She sucked in her breath, her very soul quaking. One tiny little touch, exquisite in its deliberate goal. She caught her hands in his thick chestnut hair and tugged, blindly pressing her lips to his. Mindlessly fitting her soft curves against him.
She opened her mouth to him, pushed her hands beneath the sides of his shirt and reveled in the feel of hard bunching muscle sprinkled with intriguing swirls of hair. But even that wasn’t enough, and she tugged the fine fabric off his shoulders. He released her long enough to yank his arms out of the rolled-up sleeves. Emma trembled wildly, sinking her teeth into her lower lip as their frenzy was suspended for a taut moment.
Kyle closed his hands over her shoulders. Slowly drew them along the sides of her breasts. Down her rib cage. Her hips. She opened her mouth for breath. “Don’t ever stop,” she whispered.
A muscle worked in his jaw. Then he put his hands high on her thighs and pulled her tightly against him. Her head fell weakly forward to his shoulder and she sank helplessly against him as convulsions swept through her with lightning speed.
“Ah, sweetness,” he breathed against her forehead, his hands on her hips guiding, urging.
Holding her safe when she finally stopped quaking and could only cling to him, heart racing, eyes burning.
His fingers threaded through her hair, and he looked into her face. “You’re beautiful,” he said softly, thumbing away a tear from her cheek. “I’ve never wanted a woman more than I want you right now.”
She simply had no words. She pressed her lips to his. And held on, when he pushed them both from the couch and carried her into his bedroom.
He settled her in the middle of the bed, and Emma drank in the sight of him, standing there so masculine. So sure. He was more than beautiful, she thought faintly. She knew a man could be handsome on the outside and empty on the inside. But Kyle wasn’t like that.
He was determined and responsible and, despite the marriage charade they were playing, honorable to the core.
She pushed up on one arm and reached for him. But he caught her hands and shook his head. “I don’t have anything with me,” he said evenly.
She blinked. Then realized. Her mouth rounded in a silent Oh.
He smiled slightly. “Your disappointment flatters me.” He let go of her hand and sat on the bed, leaning over to yank off his boots and socks. Then he stretched out beside her, sliding away her panties in one sure stroke. She stilled his hands. “Kyle, I want to, but…but we can’t.”
His smile was slow, decidedly wicked and filled with promise. “There’re dozens of ways, Emma,” he reminded her.
Emma’s heart seemed to stutter. He smoothed his palms along her thighs. “Mercy,” she said.
He chuckled softly and drew his fingertips enticingly along her knees, parting them ever so sweetly. “Did I ever tell you that I’ve got a thing for your knees?”
Emma couldn’t answer to save her soul. She was too busy climbing to the stars.
Chapter Fourteen
“Stop fidgeting.”
“I’m not.” Emma let her hands fall to her sides to prove it. But not two seconds passed before she touched the locket at her throat to make sure she’d fastened the necklace correctly.
Kyle shut the car door and caught her hand in his. “You are.”
She sighed and shifted on the sidewalk. “I don’t want to mess this up for you,” she admitted. They were two minutes away from entering the Cummingses’ home. In Kyle’s hand was the photo album, delivered by courier to his place that very morning.
Jake had done his job well. The photographs showed a beautiful wedding, a beautiful setting, laughing, smiling guests and a bride and groom who appeared to be totally in love.
In Emma’s case that last was all too true.
“Are you sure Baxter doesn’t mind keeping Chandler for us while we’re gone?”
Kyle lifted a brow. “Emma.”
She shrugged, knowing how ridiculous the question had been. She couldn’t help it. She was as nervous as a cat. “I’m not a good actress,” she reminded him.
“Relax. You’re not going to be put on a witness stand. Look at all the cars lining the street here. There’s probably two dozen people in that house.”
Emma nodded. “I know that. I just…well, sugar, you’re tense, too.” His hands were tight on the thick album and a muscle jumped in his jaw. She could handle her own nervousness. But knowing that Kyle wasn’t entirely certain about the evening completely unnerved her. “We should have come up with some excuse to cancel.”
“There’s no time to cancel,” he said. “The final contracts to acquire CCS are ready. Cummings just needs to sign on the dotted line.”
Emma shouldn’t have been surprised. It was the whole point of this make-believe marriage. But the dagger-sharp pang of dismay she felt at the news was all too real. Once the deal was done, her presence in Kyle’s life would no longer be necessary. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “You must be happy about that.”
“Yes.”
He didn’t look happy. He looked…tense. There was simply no other word for it.
“Is there any chance that Mr. Cummings might back out?”
“There’s always a chance. It’s unlikely, though.”
“And after the dotted line is signed, then what?”
“Then I’ll have everything I want,” he murmured.
Emma looked down at her hands. Of course. Kyle had never made any bones about the priorities in his life. And ChandlerAIR was the number-one priority. She took a breath and let it out, turning to face the Cummingses’ pillared house. “Baxter told me he’d been married,” she said as they started walking toward it. “Back when he was a mechanic.”
“So you asked him about that.”
“This morning.” She stared blindly at the neatly groomed shrubbery lining the walk. “He says he put his career before his wife, and when she left him, he took it badly. Started drinking too much. Nearly caused a terrible plane accident because of it.”
“He never drank again, never worked on a plane again and never forgave himself for losing his wife and the family he’d wanted to have with her,” Kyle finished.
“So he made you his family, instead,” Emma said. “He thinks you’re making the same mistakes he did.”
“It would be nice if Bax would keep his opinions to himself once in a while.”
Their feet halted at the foot of the wide steps leading up to the wide door. She looked at him. “I think the situations are completely different.”
“You do.”
“Yes. Although I agree with him that you work much too hard.”
“Better this young man working hard than me,” a voice greeted from the top of the stairs.
Emma swallowed nervously and looked up at the open doorway. An older man stood there, tall and distinguished-looking. Kyle settled his hand at the small of her back and they went up the stairs.
“Payton,” Kyle greeted blandly. “This is Emma.”
The man’s eyes crinkled with his smile. “You’re as lovely as I expected,” he said gallantly. “Helen and I are delighted you and Kyle can join us this evening.”
Emma started to relax. The older man was simply too gracious not to respond to. “Thank you for having us,” she said, glancing at Kyle as Payton ushered them into the spacious home. He was smiling, too, but it didn’t come close to reaching his eyes.
Kyle realized Emma was looking at him in concern. He deliberately relaxed his shoulders and smiled. But he knew she wasn’t fooled.
Fortunately, however, Helen Cummings joined them and the rounds of introductions began. The older woman eventually slipped her arm through Emma’s as if they were old friends and happily spied the photo album Kyle held. The women wandered away, leaving Kyle with Payton and several of the older man’s golfing buddies.
Kyle responded with half his attention while they discussed the merits of various golf courses. He noticed that Payton’s stepdaughter was also there. Winter m
ade a beeline for Emma and her mother, who was smiling as she pored over the pictures.
Kyle nearly went over to rescue Emma. But when Winter left the group after a few minutes, her expression sulky, he realized that his lovely Emma needed no rescuing. Not this time.
He pushed one hand into his pocket and watched Emma. She wore a red dress that ended just above her exquisite knees. The square neckline and crisp linen followed her lovely figure closely, but was by no means tawdry. She looked impossibly beautiful and utterly confident.
“Makes a man proud to have such a lovely wife.”
Kyle realized that everyone but Payton had scattered. “Yes.”
“Helen told me she ran into you at the Buttonwood Baby Clinic. She’s impressed with your devotion to your family. You know I like that in a man.”
Inside his pocket Kyle’s hand curled into a fist. “Yes.”
The older man studied him for a long moment, his hazel eyes thoughtful. “We will meet tomorrow,” he finally said. “Get this paperwork signed and done with. I’ve spent all my life making Cummings Courier Service what it is today.” He looked over at Winter, who was pouring herself a drink at the marble bar in the corner of the elegant living room. “I wish I’d had sons to pass it on to, but since I haven’t, I’m glad to be handing CCS over to you. To a person who’ll respect my life’s work.”
Kyle’s gut churned. But his smile was smooth as butter. He looked the older man right in the eye, inwardly cursing everything that Payton Cummings was. Including the company that would soon be his to do with as he saw fit.
“Darling, dinner is ready in the dining room,” Helen said as she glided toward them, Emma in tow.
Kyle slid his arm around Emma’s shoulders and smiled blandly as they followed the older couple into the dining room, where all the guests were chatting and laughing and finding seats at the long elegant table.
He and Emma were placed at one end, right beside Payton, who was at the head. Now that the moment was here, Kyle wasn’t sure he could actually stomach so much as a bite. But hidden by the white damask tablecloth, Emma’s hand covered his, and Kyle managed to get through the interminable meal without revealing how much he hated the man who sat at the head of the table.
“Kyle. What’s wrong?”
Kyle didn’t look up from the grease he was wiping from his fingers. When they’d arrived home from their evening with Payton and Helen Cummings, he’d been grateful that Emma had been immediately busy with Chandler. He’d changed clothes and headed out to the garage and the Lightning, assuming that Emma would simply go to bed, seeing how late it was.
Instead, she stood in the doorway, looking at him with concern and determination in her eyes.
“Just keyed up,” he said truthfully.
She eyed him skeptically. Then she padded down the concrete steps and crossed the barn of a garage, ducking under the wing of the partially restored plane.
“You should have on shoes,” Kyle muttered, seeing her bare feet.
“It’s perfectly clean,” she countered. “I think a person could eat off the concrete in here. Does Baxter wash it down weekly? Oh, my goodness, you do own a pair of jeans.”
Kyle smiled faintly. “Don’t have a heart attack.”
“Sugar, I just might. You look real fine in those blue jeans. I think you ought to go for this look more often. Greasy white T-shirt. Very old blue jeans. You could give the cover of Colorado Business Weekly a whole new look.”
Kyle shook his head and tossed down the rag he’d been using. He nudged Emma back toward the door. “You should be sleeping.”
“So should you.” She wrapped her arms around her waist and her yellow nightgown drifted around her toes. “Tomorrow’s the big day. Dotted-line day.”
“Yes.” She wasn’t leaving, so Kyle took her hand and pulled her out the door and across the moonlit flagstone walk toward the house. The night was clear and warm and utterly silent.
“I guess I should start packing, then.”
He stopped. “What?”
She pulled her hand from his and tucked her glossy hair behind her ear. “Once your business deal is done, you won’t have need for a wife anymore.”
“You’re in a rush, then, to get back to your little apartment?”
Her lips parted. Compressed. “I…well…that was the agreement, wasn’t it?”
He couldn’t deny it. “I think you should stay for a while longer,” he said. “Just in case.”
Her eyebrows rose. “In case of what?”
“Who knows?” He pushed his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching for her. Their night together in Denver had been exquisite torture. But here, in his house, he knew he would not have the absolute concrete reason to keep their lovemaking from reaching its full conclusion. Not with the box of condoms Baxter had mockingly placed in his nightstand drawer. “There’s no need for you to rush back to your apartment,” he said. “You’re comfortable here, aren’t you? Consider it a vacation of sorts. Or an act of mercy. Because you know that Bax will be brokenhearted when you leave.”
“Baxter,” she murmured so softly he barely heard. Her shoulders moved in a great sigh, then she looked up at him. Her hair slid over her moon-gilded shoulders and her eyes glistened like dark pools. “I’ll think about it.”
He nodded. He wasn’t comfortable at all with the knots in his stomach at the notion of her leaving. But knew that as soon as the deal was done, as soon as his long-sought goal was achieved, his knots would ease. He turned and walked into the kitchen, flipping on the overhead light and holding open the door for her to precede him.
“I liked Helen and Payton,” she said as she passed him. “They’re very genuine, I think. I feel badly about our pretense.”
“You always did,” he said. “From the get-go you didn’t like the deception.”
She leaned back against the butcher block in the center of the room, her hands curled around the thick edge on either side of her. “Yet you felt it was necessary.” She eyed him. “Why is that, Kyle? I know all your explanations already. But it just doesn’t fit somehow.”
“You’re imagining things.” He prowled over to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer.
“Am I?” Her gaze followed him. “Do you know that you didn’t smile once this evening?”
“Yes, I did.”
She shook her head. “Not really. Your mouth moved certainly. But when you smile, Kyle, really smile, your eyes show it, too.” She pushed away from the island and walked over to him. She lifted her hand and smoothed her fingertip along his temple. “It shows here,” she murmured. “You were not happy to be there. I was nervous about making some silly blunder, but you…sugar, you were not happy.” She lowered her hand, her fingertips resting on her collarbone, and he realized she wasn’t quite as certain as her words would have him believe. “I can’t help but wonder why.”
“I’ve been waiting a long time for this opportunity.”
“Which should make you happy, then. Your plans for CCS and ChandlerAIR are coming to fruition. Payton is delighted you’ll be keeping his company intact, moving ahead with—”
“I’m not.”
Her words halted.
“I’m going to take it apart piece by piece and enjoy every single moment of it,” he said deliberately.
“You mean because the company will really be part of ChandlerAIR now?”
“No.”
She frowned. “I don’t think I understand.”
“When I’m finished with CCS, there will be nothing left of it to even remember.”
“Why?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Emma couldn’t prevent an impatient huff. “Of course it matters. It concerns you, Kyle. Everything about you matters to me.” She closed her mouth on a snap, feeling her cheeks flame. “This isn’t like you.”
“It is exactly like me,” he said roughly. “This is what I do, Emma. It’s business.”
“No,” she said. “There’s something mor
e to it. You’re a builder, Kyle. An achiever. Why would you acquire CCS just to tear it down? That’s not what you said you wanted it for when we first met.”
“I lied.”
She swallowed, nearly falling back a step. “Despite the fact that I’m wearing this ring of yours—” she raised her left hand until the diamonds on the wedding band glittered in the bright overhead light “—I don’t believe you make a habit of deception any more than I do.”
“You’d be wrong, then,” he said, his voice flat. “Don’t credit me with any finer motives, Emma. They don’t exist. I will obliterate CCS, because it will be mine to do with as I choose.”
She shook her head. “This is wrong, Kyle. You know it inside. That’s why you’re so…Oh, tormented is the word that fits, I think. The man I’ve come to know is not a man who can blithely obliterate another man’s life’s work!”
Kyle slammed his unopened beer bottle down on the butcher-block island. “He’s not just another man,” Kyle said, gritting his teeth. “Payton Cummings is my father.”
Emma’s mouth parted. She backed blindly toward the kitchen table and pulled out a chair, sinking weakly onto it. “Your father?” she whispered. “Your…birth father?”
“The man who claimed at dinner tonight that he had no sons to whom he could rightfully pass on his company.” Kyle’s expression was tight. “Ironic, isn’t it?”
She pressed her fingers to her mouth. “He really doesn’t suspect? Doesn’t know you?”
“Kyle Montgomery, CEO of ChandlerAIR, is a far cry from the seven-year-old son who begged his father not to leave.”
“There must be some mistake. He was so…nice.”
“He’s a bastard who left me and my brothers and sisters in the care of a woman who couldn’t find her way out of a pill bottle. A man who didn’t contribute one bloody dollar to our support, and, my sweet Emma, I assure you he had plenty of it to go around. When Sally died and the state tried to find him, the social worker learned that he’d legally relinquished his parental rights to us. He didn’t want us. And now he’s got the almighty gall to pick and choose who he does business with on the basis of their fine upstanding family values!”
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