Tycoon For Auction (HQR Silhouette Desire)

by Katherine Garbera

  “Yes. I’ll pick you up.”

  “I’ll fix dinner for us.”

  “You can cook?” He was surprised, because Corrine was a workaholic with little time or interest in anything that wouldn’t further her career. He couldn’t imagine her taking time to learn to fix food.

  “Well, no, not really. But I thought I’d give it a try.”

  She sounded abashed and that hadn’t been his intent. As always when he cared about someone, he bumbled around, unintentionally hurting them. “You don’t have to. I’ll pick up some sushi on my way over. We can eat in the park before going to the movie.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked.

  “I wouldn’t have said so if I wasn’t.”

  “Sorry about that,” she said with a little laugh. But it wasn’t her normal one.

  “What’s up with you, Cori?”

  Silence grew between them, and he thought she might have hung up before he heard her sigh.

  “Nothing. I just want things to be right between us.”

  Uh-oh. This didn’t sound good. “Is there some reason why they aren’t?”

  “Do you think they aren’t?” she asked.

  “I have no idea what you are asking me,” he said. The only relationships he’d had with women before Corrine had been short-term, red-hot affairs. This was a totally different experience and he had no idea how to handle her in this mood.

  “I guess…I’ve never had a relationship with someone like you.”

  “What’s that mean?” he asked. Had she suspected he had problems that made him inadequate?

  “Just that I don’t want to sabotage things the way I sometimes do.”

  “How do you do that?” he asked. What he really wanted to know was how could he keep from doing that?

  “I’m not sure how I do it. Just that I usually do.”

  “Does it have to do with your parents?” he asked.

  “Maybe,” she said. He heard her chair creak. “I’ve just never wanted anyone to stay around for a while.”

  “I’ve never wanted to stay,” he admitted.

  “Really?”

  She needed something from him, and the tension inside him tautened to the breaking point. Could he promise her something he wasn’t sure he could deliver?

  “I’ve got to go. We can talk later.”

  “’Bye, Rand.”

  Corrine seemed to be acting strangely. Having never been in this kind of intense relationship before he wasn’t sure what the hell was going on. But he hoped to God he would find out.

  The movie had been really good, but then Corrine enjoyed seeing angst on the screen. Sitcoms felt foreign to her; she was a woman traveling through life on her own creating a quasifamily wherever she went.

  Corrine put the coffee cups on a tray and carried it into the living room. As she did she noticed for the first time that her house—her sanctuary—was not a sitcom version of home. She’d created a place of solace for herself.

  “Ready to talk?” she asked as she came into the room. It had seemed to her earlier on the phone that they had turned a corner in their relationship. Realizing she loved Rand had made her want to put down roots.

  But she’d been unable to trust herself and him enough to do that. Until now. She was ready to take the risk. Ready to jump off the cliff and hope that the water would be there. Okay, that was a cliché but it made her feel better to repeat it in her head.

  Rand was standing by her wall of DVDs, scanning the titles. She wondered if he’d stumbled on her secret addiction—black-and-white romantic comedies from the forties. She stored them on the bottom shelf because one of the men she’d dated had called them corny. That might be, but she loved them.

  “Sure,” he said.

  She set the tray on the table and then seated herself on the couch. Rand paced around the room, prowling it like a caged tiger. Okay, maybe tonight wasn’t the night to take her leap.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked. Had she timed it wrong? Were cookies and coffee not the right thing to be serving a man when you wanted to ask him to hang around for longer than the spring?

  “I’m restless. Sorry, it’s a family trait,” he said.

  She realized she knew little of where Rand came from. Angelica had mentioned one time that his family was wealthy and Rand had mentioned a brother, but other than that she knew nothing of who he was. Where had he come from, this man she loved?

  “Do you miss your family?” she asked. Real subtle. Was it any wonder she’d never had any lasting relationships? Her skills at this type of thing were rusty at best. And of course, she’d never wanted a person to stay as much as she wanted Rand to.

  “No,” he said, arching one eyebrow at her. “Should I?”

  She shrugged her shoulder and tugged a strand of hair behind her ear. Now would be a good time for that water to appear, she thought. “We’ve never talked about your family.”

  “What do you want to know about them?” he asked. The intensity in his green eyes unnerved her for a moment. He stopped pacing and stood near her state-of-the-art television.

  “Do you like them?”

  He smiled wryly. “Most of the time.”

  “Is it a large family?” she asked.

  “I’m one of six kids. My father is one of six. My mother, one of two. Her brother is Lord Ashford, a British Peer.”

  She felt kind of small. She didn’t know her ancestry—never would—and she’d told herself it didn’t matter. Only now did she realize she’d been lying to herself. She wanted what he had. She wanted to know where she came from so that some day if she ever had children of her own they wouldn’t feel so adrift in the world. They’d have an anchor linking them to past generations. An anchor that she’d never had.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked.

  No way was she going to point out all the reasons why he shouldn’t be involved with her. Corrine had learned long ago how to ignore the unpleasant parts of her life. The ones that she wanted to stay hidden. Then she focused on the parts she could control. The parts that didn’t give her nightmares.

  “Nothing,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee and burning her tongue.

  “No more questions?” he asked, sinking down next to her on the couch. Memories of the first time they’d made love assailed her. She shifted a little in her seat as lust settled heavily in her veins. Her blood seemed to run heavier and her pulse beat a little faster.

  He slid his arm along the back of the couch, his fingertips caressing the back of her neck with a delicacy that made her shiver.

  “Uh…I can’t think when you touch me.”

  “Good,” he said, leaning over and nibbling on her neck.

  He caressed her through the thin layer of her rayon shirt and silk bra, his big hand encompassing her entire breast, rubbing with a lazy movement that made her believe he’d be happy to spend all evening on the couch petting her. She shifted, pressing her thighs together as an ache started deep inside her.

  It felt as if it had been forever since he’d been joined with her. And she’d missed him. She needed to reassure herself that despite the differences in their backgrounds, Rand and she shared something very right.

  “Do you really want coffee?” he asked.

  She trembled with awareness and let him take her coffee mug from her hand. He hooked his free arm around her and pulled her to him. His eyes narrowed and she sensed that he was trying to distract her. But she didn’t care.

  When Rand touched her, the world glowed with a brightness that her dull gray life had rarely experienced. He made her feel as if there was such a thing as happily ever after and that he could be her Prince Charming.

  Perhaps that was why she loved him. She didn’t know. She only knew that when they were in each other’s arms she forgot that she’d been abandoned too many times to believe that a man—this man—would stay with her forever. She only knew that Rand made her want to forget the lessons she’d learned early on and believe once more in dreams she’d l
ong since stopped having.

  The evening had been too intense. Actually, since that fateful February night when she’d bid on him, Rand’s life had been spinning out of control. The tension inside him was wound so tight he had no reprieve from it.

  Except when he was buried hilt-deep in Corrine’s body. And he knew it was a crutch. A dependence he shouldn’t be forming, but he was a weak man. Never before had one person affected him this deeply. Deep inside, where he hid his fears from the world, he worried that some day she’d be taken from him and his life would be nothing.

  He should get in his car and head home, but he needed Corrine. Her full, luscious mouth was parted and she was sitting so trustingly in his arms. Her scent—that damned spring flower smell—assailed his senses and he knew he wasn’t going anywhere on his own tonight.

  He didn’t question it, just lifted her in his arms and carried her down the dark hallway to her bedroom. He liked her house, felt more at home here than he did at any other place. He’d worked hard to make sure that he didn’t become too connected to any place.

  Here he felt comfortable for once with the illusions of who he was. He felt there was a good chance he could be the man he wanted to be when he was with her, even if he was only doing something as mundane as eating or watching television.

  But tonight comfort was the last thing on his mind. He’d seen Corrine effervescent in the restaurant a few nights ago, clearly an up-and-comer in the business world. He’d seen her strong when he was weak, struggling with something she didn’t understand but still offering her support. And he’d seen her when they’d discussed his family, unsure of herself.

  She’d given him so much he wanted to guarantee that she would never again doubt her worth.

  He set her carefully in the middle of her bed and turned on only one light—a soft one on her dresser. He opened the shades on her windows so the moonlight streamed into the room, as well.

  He needed the shadows now because he wasn’t sure what he felt for Corrine, but it was tearing him in two and he didn’t want her to catch a glimpse of that conflict inside him. He wanted to be her hero, he realized, unable to be vanquished in her eyes.

  She shifted on the bed, kicking her shoes off and stretching her arms above her head with a voluptuousness that made him harden. She’d been acting strangely since her call earlier this afternoon. Unsure of himself in this mood of hers, he knew he needed to be in control. Needed to control not only the hunger deep inside him but also the reactions of the woman who was soliciting this reaction from him.

  “Where are those stockings you had on the other night?” he asked. Since he’d seen her in them and felt the lace rubbing against his skin as they’d made love, he’d had an incredible urge to use them to bind her to the bed.

  “Which ones?” she asked.

  “The thigh-high ones you wore that night you tied me up,” he said.

  “In the top right-hand drawer. Why?” she asked. She sat up on the bed and watched him.

  He shrugged at her. “I’m ready for it to be my turn.”

  “Your turn at what?” she asked. He hid a smile as he turned and rummaged through her dresser. Corrine liked to be in control of everything and she was damned good at it. Sometimes he thought she did it too well.

  “Being the master.”

  “The master?” she asked.

  He arched one eyebrow at her. “What would you call it?”

  “I don’t know. I wish you wouldn’t say it like that,” she said, sounding more surly than argumentative.

  “Do you object?” he asked, finding the hose in her lingerie drawer. There were several colorful scarves in the drawer as well and he removed an especially soft silk one.

  “No,” she said.

  He sank down to the bed beside her and started to unbutton her blouse. He slid it from her body, then tossed it aside. She wore an ice-blue silk-and-lace bra. The color made her skin seem even creamier than usual. He lowered his head and tongued her nipple through the material. He teased her other nipple with his fingers, pinching it until it, too, hardened.

  He leaned back to look at her. He’d never get tired of the way she looked with the red flush of desire spreading over her body. Her breaths came rapidly, her breasts strained against her bra. He removed the garment, leaving her naked from the waist up.

  He wanted to touch and taste her turgid nipples again but waited for now, teasing himself with what would come. He burrowed his hands into her hair and spread the silky blond mass out on her pillows. Then, taking one of the silk hose, he gathered her wrists together and bound them. He looped the free end through the headboard, tugging to make sure the knot was secure.

  “Is that comfortable?” he asked.

  “No.”

  He checked the bond at her wrists. “Too tight?”

  “No. I just feel so helpless,” she said.

  “Want me to untie you?” he asked. Though, seeing her bound and waiting for him had hardened him even more. He felt full and stronger. Bigger than he’d ever been before, and he wasn’t sure he could take his time with her as had been his intent.

  His blood was pounding in his veins, demanding he take her. Now. Instead, he took the colorful scarf in both of his hands and rubbed it back and forth across her nipples. She moaned deep in her throat and twisted again on the sheets.

  She was so responsive to his every touch and there was a part of him that felt they were made to be together. Especially in the dimly lit room with the creaking bedsprings.

  “Hurry up.”

  He chuckled and stood to remove her pants and panties at the same time. Seemed Corrine felt the same way. Knowing she needed him with the same urgency enabled him to slow his pace. He wanted to draw it out, to make this experience one she’d always remember.

  She twisted on the bed, her legs moving restlessly. She looked so wanton in that moment. Her nipples standing proud and tight, begging for his touch. Her eyes glazed with sensuality.

  He bent and suckled at her breast. At the same time, he slid his hands all over her body, caressing her stomach and belly button.

  She called his name and he nibbled his way up her torso to her mouth. Thrusting his tongue past the barrier of her teeth, he tasted her deeply. He tilted her head back and took her mouth, not letting her reciprocate because he wanted this time to be about her. This time was for her, her pleasure first. Her pleasure above his.

  She moaned deep in her throat, her hips moving restlessly against his lower body. Reaching between their bodies, he found the center of her desire and caressed her gently. She tore her mouth from his. In her eyes he saw a million words that she’d never say. Knew that the rawness he felt was mirrored in her.

  “Take off your clothes,” she said.

  “Not yet.”

  “Rand, I can’t wait much longer.”

  “Then don’t,” he said.

  Taking her ankles in both of his hands, he pushed her legs back toward her body until she was totally exposed to his gaze.

  “You’re so beautiful here,” he said, leaning toward her. He let his breath brush over her first. Inhaled deeply the scent of Corrine. Then lowered his head and tasted her.

  She screamed. Her humid warmth welcomed him as he worshiped her with his mouth, until he felt her body gripping him, heard the sounds she made when she came echoing in the room. Then he slid up her body and kissed her deeply.

  He was rock hard and needed release, but he waited until her body had calmed and started to build her again to the pinnacle. He removed his shirt and rubbed his chest against her breasts. He removed his pants and briefs and let their naked loins rub together until at last he had to plunge deep into her. Their eyes met as he thrust into her with a rhythm that drove them both to the edge.

  Something deep passed between them and Rand knew he’d never be the same.

  Eleven

  Corrine couldn’t catch her breath; she felt as if her soul had been taken from her body and it wasn’t back yet. Rand untied her hands a
nd cradled her close to him, holding her with a desperation she felt deep inside.

  She knew that what they had could never last. Or could it?

  Why couldn’t they both stay together? Despite his wealthy family Rand seemed like the perfect man for her. He knew what it was like to be alone and she thought together they could find happiness. The kind of happiness that had always eluded her.

  He made her feel everything more intensely, and though she’d never admit it out loud, she’d spent the majority of her life hiding from her feelings because she didn’t want to be hurt again. But Rand had always made her feel things even when she didn’t want to.

  That was the reason why she’d bid on him. Why she’d taken the risk of starting an affair with him. Why she was going to take an even bigger risk…trusting him with her heart.

  She’d been tired of living alone for a long time but had never found one person she wanted to share her space with until Rand. Every time he left, the house seemed too quiet. Not that he was loud or gregarious. Despite the ease with which he mingled with others, when they were alone he was happy to spend the time sitting quietly or making love.

  She caught their reflection in the mirror over her dresser. He was bigger than she was and more tanned. But wrapped around her as he was, she felt he needed her as much as she needed him. Her heart was full and her mind heavy with all the thoughts that kept buzzing back and forth.

  The sweat on her body was drying and she rubbed her hands up and down his spine. She loved the strength of him. Loved that he had the confidence to let her take control and didn’t feel threatened by her drive or her intelligence.

  The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable at all, but she needed to talk. To find a way to ask him to stay. Not just for a night but forever. And words, always her ally, deserted her.

  Rand stirred against her, strafing her nipple with his fingertip. Though she’d been thoroughly satisfied, she felt the beginning twinges of desire. Before they made love again she needed to find out if he felt as deeply as she did.

  “Okay, you are definitely the master,” she said.