“No. Tyler and Jason would never do that. But…all the talk and speculation about what happened to Mike, and my alleged part in it, is a major distraction. At this point, my involvement in the firm makes it hard to get things done. And there are some serious discrepancies between the order logs and the on-site job invoices that need to be looked into—by somebody neutral, somebody who’s not me. We had a meeting to talk about it and eventually we agreed that it would be best for the business if I took an extended vacation until this whole thing is…decided.”
“Oh.” It was clear he’d done what he thought was best for Fortune Construction. It was also very clear that, voluntary or not, the decision cut deep.
He must’ve seen the sympathy in her eyes because his own suddenly grew shuttered. “Not that it’s a big deal. It’s just a job. I’ll survive.”
She tried to think of something reassuring to say, but everything she came up with seemed trite. Nor did it help that there was a part of her that felt off-balance and distracted, thanks to the display of masculine perfection laid out before her.
Suddenly realizing she was staring at his navel, which was an absolutely a perfect oval anchored by a thin arrow of black hair that disappeared suggestively under his waistband, she forced herself to look away and found him watching her.
Ashamed—he finally opened up, and she was too busy lusting after his body to think of the right thing to say—she looked guiltily away.
“Relax,” he said sarcastically, misreading her reaction. “I’m not going to jump you. I’ve had my share of being shot down today.” His mouth twisted and he reached for his beer again.
And just like that, she couldn’t stand it. She instinctively reached out and grabbed his wrist. “Don’t.”
He looked at her, a study in arrested motion. “Don’t what? Don’t be so pathetic? Or don’t get drunk?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Sorry, babe, but there’s nothing I can do about the first, and as for the other—” he shrugged dismissively “—I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”
She tightened her grip on his wrist. “You’re not pathetic,” she said firmly. “And as for getting drunk… There are better ways to cope with this.”
His eyes narrowed. “Like what?”
“We could…talk.”
“Oh, yeah. That’ll help.” Their gazes locked; he glanced deliberately at her mouth, then back into her eyes. “Don’t toy with me, Angelica. Not today.”
She swallowed. “I’m not.”
“Yeah, right.”
Maybe it was the grim note in his voice. Or maybe it was the bleak look that flashed across his face, but she knew she had to do something. Not giving herself time to think, she leaned over, braced her hand against the chaise cushion to one side of his head, closed her eyes and pressed her mouth to his.
Time seemed to stop. She felt the warm breeze tickle over her bare legs and arms, heard the pool filter switch on, felt Riley stiffen with shock. Then his hand came up to grip the back of her head, holding her against him as his mouth slanted hungrily against hers in a drugging kiss.
Heat spiraled through her, leaving her as boneless as warmed butter. Her arm buckled, bringing her to rest against the hard curve of his chest. Confronted with all that bare skin, she couldn’t resist touching him. Her palm skated slowly from his armpit to the rounded bulge of his shoulder. His skin felt like heated velvet, and she exhaled with pleasure.
He made a sound low in his throat and half-tugged, half-lifted her on top of him. She gasped as she found herself straddling him, her dress rucked up around her waist, his muscular midriff sliding hot and hard and evocative against her bare thighs.
With a clarity that was as surprising as everything else that was happening, she knew there wouldn’t be any pulling back. And not because Riley would likely never forgive her if she did. But because she didn’t want to stop.
The realization jolted through her. For a moment she felt overcome with panic, and then it faded away. She still might not understand why he’d taken off the way he had that night three months ago, but she knew that it wasn’t because he was just some selfish playboy who’d been out to score.
What’s more, though she knew he’d be the first to deny it, he cared deeply about a number of things. His home, his family, his job, their baby. He might not be the hero she’d made him out to be as a teen, but he wasn’t her enemy, either. He was her husband, and—she caught her breath—she cared about him.
What’s more, Kate had been right; pride didn’t keep you warm at night. She’d missed this. She’d missed him, and she couldn’t pretend otherwise any longer.
“Angel. Angel.” His mouth clung to hers as if he were drowning and she was his only hope for rescue.
She kissed him back, parting her lips for his tongue. She could taste the beer he’d been drinking, and something that was uniquely Riley. The latter made her feel light-headed and she kissed him over and over again, drinking in the heat of his mouth, reveling in their mutual hunger. She couldn’t seem to get enough.
His hand came up and found her breast. She shivered with delight as he rubbed the pad of his thumb over the thin layers of cotton and nylon covering her nipple. Catching the sensitive peak between his fingers, he gently squeezed.
Her body rioted. She bit back a moan, pressing against him as she felt a throbbing ache bloom between her thighs. “Riley, don’t,” she said breathlessly.
His hand stilled instantly. “What’s wrong?” he said raggedly, breathing hard. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No, of course not. It’s just…too much.”
His expression changed, going from concern to satisfied in an instant. “Ah. Well we wouldn’t want that.” To her surprise, he pushed her into a sitting position. Grabbing the hem of her dress, he pulled it up over her head and tossed it away, the skin across his nose tightening as he looked at her. “Damn, but you’re beautiful.”
He reached around and unsnapped her bra with one practiced movement. Tugging the lacy garment away, he cupped her breasts in his hands, pushed them together, and pressed his mouth to the valley he’d created. Then, before she could divine his intent, he lowered his head, took one nipple into his mouth and suckled.
The sensation produced by his mouth was ten times more intense than that from his hand. The steady rhythm made her tremble. Unable to stay still, she rocked against him, flushing a little as she felt the slick dampness between her thighs—and the hard ridge of his sex beneath her. Her mouth went dry with need.
As if he could read her mind, he lifted his head. “I want you, Angel.”
“Yes.”
“I want you now, but you have to want me back.” His gaze was fierce, his voice a low rasp.
“Yes. Oh, yes, Riley, I do,” she assured him fervently.
Without further delay he lifted his hips, shoved down his shorts and underwear and kicked them away.
The heat rising off his skin was shocking. So was the way he reached down, snapped the thin nylon ties on the sides of her panties and yanked them away.
She felt him, hot and insistent, and then he was lifting her, bracing himself, and guiding her down.
Clutching his shoulders, she slid onto the thickness of him. She bit her lip, her eyes fluttering shut at the fullness of his slow, measured invasion as she felt her body stretch to accommodate him.
She felt the wildness start to burn through her blood, a swift rush of passion that in all her life only he’d been able to tap. But threaded through it was tenderness, a need to give, to share herself with this one special man. Leaning down, she caught his lip between her teeth and came up on her knees.
His body bucked, but she refused to be rushed, determined to draw the moment out. She took him slowly, savoring every velvety, rock-hard inch until finally he was sheathed to the hilt.
His control snapped. Grabbing her hips, he urged her up, then pressed her down, his back arching as he rose to meet her. Then he did it again and her every thought of taking things slow v
anished, replaced by the white-hot need for him that had ignited inside her.
“Damn.” His head fell back and his body bowed. “Angelica. Baby. Don’t stop.”
She looked down. His eyes were shut, his inky hair was plastered to his damp forehead and his mouth was wet from their kisses. Something inside her seemed to give way like a wall coming down, and emotion flooded her, hot and tender, and then she was crying out. Pleasure caught her, tightly budded at first, then uncurling, expanding, rocketing outward.
Riley’s arms came around her. His hips slammed up and she heard him cry out. Then his mouth found hers and, holding tight, they rode out the wave together.
It had been a hell of a day, Riley thought, as he lay sprawled on his bed with Angelica’s warm, boneless body cradled against him.
He didn’t remember exactly when they’d moved inside. Or how. Except for the sheet twisted over their hips, the rest of the covers had wound up on the floor, along with the bedspread and all but the single pillow they shared. The past few hours were blurred in his mind, a collage of passion given and pleasure taken.
Yawning, he considered the moonlight pouring into the room and the warm, desert breeze whispering in through the open French doors, and realized he must have slept. But then, that wasn’t surprising. His wife had worn him out.
A faint, satisfied smile curved his mouth. Having sex with Angelica had been every bit as good as he’d remembered. It had been hot and fast, wet and wild, slow and generous; in every way she’d proven his perfect match.
And though that might have bothered him as recently as a week ago, tonight he was finally all right with it. After all, he’d been thinking of little else for the past two weeks, so his satisfaction was only natural. Once the newness had worn off, he imagined some of the current, extraordinary magic between them would dissipate as well.
As for the other feelings coursing through his blood—the strong sense of possessiveness, the tenderness, the powerful need he had to be with her and nobody else—he was all right with that, too, for now.
Because now that he could think again, he realized that things were different than they had been three and a half months ago. Angelica was going to be the mother of his child, after all. It made sense that he’d want to protect her, take care of her, be with her. The fact that he also felt better than he had for a long, long time was just icing on the cake.
He felt Angelica stir. “You awake?” he asked softly.
“Mm-hmm.”
He shifted, rolling onto his side and settling her back against his front, bringing his hand to rest on her stomach.
She gave a happy sigh and snuggled against him. “This is nice.”
“What?”
“Just lying here together like this.”
“Yeah.”
She placed her hand over his. “Another month and you should be able to feel the baby moving.”
“Really?” Up until now, when he’d thought about having a kid it had been mostly in the abstract, as a responsibility to undertake, an obligation to protect. Now, all of a sudden, he pictured a little girl with Angelica’s green eyes and his own dark hair, and it made his throat go tight. “You don’t think we hurt anything, going at it like that, do you?”
“No, of course not.” She paused. “Besides, I saw my doctor the day before we got married, and he said making love was all right.”
“You asked him?”
“Of course not.” She tried to sound offended, but he could hear the smile in her voice. “He volunteered it.”
His own mouth quirked. “Well, that’s good.”
“Mm-hmm.” She stretched. “Riley?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m sorry about your job.”
“Yeah, I know.” He stroked his hand over a strand of her long hair; the shiny strands clung to his fingers. “But it didn’t turn out all bad. If I’d known pity would get you back into bed with me, I’d have gotten myself cut loose a whole lot sooner.”
“Riley!” she protested with a laugh.
He chuckled in turn and tightened his arms around her. After a moment, he admitted thoughtfully, “The thing is…I don’t know what I’m going to do with all my spare time. If you didn’t have finals and I wasn’t out on bail—” try as he might, he couldn’t keep a sardonic note out of his voice “—we could go on a honeymoon. As it is, we’re stuck.”
She gave his hand a squeeze. “It doesn’t matter to me. Your house is nicer than most resorts. And no matter where we are, we can use some time to get better acquainted. Besides, as perfect as it seems to me, there must be something you want to get done around here.”
“Yeah, I suppose. I should figure out how to safeguard the pool, which will make my mother happy. And I could get started on the baby’s room, maybe paint it or something.”
“See, there you go. It’ll be all right. You’ll see.” They were both quiet for a moment, and then Angelica spoke again. “Riley?”
“Hmm?”
“The first time we were together…why did you just take off like that? And why didn’t you call me later?”
Somehow he’d expected the question. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. “I don’t know. There were lots of reasons. I guess I just felt…you’d been through enough. You didn’t need someone like me complicating your life.”
“Oh.” Clutching the sheet, she rolled over onto her stomach and propped herself up on her elbow to look at him. “So you did it for my own good?”
He had the grace to wince. “No—yes—hell, I don’t know, Angelica. I didn’t do it to hurt you.” That, at least, was the truth. “The important thing is, it’s over. In the past. Can’t we just forget about it? At least for tonight?”
She searched his face, and after a moment, she nodded. “All right.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. Because I can think of a lot of better things to do than rehash the past.”
“You can?” She didn’t look convinced.
“Yeah.”
“Like what?”
“Ever gone swimming naked under the stars?”
“No.”
“Never?”
She shook her head. “Never.”
He tossed the sheet away, climbed out of the bed and reached for her hand. “Well, lady—that’s about to change.”
Ten
“Oh, look!” Angelica clutched Riley’s thigh as the Ferris wheel stopped to allow more passengers to board, leaving their gently swaying wooden seat poised at the top of the ride’s arc. “You can see the lights from downtown. Isn’t it pretty?”
Riley looked at her indulgently. “Yeah, I guess. Although if you’re really impressed by the lights of Pueblo, I think you need to get out more.”
“Thanks a lot,” she said, settling back in the drape of his arm with a good-natured laugh.
The wicked grin that always made her heart beat faster flashed across his face, showing off the grooves in his cheeks that he’d firmly informed her were not dimples. “You’re welcome.”
She felt her own face soften as she looked at him, and she was very much afraid that her heart was in her eyes. She forced herself to look away, but even as her gaze focused on the spectacle around them—the brilliant array of twirling, spinning, colored lights from the other rides on the midway, the crowd strolling along down below while brightly dressed barkers vied loudly for their attention—her thoughts stayed with him and the past week.
It had been the most wonderful five days of her life. Among other things, though she’d still had studying to do, they’d also gone to a movie, made love, played in the pool, made love, shopped for the baby’s room, made love, talked, made love, given Cosmo a bath—and made love.
Actually, when she stopped to think about it, as absorbed as they’d been with each other—and as inventive and tireless as her husband was—it was remarkable they’d ever gotten out of bed.
“What are you smiling about?” Riley inquired.
For half a second, she almost told
him. But then her better sense kicked in. When it came to sex, the last thing Riley needed was to have his ego stroked; he knew very well how good he was. “Just all of this.” She indicated the carnival spread out below them with a wave of her hand. “It makes me feel as if I’m sixteen again.”
“Was that the last time you went to a carnival?”
“That’s the only time I went to a carnival.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. And as it was, getting to go at all was just a matter of luck. Not only did my dad happen to be sober at the right time, but he was actually working, which didn’t happen very often, and he decided to treat Mike and me. It was really fun. Of course,” she added with a philosophical shrug, “the very next day he started drinking again, and by the time the carnival came to town two years later he and my mom had had their car accident and they were both gone.”
His arm tightened around her ever so slightly. “I’m sorry, Angel.”
“Don’t be. It’s been long enough that it doesn’t hurt anymore. And I’ll always have that one great memory. With my family, I learned early to count my blessings, no matter how small.” The Ferris wheel gave a jerk, setting their seat rocking as it descended several feet before again stopping. “What about you?” she asked. “Were you a carnival-goer? Or are Fortunes too sophisticated for that?”
“Oh, I came all right, every year until I was fifteen. Girls like carnivals and I liked girls. Still do.”
“What happened when you were fifteen?”
“I got in trouble and got booted out. As usual.”
She considered his matter-of-fact expression. “Let me guess. Did you try to sneak in? Or cheat at one of the games? Or try to take a second turn on a ride without paying?” Among the kids in the neighborhood she’d grown up in, all of those things had been standard fare.
“Give me some credit,” he said with mock indignation. “I got away with all that. What I got caught at was being behind the bleachers with Marianne Milkowski with my pants down—literally. Unfortunately, the head of security was her uncle, so I was persona non grata after that.”
Husband–Or Enemy? (Fortune's Children: The Grooms Book 4) Page 10
