Flirting with Felicity

by Gerri Russell

“I’m not ready to surrender yet, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Her smile faded along with the intimacy of the prior moments. “Make yourself comfortable here in the lobby, or you can make your way upstairs. I’ll join you as soon as possible, and I’ll do everything in my power to change your mind.”

  In the next heartbeat she was gone. Make yourself comfortable? He hadn’t been comfortable since the first moment they’d met. Something about Felicity’s determination set him on edge, and brought out a strange protective instinct in him that he hadn’t felt for ages. Usually he only felt need when it came to women, but with her, he felt something more, something softer, tender.

  Blake frowned and dismissed the thought, donning the mantle he’d shaped over the years. He had a job to do, and such thoughts would not help him achieve his goal. He was too close to getting what he wanted to let emotions get in his way.

  Felicity raced to her room and unlocked the door. She had to shower and find something appropriate to wear. She had to change Blake’s mind about the hotel.

  Eager to return to Blake, Felicity headed for the bathroom and turned on the shower, letting it warm up while she took off her usual chef’s attire. She’d shown Blake what she could about the people who worked at the restaurant and the hotel, and she’d shown him the patrons who used the services she provided. It was time to hit him hard with the last weapon in her arsenal. She reached for a small box beside the bed and set it on the coverlet, hoping what was inside would do the trick.

  Then, clipping her hair on top of her head so as not to get it wet, she stepped into the water. She allowed the warm moisture to soak away the scent of garlic as well as her doubts. Minutes later, refreshed and certainly more awake, Felicity shut off the water. She grabbed a towel and, as she dried herself, wondered what might be appropriate to wear.

  She wasn’t trying to seduce him, yet an alluring dress might help her cause more than a blouse and a conservative pair of pants ever could. On that thought she stepped from the bathroom and headed to her closet. Her choices were few. She had the black sheath dress she wore the day before, a peach-colored sundress, or her dark blue satin wrap dress. Paired with her red heels, the attractive yet subtle blue dress would be perfect for her cause.

  Felicity set aside her towel and slipped into her bra and panties, then her dress. After she’d tied it about her, she ran her fingers through her dry hair, settling the platinum-blonde curls loose about her shoulders. She scooped up the box and stepped into the hall, making her way to the hotel’s bar for the cocktails she’d asked Ryan, her bartender, to prepare for her.

  Minutes later, armed with two peach Bellinis and with the small box tucked under her arm, she stepped out into the warm night air in the rooftop garden. Blake was already there. He had changed into black pants with a perfectly pressed white shirt. He turned at her entrance, his face alight with an appreciative smile.

  Felicity found herself caught and held by the warmth in his eyes. It would be so easy to go to him, to reach out and touch his lips, gently trace the smile with her finger. Desire flared. She held it in check as she moved toward him and offered him a tall champagne flute.

  “What’s this?” he asked, accepting the proffered glass.

  She put the small box on the table she’d set between two wicker chairs. “A peach Bellini, Bancroft-style.”

  He took a sip. “Delicious,” he said, his tone warm and stirring as he studied her from head to toe. Desire swam in the depths of his blue eyes.

  An answering warmth flared to life deep in her core as she took a sip of her own drink and turned her attention to the sun as it slowly sank beneath the horizon, casting threads of orange and red over the Seattle skyline. “There is something wonderful about a sunset,” she said more to herself than to further their conversation.

  Even though she wasn’t looking at him, she could feel Blake slip beside her, resting his hip against the edge of the brick balcony. Felicity continued. “Here in Seattle, the sun seems to hover at the horizon as though waiting for something.”

  She’d always loved that fact. The sun did just sit there, especially in the summer, waiting, as the horizon turned a darker gray. With every moment that went by, the sky deepened from gray to dark blue and finally to black, until night was upon them. In comparison to the sun, the night had a beauty in its own way—one of mystery and possibility.

  It was the possibility that flowed through her now.

  Silence settled between them, stretched as the softness of the night descended. The solar lights that dotted the balcony came on, flooding the area in a warm, gold light. She turned away from the balcony edge and returned her glass to the table between the two chairs. She picked up the box and took off the lid. Inside she removed three pictures and handed them to Blake. “I found them in Vern’s room before you came to help me.”

  Warm evening air ruffled his hair as he accepted the old photographs. His smile faded and his voice dropped to a near whisper. “Where did you say you got these?” His fingers trembled ever so slightly as he tried incredibly hard to be invincible. His gaze clung to the picture of himself as a child, posed between his mother and father at the front entrance of the hotel. He flipped to the second picture of himself and his parents a couple of years later, this time on the same balcony he and Felicity occupied now.

  His features softened as he looked at the last one—his mother, holding a baby in her arms. Felicity assumed it was Blake, though she didn’t know for sure. “I don’t have many photographs of my parents. They were put into storage somewhere after the accident. It’s been so long no one remembers where they are.”

  Felicity had read that his parents had died in a boating accident sixteen years ago. Painful longing flitted across his features. She knew the look. It was the same one she’d tried so hard to hide throughout her entire childhood. She could see the twist of pain that moved through him. Admiration flared. He’d been orphaned, abandoned by his only family, and left to figure out life on his own. She wasn’t certain how he’d done it . . . how he’d taken that pain and fashioned it into something he could live with. He could have used what had happened to him and turned it into anger. Instead, he’d turned his energy toward the environment much like she did toward the homeless.

  “My parents and I lived at the Bancroft for a time while our house was being built on Mercer Island.”

  “From the photos, it looks like those were happy times.”

  He flipped back to the two of him and his parents. “They were. My parents died shortly after this last picture was taken.” His voice was thick, as though holding back his emotions. “I’m the reason they’re dead.”

  “Why would you say that?” she asked.

  A faraway look entered his eyes. “I’ve never told anyone this before.”

  She said nothing, simply listened.

  “My father and I fought on the day before he and my mother died. It was a heated argument about something stupid. I threw a handful of coins at him. It startled him enough that he slipped and hit his head on the floor. My mom suspected he had a concussion, but he wouldn’t do a damn thing about it. He drove their boat into the rocks because of that concussion. I’ve blamed myself for their accident ever since.”

  An almost aching tenderness unfolded within her. The need to reach out, to thread her fingers with his, rose like a wave in her. She wanted to take him in her arms, without words—to let him know that she cared, sympathized. “None of what happened to your parents was your fault. It was an accident.”

  “Felicity—” Her name, spoken so gently, hung between them. Slowly he lifted his eyes to hers. “Thank you for that.”

  “With the perspective of adulthood, you have to see that the accident could have had any number of causes. Your parents wouldn’t want you to carry the blame for what happened to them.” Her heart thudded against her chest at the look of relief in his eyes. She couldn’t say anything more. Instead, she simply brought a hand up to his cheek and rested it there.
The world slowed to an aching, exquisite crawl as longing she had tried so hard to ignore spiraled through her.

  He pressed into her touch. Moonlight cast him in a cameo of pale light as her breath caught, released, then became a sigh of wonder when he reached up and brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear.

  The moment spun out, seemed to lengthen, and a thick, charged silence followed. A cloud drifted past the near-full moon, leaving only the soft, glimmering gold light to wrap around them, closing out the world beyond.

  He continued to watch her, neither moving forward, nor retreating. The same desire she had seen in the kitchen earlier today shone in his eyes, yet he waited. Waited for her?

  Something had happened between them tonight, something special. They shared a bond that went beyond words, a bond that went straight to her heart. Overhead, the wispy black cloud that covered the moon moved on and mixed the golden hues with blue-white light.

  “I’d forgotten what this place meant to me once,” He trailed his finger across her cheek, to her chin, down her neck and into the V between her breasts.

  Her breasts tightened.

  The night whispered about them, and cooling air swirled around their feet. He brought his hands to her waist and pulled her closer. She could feel herself shift upward as his lips descended.

  Felicity moaned at the contact. This kiss was different from his last one—feather soft at first. And it made her burn.

  He left her lips and trailed a blazing path down her jaw to her neck, his tongue tracing her skin ever so lightly. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and surrendered her weight to him.

  “You’re so tempting,” he whispered, then traced the curve of her ear with his tongue.

  She knew she should pull away, that she should fight the raging need in her. This man had the power to take everything away from her. He was supposed to be her opponent. If she gave in to her own desire, he would have the power to hurt her more. Would that possible hurt be worth the risk? Because all she wanted to do right now was give herself over to the pleasure he created in her and spend the rest of the night exploring every inch of his body with her lips, her hands, and her tongue.

  He found her mouth once more. His tongue slipped between her lips to touch hers. At the contact, a jolt of pure electricity shot through her body and landed in her core. Slowly, with a tiny portion of her brain that was still capable of rational thought, she lifted her lips from his but didn’t look away.

  His midnight eyes were filled with blatant desire, and, for a heartbeat, she was tempted to continue, to see where the night would take them. Her body still on fire, she took a step back.

  Blake held on to her hands, but allowed her to put some distance between them. “Tell me something?” she asked.

  He arched a brow, but didn’t say anything as he kept looking at her as though he wanted to devour her right then and there.

  Standing there, bathed in moonlight, with his hair slightly tousled, he looked more dashing than any man had a right to. The air between them was rife with tension, with mutual need. The force of it took her breath and made her both weak and strong at the same time. “Has anything I showed you today made you reconsider your plans for the Bancroft?”

  “I would like to say no, but then I’d be lying.”

  Warmed by his words, she squeezed his hands. “Thank you for your honesty.”

  He gave her a tight-lipped smile. His eyes were alive with humor and hunger. “There’s no reason to lie.”

  A thousand emotions tore through Felicity. Gratitude, humor, but most of all desire. With a groan, she pulled away and walked over to the balcony’s edge, gazing once more across the city. She had to look anywhere but at him, or she knew where the night would end . . . in his bed.

  “Tomorrow it’s your turn to show me your world.” He came to stand beside her, and her heart sped up once more. He didn’t even have to touch her for her body to react. “Is there anything special I need to pack?” She turned to face him.

  He reached out and caressed her jaw with the back of his hand. “What I want to show you doesn’t require any clothes at all,” he said with a grin.

  She shivered at his touch. “I’m sure public nudity is frowned upon in San Francisco.”

  “Oh, c’mon,” he said, his voice teasing. “We’ll set a new fashion trend.”

  She looked at the sky, imploring divine aid. “Dear God, wherever he takes me tomorrow, please make it be warm if clothing is optional.”

  He laughed. “All right. Whatever you have I’m sure will be fine. You might want a summer dress, maybe a swimsuit, and definitely something formal.”

  Felicity’s laughter faded. Something formal? “When is Peter picking us up for the airport?”

  “At noon.”

  Great. That gave her two hours after the stores opened to find not only a swimsuit, but a formal gown worthy of Blake Bancroft. And she knew just who to ask for help.

  To Felicity, clothes were meant to cover her body and provide warmth. In Mary Beth’s prior life as a socialite, she had learned how to use clothes to make a statement.

  Felicity took in the man before her. Oh, she definitely needed to make a statement if she were going to win the challenge he put before her. On his territory, she would need every advantage.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Blake flipped up the hood of his windbreaker as he stepped outside the Bancroft Hotel. He was about to get started on a morning run that would help him forget about the woman who occupied far too many of his thoughts these days, when he noticed Destiny leaning against the lamppost on the corner across from the hotel. She was dressed in a gray jogging suit, and, upon seeing him, crossed the street.

  “Destiny,” he greeted, not even trying to keep his irritation from his voice. She held a white bag and two cups of coffee in her hands. “When you didn’t call, I knew I had to take matters into my own hands.” She offered him an encouraging smile. “I brought breakfast for two.”

  Blake frowned. He hadn’t called Destiny, because he had no intention of telling her what should remain private between him and Felicity. “I’m going for a run.”

  “Mind if I join you?”

  He arched a brow. “With coffee and donuts?”

  “They’re spinach feta wraps, and . . . oh, I suppose it really doesn’t matter what they are.” She looked around her, then moved to the other side of the street again and deposited the food with a young boy walking a dog before returning to Blake’s side.

  “Isn’t he a little young for coffee?”

  She shrugged. “He’s got to have parents around here somewhere. Let’s go.”

  When Blake realized he wasn’t going to get rid of the reporter, he figured he would simply outrun her. He started off down Terry Avenue the way he and Felicity had walked just the other day. A run along the waterfront had seemed like a good idea this morning. Now he wasn’t so certain.

  “Rough night?”

  He’d had a hard time sleeping as his thoughts kept going back to Felicity. “Do I look that bad?”

  “I doubt you’ve looked bad a day in your life, regardless of sleep, or other activities,” she said, keeping pace.

  “I have no intention of discussing the Bancroft with you,” he said as a gull squawked overhead.

  “We can talk about whatever you want to talk about.”

  “What do you want, Destiny?” He settled into his usual rhythm, feeling irritated that she was keeping up with him.

  “Was your uncle always manipulative?” Her tone was carefree, but Blake sensed the question was more important to her than she tried to reveal.

  “Are you asking for my sake, Felicity’s, or yours?” The staccato of their footsteps punctuated each word.

  She looked at him briefly, then turned her gaze back to the street before them. “Don’t be dramatic. I just want to know why the old man left Felicity the hotel over you. She was company for him, but nothing more. So why would he be that generous with her, unless there’s more t
o the story.”

  “It’s a story I don’t know. If you want any information, you’ll have to go to Felicity herself.”

  “She’ll never talk to me. Not now.”

  “Because of whatever feud is between the two of you? She said you used to be friends.”

  They came to a light at Alaskan Way and were forced to stop. Blake jogged in place while Destiny doubled over, trying to catch her breath. “Sometimes life makes certain choices for you.”

  The sharpness of Destiny’s tone caused him to look at her in surprise. “What do you mean?”

  She straightened. “Nothing.” The light changed, and she bolted across the street.

  The scents of salt and sea and creosote touched his senses as he crossed the street to join her. “Why write a story at all? There’s no news there.” As they had the other morning, fishermen lined the wharf, trying to sell their morning catch.

  “You’re wrong. Whatever happened between your uncle and Felicity is newsworthy.” Her cheeks were mottled, and she was starting to show fatigue.

  “What’s newsworthy about an old man dying? And he died of natural causes, so don’t even think of going down that path.” The sound of their footsteps on the pavement joined the rumble of voices coming from the makeshift market.

  “But there’s more to this story than your uncle dying unexpectedly. I intend to prove that Felicity knew who Vernon Bancroft was before he died, and that she manipulated him into leaving her this hotel.”

  “For your own revenge, or for the good of the community?”

  “Maybe a little of both. Felicity is living in the past, as far as the Bancroft is concerned. The glories of the old place faded long ago. It’s time for the Bancroft to step into the future. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

  “It’s all I want.” He was lying to himself. That wasn’t all he wanted. His motives weren’t as pure as he was trying to convince himself. His corporation wanted one thing from Felicity; his body wanted something more.

  “Then let’s make that happen together. Let me take you to dinner tonight. We can talk and see where that leads us,” she said suggestively.