The Tycoon's Temptation (HQR Silhouette Desire)

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The Tycoon's Temptation (HQR Silhouette Desire) Page 11

by Katherine Garbera


  He wasn’t happy about admitting even to himself that part existed. He wasn’t about to let Lily find it. He wasn’t about to parade out all of his foibles even for Lily. “Is that what you are trying to reach?”

  She glanced away, a pink blush spreading up her cheeks. His erection stirred beneath the sheets; he was too damned old to be ruled by his groin.

  “I’ll settle for whatever I can get from you, Preston.”

  “What if all I offer is passion?” he demanded. He’d been foolish to think that sleeping with Lily would be the answer to the questions plaguing him. Though he now knew how exquisitely they fitted together he still had no idea how to relate to her.

  She bit her lip. “I’ll take it but I want more.”

  “I don’t have more.”

  “I don’t know where we stand now.”

  He didn’t, either. But he was the experienced one, and for once he thought he might have the upper hand with Lily. “We’re having an affair.”

  “For how long?”

  “However long it lasts.”

  “And if that isn’t enough.”

  “It will be,” he said.

  She left the bed, picking up his shirt from the floor and slipping it on. She looked lost and alone. He regretted his honesty but wouldn’t take back the words. She’d get bored with him. There was a big empty hole inside of him that couldn’t be filled, and though he was content with that emptiness, he knew from the past that women weren’t.

  He watched her go into the bathroom, listened to the sounds of her shower, knew he had to get up. He entered the bathroom and gathered his shaving gear, preparing to use one of the other staterooms.

  But he’d been alone all of his life and would be alone again, he knew. For a few more weeks or months, whatever time Lily had to spend with him, he wanted to wallow in the sunlight she’d brought to his life. He couldn’t do that on his own. He couldn’t do that in another stateroom. He could only do that with her.

  He entered the shower. Lily’s eyes widened as he stepped inside, and for a moment he was afraid she wouldn’t come into his arms, but as he spread them wide she didn’t hesitate. He held her with a desperation he hoped she wouldn’t notice and then loved her as if she was the only woman on the planet, and for a while he believed she was.

  Lily tried to hurry through the cleaning of an eighteenth-century chandelier but she knew that a quality job took time. She should have finished the chandelier two weeks ago, but she’d been spending every free minute with Preston. Although his schedule was much more demanding than hers, she knew she couldn’t keep giving unconditionally.

  A glance at the clock told her it was time to wrap up for the night. It was November 1, All Saints’ Day, and she’d visited her parents’ gravesites that morning to deck the tombs with flowers. Tonight she’d convinced Preston to visit one of the candlelight vigils held in one of the older cemeteries in the city.

  Already night was beginning to fall and the sounds from the French Quarter beckoned. She grabbed one of Dash’s jackets and headed outside to wait for Preston. November had a chill that made her long for the humidity of September.

  Last night for Halloween she’d asked Pres to dress as a vampire and help her hand out candy to the local kids at the school gym, knowing this would be a first for him. He’d agreed without any hesitation and had donated electronic toys for each of the seven hundred children who’d preregistered. Preston had made her agree to play Lady Godiva alone for him in her house after they’d returned home. Remembering his passion made her smile.

  There was more to the arrogant person Preston wanted the world to see. Slowly he was letting his guard down, and each new layer he revealed made her love him more. She was working on the love dare and felt as if she was getting close to a breakthrough. He no longer seemed so distant and often prompted her for the quote of the day.

  He’d even surprised her by spending an evening on her front porch wrapped in her arms while he read her poetry from Lord Byron. His warm, dark voice swirled through her mind. With a few nudges Preston could be a very romantic person.

  He pulled up in his fancy car and called to her from the open window.

  “Lily, you ready?”

  She walked to the car and got in. The sounds of the Dave Matthews Band filled the air. She loved the jazz band and had given Preston one of their CDs. He’d gone out and bought every CD the band had made and tried to give them to her. Uncomfortable accepting presents, especially from him, she’d returned them. Slowly all of them were ending up at her house or in her possession by default.

  “Have you heard this one? It’s another live album.”

  “It’s good.”

  “I’m sure we won’t be able to listen to the whole thing tonight. Metarie Cemetery is only a short drive across the city. You can take it home with you tonight.”

  “I’m not taking the CD, but I’ll take you.”

  “Not unless I take you first.”

  He leaned over for a quick, thorough kiss that left her feeling branded. He glanced over his shoulder and pulled out onto the street and headed for the cemetery. All Saints’ Day was celebrated in unique fashion in the Crescent City. She’d been going to the evening celebrations since she was a little girl and still cried when she remembered the first of November, the year her parents’ died.

  “Looking forward to tonight?” she asked, as he finally found a place to park the car.

  “I have to admit it creeps me out.”

  “A little?”

  “A lot,” he said with a laugh.

  A group of people passed them with flowers in their hands. Preston tugged her close to his side, slinging his arm around her shoulder.

  She’d brought chrysanthemums earlier to her parents’ sites. And she wondered if Preston had anyone to remember. He spoke of his father as if the man were dead, but she really knew nothing of his family.

  They’d entered the cemetery, which used to be a racetrack way back in the late 1800s before being converted to a graveyard. Slowly they walked hand in hand through the candlelit plots, pausing to read inscriptions and listening to the conversations of those keeping vigil.

  “I’ve always used this time of year to remember people I’ve lost, regardless of whether they’re buried in New Orleans or not.”

  “Who are you remembering this year?” he asked quietly.

  “My friends Pam and Carol.” She still saw their smiling faces and remembered the good times with them. It was kind of cleansing to share her memories of them with Preston. She talked about them for a few minutes, knowing they would have liked Preston.

  “Who are you remembering?” she asked.

  “This is your tradition not mine.”

  “Have you lost anyone close to you?” she asked. She knew he was uncomfortable with the topic, but she wanted to know more of his past. Never had she met anyone who ignored it the way he did.

  “I don’t think I have.”

  “What about your parents? Your dad’s dead, isn’t he?”

  “Yes. My mother is, too. But we were never close.”

  She started to ask another question but he placed his fingers over her lips so softly. She looked into those gray-lake eyes of his and for once they didn’t seem frozen. “Have I told you how lovely you are tonight?”

  She shook her head, letting him change the topic she so desperately wanted to pursue. She knew the key to teaching him to love was in the past but she’d yet to find it.

  “Well, you are exquisite.”

  “Oh, Preston, you say the silliest things.”

  “I don’t.”

  But he did. She was an average, ordinary girl—the girl next door—and he always made her feel like a fairy princess. Even tonight, surrounded by the crowds at Metarie, she felt like the only woman in the world beautiful enough for him. She was ready to go home with him. To reaffirm the bond that she knew was growing between them. To make love with the man who’d taken over her heart.

  “I have one mor
e thing to show you, then let’s go home.”

  “Let’s hurry.”

  She led him to a rather plain-looking tomb. The flickering candlelight made it hard to see the inscription, but Lily had tucked a small flashlight into her jacket pocket before leaving her shop.

  The words were simple. A large tomb that held the bodies of…

  Two Lovers United on Earth, Together for Eternity.

  “What do you think?” she said, sniffing a little at the injustice of a couple dying when they were only twenty and twenty-two.

  “That you are one in a million.”

  Lily knew then that a real chink had opened in Preston’s armor. Loving him was bringing him closer to her, and she wouldn’t stop until he could see what she’d only just realized. They were a couple for all time. With that magical love that would outlast time.

  Eleven

  Preston had made two trips to the office, even though it was Thanksgiving. When he returned the second time, he found himself surrounded by Lily’s family.

  Mae, her assistant, and Jim, Mae’s husband, had arrived with a store-bought pie and a bottle of domestic wine. Her neighbors, the Conroys, a golden anniversary couple, had arrived next. Preston had found himself seated on the couch next to Mr. Conroy, listening to tales of his courtship of Annabelle and how he’d convinced her to marry him.

  Lily’s family was a little intimidating. They were all so protective of her that he felt uncomfortable. Like the cold seducer he’d started out being. He couldn’t explain to them what he didn’t understand, but he knew that Lily meant more to him than only nights of pleasure.

  He felt like a heartless Casanova who’d coaxed their little lamb out into the cold, dark world and taken advantage of her. Even though he knew Lily had come to him of her own free will.

  Business was the one thing he could count on. The closer Lily got to him the faster he wanted to retreat. She’d refused to let him sleep over last night with her brothers at home. She didn’t want to give them the wrong impression.

  He didn’t have the heart to tell her that they weren’t fooling anyone. Dash and Beau knew he was more to their sister than a business associate. Her grandmother, a young-looking sixty-eight-year-old, had waved her arms around him and read his aura.

  She’d stared into his eyes and muttered something in a language he couldn’t recognize.

  “You’ve got potential,” she said before walking away.

  It had been a bit of a weird experience, and Preston would take on both of the brothers with one arm tied behind his back before he allowed Lily’s crazy grandmother to corner him again.

  “Pres, would you give me a hand in the kitchen, carving the turkey?”

  He followed her down the short hallway, aware of Dash glaring daggers in his back the entire way. “You’re not doing me any favors by alienating your brother.”

  “Don’t be silly. Dash likes you.”

  “He’d like to see me staked out in the sun.”

  “I told him we were friends.”

  “Men aren’t fooled by that old line.”

  “But they can be fooled into believing love exists.”

  “Lily…”

  “I know. I’ll leave it be. There’s the bird. Do you know how to carve it? I saved a page from a magazine with the proper instructions.”

  “I’ve never done it before.”

  “Do you always eat out on the holidays?”

  “Sometimes. But when I’m home, my cook takes care of this.”

  “Oh, should I go get Dash?” she asked. He knew she’d be disappointed if he said yes. And he didn’t want to disappoint Lily.

  “No, I’ll do it.”

  It felt strange but also right to be carving the turkey. An image danced through his mind’s eye of Lily and him and a brood of kids filling the kitchen. He blinked. He wasn’t a family man, dammit.

  He finished cutting the bird per the instructions. Lily slid up behind him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He wanted more. He wished her family and friends were somewhere else so that he could take Lily here, in the kitchen, with the savory smells filling the air.

  “Good job,” she said.

  He bent and took her mouth in the kiss he’d been craving since he’d been banished last night. “I can do better.”

  “Pres, we have a houseful of people.”

  “They wouldn’t miss me.”

  “I think Humberto would.”

  Preston had talked briefly with Lily’s grandmother’s husband. He was an interesting man who’d been an investment banker for thirty years.

  “Your brothers wouldn’t,” he said wryly. There was something unnerving about the two intense young men who’d been tag-teaming him. Asking discreetly about his intentions and promising retribution if he made Lily cry. It had made him realize that he didn’t want to ever make her cry.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. You’re their pretty sister, and they’re worried about you.”

  She blushed at the compliment and stood on her tiptoes to brush a kiss against his jaw. Desire tingled to life, and his pulse beat heavier.

  “It’s because they love me.”

  “Not today, Lily. Please don’t start on love today.” Especially not while he held her in his arms. She felt small and vulnerable, though he knew she took strength from having those she cared about around her.

  “Why not?”

  Preston felt his pager vibrate at his waist. Saved by the bell, he thought. He let go of Lily to read his alpha page.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  “I just got paged,” he said, reaching for his cell phone. Thank God. He’d had enough of hearing about happily ever after and how he’d better treat Lily right. He needed a break. But Lily was staring up at him with those beautiful blue eyes of hers, and he knew he wouldn’t leave if she asked him to stay.

  “On Thanksgiving? That’s ridiculous.”

  “The resort industry is busy on holidays.” Which was true.

  “Is there a problem at one of your domestic resorts?”

  He shook his head. “I like to have the general managers to call me every two hours with updates. I’ll just go out to my car and make the calls.”

  “Preston, you’re not leaving again.”

  “Why not?” he asked. He knew what a caged animal felt like, because he was trapped and walls were closing in.

  “It’s Thanksgiving. You don’t have to return calls.”

  “Lily, I have to—”

  “Please, Preston.”

  She’d never really asked him for anything before and he knew he couldn’t tell her no. He nodded because he felt raw and aching, realizing for the first time what had been missing all of his life. He knew that there was no way he could make it last. Knew there was no price he could pay to convince Lily to leave this all behind and travel with him throughout the world.

  Lily wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly. His own arms hung limply by his sides. Fear swamped him, and he was afraid to touch her. Afraid to reach out because she might disappear. Afraid to trust in the dream he’d only just realized he’d been searching for all his life.

  He was startled to understand that he wouldn’t mind staying here. That he would gladly give up the hotels and traveling, the excitement of being a mover and shaker in the hotel industry, if he could be guaranteed a lifetime with Lily.

  But he also knew he wouldn’t take the chance. Wouldn’t risk what he knew couldn’t come true. What Lily had never understood was that he knew life held no happy endings for spoiled rich boys who’d grown into cold men.

  The thousand-year-old oaks that lined the driveway to White Willow House were creepy in the dark, Lily thought as she drove past them. The big circular drive that would welcome guests in just a few days was empty. Her old Chevy chugged to a halt in front of the Doric columns.

  She’d miss this place once the job was completed. She wondered if Preston would still be in her life. A big part of her believed she�
�d made some progress in convincing him love existed, but another part knew he was a man who lived in the eternal present and always looked forward. He’d made a few vague references to his next resort in Barbados.

  As sure as she’d been that she could convince him to love, it was hard to admit defeat. And most of the times it didn’t feel as if she was losing the bet, losing the chance of a lifetime she’d been given. But other times her affection for him seemed doomed. Maybe it was the big oaks and weeping willows on the shoreline of his man-made lake that were influencing her feelings.

  The landscape at White Willow House harkened back to the days of arranged marriages and illicit trysts between quadroons and upper-crust gentlemen. Though not a true Creole, she felt like one in her blood, and she wondered if her commoner status affected Preston’s ability to love her.

  A security guard rapped on her window, startling Lily into movement. Enough of these thoughts.

  “You okay, Ms. Stone?”

  “Yes, Jeff. I could use a hand with the writing desk and George I chair in the back of the truck.”

  “I’ll help. I’m afraid most everyone has gone home for the night.”

  “I think we can handle it. I’m stronger than I look.”

  That’s right, she thought. She was stronger than she looked. Strong enough to make even the hardest heart crack open and believe in love.

  With Jeff’s help she got the George I writing bureau to the owner’s suite and situated. Jeff left her alone in the suite of rooms she’d created for Preston’s personal use. The resort would have its grand opening on New Year’s Eve only ten days from now. Tickets had been sold out for weeks and Preston had asked Lily to spend the night in the suite she’d created just for him.

  In the weeks since Thanksgiving they’d grown closer and she knew he’d begun to need her the way she needed him. Loving Pres was hard. But worth the effort. He was coming to appreciate the little things in life and had stopped trying to buy her affections.

 

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