Taking Home the Tycoon

by Catherine Mann

  “I will appreciate the fresh perspective. I feel as if I’ve hit a wall with uncovering who’s behind the blackmail cyberattacks. After interviewing damn near everyone in town and scouring through all available internet data on them—including some backdoor searches it’s best we don’t discuss—I’ve hit a dead end. If I’m, uh, distracted, and missing something obvious, I need to know and I trust Will.” He finished seasoning the meat, the spicy scent of garlic lingering in the air.

  “Distracted?” She couldn’t resist crinkling her nose at him playfully.

  As he washed his hands, he tossed a wicked grin over his shoulder. “C’mon. Let me give you the grand tour of my company. I will warn you, it isn’t as cozy as your setup.”

  “I would enjoy seeing your offices very much. And I totally understand that you’re unlikely to have crayons and coloring books all over everywhere.” She clasped his hand, electricity sparking between them with every touch.

  The squeeze he gave her hand confirmed that he felt that connection, too.

  He walked to the fireplace and keyed in a code. A large mirror slid to the side, revealing a private elevator. Definitely a different world than her homey bed-and-breakfast.

  The elevator moved smoothly down ten floors from his penthouse condo, the doors sliding open to...not what she expected. She’d thought they would step into a lobby, but this elevator led straight to his office.

  He shrugged. “It’s a time saver. I’m able to slip into the office after hours and I’m able to step into work other times without people stopping me with a million questions. It’s efficient.”

  She raised a hand. “You don’t have to defend your wealth to me. You’ve made a huge success of your life. You should be proud of yourself.”

  “I do love high-tech toys.” He pulled what appeared to be a small remote from his pocket.

  Halogen bulbs winked on, flooding the room in bright white. Like his apartment, the space was sleek, embodying the bold architectural flair of Seattle. But with hints of color, hints of him...

  A mixed-media Sherlock Holmes–themed painting depicting A Study in Scarlet hung behind his desk. No pictures, though.

  She made his way toward his desk to inspect whisper-thin computer screens and touch pads. A neat pile of paper. An abacus. Orderly. So different than the chaos of the sewing room. Natalie heard the door click behind her.

  She let out a low whistle, taking a turn about the room as she shrugged out of her sweater. “It suits you. What do you have to get done tonight?”

  Natalie watched his eyes follow the descent of her fluffy sweater onto the desk. The temperature hadn’t changed, but her body was heating.

  “Um, I just wanted to show you the place and get, um—” His throat bobbed, eyes lingering on her curves.

  Feminine power flamed inside her and she welcomed the distraction from all the conflicting thoughts tumbling through her mind, jockeying for dominance. She angled back against his desk, crossing her legs at the ankles and holding his gaze. She tilted her head to the side as he approached.

  He drew her in, their first embrace since she had arrived. For a moment—an infinity, it seemed like—they shared each other’s gazes, drank in the nuances in each iris.

  He angled his face toward hers, and his lips grazed her neck. Small kisses. A deep sigh pressed hot air onto her neck as he said, “Actually, I have a lot to do here in my office tonight.”

  Ten

  Max had intended the trip to his office to be a quick stop to pick up work and then return to his penthouse to romance her with dinner on his balcony. Followed by an evening of lovemaking.

  Apparently, they were mixing the order of his plans.

  Leaving little time for conversation or regrets, Max flattened her back against the door. He kissed her, hard, fast, fully. Reasonable thoughts fell away as fast as her purse thudded to the floor. Heat poured from her lips, pulsing through his veins into a throbbing need.

  Now that she’d made it clear she wanted him, he couldn’t resist. Finally, he had her here, on his turf, in his domain.

  And they were alone. Completely.

  She grinned against his mouth. “Here?”

  “If that’s agreeable to you.”

  She took a step back, slipping her arms through the sleeves of her dress. “Very agreeable.”

  As Max watched her dress glide to the floor, he imprinted the memory of her in his brain. Hell, he knew full well, it was seared there for eternity. He would never forget the vision of her perched on the edge of his desk wearing nothing but heels and a do-me smile.

  Control was shaky at best. But as he’d learned from her bold approach, her drive matched his. They could do slow later. And later again.

  Keeping his eyes on hers, he made fast work of his polo shirt, before kicking off his shoes and slacks. He tugged free his wallet at the last second and placed it beside her on the shiny metal desk, flipping it open and spilling out a couple of condoms.

  Damn, he should have put more than two in there. But then there were more in his condo.

  He silenced her with his mouth, or maybe it was his hand sliding up a silken thigh, between her legs and finding her damp and ready for him.

  Her hand slid down to clasp around him. A shudder rocked through him.

  He tucked his arm behind her and swept the desk clear before lowering her back. Her hair spread in a stunning red fan along the stainless steel surface. He knew he would have a damn near-impossible job concentrating on work the next time he sat in that chair.

  Natalie lifted a shapely leg and traced a toe down the center of his chest. Manicured red toenails grazed his pecs. His abs. His heart hammered in his ears. She was...incredible.

  He tucked his arms under her knees and parted her legs, spreading her, all the while watching her eyes for any hint of protest.

  She inched her heels behind him, pushing against his butt and urging him nearer, nearer still until he slid...home inside her.

  His eyes closed at the warm clamp of her, and then he angled forward over her, holding his full weight with his elbows.

  She clasped hands with him, linking fingers, squeezing.

  And then he couldn’t think beyond moving inside her, holding her hands and restraining his release for as long as possible. Praying she would find completion soon because he wasn’t going there without her and the need to finish roared through him like engines at full throttle.

  He dipped his head to nip along her shoulder. A groan whispered from her kiss-swollen mouth, filling the space between them with her breath, faster, fuller, a flush along her pale skin broadcasting how close she was to unraveling, until...yes. Her arms flung wide to grip the edges of the desk. She arched up, her body tensed, moans of pleasure unrestricted. Yes, she had found completion.

  A good thing, since his orgasm was tougher and tougher to withhold.

  Finally, he allowed himself to plunge deep and hard, his hoarse growl of completion echoing through the empty office. His domain. His world.

  And his woman.

  He couldn’t ignore the primal declaration echoing through his mind, his body, his soul. And in spite of all the reasons he was wrong for her, he began to think the time had come to figure out how to make their worlds merge.

  * * *

  The air didn’t chill Natalie as she sat on Max’s balcony while he leaned against the rail, thumbing through work text messages. Despite the colder Seattle weather, she felt comfortable, seemingly heated from within. The passionate night had left her ablaze.

  Though Max’s portable heater certainly helped reinforce those thoughts.

  The Seattle skyline was flecked and twinkled not with stars, but soft lights of buildings, a living constellation. The sounds of traffic echoed from far below, a distant beat that felt dreamlike. This whole night felt l
ike the unreality of the border between sleep and consciousness, that temporality of potential and magic.

  She sat on a plush lounge chair close to the orange glow of the heater, belly full from a five-star-worthy dinner.

  That Max had cooked himself.

  He was every bit the chef he’d claimed, his rib eye as fine as anything from a Texas steak house, and the kale salad and Asiago macaroni had both been delectable. And the chef had been every bit as enticing as the food. She’d enjoyed watching him deftly move around the kitchen in simple gym shorts and a T-shirt with a hand towel draped around his neck as he prepared their meal.

  Most of all, she enjoyed the new ease that had developed between them. He was still his charming self, but in a more relaxed way with less of an aggressive push.

  Although she couldn’t deny that the speed of their developing relationship left her head spinning.

  A slight wind rustled her loose hair. Strands stuck to her cheek. She pushed them aside and picked up her dessert bowl. The gray dish felt heavy and cold in her hand, a chill finally permeating the heat inside her. She scooted closer to the heater. Wearing Max’s shirt might not have been the warmest choice, but she’d indulged, enjoying the sense of being closer to him. Savoring the scent of him clinging to the fabric.

  Hunger for him stirred in her anew, and she spooned in the vanilla bean ice cream smothered in berries, feeding at least one appetite. She couldn’t help being touched at how he remembered her love of ice cream. The fact that they were learning each other’s preferences spoke of a growing intimacy beyond sex.

  Was she okay with that? She glanced sidelong at him, watching as the wind stirred his dark hair. He gave her a full-out and genuine smile.

  For the first time she really let herself consider the notion of attempting a longer-term relationship.

  His phone lit up on the side table with a text, and his smile turned to half wattage as he tapped the cell. “I need to check in with Will soon to make sure he arrived in Royal.”

  She swallowed, the tart blackberry lingering on her tongue. “Okay, sure. The ice cream and I will keep each other occupied.”

  Exhaling hard, Max set his own bowl down. Sadness touched his features, carving a line of worry into his brow. “Will’s had a rough run of it. He’s a new widower and way out of his element as a single daddy to an infant girl.”

  “That’s so sad. Single parenting is tough, no question.” Flashes of another time, just over a year ago, scrolled through her mind. Of a fateful knock at her door. Somehow the sound of it had held a foreboding before she’d been able to confirm with her eyes what was being delivered. A military notification.

  When she’d approached the door, baby on her hip, she’d known answering that knock would forever change her world.

  A chilly wind blew across the balcony, almost as cold as the chill inside her from those memories.

  She closed her eyes for a moment, willing the painful past away. “How is Will managing his trip to Royal?”

  Standing, he looked down at his phone. “He has a full-time nanny for his daughter.”

  “That’s good that he’s able to travel with his child.” She didn’t know how she would have made it through without her children. Those days she’d wanted to curl up under the covers forever, she’d pulled herself from bed each day to take care of Colby and Lexie.

  “I didn’t mean to say the nanny and baby always travel with him.” He scrubbed his hand over his chin. “He’s having trouble with grief. I’m sure you understand that.”

  “Are you saying he’s having trouble bonding with his daughter?” Jeremy had had difficulty connecting with Colby. She’d credited that to their son crying so much from colic. Then over time, it had become clear there was more than colic.

  Another pang shot through her heart.

  Max turned the cell phone over and over in his hand. “Will is a good friend, a good person. He won’t abandon his child. Parenting is—and should be—a lifelong commitment.” He held up his phone. “I need to check in with him. It won’t take long.”

  She waved her spoon. “Don’t rush on my account. I have plenty here to keep me occupied.”

  Natalie turned her attention back to the night skyline as she heard the sliding glass door rumble open, matching Max’s baritone voice as he spoke into the phone. His voice faded, leaving her once again to the quiet of Seattle’s night viewed from a penthouse height.

  Taking in the magnificence of the Space Needle, she turned his words over in her head about parenting. She appreciated that he understood that responsibility. Which, of course, he did, given his childhood that had left him abandoned by both his father and his mother.

  But parenting as just a responsibility?

  There was more. Another element. Love.

  It was so important for children to feel their parents’ love. Jeremy had tried with Colby, but he’d clearly felt a closer bond to Lexie and it had broken Natalie’s heart to see the disparity.

  She couldn’t help noticing how Max tried equally with both of her children. He didn’t give himself credit, but she could see his ease with both children, feel that he genuinely cared about people without reservations or judgment.

  He was a good man.

  A good man who lived in Seattle in a concrete palace. The balcony had an idyllic view, but the small space confined by rails clearly wasn’t designed with children in mind. But there was so much space beyond here, out there in Seattle. Could she live here? Could he move his business to Texas?

  Could he open his heart to her children?

  Her stomach knotted and the spoon rattled back into her bowl. Had he imagined Max’s connection to her children? Because when he was with her family, she couldn’t deny that it felt right. Good. She owed it to herself—and her children—to at least give this relationship a serious chance. She could always invite him back to Cimarron Rose one last time just to see where it led...

  What the hell was she thinking letting her thoughts travel those kinds of paths? Visiting Max was about having a fling. Wasn’t it?

  She’d just started to find her way in the world again, learning how to build a good life for her children on her own. After the heartbreak of her marriage, did she have the courage to try for more again?

  * * *

  Back in Royal less than a week later, Max juggled two juice boxes in one hand while he held open Natalie’s refrigerator, looking for the fresh apple turnovers that Natalie had left in the fridge. A surreal wave washed over him.

  She trusted him. Implicitly. After being hesitant to allow him to be around her children, Natalie had left them in his care while she went to Brandee Lawless’s house for a fitting. He’d helped load the car full of lacy material, measuring tapes and a sketchbook.

  He smiled inwardly, recalling the way her nose had crinkled as she showed him the toy cabinet and location of all the supplies he would need for his childcare adventure. She’d kissed him deeply, been so appreciative of his help.

  And he would not let her down. Picking up the apple turnover platter with his other hand, he turned to face Lexie and Colby.

  Lexie twirled and twirled and twirled in her little pink dress.

  “Mr. Max! Mr. Max! Look.” She leaped, almost like a ballerina.

  “That’s perfect, kiddo. What do you say we eat some apple turnovers in the living room? Maybe watch some TV?” He smiled at her. So much energy out of one little body. He had to give Natalie even more credit than ever before. Taking care of two little kids was tougher, more exhausting, than any day he’d put in at the office. And she managed this while running a business.

  He couldn’t even claim that distraction, since the B and B was empty for the morning, a slew of new guests due later in the day, the reason Natalie had opted to do the fitting now. She’d figured watching the kids would be easier.
<
br />   Ha.

  “Yeah, TV, TV, TV,” Lexie squealed, clapping her hands as she bolted off to the living room in a blur of pink.

  Colby shifted on his feet, looked at him. “Can we watch Fishtales?”

  The question had caught him off guard, the way the boy was warming to him rather than just answering questions. “Of course we can, Colby.”

  “Cool.” A rare smile tugged at his little mouth. Miss Molly nuzzled her charge’s hand. Colby patted the side of his leg. “Come, Miss Molly. Let’s go.”

  The trio walked to the living room. Lexie and Colby sat on the couch and sank into the cushioning. Max placed the plate of turnovers in front of them. Miss Molly, who had lain at Colby’s feet, eyed the plate. Praying for crumbs probably.

  Max thumbed the television remote, pulled up Fishtales and hit Play. He settled into the armchair, content. They could blend their worlds, bring them together. Natalie had spent time with him in Seattle, and now here he was back in Texas, figuring out the domestic scene.

  Things could actually be this good. He swiped one of the apple turnovers, enjoying the spice of the cinnamon and the fresh apples. Calm. Everything was calm.

  Until his phone vibrated three times in a row. Retrieving it from his pocket, he saw he’d just missed a call from Will.

  A break in the case? Looking back at Natalie’s children, he watched as they stared intensely, enthralled by a cartoon movie.

  He would only be gone a few moments. He quietly excused himself, careful not to disturb their TV time.

  Max made his way into the hall and pressed the call-back option on his phone. The phone rang once before Will’s gruff voice answered.

  “Hey, I just wanted to let you know we’ve gotten a significant amount of data from the algorithm you designed. I think that we might be onto something,” Max’s friend said by way of answering. Will was no-nonsense, always down to business.

  Though Max could barely hear his friend over Miss Molly’s whining. The dog came, nuzzled his hand. Whined again. Ran to the door and barked, distracting him from what Will was saying.