Under the Millionaire's Influence

by Catherine Mann

  “All right,” she shouted after him. “I want to see R. C. Gorman’s art gallery.”

  Without breaking his pace, he held up his briefcase and continued toward the hangar. “Okay then. We’ll go to New Mexico.”

  God, but it had been a tough choice because she would have liked to simply enjoy viewing them all, and she knew if she asked David, he would make that happen. He had always wanted her to do nothing but follow him around the world. And she could see herself enjoying that for a year or even two before she needed home, routine, a normal life he would consider boring.

  But for today—or even the next couple of days, she would be the adventurous creature David always encouraged her to be.

  And then the possibilities washed over her.

  She’d just committed to going away for a weekend with David. Alone, to a hotel, where they would most certainly be doing more than “just talking.”

  Seven

  H e had Starr in the Learjet with Seth Jansen piloting them through the bright skies to New Mexico.

  Still half-certain he was in the middle of one of his dreams about Starr, David stretched his legs in front of him, watching her stare out the window at the clouds puffing past. The gentle hum of the twin engines afforded them a sense of privacy from Seth flying the craft while they sat in the back of the six-seater.

  Finally, he had her alone and away from those bloodsucking leeches she called relatives, thanks to the help of Claire. Her real relative, for that matter. The kind that counted, a person who had Starr’s best interest at heart.

  Just the two of them together to work through this off-the-charts attraction that had dogged them through a decade. He couldn’t put it off any longer.

  Still, questions from home rattled around inside his brain, drowning out the soft buzz of the airplane’s twin engines. If only he could figure out why in the hell her family had chosen now to show up. What did they want? Because the Ciminos always wanted something.

  At seventeen he’d found Starr bawling her eyes out two days into one of the Ciminos’ visits. She’d been terrified of what would disappear from Aunt Libby’s house when they left. She’d been afraid that maybe this time she would leave with them to protect those she loved.

  Like hell.

  Starr rolled her head along her seat to look from her window to him.

  “Thank you for planning this. I really haven’t gotten away from the restaurant…” She plowed her fingers through those amazing curls, her cheeks puffing with her exhale. “I don’t know how long. Probably since we officially opened Beachcombers’ doors two years ago.”

  “It’s hard work starting up your own business. You and your sisters have taken on a lot.” The clouds broke, revealing the long stretch of desert below. Not much longer and they would be landing.

  A smile tugged up her plump lips. “Aunt Libby left us an amazing legacy.”

  “That piece of land certainly is prime.” He’d been approached more times than he could count with buyers for his family’s house, but aside from the fact that he couldn’t evict his mother, something inside him hesitated to part with the home his family had occupied for over two hundred years.

  “I didn’t mean the realty or bricks. I meant the concept of home. This was the best way we could think of to keep it.” She waved aside the air in front of her. “That’s all beside the point. I was thanking you.”

  “You’re welcome.” For what, he wasn’t sure, not that he intended to admit it.

  Her smile returned. “This brings back memories.”

  “Of?” he prodded.

  “Senior prom. Except we’re in a plane rather than a limo.” She ran her hands over the leather armrests. “Everything’s nicer than what I’m used to.”

  “Is that okay?” He tried to gauge her reaction. He never knew what to expect with Starr. Of course that was part of her allure. He couldn’t help but think of that moment on the dock just a couple of days ago when they’d driven each other so crazy he’d nearly forgotten about everything around him.

  She scrunched her nose and sank into the luxury of her seat. “I’d be an ungrateful brat if I say no. Besides, only an idiot wants to deal with layovers, security screenings and delays.”

  “Hey, I like chili dogs better than caviar.” He covered her hand with his, his thumb rubbing along the inside of her wrist, as much seduction as he would allow himself for the moment. “It’s not always about the money for me.”

  Her eyebrows rose in apparent surprise. “I’m glad to hear you know that.”

  He shifted to meet her gaze dead-on, finding it strange they’d never talked about things like this before. But then they’d never had this stretch of time before and it wasn’t as if he could touch her the way he wanted while Seth piloted the plane a few feet away.

  “The money does give me the opportunity to live my life exactly the way I want, Coney dogs in Shea Stadium if I’m in the mood. And not just self-indulgent choices, either. I can make morality choices at work purely based on what I think is right, no concerns about playing politics to get ahead and make a higher pay grade. I’m lucky as hell and I know it.”

  “And yet you continue to advance anyway.”

  He stayed silent, savoring the soft skin of her wrist. No need to acknowledge the obvious in her statement.

  “This whole day is so surreal, just leaving everything behind.” She glanced up at their pilot with the headset on and leaned closer to David. “I appreciate your organizing it for me, but I’m not sure I can guarantee the day is going to end the way I believe you want it to.”

  She couldn’t be any plainer than that, and as much as he wanted her, he wasn’t into coercion. She’d been pressured enough in her lifetime as a kid.

  The trained investigator in him could see the residual impacts of her upbringing in her. The way she always expected someone to want something from her in exchange. Why hadn’t he noticed that before?

  Because he’d been too busy thinking with the other head, damn it. Something he needed to rectify now, even when the heat between them continued to flare.

  “This is a no-strings offer. We’re going to land, have a quick late lunch on our way to the gallery and then look at some artwork before supper. If after supper, you want to go straight to your room alone, that’s your call.” He meant it, no matter how much he wanted to be with her, it would be mutual or not at all. “We have enough history between us for you to know that I would never hold you to something unless you want the same thing.”

  She stared back into his eyes, holding for a long drone of the engines before finally nodding. “I trust you.”

  “Good. Good.”

  He was glad she did because staying strong against the temptation while sleeping in the room next to Starr would be total torture. All advances in the work world aside, he wasn’t so sure he’d made the wisest move in his personal life.

  Still questioning his own relationship IQ two hours after landing in New Mexico, David watched Starr’s face as she strolled slowly through the gallery.

  She wove around the sparse remaining tourists still hanging around in the final minutes before closing. He took note of even the slightest hesitation, searching for preferences of ceramics over silkscreens. Or paper casts over landscapes. She seemed taken in by all of it…studying the swirls and colors of each piece.

  Finally she paused by a ceramic plate with a silly-looking orange cat on it. Seemed a rather odd choice to him, but then art was in the eye of the beholder and all that. This was her gig. “Do you want it?”

  “No.” She blinked fast as if pulled from a trance and glanced back over her shoulder at him. “No! Don’t even go there, Agent Money Bags. Do not, under any circumstances, buy that for me. You’re going to make it impossible for me to enjoy this if I have to worry about admiring any other pieces of artwork for fear you’ll whip out your credit card.”

  “You could throw a ‘thanks anyway’ in there somewhere.” He felt compelled to add. He had just offered to chunk o
ut some serious cash for a tabby-cat plate.

  “Your ego doesn’t need it.” She turned her back to him and returned to studying the array of artwork on the walls and in display cabinets.

  “You’re right.” He closed the few feet between them until he was standing directly behind her. He kept his hands in his pockets even though he wanted to reach for her and pull her so she leaned back against him. He’d sworn there were no strings until she gave an indication otherwise and he was a man of his word. “Good thing I have you around to help me keep my ego in check.”

  “Yeah, well, since your ego’s been deflated for the day, I guess I can give you that thanks for the thought—although I only hesitated because it reminded me of a pet I had for two weeks once when I was eight.” She glanced over her shoulder at him; a whimsical smile lighting her brown eyes that shared the same color as her father, but none of the same sentiment, hers so sincere. “And thank you for the whole day. Seeing these in books is nothing like seeing them for real.”

  “There are two more artists on my short list. With just a simple call to your sister, we could extend the trip and see the works of both.” He edged closer, hands still in his pockets, not that it helped him any. He could feel the heat of her radiating through the scant few inches between them. Nothing overt that any of the three people remaining in the gallery would see, but God, he couldn’t miss it. “You should see the artists I put on my long list.”

  She licked her lips as if thirsty—heaven help them both if she kept that up much longer. “What about your mother’s health concerns?”

  “I’ve hired a nurse to stay at the house and keep watch over her. I couldn’t hang there 24/7, and I’m not a health-care professional anyway. A live-in seemed the best solution.”

  “But you check with the nurse, of course.”

  “Of course,” he repeated. He was a detail man and right now, nothing was more important to him than putting his situation with Starr to rest so he—and the Caravan gang—didn’t hurt her again.

  “What does the nurse have to say?” Starr’s attention shuffled to a series of landscapes with a woman and flowers.

  “You’re actually worried about my mother even after the way she’s treated you all these years?” All the more reason to make sure he read the signs correctly with Starr and treated her right. He flattened his hands over hers on the glass of the display case, so cool after the heat of the desert sun.

  “Yes, I worry about her. She’s your mother. If she’s deeply ill, I would hate to take you away from her bedside at a critical time, although, um, she looked healthy at brunch last week.”

  He had to agree that his mother seemed fine, which was a good thing. He suspected she’d wanted attention and things would settle down now. “Other than a slightly elevated blood pressure, she’s actually healthy as a horse. I suspect she just gets lonely sometimes and feels the need to call me home.”

  “It would help if you had siblings. I don’t know what I would do without my sisters to help me.” Her eyes took on a dreamy look as she stared at the desert landscape of a woman at the waterside.

  “They’re lucky to have you, too.” He finally let himself touch her again, just a hand on her shoulder, a simple, platonic-like squeeze. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

  “Thank you, and I don’t.”

  He kept his hand light on her shoulder, nothing sexual. Problem was his thoughts were anything but platonic. His imagination went into overdrive envisioning what he would do if they were alone in this position.

  First, he would flatten his hand to the wall by her head and wrap his arm around her waist, lifting her, pulling her against him. Just a simple adjustment of their bodies and he would be able to slide inside her. Somehow his thoughts created a tangible heat of a full-body press swelling between them until he could almost swear she felt it, too.

  Starr shuffled from foot to foot until she made it back to her cat plate again.

  David kept his hand on her shoulder through the move. “So do you like that piece because it reminds you of your old pet?”

  “Yes.” Her answer slid from her lips a bit breathier than before. She paused, cleared her throat and continued, “I like it so much I want to leave it right here for other people to enjoy, too.”

  He gripped both her biceps and turned her around to face him, hands still cupping her upper arms. “Damn, you’re good.”

  She swayed toward him, pupils widening in her dark eyes with a deep desire he absolutely couldn’t misread. “And you’re so very bad.”

  “Which is what makes us so incredible together.”

  “Ah, David,” she whispered, his name drawn out on a sigh, a plea he’d heard often enough in the past to know what she wanted. “I thought I told you I couldn’t promise this would end with us in bed.”

  She startled as a college-aged man walked by pushing a broom. The place was closing and time was nearing to head to the hotel for the night. If they actually made it to the hotel…

  Thank goodness he’d made a plan for them to have a romantic getaway, just in case she changed her mind about the no-sex rule. It seemed his preparations would be implemented in mind-blowing, fulfilling detail very soon.

  But first, he planned to draw out the pleasure with a tantalizing wait.

  David dipped his head, his mouth near her ear. “I know what you said and I agreed things would only be mutual. And I would bet every last one of my training instincts that what I’m feeling right now is very mutual and you’ve decided it’s fruitless to resist.”

  Eight

  “D rive faster,” Starr urged from her passenger seat in the Mercedes convertible rental, car top down.

  Where had David made their hotel reservations? The next state over?

  “You want me to speed up? No can do, babe. I’m already pegged on the limit and that whole law-enforcement official thing obligates me to follow the rules of the road.”

  He kept a steady pace with cruise control. The car lights beamed ahead, luminescent strips on the asphalt the only glow on the deserted back highway.

  Again he delayed fulfilling her need for him, which left her fidgeting in her seat as she had all through dinner. The wind spirited into the neck of his polo shirt just the way her hands longed to do.

  They’d been driving for at least forty-five minutes since they’d left the five-star restaurant he’d chosen for their supper. He’d even selected an establishment much like Beachcombers so she could gather work ideas about food—although he’d surprised her when he’d told her they wouldn’t be staying there for the night.

  Not that she’d been able to think about work or even sleeping. All she’d been able to contemplate during the interminable meal was getting him alone and naked.

  Still, he’d drawn out the pleasure, making each bite an aphrodisiac moment. He’d been seductive from the start in everything he’d chosen in this outing. This man in full-tilt charmer mode was irresistible.

  She tore her gaze away from him. Her eyes took in the endless stretch of rocky desert on either side of the highway. Nothing but telephone poles, scattered cacti and the occasional Joshua tree, the dry air so different from the humid beach climate she’d come to love at Aunt Libby’s.

  The gritty wind tore at her hair with a wild abandon that fit the moment, tugging at the scarf he’d brought along to tie back her curls. Eventually she whipped the silky length free and let the wind have its way with her locks much the way she’d given over control of this evening to David.

  He obviously had somewhere out of the way in mind, which meant a long time for them to simmer in the car. Might as well make the best use of this time. She had memories to store.

  She slid her hand across the seat, teasing up the length of his thigh, enjoying the heat and ripple of muscle under the rough texture of khaki. “And there’s nothing I could do to entice you to take a shortcut?”

  Grinning, she squeezed his leg, high, just shy of his fly.

  David clamped a hand around her wri
st. “Much more of that and we’ll end up in a ditch.”

  He had a point. She sagged back against her seat, resolved to wait.

  Except then he turned off the road.

  “David? Where’s the hotel?” She didn’t see any signs of civilization even on the horizon.

  “Who said anything about a hotel yet?”

  The smile returned to her lips and swirled around inside her, as well. No more waiting, and she did so approve of his plan. She’d always enjoyed the times they’d made love outside as opposed to times they’d sneaked around in his room or hers. Outside seemed so much more neutral. Not her world or his.

  He shut off the engine then turned the key to keep the music going, low classical tunes to suit the romance of the moment. Reaching behind the seat, he tugged free an Aztec blanket that would undoubtedly ward off the chill of the desert night because yes, yes, yes she could see in his eyes that soon they would be shedding at least some of their clothes.

  She hooked her finger in the neck of his shirt. “How about you come over here so we don’t have to deal with the steering wheel.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He cupped her waist and hefted her up, sliding into her seat as he settled her onto his lap.

  David tugged the blanket around her, tenting it over their shoulders, their bodies already starting a furnace of heat inside. The dashboard lights shone along with the full yellow moon to cast shadows over his square jaw clenched in restraint as a lonely coyote howled in the distance. The breadth of his shoulders alone stole the air from her lungs, and yet this strong man had set her onto his lap with such gentle ease, held her now in such careful, seductive hands.

  What a rush.

  Her starving hands tugged his polo shirt free of his pants, whipping it over his head and onto the steering wheel.

  He chuckled low. “I’ve always liked how you know what you want.”

  “You taught me to take what I need.”