Making You Mine – the Bradens & Montgomerys (Pleasant Hill – Oak Falls)

by Melissa Foster

  “Wow. Those are gorgeous,” Libby said. “May I?”

  Aubrey shrugged and held out the box for Libby to feel the material.

  “That’s Agent Provocateur,” Presley said as she admired the lingerie. “It’s made with French lace. Gorgeous. The man has—”

  “Invaded my personal space and my privacy.” Aubrey snapped the lid back on the box, trying to ignore her racy thoughts of Knox tearing them off her.

  “And I’m about to invade it even more.”

  They all spun around at the sound of Knox’s deep, sexy voice. There he stood, six-plus feet of gorgeousness, clad in a black leather jacket, jeans, and black boots that probably cost more than Aubrey’s desk. A charming smile lifted his lips as he said, “Hello, ladies.”

  “Hi,” Presley and Libby said in unison, both of them all agog over him.

  “Knox.” The breathless sound of attraction in her voice annoyed the shit out of Aubrey. She squared her shoulders and said, “What are you doing here?”

  “I knew you wouldn’t sleep until you found the right location for the movie,” he said as he closed the distance between them, his gaze never wavering from hers. “I happen to know the perfect place. I texted to tell you I was on my way upstairs.” He eyed her phone with a shake of his head. “Pack your bags, babe. We’re taking a little road trip.”

  “Wha…? I can’t take a road trip.” If he kept looking at her like he wanted to devour her, she wasn’t going to be able to form another sentence. Why did he have this power over her? She shifted her eyes to the desk and said, “Thank you for the gifts, but can’t you see I’m busy? We’re in a meeting.”

  His gorgeous eyes swept over their wineglasses. “I can see that.”

  “How did you even know I was at the office?” She glanced at her desk, loaded up with his thoughtful—and presumptuous—gifts. Libby was right. Most guys would just send flowers, but Knox knew just how to rev her up. She couldn’t deny the way her body had reacted at the thought of his hot hands tearing that slinky lingerie off her.

  “Loose lips, remember? You always have drinks with the girls on Friday evenings.” He cleared his throat and said, “I mean, you always hold meetings with Presley and Libby on Fridays.”

  “Busted,” Presley said. “Well, I have to take off and meet my man, so she’s free from my tethers.”

  Aubrey glared at her.

  “Me too,” Libby said cheerily. “Not to meet my man, but I have a…We have…I have a thing to take care of.”

  Libby sucked at lying. Damn her for choosing to do it now.

  “Nice to see you both,” Knox said as Presley grabbed the wine and their glasses.

  After they left, Knox stepped closer, settling his hands on Aubrey’s hips, and said, “Nice to see you, beautiful.” He dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers.

  Aubrey did not kiss him back, earning a frown.

  “Aw, ease up, Aubrey. How can you be mad?”

  “You sent me gifts.” And it totally threw me off-balance.

  “Most women would simply say thank you.”

  “We don’t have a gift-giving relationship, and we don’t have a surprise-visit relationship, either. We don’t have a relationship. Period.” She turned out of his arms and walked around her desk, hating to be so harsh, but she needed to remain focused on work.

  He followed, bringing his sinful scent with him. The sexy bastard.

  “We have a relationship, Aubrey, even if, until now, it has been more casual. But it’s time to change that.”

  She turned toward him and crossed her arms, needing the barrier between them, because her insides were going all mushy at his romantic efforts. “I told you I don’t have time for drama in my life. I have a business to run and continue to build, and this”—she waved at the gifts—“is drama to the max.”

  He smiled. “This is affection.”

  “Affection my ass.” She knew it was a bitchy thing to say and that he was trying to show her another side of himself, but already this little show of his had sidetracked her from the job she was supposed to be doing—searching for a resort for Charlotte’s movie so they didn’t lose the A-list actors they’d secured.

  “I adore your ass,” he said seductively. He leaned closer, brushing his lips beside her ear, and whispered, “And all the affectionate things you allow me to do to it.”

  “Knox” slipped out weakly. This was her domain, where she was in control. It was so foreign to her to be weak-kneed in her office that she quickly stepped back, speaking firmly as she said, “Knox, this is how drama starts. First it’s gifts, then dinners. Then it’s ‘Move in with me,’ then, ‘You work too much,’ or ‘You’re always traveling,’ and we grow to resent each other. Then I find you in bed with another woman, and…See? Drama!”

  His face blanched. “Aubrey, has some asshole done that to you?”

  “Good God, no. But I work in media. It happens all the time.”

  He threw his head back with a hearty laugh. “In movies maybe, but most of the guys I know aren’t assholes. And your life isn’t a movie. If some guy hasn’t scorned you, why are you still bucking the idea of us?”

  “I didn’t work this hard to get where I am just so I could become a baby maker or a woman whose career comes second to a man’s. I like who I am alone, Knox. I like my life with no one telling me what to do or that I need to change.”

  His jaw tightened, and his eyes grew even more determined.

  She shifted her eyes away, catching sight of a picture of her with her brothers after Joe’s Super Bowl win, reminding her of all the reasons she’d fought so hard to become the successful businesswoman she was. “Think of me as a lone wolf.”

  “Wow. You’ve got me all figured out, all right,” he said. “The old ball and chain who wants you barefoot and pregnant. The guy who wants to keep you from becoming the best person you could be, because you know, I get off on that shit.”

  He walked over to the windowsill and picked up a picture of her with Presley and Libby. They were standing outside the LWW building, beneath the LWW Enterprises sign, smiling proudly. It was taken the day they opened the doors to LWW. She couldn’t think of a single prouder moment than that one, when their dreams had come to fruition. It had taken hard work and dedication to get where they were, to repay the loans and build their stellar reputations in several cutthroat, male-dominated industries. No way was she going to get sidetracked now.

  He held up the picture and said, “I hate to tell you this, babe, but you’re already part of a pack. And a damn fine one at that.” He set the frame on the sill, rolled his shoulders back, and said, “With your lone-wolf image shattered, how about we just agree to disagree? Go pack your shit, and we’ll get out of here so you can see how perfect the Monroe House is for the movie location.”

  Business. This she could handle.

  “I appreciate your efforts, and you have impeccable taste,” she admitted. “The Monroe House was my first choice. But I’ve already spoken to Vincent Monroe, the director of public affairs, and he shut me down completely. He said they no longer allow the media onto their grounds.”

  “Vincent,” he said under his breath. That cocky grin slid back into place. “I’ve got an in with the owners. Pack your bags, babe, because I can make this happen.”

  “Seriously?” She knew Knox had connections all over the world and she shouldn’t be surprised he knew the owners of the elite resort, but she wanted it so badly, she could hardly believe her luck.

  “No. I’m going to take you out to a remote inn and keep you captive as my sex slave for the weekend, and I figured lying to you was the best way to get you there. Of course seriously. Come on, Stewart. Let’s go.”

  The resort was two and a half hours away. Plus she’d need time to meet the owners, who would probably be gone by the time they got there. Her hopes deflated. She’d almost believed he was trying to help.

  “Knox, I’m sure the owners will be gone by the time we arrive. Maybe you should reach o
ut to them first,” she suggested.

  “They live there, and I’ve already told them we’re coming.”

  “They live there?” Okay, so maybe he was trying to help, but Vincent had been very clear with her. “Why bother if they’ll just say no?”

  He crossed his arms and sat on the edge of her desk. “You really have very little faith in me. That’s surprising, considering you trust me with every inch of your body. This type of negotiation is best handled in person, and I know these people. They need to be finessed. We have a breakfast meeting early tomorrow morning, and I didn’t think you would want to risk getting caught in traffic and being late or missing the meeting.” He pushed to his feet and said, “Or you can take your chances. Maybe you’ll find a second-rate place. It’s up to you.”

  She was already getting excited about the possibility of securing the Monroe House. That location would blow this movie out of the water. It was the equivalent of a Sterling House doppelgänger, the perfect setting. “Separate rooms?”

  “Why on earth would you want that when you know we’ll just end up in one?”

  He had her there. Maybe they could accomplish this as a team. “Do you really think you can change their minds?”

  “I never lose a negotiation.”

  “God, you’re cocky.” And she loved it.

  “Do you mean cocky, as in my”—his gaze dropped to the impressive package bulging behind his zipper—“or cocky as in arrogant? Because I can see how either would fit here.”

  She stifled a laugh, knowing she was in big trouble, because his personality was what she craved even more than their incredibly hot sex. She picked up the bouquet of Cheetos and roses and thrust it into his hands. “Those are coming with us. I’ll grab the soda.”

  He reached for the box of lingerie and the lipstick. “Let’s not forget the good stuff.”

  AUBREY’S HOUSE WAS nothing like Knox had imagined, which would have been something classy and understated, like her. Surely not a stately stone mansion that had to be well over ten thousand square feet, with enough glass to feel like he was outdoors and a grand view of the Hudson River. Mocha hardwood floors shone throughout the expansive and pristine living room, which led out to a slate patio and a built-in pool. Bright white Scandinavian-style furniture with sleek lines and extra-deep cushions were accented by luxuriously crafted black glass end tables. Plush area rugs boasted vibrant gray, white, and black abstracts. The walls held black-and-white museum-worthy pictures, crystal-and-gold chandeliers hung from elaborate ceilings, and arched entryways with intricately carved moldings led to adjoining rooms.

  Aubrey tossed her purse on an expensive-looking table by the door with a sigh and said, “It’ll take me only a minute to gather a few things.”

  “Your house is incredible, and a little surprising.” As one of the world’s wealthiest women, Aubrey deserved such a house, even if it showed Knox an unexpected side of her. The river view was the only thing he didn’t find surprising. He’d imagined Aubrey to be a water lover. It was easy to picture her lying out in a bikini, her long legs stretched out before her as she read a script or strategized her next big move for the company. It wasn’t a far reach to imagine her frolicking in the ocean on some faraway beach, riding waves, or even sailing. Sure, outside of the free-spirited lovemaker she was in bed, she tried to come across as all business, but there was no mistaking the mischievous glimmer behind those amber eyes. It was the first thing that had attracted him to her, second only to the way she’d sidled up to him as they’d left the charity event the night they first met two years ago and said, I’m in the capital suite, flashing that confident, stunning smile that had piqued his interest even before his cock got the message about her sexy invitation. Aubrey was a woman who knew exactly what she wanted in life, and she didn’t hesitate to go after it—just like him.

  She waved a hand dismissively. “I couldn’t let my brothers have the biggest houses, could I?”

  “A little friendly competition?” he asked with a laugh, following her through the living room to a grand staircase. “What do your brothers do when they’re not playing football?”

  “Get on my nerves, mostly.” She glanced over her shoulder and said, “Make yourself at home down here.”

  “What? I don’t get to see your bedroom?” he asked with more than a hint of innuendo.

  “Ha! You’re lucky I let you in here. I don’t make a habit of bringing men into my personal space.”

  “Ah, I get it.” He took a few steps back. “You don’t trust yourself with all this.” He gestured at his body. “I don’t blame you. It’s a lot to resist.” He winked and walked away chuckling as she stalked upstairs.

  Knox wandered around the luxurious first floor. The house was impeccably clean, every surface shining. The kitchen was bigger than any he’d ever seen, outfitted with several ovens, custom cabinetry—all white like the rest of the house. He flipped open a cabinet, eyeing the neatly stacked china. Her house looked unlived in, which reminded him of the home in which he’d grown up. His gut clenched with memories of his stifled childhood, when proper etiquette and black-tie dinners took precedence over everything else. Could he have completely misjudged who Aubrey was at her core?

  He meandered through a handsome library outfitted in rich mahogany to a room that looked like an art gallery, and down the hall he found another large room outfitted with leather chairs, a gorgeous pool table, and an expansive, fully stocked bar. With each elaborately decorated room, his gut clenched tighter.

  At the end of the hall he came to a set of intricately carved doors. If he were a real gentleman, he’d turn around and leave those doors closed. But his curiosity was far stronger than his desire to be chivalrous, and he pulled them open, revealing a gigantic—and treacherously messy—media room.

  He flicked the light switch, and a ring of neon purple lights illuminated a black arched ceiling with tiny inset lights, like a planetarium. He couldn’t stifle his grin. This was nothing like the theater room in his childhood home. Oversized couches were littered with Cheetos bags, candy wrappers, and soda bottles. Books and magazines were strewn across the floor and coffee table, along with a half-empty bowl of popcorn and a handful of remotes. Piled on the couch cushions were a quilt and several New York Jets and Giants blankets, the teams her brothers played for. A bedroom pillow was squished against the arm of the couch, as if Aubrey frequently slept there.

  Well, well, sweetheart. Looks like I didn’t read you wrong after all. You’re just secretly comfortable. He wondered who she entertained that she had to keep the rest of her house in such immaculate condition.

  And then he wondered about her bedroom…

  Was she her messy, comfortable self in there?

  He plunked himself down on the couch only to jump up when something poked him in the back. He snagged a book sticking out from between the cushions. Wicked Envy by Sawyer Bennett. He leafed through the dog-eared pages and found several erotic scenes underlined. “My girl likes to study. Nice…”

  He set the book down and hit play on the remote that looked most like it would work the television. The overhead ring of purple dimmed, and tiny purple dots appeared on the walls. Funky. I like it. He tried another remote, and the projector came to life.

  Knox picked up the bowl of popcorn, tossed a handful in his mouth, wincing at how stale it was, and settled back to watch Some Kind of Wonderful. Man, he’d forgotten how cheesy the movie was. The hair! The clothes! He chuckled to himself.

  “Dude,” he said to the screen a few minutes later. “Can’t you see she’s crazy about you?”

  “What are you doing?” Aubrey walked in looking hot in a pair of skinny jeans, knee-high boots with fur around the tops, and an off-the-shoulder sweater. She frantically began picking up her mess.

  “You said to make myself at home, Wattsy,” he said with a snicker. Her wide eyes told him she knew he was referring to the best friend who was helping the nerdy boy get a date with the popular girl in the movie sh
e’d left in the projector.

  He turned off the movie and pushed to his feet to set down the popcorn bowl. He spotted another paperback on the floor, picked it up, and waved it at her. “I find these very interesting. Let’s see…Beg Me by Jennifer Probst. Let me guess. Erotic romance? Underlined passages?”

  She groaned and lunged for the book. He pulled it out of reach and swept his other arm around her waist. “No wonder you’re so good in the sack.”

  “It’s my job,” she said, straining for the book.

  He arched a brow.

  “Reading, not being good in bed!” She wrenched free of his grip and grabbed the book. “Oh man. This was a good one. Almost as good as Charlotte’s Wicked Boys After Dark series.”

  “I’ll show you wicked.” He reached for her again and she dodged him, laughing as she bent to retrieve candy wrappers from the floor. He couldn’t resist smacking her ass.

  “Stop! I’m usually not this messy.”

  “Uh-huh. The rest of the house made me wonder if I’d mistakenly wanted to date Felix Unger. I’m relieved to see you’re more like Oscar Madison.”

  “Haha.” She tossed the book on the couch and carried the candy wrappers to the trash can. “I have to keep the rest of the house clean for when I host holidays.”

  “You mean like Christmas?”

  “No. I mean like the second Monday of the month. Of course Christmas. Do you want to go, or do you want to harass me?”

  “I like this. I’m learning a lot about you. For instance”—he followed her out of the room and down the hall—“you keep your house immaculate for eleven months out of the year so you’ll be prepared for one holiday.”

  She glared at him. “I don’t use the rest of the house. I’m one person. What am I going to do, entertain myself and sit properly in the living room? Give me a break.”

  He carried her bag out to the car, and when they settled into their seats, she said, “See? I’m not a good candidate for your baby-making mama, so you can take me off your dating list.”