Wedding His Takeover Target (10 page)

“It is compared to living in the hotel where the concierge hovers, the maid comes by two or three times a day and you can have your own personal chef and wine steward serve a meal in your suite whenever you desire it. At Jarrod Manor every want is anticipated and provided for before I even make the request. Even my underwear gets ironed.”

Don't think about his underwear.

That anyone could see having their needs taken care of as a nuisance astounded her. “I can't imagine living that way.”

“Our guests demand it. Jarrod Ridge is known for pampering its clientele.”

“Moving away and leaving all this…
assistance
behind must have been difficult for you.”

“Not at all. It's impossible to figure out who you are and what you want out of life when someone else is forcing you down his path, telling you who he expects you to be and making all your decisions for you.”

Again, she heard the bitterness and she understood it. She didn't like having this in common with him. “Your father.”

He inclined his head.

“My parents did the same. They pressured me to follow in their footsteps and get multiple degrees. They couldn't understand that college just wasn't for me even though I scored high on all the entrance exams.”

“Why wasn't college for you?”

She sipped her wine, trying to figure out why she'd just volunteered something she'd not shared with anyone before. Must be the liquor loosening her tongue. She wasn't much of a drinker. “I don't like taking classes. There's too much reading and talking about stuff and not enough doing it.”

“You're a hands-on learner. Nothing wrong with that.”

Something in her softened. She'd never had anybody understand her like that before. And how could he? He barely knew her. Even though her grandparents had emotionally supported her, they had assumed she was delaying college, not skipping it altogether. She'd eventually caved and taken several business classes to keep herself occupied during Russell's deployments, but she'd hated being confined to a classroom. However, she was grateful for those classes now. They helped her manage the inn's budget.

Gavin moved closer—close enough to touch. But she didn't reach out. She wasn't ready to take that step—the one that would end up with the two of them bare-skinned and against
each other. But her belly clenched in anticipation of having him deep inside her.

“Let's soak in the hot tub while we wait for dinner,” he said in that low rumbling jets-coming-over-the-mountain voice of his.

Her skin flushed hot and her gaze shot to the glass doors leading to a deck. “I didn't bring a swimsuit.”

“You don't need one. The tub is completely private.”

“But…what about the staff serving dinner?”

“They've been instructed to leave it in the kitchen.”

“I—I—” Planning to be bold and actually doing it were apparently two different things. And then she noted something out of place in Gavin's perfect world. “There's still snow on the deck. I'm surprised the grounds crew didn't sweep it away like they did on the front walk.”

“I asked the staff to leave it. There's nothing like sitting in a bubbling hot tub, surrounded by snow and staring up at a clear blue star-filled sky through the steam rising from the water.”

The man had a way with words.

“The stars aren't out yet,” she replied hastily.

“True.”

“And more snow is predicted. Won't it be too cloudy to see them?”

“So it will. You're quite practical, aren't you?”

She'd had to be. She'd run away from home on a romantic fantasy of love and collided with cold, harsh reality. While Russell had been off doing his job and supporting his country, she'd been home alone, trying to learn how to manage on a meager budget and hold onto what was left of their life together after she'd miscarried. Luckily, she'd had the guidance and support of a few experienced and big-hearted military wives to point her in the right direction.

“I'm sorry. I don't mean to be a wet blanket.”

Gavin set his glass on the table. “Sabrina, you have nothing to fear from me.”

Like she believed that. The moisture between her legs already proved she had plenty to fear. He had decimated her scruples this morning. And where were those scruples now? She was very tempted to take him up on his offer. To see those broad shoulders glistening wet in the moonlight. To feel those big callused hands rasping over her skin, on her breasts, between her legs. She'd barely been able to think of anything else all day.

She exhaled shakily, turned her back on him and took another sip of wine.
C'mon. You can do this.
“All right. Let's get in the hot tub.”

She started shaking even before she finished the sentence. Golden liquid sloshed around the bowl of her glass.

Gavin moved up behind her. She felt the heat radiating from him even though he didn't touch her. One long arm reached around her and removed the glass from her hand. “Why don't we take a walk before dinner and save the hot tub for later?”

Suspicious, she spun to face him. “Why?”

“You said you'd never toured Jarrod Ridge. We'll burn off a little excess energy and then relax afterward.”

That sounded suspiciously like him being considerate, and she hadn't expected that from him. But she'd take the reprieve. Maybe by the time they returned she'd have found her courage to plunge into the affair. “I'd like to see the grounds.”

He retrieved their coats and then pulled a couple of his thick scarves from the closet. He draped a white one over her head, covering her ears, and then he wound it around her neck. His scent clung to the soft cashmere caressing her cheeks.

He wrapped the black one around his neck, but left his head bare. Within moments they were back outside, their breath fogging the air. Snow had begun falling while they
were inside. Big, fat flakes floated down, piling up on the grassy surfaces. With the temperature dropping it wouldn't be long before it stuck to the sidewalks despite the diligent landscaping crew's efforts to remove it.

She hadn't brought gloves. Bad habit. She tended to forget. Before she could shove her hands into her pockets Gavin caught one and folded his long fingers around her palm. She jumped and tried to pull free.

“Easy. I just want to hold your hand.”

Holding hands. Something so basic and innocent. Something she'd once taken for granted and hadn't bothered to do often enough with her husband. And now she was palm-to-palm with a virtual stranger, and the simple contact rocked her entire body. Gavin's heat seeped into her, traveling up her arm and down her torso to pool in an area that had been dormant for a long time.

He led her along the sidewalks winding through the resort. Snowflakes sparkled in his brown hair like gold dust. Lights glimmered through the trees from the windows of the occupied lodges they passed, then streetlamps flickered on as the sun slipped behind the mountains in the distance.

“Why me, Gavin? You could have your pick of women.” She blurted the question that had been haunting her.

He briefly squeezed her hand, sending a pulse of energy through her. “Why not you? You're beautiful, intelligent and your touch ignites me.”

His quick, decisive answer blew her away. She stumbled. He caught her elbow, keeping her upright. His eyes searched hers then his expression changed from concerned to challenging. “Are you up for a little fun?”

Adrenaline pulsed through her veins. “Maybe. What did you have in mind?”

“Come with me.” He walked a little farther down the sidewalk then ducked between a pair of tall cedars, tugging
her along in the near-darkness to a better lit area. He broke into a jog. She hustled to keep up as he zigged and zagged through the trees. A few hundred yards later, he slowed to a halt in a well-lit clearing behind a shed that looked as if it might house landscaping equipment. Her quickened breaths fogged the air. He wasn't breathing any faster, she noted. He released her, then knelt to open a door hidden in the foundation and pulled out a flat-bottomed wooden snow sled with a curled end.

He straightened with a huge, devilish, big-kid grin on his face that was so contagious she couldn't help smiling back. “It's still here. I wasn't sure it would be after so many years.” He knocked on it in several places with his fist, the sound echoing off the buildings around them in the near-silence of the evening. “The wood is still solid.”

Flakes drifted down around them, heavier now than before. “You're taking me sledding?”

He swept the dust off the surface. “Sure. Why not?”

It was a far cry from flipping her on her back and having his way with her, but as he said…
why not?
“I've never been sledding.”

His eyes narrowed. “It snows in Pennsylvania.”

“My parents weren't the sledding type. And snow wasn't common in the eastern part of North Carolina where Russell was stationed.”

“Russell? Your husband?”

Speaking his name in front of Gavin seemed…strange, but it had just slipped out. And it felt…okay. “Yes.”

“And you never sledded with your grandparents?”

“I was usually only here in the summers except for quick trips some Christmases with my parents. My father didn't get along with Pop—his father—and he couldn't wait to get out of here, so we didn't stay long.”

“Then it's time to make up for what you've missed.” He
tucked the sled under one arm, draped the other across her shoulders and guided her through the darkness away from the lights of the resort and across the snow-covered slope. Their torsos and thighs bumped and nudged with each step, overloading her senses so much she barely noticed the cold.

“Watch your step. The ground is slick.”

“Where are we going?”

“Up the mountain a bit. This same path leads to the mine.” At the top of a slope he turned. “Climb on. Put your feet against the front.”

Nervous, she shifted in her boots. “How do you steer this thing?”

“By shifting your weight or dragging a hand. But let me worry about that.”

She reluctantly eased onto the flat surface. Gavin settled behind her with his strong legs flanking hers, his hips snug against her bottom, and his chest flush with her back, warming her in the rapidly dropping temperature. His arms encircled her and her breath hitched. He held the rope in his fists. “Ready?”

“Ummm.” Excitement and anxiety shimmied over her. “I guess so.”

His cheek pressed hers. He nudged her scarf aside until his lips brushed her ear. “You're going to have to trust me, Sabrina. I won't let anything bad happen to you.”

Trust seemed a lot to ask from someone he barely knew, but it was too late to back out now. “Let's go.”

S
abrina had never looked more attractive than she did now, flat on her back with her cold-reddened nose and cheeks, excitement sparkling in her eyes and a huge smile on her face.

For about two seconds Gavin considered making love to her out here in the open in the powdery snow. But while instant gratification might be exciting and physically satisfying, it wouldn't be comfortable for either of them. First, it was too damned cold, and second, security was bound to spot them out here in the milky moonlight.

So he offered her a hand and tugged her to her feet instead of giving in to his body's demands. Her fingers felt like ice in his and white clumps of snow caked the ends of her long hair as she turned to admire the snow angel she'd made in the deepening snow. Her third. But she'd been having such a good time he'd hated to interrupt.

“Your hands are frozen and your clothes are wet. Let's get you back to the lodge to warm up.”

“Do we have to?”

Her enthusiasm acted as one hell of a payoff for his patience. “There's no need to risk frostbite.”

“That was fun.” She grinned up at him. “Thank you.”

“For?”

“Teaching me to play in the snow.”

Her sincerity tightened his chest. As much as he'd hated his childhood, hers must have been worse. At least he and his brothers had had those stolen moments when they'd escaped their father. “You're welcome. I'm glad I could share a few firsts with you.”

And he meant it. Her enthusiasm and excitement these past two hours had been contagious. From her squeals as they raced down the slope to her learning to make snowballs and snow angels, he'd found more enjoyment watching her have fun than he'd had in a long time. Meeting Sabrina almost made his year of exile worth it.

And then because he couldn't resist, he bent to taste her smile. She met him halfway, going on tiptoe, leaning into his chest and wrapping her arms around his neck. Her lips and nose were cold, but her kiss was hot—hot enough to make his head steam and his groin heavy.

Their tongues sparred, their breaths blended. How could he possibly want a woman this badly when he'd already had sex once today? The hunger gripped him so tightly he reconsidered risking an embarrassing encounter with The Ridge's security staff. His brothers would never let him live that down. But once he got Sabrina back to the lodge he could linger over her soft skin, her long legs, her—

Scratch that. He'd linger the second time. The first time was going to be fast. And hot. And hard. He pried his mouth from hers to suck air into his lungs. Chest bellowing, he grabbed her hand, snatched up the sled and towed her toward a warm bed.

“In a hurry?” she panted a few minutes later.

He slowed his steps. “I want you naked.”

She gasped and tripped. He caught her and kissed the O of her mouth, adding fuel to the fire in his gut. Her earlier reservations apparently forgotten, she clutched his jacket and held him close. But not close enough. The layers of down and assorted shirts and sweaters and wet denim blocked him from what he wanted.

He broke the kiss. “Let's go.”

He avoided the paths that would take him past his siblings' accommodations because he didn't want to be waylaid. Sabrina hurried alongside him. His plan to get her to relax by taking a walk had succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. Now she seemed as eager to get back to the lodge as he was. And he was the one wound up. Embarrassingly so.

He said a silent thanks when his temporary home came into view. After propping the sled against the porch wall he wasted no time swiping the key card and shoving open the door. Warm air, carrying the scent of dinner, rushed through the portal to greet them. His stomach grumbled, but he had a more urgent appetite to satisfy before he could eat. He craved the taste of Sabrina. Her mouth. Her breasts. The sweetness hidden within her dark curls.

“It feels good in here,” she said as she reached for her coat's zipper.

“Over here.” Grasping her shoulders, he steered her to the fireplace. He pitched another log onto the flames then turned to face her. “We'll leave our clothes by the fire to dry out.”

A moment of doubt flickered over her face, but he wasn't going to lose ground now. He reached for her scarf, unwound it from her head, then dispensed with her coat. He draped each over a chair which he angled toward the flames, then shed his own gear. Her shirt, like his, was dry because of the outerwear but her jeans were wet from the melted snow.

“Sit.” He pointed to the raised hearth.

With a hiked eyebrow, Sabrina sank onto the stones. He removed her boots and socks, then massaged warmth back into her cold feet. “I kept you out too long. You're cold.”

Her smile nearly blinded him. “No. Not too long. Tonight was perfect. I wouldn't have wanted to miss a minute of it.” Then as his thumbs dug into her instep, she purred, “That feels good.”

He'd make her feel even better before the night was through. “Stand.”

“You like giving orders.” But she rose.

“Hazard of the job. Comes with being the one in charge.” He unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, then peeled the soggy fabric over her hips. It bunched around her thighs. She wasn't wearing panties—the reminder punched him hard in the solar plexus. She wasn't wearing them because he'd spotted them on the tack room floor earlier and stuffed them into his coat pocket. “You're missing something.”

He retrieved the plain white cotton bikinis from his coat and dropped them on the floor.

“You had them in your pocket all day?”

Her scandalized tone made him chuckle. “Yes.” And the knowledge had driven him wild. He hadn't forgotten until the sight of her playing in the snow had overridden the idea.

He eased the wet, clingy jeans down her legs. “Sit.”

“Are you always this bossy?”

“Only when there's something I want very badly. And I want you so badly my jaw aches from gritting my teeth against the need to be inside you.”

Her lashes fluttered and her pupils widened. “Are you always so…verbal?”

“Yes. Does it bother you?”

“No. I—I think I like it.” She sat. He stripped the garment from her and tossed it onto the hearth where it could dry
without catching fire, then he chafed her cold, reddened thighs with his hands.

But as her skin warmed beneath his palms, he discovered touching her legs wasn't nearly enough. The hem of her shirt played peekaboo with the dark triangle between her thighs, mesmerizing him, tantalizing him, beckoning him. He whisked her shirt over her head, then released and removed her bra and tossed both aside.

He considered planting his face in her lap and bringing her to a climax, but he wanted more. “I want to caress you, to taste you—your skin, your breasts. But I specifically crave this spot.” He dragged a fingertip beneath each soft curve, making her gasp. “You smell so damned good there.”

He rose, his legs unusually unsteady as he took in her almost naked form in front of the fire. His erection pulsed behind his zipper, demanding release.

She arched her back to the heat, thrusting her puckered nipples in his direction with mouthwatering effectiveness. The fact that she was probably trying to dry her wet hair and seemed unconscious of the eroticism of the move made it all the more irresistible. He stripped off his boots and clothing, pulled her to her feet and yanked her close.

She gasped and stiffened. “You're cold.”

“No, baby, I'm burning up. For you. Feel what you do to me.” He pressed his erection into her belly and her soft skin teased him.

He lost control of the kiss even before his lips met hers. He wanted to absorb her, better yet, to burrow under her skin. Instead, he wound his arms around her as tightly as he could and devoured her mouth with hungry bites and greedy swipes of his tongue—all of which she returned.

How had she done this to him? He usually had more control.

He tried to tame the need, tried to slow his caresses. But
she felt too good in his arms and the fire in his belly burned as hot as molten steel. He couldn't get enough of her. He cupped and massaged her breasts, tweaking her nipples until she whimpered into his mouth. He thrust his leg between hers, and gripping her hips, encouraged her to ride him. She eased back and forth, hesitantly at first and then found her rhythm.

“You are so wet,” he groaned against her cheek, then gasped for air. The knowledge sent a sharp stab of hunger straight to his penis. Her moisture eased the glide of her flesh over his thigh. She trembled ever so slightly, but enough to let him know she was as turned on and close to the edge as he. “Are you ready for me?”

“Yes,” she whispered breathlessly.

He couldn't wait any longer. He eased his fingers between them and found her slickness. The scent of her arousal rose up to greet him, and his heart slammed against his chest.

He stroked her center, circling her tender flesh again and again until her back bowed over his arm, granting him access to the sweet taste of her nipple. He rolled the tight bud with his tongue, grazed it with his teeth, then sucked it deep into his mouth. He sampled the other, licking, biting, sucking. “Do you like me touching you, Sabrina?”

“Yes. Yes. I do.” Her cries of release echoed off the high ceiling. Then, near the breaking point, he bent his knees, determined to take her on the rug in front of the fire and pulling her down with him.

“Wait.” She remained standing as he kissed his way down her tummy. “Do you have a condom?”

Her question yanked him back to reality. “In the bedroom.”

The bedroom seemed a mile away. But they couldn't take any more unnecessary risks. He swept her into his arms and
carried her to his room. Despite her height, she weighed practically nothing in his arms.

The maid had already been in and turned on the bedside lamp, folded down the covers and left chocolate truffles on the pillows. He laid Sabrina on the sheets and pushed the confections away. The only thing he wanted to feast on was her.

On second thought…

He snatched up one chocolate and unwrapped it, watching curiosity fill her eyes. He licked her nipple, dampening it, then pressed the chocolate to the tight tip.

She gasped and flinched. “It's cold.”

“It won't be for long.” He circled her puckered flesh, leaving a melting chocolate trail on first one hard, dusky pink areola, then the other. Desire flushed her face and chest. Her eyelids fell to half-mast, and she bit her bottom lip which was already swollen, red and damp from his passionate kisses. Beautiful.

She shifted restlessly beneath him, her breaths stuttering in, then out again. “That feels…g-good.”

He lapped up the chocolate, being sure to do a thorough job before he reapplied the confection once, twice, a third time until the only thing left was the smudge on his fingertips. When every trace of the chocolate was gone from her breasts, he offered her his hand. “Lick me.”

Without hesitation, she grasped his wrist and sucked a chocolate-covered finger deep into her mouth. The sight of his flesh disappearing between her lips combined with the swirl of her tongue over his skin pushed him perilously close to the edge.

“You're driving me crazy, baby. I like your mouth on me.” He shook with hunger, and could barely wait until she cleaned the last of the chocolate from him before he kissed her, their mouths mingling the tastes of candy and desire.

Gasping, she pushed him away. “Condom.”

He groaned, then yanked open the nightstand drawer and grabbed protection. Where was his head? He didn't make stupid mistakes like forgetting precautions. Certainly not twice.

After he'd taken care of business, she extended her arms, beckoning him. He stroked her thighs apart and savored the sight of her glistening sex, then moved into position. Her lids drifted shut, her head turned away.

“Open your eyes. Look at me.”

Her lashes fluttered upward and their gazes locked. Gritting his teeth against the urge to drive deep and hard, he eased in, one arm-quaking inch at a time. His pulse hammered in his ears. Need burned his gut, licking like the flames of a wildfire at the base of his spine and snaking out in hot streaks. Watching pleasure expand her pupils and part her lips magnified every sensation. “Tell me what you want.”

Sabrina grasped his hips. “Please, now. Hurry. I'm so close.”

The dam of his control broke. He thrust deep, hard and fast, riding the crest of desire. He tortured himself with restraint, teetering on the edge as he stroked her to climax with his thumb. Her inner contractions put another crack in his control but he fought off his release. He wasn't ready for this to end. Not yet.

She arched off the bed, banding her arms around his neck, and then her breath fanned his ear a split second before her tongue outlined the rim, then her teeth closed on his lobe. The love bite sent him reeling and he lost it. Wave after wave of hot, molten pleasure erupted through him until spent, he collapsed to his elbows above her with her cries echoing in his ears.

Her body spasmed around his with aftershocks, and the gentle clutching and releasing was almost too exquisite to
bear. He eventually found the strength to separate from her and ease onto his back beside her. Shaken by the intensity of the experience, he stared at the ceiling.

Why her? Why did this woman who'd been forced upon him have the power to rock his world and decimate his control like no other?

He'd be damned if he knew. But he would find out.

Because if he didn't, losing her could destroy him the way losing his mother had destroyed his father.

 

She had to get out of here, Sabrina decided once her lassitude eased and her brain resumed functioning.

She turned her head to study Gavin through the steam rising from the hot tub and visually traced the strong line of his jaw and throat and his broad, wet shoulders—the same line her hands and mouth already had taken three times today. She tried to work up a little shame for her day of debauchery…and failed.