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SEAN: A Mafia Romance (The Callahans Book 3)

Page 74

by Glenna Sinclair


  “Please stop talking,” he said. After a moment’s consideration, he proposed, “If you and your group leave now and don’t come back, I won’t have you arrested.”

  Rose held her tongue, but ultimately lost the battle with her own determination.

  “I won’t give up. One World has set up camp on public land.”

  “One World? That’s the name of your terrorist organization.”

  “We’re not terrorists. We’re environmentalists, and I've already told your men I didn’t order them to throw that dynamite. I tried to stop them.”

  “You’re going to make me arrest you?” he challenged.

  She pressed her mouth into a hard line, struggling with her stubbornness. “I won’t give up.”

  “Rose,” he said in a tone that was unusually gentle. “I don’t want to arrest you.”

  “Good. I’m willing to negotiate.”

  “Stop,” he said impatiently. “You aren’t in a position to negotiate. This project has nothing to do with you.”

  “If you don’t stop the construction of this pipeline, I’ll go to the press.”

  “With what?” he asked, astounded. “With your confession that you tried to blow up my site?”

  “Ugh, for the last time, that wasn’t my idea!”

  “Look,” he said firmly. “The deal is you leave and never come back and I don’t have you and your group arrested. Now do we have a deal?”

  It was impossible to stare him down while looking up at him, but she did her best, asserting, “No.”

  “You’re being unreasonable.”

  “The deal is you stop the build and I won’t make your life a living hell.”

  He burst out laughing, but it came with an edge of exasperation.

  She suddenly remembered she’d read about him. It had been a footnote, at best, in an article about Porter Montgomery and the oil spill, but the details were coming back to her.

  “Taylor,” she said, and his eyes brightened. “Taylor Montgomery. I read about you. You went to medical school. You had a promising career as a surgeon, one of the youngest in Washington State.” Suddenly confused that he could be at the helm of the pipeline project, she asked, “What happened to you?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Why would you give up saving lives in favor of destroying them?”

  “That’s not what I did, and your phrasing is over the top.”

  “You got sucked into the family business, is that it? The money was too good to turn down?”

  Taylor advanced on her, listing out the merits of his father’s company. “Starlight donated half a million dollars to stem cell research, a quarter of a million to breast cancer research. Every time Planned Parenthood is about to tank, I write another check. Don’t you dare undervalue what my family does.”

  She cocked her head at that. “Those donations occurred in the last year. That wasn’t your father. That was you.”

  “And you’re welcome. Now, please shut up. I have to think.”

  The cell phone in her back pocket began vibrating, so she pulled it out.

  “You’re getting a call.”

  Rising out of her chair to hand him his cell, Rose met him halfway. When their hands brushed in the pass-off, Taylor lingered, looking down at her and tilting his head in a way that reminded her of their mind-blowing night.

  In barely a whisper, he said, “Thanks,” and then swiped the screen, stepping back and answering the call. “Yeah?” Rose couldn’t hear whoever was on the other end, but she gleaned it was a man. “No, no need to come by. Everything’s great here. We’re on track.” He paused, listening. “I may need to PO for more materials, but I’ll keep you abreast.” He listened, and the voice coming through sounded commanding. “No, Dad, I said it’s under control. You have to let me handle this. I don’t need you breathing down my neck the very first day.”

  As Taylor slipped his cell into his slacks, he looked nervous, and Rose couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for him.

  “Does he know what happened?”

  “No,” he said quickly. “And it’s going to stay that way.”

  Questioningly, she asked, “Is this your project or his?”

  Taylor held her gaze, but didn’t respond until a long moment passed.

  “If it were anyone else but you this would be easy.”

  She tried not to smile as she said, “It can still be easy.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “If you’d only hear me out,” she protested.

  “I think it’s you who needs to hear me out.” He groaned. “Christ, why do I want you even now?”

  She shook her head as if to say she didn’t know.

  He stepped in close and said, “I don’t suppose you’d leave willingly and let me fuck you tonight.”

  Coyly, she whispered, “There’s absolutely no way. But we might be able to find some middle ground.”

  He quirked a brow at that, listening.

  “What if you pause the project and hear me out? Then based on my proposal, you can make an informed decision.”

  “You move your team out. I pause the project. I’ll hear you out, and then you hear me out. And then I’ll make the decision. Will you promise to live with it, whatever I decide?”

  She pressed her mouth into a torn line. “I can’t promise anything.”

  “I didn’t hear the part where sleeping together would fit into this equation,” he pointed out.

  Thinking fast, she revised the deal. “You pause your project for the rest of the day. I’ll get my team out. We’ll meet at your hotel and talk and...relax each other if the conversation gets tense. And we’ll come to terms, both agreeing on what will become of the pipeline.”

  Taylor was grinning, but his eyes were skeptical. “That’s ambitious. You think we can come to terms in a night?”

  “If we set our minds to it. I’ll meet you at your hotel in a few hours.”

  “No,” he countered. “Where are you staying?”

  “In a crappy motel. I doubt you’d be comfortable.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “I’m at the Travel Lodge on the north side of Bellevue. Room 101. Can I have my cell back?”

  He smiled and glanced down the length of her with hungry eyes, then pulled her cell phone from the breast pocket of his suit and handed it to her.

  “No one can find out about this,” he said, placing his hand at the small of her back and pulling her in. Then he leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. “I can’t wait to be inside you. You make the best noises.”

  Melting, Rose lifted her face, expecting his lips to meet hers, but he stepped back.

  “Two hours,” he stated.

  “I’ll be ready.”

  Chapter Four

  Convincing One World that she would be in a position to negotiate privately with Taylor Montgomery if only they packed up and left the site felt strangely like a lie. In the past, Rose had always fully disclosed her negotiations with her team and never backed down from a fight. The fact that she was ordering her group to retreat without explaining the full picture made her feel conflicted, but she had no choice. If the executives found out that Taylor was slipping into the throws of an affair, he’d surely cut it off and kill her chances of shutting down the pipeline. And if Rose’s team found out her negotiations would include canoodling the handsome billionaire, she’d lose all respect.

  As conflicted as she felt about telling half-truths and dodging prying questions, she pressed on, and within an hour, One World had completely vacated their site twenty yards off from the Starlight trench and were holding steady in their motel rooms at the Travel Lodge on the north side of Bellevue.

  The conflict inside her didn’t wane as she showered and got ready for Taylor. On the one hand, she was growing increasingly nervous about him coming here. What if Carter or Layla or any of the others spied him pulling up? A limo would stick out like a sore thumb in this part of town. On the other hand, she felt i
ncreasingly thrilled to be alone with him. She’d replayed their evening together in her head countless times while drifting asleep last night, as well as this morning. She’d thought about who he was, what he did for a living, where he really lived. She had been absolutely blown away when he stepped into the trailer that morning. What did it mean? It couldn’t amount to mere coincidence. It felt bigger than that.

  As she stood over her suitcase, feeling the sting of cool air conditioning on her damp skin, she realized her clothing options were limited. She couldn’t wear the black jeans and sweater she’d met him in. And everything else amounted to her activist gear—simple cotton tees, cargo shorts, sneakers. Taylor gravitated towards suits and ties, and here she was dressing like a refugee.

  She decided on a pair of blue jeans that were tight enough she wouldn’t look ratty, then threw on a black sweater. As soon as she stroked on some mascara and brushed her teeth, her cell vibrated against the porcelain sink.

  “This is Rose.”

  “Someone’s going to knock on your door and give you a bag,” said Taylor. “I hope it’s the right size.”

  “Huh?”

  He hung up right as she heard a knock on her door.

  Cautiously, she opened it to find a young man in a dark suit holding a Versace bag, which he handed to her.

  “There’s a checker cab waiting for you,” he said. “It’ll take you to Mr. Montgomery.”

  “I can’t walk out of here in a dress like this,” she said, peering into the bag.

  “There’s a long Burberry coat in there, as well,” he said with a wry smile. “Mr. Montgomery thinks of everything.”

  “He certainly does,” she said, easing the door closed.

  She set the Versace bag on the bed and lifted a stunning, emerald-green cocktail dress out, then noticed black heels beneath it that were resting on top of the Burberry coat that the assistant had mentioned, as well as a sparkling silver clutch.

  “How the heck would he know my shoe size?” she asked herself, as she wriggled out of her jeans and sweater.

  The dress fit her like a glove, and after a brief struggle, she got the back zipped up and stepped into the heels. The coat was certainly long and concealed the frilly hem on her dress, but glancing down at the black heels on her feet, she still felt apprehensive about padding out to the cab without being seen.

  She moved the contents of her purse into the clutch, then peered out of her motel door, glancing up and down the walk at the neighboring doors.

  The checker cab was idling with its back door open. She had no choice but to make a run for it and hope for the best, so that’s what she did, scurrying with shallow steps, heels clicking across concrete, until she jumped into the back seat and whipped the door closed. Her gaze locked on the row of motel doors, then scanned their windows.

  She breathed a sigh of relief that no one had seen her, as the cab pulled out of the parking lot.

  Not five minutes down the street, the cab pulled into a gas station where a black limousine was idling. Again, Rose glanced around to check that no one from One World had driven down to the gas station. When she saw no one familiar, she stepped out of the cab as the limousine driver opened the rear door.

  “Ms. Cole,” he said with a nod. She smiled when realizing he knew her last name, then eased into the limo.

  Taylor angled his dark eyes on her, as his lip curled.

  “Are you cold?” he asked.

  Rose glanced over her shoulder when the driver shut her door, then said, “No, it’s nice out.”

  “Does the dress fit okay?”

  “Yeah, how did you know my size?”

  “We spent enough time with our clothes off. It gave me a decent sense of your dimensions, but I can’t take credit. One of my assistants made a lucky guess after I relayed your height and weight.”

  “And my shoe size?”

  “If those heels fit, it’s a miracle.” He laughed. “That was a total shot in the dark.”

  Rose straightened her back, untying the sash around her waist and peeling the trench coat off. Then she slid a bit closer to Taylor, asking, “So where are you taking me?”

  The limousine bounced, rolling over a pothole, and Rose fell closer to Taylor, whose hand immediately pressed her stomach, holding her to the seat. When the pavement was smooth again, he rested his hand on her leg.

  “We can’t go back to my hotel since some colleagues are staying there, but I have a little place in Seattle that’s private. I think you’ll like it.”

  Rose glanced out the window at the stark late-morning sun, then returned her gaze to Taylor, whose eyes brightened in the light, turning into their natural slate-blue color.

  “So we have a bit of a drive on our hands,” she pointed out.

  “We do. And everything we need to discuss is much too important to go over in the back of a limousine.”

  “I agree,” she said, feeling the warmth of his hand on her leg. “How will we spend our twenty minutes, I wonder?”

  “I know how I’d like to spend it,” he said softly, leaning in so close that his lips brushed her cheek. “But let me give you the options.” Easing off, he indicated a console across the way. “I can pop a bottle of champagne.”

  “I never drink before dinner.”

  “Smart woman. I have The Weekend’s latest album.”

  “You like The Weekend?”

  He frowned boastfully. “Ever since they performed at my birthday party I’ve been hooked.” He reached for the remote in the door console and turned the music on, but kept it low.

  “That’s nice,” she said, “but hardly constitutes what we could be doing.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” he said. “I have a number of Mad Libs—”

  “Shut up and kiss me.”

  His hands were slow and smooth, one scooping around her lower back, the other sliding across her waist, until he was cradling her. Rose leaned her head back, relaxing into his arms, as he neared and touched lips with her softly in a light kiss.

  “Did you think about me?” he whispered.

  “Did you want me to?” she asked playfully.

  “I’m not sure I knew what I wanted, but I think not getting involved has flown right out the window.”

  “Did you think about me?” she countered, turning the tables.

  “I did.”

  As he brushed his lips across her cheek in a series of gentle kisses, working his way to her mouth, she asked, “What?”

  “I thought about this mouth,” he said, then kissed her softly. “And these lips.” Again he kissed her. “And I thought about your other lips that I didn’t get a chance to kiss.”

  A rush of heat stirred deep inside, and she smiled, exhaling breathily.

  “Did you think about that?” he asked.

  “Mm-hm.”

  “Did you think about me licking you? You on your back on my bed, my hands gripping your waist, sliding down to your ass, squeezing you and holding you steady, while I lick and suck between your legs?”

  “Oh,” she sighed.

  Taylor grazed his fingertips up her inner thigh, tracing a slow pattern until he reached the cloth strip between her legs. Her knees drifted apart in response. As he teased her, gently brushing his fingertips back and forth, he went on.

  “And I thought about feeling you come on my mouth, the subtle clenches of your climax around my tongue, and the sound you might make when I thrust into you after. Did you think about that?”

  If she answered, she couldn’t hear it, and then his mouth was on hers in a deep kiss, as he pulled her panties aside and began gently exploring between her legs.

  “You feel so warm and wet,” he whispered. “God, your breasts in my face as I filled you, as you rocked and thrust me deep inside you, was unbelievably perfect.”

  “I want you, Taylor,” she whispered on a heavy breath.

  Her hands padded down his chest then found his belt in a scramble to free him. With his belt undone, she pulled his fly dow
n and reached in his slacks, feeling him harden in her hand, though a thin layer of cotton separated them.

  “You know why I can’t stop thinking about you?” he asked, then groaned when she firmly grasped his erection.

  “Why?” Rose began kissing his cheek and feeling the scruff of his dark stubble against her lips as she traveled the length of his jawline, breathing in his scent.

  “Because I could feel you giving yourself to me. I sensed you’re the type who needs to be in control, who needs to direct a man on how to touch you—which is hot, don’t get me wrong. But you trusted me, and you let me work your body into coming, and that is so much hotter.”

  “Well, you were good at it, and quite frankly, I didn’t think you’d succeed.”

  Charmed, he laughed quietly in her ear.

  “The second I held you I knew I was gone,” he added.

  “What do you mean?”

  Instead of responding, he guided Rose to straddle him, pulling the hem of her cocktail dress up around her waist.

  “Won’t we be there soon?” she asked.

  “I can’t wait. You have me too turned on.”

  “Oh,” she moaned. Why did she melt every time he said something sexy? It was nuts.

  He helped her pull his boxer-briefs down and his thick erection sprang out. She grasped and stroked it as he rested his head back, gazing up at her.

  “Goddamn, you little rebel,” he groaned. “What’s wrong with me that the fact you’re here to stop my pipeline has me all the more hot for you?”

  She laughed. “There’s nothing wrong with you. But I will stop you.”

  “Oh is that right?”

  “That is right,” she said, pulling her panties aside and angling his erection against her slippery sheath. “We should get a condom on you.”

  “We should,” he whispered, but seemed too in a trance from feeling her wetness against him to make good on the idea. “For the record, I’m clean. I get tested often.”

  Rose was getting swept up in the lusty logic. She knew she was clean, as well, and the thought of feeling him, hot and hard, thrusting into her with nothing in between was intoxicating.

  When she hesitated, he asked, “Are you on the pill?”

 

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