Out of Bounds (7 page)

“It’s nothing.”

Celeste laughed and leaned across the table. “It looked like a whole lot of something naughty that you’re not comfortable with.”

“I’m not doing my boss,” Sabra defended herself.

“Your boss… Interesting,” Celeste purred victoriously. “It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself of that fact.”

Heat teased Sabra’s cheeks, and she had to bite back the cuss word she wanted to say. Celeste always saw straight through her.

“Okay, fine. He’s a hunk—”

“Who is?” Celeste asked innocently.

“Can the eyelash flutters. Remember, I know where your skeletons are stashed.”

Celeste lifted a single, slim finger. “That is a two-way street.”

It was. They’d been friends since grade school. Sabra picked up the glass of ice wine and inhaled its scent. It brought Tarak to mind instantly. She shivered before setting the glass down.

“Now I really have to know what is happening between you and Tarak Nektosha,” Celeste declared. “You actually look shaken.”

“Like you did when Nartan offered you his card?”

Celeste lifted her glass and took a sip. “Touché.” She set her glass down and appeared to steady herself. “Yet my situation is easier to understand. You know why I don’t trust men.”

For a moment Celeste was locked in a memory. Her eyes became wounded as she recalled her ex-husband. Sabra remembered the asshole too well, but it was a lot easier for her to discard the memory. She hadn’t been the one living with a monster. Celeste was caught in the moment, so Sabra spoke up to shatter the hold the past had on her friend.

“Well, I don’t trust Tarak Nektosha,” Sabra confessed. “I mean, how did he know we were here?”

Celeste sighed. “Men with money always look out for one another.” She picked up the card Nartan had given her and held it over the candle flame. “Their allegiance is to the boys’ club.” The paper caught and a yellow flame greedily consumed the card. Celeste watched it burn before dropping it into her water glass. “We are pets to their sort, nothing more. Which is why
we
must look out for one another,” Celeste finished softly, but not too soft for Sabra to hear the determination in her tone.

***

No matter how good the reason for celebrating was, it was still a work night. Sabra hugged Celeste before getting into her car and heading home. Traffic was much lighter and she was soon pulling into her driveway.

But she shivered when she entered the house. It was quiet, but the whisper of a memory sent a ripple of sensation across her skin.

A memory of Tarak.

The house phone was ringing and she looked at the caller ID.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Where have you been?” her father asked. “I’ve left five messages.”

“You should have called me on my cell.”

“That’s your office line,” her father admonished. “When I was in the navy, we never used the base phone.”

“That was a few years ago, Dad.”

“Values don’t go out of style.”

“Yeah, Dad.” Sabra kicked her shoes off. “I know the family motto.”

There was an approving grunt on the other end of the phone. But the ice wine and Tarak’s words from the meeting joined her father’s argument. Her boss could track her anywhere and even see the little text message from Kevin.

“I’m going to get a private cell phone, Dad. Promise. First thing Saturday.”

“It sounds like there have been developments in your career if there is budget for a cell phone.”

She turned around and leaned against the kitchen counter. Her dad was her best friend, the parent who had wanted her. Sure, she was grown and past childhood insecurities, but her mother’s desertion still had the power to hurt. Her dad’s voice soothed the wounds. He’d launched into a tale of his navy years and she laughed again, as she had the hundred other times she’d heard the same story.

“All right, off to bed with you, young lady,” her father said at last. “Story time is over.”

“Not until you tell me what the doctor said today.”

There was a short silence on the other end of the phone.

“Dad, I’m not going to be brushed off that easily,” she warned him. “I was raised by a crusty sailor.”

Her father offered her a chuckle. “You’re my girl, through and through. The doctor told me to get a second opinion if I didn’t like what he had to say. So that’s what I’m doing.”

“Dad—”

“That’s my plan, Sabra. I’m a grown man, and I’ve lived enough years to know that one doctor doesn’t always agree with another one. Now you sleep tight and I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Her dad was so damned stubborn.

Just like Tarak.

The man was also insanely vibrant; his essence was floating through her house. Wasn’t there some unspoken law of the universe that made it impossible to be turned on while talking to your father? It didn’t seem to be applying itself. The darkness just made her long for companionship even more.

***

The feeling followed her into her bedroom and sleep eluded her. At least good, sound sleep did. She was grateful for her alarm putting an end to her tossing. But one look in the mirror and she knew the day was going to be a bitch.

The right side of her face was black and blue. She rubbed her eyes and looked again, hoping she was just groggy.

No such luck.

Anastasia had clobbered her good. Maybe Celeste had the right idea—a few martial arts lessons might just be the ticket. At least the idea kept her moving and got her to work on time.

“Good morning, Ms—” Claudia covered her gaping mouth with her hand.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” Sabra tried to make her tone light.

“Yes it is.”

Recognition was instant. It felt as if she registered Tarak’s voice on a cellular level. He was standing in the hallway, holding the door she’d just come through open. His suit was Armani and his shirt pressed perfectly. He looked like a corporate tycoon, until she locked gazes with him. Once she looked into his eyes, all she saw was the Apache. There was nothing about him that fit in with the society around them.

“My office, Ms. Donovan. We need to discuss last evening.”

She avoided making eye contact until she was inside his office. As far as business tycoon dens went, it was cutting edge, but she was still dwelling on the fact that he’d known where she was the night before.

She was only two steps inside his office when she demanded, “Are we alone?”

He whipped around, his hair flipping back from his face. “Yes.”

“Then this better be about business and not the bruise your girlfriend left on my face.”

He didn’t like her statement, not a bit. But he just crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the edge of his desk, which was gigantic and impressive. But she was concentrating on his reasons for dragging her into his office while letting his secretary hear that he was keeping tabs on her after hours.

“You told me that I am up here because you think I can handle the job. Saying you want to discuss last night in front of both our secretaries isn’t keeping this on a professional level.”

His gaze settled on the side of her face. “You’re right, but the situation is extreme.”

“It’s a bruise and I’ve had worse.”

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. She got stuck looking at his mouth. God, he knew how to kiss. Kevin sure hadn’t curled her toes the way Tarak did.

“Now who’s thinking about non-business topics, Ms. Donovan?”

She jerked her attention up and found his black eyes glittering. He’d pushed away from the desk and closed the distance between them. Great. She’d given him an inch and he was taking full advantage.

But she had to confess that she’d be disappointed if he didn’t, even though her pride rebelled against the thought. Emotion and fact often conflicted. On one level, she wanted to be viewed as his peer—on another, deeper one, she wanted to be stalked.

And
caught…

He stopped in front of her, reaching out to tip her head away just a bit so he could inspect the bruise. His lips thinned with rage.

“Anastasia is back in New York.” He stroked her cheek gently. “I put her on the damned plane myself.”

“You did what with her?” The words flew right out of her mouth in the same moment it registered that he’d confessed to being with the sex kitten.

Tarak’s expression instantly changed. He hadn’t missed the heat in her tone. He cupped her jaw, raising her face so that their gazes couldn’t part.

“I put her on a plane so that her father can deal with her. I want nothing else from her.”

His tone was sharp and cold as ice. There wasn’t a shred of remorse for his actions.

Sabra stepped back, escaping from his touch. “Not that it’s any of my concern.”

“You are jealous, Sabra.”

He took a step after her. A crazy twist of excitement went through her as she realized he was stalking her. Intent flickered in his eyes as he took another step.

She retreated. Moved back, without any real decision on her part. Tarak’s eyes narrowed and he followed her. Arousal snaked through her and her mouth went dry. It was too damned fast to make any sort of sense.

“Very jealous,” he concluded as he shortened the space between them. “I approve.”

“Why? You’re the one who prefers relationships you are in command of. I thought you said Anastasia fit that bill perfectly, so that makes her a better choice for you. I don’t do the no-strings-attached thing.”

Sabra sidestepped, because she was running out of space behind her. A picture of him pressing her up against the wall was trying to destroy every last shred of sense she had left.

“Sure you want to discuss what I like in a relationship, Sabra? Because once I get interested in a project, I tend to see it through to my complete satisfaction,” he warned.

Her mouth went dry at the mention of
satisfaction
.

“It’s not like I want to. This whole instant-attraction thing isn’t my idea of a good time. In fact, I’m over it.”

She
was
such
a
liar…

His expression tightened, determination flickering in his eyes. “Like hell you’re over it.” His lazy pace had given her a false sense of security, of control over the situation. The brutal truth was, she had none. Tarak reached out and captured her, pulling her against his body as he turned and pushed her up against the dark, frosted-glass wall.

“When you issue a challenge to me, Sabra, rest assured, I will take it.”

He caught the back of her head and angled his face so that he could kiss her. His mouth was hot, and once again her toes curled. Desire was instantaneous with the first touch of his lips against hers, as if she’d been waiting until they were once again in contact. Being pinned against a wall only made the moment more intense. He handled her as though she belonged to him, and part of her wanted it to be true.

She reached for him, for the hair that drew her gaze every time he was near, tangling her fingers in the longer strands to pull him closer. He was pressing her against the wall, but they weren’t close enough. She lifted her leg, hooking it around his hip. He stroked her thigh and cupped her bottom as his tongue thrust deep inside her mouth. Her skirt rode up, allowing the inside of her thigh to rub against his hip. He shifted, pressing against her pubic mound. The hard presence of his cock sent a twist of need through her.

“Goddamn it,” he swore, and pressed his forehead against the glass wall. His breathing was rapid and the grip on her butt tightened as if he was fighting the urge to release her. The layers of fabric between them were a torment from hell.

“I want inside you, Sabra.” He shoved away from the wall with a vicious action that sent a vibration up the glass panel.

“It’s fucking consuming me, and I don’t have time for emotional distractions. I should have taken care of the urge when I was at your house.”

He moved away, shaking his head as if he was desperate to get her out of his mind. She lowered her leg, feeling exposed and naïve.

Too damned vulnerable.

“Well, excuse the hell out of me.”

There was venom in her tone and her temper flared. She let it run wild, needing something to burn off the passion trying to make her knees buckle.

He whipped around, but she beat him to the punch.

“Don’t you touch me again. Maybe you’re sex on a stick and hotter than any man I’ve ever had in my bed, but at least my last boyfriend wasn’t such an egomaniac that sex was only about him. I’ve got higher standards than being fucked out of your system.”

She opened the door, but it was slammed shut with a violence that shook the entire wall. He was only an inch from her back, and she could feel his body heat. His scent filled her nose, sending a stabbing bolt of need through her. His greater size overwhelmed her and turned up the heat burning her another few degrees. There was something about the way he demanded what he wanted that was sexy as sin, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

“I deserved that,” he admitted next to her ear.

“Yeah?” She turned around and shoved him. “Then why do you sound like those were the hardest words you’ve ever spoken?”

He caught her wrists, clamping them in an iron grip.

“Because they were. This is my domain—the gain, the risk, it’s all mine. I don’t apologize for telling people what I want. I am Nektosha. If you come into my world, be prepared to satisfy me.”

He pressed all the way against her, the contact sending her blood racing.

But the intercom buzzed, filling the office. “Mr. Nektosha?” The Asian security chief’s voice cut through the office. “Is there a problem?”

“No, Kim. Close the intercom.”

There was a quick buzz, confirming exactly what he’d claimed— it was his world. There was an undeniable allure about him, but it was the same sort of fascination she might have for a snake. The attraction stemmed from the danger, and the reality was, she was likely to end up the victim. She sighed and tried to twist her wrists free.

“Better patch things up with Anastasia then, because I will not jump into your bed on command.”

“You’ve never tried my commands in bed.” He leaned down and kissed the side of her neck. “Sometimes, hearing what your partner wants is very stimulating.”