by Adrianne Lee
“No. With Fred down you’ll have to take over the shipping department. First thing I need you to do is order more boxes, then get those two trucks and their cargo delivered to the warehouse and unloaded.”
“Done, dude.” Stewy’s eyes lit up, and for once Mac didn’t have to ask him twice. He hurried for the phone.
With Tia at his side Mac strode to the open bay. “Suzanne! Gwen! Will! Nancy!”
The department heads glanced up, caught his gesturing hand and hastened into the loading dock. Suzanne surveyed the smoke damage, wrinkling her tiny nose in disgust. “I overheard one of the firefighters saying if we’d had a sprinkler system in this building, it would have prevented the smoke damage.”
Mac swore under his breath. “Yeah, and that would have caused unnecessary water damage throughout the rest of the building and shut us down.” He bit back his temper, a task that grew more difficult with each passing minute. “Suzanne, your work area will be back up and in operation by clockin time tomorrow morning. I realize it’s only one o’clock, but send your people home for the day. You go, too. See you at the party tonight.”
“You’re going ahead with the party?” Gwen shook her head, her tawny hair shifting like a pile of silk over her shoulders. “After Fred…?”
Mac turned fierce eyes on Gwen. “Yes, dammit. There’s been too much tragedy.”
Gwen stiffened as though he’d struck her.
Nancy sniffed. She looked more like a raccoon than ever with her tear-smudged eye makeup. But she seemed calmer. “Grant’s right. I, for one, would like to celebrate being alive.”
“I second that,” Will piped up.
Gwen shot him an annoyed glance.
“Oh, really, Gwennie, you think Fred would be missing this party if he had a choice?” Will’s hand rested on his hip.
“No,” she conceded. “I suppose not.”
“I think the party is just what we all need.” Suzanne added her vote. “My staff will appreciate it. And I’m going to tell them now.”
As she headed off, Gwen stepped close to “Grant” and flicked his tie intimately. “Save me a dance, tiger.”
She gave Tia a look of triumph. “Before I lock up and take off for the day, I’ll arrange delivery of new sterile suits.”
Gwen sauntered toward the loading dock like a woman expecting to be watched. The tips of Mac’s ears warmed. He didn’t want to dance with Gwen Or anyone else. Except, perhaps, Tia. Trouble was, he’d never learned how. Not one step. He supposed his only out was to insist Grant suffered the same social failing. His palms dampened. Would Gwen call him on the lie?
He glanced at Tia. She was staring after Gwen, looking as though she’d like to strangle his vice president. Her emerald eyes burned with something dark. Mac blinked, recognizing the look: jealousy. God, was he nuts? Did he actually have a chance with Tia? Were her recent responses to him as deep as they’d felt? The possibility boosted his spirits, and he determined to find out before the day was done.
“I don’t suppose my office will lock itself.” Will started for the elevator. “Coming, Nan?”
“Yes.” She smiled at Grant and Tia, but the flirting manner she’d exuded the past two days was missing. Mac was grateful.
The sounds of car engines began rending the quiet as the workers left for the day.
Tia moved closer to Mac. “Are you sure it’s wise to spend the evening at a party?”
“Yes. Since Buddy and the daytime guard will both be attending, I’d already ordered extra security for tonight.”
Tia released a deep breath. “Good.”
She gestured at the blackened walls and ceilings, at the conveyor belt heavy with soot and water. “What about this mess?”
His eyes followed hers. And anger pricked his throat. All of his business life, he’d set his mind to something and accomplished it with hard work and imagination. Until now he’d never had to fight for what he wanted. It had come easily. Too easily? No, not everything.
His gut clenched. In many ways he’d let life happen to him. Why? Why had he accepted second to Grant’s first? Why had he stood by and watched his brother steal the woman he loved without so much as a single word of protest?
Never again. Life was through rolling over Mac Coy. He caught Tia’s arm possessively. “There are companies who specialize in this type of cleanup. Let’s go call one.”
Chapter Fourteen
It was three o’clock when Mac and Tia arrived at his house. They’d stopped at her apartment long enough for her to gather her clothes for this evening. She’d assured him she would be fine at home alone, that he could pick her up later, but she’d abandoned all protest the moment he’d objected.
That had given him a heady sense of power. Taking charge felt great. Fed his confidence.
She’d been quiet on the drive here, staring at her engagement ring, and he wondered what weighed so heavily on her mind. Was she worried about Fred? The fire? Or was this about losing Grant, first to Gwen, then to a murderer?
He parked near the front of the house. But before he could get out of the car, she touched his arm. “I have to tell you something.”
“Sure. Anything.” He tried to relax, but every cell in his body seemed taut.
She twisted the ring on her finger, her expression bleak, as though she thought herself despicable. She lifted her head and her gaze met his. “The day Grant died, I was going to break off our engagement.”
Mac whistled with surprise. “I’ll be damned. Why? Because you suspected he was seeing Gwen?”
“No.” She shoved her hair behind her ear. “Well, actually I had felt him withdrawing from me, but that had little to do with my decision. I guess you’ll think I’m awful, but Grant swept me off my feet. I was in love with the idea of being in love. It only began dawning on me the past six weeks or so that I wasn’t in love with Grant. And a woman should be in love with the man she intends to marry.”
Mac gazed deeply into her eyes. There was no mistaking the love in them now. The love and the fear. He didn’t know how he knew, but that fear was one of impending rejection. Did she really think he didn’t love her in return? Was paradise actually within his grasp? His for the taking?
Hope surged through him. Hope and a tinge of disloyalty. But why should he still feel disloyal to Grant? Grant had obviously, also, been planning to break up with Tia. He’d fallen for Gwen.
Mac stroked a finger down her cheek. Pulled her to him and kissed her delicious mouth. The kiss felt fresh and new, as though barriers were lowering, as though releasing something pure and honest and rare.
A minute later he pulled back, breathless, happy as he’d never been before. “We’ll catch cold if we sit out here necking.”
“Then let’s go inside and neck.” She laughed and scrambled out of the car.
A package rested against the door. This one was not a gaily decorated gift from Santa, but rather a large box from the department store where Grant bought most of his clothes. Mac’s new suit.
Tia picked up the box. “Let’s hope it fits.”
“How about a preview?” He unlocked the door. “You show me yours and I’ll show you mine.”
“Why not?”
Twenty minutes later she watched him descend the stairs from his bedroom. Her heart tripped with love. The realization startled her. No. She mustn’t love him. But it was too late. She knew it. Knew it in the way his gaze rolled over her, the way his look, so smoldering and slow, stoked her blood, made her feel as if his fingers were feathering her flesh.
All knowledge of her secret melted like sugar at a simmering heat. She smoothed the new green silk sheath she’d picked up in Taiwan over her hips. Her tongue slipped across her lips.
As he moved closer, she felt herself being drawn to him. He grinned at her. “You approve?”
Oh, yes, her heart answered, dissolving into a puddle of want. Oh, no, her head objected, trying to wade through the liquid heat condensing good intentions, solid resolution to a million be
ads of need “You look very handsome.”
The words came out breathy and warm. He stared at her mouth, and she wanted the kiss he offered. Wanted that, and so much more. He strode toward her. She moved to meet him, unable to resist his lure, knowing she should listen to her reservations, but no longer sure what they were.
Absurdly she noticed his tie was off center. Smiling, she reached for it. Plucked the knot loose. Holding both ends, she tugged him toward her, taking the kiss. He mustn’t doubt what she wanted from him. If he pulled back this time, said he couldn’t do it…then what?
Would she finally be able to walk away from him, release this unspoken bond between them? Would she ever?
He dragged her into his arms and pressed his body the length of hers, answering the question of his physical need for her. She moaned against his mouth, and he deepened the kiss with more boldness than he’d ever shown. Heat blew through her, scattering the ashes of her resistance, swirling them into oblivion.
Mac straightened and leaned back. His eyes were dark with ardor, his voice husky, his gaze tender. “I don’t just want you, Tia. I love you. I’ve loved you for a whole year. I should have told you earlier. But I didn’t think I had a chance. Especially after Grant came into the picture.”
He’d loved her before she met Grant? Tia’s heart sang. Just as quickly her throat constricted. Poor Mac. He thought Grant was lucky to have won her. He didn’t know fate had stepped in and protected his best interests. If he knew the truth about her, would he feel the same?
She had to know. Now.
“I need you, Tia.” He traced her bottom lip with his forefinger. “I need you so.”
“Oh, Mac.” Her pulse fluttered, her insides quivering with fear. “I need you, too. But I have to tell you something else about me.”
He leaned into her. “I don’t care what it is.”
“But I love you so much I have to tell you—”
“You love me?” He cut her off. The awe in his voice was as thick as rich cream. He let out a joyous yelp, lifted her off her feet and swung her in a small circle.
She tried telling him again, “Mac, I—”
His mouth found hers again and swallowed her confession, drowning it in her body’s lava-hot response to this man, the only man whose kiss could addle her best intentions, her good senses.
Mac swept her up, carried her to his room and lowered her to her feet. He cupped her head gently in both hands as though it were an antique Christmas ornament. Love shone from his turquoise eyes, arrowing straight into that desolate corner of her heart and uncurling the cruel edges, smoothing them into something silken and desired, something she’d craved since childhood.
But the passion she felt for this man had awakened in her woman’s body.
She reached for his jacket and skimmed it off his broad shoulders. Next she tossed the tie aside, then began loosening the buttons of his shirt, feeling as though she was loosening the restraints on the love she’d kept pent-up inside, hidden from all, including herself.
She whisked the shirt down his strong arms, the warmth of his skin delicious against her fingertips. Her flesh felt alive, tingling with anticipation. She gazed at his naked chest, mesmerized by its broad expanse, by the dense hair that grew thick between his nipples and trailed down his flat stomach to disappear into his slacks. She couldn’t resist touching it, tracing her finger over the hard planes of his belly, until she reached the button that was the last obstacle between her and the treasure of his love.
Mac looked nervous, anxious. He’d made no attempt to undress her. Why? As quickly as she wondered, she recalled his confession: “I…I haven’t had…er, any experience with the fair sex.” The tenderness she’d felt for him at that admission flooded her anew. She caressed his cheek and gazed at him reassuringly, then took his hand and guided it to the zipper at the back of her sheath.
He swallowed hard, but began tugging the closure open, his hand jittery against every inch of naked flesh he exposed. She brought his hands to her shoulders and together they pushed the fabric aside. She felt the expensive silk pool at her feet. She kicked the dress away.
Mac’s gaze began to smolder as he took in her lacy green underwear. She murmured, “The bra unhooks in front.”
Mac felt the blood in his groin thumping. The old fear threatened to destroy the moment. He fought to hold off his release. He didn’t want to rush. Didn’t want to do anything but please this woman who was giving so completely of herself, giving him such pleasure.
But he had no way of knowing whether or not he could return the favor. In truth he didn’t even know how. Would she show him—as she was showing him the secret of unfastening her bra? His pulse skidded and leaped. The lacy green fabric parted at his touch and fell away, revealing her ripe, full breasts. His blood sang in his ears and his gaze riveted on the beauty of her. Need throbbed through him.
“It’s okay. You can touch me. Taste me.”
Mac stiffened, fear keeping his hands curled at his sides.
When he didn’t move, she stepped toward him until her hard nipples grazed his chest. He groaned in delicious agony. Her finger slipped inside his slacks. He felt the button give, then the zipper, then she was shoving his slacks and shorts down his legs.
Mac thought he’d explode for sure now. He reached for Tia, kissed her until their tongues danced as one. She pulled back, breathless. As he watched she peeled off her panties, then lay on his bed and beckoned him to join her. “Touch me, Mac. Make me yours in every way.”
Oh, yes, that was what he wanted, what he’d dreamed of for a whole year. But as he climbed onto the bed, he felt his control slipping. His need was too powerful. Too long denied. The tips of his ears burned. Led by the passion he could no longer rein in, he moved, instead of beside her, between her legs.
As he plunged into her, he found her moist and taut. The deeper he thrust, the more her body accommodated him, welcomed him, drove him more wild for release. She raised her hips to meet his thrusts. All three of them. Then he climaxed with such speed and force he cried her name aloud.
Mac couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t bear the disappointment he would see in her beloved eyes. He caught his breath and began easing out of her. His mind scrambled for the proper apology. But he couldn’t get the words out of his spasm-choked throat.
He felt Tia’s hands on his buttocks. Holding him in place. Effectively stopping his embarrassed retreat. “No,” she whispered close to his ear. “Not yet.”
He looked at her then. She was smiling, not laughing at him, but beaming like a woman enjoying the moment.
In that instant he felt himself growing hard again. He moaned quietly. He kissed her swollen lips, delved into her sweet mouth. She gave as good as she got, and soon he was thrusting again, slow, deep plunges, she was hot and tight and damp. There was no hurrying. No fear. She shivered beneath him, again and again and again, murmuring his name. Her body contracted around him and deepened his rapture, exciting him higher than he’d thought possible. When the climax came this time, he felt lifted from his old restraints, his old fears, onto a new plane, into a new realm. “Oh, Tia…Tia…Tia!”
He collapsed against her, spent and sated, and grinning like a small child with a new toy. The comparison widened his smile. He stayed joined with her until his breath slowed. Regrettably that came too soon. He rolled off her onto his side, then cradled her in his arms.
When he awoke he found her gazing at him with joy. Her fingers were curled in the hair on his chest He beamed at her and crooked her hair behind her ear. “How do I love thee…”
His need stirred with life, growing hard against her naked thigh. She sighed and reached for him. Mischief danced in her emerald eyes. “Let me show you the ways…”
MAC SEEMED to have gained a new confidence in handling the Porsche. He hummed contentedly as he drove the dark, wet roads toward Maple Valley.
Tia pulled her gaze from his beloved profile. She snuggled into the seat, still feeling as though she
was wrapped in his arms, feeling whole for the first time in her life. So this was what it meant to be in love, to be loved. She smiled. The huge hole in her heart had healed bit by bit with every touch of Mac’s fingers, with every kiss, with every whispered endearment. She hadn’t known making love would be so different from having sex. Hadn’t believed her soul and heart could find such fulfillment.
She still reeled with bliss. Mac’s innocence and eagerness were heady, made her want him even now. Made her wonder if making love with him every day for the rest of her life would ever be enough.
“It’s a little hard to shift gears,” Mac said, cutting into her dark musings.
“Oh? I thought you were getting better at it.”
“Huh?”
“You’re driving is much smoother.”
Mac laughed. “I wasn’t talking about the car. I meant shifting my mind from us to the subjects of murder and espionage.”
“Ah, yes, the party.” She sighed. Once again she wished they could ask Grant how to proceed next. What exactly they should look for that would give their nemesis away. “Do you have a plan?”
“I—” His cell phone rang. Mac answered, using Grant’s name. He listened, speaking intermittently, the passing streetlights shining on his somber expression. “I see. I see. His heart? How serious? Yes. Well, that’s good news, right?”
He told the caller he could be reached at this number if need be and hung up. He smiled at her. “That was the hospital. Fred is regaining consciousness.”
“You mentioned his heart—what’s going on?”
“Apparently he had a heart attack like Stewy feared. They suspect he hit his head when he collapsed. He has a concussion and his lungs suffered some smoke inhalation. The prognosis is cautious but optimistic.” Mac’s relief sounded tempered. “The trouble is, boxes don’t just start on fire by themselves. The police will question Fred in the morning. Then they’ll come to the plant.”
A SMALL CHEER rang through the banquet room at Wilderness Golf and Country Club when Mac told his employees Fred’s condition was improving and the prognosis looked good.
