Mastered 2: Ten Tales of Sensual Surrender (39 page)

"Fragile
and
durable. That sounds like a tall order." His eyelids lowered as he studied her.

Naomi had the feeling he wasn't thinking about the fabric at all – which frustrated her. Was he casting doubt on her claim? "The secret is a mix of threads in the fabric. I work with a fabric manufacturer in Fife. My foundation belief is flexibility combined with beauty. A woman wants attractive things to wear but she also wants to be able to wear them all day and still look good in the evening. She wants to be able to fling her jacket off," she paused and took off her jacket, draping it over the chair she had abandoned, "and have the dress looking good to go to the bar with friends for a glass of wine. She doesn't want to be rumpled or tired and look as if she's been wearing it all day."

He nodded. "Makes sense to me, so how do you achieve it?"

"It's a canny mix of man-made fibers shot through with wool and silk and cotton thread. That's where the colors and textures of the Highlands come in, so when you turn, you get drama in different lights." She demonstrated, one hand on her hip, turning from side to side. She knew this would take a lot of nerve to do, but she hadn't realized how self-conscious she would feel about doing it. Mind you, she was imagining some effervescent Latin fashion buyer not Mr. Cool-as-a-cucumber here.

Secrets flashed in his eyes, as if his thoughts were running in an entirely different direction to fabric and colors. Easing back in his chair he surveyed her, his eyes gleaming with humor and interest. The man was pure sex. He looked as if he were picturing her naked. It was as if she'd given him a green light to do so by standing up and parading her wares. Her skin tingled with awareness as his gaze swept over her. Naomi took a moment to picture him naked too. Those shoulders were so broad and large. He worked out, she could tell, more than just the running machine. His chest would be muscular under her hands.

Where had that come from
? She cleared her throat. "Before I put each item out to full production and retail I test the durability myself."

"You wear the items on a long day hiking around Edinburgh, doing the housework, or what?"

He didn't believe her, was that it? Naomi didn't like to be doubted, not when her heart and soul was in this project.

"I'm not trying to pull the wool over your eyes," she said with a bright smile. She hoped she didn't sound too sarcastic. "I've been wearing this dress since around six this morning, and it's pretty hard to find an outfit that doesn't appear rumpled after a six hour journey on a crowded cross country train."

She glanced around the office and her attention went once again to the running machine she'd spotted earlier. "However, I don't expect you to believe it without seeing it for yourself. If you'd allow me to demonstrate, I can prove just how durable the fabric is." She nodded across at the fancy gym machine.

Lucas rotated his chair to look at the machine, and his mouth moved in a long slow smile before he replied. "Be my guest."

Naomi quickly kicked off her heels and padded toward the machine in her stockinged feet.

Her companion quickly joined her, and his hand touched her shoulder briefly as he accompanied her to the machine. The touch was fleeting, but it affected her nonetheless. The pit of her stomach fluttered eagerly and she felt light headed and wired. Nerves hit her. Was she about to make a complete fool of herself? Luckily a quick glance at the machine proved it was similar to one she had used at her local gym. She stepped up, programmed it for a twenty minute slow jog, and set it going.

Lucas stood nearby, arms loosely folded as he observed her.

"The man-made aspect of the fabric is what gives it its shape and its ability to hug the figure." As she spoke she had to suck in her breath because she realized the positioning of the machine meant she was close to the massive windows. It felt as if she was about to jog right out onto a precipice above London. That set off a bleep-bleep noise in her head, like a warning that she was about to drop from the sky if she kept running.

It's an illusion
, she told herself quickly.

Mercifully Lucas stepped closer and rested one elbow on the front bar of the machine, observing her actions. She was pleased to see he was looking at the garment. She tried to focus on him instead of the dramatic view behind him. Her companion's eyebrows were drawn together, his expression thoughtful. She tried to picture him in casual clothes to keep her mind off the view.

In a flash her mind presented an image of him naked.

She grabbed the rail with one hand.

Lucas smiled. Her hand was close to his elbow.

God, he's so incredibly good looking
. Naomi withdrew her hand and tried not to stumble. Close proximity to him turned out to be just as unnerving as running full pelt at a window high in the sky. Presumably it didn't bother him, that ridiculous view. No, he'd be just fine with it, she decided.

He watched her every movement, as if each and every thing she did was important to him. Nervous butterflies gathered in her stomach. It wasn't just that he was attractive and powerful looking and the future of her business rested on his opinion. Just by being close to her he affected her, turning her into a puddle of lust. She kept going, chin lifted, and she was doing just fine until her hair started to slip free of its clips and began to fall around her shoulders. "Oh, damn!"

"Hey." He reached over and touched her on the shoulder. "It's the fabric you're demonstrating, and you've done that." He smiled his encouragement then moved his hand to lower the speed, nodding at her to indicate he was switching the machine off.

Naomi's hands went to the grab bar and once she drew to halt she shook her hair back.

He stared at her openly. He seemed totally relaxed, chilled even, but the glint in his eye as he assessed her was possessive. "You have the most beautiful hair."

It wasn't what she expected him to say. Her heart kept racing. It wasn't the jogging that caused it. It was him, the way he was and the way he looked. The shape of his mouth alone made her want to be kissed by him, to feel his sensual smile against her lips. It was so tempting to reach out and trace the rugged bones of his face and jaw. Arousal pulled heavily inside her, heating her body through, making her skin sizzle and her fingertips twitch.

She could only hope she hadn't made a fool of herself. If she had, she'd done it willingly – making an exhibition of herself as well as her dress.

"Are you okay?" His voice was low.

She nodded.

He put one finger under her chin, looking deep into her eyes. In that one touch he conveyed his authority. It made her wet. "Would you be prepared to be the face of your Highland Range? For magazine articles and promo shots?"

"It's not something I've thought about."

"You're a very beautiful woman."

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, the touch of his hand making her nerve endings go crazy. A muted "thank you" escaped her lips, her face heating.

While he observed her he flexed his shoulders, as if he was limbering up. Her legs went weak under her as she considered he hadn't even begun to reveal his true nature to her. As if he knew what she was thinking, he smiled, and then she saw it – desire in his eyes. It was blatant, raw, and incredibly powerful. He could tell she was aroused too. It was there in his eyes. Tension charged the air between them.

"Your demonstration was successful. You may…dismount." His eyebrows lifted.

That made her blush even more and she stepped down.

When her feet were back on the floor he moved closer still – so close she could smell his cologne – and ran the back of his knuckles down the front of her throat, stroking her skin as if he were admiring her. "Have dinner with me, we can discuss it in more relaxed surroundings"

The direct invitation surprised her. "Is that normal, I mean, for an employee to take a potential client out at this early stage in negotiations?"

He cocked his head. "Concerned about appropriate behavior in a given situation? I like that in a woman."

Naomi wasn't sure what he meant by that, but he was smiling a wicked smile and it did bad things to her. Was it right to be this turned on by a man who held the future of her business in his hands? No, it wasn't, but she couldn't help herself. The man was drop-dead gorgeous and he was flirting with her.

Moving quickly he fetched her jacket and clutch bag, handing them to her.

She pushed her feet into her high heels, straightening her dress as she did so. "My portfolio case…"

"Leave it, we can collect it later if needs be."

Naomi paused. She had a change of clothes in there. She'd arranged to spend a few days in London with an old friend from Art College.

He stood by, her jacket in his hand, encouraging her to leave with him. His free hand was lightly placed at the small of her back.

Her feet began to move of their own accord, in time with his.

"Please, don't be cornered about protocol," he added as they left the office. "I own the Eaglestone Agency. That means I make
and
break
all
the rules around here."

Realization hit her hard and fast.

The man taking her to dinner – the man with his hand so intimately placed against her back – was A. L. Eaglestone, owner of the Eaglestone Agency.

She met his glance, saw the humor in his eyes – and the seductive promise – and her knees almost went from under her.

Chapter Two

Never had such a vision of lush femininity walked across the reception of the Eaglestone Agency. Lucas could only be grateful he'd been there to witness Naomi Kildare's arrival, or she might have been turned away before he even set eyes on her.

That would have been a tragedy.

She'd been wearing her hair up, and he'd instantly wanted to see it down, preferably hanging loose over her naked shoulders. When she did her jogging stunt and it slipped free he couldn't have been happier.

Her figure was quintessentially feminine, and the outfit she wore showed off her hourglass curves to perfection. If he could have frozen the image of her walking into his office wearing that dress he was pretty sure Georgio could place her designs in every top store in London and beyond.

Her hair at first appeared to be a dark mahogany color, but when it caught the light it shone bright red. Her eyes were green and her skin pale, except when she blushed. It was akin to the coded color choices in her Highlands Inspired designs and he wondered if she knew that. How enticing it would be to have her as the face of her own range. She surely was an elegant beauty and she'd caught his attention. That hadn't happened for a long time.

With the sour taste of a broken relationship and an acrimonious divorce in his mouth no woman had sharpened his appetite for some time. When Lucas felt that rush – the need to know and possess – he acted on it immediately. Besides, he'd never felt the urge so quickly or strongly. Not even Clara, his ex-wife, had elicited such an immediate and powerful urge in him. Perhaps it was because it had been a while. On the other hand, Naomi Kildare was an exceptional woman. Creative, talented, and a confident business woman. Yet there was that underlying hint of vulnerability, the occasional flash of innocent curiosity that piqued his interest.

Was she a submissive lover? Would she open and blossom under a dominant hand? Lucas wanted to know. And he found his interest reflected in her eyes. The magnetic draw between them was strong. There was no ignoring it.

While looking across the dinner table at her Lucas anticipated tasting her, pleasuring her with his mouth until she cried out for him.

He was rock hard in an instant.

"Is the lobster good?" He reached for his wine glass.

She paused and dabbed her full lower lip with her napkin before answering. "Delicious, yes, thank you."

In the elegant surroundings of the best restaurant in Piccadilly she looked like a gem in the perfect setting. Lucas noticed she drew the attention of other men, and he could hardly blame them. Her eyes sparkled. The wine he'd ordered had mellowed her. During the car journey to the restaurant she'd seemed nervous and he was concerned he'd pressured her into accompanying him. Now that she was relaxed and enjoying herself he knew he'd done the right thing.

"Do you come here often?" She smiled as she asked the question. "The waiters appear to know you well."

"I do. I'm afraid I don't cook and I've been living alone for the past ten months or so." He dropped that in deliberately. He still didn't know if she was single. She didn't wear any rings and she was flirting with him. It didn't necessarily mean she was unattached, but it was important to him that she was. He wouldn't go there otherwise. "My working hours are long and unpredictable and I rarely get to shop or think about food until it's too late. Which leaves me the option of grabbing take out, or stopping by one of my favorite restaurants – and I'm not big on take out. "

"Ah, now I do succumb to take out if I'm working late. We have some great international food in Edinburgh. I enjoy cooking though, but I've been so busy working on the range and the shop, well, it's rare I get a chance to cook."

Her accent was soft, lilting. He wondered if it was a regional thing or whether her time studying in London had altered it.

"Anyone special to cook for?"

Her lips curved. "Are you asking me if I'm single?"

"Yes, I am. I'm pretty sure you have plenty of friends to cook for."

She chuckled. "Yes, I'm single."

"I'm glad we have that established. I don't like to take it for granted. I should've asked before I invited you to dinner."

"How very proper of you." She looked at him accusingly from under lowered eyelids. Her smile lingered. "But I thought this was a business dinner?"

"It's whatever we want it to be." He looked at her deliberately, letting her feel the weight of his intentions.

Her eyes widened. How quickly she responded to him. It was a compelling symbiosis they had. It made him wonder if the instant trigger would be reflected in a more sexual encounter. He was willing to bet it would. He intended to find out.

"Don't you think you should've informed me that you were the owner of the company before I presented my designs?" The look in her eyes was challenging but tempered with humor.

"I didn't want to intimidate you in any way."

She laughed aloud. "Oh, my. You don't need a fancy job title to intimidate people with. You do just fine without the add-on."

"You find me intimidating?"

She pursed her lips, acting as if she was giving it some thought. "You're a self-possessed man, imposing." She paused, as if choosing her words carefully. "Yes, I suppose you did intimidate me, but not in a bad way… in fact it was kind of exciting…"

Her chin lifted and she met his gaze directly.

He inclined his head, acknowledging the intimacy of her comment. "That makes it so much better."

His gaze lingered on her. He was going to enjoy every moment of Naomi Kildare.

"Is it something you've heard before, the intimidating thing?"

"Oh yes, many times. I've been accused of that and a lot more. Arrogance, pig-headedness, you name it. Usually when I'm telling people things they don't want to hear."

The sound of her laughter made him feel warm and mellow. Like a slug of good brandy it hit the spot.

"Were you neglecting your own clients to deal with me?"

"I put my calls on hold. I don't often do that."

"That was considerate of you."

He shrugged. "It's good to know it's possible. I like to be available to my personal client list and our retail contacts around the clock."

"What kind of product designer do you work with yourself?"

"More techy stuff. One of my clients is a gadget inventor. He wants to remain freelance and not have to worry about patents and marketing, but it's a competitive field and if he has a new item to market it has to be done fast to keep the edge."

"That must be demanding."

"It is. There's always something that should be chased up and done faster, or else there's a disaster to be averted." He smiled. "I certainly haven't had time for much else, recently." It was the honest to god truth, and he'd liked it that way for a long while. Until he saw her. Then he wanted his desk clear – preferably so he could fuck her on it.

"Did you build up the Eaglestone agency yourself?"

He nodded. "I wanted to avoid the family business, that's how it happened. Sounds rather dishonorable, doesn't it? My father had my whole life planned out for me.  He's in retail. The agency angle was close enough for him to agree, and it let me be my own man."

"It's important to you, being the one in charge?"

Did she say that because he'd taken charge of her? Her eyelids were lowered and she was pretending to look at her plate.

"I like to win. It's important for me to succeed in everything I do. If I'm in charge that's the best way to ensure I make it happen."

"You still need to rely on other people though, those who are…under you." She chuckled.

Had she used a
double entendre
on purpose? Lucas didn't think so, but she'd realized what she'd said after the event.

"Well now, how can I put this?" He lifted his wine glass and took a sip, eyeing her over the rim. "I make sure the person...under me…has everything they need for their…satisfaction, then everyone's a winner."

She stared at him, her lips slightly parted, her eyes dark with interest.

"Are we still talking about business?" she asked.

The nature of the conversation was turning her on, he could tell, and he was pleased she went with it and bounced the ball back into his court.

He pushed his plate aside, rested his arms on the table and leaned in, so he was closer to her. "I find the same rules and benefits of power exchange apply in more intimate circumstances."

"You're argument is persuasive," she offered cautiously, her full lips lifted at the corners.

"That's good to know." He was about to say more when her expression suddenly morphed.

"Oh, dear." She glanced at her watch and pulled a phone out of her bag. "I'm going to have to make a call. I was supposed to be meeting Sam."

Lucas frowned. Sam? Who was Sam – a guy or a girl?

"I'm so sorry," she said, "I'm staying with her for the weekend. I'd better let her know."

A girl. Lucas nodded then checked his email on his phone while she called her friend.

"Sam, hi. I just wanted to let you know I've been invited out to dinner by my…" Her lashes fluttered up and she looked at him as she sought the right word, "…contact at the Agency."

The voice at the other end of the phone grew loud and excited. Definitely a woman's voice, Lucas decided, relieved.

"Yes, thanks," Naomi responded, blushing.

The pink hue on her cheeks made Lucas think of sex. It made him think about her skin taking on a rosy hue under his hand. She was listening to her friend and looking a little awkward. The woman was obviously attempting to grill her for details.

Reaching over, Lucas drew the phone from Naomi's hand. "Hi Sam. This is Naomi's contact at the agency. I intend to keep her entertained for as long as possible. In other words, don't wait up."

He ended the call and handed her back the phone. "She'd asked a question and put you on the spot, hadn't she?"

Her surprised expression broke and she laughed. "Yes, she had rather."

He noticed how soft she was, elegant but somehow vulnerable. Her red hair shone under the lights. He wanted to touch it, to discover its texture under his fingers. Instead, he reached out and drew her hand into his. She didn't resist. "I've enjoyed your company immensely. I don't want it to end. Will you come home with me?"

Her eyes revealed intelligence, consideration. "Are you asking me to sleep with you?"

"Yes." He gestured to the waiter for the bill. "Are you surprised I asked?"

She paused before responding, as if she were choosing her answer carefully. "There's an attraction between us, a powerful one. And you've flirted and alluded to your sexual preferences throughout dinner." Her glance was teasing. The corners of her beautiful, lush mouth lifted. "It's just…I wasn't expecting you to be quite so straight to the point."

"I'm a direct man."

"You are. But we've only known each other…what, four hours?" Humor flashed in her eyes. Interest, too. She wanted him as much he wanted her.

"Four hours, and I haven't yet tasted you. What an incredible waste of time, especially since I wanted to taste you as soon as I saw you."

There was a flush of color on her cheekbones again, the response that made him wonder what her naked body would look like with a similar flush on it – a flush of physical and sexual pleasure.

She met his gaze, and a mutual understanding passed between them.

"Ready to go?"

She nodded.

Lucas smiled. Being direct rarely failed to get him what he wanted.

"In that case, let's not waste another moment."