Yours for the Night (12 page)

“Chase.” Her voice was sweeter than the music.

“I need to catch my breath.” He needed to write the moment into his gray matter never to be forgotten, the lace of her stockings beneath his fingers, the silky caress of her pussy, the decadent scent of chocolate, port, and his semen on her breath. In his right mind, he knew it was simply that he’d been without a woman’s body for so long. In his animal brain, it was all about her. She tightened her thighs, urging him deeper. “Take me, baby,” she said on nothing more than a breath.

When he moved, she was heaven. God, how he’d missed this. As he plunged again, she shivered around him. He’d never had this, an insatiable need. He didn’t want to come, because then it would be over. He didn’t want to stop touching her, because then she could leave.

His body trembled, his legs ached, yet the scent of her enthralled him and the feel of her sent him over the edge. He didn’t know whether the crescendo of music was in his head or if it had covered his shout of release. He lost his very essence inside her. When he came to his senses, they were on the carpet, wrapped in each other.

Chase thanked God that he’d finally learned how to pretend the last year had never happened.

RACHMANINOFF HAD NEVER SOUNDED SO GOOD. IT WAS LIKE HER own personal fairy tale. At midnight, Chase helped her inside the Cadillac he’d called for her, and she sped away into the night as if she were Cinderella. Thank God the car didn’t turn into a pumpkin.

She held out the gorgeous ring he’d bought her. The thought he put into it made her weak-kneed all over again.

The evening had been so perfect. Like a real date. All right, with a real date, she wouldn’t have dragged him into the dark and taken his cock in her mouth. Being a courtesan gave her a boldness she’d never felt before, and she was glad. She’d wanted to give that to Chase. She’d wanted that for herself. Jewel claimed it was the money that made being a courtesan so sexy. But Chase was what made it sexy for her. It couldn’t be as good with another man 73

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no matter how much money she got. Marianna wanted Chase whether he paid or not.

Oh God, she was in trouble. High-priced call girls weren’t supposed to become attached to their clients.

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11

“I HATE TO RAIN ON YOUR PARADE, MARIANNA, BUT ARE YOU SURE you want to put all your eggs in one basket?” Wow. Isabel had used two clichés in one sentence.

Marianna stirred cream into her coffee. It was a not-so-busy Monday afternoon, and she’d dashed over to the coffee bar across the street from the brokerage to give herself the opportunity to return Isabel’s call.

“I know we’ve had several dates,” she said, which would sound innocuous to anyone listening in, “but I think this is working well.”

“As a courtesan, that’s not good, Marianna. It’s best if you establish a clientele, a list.”

Marianna didn’t want a list. She didn’t want Brock Ransom. She wanted Chase. In the week and a half since the symphony, they’d had two more fabulous dates. Their third time together, he wowed her with an elegant French restaurant up in the Santa Cruz Mountains. On the way home, they’d had sex in the back of a stretch limousine. He’d given her a sapphire-and-diamond bracelet, which he said he’d purchased because it was the only piece he’d seen that was fine enough to fit her delicately boned wrist. Her heart beat faster simply remembering the look on his face as he’d fastened it. He’d taken her dancing on the fourth date. He was surprisingly good, far more skilled than she was, but they’d had so much fun despite her two left feet. He made love to her hidden in a little alcove off a back hall of the dance club and rewarded her with a sapphireand-diamond necklace that matched the bracelet. Exciting, sexy, tantalizing, he swept her away. It wasn’t the jewelry. It wasn’t all the sex and fun. They actually talked. She felt like she knew his daughter with all the things he’d said about her. He’d told her about his work, that he was a CEO for a big company up in the city. They discussed their political and social views. The only thing he didn’t talk about was his wife. Marianna understood. But she was starting to need a little more. Like a bed and a whole night with him.

She sure didn’t tell Isabel that. She hadn’t told Jewel either. Jewel would totally freak out, so Marianna hadn’t had the courage even to call her.

“When he’s no longer interested”—thinking about it seemed to curdle the 75

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cream in her coffee—“I’ll consider increasing my client list.” She grabbed a lid for her cup.

“Marianna, I just think that four dates in a little over two weeks is escalating beyond where a courtesan should go.”

“But this was his fantasy, a girlfriend experience. That’s what I’m giving him.”

A couple moved up to the condiment bar. Marianna grabbed her coffee and shifted away, lowering her voice. “We both know it’s just a fantasy.”

Except that sometimes Marianna dreamed it was more.

“I’m only suggesting that you keep it on a casual basis.”

Marianna wasn’t like Jewel. She wasn’t good at casual sexual relationships. She knew that for the moment she was living in a secret world she’d created for herself. In a little while, she’d have to worry about next month’s bills, but for now, today, tomorrow, she didn’t care. She’d enjoy Chase for as long as she could. “I promise to just have fun and not get too serious. Might I ask if he called?” She didn’t want to sound desperate.

“He did. He’s planned something for Thursday night.” Isabel sighed. “I don’t need to ask if you’re interested.”

Marianna actually counted the days before she’d see him. “Thursday would be great.” So great. “Did he mention where we’d be going?”

“Only that you should dress very casually—jeans, sweatshirt, that kind of attire. Meet him outside the San Jose Fairmont at six. You can park in the hotel garage.”

The Fairmont. A ritzy hotel. What she’d been waiting for. But he wanted her to wear jeans and sweatshirt? That was odd. “Should I bring overnight things, then, since it’s a hotel?”

“He didn’t say to do that.”

Her stomach dropped. Okay, not what she was hoping for. But gee, it could be something better, and she wasn’t about to let herself get down. “I can be there by six.” She’d have enough time to get home, shower, put on fresh makeup. If she hurried.

“Be careful not to get overly involved, Marianna.”

“I won’t.”

Too late—she already was.

MARIANNA’S EYES DANCED WITH LAUGHTER AS SHE PERCHED ON the edge 76

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of her seat. The crowd went ape as the lights dimmed, and the mammoth shark’s head dropped slowly from the arena ceiling. It landed, creating a tunnel from the locker room to the ice, and fake smoke swirled across the rink. Marianna’s knee brushed Chase’s as she screamed just as loudly as everyone else when the first player shot out of the shark’s mouth.

“I cannot believe you wanted a date to a hockey game,” she shouted in his ear to be heard over the shrieks and catcalls as the opposing Hurricanes hit the ice.

Chase knew she loved it. “There’s nothing like a game at the Shark Tank.”

Chase used the noise as an excuse to nuzzle her hair. “I was a fan even when they played at the Cow Palace.”

The opening lines of the national anthem began, and everyone stood. Flush up against his side, Marianna belted out the words, slightly off-key when she hit the high notes. His ears rang with all the shouting, screaming, and laughter mixed with the scratchy music over the loudspeakers. The spectators sat as the last note faded away, then came the coin toss, the slice of sticks across the ice, and the puck started flying. Marianna grabbed his hand and shouted a curse as an opposing player did . .

. something. Chase didn’t see. He only had eyes for her, her cheeks glowing pink with excitement.

He’d worn his Sharks jersey. It hadn’t been out of the drawer in a couple of years. After meeting at the Fairmont, they’d walked the three-quarters of a mile to the arena. He’d had her park in the hotel garage because it was safe there and because he’d wanted her to be surprised with their destination. She had been. Despite her comment, he felt her delight in his belly. The Sharks scored fast, the fans jumping to their feet and screeching. Marianna did, too, pulling him with her, throwing her arms around him and dancing in the foot space in front of their seats. He felt as if her body touched him everywhere—thighs, chest, cock, heart, mind. He drank her in, fingers clenching in her sweatshirt. Then she threw herself back in her seat, clapping, shouting. She’d be hoarse tomorrow.

He watched her eye a steaming plastic container of nachos as a guy in the next seat started munching. She licked her lips. An overpowering urge to kiss her, touch her, took him over. A hand beneath the fall of hair at her nape, he pulled her close. “You want some nachos?”

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She clutched the front of his jersey. “God, yes.”

He felt her words as if she were begging for his cock, and when he rose to push his way out to the aisle, he was damn glad his jersey covered the evidence. He returned to find her heckling a couple of Hurricane fans seated in front of her. She laughed, stuck her tongue out, the two guys shook their fists. The symphony had been good, so had dinner and dancing. But this was fucking fantastic. He’d wanted something different, something unique, to watch her laugh, see her have fun. She surpassed every expectation he had. Grabbing a cheese-laden chip, she closed her eyes, savored the bite, then licked her lips clean. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed to be with a woman who could enjoy a great big bite of life the way she did. She turned everything into an experience.

“God, that was good,” she shouted. He could barely hear her. She dipped another chip in the tangy sauce and fed this one to him. Half the cheese ended up on his lips. Leaning in, she wiped him clean with her tongue. Then she nipped, and finally, she took his mouth in a short, hot kiss that sent his blood pumping like fire through his veins.

If there hadn’t been ten thousand Sharks fans there, he’d have pulled her on top of him right where they sat.

With the next score, she almost dumped the nachos on the floor. Chase rescued them. She covered her mouth and smiled an apology. Had she a clue what she did to him?

He’d started out forcing himself to pretend she was a date, pretend what they were doing was reality, pretend the bad times with Rosie had never happened. But as Marianna sipped on her beer, then licked the foam mustache from her upper lip, he knew this was reality. Her. The way she laughed, the way she screamed an obscenity along with the rest of the crowd when a Hurricane player committed an egregious foul, the way she kissed, the way she made love. He didn’t have to pretend anymore. The way he felt about her was real.

MARIANNA SHOOK HER TICKET AT CHASE AS THEY WALKED BACK TO the Fairmont. “We get pizza!” Not only had the Sharks won, but they’d scored four times, so the ticket stubs were each worth a free mini pizza.

“You want pizza after the nachos and the hot dogs and ice cream—”

She put a hand over his mouth. “Not tonight. I’m totally stuffed. Another 78

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time.” Then she realized she’d presumed there’d be another date. A real date. Like this one.

Marianna dropped her hand and made her boldest move yet. “I think I won’t see anyone else from Courtesans while I’m seeing you. Is that okay? I haven’t yet, anyway, but I’m thinking things are less complicated if I don’t.” She held her breath, waiting, frightened. What if he said it didn’t matter one way or the other to him?

His eyes roved her face, touched her lips, then he finally met her gaze. And smiled. “That would be fine with me. Next time we’ll do pizza and miniature golf.”

Her heart beat so hard she couldn’t hear over it. Or maybe that was because her ears were still ringing from the arena noise. Her throat hurt, too. She shouldn’t have screamed so much. Or so loudly. Or so long. But God, she’d had fun. Hockey. The date. Him. Most especially Chase. Now this. He wanted to be exclusive with her.

As they left the stadium crowd behind, she slipped her arm through his and hugged close, trying not to show he’d just totally rocked her world.