by Robyn Grady
His shirt three-parts open, his bronzed, hard chest unashamedly on display, he slid the cell from his belt, pressed a button—presumably to switch it off—then tossed the device on the hall table before he sauntered back.
“I figure we don’t want to be interrupted.”
She unclasped the bra’s snaps and, dropping her arms, let the cups fall.
“You figured right.”
Daniel’s eyes smoldered before he brought her near again. But rather than kiss her, he coaxed her around until they stood, his hard front to her back. The graze of his morning beard against the sweep of her neck sent a bevy of tingles down her entire right side while his palm, slightly rough, rode up over her quivering midriff. She sighed as the ridge of each finger one by one bumped over the sensitive tip of her breast while four hot pads slid down the front of her panties and between her thighs.
Sucking in a breath, she rolled her neck back and brought one arm up, knotting fingers in his hair as his teeth danced across the sensitive slope that led to her shoulder.
“I’m so glad I came.”
His smile tickled. “I thought I was working on that.”
His thumb and forefinger came together to roll and pinch her nipple while, below, he found the part of her that already wanted to burst into flame. He drew slow, tight circles around that pulsing, smoking spot. Within seconds, her every muscle was braced, preparing for the thunderous run of contractions that crouched, waiting, a thumping heartbeat away. But then his touch moved higher. He angled her head back and his mouth claimed hers once more.
Dissolving, she let her hands slide up over the hot, smooth curve of his shoulders as he wound out of his shirt then walked her back a few paces until her calves met the seat of the couch. He was dropping kisses along her neck, over her breasts then down her ribs. As that wonderful flame inside of her leaped higher, she lifted her face to the ceiling and, quivering, hoped her knees would hold.
He slid down farther and the tip of his tongue trailed lower, too. With his help, she held on to his shoulders and stepped out of her panties. When he drew a slow line between her legs and gently parted her folds until that most private part of her was exposed, she couldn’t contain a small cry of longing. His mouth covered her at the same moment he groaned with pleasure. The rumble vibrated through her blood while he flicked and swirled and then oh, so lightly nipped.
The glow of a million tiny lights quivered and swelled before, too soon, wave after breathless wave of release broke over her. Gripping his hair, she clung on to the thrill until the very last roll and he grudgingly drew away. As she buzzed and floated on the afterglow, through dreamy eyes she looked down and smiled.
She was still wearing her heels.
She swallowed her smile when she felt her weight being swept off the ground. With her safely cradled against his chest, Daniel carried her into the master bedroom.
Before he laid her on the rumbled sheets of the bed he’d slept in the previous night, he traced a line of tender kisses around her brow, her cheek and then murmured at her ear.
“You’re more beautiful than I even imagined.”
As she wriggled down into the cool cotton, blissfully content, he removed his shoes, the rest of his clothing and sheathed himself with a condom retrieved from his wallet. A necessity, particularly when she was unprotected. She hadn’t been with a man in too long to remember.
As he came to her, she closed her eyes and relished the feel of his hard warmth wrapping around her as he gathered her near.
“No regrets?” he asked in the quiet curtain-drawn room.
Driving her palm over the powerful plateau of his chest, she assured him, “Not a one.”
The white of his smile shone in the shadows before his long, strong frame covered hers. Again, Elizabeth gave herself over to the wonder of his kiss as her legs wound around the back of his rock-hard thighs and he moved, at last, entering her. A spike of pure bliss pushed from her belly all the way through to her tingling brain.
While one large palm scooped beneath to angle her hips up, his other hand curled around her head. As he moved above her, he nuzzled below her ear, growling every so often as if the feel of her surrounding him was so good it almost hurt. She removed herself from everything other than the sensation of physical abandon. When he stopped moving and his every muscle clenched and trembled above her, humming in her throat, she ran her fingertips up and down his slick sides and grazed her lips over the hot slope of his neck.
He took in a deep breath and, pushing up onto elbows, thrust again, deeper, longer. His hot gaze locked on hers and, his forehead and chest glistening in the dim light, he ground above her. With his steely thighs bearing down, pumped biceps strained on either side of her head. He brought them both higher, feeding a fire that left her giddy and breathless.
Then his eyes squeezed shut and a rumble set off through his chest at the same time he hit an explosive spot delectably high inside of her. An all-consuming burn ripped through her body, catapulting her heart, curling her toes, at the same instant he reached that point of no return, too. As he drove in, groaned and shuddered, Elizabeth arched up to meet him.
She’d come here to claim what she could while she could.
And Daniel Warren had turned out to be far more than she’d bargained for.
Six
Daniel was still holding on to the last of the I’ve-never-known-such-intensity feeling when, drawing a line down his shoulder and arm, Elizabeth asked, “Think I should take off my shoes now?”
His eyes snapped open. Thirty minutes ago he’d been ready to pack up and shove off. He’d decided Abigail and the Texas Cattleman’s Club might do better without his input. Rand, as far as he knew, had advised the pilot. And yet here he was, naked in a tangle of sheets. Elizabeth Milton lay beneath him, her hair creating a soft golden frame for her glowing face, and her legs wrapped around behind his, those sexy pumps hanging off her toes.
“If wearing your heels contributed to that experience,” he said, shifting to slip off one shoe then the other, “we’re on to something.”
After setting the pair on the floor, he scooped her close. As he searched her eyes, he wound hair behind her ear then leaned forward to tenderly kiss her lobe. At the same time, he caught the time on his wrist and frowned. Midday wasn’t far enough away. Elizabeth must’ve been thinking the same.
Sighing, she burrowed in against his chest. “I’m going to make you late.”
“You’re going to make me later yet.”
Cupping her jaw, he angled her face higher then kissed her again, but this time the pleasure his mouth on hers stirred was different. There was a tenderness and understanding. This morning was totally unexpected, as well as utterly off-the-charts amazing. He hoped she knew he would remember every moment…even if he couldn’t stay.
As the kiss slowly broke, he wished this could be some kind of beginning rather than an end. But there was no way around the fact that he was headed out. He’d decided it was best not to pursue the Cattleman’s Club project. He was done here. Elizabeth, on the other hand, was here to stay.
They lay together in the muted light, each in their own thoughts.
“Daniel, can I ask you something? Something personal.”
“Sure.”
“Why did you choose New York to settle down?”
His gut jumped and tightened. Yep, that was personal.
“That’s a long story.”
“I understand,” she said in a small voice.
His stomach tightened more and, relenting, he tipped up her chin and pressed his lips to her cooling forehead. “But I’ll tell you,” he said, and grinned, “if you promise not to be bored.”
Her expression melted and dimples appeared. “Cross my heart.”
Inhaling, he thought back. Not pleasant memories, but since when could memories hurt you? People who were supposed to care for you did that.
“My parents split when I was five. My mother never got tired of telling me that my fat
her and his family were to blame.”
“That must have hurt to hear.”
He huffed. Big-time. But as a young boy he soon developed a tactic that worked.
“After a while I stopped listening.”
“Did your mother’s family come from New York?”
“Connecticut. She wanted me to live up there with her. My father was adamant I would remain under his roof.” Actually, it was “we.” He’d had a younger brother, a friend he missed dearly. But that was something Daniel never discussed. “Given my father was a lawyer at the time, I’m stumped how he didn’t win sole custody. The law isn’t about justice,” he told her, running a hand down her arm. “It’s about who has the most money. The most clout.”
“Your mother got custody?”
“It was split, straight down the middle. Half my time was spent in South Carolina in my father’s empty, angry mansion, having to contend with my grandmother calling my mother a—”
His throat constricted, he cut himself off. He’d leave it to Elizabeth to fill in the blank.
“And the other half you spent up north,” she said for him.
He thought back to last night at the Milton Ranch dining table. “You asked if my mother could cook.”
“I remember.”
“She was a health nut. Constantly lecturing about the body being your temple and pumping herself full of vitamins. When I left her home for the last time, I ate nothing but junk food for a month.”
Her grin was small and sad. “How old were you when you left?”
“I was eighteen when I told them both to go to hell.”
Elizabeth drew back. “Your parents?”
He lifted one shoulder, let it drop. He was sorry he’d offended her Southern sense of duty. He was sorry about a lot of things.
“By that time I’d had it up to here with being shuffled back and forth like a parcel with no voice.” No feelings.
His voice had grown louder and his hands had bunched. He breathed in deeply, pushed it all out and dragged his thoughts away from incidents that couldn’t be changed.
“When they both threatened to disinherit me if I didn’t come around, I said I didn’t want anything to do with their money. I put myself through college and the rest, as they say, is history.”
“Have you seen them since?”
He set his jaw against the hollow, dark feeling rising from deep inside. “Not my father.” He couldn’t bring himself to speak to that egocentric, self-serving man again. “And my mother knows if she starts with telling me what’s best for her boy, it’ll be a long time before I darken her doorstep again.”
“It makes sense now. Why you had such a strong opinion about my parents’—” she searched for a word “—requests. If my folks had behaved like that, I’m not sure I’d be falling over myself to please them, either.”
Her situation was vastly different from his. “You love your ranch.” She wanted to stay. Or at least she’d convinced herself that she did.
As if she’d read his mind and had grown uncomfortable, she sat up, hugged her sheet-covered knees and made a confession he had no trouble believing.
“I do get a little restless by the end of the ten months,” she said. “I can break up the time I spend out of Royal, but I usually go through my two months away pretty well straight out the gate.”
“There are no loopholes?”
“I get more time if I want to study away but there are stipulations on that, as well.”
“Sounds as if they wanted their grandkids to be pure Texan.”
She cut him an amused look. “I’m not thinking about having a family just yet.”
That makes two of us.
“You’ll find your own way,” he assured her. Even if it turned out to be her parents’ way, too.
“Do you think so?” She gave a self-deprecating smile. “I’m not sounding so sure today.”
“You’re young.” He sat up, too, and kissed the tip of her nose. “You’ve got plenty of time to grow old and set in your ways.”
“Like you?” she teased.
“That’s right,” he said, only half joking.
“Guess you’ve earned the right given you’re, what? all of thirty-three?”
“Thirty-five.”
She covered her heart and pretended to lose her breath. “If I’d known, I would never have seduced you.”
His smile faded as the obvious question begged to be voiced. “Would it be impolite to ask your age?”
Please not twenty-two.
“I’m twenty-five.”
“Don’t tell me.” His lips twitched. “Twenty-six next birthday.” The idea of racking up another year wasn’t so appealing once you hit thirty.
She narrowed her eyes, but playfully. “I know what you’re thinking and ten years isn’t that big of an age difference. I’m well over twenty-one.”
A knot low in his gut pulled and he held that breath. They’d just made love, were sharing some secrets, but that last comment sounded a little too much like, Where do we go from here?
He tempered her challenging tone with a fact he’d come to appreciate more and more the older he got. “My father was ten years older than my mother.”
“Sounds like they had bigger problems than a gap in birth dates.”
“A lot of married couples do.”
A hint of suspicion swam up in her eyes and she looked at him hard. “You’re not a fan of the institution.”
He leaned back against the strong timber headrest. “That’s right.”
Her gaze searched his until Daniel felt her unwarranted pity seep into his bones.
“Your parents failed,” she murmured. “You didn’t. You don’t have to run all your life.”
Somewhere a phone began to ring. His heart thudding, Daniel snapped a glance to his left. The bedroom extension. Five minutes ago he’d have cursed the interruption. Now? It seemed this distraction was right on time.
He picked up and blinked twice at the voice on the other end. He’d expected Rand or one of the boys.
“Daniel, is this a bad time?”
“Abigail?” He brought the sheet up higher, flicked a glance at Elizabeth. “I was going to call.”
“I just wanted to let you know,” Abigail said, “despite yesterday’s hiccup, I have faith in you. You weren’t voted American Architect of the Year for nothing. I can’t wait to see what you come up with next.”
Daniel was gnawing his bottom lip.
“Well, see, Abigail…that’s the thing—”
“Word around town is you’re seeing my friend, Elizabeth Milton,” she cut in, an interested and approving note in her tone.
His smile was thin. “Nothing like a well-watered grapevine for spreading rumors.” Photos would probably be in the Royal newspaper come morning.
Abigail laughed. “Anyone would think you didn’t want a gorgeous, refined lady like Elizabeth Milton hanging off your arm.”
He wanted to clear his throat. He’d done more than that this past hour. They’d got close enough for Elizabeth to assume she knew him, to tell him that he didn’t need to keep running.
She had it wrong. He hadn’t run away. When he was old enough, he’d finally stood up and pledged to do things his way and to hell with anyone who didn’t like it.
But then Daniel thought about that design, Abigail’s belief in him, the story behind that plaque. Mostly he thought about Elizabeth and the voice in his head telling him that, after what they’d just shared, he should do more than thank her for her time and bolt.
“When can we meet?” Abigail was asking.
“Let me get back to you, Abby. I have something to take care of.”
He disconnected and, after a contemplative moment, found Elizabeth’s gaze. Hugging her legs, her chin resting on her knees, she was grinning—grinning as if she could read his every thought.
“You’re staying, aren’t you?” she asked.
Hoping he wouldn’t regret it, Daniel tipped her back onto the s
heets.
“Yeah,” he murmured against her lips. “I’m staying.”
Seven
The moment Elizabeth knew that Daniel wasn’t on the next flight out of Royal, she was at once elated and strangely unsettled.
Her first thought was that they could share again what they had today. She’d never experienced anything like the sensations he’d stoked and coaxed from her this morning. Making love with Daniel had been an all-consuming, unprecedented lesson in mounting pleasure and rolling release. Mind, body and spirit seemed to meld until she’d felt as if she were one-half of a wondrous whole.
But as Daniel kissed her a final time then headed for the attached bath, Elizabeth bunched the sheet up under her chin and told herself to keep her head. Yes, the sex had been outstanding. Powerful. In some ways, humbling. So many would go through life without appreciating the true meaning of the phrase “making love.”
But that didn’t mean Daniel felt as deeply about this morning’s interaction as she did. She had no cause to think he’d told Abigail he’d stay for any reason other than the fact he wasn’t ready to give up on that project. She was thankful for Abigail’s sake, and for the sake of the inevitable future of the club…if Daniel came up with a design that captured the members’ hearts and helped Abigail’s push to become the establishment’s first female president. The old guard would have a blue fit.
But the Texas Cattleman’s Club was due for change. The club’s creed—Leadership, Justice and Peace—surely applied to good women as well as good men.
Angling her legs out from beneath the covers, Elizabeth wiggled her toes into the carpet and, looking toward the bathroom door, she wondered if she ought to get dressed before Daniel returned. Probably best, she decided, collecting her shoes and padding out to the main room. She wouldn’t have him think she wanted more of his time than she’d already taken.
She moved into the main room, slipped on her lingerie, her dress, jacket and finally those magic heels. And then her attention slid toward the main door and a prickle of unreality bubbled up. She didn’t regret coming here, but now that she was dressed and had been left alone to wait, she found it difficult to believe that she’d actually gathered up her courage to ride that elevator up to Daniel’s suite without an invitation in the first place.
