You Do Something to Me

by Bella Andre

  "You're right. He wanted to send her packing a long time ago." Alec didn't give her time to fully process this information before he asked, "Do you want to see his favorite aircraft?"

  "It's not this one?"

  "God, no. This jet is for the Monas of the world. All flash and no substance. Gordon preferred a big engine over an overblown interior."

  They were heading out of the plane, his hand at her lower back again, when she had to ask, "What about you? Which plane do you prefer?"

  "It's out for the day, but I hope you'll let me do more than just show it to you. I'd like to take you up in it, Cordelia."

  She almost slipped on the stairs, but he caught her around the waist before she could. "That's a seriously bad idea. I'd never forgive myself if I barfed all over your favorite plane."

  He didn't look worried. "You won't."

  "How can you be so sure?"

  "Because it was the only aircraft Gordon always felt fine flying in."

  But she knew it wasn't the plane Gordon had felt so safe with.

  It was Alec.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Alec had learned how to defend himself at a young age, when his family's problems had become fodder for the world's press. The journalists who hadn't been able to get anything out of his grief-stricken father had turned to the kids. But Alec had fiercely protected his siblings, making sure that no one could ever corner them and find out just how terrible things were in the New York Sullivan household. He'd made sure not to let on with his Aunt Mary or Uncle Ethan either, so that no one would separate Alec and his siblings "for their own good."

  From what he'd just seen on the plane today, Cordelia would have been just as fierce a protector. Alec could easily have taken care of the situation with Mona. But he'd enjoyed watching Cordelia get in Mona's face and tell her to back off.

  Fact was, he enjoyed watching Cordelia do anything.

  The only part he regretted, honestly, was that Mona had threatened Cordelia. Because if anyone so much as harmed a hair on her head...

  "What do you send the women you break up with?" They were standing outside Gordon's personal jet now, a Gulfstream G650, as Cordelia clarified her question. "If canceling a date warrants a Tiffany bracelet, what do they get when you dump them?"

  "Whatever they want."

  She frowned. "How do you know what that is?"

  "Because by then they've already picked it out." He knew it sounded cold-blooded, but it was all part of the arrangement, one both parties agreed upon at the start. "The women who go out with me aren't after anything more than a good time and something new for their jewelry box."

  "That can't be true. I'll bet you've left a string of broken hearts from here to the end of the runway."

  "I haven't."

  "Have you looked in the mirror lately?"

  His mouth quirked up into a cocky smile. "Are you saying you like how I look?"

  She didn't further feed his ego. "All I'm saying is, in addition to your good genes, you're actually a really nice guy." She held up a hand to forestall his correcting her on that point. "I'm entitled to my own opinion after spending time with you this past week. Which is why I'm not convinced things with the women you go out with are transactions as heartless as you think." She pinned him with a serious look. "At least, not for them."

  "Some women might make the mistake of thinking I can give them more than just a good time, but I never forget that I can't."

  "Tell me again." Her words were soft but unwavering. "Why can't you?"

  His response came before he could keep it locked inside, just the way it always did with her. "My mother always seemed on the verge of floating away, just disappearing into the ether--and my father was so desperate to keep her grounded--to keep her at all--that he painted her obsessively. In the end, they destroyed each other." He hated talking about his parents, but somehow Cordelia kept getting these flashes of information out of him. Almost as if he'd been waiting all this time for someone he could trust so that he could finally get it off his chest. "Living with them, keeping our lives running around them, surviving them, made me who I am."

  She cocked her head, looking pensive. "I get how powerful parents can be in shaping their kids, but I'm pretty sure no one could make Alec Sullivan do something he didn't want to do."

  How had she done that? Brought the conversation to a place where he couldn't argue with her, even though he didn't want her to be right? One thing was for sure--they were done talking about his parents.

  Gesturing to the plane, he said, "This was Gordon's first purchase for the company. In long-range cruise mode, it can cover seven thousand nautical miles. At full tilt, it will cruise at Mach 0.925. He knew the size and speed of the engine, along with the luxurious interior, would make CEOs drool. He was right. Once we grew big enough, he made this plane his own."

  He waited for her to push him some more on his past, to probe into his father's fame the way everyone else always did--and steeled himself to bat her questions away unanswered. But she simply said, "How did Gordon know so much about planes?"

  "Come inside and I'll tell you."

  A week ago, she wouldn't have put her hand in his so readily to walk up the stairs with him. A week ago, she wouldn't have trusted him, wouldn't have put up her dukes to defend him. A week ago, Gordon had been here, and Alec would forever mourn the loss of his friend.

  And yet, a week ago, Alec's life hadn't been nearly so colorful...or as full of the simple joy of being with someone he liked. Liked a great deal, in fact.

  "Everything about this plane feels powerful, strong." She took a seat in one of the large leather seats. "And yet, comfortable too. All I need is a great book and a blanket to curl up with and I'm set."

  She was one of the few women who he believed really would be happy with just that. She didn't need gifts from Tiffany. Didn't need to drive the fanciest car or eat in the newest restaurant. Even the cynic inside of Alec couldn't deny the truth of who Cordelia was.

  "There's more." He drew her back toward the luxurious bathroom.

  "There's a shower on the plane?" She was clearly stunned. "This is like being in one of those spas I've seen on TV."

  "Wait until you see the bedroom." He deliberately ignored the voice in the back of his head saying that taking her there might not be his smartest move. "If you thought the seats up front were comfortable, you're never going to want to get up off the bed."

  She marveled at the room, which had an inset TV on the wall across from the bed and original artwork on the wall beside it. "How did you manage to make a bedroom on an airplane feel like home?"

  "It was all Gordon. He had a knack for it." Just like she did with her cottage. "You've got to lie down on the bed to fully appreciate it."

  "I'll bet you say that to all the girls," she teased.

  "I like to let the jewelry do the talking," he joked back, then jumped on the bed, lying back with one arm behind his head, patting the empty side. "Don't be shy. There's plenty of room here for two."

  "There's enough room there for an entire football team," she said with a laugh, before diving beside him and making a sound of such pleasure that every one of his inner heat gauges shot into the red. "This bed is heaven." She sprawled out as though she were making a snow angel. "Your customers must want to tell the pilot to keep circling so they never have to leave."

  He wanted to joke again. But he couldn't. Not when he was barely holding himself back from crawling up over her and showing her another side of heaven. The only way he could keep himself in check was to talk about Gordon.

  "He was poor before I met him. Really poor."

  She instantly stopped playing on the bed and rolled to her side to meet his gaze. "I know that shouldn't make me feel better. But it helps to know he wasn't a zillionaire already when he gave me away."

  "I won't presume to know what he was thinking when you were born, but I'm guessing there was a fair chance he didn't want you to have the same kind of childhood he did."
r />   "How bad was it?" Her words were barely above a whisper.

  "He never painted the full picture for me." But Alec wouldn't lie to her about what he did know. "He told me enough to understand that there was abuse. And hunger. Enough of both that he never wanted to feel those things again." Alec wanted to reach for her to make sure she was okay with hearing all of this, but his restraint was already worn too thin from sharing the bed. "He didn't have any other family that I know of. Just parents he wanted nothing to do with."

  "He must have loved your big family."

  "He did. Although he always seemed wistful around my sister and female cousins." Alec hadn't understood it at the time, but now he knew Gordon had been thinking of the daughter he hadn't dared to claim.

  "I know this might sound crazy," Cordelia said after a few moments, "but just being on his plane makes me feel as though I know a little bit about him now. Even more than hearing everyone talk about him at his service did."

  She looked into Alec's eyes, not hiding anything she was feeling. He was constantly amazed that she never hid. Never pretended. Never lied about her feelings, even when she was scared. Especially when she was scared.

  "I now know that he liked luxury," she continued, "but that he didn't want to be in a golden cage. He liked strength and power, but he didn't need to lord it over anyone. He was an efficient man, who focused on what counted, rather than wasting time on what didn't. I think..." She swallowed hard. "I think I might have liked him, Alec." The next breath she took shook through her, hard enough that the bed vibrated beneath them both. "I wish I could have met him."

  Alec put his arms around her then, the dangers of a shared bed be damned. He stroked her hair, then down over her back, wanting desperately to soothe her. He hadn't been lying when he'd told Cordelia he wasn't like this with anyone else. But it was the only way he knew how to be with her.

  "If I could turn back time and make it happen," he said, "if I could give you more than just the knowledge that he wanted your parents to give you everything he couldn't--especially happiness--I would."

  She lifted her head from his chest, and he saw that her eyes were wet. "You really would, wouldn't you?"

  He'd have answered her with words if he could. But all he could give her was a kiss. The kind of kiss he'd never given anyone but her. A kiss full of desire. Of emotion. Longing. And a powerful need to heal her wounds.

  Her mouth met his with just as much passion, emotion, longing. Her lips were soft yet fierce as they kissed. She felt so delicate in his arms, yet at the same time she was the most unbreakable woman he'd ever known. He rolled her beneath him, and she arched into his touch, giving herself over to him so readily. So perfectly.

  No one had ever fit him the way she did. No other woman had ever tasted as sweet. He lifted his head to tell her, to confess that he was in over his head, but she tangled her hands in his hair and pulled his mouth back to hers before he could.

  "Please," she whispered against his lips. "Please don't stop. I need this. I need you."

  He would have to stop soon. Regardless of how much he wanted her. But not yet. Not until he'd given her what she needed. Pleasure to replace pain, at least for a few minutes. He wouldn't take anything for himself, he vowed.

  "I know what you need." He reached for the hem of his T-shirt she was wearing as a dress, stopping to stroke the smooth skin of her bare thighs.

  "Alec." His name from her lips was little more than a hitching gasp.

  She wasn't the only one losing her breath. Alec was too. From nothing more than what teenagers would have done while making out--touching her thigh while kissing her was barely past first base.

  He wanted to tear the shirt off her the same way he'd torn her dress the night before, wanted to rip away anything that came between him and her naked skin, but somewhere in the back of his brain he knew she'd need these clothes to walk out of here in front of his employees and customers.

  Only, it was nearly impossible to keep the fabric intact as he slid his hand higher up her thigh and she trembled against him, holding him closer, kissing him harder with every inch. Up, up, up he went. Closer to heaven with every gentle stroke of his hand over her bare skin.

  Every ounce of his concentration went to holding on to his control. But when he crossed the final inch of skin, when she arched into him, when his fingers slipped beneath the thin cotton of her panties and he found her hot, and slick, and so damned sweet--his control snapped.

  She had become so precious so quickly that he was hell-bent on keeping her safe...even as he couldn't help but lead her at least partway down his dark, desperate path. He'd never forget this moment, never forget the pleasure, the gift, of Cordelia opening herself to him. Giving him something he didn't deserve, but could never in a million years regret taking.

  She buried her face in the crook of his neck, her breath hitching out, panting as she rocked into his hand, taking what might have remained simple strokes of pleasure and making them thrusts of pure bliss as everything in Alec's world came down to this.

  To Cordelia.

  To her scent--of a garden even while in an airplane.

  To her sounds--unfettered, unabashed pleasure as she climbed higher and higher in his arms.

  To the feel of her against him--soft and strong and so damned sexy she made his head spin.

  To her incredible beauty--from the flush on her cheeks to the wild heat in her eyes as every muscle went taut, then broke apart in beautiful release.

  He had to kiss her again, needed to be there with her in every way he could allow himself. Long moments later, she finally stilled with a sigh of what sounded like relief. The very relief he'd wanted to give her. And yet, as she'd tipped over the edge in his arms, clinging to him to ride out the pleasure, he knew he'd betrayed his vow to only give to Cordelia and not to take anything for himself.

  The truth was that her pleasure had been as much for him as it had been for her.

  His body throbbed with unquenched need as he gently stroked her hair while she worked to catch her breath. "Better?"

  She shifted slightly in his arms so that she could look up at him. He should roll away from her, and he would force himself to do it soon, but he couldn't keep from first stealing a few more seconds of her soft and warm body beneath his.

  "So much better," she confirmed. And he could see it in her eyes, that at least for the moment, they'd lost that sheen of hurt. "But why are you stopping?"

  "You know why."

  She was silent for a moment. "What if...what if I told you it doesn't have to be forever?"

  God, he wanted what she was offering. Desire was literally tearing at him. But he wasn't a monster, especially when it came to Cordelia. "I wouldn't believe you."

  "I wouldn't believe me either." And yet, her big eyes remained full not only of lingering pleasure, but also of anticipation of all the ecstasy that awaited them, if only they could agree to move to the next level with each other. "But I still want you, Alec." Her honesty continued to stun him. And please him in equal measure. "I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone. Even now, after you just made me feel so good, I can't stop wanting you."

  He groaned, pulled her close again, and just held her. "Gordon set us up for a hell of a situation, didn't he?"

  "He did." She hugged him tighter. "But I'm glad he did. You're the friend I didn't even know I needed, and now I can't imagine my life without you in it."

  Despite the fire raging inside of him, a fire that could never go any further than this, he told her the truth. "It's the same for me." In the most unlikely of situations, he'd found a friend. A beautiful, honest friend he would never forgive himself for hurting. So even though he had no idea how the hell he was going to stay away from her, he made himself say, "Tomorrow will be the start of a new week. Everything will go back to normal on Monday." It had to. He'd make sure of it. He'd buckle down and do the job of two men at S&W Aviation during the day. And at night, he wouldn't let himself fantasize about stripping aw
ay every last stitch of Cordelia's clothes and making love to her. Again and again and again.

  He felt her take a deep breath, knew she was preparing herself for that fresh start, and forced himself to let her go--even as visions continued to hit him one after the other of all the pleasure yet to be had if he held on to her instead.

  She pulled the T-shirt down over her thighs as she sat up. "Thank you for the tour. And for being there for me. Again." Her cheeks were flushed as she said it, but he was glad she didn't look embarrassed or regretful over what they'd just done. "You're right that everything needs to go back to normal tomorrow. And it will." She lifted her chin, pushed back her shoulders, as if steeling herself to make sure the plan didn't deviate off course. "I should probably head home now to check on my shop before they close up for the day."

  "Sure." He just barely got his body in check by the time he stood. "I'll drop you off."

  And then he'd work like hell to remember that Cordelia was his friend and nothing more...even as the sounds, the scent, the feeling of her pleasure continued to reverberate through him.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Cordelia woke as the first rays of the sun shone over her bed. Even as a little girl, she'd been up with the sun. She loved listening to the first bird calls, loved getting her hands in the soil when it was still damp with dew, loved breathing in the sweet air, loved knowing she had a brand-new day in which to explore and appreciate the beauty all around her.

  Rarely, however, had she needed a fresh morning start more than today. The past week seemed like one big blur to her now. Of emotion. Of pain. Of unexpected pleasure.

  And through it all, woven into nearly every moment, was Alec.

  Despite the morning chill, she went hot all over at the memory of his kisses, of his hands on her, of how masterfully--how wonderfully--he'd taken her into pleasure. Sharper, sweeter pleasure than she'd ever known. She'd barely come down from the high when she'd wanted to beg him to do it again, to love her with more than just his hands, his mouth.