As he closed his eyes and felt her body squeeze around the most intimate part of him, he felt like he was falling. Free-falling endlessly to somewhere filled with light, warmth and security.
‘Alex?’
The tremulous question in her voice made him open his eyes. His body felt like it had just come out of a sauna, but hers was shaking. He pulled out of her carefully, but was taken aback when she turned into his arms. Burying her face against his chest, she clung tight.
He swept his hand under the curtain of her hair and cupped the back of her head. ‘Elena?’
Her eyes were deep and dewy as she looked up at him, and her expression cut right through his chest. Oh, God. He’d hurt her. She hadn’t wanted it as much as he thought she had. She was about to cry. ‘Damn, babe, I’m so –’
She shocked the hell out of him when she went up on tiptoe and cupped his face. His stubble rasped as she pulled him down for an insane, hot-blooded kiss.
It wiped out his thoughts, his plans. Hell, it even kicked out his own name.
She timidly pressed her tongue into his mouth, and his knees buckled. Reaching around her, he caught the balcony railing for support. Leaning into her, he let her do whatever the hell she wanted to do to him.
In the end, it was just a kiss – in the way that Mount Vesuvius was just a volcano.
When she pulled back, Alex looked at her blankly. There was dampness on her cheeks. She was crying, but it wasn’t tears of pain or sadness.
It knocked the arrogance right out of him. Nobody was dominating anyone here.
‘You’re more than dangerous,’ he said gruffly, ‘you’re lethal.’
She smiled tremulously, but then wrapped her arms around his middle and cuddled close.
He kissed the top of her head and stroked her back.
She shivered again. Without the heat of an orgasm blasting through him, he realised how chilly it truly was. The sun might have lit up the sky for a while, but the temperature still wasn’t conducive to buck-nakedness.
Stooping, he swept up the blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders before lifting her in his arms. She weighed about as much as his briefcase, or so it seemed.
He stepped into the slippers she’d left behind. Cold feet hadn’t been a problem earlier, but right now he could hardly feel his toes.
He carried her back to the bedroom and closed the sliding glass door behind them. He laid her on the mussed sheets, then climbed in after her. The blanket and comforter were bunched up near their feet. He spread the pile over them and waited for their body heat to radiate.
‘Alex?’
‘Hm?’ He’d found a comfortable spot on the pillow and he tugged her practically on top of him. He was growing sleepy again. Sleep and sex with her could become addictive, despite the cost. This time, though, he’d make sure she didn’t leave the bed without him knowing.
‘Was it bad in prison?’
He went still. Bad? He’d been locked up, his free will taken away. He’d been lumped in with murderers, drug dealers and wife-beaters. He’d walked away from that place, swearing not to look back, yet it had followed him into locked rooms and into his sleep – or it had until she’d entered his bed. ‘I don’t want to talk about that.’
Her gaze dropped. She laid her hand against his chest and her thumb traced the edge of his pec. ‘What had you planned on doing when you got here? Alone in this big, gaping house? I mean, if you hadn’t found me?’
He threaded his fingers through her hair. That was treacherous ground, too.
He looked into her face. Where was she going with this? ‘Rage,’ he admitted. ‘And plan.’
Her hand stopped caressing his chest and hovered right over his heart. ‘Plan what?’
He schooled his face. ‘It doesn’t matter. You were here.’
Her eyelashes fluttered and she lifted that doe-eyed gaze to pin him. She watched him for a long moment. ‘Don’t make me regret trusting you,’ she finally whispered.
A muscle worked in his jaw, but he said nothing.
Because that was a promise he couldn’t make. Not when he couldn’t trust her.
Chapter Eight
He’d made her mindless.
It was the only explanation.
Elena was still as she leaned against the window frame, staring out at the lake, but her finger traced its edge over and over again. Inside, she was all tangled up. Around Alex, she did things she wouldn’t normally do and now she felt guilty, confused and apprehensive. So uncomfortable, it was taking everything inside her not to throw some boxes into her car and leave.
She’d done it again.
She’d slept with him. It was like she didn’t know herself any more. All it took was a look from him or a kiss. His touch could make her cast aside her doubts and principles. Was he her enemy or her lover? She didn’t know.
It was this place. The situation. It was messing with her head, toying with her emotions. Screwing up her judgment.
Her fingers curled around the curtain, wrinkling it.
She’d looked through his notebook.
She’d spied on him while he’d been sleeping. She’d had every reason in the world, but now remorse was making her sick. She’d only had the nerve to flip through a few pages, and she hadn’t understood anything she’d seen. It was all in some programming language. The only things she recognised were the equations from Dr Walters’s economics book.
That had confused her even more.
What was he up to? He’d already been convicted of a financial scheme. Was he pompous enough to try again? Or was he simply trying to catch up at work? Wolfe Pack did specialise in market analysis software.
She rested her forehead against the window and the chill felt good against her warm face.
It didn’t matter. Justified or not, she felt terrible. She was no Mata Hari. She couldn’t continue like this.
Why did she have to respond to him the way she did? She wanted him, regardless of his crimes – and she’d been one of his victims. Was there a part of her, deep down, that recognised something good in him? Was it possible he was telling the truth? Why did she find herself wishing that more and more when a court of law had already decided otherwise?
The phone rang before she could find an answer. Moving back to her desk, she picked up her cell. Her face flared when she saw the caller’s ID. Letting out a puff of air, she answered. ‘Hi, Mom.’
‘Hi, baby. Have you seen the news?’
Her attention focused. Her mother’s voice had an edge.
‘No, I’ve been working.’ Or trying to. ‘What’s going on?’
‘You’re not going to believe this. Bartholomew Wolfe was spotted again.’
‘Where?’ One word, one name, and Elena’s priorities were back on track. Reaching out, she moved her mouse to wake up her computer. She might be developing soft feelings for the younger Wolfe, but his grandfather was another story. The old man had never faced up to his crimes.
‘Belize.’
‘South America?’ She frowned and glanced at the world map she’d hung on the wall. Grabbing a pen, she walked over and marked an X. Stepping back, she surveyed the myriad dots that had been marked across the world. ‘I doubt that. Belize has an extradition treaty with the United States.’
‘But the man who thinks he saw him is a banker.’
And the last one had been a day trader.
Elena moved back to her desk and sat. Finding this man was becoming like a snipe hunt. ‘According to my chart, that’s the sixth country where a sighting has been reported.’
‘I know it’s a long shot.’
But her mother still wanted the man to pay. Everyone did. Elena jiggled her mouse again. She wanted to read the stories for herself and see if there were any bits in them that rang true. She frowned when the screen lit up, but her spreadsheet program closed. ‘What?’
She heard the ding of a timer on the other end of the line and the screech of an oven door. ‘Sorry, baby. What was that?’
‘Lainie?’
She put down the phone and switched to speaker mode. She reached for the keyboard, but she was afraid to touch anything. ‘My computer is … Ahhh! It’s crashed.’
‘Uh oh.’ The edge had left her mother’s voice to be replaced with concern.
‘Maybe it was just a glitch. Or it’s booting again to install updates.’
She knew it was neither. Her luck just hadn’t been going that way. A knot started forming in the pit of her stomach.
‘Your paper is on there, and all your notes.’
‘I know.’ Being reminded didn’t help. Tucking her foot underneath her, Elena tried to get more comfortable. She pushed the power button again and crossed her fingers. She winced when a notice popped up about booting up in safe mode. ‘This doesn’t look good.’
‘Can you fix it? When was the last time you backed everything up?’
A couple of weeks ago, maybe? ‘Too long.’
‘Oh, baby.’ There was a swish and then the background noise on her mother’s side quieted. She must have moved to another part of the bakery. ‘What’s it doing now?’
Elena scanned the screen. Her breath caught when it blipped. ‘The screen just went blank.’
The conversation fell into silence.
‘What are you going to do?’ Yvonne asked. ‘You’re stuck there. You can’t go out and get another. Those news vans are still outside your gate.’
‘I don’t know.’ Elena bit her lip. She wasn’t a computer tech. She was competent in using them, but the inner workings were beyond her.
‘Can you call in a repairman? See if he can rescue it? But … damn. Who could you call that would keep their mouth shut?’
She didn’t know, but …
There was someone else on the compound who had an above-average knowledge of computers.
‘I’m going to have to call A –’ Elena broke off, nearly biting her tongue. ‘An expert.’
Another long moment ticked by. ‘When you say an expert, you mean Alex Wolfe.’
Her mother wasn’t stupid, even if the leap was a short one. Somewhere near the phone, fingernails drummed. ‘So you’re talking with him now?’
Elena searched for the right answer. ‘It’s kind of hard not to.’
They were doing a lot more than talking, but she wasn’t about to get into that.
‘What was all that about it being a huge property and you’d never have to interact with him?’
She fidgeted, feeling herself being trapped in a corner. Her mother had a very long and precise memory. ‘Do you have any other ideas? Because I’m open to them.’
‘I don’t want you getting messed up with that man.’
Too late for that.
Elena pushed herself out of the chair. Raking back her hair, she tried to think. She just couldn’t come up with any other options, and that made her stomach turn the wrong way.
She might trust the man with her body, but her computer was another thing.
Yet she could lose everything if she didn’t do something.
Panic started pushing at the edges of her thoughts. Sitting down again, she tried to clear whatever bug was gumming up the works. It didn’t matter what she tried, though, the system wouldn’t behave.
She groaned. ‘I’m going to have to ask him to look at this.’
‘He’s a Wolfe, Elena. He’s the Wolfe.’
‘I understand that, but he …’ Elena nearly spoke up to defend him, but stopped herself just in time. One word like that and her mother would be on an airplane to come get her.
‘I don’t want to, but I need his help.’ The more she looked at the things happening on her computer, the more she wanted to cry.
‘Well, I suppose he owes you that much,’ her mother conceded. She let out a heart-wrenching sigh. ‘You be careful, baby. Don’t let those dreamy eyes and wide shoulders trick you. There’s a Wolfe under that sheep’s clothing.’
‘I know.’
‘A sexy one, but a dangerous one.’
‘I know!’ Her discomfort with the discussion wasn’t easing.
The drumming noise on the other end of the line became more punctuated. Her mother was not happy. ‘You call me back later to give me an update.’
‘I will. Bye.’ It was Elena’s turn to sigh when she hung up the phone.
She stared at the computer for another ten minutes. Nothing she did worked. By the time she turned to her phone again, the panic was pushing in on her. It took only two rings before she got a connection, but that was almost too long. ‘Alex,’ she said tentatively, ‘can you come down to the lake house?’
‘Elena? Is everything all right?’
Her anxiety had moved into her throat. She heard her words shaking, but as she looked around the room, all she could think of was the long nights she’d put into her studies. Now all of that was in danger of being lost. ‘It’s your turn to rescue me.’
She hung up and gathered her computer and its power cord and moved everything out into the living room. Closing the office door, she looked around for anything else she should put away.
The irony didn’t slip past her. She was hiding from him what he should have hidden from her.
The refrigerator hummed and the grandfather clock in the corner of the room ticked as she waited. She stared over the back of the sofa at her laptop. It currently displayed an hourglass of death. It might as well have been counting down her future, flipping it over and dumping it out.
She let out a hiss of air and went to wait by the door. With nervous hands she tucked her hair behind her ear. She wasn’t ready to face him yet. Last night and this morning had been too intense.
Yet she needed him. That brilliant, calculating mind …
Every tick of the clock pulled her nerves tighter as she watched the manor. The kitchen door finally opened and Alex appeared. He trotted down the hill, his long legs eating up the distance fast. She opened the door before he even knocked and waved him inside.
‘Are you OK? What is it?’
She swallowed hard. ‘My computer. Something is wrong.’
The stiffness left his face, but the relief lasted only a brief second. It was quickly replaced with serenity, but the expression looked forced. His eyes were too bright. Bright and alert.
Grabbing his hand, she dragged him over to the coffee table. ‘It’s had that hourglass for the last fifteen minutes.’
He stared at it for a moment longer than was comfortable. ‘You want me to look at your computer.’
She shifted uneasily. ‘Yes. Everything is on there – my notes, my bibliography, the first draft of my dissertation. Everything!’
‘Me,’ he emphasised.
Her hold turned vice-like on his warm hand. Well, no, but yes. He was the last person she wanted around her files, but he had the expertise she needed. ‘You seemed like a good choice. You are the CEO of a software company.’
She dropped her gaze. ‘And I am sleeping with you.’
He caught her chin and made her look at him. His gaze bored into hers, but the hard suspicion gave way to surprise and that seemed to unsettle him. He cleared his throat, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. He nodded grimly. ‘OK. I’ll see what I can do.’
‘Thank you.’ She wrung her hands as he took a place on the sofa.
‘What happened?’ he asked.
‘It’s been acting funny for a few days. Today, it just started closing down programs. Now it won’t boot up again. I just get that stupid hourglass.’
He nodded, his brow furrowing. ‘OK, let’s see if I can get to a command line.’
He rolled up his sleeves. She didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad one, but his fingers were confident as they moved over her keyboard.
She sat on the couch next to him, her legs folded underneath her. She didn’t know what she was going to do if he couldn’t fix whatever was wrong.
&
nbsp; He looked at her again, his grey gaze considering. After a moment, he reached out and squeezed her knee. ‘Breathe.’
Heat flowed from the contact, startling her but focusing her.
Breathe. Yes, she’d done enough yoga to know that her breaths were too shallow and her body was strung like a wire. There was nothing she could do but let go. She had to trust him in this.
Keeping her gaze locked with his, she inhaled deeply. Her lungs filled and she let the air out through her mouth. It wasn’t good, but it was a start.
‘Better.’ His expression turned contemplative, and he focused on her ailing machine.
Elena fought to keep her breaths even. His presence seemed bigger here in the tiny cottage. Almost overwhelming. The last she’d seen of him, they’d been cuddled up together on his bed. Naked.
‘I may be a bit rusty,’ he confessed.
‘Rusty? Why … oh.’
It was ironic, but there were times when she forgot how he’d spent his last years.
‘Sorry,’ she murmured.
Eighteen months wasn’t that long except in the software field – and most likely – prison. For him to admit that his skills were out of date, though … He was less cocky than he’d been before the trial and harder. Scarier, to be truthful.
And sexier. Her mother wasn’t blind.
She watched his muscled forearms and big hands as he worked, remembering how they’d felt on her body. Her belly squeezed, and heat settled between her legs. She tugged the nearby pillow onto her lap.
He wasn’t rusty with anything.
She hugged the pillow so hard the filling plumped out the corners. Sometimes she felt so naive around him. Forget the scandal. He was a world-renowned business innovator, while she was just a student. Then there was his wealth and the way other people treated him. When he was in a room, there was no doubt who was in charge. Nobody in her sphere came close to him, and sometimes she didn’t know how to act around him.
Other than when he kissed her.
They didn’t seem to have any problems relating then. Sensing her attention, he turned his head. His gaze settled on her lips, and they tingled. Got puffy.
Her body pulsed and her nipples stiffened. How did he do that? A word or a look and she was his.
Solace in Scandal Page 12
