by Various
She glowered at him. “Okay, let’s make this simple. Again, I am sorry that he punched you out of some misguided attempt to impress me. The man has an emotional maturity level of, like, three. Men. Jeez, Louise.” But she was getting offtrack again. She took a calming sip of champagne before she went on. “This really has nothing to do with him, okay? I need you to know, before one more second of my New Year ticks off, that we are not—”
“Enough!” he roared. “Tell me where he is! I called the cops. They’re on their way. Assault, battery, attempted murder—your boyfriend is going down, Susannah! No one makes a fool of Carter Lyons and lives to tell about it!”
No one except Carter Lyons, apparently. “You called the cops?” she repeated. “For a little scuffle at a New Year’s party? Like they don’t have enough to do with people shooting guns off at midnight and setting off illegal fireworks and potentially burning down half the city?”
“Where is he, Susannah?” he asked again, gritting his teeth so hard his whole jaw looked out of whack.
“I don’t know.” She scooted off the bar stool and slipped past Carter with all due haste. “But I’m going to find him and get him out of here before you get your grubby mitts on him.” She turned back. “I’m thinking of making him my boy-toy, you know. I don’t want you messing up his pretty face.”
Carter lunged, and she took off as fast as her red stilettos would carry her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SUSANNAH was at her wit’s end when she finally found Trey, standing alone on the balcony, staring off at the skyline. He said wistfully, “You can just see the Ferris wheel at Navy Pier if you twist your head and squint.”
It was freezing cold out here. Chicago in January was not a place to be standing on balconies. Below them, revelers were shrieking and screaming, and drivers were laying hard on their horns. Happy New Year, she thought to herself. Happy freakin’ New Year. Your life is a mess, you may end up losing your fiancé and your job and catching your death of cold in one fell swoop, and all because you chose to save the life of this insane man rather than think of your own well-being.
But she didn’t have time for self-righteousness. Quickly, she gave Trey her spiel. “Carter is on the rampage, and we need to get you out of here.”
“Yeah, right.” Trey stayed where he was.
“He’s looking for you. He’s really mad that you hit him.” She hugged herself, trying vainly to stay warm in her skimpy dress, as she ventured another step out onto the balcony. “Please, Trey. I know you can take him in a fight, but you’re on a balcony, and he could get lucky and knock you over or something. Plus he told me he called the police. So let’s go in, let’s find your coat and let me get you out of here.”
Trey edged around, propping his arms on the railing behind him. “Let you get me out of here? Does that mean we leave together? As in, you’ve changed your mind and decided to come with me?”
“To Paris? Or out of the building before you get arrested?” she asked in a dark tone. “Neither. Although I might come with you as far as the street if you’re lucky.” She felt like stamping her foot at how stubborn and ridiculous he was being. “Come on, Trey. Let me help you. You need to leave. Now.”
“Just curious, but why do you care?”
“Trey, listen to me,” she said carefully, slowly, trying to be persuasive. “He called the police. If you get arrested, you won’t be on your flight to Paris tomorrow, will you?”
“And this matters to you?”
“Well, if we get you safely on your plane, at least you’re not around here, driving me crazy and messing up my life, are you?” She started to shiver, and she rubbed her bare arms with her hands. “And if you come in off the balcony, I can go in, too, drink about ten Irish coffees and hopefully defrost from my current Popsicle state, which would be a real bonus.”
That declaration didn’t move him in the least. “How interesting. I can see the ring from here. So you haven’t broken the engagement yet, have you?”
“I tried,” she said softly. “He cut me off. He was more interested in telling me all the ways he wanted to pummel you.”
Trey’s heated gaze held her steady, almost enough to warm her up in the frigid air. He really did have the most beautiful blue eyes. “He wants to pummel me for kissing you?”
“Not hardly.” She let out a short, unpleasant laugh. “He wants to pummel you for punching him in the nose.”
“It was the jaw.”
“Right.” She hopped and jiggled a little, trying not to let her teeth chatter. She failed.
“Susannah, you’re not dressed for this. Go in, will you?” he ordered.
But she shook her head. “Not without you.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“WHY haven’t you given Carter back his ring yet?” he demanded. “Why are you still dragging your feet about this breakup?”
Susannah had about had it with men and their idiotic need to tell her what to do. “I can’t get the stupid ring off my finger, okay? Believe me, I have every intention of very calmly handing it over as soon as I get it off. Or if you want to go for it right now, maybe we can throw it over the balcony.” She held up her hand. “Maybe the cold will shrink my finger enough, you think?”
“Worth a try.”
“Not that it’s any of your business,” she snapped, “but I have come to some major conclusions about that man tonight, and one of them is that he doesn’t care or notice what I am or who I am or what I want. It’s all about Carter. He never even told me I looked nice tonight, do you believe it?” She spread her bare arms, ignoring the cold. “I know I’m a little wrecked by now, but when I first got here, I looked amazing.”
He smiled. “Yes, you did.” His gaze flickered over her, lingering on her breasts, and she knew her nipples were peaking in the cold. She tried to remember to breathe, but the chilled air couldn’t seem to make it to her lungs. Trey’s voice was rough and husky when he said, “You still do look amazing. And the fact that Carter didn’t notice? It makes me glad I punched him in the nose.”
She smiled back, crossing her arms, shivering again, and not from the cold. “It was the jaw.”
“And you’re still not dressed to be out here.” He crossed to her in about a second flat, pulling her into his arms, gathering her close and trying to wrap his jacket around her, sighing with frustration and annoyance as he held her and rested his head against her hair. “Susannah, you keep calling me nuts, but you know, I’m not the one running out on the balcony wearing nothing but a dress that’s so sheer you can see through it.”
“Will you come in now?” she asked through seriously chattering teeth. “Will you leave the party so I can know for sure you’re okay and Carter didn’t have you arrested?”
“No.” He shrugged out of his jacket, draped it over her shoulders and then slipped his hands inside it, one hand skimming the bare skin at the small of her back, where the red dress swooped so low, and the other sliding up in front, cupping her breast where her nipple, taut and rigid in the freezing air, pushed against the slippery silk.
She trembled, pressing into his hand, offering herself more fully to his fingers. The hand at her back dipped below the edge of her dress, tracing the line all the way down, dancing under the fabric, exploring the curves of her bottom.
“I guess you don’t wear white cotton undies,” he murmured, sliding his thumb under the delicate string of her thong panties, pulling the ribbon enough to make her flush with even more heat and desire.
Lord, this was incredible.
It was so cold, so unbearably cold, and yet she was melting from the inside out. She had never wanted a man as much as she wanted Trey, now.
“Come in with me,” she breathed, grazing his lips with hers. “Please?”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
BENDING closer, Trey covered her mouth completely, refusing at first to actually meet her lips or complete the kiss, just hovering there, driving her mad. But then he plunged in, branding her with his whole m
outh, his tongue swirling around hers, tasting her, warming her, his kiss slick and deep and delicious.
Far more intoxicating than any Irish coffee. “Come inside,” she said again, backing up, trying to tug him with her, unwilling to lose the connection between them for even a second.
“Where can we go to be alone?” he whispered, and she knew exactly what he was asking.
“There are bedrooms in the back,” she offered, feverishly running through the floor plan in her mind. “I give tours of this place. I know every nook and cranny. Like the butler’s pantry. No one knows about that. No one would bother us. Or we could go downstairs and get a key, to a room of our own.” Trying to keep a clear head and not be too undone by champagne and the nearness of Trey, she sent him a speculative, hopeful glance. “Or would getting a room take too long?”
Was she as crazy as Trey? Sensible Susannah Quincy ought to be the last person trying to find a quick lovers’ hideaway at the company New Year’s party. And yet it seemed so impossible to resist the idea of being alone with Trey.
“We can find something,” Trey murmured, pressing his lips into the slope of her neck, breathing into her ear, sparking terrible hunger and desire all over again. She trembled against him, but he pushed her back through the door, into the party, her hand still clasped in his, his jacket still over her shoulders.
“Be careful,” she reminded him, pitching her voice low and secretive. “The cops could be here by now, looking for you. Oh, God. Did you see Carter?” She tipped her head into his to hide both their faces. “He’s over by the grand piano. Do you think he saw us?”
Trey held her securely against him. “No. And I don’t think he called the cops, either. But I do see hotel security blocking the elevator. I guess we’re not leaving that way, are we?”
Susannah suppressed the need to giggle. Now was not the time for giggling. And yet it was kind of funny. Staid, responsible Susannah Quincy, ducking her head and trying not to look suspicious so she and her illicit lover could avoid the cops. What was the world coming to?
“If we skirt around the outside,” she whispered, “I think we can get into the back rooms that no one uses. We could, um …” She licked her lip. “We could hide out there for a while, till Carter gets tired of looking for us.”
“Hide out?” They both knew exactly what she meant, and it had nothing to do with hiding. It had to do with what they’d been practicing on the balcony, only with more steam and a lot less clothing. He gave her a quick kiss, and then navigated a stealthy path through the thickest parts of the crowd.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, they reached the fringe of the party. One more turn and they were all alone in the dark, quiet, empty part of the penthouse. Susannah released a pent-up breath, but her body still tingled with anticipation.
Pulling her past the butler’s pantry and the coat room, he propelled her instead into a beautiful little powder room. Safely inside, behind a locked door, Susannah let his jacket slip off her arms and walked straight into his arms. He quickly pushed her up against the sink, trapping her boldly with his body, and her eyes widened. Whoa. He was a man in a hurry. His fervor both frightened and excited her, and she reached for the front of his shirt.
But he grabbed her left hand, holding it up in the air between them. “Did you really think,” he growled, “that I would make love to you while you’re still wearing another man’s ring?”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“TREY, what are you doing?” she demanded, as he stuck her left hand under the gold faucet and turned on the water. It struck her again how stupid men could be. And so ridiculously territorial.
“I’m getting this ring off.” He interrupted his mission long enough to kiss her fiercely, framing her face with his wet hands, but then set back to work, soaping her finger, sliding the ring back and forth.
She could only look on in complete shock. She’d thought he was as turned on as she was, as desperate to find a place to be alone. But, no! It wasn’t her clothes he wanted to get off. It was her engagement ring!
“Got it!” he exclaimed in triumph, holding the diamond ring up under her eyes.
“Are you happy now?” Susannah balanced against the marble edge of the vanity, staring down at her naked finger. Her hand felt weird without the weight of Carter’s ring, and yet a part of her also felt relieved to be rid of it. Relieved, bereft, happy and sad, success and failure. All at the same time.
Trey hesitated. “What should I do with the ring?”
“I don’t care. Throw it in the wastebasket. Leave it on the sink.” She shoved away from the vanity, moving toward the door. “I think it’s worth a few bucks, so you could always stick it in your pocket now and sell it on eBay later. Maybe I was right in the first place, and you were only coming on to me to get to my jewelry.”
“Susannah, it’s yours,” he said awkwardly, pressing it into her hand. “Maybe you should give it back to Carter.” His voice dropped down into huskier range, and he settled his arms around her from behind, rubbing his jaw against the top of her head. “The way you look, the way you smell, the way you feel,” he whispered roughly, “I’m starting to feel sorry for the guy who’s losing you.”
She steeled herself, angry with him, unwilling to give in so easily. But his voice tickled her hair and ruffled her nerves, and the rock-hard feel of his embrace was so very welcome. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” she managed to say, reaching for the doorknob. “The two of us, sneaking off to …” She let her voice trail off, not quite sure she wanted to make it concrete by putting it into words.
Trey was not so reticent. “Sneaking off to make love?” he finished for her. He spun her around in his arms, so that she had to face him. His eyes searched hers. “You made it clear you won’t come to Paris with me.”
“Trey, I can’t—”
He laid a finger against her lips, stopping her words. “I know, I know. You have your reasons, and although you don’t believe me, I do respect that. I won’t push you again.”
“Thank you,” she said softly, not sure she respected her choices as much as he did, not sure she wanted the question closed so completely. What did that leave them? Was this his way of saying he would walk out of the party and out of her life as soon as the coast was clear?
“You’re welcome.” He smiled, dipping his head to touch her lips with his, so briefly and sweetly it took her breath away. “Susannah, we both know I’m leaving in the morning, so there can’t be a tomorrow for us.”
He crooked a finger under her chin, tipping her head up, staring right into her eyes with the full force of his seductive, electric blue eyes. “What do you say, Susannah? I know you won’t give me tomorrow, but will you give me tonight?”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
IN THE full flush of passion, Susannah had actually considered running away to an unoccupied bathroom on the far side of the penthouse and making mad, crazy love with Trey Jameson. Now, after he had literally dumped cold water on the idea—or at least on her ring finger, long enough to remove her engagement ring—she wasn’t so sure.
“I have to get back to the party,” she hedged, trying to back up far enough to reach the door handle, needing to be away from Trey and out of this intimate space.
“But I thought you wanted …”
To be alone. To make love. To give in to this incredible dizziness and desire. She’d thought so, too. Until sanity had returned. She gripped Carter’s ring inside her fist. She might not have a romantic future. But she had a small chance at keeping her career prospects on track.
“Somewhere out there,” she declared, “my ex-fiancé has hopefully gotten tired of looking for you and gone back to trailing around after Mr. Manley, one of the two presidents of the company. While Joan, my boss, has glommed on to the other one, Mr. Marceau. If I had a brain, that’s what I would be doing, as well. Looking out for my career and my future. I came after you instead. But you’re safe now.” She jiggled the knob behind her back, trying to work
the lock so she could escape gracefully. “And I can go back to what I should be doing. Without you.”
But his hand closed over hers. “Are you sure that’s really what you want? You’re free of Carter. Why not take your chance to be completely free, to gamble on something better than being a corporate drone?”
“Oh, no. Don’t start this again,” she said angrily, ducking under his arm and pacing in the small bathroom. “I already told you, I want to go places and be someone. What’s wrong with that? You said you respected my choice. Just because that isn’t your dream is no reason—”
“I don’t think that is what you want,” he argued.
“Trey, I’m sorry, but you don’t get to say what I want, okay?”
“But you’re the one who suggested—”
Suggested sneaking off for a romantic interlude that turned into hand-washing. Yeah. Delish. “I changed my mind,” she shot back.
Shaking her head, she slipped around him, now totally intent on leaving, as he reached out a hand to try to catch her shoulder. But all he caught was the thin beaded strap of her gown.
As she flashed past, he pulled the opposite direction. They both heard the “ping” of her strap breaking and the “zing” of tiny crystal beads flying every which way. She stumbled backward, he held on to the remains of her strap, and a hunk of fabric decided to go his way in this tug-of-war. A nasty rrrip sounded as the bodice of her thin silk dress slashed wide open.
Susannah gazed down in horror. Her breast was completely exposed. A fact that had not escaped Trey, whose eyes were absolutely glued to the spot.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
IN A moment, a mere second, everything had changed, as the mood in their small hideaway seemed to darken and shift. The air crackled with the reverberations of that ripping sound.
