Taking It All (6 page)

He presses my knees together.

Grayson

A virgin.

My sweet girl is a virgin.

I couldn't be happier.

No other man has had her. No other man ever will.

She'll stay a virgin. Until our wedding. It's probably going to fucking kill me, but it's the best way to handle this.

She might be ex-mormon, but she probably still holds onto some of her former  beliefs. I don't want to push her too hard, too fast.

I'll just have to keep reminding myself she's mine. All mine. It's just a matter of time.

A short time, I hope.

Very short. Because now that I've tasted her, touched her, I can't let her go.

To that end, I have the perfect plan. I have her where I want her. Under my protection. Alone. Where I can just focus on her. And she on me.

Before we return home, she
will
agree to be my wife. Or we won't go home.

Have I crossed a line? Have I gone too far to make this beautiful woman mine? Perhaps. But I don't give a damn. I need some time to show her all men aren't (sick, cheating) bastards. I need to make her feel safe with me. For that to happen, I have to take some risks.

It'll be worth it in the end.

The landing bell chimes.

Good. Perfect timing. Because if I'd been forced to stay in this plane with this lovely creature for another fifteen minutes, I wouldn't be able to resist taking her.

She's ready. She's willing.

And my dick is more than happy to oblige.

No.

I grab her skirt and slip it over her ankles.

“I guess this means we'll be cutting our date short?” she says, her pretty face flushed the most flattering shade of pink I've ever seen.

“Absolutely not.”

“Huh. Okay.” She rises up on her knees and tugs her skirt up, covering her sweet pussy and ass. It's a fucking crime to cover them up.

“That chime. It means we're about to land,” I explain.

“Oh.” She nods and adjusts her top, hiding those lush tits from view once more. Within seconds all her clothes are righted again. Her hair, however, has a sexy, tousled just-fucked look that I love. She allows me to lead her back out to the main cabin, sits and peers out the window. “Where are we?” she asks, facing the window but glancing over her shoulder at me, eyes big and full of curiosity. “All I see is water.”

“We're going to one of my favorite places in the world.” I feel the plane drifting lower, circling around to prepare for landing. Leaning over her, I search the sparkling blue landscape below for the island. I inhale deeply, drawing in the intoxicating scent of her skin and hair. “There.” I point.

“That little island? It's so tiny. And it looks very remote.”

“It is. That's why I love it so much. Though it's bigger than it looks from up here.”

The plane dips and she stiffens. I set my hands on her shoulders to reassure her. I don't regret bringing her to my private getaway, however I do feel shitty about the flight. It'll be worth it, I tell myself.

Feeling slightly guilty for taking full advantage of her skittery nerves during the landing, I hold her sweet little body close until we're on solid ground. Then, once the jet is parked, I stand and take her hand in mine. This time I get out first then help her. I refuse to let Jake lay a hand on her.

She gasps.

“I did the same thing the first time I came here,” I admit.

“It's gorgeous.”

“We'll take a walk later and explore the island. Let's go inside and have some dinner first.” I place a hand on the small of her back and steer her toward the house.

Ed, the full time caretaker, greets me as we approach. As usual, his friendly, weathered face makes me smile. “Welcome back, sir,” he says, sliding a look at my Jordan. “Dinner is set out for you on the back deck.”

“Thank you, Ed. It's good to see you again. How is your daughter?” I inquire. Last month he'd taken some time off to take care of her while she went through treatment for early breast cancer. I'm hoping the treatment was successful. Family is everything, the most important thing in the world. I can't wait to have a family of my own.

Soon.

“She's doing well, thank you,” Ed tells me. “We're waiting for test results, to find out if they got all the cancer. The doctors are optimistic. The odds are on her side. It was caught early.”

“I'm glad to hear that. Let me know if you need more time off.”

He takes my hand, and a his soft gray eyes get teary. “Thank you. For everything.”

“You're welcome, my friend.” I motion to Jordan, who has been standing by my side quietly watching the whole exchange. “This is Ed,” I explain to her. “He's been working for me since before his daughter was born. He's like family.”

Ed smiles. “I've been looking after this rascal since he was a pimply-faced teenager. You've got yourself a good guy,” he says, giving me a pat on the back. “A very good guy.”

Jordan offers her hand. “It's nice to meet you. I hope your daughter gets some good news about her treatment.”

“Thank you. Now, I better get back to work. Don't want the boss to get angry.” He winks and scurries off as we head inside.

Just inside the front door, Jordan hesitates for a moment. “Wow,” she says, her gaze focused on the floor-to-ceiling windows spanning the entire back wall of the open living-slash-dining-slash-kitchen space. “What a view.”

“Breathtaking, isn't it?” I ask, referring to her, not the scenery.

“Yes.”

She follows my lead out the back door where dinner (and a very special surprise for
my
Jordan) has been set out. Silver covers hide what's on our plates underneath. The champagne bottle chills in a bucket of ice. I hold her chair and push it in for her. Then I take my own seat and fill our glasses. I'm nervous but I do my best to hide it.

After serving both of us, I lift my glass. “To the future.”

“The future.” She taps her glass to mine and sips, peering over the rim at me.

My heart twists.

I want this woman. In my life. In my bed.

I want to taste her. To touch her. To hold her.

I want to give her the world. Everything she wants. Everything she needs.

Will she trust me?

I wait for her to lift the cover off her plate with my heart in my throat. She's not expecting what's underneath.

It's pure agony.

She gives me a shy look then picks up the cover.

She stares down for one, two, three agonizing seconds.

Finally she looks at me. “What's this?”

It's time.

I reach across the table and grab the small box sitting on her plate before dropping onto one knee beside her. I flip up the top, displaying the ring inside. “Jordan, I know it hasn't been long....that we've just...started getting to know one another...”

Fuck, I've forgotten the beautiful speech I had planned and rehearsed all day. It's gone. That's never happened before.

I open my mouth and let the words flow, “I'm begging you. Make me the happiest man on earth. Marry me.”

Her sweet little mouth forms an O.

She blinks once. Twice. Three times.

Is she going to answer me?

My insides do loop-the-loops.

Still nothing. I can't stand this painful silence.

I say, “I know this is probably unexpected--”

“You can say that again,” she murmurs. She looks down at the ring again.

“But it is genuine,” I tell her. “I want you to be my wife.”

Her pretty eyes find mine. “We barely know each other. It's been one day. One.”

“Does time matter if you
know
you've found the right one?” I challenge, sliding back into my chair.

“How can you know I'm the right one after one day? You know nothing about me.” Her hands clench in her lap.

I scoot my chair closer to hers. I have to be near her.
Have
to be. “I know you pack a mean punch.”

Her sweet lips quirk. “If anything, that should make you run the other way.”

“But I'm not running. I respect you for standing up for yourself. I respect your independent streak. Your strength in the face of adversity. You're like me. Only better. Much, much better.”

Her shy smile fades. “I'm nobody special, Grayson.” She traces the rim of her champagne glass with a dainty finger. “Look at you. You're rich. Insanely good looking.”

Yes! She thinks I'm good looking!
Hearing that makes my heart swell.

She continues, “I'm sure there are lots of smart, rich, beautiful women who would die to be your wife.”

But damn it, she doesn't get it yet.

I don't care about other women. I want her. She needs to see that. To accept it.

“Maybe there are other women,” I tell her, “but they're not the ones I want. I want you. Beautiful. Intelligent. Self reliant.”

“Stubborn,” she adds.

“Tenacious,” I shoot back.

“Proud,” she says.

“Spirited.”

She shakes her head. “You're turning a blind eye to my faults, what few you know about. You have no idea about the rest. Don't you remember the conversation we had earlier? About wanting to believe the fantasy?”

“No, I see what you're calling 'faults' as strengths,” I say, making air quotes. “I'm not denying them. What other so-called faults are there? I'll tell you mine. I have many, but I'll start with the obvious first. I never take no for an answer. I'm stubborn as hell. When I want something I do whatever it takes to have it--”

“Like me?” she asks, cutting me off.

“Like you,” I confess with a nod.

“So this trip...?”

I nod again. Maybe she'll hate me for this. Fuck, I hope she doesn't. But I have to tell her the truth if she's going to trust me. “We're not here to have a little dinner and then fly home. I
will
get my way.”

Her lips pull into a thin line. “Meaning, I'll accept your proposal? Or what?”

A lump forms in my throat. Her tone is changing. I hear it. And I see the tension building in her face and body. But I won't sugar coat the truth. “Or we won't leave.”

She visibly swallows. “You're holding me hostage?”

“Am I?” I sweep an arm, indicating our magnificent surroundings. “Is this the kind of place one keeps a hostage?”

She folds her arms over her chest. “Okay, you got me on that one. It's the kind of place you go on a vacation. But that doesn't change the fact that I can't leave.”

“Actually, you can leave.” I shrug. “After you give me what I want.”

She shakes her head. Still, that shy smile is back. So far, so good. She doesn't hate me yet. “Why? Why are you so hellbent on marrying
me
? A girl you barely know?”

“We went through this already.” I take one of her hands in mine, turning it palm up, and place the box in it. “Just accept. I want you. You want me. Why should we play around?”

She scoots her chair back and stands.

She sets the box on the table.

Damn. I'm not getting my yes. Not yet.

But that's okay. I'll fight for it.

I watch her walk to the edge of the deck. She grips the railing and stares straight ahead, at the glittering lake and the brilliant sky, painted shades of purple and salmon. I step behind her, slide my hands around her waist and scoop her hair into my hand, smoothing it over her shoulder. “What are you afraid of?” I ask, trailing little butterfly kisses down the side of her neck.

She shivers. Goose bumps coat her shoulder and arm but she doesn't move away. No, she leans back, into me. Feeling her soft ass pillowed against my thigh makes my cock turn to concrete.

“I'm afraid of making a mistake,” she whispers.

“Everyone's afraid of that. And more than half the time they should be. But this is no mistake. This is real. And good. And forever.” I nuzzle her neck, inhaling deeply. I can't get enough of her. Of her scent. Her taste. Her touch.

She slowly turns, facing me. My hands rest on her waist as she shuffles around. “How can you be so sure?”

“I just am.” I pull her flush to me and slant my mouth over hers. I'm going to go fucking nuts, kissing her but not taking her. But I can't help myself. I'm addicted to this woman.

At first she kisses me back shyly. Sweetly. I enjoy every second of the torture. But then she surrenders and her breathing rasps in the silence. I deepen the kiss and our tongues tangle and battle. With every thundering heartbeat my body grows hotter, tighter. My cock more rigid.

I'm fucking dying but I can't stop.

Her fingers tangle in my hair, tugging slightly, and I return the favor, fisting her silky strands and using the tension to keep her in place. “These lips are mine,” I murmur against her mouth. “This hair. Mine.” My right hand slides lower, down her neck, over her shoulder, lower to her breast. “Mine.” I pinch her nipple through her clothes and she whimpers. That sexy little sound almost makes me cum. I bite my lip and fight to hold back the cum burning at the base of my cock. Once I'm sure I won't shoot my load, I move that hand lower, down her stomach, which will someday be swollen with my child. Over her mound. I slide it between her thighs and she quivers. “Mine.” Once again my cock rears as if it's trying to drill through my pants.