Solace in Scandal (9 page)

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Authors: Kimberly Dean

BOOK: Solace in Scandal
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The books. It was the only way she would have heard him. The library was above the workout room. Thank God.

He headed to the kitchen and looked out of the window down the path to the lake house. It was still pouring outside. Her hair had been wet, he just now realised. Wet and sexy. She had to have gotten drenched on her way back. As she’d run away …

‘Move on, Wolfe. You can’t get involved with her. You just had to work off some steam.’

Scratch an itch. Slake his thirst.

He sighed and turned towards the coffee maker. That was when he saw the hoodie hanging on the coat rack by the kitchen door. He frowned and went over for a closer look.

The gray material was still damp. It was his, all right, the one he’d lent her down by the lake when she’d been chilled. His fingers swept over the soft fleece. The sweatshirt was too big on her, making her look like a kitten wrapped up in a blanket. He’d told her she could return it, but she’d been wearing it every time he’d seen her since. He’d liked that, knowing that she was warm and comfortable, wrapped up in what was his.

His hand fisted in the material.

Oh, hell no. This wasn’t over.

He looked through the paned glass of the kitchen door and saw a light on in the cabin. He knew what they said about sirens, about the temptation and the danger, but he didn’t care.

This thing between the two of them? It had only just begun.

Chapter Five

Elena pushed herself away from the computer and rubbed her temples. She couldn’t think straight. Her thoughts had been churning and freezing for the past day – ever since her ‘visit’ to the main house. Sighing, she looked out the window at the lake. It was agitated. The breeze was stiff, and the surface was choppy. She watched the ripples and the tiny whitecaps as they rolled towards her. The lake looked just like she felt … all roiled up.

What had she done?

She rubbed a tight spot in her shoulder that refused to relax. She knew exactly what she’d done. The memory was emblazoned in her head, and her body still felt the delicious after-effects. She’d made love with the last person on earth she should ever be involved with. Alex Wolfe had been her father’s accomplice. Their greedy actions had hurt countless people, including her, yet none of that had mattered when she’d found him trapped in the basement.

He might be one of the richest, most powerful men in the country, but in that moment he’d needed her.

There was no way she could have walked away. His agitation and his desperation had called out to the most basic level of human compassion. Her thoughts had been centred on getting him out of that bathroom, no matter how spacious and luxurious it might have been. She’d had to help him, and the relief on his face had been worth the effort. But then he’d touched her …

And kissed her.

Heat bubbled up inside her, meshing with all the uncertainty. Her nipples became sensitive and the tenderness between her legs more apparent. Unsettled, she pulled her feet up onto the chair and hugged her legs to try to crush the sensations.

Things had just spiralled out of control so quickly. One moment she’d been looking for a book and the next she’d been flat on her back with the Sexiest Bachelor of the Year moving between her legs. She pressed her thighs together hard, but it only magnified the memory. Their lovemaking had been so raw, so elemental. So ravening. She’d never come like that. Ever. She hadn’t even known it was possible.

But reality had been waiting for her when she’d floated back to earth.

And that, more than anything, embarrassed her. She’d run from the gym like a scared virgin. She wasn’t sure how she could have handled the situation differently, but there must have been a better way than running bare-assed through the door. Her fingers dug deeper into the knot in her shoulder that refused to loosen.

She should be horrified by the whole experience, and she was. But, damn it, all she could remember was the way he looked naked … and the way he felt pressed up against her and inside her …

A knock at the door had her jerking upright and wincing when the knot in her shoulder popped.

‘Ah!’ She turned more carefully.

She’d been avoiding calls, and he had called. At least she’d assumed that the number she didn’t recognise was his.

Another tap sounded.

Feeling very much like the side of her that had grabbed her clothes and run, she tiptoed to the bedroom door and peered around the corner. She couldn’t see who was knocking. Sucking in a breath, she pulled back her shoulders, winced again and made herself enter the living room.

He knew she was here. Her car was parked outside. The only other place she could be was on a walk, but she knew that he wasn’t exploring the woods right now. He’d come back half an hour ago. If she was watching him so closely, no doubt he was watching her right back.

She might as well get this over with.

When she reached the door, though, she didn’t recognise the woman standing outside.

Hesitantly, she pulled the door open a few inches. If a reporter had made it onto the property, she’d feel no compunction about slamming it in the woman’s face. ‘Hello?’

‘Hi, I’m Tabitha. Mr Wolfe sent me.’

Elena gazed at the woman and then at the area behind her, looking for cameras or microphones. ‘Why?’

‘I’m a massage therapist. He asked me to give this to you.’

‘This’ was her backpack, the one she’d left in the manor’s kitchen. Elena felt off-balance, and wasn’t certain what to do. She opened the door wide enough to take the bag, but closed it again like a barrier. ‘Can you give me a moment?’

She felt bad about leaving the woman on her doorstep with the wind whirling around like it was, but she also wasn’t ready to let her in the house.

‘I’ll just get my table,’ the pretty blonde said.

Still feeling suspicious, Elena turned away. The backpack wasn’t empty like she’d left it. It had weight and bulk to it. Her face flared when she pulled back the zipper. Her clothes were inside, the ones she’d left behind on her desperate escape. She put her socks on the back of the sofa. The grey hoodie made her frown. It was his. She’d commandeered it for a while after he’d loaned it to her. It was just so soft and comfy. She pressed her face against the grey fleece and inhaled. It was fresh from the dryer and still warm.

She frowned. It didn’t smell as much like him any more.

But that didn’t matter. She’d returned it. Why was he sending it back?

And where was her bra? That was the one thing she
knew
she’d left behind.

She looked under the sweatshirt, but the only other thing she found was a plain white envelope. Heart puttering a little faster, she unfolded the hoodie and shook it out. Nothing else fell. Her bra wasn’t there.

She felt warmth in her cheeks and a sudden heaviness in her breasts. Their clinch had been hot and fast, but he had suckled her so hard her nipples hadn’t relaxed for the rest of the day. They perked up again at the memory and she looked worriedly at the door.

The massage therapist was waiting on the threshold, her heavy massage table folded up and leaning against her leg.

Elena opened the door again, this time wide enough to have a conversation. ‘I’m not sure I understand.’

‘Mr Wolfe said you might be having some soreness.’

Elena’s face went from warm to blazing hot.

‘From all the hiking you’ve been doing?’ the woman continued.

‘Mmm, yes.’ Elena cleared her throat. ‘And I’ve been at the computer a lot. Come in.’

She wasn’t an idiot. She had proof that the masseuse had been sent by Alex. She wasn’t sure if he’d sent her to score points or act as an apology, but she wasn’t going to refuse the gift. Her shoulder was about to make her cry, and a massage was a luxury she hadn’t been able to indulge in much, especially from a professional. She was sure that whoever he hired would be far superior to the massage-school students who practised their craft on the cheap at the local Y.

Tabitha entered and gave herself a shake. ‘It’s a brisk one out there today.’

‘Yes, it is.’

The woman looked around the tiny cabin. ‘Where would you like me to set up?’

Elena bit her lip. There wasn’t a lot of room. Finally, she decided to use the space where she did yoga, but that meant moving the coffee table. If the circumstances were strange after what she was used to, Tabitha didn’t say anything. She set up her supplies and then washed her hands in the bathroom while Elena stripped down and got under the sheets.

‘Any particular spots I should pay attention to?’ the woman asked as she came back into the room.

‘My neck and shoulders,’ Elena said. She couldn’t tell her about the other place. That mat in the gym might have been good for sit-ups, but not for the exercise she’d engaged in. Her butt was still tender from bouncing upon it. ‘And my bottom.’

The words were out before she could stop them, but why not? Why get a massage and still have a part of her body hurt? She blushed with her face tucked into the table’s support ring, but the woman made no comment until she touched her back.

‘Oh, hon. You’re tight.’

‘I’ve been working a lot,’ Elena confessed.

‘Too much. It may take a while to work this tension out.’

‘Whatever you have time for would be great.’

‘Time?’ That got a chuckle out of the masseuse. ‘I have all the time in the world. Your …’

She paused as if she didn’t know what word to use.

‘Mr Wolfe,’ she began again, ‘hired me for the whole day. I’m supposed to give you whatever treatments you want or need. Hot stones, aromatherapy, reflexology …’

‘The whole day?’ Elena would have been thrilled with a fifteen-minute foot rub.

‘I believe his exact words were to “leave you limp”.’

* * *

Limp was an understatement.

By the time Tabitha left, Elena felt like her muscles were mush. All traces of stress and tension had been systematically removed from her body. In their place was peace, near light-headedness and an indefinable euphoria. She stretched out along the sofa, her lazy limbs falling in comfortable repose. The couch was still tucked up against the breakfast bar, but she didn’t have the energy to move it back into place.

‘Oh, my God,’ she murmured. She felt almost as good as she had after sex.

Almost.

As if she’d summoned him up, her fingers brushed against the hoodie that was still draped over the sofa’s back. It had cooled, but the fleece was still soft. Impulsively, she pulled it over herself. It dropped on top of her, but so did a stiff white envelope.

She frowned, but then she remembered taking it out of her backpack. Curiosity got the best of her, and she worked her finger under the flap. When she unfolded the piece of paper inside, her mouth dropped open. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this. Her gaze skimmed over the results of a check-up from a month ago at the medical clinic at the Federal Correctional Institution at Otisville.

He was clean.

The paper fell from her grip, and she pressed her fingers to her mouth. She’d been so wrapped up in the other after-effects of their encounter that she hadn’t even thought about that. To be so reckless … so careless … She’d been so entangled in the emotional and logical sides that she hadn’t considered the physical.

Which was ironic, since the physical was what had gotten her into trouble in the first place.

She picked the paper up from where it had fallen across her chest. She’d been avoiding his calls and she’d been avoiding him.

She bit her lip.

She couldn’t avoid him any longer. She had to be responsible.

Some of the stress that Tabitha had just dispelled snuck back between her shoulder blades. Taking a deep breath, Elena reached for her phone on the kitchen counter above her and navigated to the list of missed calls. Before her nerves could get the best of her, she hit redial.

The moment the ringing began, her thoughts jumbled. What was she going to say? What would he say? It was all so uncomfortable. They’d gone from avoiding one another to rolling around on the floor together.

His low voice came on the phone much too quickly. ‘Hello, Elena.’

The way he said her name made her belly squeeze, and she reflexively drew her knees up towards her chest. ‘Thank you for Tabitha.’

It was a safe start. An accepted compromise.

‘How do you feel?’

He might as well have reached through the phone line and stroked her side. Her eyelids drifted shut and she swallowed hard. She felt wonderful, relaxed and sensitive, but she chose her words carefully. ‘De-stressed.’

‘Good. I’m glad you enjoyed it.’

The conversation dipped into one of those uncomfortable pauses that happened whenever they spoke – the quiet moments with so much current moving underneath the surface. Elena ran her hand over the hoodie that covered her like a blanket. ‘She returned my backpack,’ she ventured.

‘You’re going to need those socks.’

Her lips curled up at the corners. She never would have expected him to have a sense of humour. ‘I’m clean,’ she whispered.

There was a quiet pause on the other end of the line, a poignant pause that held so many secrets.

‘And I’m on the Pill,’ she continued in that same whisper. She’d gone on it when she and her last boyfriend had been together, and she’d stayed on it long after they’d broken up because it regulated her periods.

He’d been honest with her; she had to be up front with him. He had enough problems right now. He didn’t need to worry that he’d procreated with her, a Bardot. That just might possibly be the scandal to top The Scandal.

‘Have dinner with me.’

The request had her sitting up halfway. It had been firm and authoritative, a powerful CEO re-establishing his control. Yet it had also been wistful, with just enough ache to remind her of the panicked man who’d clung to her as he’d fought off his claustrophobia.

‘Up here at the main house. I’ll get Marta to make us something, just the two of us.’

Elena scooted back until her bottom pressed against the arm of the sofa. She cuddled deeper into the sweatshirt, pulling it up to her chin. ‘I don’t know if that’s a good idea.’

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