An Inconvenient Affair

by Catherine Mann

  “God forbid I ever be boring.” His strong fingers worked along her thighs. “Would you like a black-and-white diamond pendant to go with your collection?”

  “You’re being outrageous.” Outrageous—and so charming she didn’t know how she would go back to the real world again, where this fantasy would fade. Because she knew without question, the fantasy always faded.

  “Damn, does that mean I have to take it back to the store?”

  What was he saying? Something about a diamond cow necklace? “You didn’t actually…”

  “You’ll have to wait and see, won’t you?” His massaging hands slid between her legs, arousing her again after all.

  As her knees eased apart, she realized the fantasy was going to live a while longer.

  * * *

  Troy propped his feet on his desk using an upgraded video phone that could put the competitors under if he released it. He still hadn’t decided.

  Sometimes it was better not to upset the order of things. Leave the market alone for now and save the technology for a time it might make a significant difference rather than just adding yet another upgrade for folks to buy while tossing out products still in perfectly good working order.

  All the same, he enjoyed his toys and kept the best of the best here in his own personal, techie version of a man cave. More than just a wall of computers, he had shelves of parts and storage, old and new. For now, he focused on his video call. His brother—the military school kind— was on the other end of the conversation, still wearing his rumpled tux from the concert he’d given the night before.

  “Mozart, I appreciate the help. You’re the man, as always.”

  “It’s all good, my friend.” Malcolm Douglas popped an antacid in his mouth then set aside the plastic jar—already half-empty. Troy’s musical protégé buddy had come a long way from his days at the military reform school—but he still had a finicky stomach. “Consider the favor done within the hour.”

  The casino cover story was starting to grow stale. Some might begin to suspect the truth, since Troy wasn’t renowned for staying in one place for any length of time. Salvatore assured him they had leads; they were on the guy’s trail, just a little longer.

  But Troy wasn’t willing to sit back and bet on it. Backup plans were always in order. So he’d sent photos to online magazines and gossip blogs of him with Hillary having a candlelit dinner. Spliced in with some older photos of him with Malcolm taken last month, the press and the public—and anyone else watching—would think they were in New York City, that they’d had dinner followed by attending a concert.

  “Congrats on the latest gig, by the way. Not too shabby playing Carnegie Hall.”

  “Minor compared to what’s going on in your world right now.” Malcolm brushed off praise as he always had. “The new woman in your life is smokin’ hot. A California dime, no doubt.”

  “Thanks, and careful. That’s my ‘ten.’”

  “Hey, just sayin’.” His buddy continued to push Troy’s buttons for fun. It’s what they did.

  “Note to self, no more candlelight photos for Mozart.”

  Malcolm pointed. “I’m not talking about your romantic dinner pics, buddy. She’s rocking the fluffy robe.”

  Troy spun his chair around fast, feet back on the ground. Sure enough, Hillary stood behind him in her robe, her eyes wide. “Are you talking to the Malcolm Douglas?”

  Jealousy spiked, fast and furious and irrational. He forced himself not to go all caveman just because the woman he cared about happened to be a groupie for this generation’s cross between Harry Connick Jr. and Michael Buble.

  Tearing his eyes off Hillary, Troy pivoted back to the screen. “Gotta run, pal. Thanks again for the help. I owe you.”

  “And I will collect. Count on it.”

  The screen went blank.

  Strolling deeper in the room, she angled her head to the side, auburn hair still tousled from sex and sleep, then more sex and sleep. “Your brothers run in high circles. The friend who helped you at the casino and now him.” She gestured to the empty screen. “There sure are a lot of you.”

  “I wouldn’t say ‘a lot’ of us exactly.” He rocked back in his office chair. “That would make us so…cookie cutter.”

  “Trust me, no one would ever call you cookie cutter.” She held up her hand, a platinum necklace with a white-and-black diamond cow charm dangling from her fingers. “You are one hundred percent original.”

  He grabbed her wrist and tugged her into his lap. “Now that is the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  “I must not be holding up my end of the seduction then.” She wriggled in his lap until she settled.

  “You’re killing me here. I need an energy drink.”

  “Which I’ll be happy to get for you if you’ll make me one promise.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I adore the necklace and gladly accept it. But from here on out, dial back on the extravagant gifts. Okay?”

  “Fair enough.”

  He slid the necklace from her hand. He swept aside her hair and hooked the chain around her neck. He might not be the most romantic guy in the world, but he prided himself on his originality, and he would do everything in his power to obliterate the memory of Barry Curtis.

  He pressed a kiss to the latched chain.

  She glanced back at him, their mouths and eyes so close they almost touched. “What are you thinking?”

  “Something a smart man wouldn’t say.” A wry smile tugged at him.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why would you want to know if I’ve already warned you it might upset you?” Standing, he set her on her feet, cow slippers poking out from the hem of her robe.

  “Because…” She tugged his T-shirt holding him closer. “If you really didn’t want me to know, you would have said something like…‘nothing’ or ‘I’m thinking about breakfast or what goofy hat I’m going to buy next.’”

  “You think my hats are goofy?”

  “I’ll answer you if you answer me.”

  Ah, what the hell? Might as well. “I was thinking about you and your jackass of an ex-boyfriend. I was wondering if you’re still in love with him.”

  Whoa? Wait. That wasn’t exactly what he’d been thinking. He’d just wanted to be sure she was over him. The love word hadn’t entered his mind. But now that he’d gone there with the conversation, there was no going back.

  She sank down into his empty chair, confusion on her face as she studied him. “Looking back, I can see I was never in love with him. I was definitely infatuated—very infatuated.” She grimaced, fingering the diamond necklace. “Dazzled a little. But I like to think I would have seen through the glitz to the real guy underneath at some point.”

  He leaned back against a table of surveillance prototypes, listening. Hoping for what, he wasn’t sure.

  “What can I say?” She shrugged. “I told you right from the start that I have a history for picking bad guys. Eventually, I figure it out. In this case, Barry’s arrest just sped up the realization process.”

  Usually he rocked at being analytical underneath all the jokes, but right now it was tougher than usual. Still, he forced himself to sift through the words. She didn’t love Barry Curtis.

  “Okay, then. I can live with that.”

  Too bad one realization led to another. She doubted her ability to choose the right guy to love, period.

  Leaning her elbows on her knees, she pinned him with her eyes. “How can you be jealous when you’ve only known me a few days?”

  “Who says I’m jealous?” Lame answer for a smart dude.

  “Really? You want to try and bluff?” She laughed…then realized her robe was gaping. She straightened fast and held the part closed. She was shutting down and if he didn’t do or say something fast, he could lose headway in his goal of… What?

  He knew damn well what. It didn’t matter how long he’d known her. He was certain. He wanted her in his life. Permanently
. But he wasn’t sure she was ready to hear that yet. She might not have loved Barry, but she’d been burned badly by the relationship.

  The timing needed to be right. He couldn’t afford to screw this up.

  So he shoved away from the table and stalked toward her, at least letting all the possessive feelings show. “I’m not jealous so much as pissed off that the bastard hurt you.” He pressed his hands on either side of the chair, bringing their faces nose to nose. “I want to beat the crap out of him then hack his identity and wreck his credit. Got a problem with that?”

  A slow smile spread over her face. “No problem at all.” She tugged his bottom lip between her teeth. “And just so we’re totally clear, I think your hats are sexy as hell.”

  Ten

  Her time here was surely coming to a close.

  Hillary floated on a raft, warm waters of the infinity pool lapping over her. She watched Troy swim the length of the pool. Lights underwater illuminated him powering through the depths, while the stars twinkled above on a cloudless night.

  She and Troy had all but lived outside and at the lagoon since they’d arrived five days ago. They’d taken walks—made love in the forest—shared exotic delicacies—made love in the cabana. Learned personal details from political views to a shared preference for scary movies. Eventually they’d made their way inside to dodge the rain, enjoying a horror film in the theater-style screening room.

  Like a real date.

  But real life intruded often enough to keep her from getting too comfortable, too complacent, too eager to believe in something beyond the fantasy. Daily calls from Salvatore let them know he was getting closer. Barry Curtis’s accomplice had been tracked slipping over the channel into Belgium. They were on his tail and expected to catch him at any time.

  What amazed her most was how easily Troy and Salvatore had maneuvered this whole situation while keeping things anonymous. Calls from her sister indicated the public was eating up tabloid stories of Hillary and Troy gallivanting around the globe, wining and dining in a different country every night.

  While she’d enjoyed their dinner in France, she had to admit, the time alone with him was more precious.

  Troy surged to the surface beside her. “Hey, beautiful.” He lifted her hand and kissed each fingertip. “We’re going to be waterlogged by the time we leave this place.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” Especially given the attention he was lavishing on her hand at the moment.

  “Not at all.” He rested his elbows on the edge of her raft. “Just checking to make sure you’re cool with how little time we’ve spent in an actual bed.”

  He’d been attentive, romantic, and she was so tempted to think there was more going on here. But she needed to remember this would end soon. Life back in D.C.—in the real world—would be different. It always was. Still, she would miss the peacefulness of this place.

  She toyed with his hair, longer now that it was wet. “Sleeping in the cabana was romantic. And watching the sunrise on the balcony—amazing. The past five days have been better than any vacation I could imagine. You’ve got the perks of this place down to an art.”

  “An art? What do you mean?” He trailed the backs of his fingers along her breast, down her side and over her bare hip. They’d never gotten around to putting on clothes today.

  She was totally naked other than wearing her diamond cow necklace.

  “If you’ve never brought anyone here, where did you romance all those women you were linked with in the tabloids?” She hated the hint of jealousy leaking into her tone regardless of how hard she tried to tamp it down.

  “Are you jealous?”

  Hell, yes. “Curious.”

  “Everything in the tabloids? All false.” His face was stamped with deep sincerity. “I was a virgin until I met you.”

  Snorting on a laugh, she rolled her eyes. “Right.”

  “Serious,” he continued, with overplayed drama. “I’ve lived like a monk. My staff put saltpeter in all my drinking water so I could save myself until the day I met you.”

  She splashed him in the face. “You’re outrageous.”

  “So you’ve told me.” He snagged her hand before she could splash him again, his face truly earnest now. “Would you rather I detailed past affairs? Because that’s all they were. Affairs. Not relationships. Not serious. And never permanent.”

  Her stomach fluttered at the turn in the conversation. “Is that what we’re doing here? Having an affair?”

  “Damned inconvenient time for an affair, if you ask me.”

  “Okay then, are we having an inconvenient affair?” Those butterflies worked overtime, so much so she couldn’t even pretend she didn’t care about his answer.

  “What if I said this isn’t an affair?” He pinned her with his eyes as they floated together in the center of the pool. “I saw you, and I had to have you.”

  The possessive ring in his voice carried on the wind. Exciting in some ways, and perhaps a hint Cro-Magnon in others.

  “That sounds more like I was a piece of cheesecake on a tray at a restaurant.”

  He winked. “I do like cheesecake.”

  “Could you be serious?” She flicked a light spray into his face.

  He tugged her in with him, and they pushed away from the float. Sliding deeper into the pool, she treaded water, face-to-face with Troy. She looped her arms around his neck and their feet worked below the surface keeping them both afloat.

  “Do you want me to be serious?” His hands cupped her bottom, their bodies a seamless fit against each other. “Because I can be, very much so. Except I get the sense that the timing is off, and if I tell you exactly what I’m thinking, you’ll run.”

  His perceptiveness surprised her. She’d spent so much time enjoying his lighthearted ways and trying to remind herself this was a fantasy that would end, she hadn’t considered he might be thinking of more after this week.

  And he was one hundred percent right that the thought of life after Costa Rica scared her. “You’re a very wise man.”

  Disappointment flickered through his eyes for an instant before his easygoing smile returned. “Then let’s get back to having an inconvenient affair.”

  He sidestroked them to the edge of the pool. Her back met the tiled wall where his feet just touched the ground. He kissed her neck in the sensitive crook, paying extra attention to the place just below her ear that made her…sigh.

  The hard muscles of his chest pressed to her breasts. Heat tingled through her veins, surging and gathering low. She explored the planes of his shoulder blades, his broad shoulders and his arms that held her so securely. He hitched her legs around his waist and started walking toward the semicircle of concrete stairs, kissing her every step of the way.

  Climbing the stairs, still he held her. The air washed over their damp bodies. Goose bumps rose along her skin, every bit as much from Troy as from the night air. She tangled her fingers in his hair, loving the unconventional, uncut look of him.

  With her legs looped around his waist, he carried her into the spacious house. Through the living area where they’d made love on a chaise lounge with the windows open. Past the kitchen counter where they’d had breakfast and each other. And down the hall to his bedroom where they’d yet to spend a night under the covers together.

  He lowered her onto the towering carved bed draped with mosquito netting, like another tree house inside the ultimate tree house. The rest of the room was sparse, with only a wardrobe and a mammoth leather chair by the window. He presented such a fascinating mix of wealth and Spartan living.

  But right now, she didn’t want to think about his decor. Only feel. “This whole week has been a fantasy.”

  “You like fantasies?”

  “What exactly do you have in mind?”

  He eased back to his feet and went to the wardrobe. He tugged out his tuxedo jacket and shook it. Something rattled in the pocket. He pitched the jacket to her and she fished inside to find…

 
“Handcuffs?” She spun them on a finger. “Do you carry these around as a regular accessory?” Her mind filled with sensual possibilities, games she would only play with someone she trusted, and yes, at some point she’d learned to trust him. A scary thought, if she let herself ponder it for too long. So she again focused on the moment, on Troy and on the pleasure they were going to give each other very, very soon.

  “They’re from when I was auctioned off. I tucked them in my pocket and forgot about them until you mentioned fantasies.” He closed the wardrobe, the dim lamplight casting a warm glow over his lean naked body. “The cuffs would have ended up at the cleaners when my tuxedo went in to be dry-cleaned, but we rushed out of the hotel so fast I never got around to it.”

  “The bachelor auction and the way you turned it around was quite a stunt.” She’d been drawn to him then, in spite of her frustration over how little he’d told her on the plane.

  He knelt on the edge of the bed, moving up the mattress until he covered her. “The auction was uncomfortable as hell, but it worked out well.”

  “I have to confess…” She stroked back his still-damp hair, the scent of mint and furniture polish riding the humid air. “I was jealous of your assistant, before I knew who she was, when I thought she’d won a weekend with you.”

  “Jealous, huh?” He hooked two fingers in the other side of the cuff, tugging lightly. “Feel free to elaborate.”

  “I was hoping plastic surgery chick would win.”

  “She wouldn’t have,” he said confidently. A drop of water from his wet hair spilled on her overheated flesh, trickling between her breasts.

  Her nipples tightened from just that one droplet. She shivered in anticipation of how much more there was in store for them.

  “The bidding could have gone much higher.”

  “I still would have won.” His eyes blazed with flinty determination. “My assistant was authorized to do whatever it took.”

  “Just so you could choose me?” How far would he have gone?

  “I didn’t believe Salvatore was doing enough to protect you.” He linked fingers with her, the handcuffs clasped in their joined hands. “I had to come up with a way to keep watch over you and that seemed the easiest way.”