by Joanne Rock
This, she recognized.
This, she remembered in her body more than her brain.
How else could she account for the sudden, reflexive need? Her hands tunneled into his dark hair, and she craved more. More of the kiss and the man.
He accommodated her instantly, pulling her fully across his lap. Her thighs draped over his, her hip pressed intimately to his arousal. The chilly night air blew lightly on her back, but it didn’t cool the heat their bodies generated where they touched. Damon kissed her with a slow thoroughness that undid her. She dropped her hands to his chest, wanting to feel the thrum of his heartbeat, to see if the rhythm was as unsteady as hers. Or maybe just to reassure herself this was no fevered dream or wishful memory.
Damon McNeill in her arms was the real thing.
She broke the kiss, needing to feel that addictive slide of his mouth on her neck. Behind her ear. Down to the base of her throat. She didn’t know if she steered him there or he simply understood everything she wanted. Arching into him, she let the heat build, not questioning it. Needing it.
He said he wanted to start over, didn’t he?
Was it madness to begin again this way, right here and now?
For the first time in months, she didn’t have to struggle to remember. She could simply be. Feel.
Savor.
She tugged at the buttons on her sweater, needing to feel his kiss on her breasts. He thumbed aside the bra strap as she exposed it, his hands working seamlessly beside hers...
Until the wail of Lucas’s cry filled the night.
The nursery monitor feed blinked to brighter life on her phone, the audio as clear as if they were standing right next to the crib. Caroline lurched forward, off Damon’s lap.
He stood beside her.
“Get your rest, Caroline.” He placed a kiss on her forehead. “I want to go to Lucas.”
She couldn’t argue since she’d already teased him about taking the late feeding. Damon deserved to spend time with Lucas after she’d kept him to herself these last weeks. Logically, she understood that.
But as she watched Damon walk away from her, she got the sense that he hadn’t just left to be with his son. He’d left to get away from her and what was happening between them. Because no matter what he said about new beginnings, she knew he didn’t trust her.
And it was possible he didn’t even love her.
So no matter how blissfully sensual his kisses made her feel, she would be wise to keep her guard up around her husband.
Seven
By late afternoon the next day, Damon sat beside Caroline in the back of a limousine taking them from the airport to his grandfather’s home on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. Lucas snoozed in a car seat across from them while their security guard rode up front with the driver. Malcolm McNeill insisted on sending the Mercedes limo for them, even though he was out of the country on business. When Damon had called his grandfather to let him know they were going to be in New York City, the old man had urged them to stay at his house since it was fully staffed and none of the McNeills were in town for the next three days.
Damon had accepted since he needed to meet with his grandfather as soon as possible to discuss the McNeills taking over Stephan Degraff’s stake in Transparent. He’d closed the house in Los Altos Hills that morning, but asked his Realtor not to put the property on the market yet. His life had changed drastically since Caroline’s return. He now had his wife and his son to consider, making the Silicon Valley condo he’d rented out of the question because it was too small. Plus, there was her long-term safety to consider. As much as he wished they could hole up back on the family property in Martinique, he knew she wouldn’t go for that.
But sooner or later, he wanted his son to meet Jager and Gabe.
Now that his brothers were recognizing their father’s relatives as family—though not their father himself, if Damon had anything to say about it—Damon needed to get used to the idea that he had half brothers. And he’d soon have to introduce Caroline to them. Their son deserved a stronger sense of family than he and Caroline could provide. And he had no intention of allowing Stephan Degraff anywhere near his child.
“I’m anxious to see your grandfather’s home.” She shifted in her seat, straightening her long wool coat to cover her legs as she peered out the window. The car sped up on a curving road through Central Park. “If it’s as big as you say, it’s got to be one of those turn-of-the-century mansions on the Upper East Side.”
He pulled his gaze up from her legs, from the spot where her tall leather boots met the hem of her knee-length skirt. He’d thought about their kiss all night, wondering if it had surprised her as much as him. Not that he was caught off guard by the heat or the passion. He expected as much when they touched. It had always been that way between them. What had stunned him was how engaged she’d been in the kiss. The touches. He’d missed that about her. The woman who’d returned to their doorstep, claiming not to know him, was more circumspect. But something had reawakened her more impulsive side and he wondered how long it would take for him to see that side of her again.
“The McNeill home is impressive.” With an effort, he focused on her words instead of the attraction. Damon wasn’t as much of an architecture aficionado as Gabe, who was bringing his historic hotel back to pristine life in Martinique. But he’d been around enough five-star properties across the world to appreciate something like the McNeill mansion. “It has six floors, not counting the staff rooms and kitchen on the basement level. There’s an entrance to the park across the street.”
“How long did you spend there?” She smoothed her hands along the folded leather gloves on her lap, her wedding rings glinting in the dull winter sunlight.
He’d been glad to see the bands back in place today when she’d awoken from a long rest. Damon had kept his word where Lucas was concerned the night before, walking the baby around the house when he cried and settling him down after the midnight bottle. He’d enjoyed the time to study the boy’s features and get to know him even though the feeding had interrupted one hell of a moment with Caroline. There would be more heated moments. Soon.
“I only stayed there for a few days last month after my grandfather’s private investigator found me over in Europe.” He’d been in a dark place at the time, convinced Caroline had either left him or was being held against her will. “My brother, Jager, had been looking for me. I’d saddled him with the responsibility of overseeing Transparent while I was away and he was beginning to have trouble explaining my absence to investors. I threw out my cell phone though, not wanting to deal with any of it.” A foolish act. “If only I’d kept it, maybe we would have been together sooner.”
The car slowed for another light. A few heavy snowflakes began to fall, lightly brushing the windows on their way to the ground. The city was expecting major winter weather tonight, and he would be glad to get his family settled for the night.
It still floored him to think about having a family of his own.
“At least we’re together now, and Lucas is safe.” Her dark gaze landed on the baby as the little boy stretched and sighed. “Thank you for making sure Victoria got to school safely, too.” She checked her phone and then set it aside. “I told her to text me if she heard from Dad, but she said everything seemed fine at her apartment.”
Damon nodded. “I’m receiving updates from her protective detail, as well. They retrieved a few books and personal items from the building on campus, and moved her temporarily to a spot with more security. Just until the police finish investigating your father’s role in this.”
They could only do so much to hide Victoria if her father wanted to see her, but at least she wouldn’t be easy to find.
“I’m more concerned about protecting her from whoever kidnapped me. My captors threatened to come after my siblings if I didn’t cooperate.” She turned her attention back toward the sleeping in
fant. “I want them safe, and Lucas, too.” She tugged at the green striped quilt she’d laid over the car seat to keep him warm, lifting it higher.
Damon wanted to tell her to prepare herself for the possibility that her father was more involved in her kidnapping than she realized. But perhaps Caroline herself had asked for her father’s help in freeing her from marriage to Damon and simply didn’t remember. Better to keep his misgivings to himself and let the police work on it.
And his private investigators. He’d called Bentley—the PI who’d located Damon when he’d been wandering Europe looking for Caroline—with an update the night before when he’d been pacing the floor with Lucas. Like Damon, Bentley was suspicious of Stephan’s role in Caroline’s disappearance.
Until he had proof, however, Damon’s revenge against Stephan would wait. He’d spend his time assembling all the pieces necessary to ruin him so he would be ready to act when the time came.
For now, Damon would focus on solidifying his relationship with his wife. After last night’s heated kiss, the plan was very, very appealing.
* * *
Two hours later, Caroline wandered through the sixth-floor solarium of the stunning house that belonged to Damon’s grandfather. Snow fell in a dizzying haze on the glass roof, which was illuminated by the ambient light from Central Park on the opposite side of Fifth Avenue. The building faced East 76th Street, but she could see the park from here.
Lucas had already been settled in his own bedroom across from hers on the fifth floor. She was touched to see the steps the household staff had taken on short notice to ready the room for a baby. They kept a crib in storage, apparently, and had set it up for them. It had been in use often as of late, since Cameron McNeill, one of Damon’s half brothers, had recently adopted his wife’s daughter.
Caroline had gotten the full scoop from two fresh-faced staffers who were pursuing advanced degrees in early childhood education—young women recently retained to work part-time whenever Malcolm McNeill hosted the grandchildren he hoped would soon fill his home. Like the Mercedes limo he’d sent to the airport and the home he’d opened to Caroline and Damon unconditionally, the extra caregivers were another way Malcolm proved extremely generous and thoughtful.
Caroline hadn’t wanted to deprive the young women of the new charge they seemed excited to care for. When she’d left him in the nursery, he was on a blanket in the middle of the thickly carpeted floor, surrounded by blocks and rattles, his every coo and cry tended to by Marcie and Dana. Curious, she now took out her phone to see the nursery monitor feed, and the group was just as she’d left them. Classical music played while Lucas stared up at a baby gym, the young women flying stuffed toys above him to keep him entertained.
Nearby, the elevator doors swished open, alerting her to company. Caroline turned from the view to look out into the hallway through the open door.
Damon approached her, his strong shoulders backlit by the sconces flanking the elevator. He’d changed from the suit he’d worn for their flight. The gray jacket and dark jeans were more casual, the white shirt with no tie a staple look for him. He’d traded his black tie-up dress shoes for boots.
He looked good enough to eat. No doubt that’s why she felt the need to study every inch of him. She was willing to bet he smelled great, too. She had dreamed of that sandalwood and spice scent when she’d been apart from him.
“Is everything all right?” he asked, edging around a café table in the center of the solarium. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“I’m fine.” She lowered herself to sit on a bright-blue modern sofa in front of the window looking down onto the street. “This is like being at the drive-in theater. Only the show playing is New York in a Snowstorm.” She gestured to the wide view framed by long glass panels.
Just hearing Damon’s footsteps on the tile floor made her skin hum with awareness. How was she supposed to be on her guard around him with no baby in her arms to care for? No distractions of any kind?
Her main goals in New York were keeping her child safe and finding out if Damon had married her out of self-interest. The former seemed easier now with a full-time bodyguard devoted to Lucas. And the latter? She wouldn’t be able to discover much until Malcolm McNeill returned to the town house. Or maybe Damon’s half brothers. In the meantime, her husband had made it clear he wanted to start over. Be a couple again.
The memory of his words last night slid over her senses like a caress, making her shiver.
“I can light a fire if you’re cold.” Damon hesitated at the edge of the sofa, pointing toward the hearth on the other side of the room.
“No, thank you.” She realized her mistake as soon as she said it, since he took the opportunity to sit down beside her, bringing all that masculine appeal within inches of her. If she’d taken him up on his offer to build a fire, she would have had more time to build her defenses. “You can see the view better this way. That’s why I didn’t bother to turn a light on.”
“I wondered why you were sitting in the dark.” He kept his attention on the snow coming down, the fat flakes gathering up in the corners of the windowpanes, outlining the view with a frosty border.
“Just soaking up a side of New York I’ve never seen. The year I worked in the Financial District, I lived down there and barely ventured north of Canal Street.” She clung to a neutral conversational topic, safe terrain after the emotional toll of every exchange the day before. “My building was in an old part of the city, but construction was completed the year I moved in. It couldn’t be more different from this place.”
The neo-Renaissance mansion that housed the McNeill patriarch was a turn-of-the-century masterpiece. It even had its own Wikipedia page.
Damon shifted to make himself more comfortable, extending his arm along the back of the sofa just behind her neck. Not touching her. Just...so close. She breathed in the light hint of sandalwood.
“How did you like living here?” he asked, and she felt the warmth of his gaze on her even though she kept her attention on the living snow globe outside the window. “I don’t think we’ve ever talked about that. I know you grew up in San Francisco. Got your degree in Boston. What did you think of New York City?”
“I loved it.” She remembered the joy of earning her own paycheck, and a good one at that. “Coming from a wealthy family, I always felt a bit guilty for having nice things that I didn’t earn for myself.” She had noticed at college the vast difference between kids who were sent to the prestigious school because of their family name and finances, versus the handful of students who were genuinely brilliant and there on scholarship. “But when I lived in New York, I had a sense of independence that I’d never really felt before. I got the job on my own merit and did it well.”
She’d always thought she would return, in fact. She’d kept her apartment on Spruce Street and sublet it since then.
“What made you give it up?” Damon asked. He trailed a finger along her shoulder, a light touch with a powerful impact through the simple cashmere sweater dress she’d changed into after the plane trip.
Keen awareness of that touch made it difficult to concentrate. But did he touch her out of desire? Or a more calculated need to reset the relationship button?
“My father asked me come work for him and help him choose which businesses to invest in.” At the time, she’d felt obligated to fulfill the request since she couldn’t have afforded her college education on her own. “I felt underqualified, and worried he only gave me the job out of family loyalty, but I helped him turn an excellent profit on the two companies he invested in before I got involved in the deal with Transparent.”
She hadn’t thought much about returning to her career since leaving Mexico. And yes, she wanted to be a full-time mother to enjoy every moment with Lucas that she could. But would it restore some of her personal confidence, her faith in herself, if she worked on a part-time basis?<
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“If we hadn’t started a relationship, would you still have recommended your father invest in Transparent?”
“Without question.” She had recovered her memories of the earliest part of their dating first, and she felt certain about her answer. “I knew within the first week that I would endorse it. There was a good energy in the building. Everyone really bought into your ideas.” She hadn’t recommended it that quickly, of course, spending time on the due diligence to make sure the market forecasts and business plans made sense.
But she’d had a strong instinct about the company early on.
“Were you concerned that I wouldn’t be the best CEO to take the company to the next level?”
Straightening, she shook off the allure of his touch and the cozy sensation of watching the snowfall. “Should I look back at my notes? Because I’m getting the impression that there is more to your questions than just casual conversation.”
“You still have your notes?” He lifted a dark eyebrow.
She met his gaze, but she detected only curiosity. Professional interest. She felt a new buzz along her skin that had less to do with attraction and more to do with her work. She’d forgotten the excitement of being a part of a new project, and helping to bring a brilliant idea to life.
“Of course. I did extensive research on your software, from the technical production plans to marketing.” She hadn’t given much thought to Transparent since her marriage. So much had happened in her personal life—from the kidnapping to becoming a mother—that her job was the least of her concerns. But there’d been a time where she lived and breathed her career. “And you must remember that I shared those reports—over a year ago—with my father, since that was part of the terms of his investment.”
“Certainly.” Damon nodded thoughtfully and she recognized that look of deep concentration. When he turned back toward her, his gaze hardened. He was all business. “I had my software tested by a hacker recently, and he discovered a few holes I need to plug before we release it.”
