Seduction's Stakes

by Claire Ashgrove

  Beer helped ease her bruised ego, and she'd had one too many. Make that three or four too many. If she had to go home alone, she might as well turn her evening into a fun excursion one way or the other—and Riley seemed all too willing to continue to feed her thirst.

  He'd had a few too many also, but unlike men she understood, he didn't try to indulge himself in her when the beer went to his head. No, not Riley. Riley got quiet. Like he was right now. He still flashed her his winning smile, still responded politely to her banter, but hadn't initiated a speck of conversation in the last hour or so.

  So far, she'd managed to dodge most of the questions about Maddie. It wasn't her place to tell him. If Maddie wanted Riley to know, she'd welcome his attentions. But Sybil had promised to explain about Nate after they returned to the hotel. Initially, that had been her tactic to weaseling her way into his room. Now, she knew it was a fruitless pursuit.

  She'd give him one more honest effort before she called tonight a complete failure, but judging by the way he kept looking at his watch, she was about to run out of time. She would keep her promise only because that was one subject she knew Maddie would never talk about. If Riley intended to ever have a chance with Maddie, there were some key things he needed to know.

  The balloon floated gently to the ground, and the pilot opened the basket to let them out. With a little sigh of disappointment, she accepted Riley's offered arm and exited. The ground wobbled beneath her feet, and she stumbled into him. His strong arm came about her waist to steady her, and Sybil felt a pang of regret. Too bad that arm wasn't going to hold her in other ways tonight. Damn, she'd looked forward to that.

  Oh well. Hopefully her loss would end up Maddie's gain. The man was positively smitten with Maddie. With a little luck, her best friend wouldn't realize too late how much of a catch he was.

  "Sorry, I think I caught my heel on the grass,” she apologized as he stepped away.

  He flashed her a grin that made her belly flutter. “You can't fool me that easily, Sybil. We're drunk. It's a wonder I can catch you at all."

  Her laughter sparked his, and soon they were stumbling over each other as they cackled their way down the harbor walk. Riley stopped short, steadying himself on a lamppost, and Sybil turned around, tapping her toe, waiting for him to recover. “Come on, big boy. I've got a story to tell you, if you recall."

  "That's right, you do."

  He pushed away from the lamppost, took a deep breath, and when he tucked her hand into his elbow, he seemed steadier. At least one of them was. The question now remained—how steady would he stay? Could she convince him into sleeping with her? Had the beer gone far enough yet?

  "Maybe we better go back,” she stated.

  He nodded, and his gaze pulled toward the hotel's tower. “I think that sounds like a good idea."

  The six-block walk passed quickly. But the early spring air blowing off the harbor was cold and uncomfortable. Sybil hugged Riley's arm all the way back to the hotel, primarily because he offered body heat. However, it didn't hurt a thing that he felt every bit as good as she'd imagined he might. Of course, hanging on to him made her surroundings spin a little slower. She really shouldn't have had that last beer.

  Sybil squinted at the bright lobby light and tightened her hold on Riley's arm as he led her toward the elevator. When the doors rolled open, and he ushered her inside, she leaned against the paneled wall, grateful for the additional support.

  "Maybe I ought to just take you to your room, Sybil,” Riley suggested with a concerned frown.

  "No, no, I'm fine. I just need a glass of water. You wanted to hear about Nate, right?” She stood up a little straighter, took a deep breath, and tried to ignore how Riley's outline looked a little fuzzy.

  "Yeah, I want to know about this jock Maddie dated."

  "Interesting curiosity, by the way."

  His brown eyes found hers and grilled her with suspicion she didn't understand. “Why do you say that?"

  "Well, it is. I mean, Maddie hardly gives you the time of day, and you're all obsessed over Nate. It's something a jealous lover would want to know about—not a guy trying for a second date."

  Riley's mouth pulled into a hard line. His answer came out clipped. “I just want to know."

  The elevator stopped on his floor, and he fastened her hand in his to lead her to the opposite end. At his door, she savored the opportunity to study his tall, muscular build while he fiddled with the keycard. It worked on the third attempt, and he pushed the door open.

  She glanced around, searching for something that might give her a little insight to the man's character. A cigar perhaps, an open bottle of liquor, a phone number—anything that might tell her something he hadn't volunteered.

  The first thing she noticed was the open bedroom door, and beyond that, his rumpled bed. A bathrobe on the floor, beside the clothes he'd worn this morning. Amidst them, a forgotten pair of white thong underwear.

  So he hadn't been alone in here. Interesting. Infatuated with Maddie and banging someone else. Maybe she hadn't lost her opportunity.

  As she took a seat on the sofa, Riley disappeared into the bathroom. The rush of water met her ears, and when he returned, he carried a glass of water. This time, however, he pulled the bedroom door shut as he stepped into the sitting room.

  She accepted the offered water and took a little sip. “Well, sit down if you want me to play story-teller."

  Riley dropped into the couch beside her, stretching his arm out along the back. For a second, she debated snuggling into his embrace, but thought better of it when she looked at his expression and read disinterest once again.

  "How'd she meet him?” he asked with a hint of a frown.

  With a sigh, she leaned back into the overstuffed couch, resigning herself to sharing Maddie's secrets. “Her father hired him when Maddie was seventeen. He was older, about six years older than us."

  "She liked him from the start?” Riley rushed to ask.

  "No, he just kinda grew on everyone. They were friends. About a year later they started dating. Nate was Maddie's first—and as far as I know, only—love."

  His frown deepened, but he urged her on with a curt nod.

  "He was always telling Maddie to believe in the impossible. And bless his heart, he set out to prove her impossibles to her."

  "How so?” He looked suddenly interested.

  "Well, the one of greatest significance ... She believed for a long time her father would never let her travel overseas alone. That she was too needed on the farm on a day-to-day basis."

  "I can understand that."

  Sybil nodded. “She wanted to go to Italy and swore it would never happen while her father was alive. Nate took every penny of his winning shares one summer, stored them up, and off they went."

  "So that's why she goes to Italy."

  "Yes, and no.” Sybil paused to gather her thoughts and take another sip of water. “At first, yes. She went back to try and hold on. Despite what she said tonight, she went even when her father was still alive. Now she goes...” She frowned, certain Riley would laugh. “Now she goes back to forget."

  "Forget what?"

  Sybil let out a deep sigh, studying her water glass for a long moment. “I shouldn't tell you these things, Riley."

  "Pretend you aren't."

  She shook her head with a chuckle. When Riley wanted something, he sure didn't take no for an answer.

  "When Nate died, Maddie shut herself away. She's dated, and done so often. Yet, she's never let anyone close, never let anyone inside. She runs from anyone who has a remote interest in racing—which contradicts what she is. She goes to Italy to forget she's alone."

  Something Sybil couldn't identify passed across Riley's face. Compassion perhaps. But not quite. Whatever it was, it prompted her to volunteer more information.

  "I'm not certain Maddie has even slept with anyone since Nate's death. There may have been someone once. If so, it wasn't an emotional attachment. A guy who worked f
or her briefly. I'm the only person who knows Nate asked Maddie to marry him the night before he died."

  The emotion washed across his face again. This time Sybil shivered against it. Whatever nerve she struck by telling Riley this story, it ran deep.

  "Tell me, Sybil, sex aside, does she refuse to get involved because she's still in love with him?"

  She couldn't hold back her laugh. “No. She'll always love him as any normal person would. But Maddie avoids involvement because she's scared to death she'll hurt like that again. Sometimes I wish Nate were here just so Maddie could let go. It's been too long since she's laughed like she used to."

  Riley studied her. Behind his brown eyes she saw the wheels turn as he absorbed her words. After several moments of silence he asked, “How would you, as her best friend, know whether she'd taken a chance like that again?"

  She swallowed her mouthful of water and hurried to answer. “Oh that's easy! When Maddie lets down her guard she's playful. The demure woman who commands the racing world disappears, and she can be downright outrageous."

  His brows narrowed sharply. “Would she ever sleep with someone involved in racing?"

  Sybil wanted to say yes. She hated to disappoint Riley. But the truth was, she didn't believe Maddie would ever give up her no racing rule. Nate ruined that for her. She shook her head, answering in a quiet voice, “I'm sorry, Riley. I just don't see that happening."

  He leaned his head back on the fluffy arm and let out a sigh, obviously affected by her honesty. For Sybil, though, the moment of resignation offered opportunity, and she set her water glass on the end table. Leaning forward, she put one palm on Riley's chest, and straddled his thighs. Then, as he lifted his head, she dipped hers, drawing him into a kiss.

  He tasted like beer, and his cologne smelled of spice. But the way his tongue danced across hers sent a thrill shooting through her veins. The man knew how to kiss. Boy did he ever. She leaned in closer, and twined her arms around his neck, waiting for the moment the gentle caress would shift into something more hungry, more demanding. Something raw and sexual.

  Instead, his hands fastened rather roughly around her arms, and he pushed her away with haste, breaking the kiss. She opened her eyes to inquire, and read annoyance in those ale-colored depths.

  He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “I think you better leave, Sybil."

  "What's wrong?” she asked, puzzled.

  He closed his eyes again, pulling in a deep breath. When he opened them, they burned with dark intensity. “Your best friend spent all of last night here with me. And you, in so many words, just informed me it meant as much to her as it means to me. I belong to Maddie."

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  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Sybil's eyes widened to twice their normal size. For the love of God she had to get out of here. If Maddie knew she'd come here to seduce Riley, she'd never forgive her.

  "Oh, shit,” she cried. Pushing away from Riley as if he'd suddenly caught fire, she scrambled off his lap. “Riley, I'm sorry."

  She spun around, in frantic search for the door. Too many beers made the sudden movement spin the room in a dizzying circle, and her stomach rolled with it. Biting back the bitter taste of bile, she started for the door. She forgot about the table, however, and stumbled over it, barely managing to stop the brass lamp from crashing to the floor. Riley jumped up in time to catch her elbow, but the rocking room got the better of her, and before she could stop it, her stomach heaved.

  Crumpling to her knees, Sybil retched all over the floor. Then, she began to cry. Big, fat tears produced from shame, which transformed into sobs as she realized she was only further embarrassing herself. God, she hadn't been this drunk in a good ten years.

  Riley's hand fell atop her shoulder with a gentle squeeze.

  She waited for his rightful anger, stiffened in anticipation of her well-deserved lecture.

  "Come,” he instructed with a heavy sigh. “Let's get you cleaned up."

  He gripped her elbow and helped her to her feet.

  "I'm so sorry,” she managed through gulps of air.

  Glancing down at herself, she cried harder when she noticed not only had she made a mess on his floor, but she'd also ruined her dress and soiled her hair. She heard herself blubber something unintelligible and tried to cover her face with her hands.

  Riley merely replied, “It happens. The bathroom's this way."

  When she stepped inside the spacious room, her gaze fastened on Maddie's distinctive, purple Chanel makeup bag, and she let out a little wail of despair. She'd given it to Maddie for her last birthday. If she'd only thought to use the restroom, she never would have touched those lips that so obviously belonged to Maddie.

  Her stomach churned again. She pushed away from Riley, focused on the toilet. As her knees hit the cool marble floor, she heard the door close behind her.

  "Call me when you're finished,” Riley called through the heavy wood.

  * * * *

  Riley sat down on the edge of the bed and rubbed his face with his hands. He was tired. Too tired to deal with a drunken woman. Half of him wanted to rush her right down to Maddie's room and be done with it. But the gentlemanly side of him couldn't just turn her out that quickly. Nor did he particularly feel like interrupting Maddie's much needed rest by forcing her to deal with Sybil.

  Besides, Lord knew he'd had his share of nights spent praying to the porcelain god.

  However, the fact he hadn't prevented that kiss made him feel like an ass. If he'd seen it coming, he would have. Instead, he'd been preoccupied by the enormous weight of Sybil's unwitting revelation. Truth to tell, he'd been savoring it. Delighted with the way an unfamiliar warmth slowly seeped through his veins at hearing making love to Maddie meant something more than just a tumble in the sheets.

  He'd learned something too, that he might not have otherwise discovered. In Sybil's reaction, he recognized fierce loyalty. If she'd shrugged off his statement and tried to convince him to forget about Maddie for an evening, he'd have forcibly removed her. But the horror in her expression, the way she jumped away from him, told him despite her overtly-sexual demeanor she wasn't a thoughtless whore. She might enjoy casual sex, but underneath all that flirting, Sybil knew the meaning of friendship.

  That discovery made the fleeting kiss tolerable. He could forgive it. And, he fully intended to confess it to Maddie. There could be no secrets between them if he wanted to hang on to her. Which he did. For as long as she would let him.

  In the meantime, he had to deal with a sick Sybil, and the bathroom had become awfully quiet. With a haggard sigh, he crossed to the door and knocked. Silence greeted him.

  Easing the door open, he spied her, arms folded over the seat, head atop one elbow, asleep. Perfect. Just what he needed. Drunken Sybil was now passed-out Sybil. Tonight just kept getting better.

  He knelt beside her and shook her shoulder. “You can't sleep in here, Sybil. Wake up."

  She mumbled something, and her head lolled limply.

  Riley debated phoning Maddie. He even reached for the nearby telephone and punched in the first two digits. But as he reached for the third, her weary expression leapt to his mind, and he hung the phone up, determined not to disturb her. He could handle this.

  Bending down, he looped his arms around Sybil's waist and hauled her upright. When she was half-standing, he slid one arm behind her knees and swept her off her feet. Muttering his displeasure, he carted her to the bedroom and dropped her rather roughly on the bed, hoping she might wake up from the jostle.

  No such luck. Sybil didn't even bother to straighten out the leg that bent under her at an angle that had to be painful.

  Riley looked around for something he could cover her with, and spied the white robe Maddie had used after her before-dinner bath. He snatched it up, and with fierce determination yanked off Sybil's high-heeled shoes. Then, he tackled her dress. It took a little maneuvering, and more effort than he'd hoped to expend, but he managed to ge
t it off her, groaning when he discovered she had nothing on beneath.

  Absolutely not what he wanted to deal with. Putting his lover's best friend to bed was one thing. Putting his lover's naked best friend to bed, entirely another. Explaining this to Maddie wasn't going to be easy. Where the hell was Scott when he needed him?

  Riley wrestled the robe around Sybil and pulled it down over her legs. Then, he belted it in a firm knot and rolled her away from the edge of the bed. Picking up her clothes, he dropped them off the foot of the bed where he'd tossed her shoes.

  Returning to the bathroom, he fetched a towel, two rolls of toilet paper, the trashcan, and a soaking wet washcloth. With a clenched jaw, he stalked to the sitting room where he scrubbed at the mess on the floor. He didn't want to have to confront it first thing in the morning.

  Finished, Riley tied the trash sack tight, put the items back where they belonged and grabbed another clean towel. Although he had somehow managed to keep himself clean through the ordeal, he couldn't shake the paranoia that the smell still clung to him. Nothing a quick shower wouldn't correct.

  He spun on the faucets and stepped beneath the steamy spray. Damned if Sybil didn't owe him for this. He didn't intend to let her forget easily either.

  With his hair washed and his body scrubbed, he turned off the water and stepped outside, pausing a moment to relive the first time he'd seen Maddie in the tub across the way. He could still see her sitting there, her hair piled atop her head, the water dripping down her neck. God, what he'd give to have her here, even passed out, as opposed to Sybil.

  Heated from the shower, he opted to forego his shirt and pulled on a pair of cotton boxer shorts. At last convinced he could do nothing further, he dragged a blanket from the linen closet and made his way back to the sitting room to sleep on the couch. It was small, but it would work for one night. Besides, he had to get up in a few hours anyway.