Millionaire in Disguise (Special Edition, 1416)

by Brashear, Jean

  Certainly nothing else about her was predictable.

  She was an odd combination of tomboy and temptress. Gamine. Beautiful. Huge green eyes filled with laughter. Short, tousled auburn hair. Lush, full lips that made a man want to drop to his knees and beg.

  They rounded a corner, turned in past a mailbox and her place came into view.

  Nikos hadn’t been struck dumb in a long time, but this was one for the books. A dome. A geodesic dome.

  Where else for a tomboy with a courtesan’s mouth who got more excited over an engine than most women got over a diamond the size of an egg?

  Moving down the driveway, he looked around. She had flowers everywhere, a brilliant rainbow of blossoms. In the middle of a glade off to the side, she’d set a birdbath. Hummingbird feeders dotted the trees in several spots, and a windsock flew above the dome.

  He peered more closely, squinting in the last rays of the sun, trying to see the design.

  A Jolly Roger. The woman was too much.

  A crack of laughter worked its way out of his throat, and he realized that he’d laughed more this day than he had in a year. Then he sobered, thinking about just how much was at stake, how little business he had taking this detour. He had a company to save, and he’d only left the office to take a drive so he could think.

  He should back out of her driveway right now. Head back to the office, get back on his laptop, rack his brains for an answer to the threat to his business.

  But the thought sucked all the glow out of an evening made unexpectedly bright by a slender fairy with a streak of grease on her cheek.

  The rap on his window jerked him out of his thoughts. He rolled down the window.

  Her hands slipped into her back pockets and a wisp of uncertainty entered her gaze. “Want to look around?”

  He could see that she expected him to say no. Despite her cheer, he’d seen glimpses of vulnerability every time they ventured outside car talk. That decided him.

  “Is the inside as colorful as the outside?” He stepped out of the pickup.

  “See for yourself.” She tucked one hand in his elbow, her eyes once again sparkling with mischief, and pulled him inside. “By the way, your car needs just a little more tuning. Want me to take a stab?”

  He was about to respond to her cheerful insult when she turned on the lights and speech failed him.

  His eyes roamed the—room, he guessed one would call it. The dome basically comprised one big space, with areas cleverly divided by furniture arrangements. Only one section had a ceiling, the rest had just the huge circular skin of the dome, painted sky-blue and dotted with clouds. As the darkness fell, he could see tiny white lights glimmering up above.

  His gaze caught on the bed, set in an alcove resembling nothing so much as a seraglio. There ought to be a harem somewhere nearby, and eunuchs to guard the doorways. A free-standing frame surrounded the bed with silk draped to form sides and a lofty, shimmering canopy. The midnight-blue draperies were caught at the footposts by deep green braided cords, and the satin coverlet bore a paisley pattern in burgundy, deep green and midnight-blue with gold accents.

  The gamine mechanic had a sensual streak that befit her lush mouth. This place was seductive, almost decadent. He could easily picture her slender white limbs against dark satin sheets, and it was not a big leap to imagine himself in that bed with her. Not for the first time since they had met, his body tightened in response to her.

  He cleared his throat. “Did you build it?”

  “No, it was a foreclosure that I got really cheap. I guess nobody else could see its potential.”

  He tore his gaze away from that sultan’s bed. “It is…open.”

  She laughed. “You have no idea how much until you try to get warm in the winter. Good thing Central Texas doesn’t have much cold weather. Sixteen-foot ceilings make a lot of space to heat. The warmth all goes up to the top.”

  She gestured toward the only part of the dome with actual walls. “You can wash up in there. I’ll use the kitchen sink.”

  He complied, grateful to escape and quit thinking about that bed.

  He stepped inside the most sybaritic bathroom he’d ever seen and as he strode toward the sink, he could only shake his head in admiration.

  A huge whirlpool tub sat in one corner. His gaze wandered over the room, the only one in the dome with a ceiling, formed by an angular span connecting the side walls to the curved wall of the dome. Someone had painted an intricate mural on the ceiling in rich blues, greens and reds with figures that seemed vaguely mythological.

  A long skylight arced overhead through the mural, bringing light into a room lush with greenery and mirrors. The gleaming ivory-tile floor made a superb foil for the cobalt-blue tub, easily large enough for two.

  For two. He looked at the tub and the mirrors surrounding it, imagining all the candles that lined the edge, lit and glowing. The skylight would let in the moonglow… He let his mind free to imagine Lexie reflected from every angle in the myriad mirrors, her skin luminous in the candlelight. Those enormous green eyes fastened on him, those berry-wine lips slightly parted…

  Nikos swore silently and turned off the water, then dried his hands. He’d taken a drive to shake out the cobwebs, but the drive had succeeded too well. He was far too intrigued by the mysteries of this woman.

  Then he glanced into the mirror and saw her behind him. Slowly he turned and crossed to the door.

  For one heart-stopping instant he thought he saw the same temptation in her eyes. She went very still, her lips slightly parted. Then she gnawed lightly at that full lower lip. Nikos lowered his head, knowing he had to taste her. Now.

  “Mrrowwwww—” Something brushed against his ankle. They both jumped. Quickly, Lexie stepped back from him. Nikos looked down.

  A solid gray cat stared at him, blinking.

  Lexie’s voice wasn’t quite steady as she reached down and picked up the animal. “My cat, Rosebud. She’s a Russian blue. That’s why she sounds so cranky—she’s part Siamese, with that awful yowl they have,” she prattled, turning away toward the kitchen.

  “I should go,” he said.

  She turned back to him, holding the cat tightly to her chest, her gaze a mixture of relief and disappointment. “I haven’t fixed your tea yet.”

  He should go. But he didn’t want to. What did she want? Who was she, anyway? They’d talked cars nonstop for two hours, and he’d thought he’d had a bead on her without ever knowing anything personal about her.

  But that was before he’d seen the sultan’s bed. The colors. The lush, seductive fabrics.

  That tub.

  She was a mystery, a series of contradictions. Dressed as she was in ancient denim cutoffs and a skinny red-and-white-striped top, she could have passed for a teenager, a slender sylph whose short, feathered cap of auburn hair perfectly matched the trail of freckles across her delicate nose. A tomboy, he’d pegged her.

  But in those eyes was both the knowledge of a woman and the nerves of a girl. He found himself wanting to dig a lot deeper, never mind the other claims on his time.

  And she made him laugh. Lightened his heart, made him see a world outside his business, his sister, the unseen enemy who endangered all he’d slaved to build.

  Just a glass of iced tea. That was all she offered, not knowing that her mere presence offered so much more.

  “All right.” He nodded. “May I help?”

  She’d done more than fix tea. She’d made him a monster sandwich, then offered a big slab of pie. He’d eaten as if he hadn’t had food in a week. They carried a second glass of tea outside to her screened-in back porch. Lexie fought a laugh when he saw her swinging bed, a mattress on a platform hanging from four sturdy chains hooked to the overhead beams. He was so serious, so contained, yet within him was a man who responded strongly to joy. Who needed a lot more of it in his life, she thought.

  He turned, cocking an eyebrow, and smiled. “You are full of surprises.”

  That accent�
�his voice slid low, finding its way to an untouched place inside her.

  She held out her hand for his glass. “Go ahead—try it.”

  His expression was part caution, part kid-outside-the-candy-store-window.

  “Go on—a pirate like you doesn’t get seasick, do you?”

  Startled, he glanced back. “A pirate?”

  Lexie felt a blush working its way up her chest and neck, over her cheeks. Her and her big mouth. “You, uh—I thought when I first saw you—” She didn’t try to finish.

  He threw back his head and laughed, the laughter rising through his strong, tanned throat.

  Lacey wanted to press her mouth against that throat, wanted to slide her hands over the hard muscles beneath that soft white cotton T-shirt. Wanted to pull it from his jeans and—

  Good grief. What was she thinking? She didn’t do this, ever. She wouldn’t know how to seduce a man if she tried. A few unsatisfactory experiences in college had convinced her of that. Her so-called fiancé had sealed it. Anyway, her father had taught her the big lesson years ago. Men could just up and leave anytime, no matter how much you loved them. So Lexie stuck to making friends of men. Only friends. It kept life simple.

  But this man…nothing was simple about him. He had gone utterly still, watching her. And in those dark eyes was something that pulled at her, a devastating mixture of loneliness…and desire.

  “Would you walk the plank if I ordered it?” His voice was rough. Husky.

  She licked her bottom lip, then gnawed at the corner. This man devoured girls like her for breakfast. “I’d be afraid not to,” she answered.

  He stepped closer, his gaze intense. “I do not want you afraid of me, Lexie.”

  How could she be afraid when his voice turned velvety and caressing? “What is it you want, then?” She barely recognized her own voice.

  He closed the gap, taking her glass from nerveless hands and setting it and his on a small round table. “A pirate makes his way by stealing, does he not?” One hand lifted, fingers stroking her cheek, then brushing her lower lip with his thumb.

  “A kiss, Lexie. I want to steal a kiss.”

  He didn’t have to steal. She couldn’t deny it to him, not if her life depended upon it. Right now, she wanted that kiss more than she wanted to breathe. It didn’t seem to matter what she knew about men or what she’d done before.

  This man was different. Something in him called to something in her, and she was rapidly forgetting all that she’d been sure was true. She didn’t care. If he didn’t kiss her, something precious would slip through her fingers. It didn’t matter how she knew that.

  She just knew.

  As his warm hand closed gently against the side of her throat, his thumb sliding softly across her jaw, Lexie met the dark, mysterious gaze and lifted to her tiptoes, unwilling to wait.

  Artlessly, she touched her lips to his, and Nikos thought he would lose it right then and there. There was an innocence in her kiss that undid him, that reached down inside his scarred soul and made him want to believe.

  When she placed a slender hand over his heart, he felt her gentleness steal down his veins, warming him from head to toe.

  And suddenly Nikos wanted to stand in the sunlight of this entrancing woman’s joy. Wanted to reach out to her, to find out what he could do that could possibly repay her for the glow she had cast on his day.

  He could almost believe in magic, standing here in Lexie’s ethereal kingdom. It could not be real—she could not be real. Women were not like this, so free and guileless, wanting only him, not what he had.

  Then Lexie whimpered and Nikos forgot all that he thought he knew. All that mattered right now was getting closer, not letting her go.

  He wrapped her in his arms, slanting his mouth over hers, fighting the hunger that was growing by leaps and bounds, surging past his control. Thoughts of anything but the sweet, warm woman in his arms fled in its wake.

  Lexie didn’t know what was happening, what to call this firestorm sweeping through her veins. All she knew was that she’d never felt this way in her life. She had to get closer, had to breach the boundaries of skin that separated him from her. She slid her fingers down his sides, reveling in the difference between them. His chest was deep, his body hard, everything about him intense. Where she was soft and fluid, he was rock. He was shelter. Since she was eight years old and thought safety was natural, she had not felt this kind of strength in a man, never thought she would again.

  Lexie twisted her fingers into the soft cotton and pulled. She heard his muttered gasp at the same time she felt the heat of his skin, the ridges of muscle. Lexie dug in her fingers and heard him whisper.

  “Open for me,” he ordered. His knee slid between her thighs and lightning heat sparked through her body as his hands pressed her mound against his leg.

  Desire shot through her. Lexie’s knees went weak. Before she could recover, he had swept her up into his arms and laid her on the bed, which began to swing.

  “Will it hold us both?” His voice was rough, low, his eyes burning dark coals.

  She couldn’t look away. Couldn’t breathe. “Yes.”

  He leaned down and gave her another searing kiss, this one with very little gentleness. That was all right. Somehow, for the first time in her life, there was no gentleness in her. All she could feel was just this endless need, this heat and hunger that roared like a brushfire through her brain. Lexie pulled at his shoulders and he tumbled to the bed, his hard body covering hers.

  “Tell me you want this,” he growled, his hot mouth suckling at her throat. “I can stop, but please…if you do not want me, tell me now.”

  She wanted him. Oh, did she want him, as she’d never wanted anything before. But a little shred of sanity stilled the fingers caught in his wavy dark hair.

  “Nikos,” she whispered. “What is this?”

  He lifted his head, his eyes dark, burning deep. “I do not know. I’ve never felt like this before.”

  “I don’t—” She swallowed. “I don’t do this. I don’t know what—”

  “Nor I,” he admitted, pulling slightly away. “It makes no sense.” She saw the loneliness returning. “I should go.”

  Lexie knew it was up to her now. He would stop. He would leave if she asked.

  And she had a deep, unshakable sense that they would both regret it forever.

  “Do you believe in magic, Nikos?” She summoned a faint smile, her heart pounding to hear his answer.

  Nikos looked down at her, saw the nerves. She expected him to laugh, to walk away. Which he should.

  But if he left now, something precious would slip from his grasp. It might be an illusion, probably was. But tonight, it felt real.

  “I would have said no, until I saw this place. Until I met you.” He smiled back. “Now I am not so sure.”

  She lifted one slender hand to his face, and he wanted to believe.

  “One night of magic,” she whispered. “It’s more than most people have.”

  To his surprise, she didn’t ask for promises. Instead she kissed him.

  And then logic didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was need…and hunger…and longing for something he didn’t know how to name. Something he had to have, beyond all reason, all sense, all the careful order of his world.

  Her untutored caresses, her surprised delight in his touch, all of them told him that what happened in these moments would matter long after tonight. Finally, Nikos knew how he would show her what her glow meant. He would bring a lifetime of experience to the task of making love to this woman as she’d never been loved before.

  He set about his task with the determination of every other venture of his life, with careful planning, with measured control—and in only moments, Lexie had swept them all away as a child clears a table of blocks.

  It was new, all of it, with this woman. As if he had never made love in his life, though he had hardly been a monk. He felt curiously innocent as Lexie explored his body, stripping h
is heart of its world-weary grime as she stripped away his clothes. She discovered his body as though it were a Christmas present, unwrapping him with a child’s abandon, free with her delight.

  And she gave her body with the same abandon. As he peeled away her clothes, pausing to kiss and caress, Lexie sighed. She whimpered. She smiled and moaned. Her eyes teased and sparkled, then darkened with a desire that ran as deep as his own.

  And sweet. Oh, she tasted so sweet. Like peaches left to ripen on the tree. Her breasts plumped under his touch, her nipples exquisitely responsive to his tongue. When he moved down and lifted her to his mouth, her hands tightened in his hair so hard he yelped. They laughed, and he never remembered laughing during lovemaking, not ever before. And then he didn’t laugh anymore, intent upon driving her insane before he was.

  Nikos looked at her, black eyes burning with passion, as if daring her to care. Lexie didn’t care. She leaned forward to capture that demon lover mouth of his. She nipped his lower lip as a lioness would bite her lover when mating. Mating…primeval…basic… Lexie had never felt so much like a woman in her life. As she swirled her tongue over his lips, she felt his fingers work their magic at her center. She nearly screamed, bucking against his hand.

  “So hot…so sweet,” Nikos growled. “You make me crazy.”

  She couldn’t talk for the fever that gripped her. Soaring, soaring…when he laid his mouth upon her again, she fell back on her elbows, panting slightly with the sheer rapture of the waves rolling over her. The tracing of his hot tongue into the tender petals licked at her senses like darts of flame. He teased her with light nips and long, slow swirls. The thick silk of his hair brushing the insides of her thighs in slow, unexpected moments…the touch of his hands rolling her nipples gently, then closing with urgency about her breasts—all played counterpoint to the warm satin of his mouth, pulling her to a fever pitch. When she felt his tongue dart within her, she moaned as her conscious mind disintegrated into wave after wave of dark ecstasy, electricity surging through every nerve ending, burning her alive.