Sultry in Stilettos (28 page)

"Are you going to pretend
you're asleep for much longer, or can we have an encore of last
night?"

Beckett's gravelly voice
came from her left, and she turned to face him. He withdrew his
hand from her breast and folded both on his belly. "So it's that
time again is it?"

She frowned. "I'm not sure
what you mean."

"Where you tell me this
was all a mistake, and I'm not the right kind of guy for you
now.”

"When have I ever said
you're not the right kind of guy for me?"

He tried to sit up, and
she stopped him by placing a hand on his chest. If they were going
to have a conversation on regrets, then she wasn't giving him the
upper hand. She pulled one of the sheets to her breast and did her
best to cover up sarong style.

His navy blue eyes bored
into hers. ”I heard you sent a crew over to Swim on J."

Her gut went cold. “That
was supposed to be a secret. How did you find out?"

“Braedon called. Adele
Westhorpe also sent an architect.”

Oh shit.
When she’d approached Adele about doing a
fundraiser for Swim on J, Adele had been over the moon excited to
help. But of course, being Adele Westhorpe, she’d gone overboard.
Ricca studied Beckett’s face. Was he angry with her? “I’m sorry. I
know it’s none of my business. But I wanted to help. Tom Reynolds
is the client you saw me with the other day. He was so happy with
the proposal fantasy I did that he wanted to do something to thank
me. He’s a general contractor, and I told him about the fire. He
said he’d help get it cleaned up
gratis
. I’m sorry. I was only trying
to help.”

“Ricca, stop.” His large
hands covered hers. “I’m not angry. I just don’t know why you would
do that. I’ve acted like a total moron.”

I love you.
She nearly blurted it out, but instead she said,
“I believe in you and what you’re trying to do. I have always
believed in you, even when you don’t believe in yourself. When are
you going to get that?”

He rubbed a hand over his
stubble. "You scare the shit out of me. My whole life the old man
kept telling me I wasn’t good enough. I’ve been trying to prove him
wrong since I can remember, and I’ve been fucking it up. But you
refuse to give up on me.”

Because I love you, you
idiot. But she couldn’t say that. So she said. “I don’t give up
easily.” She clanked around the living area and blushed at the
complete disarray. They’d made a mess last night. “Beckett, what
are we doing here?”

He shook his head. “I
don’t know. But I know better than to push you away. I need you too
much and I’m tired of fighting it.”

But he didn’t love her.
That was okay. For as long as she could have him she would. She
could keep it casual. It didn’t matter to her what would happen to
her heart later. For the time being Beckett Mills was hers and
she’d take him.

"Only you can be in charge
of what you want and how you get there. Not me, and certainly not
your moron of a father. Just you. What do you want to do from
here?"

A wicked gleam spread over
his face, and she felt the instant flash of heat. God, he was
really hot. Giggling, she scooted out of the way. "What time is it?
We can't just laze around; we have to get ready for the
party."

“Everything we can do has
been taken care of. You have the whole morning with me." He looked
up to meet her gaze. The vulnerability in his eyes broke her heart.
"That is, if you want to spend the night with me."

She flushed. Then nodded.
"But whatever would we do?"

She giggled as his hands
traveled up her thighs and coaxed them open. "I guess you have a
few ideas."

He growled, the low sound
sending shivers up her spine. "You bet I have a couple of
ideas.”

She giggled again. Was
this what it felt like to be with someone who got her? Someone who
could make her laugh and want to throw things? Who could make her
toes curl and make her want to dance. Cause she could get used to
this.

Beckett grabbed her and
halted right before their lips met. "You’re incredible to behold,
Ricca."

Heaven. Ricca was actually
in heaven. Beckett was hers. No fantasy, though she had a few she'd
like to try out, could compare to the real thing. It was real. God,
it was awesome. No insecurity.

He couldn't seem to get
enough. They'd nearly been caught twice on the flight back. And
that would not have been good. Not just unprofessional, but
culturally unacceptable. But Beckett…Well, Beckett was Beckett, and
she had a really hard time denying him anything, even when she knew
she should.

"Ricca, you plan on
joining us for this meeting? Ricca?"

Heat suffused her cheeks.
Shit. Had she been caught day dreaming? "Um." Damn it. What was she
supposed to be doing again? Oh, debrief. Right. Beckett had just
gone over the report for the action adventure stuff. It was her
turn to talk about love. Something she was so uniquely able to do.
She could do this. She'd given a million of these debriefings. Done
a million in front of Beckett.

But this time as his ocean
blue eyes watched her, she knew the way they watched her in bed as
he focused on making her scream in pleasure. She knew how they
roamed over her body when she walked around the room naked.
Damn it. Ricca, pay attention.

She cleared her throat.
"Sorry. Still jet-lagged."

She could have sworn she
heard Beckett cough, but she ignored him. "The love portion of the
event went as expected. Client ratings for the harem were
spectacular. I believe it's an experience that should become part
of our portfolio."

She could actually feel
Beckett peeling off layers of her clothing one at a time. As she
continued with the debriefing, she had to keep her eyes straight on
Serena and Zach, to keep her voice cool. It was the longest meeting
of her life.

Afterward, Beckett didn't
meet her gaze. But that was no surprise. Immediately, half the men
in the office circled around him. All wanting to know what it was
like to ride in a Bugatti Veyron. Whatever. She needed to get her
head on straight. No mistakes. For all intents and purposes, just
because they were sleeping together didn’t mean they weren’t still
in competition. If she forgot that, she'd be in trouble and
reporting to Beckett. Nothing, not even Beckett would stand in her
way of obtaining the promotion. Sleeping with him had nothing to do
with the job.

Once in her office, she
relaxed. Shutting her door behind her, she immediately stripped off
her jacket. She plopped into her chair, and off came the shoes. For
the next half hour, she tried to focus on the myriad of emails,
closing out fantasies and sending information to fantasy
requesters. For a business based on fantasies, there was an awful
lot of paperwork. By the time the phone rang, she was grateful for
the distraction.

Beckett
had never been in more of a hurry to finish a fantasy. Normally, he
was jazzed, adrenaline pumping, energy blazing through his
synapses. He couldn’t wait to join in the fun. Not this time
though. All he could think about was getting his job done and
getting back to Ricca.

Thankfully, his clients
were so pumped they more than made up for the fact that he was
faking his enthusiasm. As he watched the techs suit the three
fraternity brothers for their base jump, he surreptitiously watched
the clock. Midnight wasn't an ideal time for something like this,
but it added to the danger. Shit. And Ricca thought
he
was an adrenaline
junkie.

"You’re sure you're not
jumping with us tonight, man?" Conner, the tallest of the three
asked. "It would be way cool. Cement our bond, or
whatever."

One familiar byproduct of
doing these types of adventure fantasies—the clients always thought
they were his best friends. And in some ways, he was. Especially
for the week-long excursions. This wasn't his first time at the
rodeo with this bunch. They'd done a week on the Amazon two years
ago. For all intents and purposes, they
were
his friends. They'd been back
for two more adventures with him.

Beckett shook his head
anyway. "Not this time, Conner. Got to man the shop. But you guys
have fun. Tell me all about it when you land."

"You’re getting stodgy in
your old age." Connor said, but he let it drop.

Each adventure, Beckett
had always been the one most engaged, the one most enthusiastic
about moving on. Always first to help a client try out whatever
they wanted and making sure he was suited up right next to the
client. But now, Beckett just felt weary.

He made sure the techs
checked and rechecked the equipment. Made sure the ground crew had
the net secured around the building. The permits for that had been
a bitch to obtain. Sure made things easier.

Standing on the roof,
Beckett peeked over the edge. He waited for the rush of adrenaline.
The pounding heartbeat he loved. The feeling of edginess, like he
wasn’t quite sure if he was going to make it out or not. This was
what he'd always lived for.

He stepped back from the
edge. Not anymore. He'd probably always have a dangerous streak in
him. But he didn’t need to prove anything anymore. At least not to
himself. He'd leave the base-jumping for the daytime
activities.

The guys started their
three man countdown. Seven, six, five, four, three, two,
one.
Adios
. As
first Conner, then Michael, then Jason jumped over the edge,
Beckett held his breath and watched. Hoping, praying the chutes
opened the way they were meant to. He hoped the backups didn't
fail. Gosh was this what it felt like to be Ricca watching him act
like a total fool? Was this what she'd felt? It was more than fear.
This bordered on terror. He'd never gotten it before. Never
understood. He’d always been too caught up in what he was feeling
or wanted to feel. Maybe his father was right, and he was a
complete self-absorbed prick.

Silence pierced the air
around him, save for the flapping of material in the wind. Then the
low screams of terror mixed with joy filled the air. Beckett
radioed to the team on the ground. "Chutes open?"

It should have been just a
confirmation. But he was actually freaked out for the first time in
his life. What if something had gone wrong? What if he'd been with
them?

"Yep, all three shoots
open and operational. First landing now."

Breathing a sigh of
relief, Beckett headed for the roof stairs. At least he was done
now and could get back to Ricca. The moment he thought about her,
his body went on full alert, his cock hardening and pressing
insistently against his slacks. Jesus, what she could do to him
when she wasn’t even around. The warmth behind his ribs was a
different feeling than he was used to. It spread from the center of
his chest throughout his whole body.

Shit, he loved her. He'd
always loved her. But the day they'd kissed under the stupid
mistletoe had changed his life forever. As he left the building,
his heart kicked up. Maybe it was time to do something more
permanent about his feelings for Ricca.

He waved a quick goodbye
to the security guard, the sound of his loafers echoing on the tile
floor of the foyer. Exiting the building, he enjoyed the spring
breeze on his face. Maybe he'd stop at the new cupcake place before
he got to hers. They had a red velvet one that he could see himself
licking off her body. His cock jerked again. "Down boy. We'll be
there soon," he muttered.

When he rounded the corner,
he passed a couple in a serious break-up type of situation. The
blond woman was yelling that she still loved the guy and wanted him
back. She clutched onto the guy’s sleeve. The guy shook her off and
muttered that he loved his wife. Wow heavy. Beckett halted. Maybe
he should just take the long way.
No.
He wanted to get back to
Ricca’s. He’d just keep his head down and pretend he wasn’t seeing
the display.

The guy held the woman away
from him and climbed into his cherry red Mercedes Maybach. Beckett
frowned. A red Maybach? He’d seen that car before. Against his
better judgment, he glanced at the guy, and his heart stuttered.
Roberto
? Oh shit
.

As if his head was
functioning on its own volition, Beckett actually looked at the
woman. Their eyes met, and Serena froze.

So. Not. His. Biz. He had
no interest. But now she'd seen him. And there was no avoiding that
he knew something he wished he didn't.

"Beckett,
wait."

Serena’s low tones had him
pausing. He turned to face her. "None of my business, Serena. I'm
not interested."

"Look, I know what it
looks like."

He tried to interrupt.
"Again. Not interested. Not my business. I'll keep it to
myself."

"Please don’t tell Zach.
I—We—It’s not like—"

“Serena, I said I don’t
care. Please stop talking."