“Hi.” The insane urge to giggle hit her again. She smothered it. It was an undignified sound. Certainly not a sexy one.
Then she caught her breath once more as Jake stroked his fingers over her belly, letting them circle and dip into her navel, before sliding up to her breasts and brushing the underside of them.
For long minutes, he simply caressed her, never lingering in one spot and never stopping, either. Sabrina thought she was utterly replete and exhausted, but her nerves began to twitch in response and her muscles to quiver. Her breath hurried along, keeping time with her heart.
When he bent his head to take her breast into his mouth and tease the nipple with his teeth, she was eager and more than willing to go along with anything he wanted to do to her.
The morning was a long way off and could be safely ignored.
For now.
Chapter Five
Jake knew the moment Sabrina woke and remembered where she was. She stiffened, her breath halting for tiny moment. Then she tried to breathe normally. She eased out of the bed to avoid disturbing him.
“It’s okay. I’m awake,” he told her. He’d been awake since five a.m., his thoughts frenetic.
She sat up, keeping her back to him, which gave him a chance to appreciate all over again the achingly beautiful curve of her hips, from the narrow waist, out and down to the perfect shape of her ass. She had generous hips, which he didn’t mind in the slightest. Skinny models had never appealed to him, even though most of the women his family herded in his direction seemed to aspire to those anorexic standards.
As she bent to hook toward her the silky underthing she had been wearing under the staid business suit, he sat up, too. He put his back against the headboard and let the sheet gather around his hips. “How’s the head?”
“Fine.” She added, as an afterthought, “Thanks.” She was dressing rapidly, sliding into the silk thing with marvelous dexterity. Once she pushed the straps up over her shoulders and brushed her hair back into place, she got to her feet and bent to retrieve her skirt. Her olive skin was pale enough that he thought he could see a faint blush on her cheeks
“Hey,” he said, working to keep his voice low and non-threatening.
She glanced at him and stepped into the skirt. “I have a breakfast meeting,” she said.
It might even be true. For a woman her age to be made a director of anything spoke of wholesale dedication to her career. She wasn’t marking time until she got married and had kids, which many women were who would rather die than admit it out loud.
“Sabrina,” he said, trying again.
She pulled her shirt on and turned to look at him with a resigned expression.
“Last night was great,” he said gently.
“It was,” she agreed evenly. There was wariness in her eyes.
“And now it’s tomorrow,” he said.
She glanced at the clock. “Damn,” she muttered and started buttoning the shirt.
He wasn’t going to be able to compete with the clock or her priorities, he realized. So he got to his feet and moved to stand in front of her. He considered for a moment grabbing a robe and covering up, because naked would put the wrong emphasis on what he wanted to say, but he didn’t know where his robe was. He wasn’t sure he still had one. It had been a long time since he’d used it, if he did.
She bit the corner of her lip and looked at him again. Even with only traces of makeup left, her big, black eyes were still the most arresting feature she had, among a whole swag of more than stellar attributes, including her ability to slap down a challenge and shame a man into trying to win against her.
“I don’t know what last night was,” he said carefully. “Not even on my side of it. It came out of nowhere.”
She let out a breath and nodded. “It did.”
Her admission felt like a tiny victory to him. He held back his reaction. She was on a tight leash as it was. “What happens now…if anything happens now…I’m going to leave up to you,” he said carefully. “Call me. Don’t call me. I’ll cooperate either way.”
For the first time since she had woken, she looked at him with something close to frankness. “So romantic,” she breathed.
He nodded. “It’s not supposed to be. Look, you were dealing with something last night, something that has nothing to do with me. Not yet, anyway. I think…no, I know that for a little while, I helped. Yes?”
Never ask a question you don’t already know the answer to. It was basic trial procedure, one of the few things he had retained from his dusty and interrupted legal training. Only now he was feeling his way, going on instinct. Sabrina defied stereotypes and he had no idea how to deal with her other than making it up as he went. She was that different.
A small smile touched the corner of her generous mouth, lifting it. “Yes, you helped,” she admitted. “Although that wasn’t why I—”
He cut her off with a wave of his hand. “I know that,” he said quickly. “I don’t think either of us knows why we ended up here. We did, though. It was good. It was better than good, Sabrina.”
She was back to studying him with her big eyes, not letting a sliver of her feelings or thoughts show. He imagined there were directors sitting across the board table from her who had faced that expression and felt just as lost.
He ploughed on. All he could do was finish saying what he wanted to say, then leave it up to her. “I don’t know what was going on. It wasn’t just sex and I’d like a chance to figure out what the rest of it was. That is, if you’re at all interested in finding out, too.”
There, he’d said it.
She frowned and opened her mouth to speak and he knew she was going to do the “it’s been great” speech. Disappointment speared him.
It was also when his phone rang, out in the kitchen, where he had dropped it on top of his jacket last night. He wasn’t sure if the perfect timing was a positive or a negative. “I’ll be right back. It’s just… I have to take the call. There aren’t a lot of people who have my phone number and none of them call without a good reason.”
She nodded and started working on the last button on her shirt, her head down.
He hurried into the kitchen, his heart moving way too fast for his liking. What was going on here, really? He barely knew her. It just didn’t feel like any of the thousands of nights he had brought a woman back here and parted on generally friendly terms the next morning. He was being truthful about wanting to figure out what the hell was going on.
It was Graham on the phone. He sighed and answered. “It’s six in the morning. This had better be an emergency,” he said, keeping his voice down.
“You took her home last night?” Graham demanded, his voice just as low and controlled. “Are you out of your tiny little mind?”
Daniel had reported back to Graham, Jake realized with a sinking sensation. Graham did pay his salary, but Jake was still pissed. Most of his anger was fueled by how foolish he felt for not considering this possibility. He had agreed to become more involved in the business. Only his uncle wasn’t going to slip the leash or fail to monitor him until he knew for certain Jake meant it this time.
“She’s a consenting adult and it’s none of your fucking business,” he told Graham, squeezing the phone.
“She’s the Director for Financial Reporting for a company who manages our off-shore investments,” Graham ground out. He was angry, too. “It didn’t occur to you that slipping her one would compromise our working relationship with Wentworth Kumatsu?”
Jake couldn’t help focusing on the crude euphemism. It wasn’t what last night had been. He knew that much. He knew it in his bones. “You’re being paranoid. And you can find Daniel someone else in the family to drive around, too. I don’t like being spied upon.”
Silence. He’d scored a minor point. The silence also confirmed his guess it was Daniel who had run back to Graham with the news about Sabrina.
“I’m only doing what your father would have wanted,” Graham said, his ton
e very even and controlled.
The knot already sitting in the middle of his chest expanded and grew harder and more painful. “Leave my fucking parents out of this,” he ground out, resting his fist on the marble next to his hip. “You’ve got my agreement to learn the family business. So stop playing the guilt card, Graham. It just gets my back up and makes me resent you more than I already do.”
“Then start behaving like you give a damn,” Graham replied. “You’re jeopardizing the family’s reputation by tangling with that bitch and you know it. You’re not stupid. Try to get a clue. If not for your parents, then for Brandy’s sake.”
This time the hurt was white hot and lethal. Jake closed his eyes. “You’re a fucking asshole,” he breathed. “We agreed never to talk about Brandy. I regret ever telling you about her.”
“That was your mistake,” Graham agreed without a trace of regret in his voice. “You know I’m right, so take a pill, take a shower, boot the broad and get your ass into the office, there’s a good boy.”
He hung up before Jake could respond.
Jake resisted the urge to throw the phone as violently as he could against the tiled backsplash. He already went through phones like most people used up cigarette packets because of his off-time activities. Deliberately destroying one would be pointless and probably wouldn’t make him feel any better, anyway.
“Excuse me…I just need to get my briefcase, next to you there,” Sabrina said from behind him.
Oh, shit. He whirled. “How much did you hear?” he demanded, guilt and horror spewing bile through his system.
“Enough,” she said. She bent and picked up the briefcase, lying against the foot of the counter where she had dropped it last night. “Your uncle is right. There is a conflict of interest in us seeing each other.” She said it matter of factly, as she buckled the briefcase closed and slung the strap over her shoulder.
She was fully dressed and it pleased him in a dull, subconscious way that he could very nearly look her in eye when she was wearing high heels. It didn’t happen too often…unless the lady really was a model. Models were freaks of nature.
It was merely a secondary notion. He was still processing her statement about conflicts of interest. “So live dangerously,” he said. “Spice up your life with an illicit affair.” He said it lightly, because in his gut, he knew she was right and so was his uncle. This was a really bad idea, from a business perspective. He had to get better at thinking this sort of shit through.
Her reaction to his joke was odd. She almost winced. “I like boring and buttoned-down.” She gripped the strap with white knuckles. “It was great, thank you, Jake.”
He let out his breath on a sigh. “You’re sure?”
She gave him a smile that was more of a grimace. “Yeah, I think I am.”
“I’ll call for a cab—”
“No, I’d rather walk and find one myself, thanks.” She leaned forward and pressed her warm lips against his cheek. “This would have become complicated,” she breathed by his ear. “We both have way too much baggage.”
She hitched the heavy briefcase back into place, gave him another small smile and left. He watched her hips swing as she walked away, processing the fact that she was leaving and wouldn’t be back.
He had led debating teams at school. He’d aced law exams right up until they kicked him out. So why couldn’t he find a single argument against anything she had said? Why was he even trying to? Let her go and move on, he told himself firmly.
The direction roused as much enthusiasm in him as getting ready for work did. Five o’clock couldn’t get here fast enough to suit him…and it was still only just gone six in the morning.
* * * * *
Sabrina gave the cab driver directions to her apartment building. It was early enough for her to shower and change into clothes no one would remember from the previous day and return to the office in time for a Danish and coffee at her desk, along with the morning’s emails.
In the cab, she reactivated her phone. Because of the prestige of the client they had been dining with, she and Cory had turned their phones off. Nothing created a worse impression than leaving a client to play with breadsticks while talking or texting with someone else. She had forgotten to turn it back on last night in all the…excitement.
Sabrina scrolled through messages, emails, texts and alerts, her heart starting to thud unhappily. She had missed her nine o’clock coffee meeting with Harold. She had stood him up. She had never missed an appointment. She had always cancelled, if she really had to. She had never just failed to show up. This time, though, the appointment had evaporated clean out of her head.
Get a grip, girl, she told herself. Today was a new day. Even though it had gotten off to a rotten start, she still had time to make it a winner day. Even small achievements counted, including getting through her day without missing another appointment.
Guilt squirmed in her belly.
Why on earth had she behaved so…oddly? Nothing she had done last night from the moment she had stepped into the restaurant had been usual. She was supposed to be level-headed and logical. A strong manager.
At least Cory hadn’t seen her fall into Jake’s limousine and become the next bimbo on his string.
And who the hell was Brandy?
The name made her think of models and leggy, rich women with drawling accents and extended wardrobes. Blonde, of course. Someone who played the game with flair and powerful self-interest. She was probably into Jake for some of his millions.
Except there had been real emotion in his voice when he’d warned his uncle to leave Brandy out of it.
So who was Brandy?
Whoever she was, it was part of Jake’s baggage, the history that would have just screwed up everything, sometime down the road, just as hers would. Had she really seriously considered taking him up on his offer to see where things went?
Stupid, stupid, stupid. And they talked about men being lead around by their cocks….
By the time she reached the apartment, her temper was simmering nicely, stirred into a bubbling mess by her guilt and self-flagellation. So when she walked into the apartment and found Nyanther standing at the dining table honing the edge of a short sword, with his duffel bag open and showing a dozen other blades and weapons among the shirts and jeans, she fired from the hip. Again.
“You’re going somewhere?” she asked sharply.
“Up toward Buffalo,” he said, his deep voice rolling out of his chest with the rich cadences of someone who had spent more than a few years in Britain. “We’re following up on a gargoyle that—”
“I don’t need the details,” she said, cutting him off. “It’s enough to know I won’t have to put up with you for a few days. It will be a few days, right?”
He put the sword down, studying her with his colorless eyes and frowning. Then he did something strange. He sniffed. Then he smiled. “You’ve had sex recently. Last night, I would guess, as you’re wearing the same clothes you left in yesterday.”
The unexpectedness of his observation caught her by surprise. She could feel her cheeks heating with a rare embarrassment. “Even if I had, is there a point to mentioning it?” she demanded, pulling her jacket around her. She wanted to fasten the buttons, only it would say far too much about what she was feeling. It was bad enough she was clutching it in front of her like a shield.
His smile grew broader. “I have to wonder what sent you hurrying out into the night to trip the nearest biddable male.”
Astonishment warred with her embarrassment. “You think this is all about you?” She rolled her eyes. “Why am I not surprised? You’re male. You were male. Your ego hasn’t been dented an inch, though, has it?” She poured as much derision into her tone as she could manage.
Nyanther moved. She had forgotten how fast vampires could move if they didn’t care about being seen. Inside a heartbeat he had moved across the room from where the teak dining table sat in the corner by the window, all the way to where she
was standing by the armchair and lamp. Except he didn’t stop there. He pushed her up against the bookcase behind her, making it rock on its base and several of the books to tilt forward and fall.
It happened so fast, she only figured out what he’d done after she was pressed up against the bookcase, his arm across her throat. She was so surprised, a little soundless shriek escaped her.
Her heart raced as she remembered that vampires were dangerous. They fed on humans. They were far more powerful than the average human and they held themselves outside human laws. They were unaccountable—at least, vampires other than Nick and Damian, who embraced humanity with glee.
She didn’t know Nyanther. She didn’t know the shadowy, risk-filled world he moved in, that Riley and the others had one foot in while pretending to be human at all other times.
He leaned forward and sniffed her again. “Frightened?” he breathed and it sounded as though her fear amused him.
“Yes,” she said, as firmly as she could manage. “You know I am. You did that deliberately.”
“It stopped you from heading any farther down the path you were following.” He moved his arm away from her throat. Instead, he gripped the edge of the bookshelf behind her shoulders, which boxed her in just as efficiently. It didn’t help her heart slow down at all.
“What do you want?”
He shook his head. “That’s a question you should ask yourself.”
She swallowed. “I don’t understand.” And she didn’t. That was the problem with Riley’s hunter world. There was just too much of it she didn’t understand. That she didn’t want to understand.
“Your temper was roused when you left yesterday afternoon,” he said, his voice low. “You had meetings. You said you were late. So you were rushed. Then you bedded a man. You’re not a woman who grabs the nearest male and holds him down when the itch rises, so something happened yesterday that made you do it. It might have been me, except that contrary to your opinion, my ego is not so large I would assume the threat of a kiss from me would cause you to run amok as you did.”
Sabrina's Clan Page 5
