Burned Deep

by Calista Fox

  Finding that curious, I grabbed his business card, which I’d pinned to my corkboard. I tapped the cardstock against my palm for a second or two, debating whether I should alert him to what could be his latest glitch.

  I hardly thought I’d wake him. A man of his caliber and grand success probably didn’t sleep much.

  What if he’s with another woman?

  Okay, that one stung. When I knew it shouldn’t. We had no claim whatsoever on each other. Yet the mere idea of him tangled in the sheets with someone else made me absurdly and vehemently jealous. Ridiculously tormented.

  Now I knew I was in over my head.

  I dialed before I could stop myself or think this through. He picked up on the second ring.

  “You came around a bit faster than I’d expected.”

  I cringed at how my call screamed eager beaver when it came at nearly eleven o’clock at night. On a Sunday.

  Pushing that aside, I asked, “How’d you know it was me?”

  “I’ve seen your number on your business card and application, remember?”

  And what, had memorized it?

  That sent a much too wicked thrill down my spine.

  “Still with me, Ari?” His tone was low and sensual. The most seductive bedroom voice imaginable. My inner thighs flamed. My stomach quivered. And we were just on the phone!

  Potent was a mammoth understatement for this man.

  “I’m still here,” I said, my own voice the soft, sultry one that seemed to be reserved specifically for him. Which was just one more intimate thing between us when intimacy was what I wanted to evade.

  “So, you’ve made up your mind about the director position?”

  I sucked in a sharp breath, let it out slowly. “Actually, that’s not why I’m calling.” I still needed more time to wade through all the exciting yet conversely troubling nuances presented. “Are you alone?”

  Whoa. I winced inwardly. Where the hell had that come from?

  Unfortunately, I knew precisely from where. I couldn’t let go of the image of the Heidi Klum lookalike grazing her breasts against his chest, smiling beguilingly at him.

  He was quiet for several seconds that felt more like an eternity, leaving me to grind over how possessive I’d sounded. That was his department, not mine.

  Eventually, he asked, “What would make you think I was with someone?”

  “I just—I—” Oh, Jesus. “I saw you with a woman at Tlaquepaque. I just assumed—”

  Ugh! I bounced the heel of my hand off my forehead a few times. I was a colossal idiot.

  “So that’s what that bizarre question about interviewing female executives was all about. You should have said something sooner.”

  “I shouldn’t be saying anything at all,” I lamented.

  “Ari, she’s a friend,” he explained. “Her name is Mikaela Madsen. She and her boyfriend, Fabrizio Catalano, are trying to open a shop in Old Town Scottsdale. They import gourmet olive oils, wines, meats, cheeses, and the like. All from Brizio’s family village in Italy. They’ve run into a few snags with zoning and City Council and Mikaela asked for my help.”

  I sighed despondently. What was worse than a colossal idiot? A monumental one?

  “So … you’re jealous?” he asked with interest in his tone, while I backpedaled in my mind. “Because, Ari,” he added, “that’s sexy. But not warranted. I wouldn’t have said what I did last night if I weren’t serious about being with you.”

  Being with you …

  Those words caused apprehension and excitement to crash over me. I struggled for a way out of this conversation that I’d started. But my thoughts were all twisted and nonsensical.

  I hastily said, “That’s not at all what I meant. Not the reason I’m calling.” My heart thumped ridiculously fast. Geez, just shoot me now. “Do you know your Web site is down?”

  “That’s why you’re calling?” He made a tsking sound, so cool and nonchalant. While I could barely breathe. “Now I’m disappointed. I was hoping you were tossing and turning in bed, thinking about me and wondering what I might be able to do about your restlessness.”

  “I—” I shook my head. I was restless. How had he known? Was I really this transparent with him?

  “If you’re interested in a bedtime story, I’d be happy to make one up for you,” he taunted in his sexy voice. “But be forewarned: It’s no sweet, innocent fairy tale.”

  Of course not. Because you are the devil.

  A hotter than hell one at that.

  “I’ll pass on the story,” I said. Coward. “Is your site scheduled for maintenance tonight?”

  “Not that I’m aware of,” he told me, the discontent over my avoidance thick in his tone. I heard his fingers click on the keyboard, so he must be in his office. Or he could be working on a laptop at home. I almost asked but pressed my lips together to keep from sounding as though I were stalking him. “That’s weird,” he muttered. “It’s solid black.”

  A crack of thunder made me jump. Rain pelted the windows. All I needed now was a terrifying flock of ravens perched on the tree limbs outside and I could call it a day.

  I said, “There was an Under Construction tag with some digits at the bottom, but they only flashed a few times before trickling away.”

  “Digits? Do you remember what they were?”

  “Not really. Started with a five…”

  He fell silent again. Tension arced between us. I could feel him brooding. Could picture the furrowed brow and the clenched jaw. Something definitely was not right with the problems at 10,000 Lux.

  “One more complication?” I ventured.

  “I’ll get it fixed in the morning.” His tone was still low and sexy but decisive. “Now, about the job. Say, Yes, it’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and then we can wrap up the business portion of this call.”

  That spark only he could ignite made my clit tingle. The ache inside me sprang to life—an incessant need that consumed me. A demanding, erratic pulsing in my core that would only intensify if I stayed on the phone with him.

  “Ari,” he said, his tone coaxing. “What’s the point in stalling? What more can I offer to make you agree?”

  “Nothing,” I told him. “Everything you’ve put on the table is … perfect. Yes, everything I’ve ever wanted. The rest,” as he’d termed it during dinner the night before, “is something entirely different.”

  “I’ve explained about Mikaela. And I’ve been patient with you. You can’t expect me to wait forever.”

  “Dane, we’ve known each other for, like, two weeks.”

  “Yes,” he said, the sound of his laptop snapping closed and him settling into a chair or sofa echoed his frustration. “And I haven’t laid a hand on you. That’s killing me, Ari.”

  Exhilaration shot through me. The throbbing in my pussy had me squeezing my legs together.

  “Dane,” I grumbled. God, he lit me up so easily. Too easily.

  “Tell me what you sleep in.”

  My eyelids closed tightly as magma started to flow in place of blood.

  “Ari,” he prompted, a hint of need edging his voice, tearing at me. “Give me something to work with here.”

  My cheeks warmed. “Nothing provocative, sorry. I’ve got on a faded Edmonton Oilers T-shirt, ripped at the neck.”

  “Mm.” He sounded a bit more satisfied. “Number?”

  “Ninety-nine, of course.”

  “The Great One. Wayne Gretzky. I wouldn’t take you for a hockey fan.”

  Shoving thoughts of how much more thrilling a response someone like Mikaela Madsen would give to his question, I stood and flipped off the light switch, then returned to the living room. The storm was a bad one, and it made me a little nervous as I thought again of its warning, the potential for it to truly be an omen. Though I fought that odd notion tugging at me. Monsoons were unpredictable and they could be mild and last two weeks or torrential and last two months. Total crapshoot.

  Not an omen, Ari.

  Cur
ling up on the sofa that faced the patio doors and the golf course beyond, I dragged the throw from the back of the couch and draped it over my bare legs.

  “My dad got me into hockey,” I said, “when Gretzky coached the Phoenix Coyotes. He never missed a game on TV. He and Gretzky played a pro-am tourney together. That’s when I met him.”

  “Bryce DeMille is your dad—I read that in the bridal magazine feature. I’ve seen him on ESPN. He had a very promising career.”

  “And a bad shoulder.”

  “He’ll like the courses at the Lux.”

  “I haven’t said yes yet.”

  “But you will.”

  I couldn’t help the smile. “Okay. You win.”

  “I had every intention of winning.” The dark tinge around those words made me fear them even more than before. “Now, tell me what kind of panties you’re wearing.”

  I gasped. Not so much at his demand, but at the way he so deeply aroused me.

  Still, I hedged, fighting for at least a tiny patch of safe ground. “You’re not seriously asking a new employee about her underwear.”

  “No. I’m asking you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want the visual, damn it.”

  I sighed. He had lust flashing through my body with such little effort on his part. I was so out of my league with him, but I felt the tether. I felt the tug as he pulled me slowly to his side. Even my convictions couldn’t anchor me to that safe patch I’d sought.

  “I meant, why me?”

  He was quiet again. I wondered if I exasperated him, but then he said, “I can’t really explain it. You came through the door of the bar at the resort and my papers flew off the table. It was like … a silent call, grabbing my attention when it was so set on business. I watched you cross to your wedding party, every single thing about you instantly registering in my mind. Burning deep into my mind.”

  He let out a sexy, irritable sound—like he couldn’t quite figure out his own reaction to me. It sent heat waves along my skin.

  Continuing, he said, “Your hair, the sway of your hips, the way you carried yourself, those seriously gorgeous legs … I didn’t even get a good look at your face until you glanced over your shoulder, and yet I was hooked. And when you finally turned toward me … Christ. You stole my breath.”

  The air rushed from my own lungs. “I felt you staring at me. When Kyle was flirting.”

  “I didn’t like him moving in so close to you,” he admitted, his tone dark again. “I could see you were uncomfortable. You flinched—I didn’t like that he’d done that to you. The tat guy, either.”

  My eyes closed as fire flared. “Why did you step in?” More silence. His tension seeped into my soul. “Dane?”

  “I don’t want anyone else touching you, Ari. I thought I made that clear from the beginning.”

  “Oh.” His words were jolting. He’d marked his territory from the onset?

  And how long did that branding last?

  I gnawed my lower lip as I considered how strong this undertow was, and whether I’d surface when it released me. Or—

  “Tell me about your panties.”

  “You can’t shift gears so fast, Dane. I’m not a Venom F5.”

  “No shifting. I told you I wanted you the second I saw you. Tell me what I want to hear.”

  He was slightly infuriating but mostly irresistible. Impossible to deny. “Boy shorts. Pink lace.”

  A low growl filled the line. “Now I’m hard. I want to peel your shirt off.”

  My breasts felt instantly heavier, fuller. My pulse beat deep in my core. “Dane.”

  “I want to rub my fingers over the lace between your legs. Stroking slowly.”

  I fought a gasp.

  “No, I want you naked,” he amended, his voice rough with desire. “Beneath me as I sink into you.”

  I could easily picture him stretched above me, naked, all of his muscles hard and flexed. Then pumping slowly into me, my hips lifting to meet his full thrusts.

  A soft moan escaped my parted lips.

  “That’s a start.” He added, “I want to know all the little sounds you make when you’re hot for me. I want to hear you moan as I’m exploring all of you, staring into your eyes. I want you wet and calling my name when I make you come.”

  I was so, so close. It was surreal, crazy even, the way my body responded strongly to the sexy things he said. I couldn’t for the life of me imagine how I’d ever survive the real deal.

  If we ever made it to the real deal.

  I should put a stop to this. I should.

  “Dane.”

  He whispered, “I need to be inside you, Ari.”

  That was all it took. I pressed two fingers to my clit and came, grinding out an, “Oh, God,” as the fiery sensations tore through me.

  chapter 6

  “What are you doing?” I demanded in a quiet tone, my breath still coming in heavy pulls as orgasmic aftershocks ricocheted through my body.

  “The same thing you’re doing.”

  “No.” My chest heaved. “You didn’t just come.”

  “Because I’m waiting to be in your mouth or in your pussy when I do.”

  Christ. I’d never win this game—he kept me hot and restless just with his words.

  “Exactly how long do you think you can hold out?” I dared to ask.

  “I’ve waited a long time for you, Ari. And I’ll wait more if you need me to. You’re worth it.”

  “You don’t know that.” A hint of insecurity crept in on me. I didn’t consider myself inhibited by any means. But this was different from anything else I’d experienced. He was different. I tried to get a firmer hold on all of this, asking, “What do you mean you’ve waited a long time for me? We just met.”

  “I meant in the ethereal sense. That innate knowledge that someone is out there, and she’s going to be everything I didn’t even know I wanted.”

  “Oh, God.” My spirits sank. “You really are going to be disappointed.”

  Ignoring my dismal comment, he said, “At first, I wasn’t inclined to accept how powerfully I reacted to seeing you. Then you got tangled up with the two other men, and I knew it was inevitable.”

  I sucked in a breath. He’d just described the exact way I’d felt the previous evening. That same word had popped into my head.

  “So far,” he said while I tried to catch my breath, “you’re exceeding expectations.”

  “I haven’t done anything yet,” I muttered.

  That delicious growl of his met my ears. “You’re insanely beautiful. You know that, don’t you?”

  My heart fluttered. “I’ve been told something along those lines a time or two.” Not that it mattered, since I wasn’t looking for anyone to get hooked on me. For some reason, though, hearing the sentiment from him did all kinds of frenzied things to my insides.

  “It’s not just your body that attracts me. It’s everything, Ari. Everything about you captivates me—your face, those big blue eyes, how breathless you are around me.”

  His lusty tone compelled me to say, “You seem to like my breasts, too.”

  “Mm, yes. You have a nice ass as well.”

  The aftershocks kept coming.

  He added, “I liked how seriously you took your job as wedding planner and yet you were flexible and personal enough to do a shot with those guys. You seemed to grasp how nervous the groom was and helped to calm him. Plus, you were meticulous about the entire wedding. I admire that sort of dedication and talent.”

  “As you mentioned, the smallest of details are crucial. It’s the special touches that make events sparkle.”

  “You’ll do a great job at the Lux. Don’t think you’re going to let me down there. Not a chance.”

  “I was thinking more in terms of—”

  “I know what you were thinking. And you’re wrong,” he said with conviction.

  Exhilaration hitched a ride on my racing pulse. But then a loud clap of thunder reverberated within me and
the rain fell even heavier. My heart thumped harder.

  “I have to go,” I said suddenly. Omens weren’t anything to mess with, even if you didn’t believe in them.

  “You only get so many hasty retreats, Ari,” he warned.

  “Good night, Dane.”

  I disconnected the call. Closed my eyes. Wondered what the hell I was doing.

  I’d just consented to work at 10,000 Lux. I’d just let my new boss talk dirty to me—and I’d liked it. I’d had an orgasm while on the phone with him.

  And then he’d told me I was everything he’d never even known he wanted.

  I pulled in several deep breaths. They didn’t steady me, because a very disconcerting thought haunted my mind: How long could I avoid the inevitable?

  * * *

  One would think a seriously powerful orgasm inspired by a seriously hot man would take the edge off a seriously sexually deprived woman. In my case, one would be wrong.

  All it did was make me want Dane more.

  He called around nine the next morning. I wished he’d have asked me again what I was wearing. This time I could have give him a sexier answer, since I’d just stepped out of the shower.

  But he was all business.

  “Can you come to the hotel around eleven?” he asked without preamble. Tension tinged his voice.

  “Sure.”

  “I’m on my way to the airport. I have to go to Paris for some meetings. I’ll be gone all week.”

  Why did that make my stomach knot? Was it the thought of not seeing him?

  “Everything okay?” I asked.

  “It will be when I’m done.” His determination echoed in his voice, a dangerous edge I didn’t miss, couldn’t deny. It evoked a razor-sharp vibe that made warning signals go off in my head once more. The hairs on my arms stood on end. What was I really getting myself into?

  He said, “I need you to see my VPs of Human Resources and Legal Affairs. One of them will meet you in the lobby. There’s paperwork to fill out, contracts to sign. I’ve also arranged for Amano, my head of Security, to give you the tour of the property, since I won’t be able to do it myself.” This time, it was regret I heard. As though it meant a lot to him to be the one to show me the resort. I supposed it would, since the Lux was his pride and joy.