The full riveting pleasure of him made my hips push off the quilt for more. Landon dropped his head into the crook of my neck, his hot breath tickling my hair as he tried to control himself. I didn't want his control, his poise. I wrapped my legs around his waist and heard his breath break.
Landon pressed into me, the rhythm coming faster as the stars above us shattered. His muscles flexed into stone beneath my gripping fingers as he cried out, his pleasure muffled against my damp skin. His throbbing head hit me in all of the right spots, bringing my body to complete heaven.
When my vision cleared, the stars seemed very close. For a moment, I couldn't tell the difference between the bright candle flames and the sparkling starlight. We could have been floating high above the bluff and out over the ocean.
After a few minutes of quiet breathing and cuddling, Landon pulled on his clothes and I straightened my dress.
I attempted to stand, but my legs were almost too weak, giving way. I grabbed onto Landon’s strong shoulders to steady myself and gave him a small smile.
Steadying myself I asked, "Shouldn't we clean up?"
He shook his head as he lifted me in his arms and headed back toward the house. Beads of sweat still dampened his forehead. "Just grab the champagne."
"You know you're going to have to draw me a map," I joked as he led me through the cavernous house to his master suite. We went through a large sitting room, a smaller parlor, and into his bedroom. "I won't even be able to find the door to the hallway."
"I know it's too much." His shoulders tightened.
"No," I whispered and patted the massive four-poster bed next to me. He sat and I rubbed my hand across those wide shoulders. "We didn't care about where we were earlier —why should we now?"
Landon's lips curled and the look he gave me was a bright match to my sudden flame. We fell into the massive bed and let our passion ignite again.
Chapter Seventeen
Landon
Waking up in the high-ceilinged master suite never felt right. As a young boy, I had spent more years than necessary in the nursery because it had felt like the only normal sized room in the house.
Palace, I corrected myself. I lived in an echoing, sprawling palace while everyone else got to live in homes.
It was always a warring emotion. Golden Bluff was home and I loved it. Riley was right, though —I never enjoyed it myself. I was always too busy thinking about other people's opinions, and Golden Bluff elicited strong opinions.
Riley. As soon as I thought her name, my eyes flew open. Her hair was the color of dark clover honey but even the weak morning sunlight caught strands of bright gold. I hitched up on one elbow to marvel at her asleep in my bed.
Her wide, rose petal lips were parted slightly and curved in a smile as she felt me move next to her. I froze in place. I didn't want to wake her from such a peaceful sleep. As soon as her eyes opened and saw the ornate crown moldings and the gold leaf detailed wallpaper, her expression would change.
She snuffled gently in her sleep and I swallowed a laugh. Riley was a constant surprise. Most surprising of all was how she managed to both express her awe and be at ease all at the same time. I had never brought a woman to Golden Bluff who had acted natural or felt anywhere close to comfortable. And here Riley was, lightly snoring in my bed.
Everyone liked the glamour of Golden Bluff, but the reality of living here drove them away. Even my best friend, Andrew, got twitchy after an afternoon on the grounds, and we always opted for a beer at his place, not mine. Riley had lasted longer than anyone.
Her eyes opened. The morning sunlight caught them and added to her luminous smile.
"Good morning," she mumbled, brushing her hair off her forehead. "Is that a cherubim smiling at me from the ceiling?"
My chest started to feel tight again. "Yeah, the ceilings are a bit much."
Riley shrugged and stretched. "You have a four poster bed. If the high ceilings bother you, why don't you just put on a canopy?"
I flopped back down next to her and laughed. "Why have I never thought of that?"
"The real question is why aren't you thinking about coffee?" Riley groaned and sat up. A wicked grin curved her lips. "Don't get me wrong, I feel great, but you have been bragging about your breakfast skills."
I jumped out of bed and grinned at her girlish shriek. I enjoyed the feel of Riley's gaze on me as I went into the master bathroom. Seconds later, I returned with a silk robe for her.
She sat up in my bed, clutching the sheet, and she eyed the robe. "One for every woman who stays here?"
"I've never brought another woman to this room," I said.
Riley's eyes softened. "Sorry. You're not your playboy image and I know that. It's just hard to be confident while sitting naked in your bed." She tugged on the deep blue silk robe.
I couldn't tear my gaze from her and envied every inch of that silk. "Your confidence was very much appreciated last night."
Her blush sent a surge of heat through my body. I quickly tugged on my boxers and a pair of pants. Then I searched all over for my phone.
"You tossed it in the grass last night," Riley reminded me. "I remember thinking it was a pretty hot move."
"Was it my only hot move?" I asked.
Riley laughed and shook her head. "Definitely not, but I appreciated it."
I crawled back across the four-poster bed to kiss her. Her skin had warmed the royal blue silk and I wanted to feel it, and her, against me.
She pushed me back gently, acting shy in the now bright sunshine. "I bet your business manager is freaking out because she can't reach you on your phone."
"Oh god," I laughed. "Lyla must be losing her mind. I swear she gets up at the crack of dawn just to start leaving voicemails."
Riley pointed to an antique phone next to the bed. "Does this thing work?"
"It's worth a shot." I picked up the heavy, curved earpiece and was surprised to hear my housekeeper's cheerful voice.
"Don't worry, Mr. Landon, your phone was found. Breakfast is on its way."
"Thank you, but I'd like to change my usual order —"
The housekeeper gave a happy sigh as if I was the slow one. "It's taken care of, dear. Felipe should be at your door now."
The housekeeper hung up on me. As I stared at the phone there was a knock on the door.
"Enter," Riley called, and then clapped both hands over her mouth. "Is that what you say? Sorry, I just had to try it."
Felipe entered with his eyes discreetly on the floor but an obvious grin on his face. He parked the linen-covered cart near the French doors that led to my private balcony. There a wide, round table was already set for breakfast. How had I not noticed it was set for two last night?
"Will there be anything else, sir?"
"No, thank you, Felipe. Now you have no excuse but to go study," I said.
He gave me an irreverent salute and slipped out the door again.
“Study?” Riley asked.
"He's getting an online English degree. He’s a very talented poet," I explained.
Riley slipped off the bed and padded barefoot to the table. "He brought your phone," she said. "Ooh, and roses!"
"Roses? I never get roses. Just coffee, eggs, and bacon."
She plucked the silver lids off the plates. "Well, there's eggs and bacon but also muffins and fruit salad. Wow."
"Wow is right," I said, joining her. "It appears my staff knew you'd be here in the morning before I did."
Riley choked on a bite of muffin, then laughed. "You were happy about that yourself a minute ago."
I kissed her cheek and sat down next to her. "I am, but it's just gotta be weird for you knowing the staff is gossiping about us."
She nudged the French press and two coffee mugs toward me. "I live in a college town, Landon. I can handle a little gossip. Besides, it's not like they sent up anchovies and nightshade." She inhaled the scent of roses. "I think they might be happy I'm here."
I caught her hand and kiss
ed the back of it. "Me, too."
"Good, now pour the coffee because I have no idea what to do with that." She laughed.
I took the French press and pushed down the plunger. When the grounds settled, I poured us two fresh cups of coffee. Riley lounged in the reproduction Louis XVI chair and nibbled on cantaloupe. The blue silk robe slipped on her creamy shoulder and a torrent of desire flowed through me.
My fingers slipped along the curve of the table and tugged at her sleeve. Riley grabbed the opening neck of the robe and blinked wide eyes at me. I leaned in and captured her embarrassed smile with my lips, transforming it into a kiss. She tasted twice as sweet as last night.
"How about you join me in the shower," I murmured against her lips. "It feels like standing in warm, tropical rain."
She tugged the silk robe closed and looked at the streaming sunlight. "Now? Don't you have work to do?"
Riley’s modesty turned my desire warm and soft all over. A blush covered her cheeks and her brown eyes were wide. I couldn't resist one more long, deep kiss to see if I could help her shed that prim fear. Her lips had just parted on an encouraging hum when my phone buzzed.
"Lyla?" Riley asked.
"Yes," I sighed. "She has a long list of unnecessary things she thinks must be done right away." I tossed the phone back onto the cart and covered it with a silver lid. "How about we head out to see the vineyard?"
Riley eyed the now-buzzing tray and grinned. "Where's the vineyard?"
I pointed out the picturesque sweep over my balcony. "Up and over the bluff. We planted three terraces of vines down a sheltered hill. It's a pretty long hike unless —wait, can you ride a horse?"
Riley held out her coffee cup. "Pour me another and I'll think about it."
I happily obliged. "We have ATVs too, if you'd rather ride on those."
"You have a stable somewhere up here?" she asked over the rim over her coffee cup.
I nodded. "We keep six horses. The bluffs and canyon can be rough going and sometimes the horses are the only way the grounds manager can get where he needs to be."
"I love horses," Riley said and set to work finishing her breakfast.
* * * * *
She laughed when she saw me in blue jeans. "Sorry," she giggled. "They're just so stiff and brand new."
She looked irresistible as her perfectly worn jeans clung to her curves. She'd topped her outfit with a bright white tank top and a coral cardigan. It took all my willpower to let her walk out my bedroom door.
"I guess Lyla had the staff toss my old ones," I grumbled as I followed Riley out. She got lost at the first intersection and stared open-mouthed at the long art gallery. "This way," I said, taking her hand.
She was quiet as we walked and that quiet worried me. Was she thinking my life was too much? Too much pressure, too much bother, too far outside the normal?
"Where did the vines come from?" she asked.
I let out a sigh of relief. Maybe she wasn’t thinking this palace was too much at all —maybe she’d just been thinking about grape vines.
We started down the grand staircase. "Hmm, the vines. I know it was a big deal for my great-grandfather to get them. He struck a deal with a Hungarian Count, if you can believe it. The best cuttings from France, Germany, and Spain."
"Count Haraszthy," Riley said. "He's a legend in California winemaking. Too bad you can't be more specific. We've been studying the origins of prized wines in class."
"See?" I asked, stopping on the first landing. "This is something I should know. In all of Lyla's big pushes to make us more of a business, we've lost sight of what's really unique about Golden Bluff. All the history here is just getting buried under stock options and conglomerates."
Riley came back up a step to squeeze my hand. "I'm sure someone around here knows where you can find out about the vines. With this level of viticulture, there are probably records."
"You're right," I said, moving downstairs at a faster pace. “There’s all kinds of paperwork about the estate and the vineyards.”
Riley's eyes lit up. "Is it too geeky to admit I'd love to see the records? I could probably dig up the origins and figure out just exactly what you've got."
I chuckled. "You'd certainly blow the socks off our grounds manager. Quick detour, and I’ll show you the archives." I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the servants’ hall underneath the stairs.
Riley clattered ahead of me on the narrower stairs. "What is this place?"
At the bottom of the stairs was a short hallway. Windows peeked into two side-by-side offices while doors opened on a small dining hall and two workrooms. Sunlight filtered through dusty windows into a large room at the end of the hall.
"These are the old butler and housekeeper offices, the servants’ dining hall, and kitchens. My parents left them locked up and Lyla's first thought was to gut them. They're an important part of the historic architecture of the house, so I refused. In my spare time, I've been sorting out the logs and files kept in the offices." I led Riley to the kitchen where everything was spread out along the massive old counters and wood-hewn table.
"You have spare time?" Riley asked with a raised eyebrow.
I laughed. "Yeah, I know, but I love this kind of thing. The cooks kept meticulous lists, including every menu they ever made. I think it's amazing. They even listed which farms provided the produce."
"I bet Golden Bluff kept a lot of local farmers and ranchers very happy." She walked around the counters and started flipping through files. "It's a whole history of the local economy all wrapped up in one family's home."
I pushed my hands in my pockets. "I'd love to use all of this and create an exhibit showing how close of a relationship Golden Bluff had with the surrounding areas."
"Symbiosis," Riley smiled. "Oh, wait, this might be something!" She tugged out an old, leather-bound logbook. A yellowed slip of paper still held a faint pen mark that read 'zinfandel’.
Riley gestured for me to read over her shoulder, but I couldn't move. The view of her caught in a dusty sunbeam, pouring over the old records with just as much joy as I felt, was something I was afraid to disrupt. Without any effort or explanation, Riley understood how much all the dusty files and folders meant to me. She knew that more than all the splendor in the grand rooms above, this to me was the real heart of Golden Bluff. All the ties to the local farmers, fishermen, ranchers, were important to me. I wanted to know the name of every servant that ever worked in the palace because they were the ones that had made it into a home.
"What in god's name? Landon! What are you doing down here? Put that down. Who let you down here?" Lyla's shocked orders exploded from the doorway.
"Lyla?” I said. “I thought you were gone for the day. Didn't you send me half a dozen emails about a meeting in San Francisco?"
She crossed her arms and gave me a cool look. "The helicopter will take off in ten minutes. Are you coming with me?"
Riley gently folded the leather-bound logbook closed and put it back. Her sunny smile was gone and her face was pale in the dusty light. She wrapped her cardigan tighter around her chest.
I looked from Riley to my fire-breathing cousin. Lyla was overbearing and imposing, but I had never seen Riley turn so quiet. "Lyla, you might remember meeting Riley Cullen. Riley, this is my cousin and business manager, Lyla," I said.
Riley stepped forward, but Lyla's perfectly plucked eyebrows flew up with a sharp huff.
"Why would I remember her?” Lyla asked. “Isn't it enough that I find the two of you down here about to do god knows what?"
I scowled. For some reason, Lyla was hell bent on pretending she had no idea who Riley was, and that fact pissed me off.
"What are you doing down here, Lyla? If I find out that you tracked my phone again, I swear to god, I will smash this thing in two." I shook my phone at her and noticed the half dozen texts on the screen —all from Lyla. "Why are you all the way down here?"
Lyla eyed Riley again. "I wanted to make sure you weren't bein
g conned out of any valuable antiques. You do tend to give your playmates little presents that you later regret."
I caught my cousin’s arm in a vise-like grip and hauled her out of the old kitchen, back toward the servants’ staircase. "You are a nasty, snobby piece of work, Lyla. What is your problem?" With Herculean effort, I let go of her arm before I started shaking her like I wanted to. "What makes you think it's okay to insult my guest?"
She narrowed her eyes at me. "Whatever low-class girls you decide to date is your business. You've made that abundantly clear," she hissed. "But what responsibilities you shirk is my business."
I crossed my arms over my chest. "Like what?"
"Congressman Albert has been asking for you to join him at golf for two weeks now. The Sandersons are wondering if you lost the invitation to their dinner party. And you were supposed to be at a gala luncheon in San Francisco yesterday."
"Do you even hear yourself?" I clawed both hands through my hair. "Those are all social engagements, ones that are perfectly acceptable to decline. I am not ruining any business relationships by choosing to do something else with my weekend. It's the weekend, Lyla. People understand that not everyone works twenty-four hours a day, every single day of the year."
"You need to do better than that," Lyla snapped.
Riley chose that moment to appear at the edge of the kitchen door and clear her throat. "How about I head upstairs and give you some privacy?" she asked.
"Don't you have any dignity?" Lyla lashed out at Riley. "Look at you panting around after him. It's disgusting."
"Excuse me?" Riley gaped.
"Your little plan is obvious. It's always obvious. You're not the first slut who's tried to worm her way into Landon's life," Lyla said.
"You mean like you did?" Riley snapped.
As much as I wanted to find out what would happen with the two women circling each other like wolves, I grabbed Lyla's hand and pulled her up the servants’ stairs to the first landing.
Torn_An Alpha Billionaire Romance Page 42
