to sign the paperwork already arranged in the center of the polished table. She'd expected to pop the corks on the champagne and sparkling ciders chilling in ice buckets.

  She'd expected to see Connor's approving nod as she succeeded.

  Instead she miserably allowed him to pull out her chair and sank into it with a grateful sigh. The air in here was clean and antiseptic, and Connor had somehow materialized Saltines out of thin air. Dora grabbed a handful and started chewing away.

  "You saw it in action briefly." Connor winked at Rosalie, whose wan smile failed. "Now it's time for you to give it a whirl." He spun the console around to show Ed. "Click right here to start. I'm going to walk you through it."

  This hadn't been part of her pitch but Connor had stepped in effortlessly. Rosalie knew she should be grateful to him, but she felt too miserable to do anything but hang her head.

  According to the clock, they only sat there for ten more minutes, but it felt like a whole lifetime had passed before Connor and Ed shook hands. "Let me talk with my partners." Ed nodded. "I'll have more information tomorrow, but this looks good, McClellan. Nice work."

  Connor smiled at Rosalie. She tried to summon the energy to straighten and exchange the necessary pleasantries. But when Connor saw her face, he moved to her side. "That sounds great, Ed." He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Tomorrow sounds like the best idea for all of us."

  To Rosalie's surprise, that was it. Connor didn't follow the Coneys to the door. He didn't shake their hands again and again while reminding them of all the salient points of his pitch. He stayed right by her side, his eyes fixed on her face until the Coneys had left the conference room.

  "Baby," he murmured.

  Rosalie didn't want to cry. She wanted to impress him, not crumple into a weak, helpless ball. Only Connor calling her a pet name with such exquisite tenderness was more than she could handle. Tears stung her eyes as she buried her face in her hands.

  He hushed her as he lifted her from her seat. "You need to rest, that's all. Come on." He led her from the room. Rosalie kept her face hidden from the curious glances of the kitchen staff and the rest of Rue's patrons, happy to have Connor's strong hand on her back, guiding her with gentle nudges and quiet murmurs until they reached the lobby.

  "I can take my car back," she whispered once they were out in the sunshine.

  "You can, but you're not." She heard him snap his finger
s. He bundled her into the back of the waiting car, holding her close the whole way back to the resort.

  By the time the driver opened their door, Rosalie had regained some of her lost composure. "I should really get back to my room." All she wanted was to stand under a hot shower until the failure had steamed from her skin. "Thanks but—"

  "Thanks but nothing." Connor slid his arm around her waist and pulled her close, guiding her head with his hand to rest on his broad shoulder. "You're coming with me."

  His gentleness struck her. "You're not upset?" she murmured against his soft cashmere shirt. She was ruining it with her tears but he didn't seem to care.

  "Upset about what?"

  "I flubbed the pitch," she admitted.

  "Clearly that's not true. Ed's coming back for more tomorrow. You did beautifully, Rosalie." He tilted his head toward hers. "And I think we need to celebrate that."

  He led her to his room. Still too miserable to appreciate the perfect juxtaposition of rustic wood and luxe furnishings, Rosalie collapsed into one of the buttery soft leather chairs. She ran her fingers over the studded arm as she closed her eyes. She heard the door to the bathroom click closed and the whoosh of the tap. After the door clicked open again, she heard Connor's footfalls as he crossed to the kitchenette.

  When she opened her eyes, he was standing in front of her. He'd changed out of his suit and poured drinks into two cut crystal tumblers. He smiled when their eyes met and walked over to the bank of glass doors, sliding one open. "Come out here."

  "Why?"

  "It's too nice of a night to sit inside. Let's look at the stars."

  Shyness flooded Rosalie. "Just sit?"

  "With me. You're sitting with me. And I'm sitting with you."

  "Since when do you just sit?"

  "Since I found someone I really like to be with."

  Her mouth dropped open.

  He laughed. "You still don't believe me when I say this is real for me. There is no one I'd rather be with than you, Rosalie."

  The intensity of his words were too much for her to take in. Tossing her head, she hoped he wouldn't see how much he'd affected her and stepped through the door.

  Stars blanketed the night sky, but below, the lodge was still aglow in a cozy warmth. People milled in the courtyard, and the light music of clinking glasses and muffled laughter wafted up to her ears.

  "You have a balcony. I'm jealous."

  "You could have a balcony too, you know. Not sure why you have a separate room." He set a glass of ginger-ale on the arm of her chair and perched next to her. The corner of his mouth quirked up. "Must have been a clerical error. I really need to fire Jenny."

  "You won't though." Her heart felt full as she searched his face. He was shockingly handsome in his rumpled white T-shirt and soft cardigan. He looked more like himself now.

  He watched her with the same intensity. "How did you get more beautiful in the past five minutes? It's not right."

  "I look like hell."

  "You look like a dream come true." He slid from his seat to his knees, gathering her slim hand in his.

  A thrill shivered through Rosalie's body, from the roots of her hair down to her curling toes, the same as whenever Connor touched her. Only something besides desire had her reaching for him. She sought not only the electric spark of his kisses, but also the comfort of his whispers.

  Rosalie closed her eyes against the surge in emotion. "Connor." His name came out on a sigh of relief.

  Connor gathered her into his arms and carried her to the bed, kissing her lips, her jaw, her ear. She moaned softly, gasping as he lowered her to the bed and moved over her. His dark eyes searched her face. "Baby?"

  "I don't have the energy for my favorite position," she sighed.

  "You want to let me do all the work?" Connor's eyebrow rose expectantly.

  She bit her lip and nodded.

  Connor laughed. "Thank god," he teased. "It's about time."

  He lifted her hips, gently peeling off her skirt. She watched his expression change from one of amusement to one of awe as he slid his palm up the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. "You're wet already," he rasped. "Rosalie … fuck …."

  He was at a loss for words. Again. Rosalie loved that she did that to him. "And you're"—she gripped his hardened length in her fist—"all ready."

  "For you? This is pretty much how I always am." He lifted her leg and kissed her calf before resting it on his shoulder. "I need you. All the time."

  "I'm here," she gasped as he positioned himself at her entrance and slid inside. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down until his forehead rested on hers. "I'm right here."

  10

  Rosalie's words echoed in Connor's head the next day. "I'm here," she'd told him.

  Only right now? She wasn't. She'd been called back to the office to deal with an emergency client call late this morning. Connor had assured her that he was fine to handle everything today.

  Technically, that was true. He was fine.

  But damn he hadn't expected how much he'd miss her once she'd gone.

  Everything felt off-kilter without Rosalie at his side, like he was a stool wobbling with only two legs. Especially now, as he sat across the dinner table from Ed and Dora Coney and was forced to watch Dora feed Ed little bites of caviar.

  "Open wide, little birdie," she laughed, holding her spoon out in invitation. When Ed leaned in, she flicked it up to dollop the food on the end of his nose. "Oops! Clumsy me!"

  Connor tried his hardest to be invisible. He slipped his phone from his pocket and hovered his thumb over Rosalie's contact info. Miss you, he typed, only to delete his words. This was ridiculous. You’ve been separated from her for far longer before.

  Why would this time be any different?

  He cleared his throat as Ed made a big show of wiping the caviar off his nose. "I hope this place is suitable, Dora. I asked for the open-air seating especially." He gestured to the stand-up heaters positioned around them to keep away the chill. "Figured there would be less smells this way?"

  "Oh, yes, and thank you." She wrinkled her nose. "I can almost stand to be around caviar this way." She looked at Ed and bit her lip suggestively. "Maybe I should have been more careful about getting it on your face."

  "I'll do my best to keep my face away from your nose," the older man growled back. "Say, about this far away?" He gestured towards her crotch and she swatted him with a laugh.

  Connor wanted Rosalie back. Now. Not only would she find a way to swing the conversation away from the Coneys habits in the bedroom, but she would also do it so that no one noticed.

  He, on the other hand, couldn't be more obvious in his attempts. "So, Ed. My tech team says your partners haven’t been in touch yet?"

  "We're still hashing out the details." Ed glanced at Dora, who looked down and toyed with her spoon.

  "Is there anything else you need to know? Something that might make the details clearer?" Connor hated the wheedling note in his voice. How did Rosalie sound so natural? "Because I know yesterday, you seemed impressed—"

  "It was fine," Dora remarked. She signaled the waiter. "More of the Beluga please?" She pointed to Ed’s empty caviar dish.

  He was losing Dora. Inwardly he seethed at Ed for bringing her along in the first place. If she had nothing to do with Ventura, why did he insist on getting her input? "You know"—Connor leaned in as if imparting a secret—"I know for a fact that this restaurant just started running the system you're interested in. If you'd like to head back to the kitchen, I can show you how a smaller operation runs it."

  He widened his eyes innocently as Dora looked at him sidelong. "To the kitchen?" She looked a little green at the suggestion.

  Standing up, Connor gestured to Ed. "Maybe just you and me then? If you want to stay out here, Dora, and avoid the smells?"

  She narrowed her eyes at him. If she saw he was trying to separate Ed from her influence, she didn't say.

  But Ed did. "Fine, McClel
lan. Do your thing. But let's not take too long, okay? I don't want to leave my bride alone for too long."

  "Oh, of course," Connor smoothed, though he wished to do exactly that. Ed and Dora had been treating this entire weekend as a couples' getaway instead of a business deal. Connor had tried following Rosalie's lead in allowing the couple to enjoy themselves, but Rosalie wasn't here now.

  It was time to get down to business.

  "The great thing about this system is that it's scalable," Connor announced as he and Ed entered the small but bustling kitchen. He nodded to the manager who lifted a hand in welcome. "And so groups like Ventura, who own a whole stable of small to mid-sized properties—"

  "They're not that small," Ed protested.

  "Well yes, of course, not small for the market, but in terms of clientele—"

  "We did over a million in receipts last quarter. Didn't you do your research, McClellan?" Ed's eyebrows knitted together.

  Connor backpedaled. "Small in terms of—well, it's just a designation we use internally, it doesn't mean the business is actually small—"

  Ed drew back with a finality that shook Connor to the core. "I told you yesterday. I took it to the partners already. I'm not sure how much more you want me to do."

  Connor licked his lips. "Maybe I was mistaken, but I thought tonight's dinner was going to be when you gave me your answer."

  "These things take a while, McClellan."

  Connor screwed his lips together to keep his retort inside. "Okay, then. Well. Great."

  Ed held out his hand. "So we'll see you tomorrow then?"

  He was putting him off another night? That must mean it was over. He'd screwed up. Somehow, he'd screwed this up, and once again, Ed Coney would be the one who'd gotten away.

  He shook Ed’s hand and tried not to look how he felt—like he’d lost.

  11

  Rosalie still kicked herself for leaving yesterday morning.