One Night with the Rebel Billionaire
Trish Wylie
The virgin’s surrender When Roane Elliott meets a naked stranger on the beach, her second thought is to challenge his trespassing. Her first thought makes her virginal heart beat quite erratically! Then she discovers the stranger is Adam Bryant. The smouldering, dark-hearted son of the Bryant dynasty. After a decade away he’s back to claim what’s rightfully his. However wilful the prize…Roane is determined to resist him, but the temptation is overwhelming. His bedroom door is open and she’s taking steps to her surrender…
Adam moved his hand, nudging her chin up with his fist. And then he kissed her.
He took advantage of her submission to part her lips with his tongue and sweep inside, taking her sharp gasp of cooler night air and replacing it with raw heat. In a mist of sensuality Roane was only vaguely aware of him wrapping his arm around her waist and tugging her closer to the edge of her chair. Her arms lifted, hands sliding around the column of his neck to hold him tight as their knees bumped together. Every doubt, every fear, every voice of reason in her head short-circuited except one.
Why haven’t I been kissed like this before?
Trish Wylie worked on a long career of careers to get to the one she’d wanted from her late teens. She flicked her blonde hair over her shoulder while playing the promotions game, patted her manicured hands on the backs of musicians in the music business, smiled sweetly at awkward customers during the retail nightmare known as the run-up to Christmas, and got completely lost in her car in every single town in Ireland while working as a sales rep. And it took all that character-building and a healthy sense of humour to get her dream job, she feels—where she spends her days in reindeer slippers, with her hair in whatever band she can find to keep it out of the way, make-up as vague and distant a memory as manicured nails, while she gets to create the kind of dream man she’d still like to believe is out there somewhere. If it turns out he is, she promises she’ll let you know…after she’s been out for a new wardrobe, a manicure and a make-over…
Recent books by the same author:
Mills & Boon
Modern Heat™ THE RETURN OF THE REBEL HIS MISTRESS, HIS TERMS CLAIMED BY THE BILLIONAIRE BAD BOY
Trish also writes for Mills & Boon
Romance!In February look out for her fabulous new book, MANHATTAN BOSS, DIAMOND PROPOSAL!
Mills & Boon
Romance THE BRIDE OF THE EMERALD ISLE HER ONE AND ONLY VALENTINE THE MILLIONAIRE’S PROPOSAL
Dear Reader
Is there anything sexier than an intelligent man? I don’t think so. If he’s drop-dead gorgeous and sexy as sin he’ll turn my head—absolutely he will—but make him as intelligent as he is drool-worthy and you’ve got my undivided attention!
When Adam Bryant started to take shape in my mind he was an intelligent man—don’t get me wrong. But I didn’t realise just how intelligent until I’d written the first chapter. I guess there should have been hints of it there but—call me shallow—I may have been a tad distracted by the image of an Adonis skinny-dipping on a beach in the moonlight. I’m only human! Then all of a sudden my motorcycle-riding, skinny-dipping, black sheep/prodigal son of a hero started quoting Voltaire and Kerouac at my heroine. Hang on, I thought. This one is deep. This one is way more intelligent than I am. This one? Oh, my. This one is incredibly sexy! Never mind my heroine—I want him.
But a guy like this is a thinker, he’s an analyser. He was never gonna fall for a woman overnight, was he? So what happens when the story wants itself told inside a time frame of four days? Hmm…let’s just see, shall we?
Hs & Ks
Trish
ONE NIGHT WITH THE REBEL BILLIONAIRE
BY
TRISH WYLIE
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For Sharon W—friend, reader, and fellow admirer of
hot men and gorgeous horses. Luv ya, babes!
CHAPTER ONE
‘EXCUSE ME. I’M SORRY. This is a private beach.’
Roane Elliott stepped tentatively closer. A full moon lit everything around her in shades of silver and grey, with black shadows that seemed to breathe with the ebb and flow of the tide. But her surroundings didn’t worry her as much as the presence of the stranger; she might have known every rock, every path, every place the sand sank deeper beneath her feet—but she also knew she was too far away from a 911 call for it to help if she got into trouble…
Her footsteps faltered. But it wasn’t the sudden 911 thought that had done it; it was because she was now standing close enough to see he was—
Her eyes widened. Oh, dear Lord. He was naked!
More than that, he was an Adonis. In the silvery light every tight muscle was defined in shadowy dips and shimmering planes from wide shoulders to tapering waist to taut… Her mouth went dry.
He turned around, so Roane swiftly averted her gaze, and mumbled under her breath, ‘Look at his face.’
When she glanced at him from the corner of her eye her errant gaze didn’t do what it was told. Well, who could blame her? He was sensational. She damped her lips as if she could taste him on the air before forcing her gaze sharply upwards, her palms itching with an almost primal urge to reach out and touch.
‘This is a private beach,’ she repeated with a little more force, lifting her chin to make her point. ‘You shouldn’t be here.’
‘The ocean belongs to everyone.’ Even the tone of his voice was magical.
Well, he could take that deep, rumbling, deliciously masculine voice of his that was doing something completely undiscovered to her pulse rate and—
Her thought process stalled. Wow, he had the most amazing muscle definition on his chest and upper arms. Not pumped up, steroid induced definition, oh, no. He looked like the kind of man who worked at something very physical for a living. Or was a natural sportsman of some kind, a swimmer maybe—no, not lean enough for a swimmer. Not that he was fat anywhere she could see, which was pretty much everywhere if she chose to take a good long look. And she could have, because he wasn’t the least bit embarrassed about being naked—in fact, he placed his hands on his hips, almost daring her to go right ahead and look.
Thankfully the silent arrogance brought her gaze north to his shadowed face rather than travelling south, which, deep down, it really wanted to do…
She cleared her throat. ‘You’re not in the ocean; you’re standing on the beach. And it’s private. You have to go. There are security patrols.’
It was a lie. But he didn’t know that.
In the shadows the suggestion of a crooked smile appeared, ‘Your beach, is it?’
‘It belongs to the family I work for. I—’ She’d been about to tell him she had a place a few hundred yards away. No doubt she’d be casually discussing the weather with him next. ‘I have permission to be here.’
When he took a step forwards she instinctively stepped back. ‘I know self-defence, so don’t try anything. I’m a black belt in ju-kwando.’
A brief chuckle of deep laughter preceded the dropping of his hands and another forward step. ‘My clothes are behind you. And for future reference it’s ju-jitsu or tae kwon do. Nice try. But I won’t bite you.’
Roane moved to the side as he stepped closer, colour rising on her cheeks when he inclined his head and added a low, ‘Not unless you ask me to.’
She opened her mouth to say something cutting in return and couldn’t seem to get her brain to work well enough to form a sentence. But she liked to think any red-blooded female would have been the same when confronted with such temptation. He was one of those men that would take what he wanted when he wanted, wasn’t he? She could feel it. There was just something very erotic about that—in the darkness—when he was naked… For a girl as inexperienced as Roane it was quite the realization. But what kind of woman was turned on by a naked stranger in the middle of the night? She tried to think of a reason why she was still standing there.
Making sure he leaves, she told herself.
Liar, an inner voice replied.
The rasp of a zipper invited her to glance back at him. His elbows bent as his hands worked on the belt of his jeans, he asked, ‘You live here?’
‘Answering that would hardly be a good move on my part, now would it?’
‘I’d say you left the region of good moves when you approached a stranger to begin with, wouldn’t you?’
When he turned his face towards the ocean the moon lit his face. For a brief moment Roane was struck by how beautiful he was. Not a word normally used to describe men, she knew, but he was. There was no way to tell what colour his hair or eyes were in the restricted light, but she had a sneaking suspicion they’d merely be icing on the cake.
His face had a symmetry to it that she’d never seen before—almost as if he’d been artificially created. Twinned dark pools that suggested large deep-set eyes, a perfectly straight nose, a mouth—dear heaven, that mouth; full lips practically calling out to be kissed. He even had a square jaw.
Roane was just the teensiest bit smitten.
He looked at her and smiled the most sinfully sexy smile. Because he knew, didn’t he? Looking the way he did, how could he fail to know women were smitten by him? Judging by the beast of a motorcycle she’d discovered parked at the top of the wooden walkway down to the beach she’d bet he drove all over the country leaving trails of smitten women behind him. There was an addictive sense of—freedom—to him too; as if he belonged where he stood and nowhere else. Nothing would stop him from going where he wanted when he wanted, from swimming naked on a private beach or seducing a woman in the moonlight…
He could reach out and haul her to him, press those practised lips to hers, lower her to the soft sand beneath their feet, surround her body with his and—
Erotic images flashed across her brain, her body aching low inside at the very thought of that kind of an encounter. Just once in her life. She could almost hear the ragged breathing; feel the sweat-slickened skin…
Roane choked out the words, ‘Please leave.’
His answer was slow, voice so husky she felt her breasts grow heavy in response. ‘Scared, little girl?’
Roane frowned at the words. Why did they sound familiar? She didn’t know who he was, but a part of her suddenly felt she should recognize him. ‘Do I know you?’
‘No one here knows me.’
When he turned and bent over to retrieve the rest of his belongings a shadow tracked the line of his spine, disappearing into the slight gape at the back of his jeans. The muscles in his shoulders worked as he moved, large hands reaching out and casually lifting what looked like a shirt and a jacket and boots. No underwear, she noted. And then he was turning to face her again, tucking the items casually against his hips.
‘Taking a chance approaching a naked stranger on a beach in the dark, you know that, don’t you, little girl?’
Why did he keep calling her that? Okay, so compared to him she was little. He had to be six feet two easy; Roane was five feet five. And beside all that defined muscle and inherent strength she was positively sylph-like in comparison. But being called a little girl at the age of twenty-seven should surely have felt patronizing to her. Instead it felt distinctly…sexual…and Roane was certain he knew that.
‘I told you, there’ll be a security—’
‘No, there won’t.’
She felt a flicker of panic. ‘You don’t know that.’
‘Yes—’ he continued looking at her ‘—I do.’
Who was this guy? The end of Martha’s Vineyard they were on wasn’t known for a large influx of motorcycle-riding bad boys. Frankly, anyone unfamiliar with the island would never have found the beach to begin with. But the main house on the bluff was certainly rich pickings for thieves. Maybe he’d been checking out the Bryant place? Was that it? Had he been filling in time on the beach while he waited for everyone to go to bed?
Roane had always had a very active imagination.
The stranger moved his clothes to the same hand as his boots, before reaching out to her. When she flinched back from it his low voice sounded irritated. ‘I won’t hurt you.’
‘I don’t know that.’
‘You’re still stood there so you must feel it or self-preservation would have kicked in.’ He beckoned with long fingers. ‘Come here.’
‘Why?’
‘I want to see you.’
‘Why?’
Sighing impatiently, he stepped forwards and lifted her chin with the crook of his forefinger, turning her face to the light while she looked sideways at him with wide eyes. She didn’t move—she couldn’t seem to find the strength to move. It was surreal.
Trapping her chin between his thumb and forefinger he angled his head and examined her face at a maddeningly leisurely pace; thumb smoothing back and forth almost absent-mindedly. Then he let go—leaving the heated brand of his touch against her skin.
‘Grew up some, didn’t you, little girl?’
Roane blinked at him as he turned away, her feet carrying her forwards as he stepped silently onto the end of the wooden walkway. ‘Who are you?’
He didn’t look back, his deep voice carrying on the night air. ‘Night, Roane.’
* * *
‘Hey, Jake?’
Roane jogged across to her friend’s side when she spotted him on the laneway between the main house and the guest quarters the next morning. ‘Wait up.’
He turned, a broad smile in place when he spotted her. ‘Morning, sunshine.’
‘Morning.’ She couldn’t resist stopping for a similar smile in return before falling into step beside him. They’d been friends since they’d been in nappies. And whereas most women were immediately struck by his tall, dark and handsome good looks Roane had long since outgrown the stage of being anywhere in the region of starry eyed. He was like a brother to her.
‘Do you have a visitor on the estate? There was someone on the beach on my way home last night.’
Jake lifted dark brows. ‘Was there?’
‘Yeah—it was the weirdest thing.’ She pushed her hands into the pockets of her jeans and skipped over the bigger details, like naked male glory and a soul-deep feminine reaction to that nakedness. There were some things a gal just didn’t discuss with a brother. ‘He seemed to know me.’
Jake’s chin jerked up a little, his gaze on the guest house. ‘Did he? Well, then—let’s just see if it’s who I think it was, shall we?’
Roane frowned in confusion as Jake slung a long arm over her shoulders and tugged her close to whisper conspiratorially in her ear, ‘We do have a visitor…’
Roane kept her hands in her pockets and allowed Jake to steer her up the grassy path and through the open doors of the house that her own home could have fitted inside at least a dozen times. Guests at the Bryant estate were treated to the kind of luxury most folks would be hard-pressed to find in a five star hotel.
Exquisite views over the ocean from the custom-built, architect-designed house were the first treat. The fact it was nestled in fifteen-odd acres of mature trees and established gardens overlooking a private cove was the next. Then add ten thousand square feet of house with five bedrooms, gourmet kitchen and countless luxury amenities, including master suite with Jacuzzi and great room with cathedral ceilings and two-storey stone fireplace and, well…
Modern-day European royalty probably lived in less.
‘Hello?’ Jake released her as they stepped through into the beechwood kitchen, bright light streaming in through the many windows to bathe the room in golden warmth. ‘Anyone home?’
He stopped so suddenly Roane almost walked into the wall of his back. Frowning, she stepped around him, ready to make a comment about a little warning being a good thing when her jaw dropped.
Her mystery man gave her a cursory glance before turning his attention to Jake. ‘Coffee?’
‘Yeah, please.’
He turned and poured two cups while Roane continued to gape. She’d been right about the hair and eye colour being icing. In fact if anything he was even more stunning in sunlight than he was in moonlight. She now knew his cropped hair was dark blond, the bright light in the room picking up lighter strands in the spikes that looked as if they’d been formed by long fingers raked casually from front to back. As for his eyes…well, she might have to be a little closer to be sure, but they looked pretty good to her…
Jake was talking again. “Found the key, then?’
‘Looks like it.’ He turned and placed a mug into each of their hands without asking Roane if she wanted anything. ‘Add what you need—it’s all on the counter.’
Then he caught her gaze for a moment, a knowing light sparkling in the stunning green-flecked brown of his eyes. ‘Morning, Roane.’
Suddenly she knew who he was. ‘Adam?’
While Jake moved over to the kitchen table Adam smiled lazily, lowering his head to whisper, ‘Now she remembers me.’
Before Roane could say anything in reply, he turned away and slid onto the curved bench facing his brother. ‘The detective agency was a bit much, don’t you think?’
Jake shrugged. ‘It wasn’t like you sent Christmas cards every year so we’d know how to reach you.’
‘And there was possibly a reason for that…’
Jake pursed his lips as Roane slid onto the bench beside him, immediately feeling the need to ease the tension by teasing him. ‘You hired a detective agency to find him? You didn’t mention that. Was he a raincoat-wearing private-eye type?’
Jake smiled. ‘No; I was disappointed actually.’
‘If you’d told me we could have searched for one. It would have been much more fun.’ She smiled back at him. But a part of her was hurt he hadn’t told her he was searching for Adam. It was a huge deal. She could remember a time in their lives when they’d talked about everything and anything.
When she glanced across the table she found the prodigal Bryant lounging casually, one long arm slung along the back of the wooden bench while sunshine glowed off the deep tan on his skin. But the nonchalance was a façade, wasn’t it? Roane could feel the intensity in him while his impossibly thick lashes flickered as he studied the interaction across the table.
His gaze crashed into hers for the space of two heartbeats and Roane felt her breath hitch. How did he do that with just a look?
He turned his attention to Jake. ‘How bad is he?’
‘He has good days and bad.’ Jake leaned forwards, cupping his mug between his hands and idly turning it while he spoke. ‘We try to keep him to a routine; that helps.’
Roane’s voice softened. ‘He’ll be glad to see you.’
Adam glanced briefly at her again, then back to Jake. ‘Lucid?’
‘Short-term memory loss initially—confused some days; angry, prone to mood swings—’
Adam’s mouth twisted wryly as he turned his profile to them and looked outside. ‘Not much change, then…’
Jake didn’t smile. ‘Still Dad, yes. But it’s only a matter of time before we’re looking at language breakdown, long term memory loss and a general withdrawal as his senses decline. Once diagnosed they give them an average life expectancy of seven years. And they diagnosed him two years ago. So if you want to make your peace you’d best make it now.’
Roane frowned when Adam didn’t respond. Surely he wouldn’t have come home if he hadn’t intended to make his peace with his father before it was too late? She knew very little about why he’d left, but then Adam had been an enigma long before that. When he’d left she had barely been fifteen, Jake a year older—and they’d been thick as thieves. But the rebellious Adam had been twenty-one. Six years wasn’t that big a gap for adults, but back then it had seemed like a lot more. Adam had been a young man, and a deeply unhappy one at that. He hadn’t wanted to spend time hanging round with two carefree teenagers during their endless halcyon summers.
Jake pushed again. ‘If you want to look the business over before you make any decisions, then—’
‘There’s a hurry, is there?’
God, he was so cold! Roane felt a chill run down her spine, fighting the need to shiver at his reaction while he calmly lifted his mug to his mouth. If he didn’t give a damn why had he come home at all? Why not stay as lost to his family as he’d been for the last twelve years?
‘Yes,’ Jake informed him.
Roane blinked at her friend. What was going on?
Adam apparently knew. ‘Gonna buy me out, are you?’
‘If I have to.’ Jake nodded once.
Roane leaned her elbow on the arm of the wooden bench and rested her forefinger along the side of her face, hiding her mouth behind the rest of her fingers. Adam Bryant might be pretty amazing to look at, but he wasn’t much of a personality, was he? Didn’t he feel the least bit guilty that he’d left everything on his younger brother’s shoulders? She might not know much, but she knew Jake had been tense of late, preoccupied, older somehow… Running the Bryant empire alone had been taking its toll.
As if he could sense her disapproval, Adam’s gaze flickered briefly towards her again, then back to Jake just as fast. Frankly it was starting to bug Roane. It felt as if he was dismissing her presence—as if he didn’t feel she should even be there. But if Jake thought that he wouldn’t have brought her in with him, would he? With the benefit of hindsight, she knew he’d probably felt the need for moral support.
‘I’ll take a look at the figures,’ Adam told Jake.
‘There’s a board meeting at three in Manhattan. Roane can fly you in, can’t you, Ro?’
Did she have to? She smiled. ‘’Course I can.’
Adam didn’t look at her. ‘I’ll drive.’
‘It’s at least five and a half hours by road—you’d need to leave in an hour,’ Roane pointed out. ‘It’s less than two hours by air; you wouldn’t have to leave til noon. I’m sure you’ll want to spend time with your dad before you go…’
When he looked at her again she quirked her brows. Not that it had any effect on him. Instead he held her gaze steadily, as if to prove he could having spent so little time looking her directly in the eye.
‘You fly?’
‘Yes.’ Silently she willed him to make a comment about it being a step up from the chauffeur-cum-handyman position her father had held for most of his life.
He didn’t. Instead he took a deep breath that expanded the material of his dark green T-shirt while his gaze shifted back to Jake. ‘When’s the next board meeting?’
‘Two weeks.’
‘Right.’ Adam looked out the windows, his jaw tensing while he thought, eyes narrowed against the bright light. Then he nodded briefly. ‘Fine. I’ll fly.’
Roane lowered her hand and looked at Jake. ‘I’ll book the slot. You coming?’
‘No, I’ll go ahead. I already have a slot.’
Which meant she got to fly down with Adam on her own. Fantastic. That should make for a chatty flight. Roane couldn’t remember ever spending time in close proximity to someone she found so intensely physically attractive yet didn’t like at the same time.
Jake nudged her to indicate he wanted to slide out. ‘I’ll take Adam over to the house.’
‘I remember the way.’
Roane pursed her lips at Adam’s reply as she slid off the bench and walked to the sink to toss her untouched coffee away, Jake’s voice calm behind her.
‘I’m going over anyway.’
When he joined her at the sink she looked up at him, mouthing a concerned You okay?
He winked and mouthed back, Fine.
Automatically she took his mug and rinsed it out after she’d done her own, adding a plate and a couple of pieces of cultery that were lying on the side too and not noticing Jake had moved away until she turned—and walked straight into the solid wall of Adam’s chest. One large hand shot up to grasp her elbow as she staggered back, her spine bumping the edge of the counter as she looked down at his hand with wide eyes.
Because it was like being touched by a live wire.
A spark of electricity shot up her arm, under her skin and into her veins where it picked up speed with the rapid beat of her heart. The tingling then radiated outwards, licking over her bare shoulder and down over her chest where her nipples beaded into tight buds against the lace of her bra.
Adam let go so suddenly her gaze shot upwards.
When his eyes narrowed an almost imperceptible amount Roane blinked at him. He’d felt that? What in the name of heaven was that anyway? It couldn’t even be put down to static electricity—not when it was bare skin touching bare skin. Could it? Science had never been her thing, after all.
‘Ro? You coming?’ Jake’s familiar voice sounded from the open doorway.
‘Mmm-hmm, yeah.’ She frowned as she stepped around Adam, absent-mindedly rubbing where he had touched her as if to remove an invisible mark.
Adam took a half step in her direction so that her shoulder brushed his upper arm, the rumble of his voice low and steeped with innuendo.
‘Be seeing you. Little girl.’
She stopped and smiled sugary sweet. ‘How long did you say you were staying?’
‘I didn’t.’
A quick glance at the doorway showed that Jake had already stepped outside. Suddenly Roane felt edgy without him there. Her hesitation didn’t help either, because when she looked up at Adam it was in time to see he’d noticed the same thing.
‘Finally caught him, did you?’
What? She gaped when she realized what he meant, ‘I wasn’t ever—’ She frowned at the sudden need to defend herself. ‘My relationship with Jake is none of your business.’
When she stepped away he reached out and grabbed her wrist, lifting her hand to study it. ‘No ring.’
Roane tugged her arm. ‘Let go.’
He held on. ‘How come?’
Not that she had all that much experience with men, but Roane had never met such a Neanderthal. For goodness’ sake, the man practically grunted a conversation!
She tugged again, harder this time, determined not to pay attention to the low thrumming of awareness in her abdomen. ‘That’s still none of your business.’
Adam repositioned his fingers, his gaze studying her wrist for a moment before he looked sideways at her and a smile began to play with the corners of his mouth. The way the green in his eyes had darkened, the way that half a smile was forming—it threw rational thought clean out of her head. Until she realized what he was smiling about…
He’d just felt her pulse jumping about in her wrist. He knew what he was doing to her disobedient body. More than that—he was pleased about it! The arrogant great—
Adam let go.
So Roane did the mature thing and practically ran from the room. Let him go right ahead and think she was with Jake if he wanted to. It made her reaction to Adam even worse than it already was, but at least she wouldn’t have to deal with it, because surely he wouldn’t make a pass at his brother’s girlfriend?
Cowardly, the voice said inside her head, using Jake as some kind of protective shield. But she ignored it. Caveman had never done it for her before, and it sure as heck wasn’t starting to now.
Even if Adam Bryant looked like the kind of bad news every girl secretly dreamed of finding.
CHAPTER TWO
‘MVY TOWER…MERIDIAN five eight nin-er two November ready to taxi with mike…right turnout southeast bound.’
Only when they were cruising at five and a half thousand feet did Roane truly experience all that she loved best about flying: serenity, control and exhilaration. All around them were blue skies, below them the mirrored aquamarine of the ocean. Things were so calm she could have switched to autopilot. But that would have left time for conversation with her passenger, and it was bad enough he’d got in the cockpit instead of sitting in back where she could have pretended he wasn’t there. So she didn’t.
Unable to resist, she glanced to her side and noticed long fingers tapping restlessly against the taut trouser-clad thigh that was moving to the rhythm of a bouncing heel. An errant smile immediately blossomed in her chest as the realization hit her.
‘Not that good a flier, huh?’
When she bit down on her lower lip to control the smile Adam frowned. ‘I’m good. Thanks.’
‘Mmm-hmm.’ She nodded, letting his sarcastic ‘thanks’ roll over her head. ‘The tapping foot is a sure sign of relaxation.’
The tapping of his foot abruptly stopped, long fingers curling into a fist. His knuckles were just white enough for Roane to suspect he was forcibly keeping his leg still. It was the first time since she’d met him on the beach that she’d felt she had the upper hand—it was empowering, especially considering every time she laid eyes on him her hormones seemed to go into overdrive. When he’d turned up at the airport she’d surreptitiously rolled her eyes at how good he looked in a dark suit. One glance at him and every part of her that had ever been attracted to intelligence and wit and congeniality went straight to hell. Apparently to be replaced with a cell-deep genetic need to mate with the strongest of the species for the sake of the human race…
But his reaction to being in the air meant her pilot’s conscience insisted she make small talk to help take his mind off it. Sometimes Roane truly wished she had a meaner streak.
‘Clear skies from here to New York; we won’t even hit turbulence. Honest.’
‘Right.’
Roane studied his tense profile, then took a breath and decided to throw caution to the wind and just say what she thought. ‘You’re not much of a talker, are you?’
Adam’s reply was so low she mightn’t have heard it if they weren’t wearing mikes to go with the matching head sets. ‘The secret of being boring is to say everything.’
Roane stared at him in amazement. He couldn’t be serious. ‘And where did we pick up that excuse?’
‘Voltaire.’
Her brows lifted. ‘Quote of the day?’
The vaguest hint of a smile appeared. ‘No.’
Well, that went well. If Roane didn’t know better she’d have said he was enigmatic on purpose. But before she could steer the conversation in a direction where she might glean some insight, Adam exhaled loudly and leaned back into his seat, his chin dropping as he studied the array of dials and readouts.
‘Tell me how it works.’
He wanted a flying lesson? In Roane’s experience it wasn’t how people who were afraid of flying tended to react. Maybe he meant the theory of it? Okay—she could do the basic theory of it.
‘One sec.’ She engaged the autopilot and leaned back, turning and folding her arms across her breasts. ‘It’s flying itself now. But if the ground suddenly starts looking bigger, yell.’
‘Funny,’ Adam said dryly.
‘Let’s see.’ Roane considered the ceiling for a moment, starting with something she’d read somewhere. ‘Basically it all centres around Newton’s idea that for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.’
Then she ad-libbed, warming to her subject, ‘So you know when you let go of an inflated balloon and it flies all over the room? That’s kinda like thrust in an airplane engine; it propels the plane into the air…’ Unfolding an arm, she made a sweep with one hand to highlight the ‘plane into the air’ part; quite pleased with the analogy until she found him studying her with hooded eyes.
His deep voice held an edge of barely concealed disgust. ‘When did you decide I was an idiot?’
Finding her mouth dry, Roane swallowed before coming back with a pathetically weak-voiced, ‘Short Neanderthal grunted answers might possibly have done it.’
‘I understand Newton’s theories.’
A nervous bubble of laughter formed in her chest, but with effort she managed to keep her reaction to a teasing smile. ‘Maybe you could explain them to me some time. I just keep the thing in the air. I’ve never felt the need to know the science that goes with it.’
She batted her lashes innocently.
‘I’m sure to get your pilot’s licence you had to be a step or two up from dumb blonde. How long have you been flying?’
‘A long time—and I haven’t killed anyone…’ she paused for effect, shrugging one shoulder ‘…yet.’
The fleeting smile twitched the corner of his mouth; brown softening the green of his eyes. For a brief second, to Roane’s astonishment, there was even a hint of deep laughter lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes, suggesting he laughed more often than she’d had evidence of so far. Leaving her wondering what it would take to make him laugh out loud—without holding back the way he was.
She really wanted to hear that sound.
But the fleeting smile was gone as fast as it arrived. When she studied him he studied her right back and then jerked his head in the direction of the controls. ‘Run me through the basics.’
‘Of actual flying rather than the theory of flight?’
‘Yes.’
Roane sucked her bottom lip in and let it go with a slight ‘pop’, the words coming out before she could stop them. ‘It’s a control thing for you, isn’t it?’
Adam blinked lazily, ‘Could be.’
She couldn’t really work him out, and it was disconcerting. But then it wasn’t as if she were all that worldly-wise. She had met a fairly diverse selection of people in her time, but Adam? Adam was something new. Adam was fascinating to her if she were honest about it, which she wasn’t about to be. At least not out loud.
She adjusted her mike, and when she spoke she heard the distorted version of her own voice echoed louder in her ears. ‘On the floor are pedals that operate the brakes and rudder. Push the right pedal, the rudder turns to the right. Push the left pedal, the rudder turns left. With me so far?’
Adam had dipped his chin and moved his knees apart so he could see the floor. But when she asked the question he glanced sideways, his tone still dry. ‘I’ll try and keep up.’
Roane smiled, turning away to check the readouts while she continued, ‘The pilot controls the airplane by using a control wheel—the stick. This lets you move the elevators on the tail and the ailerons on the wings, which in turn move the airplane. Still with me?’
A deep sigh was magnified by the mike.
Still smiling, Roane shifted positions so she was leaning her upper body closer. ‘Hands on the stick.’
Adam swiped his large palms across his thighs before lifting them and placing them tight on either side of the stick, his knuckles white. So with a roll of her eyes Roane couldn’t seem to stop herself from asking, ‘Jeez, Adam, would you grab hold of a woman like that?’
He shot her a sideways glare.
‘Let me know when you want to find out.’ He flexed his fingers and looked down at the controls. ‘Keep going.’
The throwaway invitation sent a thrumming pulse of anticipation to the centre of her body, even though Roane knew instinctively it had been a knee-jerk reaction to her runaway tongue. ‘Towards you the nose comes up—away the nose goes down. But I warn you, you touch the throttle at any point I may have to kill you myself before we hit the ground…’
He swallowed. ‘And that’s where exactly?’
Roane somehow managed not to laugh. She knew he wouldn’t appreciate it, even if she did tell him her urge to giggle was partly because she was finding the chink in his armour so humanizing. Adam wasn’t the kind of man who would like being told vulnerability was appealing, was he? So instead she reached for his large hands, her smaller ones nowhere near able to cover them as she curled her fingers around his.
‘Between us.’ She kept her gaze focused on their hands when he turned to look for the throttle, the heat of his skin beneath her cool fingers mesmerizing beyond belief to her. What would hands that size feel like on her body? Images immediately flickered through her brain in answer to the silent question, so that when she spoke her voice sounded embarrassingly breathless to her.
‘There. That’s it. A little forwards the nose drops…a little back…and…erm…’
She’d made the mistake of glancing up at him. When she found his face disconcertingly close to hers she faltered; his intense gaze focused on her mouth as she damped her lips. The man really did have the most ridiculously thick eyelashes.
‘The—uh…the nose comes up…’ She swallowed and forced air into her aching chest. Then his scent hit her. She’d been aware of it since they’d closed the cabin doors, but up close…up close and with the heat of his skin to magnify it. Dear heaven…
Roane was no expert, but she was a long-time fan of scented candles. There were notes of citrus in there, maybe blackcurrant…and then there was a hint of sandalwood, a suggestion of mulberry and just possibly a whisper of amber. It was the most enticing combination…
She breathed deep and practically sighed with contentment as she exhaled.
He was staring at her.
And he continued studying her with silent intensity, leaving Roane floundering. ‘Okay, well, erm…left is left and right is right. Basically…’
The smile started in his eyes. ‘Said that too…’
Well, how was she supposed to concentrate with him sitting as close as he was, looking the way he did and smelling as good as he was? Letting go of his hands, she sat back in her seat.
‘Don’t move the stick a minute.’
The change was so smooth it would have taken an expert to notice it. Then Roane was in control again. If Adam was seeking control by asking for the impromptu flying lesson, then she could understand that, she supposed. Having control of her plane again immediately made her feel better. He might be able to take possession of her body’s reactions simply by breathing in and out. But by distracting herself with the everyday business of flying Roane could focus her mind elsewhere. She could.
‘Just relax and feel my movements through the stick. That’s it. Smoothly…’
Suddenly the control she had took on sexual undertones for her. She’d never been in a relationship with a man where she’d had the courage to be one of those women who took control. She’d never asked to be touched a particular way or in a certain place; nothing that might have made the experience better for her. Nope, Roane’s method had always been more along the lines of making approving mumbles and hoping he got the message. But in her plane, where she was totally in control of her environment, even giving instructions to a man like Adam Bryant seemed like the most natural thing in the world to her.
Unfortunately the fact it was a man like Adam made her think about what it would be like to give him a different set of instructions. Like a breathless, Kiss me, Adam. Or, Touch me, Adam…
Since when had she been so obsessed with sex?
Feeling the vibration of the engine through the stick Roane stifled a moan, squirming on her seat in an attempt to ease the unfamiliar tension she felt between her legs. Thankfully when she glanced at Adam he seemed engrossed enough with flying not to have noticed so she damped her lips and told him, ‘Okay. Now you try.’
His fingers flexed around the stick while Adam took a breath and tried to ignore the move she’d just made—he’d seen that shimmy of her hips on the seat. She was more distracting than the flying lesson.
Of all the things he’d mentally prepared for there had never once been the scenario of being instantly viscerally attracted to his little brother’s woman. And woman she was, no matter how much the ‘little girl’ tag he’d given her as a kid still seemed appropriate. Everything about her was little: little fine-boned hands, little wrists he could circle comfortably with his thumb and forefinger, little waist he could probably have spanned with both hands, little breasts that would easily fill his palms…
Yet everything she did and said belied any air of fragility her body intimated. Not that she came across as tough—quite the opposite. She had an air of vulnerability to her that Adam found compellingly fascinating. Not a bad thing considering where he was.
Adam hated small planes.
Her softly feminine voice filled his ears. ‘There you go. You’re flying.’
While Adam focused on the combination of what he was doing and his physical awareness of the woman sitting beside him Roane took the silence to mean she could try making conversation again.
‘Is it weird being back?’
‘At the Vineyard?’
‘Yes.’
‘No.’
‘How can it not be? You’ve been gone a long time.’
Adam didn’t take kindly to being called a liar, even subtextually, frowning as he spoke. ‘“My witness is the empty sky.”’
There was a brief silence.
‘Voltaire?’
‘Kerouac.’
When he looked sideways at her she was staring at him and Adam liked that she couldn’t figure him out. It could stay that way as far as he was concerned.
‘You have dozens of these, don’t you?’
Adam felt his mouth twitch. ‘A few.’
‘As a way to avoid making conversation?’
Nope, he could make conversation when he wanted to. ‘You’re not good with silence, then, I take it.’
‘I’m fine with silence.’ Said the woman who had babbled nervously at him all the way through the airport concourse. ‘It’s rudeness that bothers me—I’m just trying to figure out if that’s what you’re doing.’
‘So short sentences make me an idiot—the lack of idle conversation makes me rude.’ Adam took a breath. ‘Anything else?’
There was another moment of silence and then a mumbled, ‘You really couldn’t be any different from Jake if you tried…’
She might not have meant it with quite the same level of contempt his father had any time he’d used similar words, but they had the same effect. Adam felt the echo of adolescent anger roll in on him like a tsunami—destroying any sense of reason or tolerance in its wake the same way it always had. He’d heard the words a million times; said with impatience or frustration or resentment or in disappointment. But the result was always the same. Jake had been the son their father wanted. Adam had fallen short of the mark.
Well, not any more. Maybe Roane Elliott should be the first of them to understand that.
Adam turned his head, dropping his gaze to look her over at his leisure. He heard her sharp intake of breath when he watched the rise and fall of her breasts long enough to see two distinct beads appear against the soft material of her blouse. Then he smiled a slow smile as he looked up at her parted lips, at the flush on her cheeks and finally into the darkened blue of her eyes. Only then did he quirk his brows, his voice a low rumble in the headsets.
‘Ready to find out just how different, little girl?’ He angled his head a little and studied the way her honey-blonde hair curled against her cheek. ‘I saw how you looked at me on the beach last night. Manners and IQ weren’t high on the list of things you were interested in then, were they?’
When she stared at him with widened eyes he leaned a little closer, deliberately looking down the ‘V’of her blouse at the rapid rise and fall of creamy half-circle breasts above the lace of her bra. He watched the beating pulse on one side of her elegant neck, the way she damped her parted lips before sucking in a shaky breath. Then his gaze locked firmly with hers again. ‘You’re right. It is about control with me. But you want to lose it, don’t you? In a way you obviously don’t with my brother or you wouldn’t react to me the way you do. You know I’d take you the way you want to be taken. Hard. And slow. For hours on end…’
There was a brief narrowing of her eyes before he continued, ‘Maybe you should make sure you chose the right Bryant, little girl…’
Roane’s breath caught, she swallowed hard and then her eyes sparkled with a mixture of outrage and desire. ‘I’m not some little girl you can intimidate.’ Her chin lifted defiantly, the husky edge of her voice giving away her physical reaction to his words as much as her body already had. ‘Let go of the stick. Please.’
Adam frowned. ‘Wh—?’
Without warning her knee jerked, and the plane veered violently to the left, throwing Adam away from her. He released the stick as if he’d been burned, his stomach lurching and a violent expletive leaving his mouth. When the plane eased smoothly onto an even keel again he glared angrily at her.
‘What did you do?’
Roane was facing forwards, both hands on the stick and her fine-boned jaw-line set with determination. ‘I’m sorry. My foot must have slipped.’
Meaning she’d kicked the rudder, right? Adam would have laughed at her audacity if she hadn’t just taken a year off his life. His brother had gone and got himself quite the little firecracker.
‘Clever.’
The compliment didn’t earn him any brownie points. ‘Feel free to take your lack of conversational skills to the extreme from here to New York. Or I can give you a demonstration of just what this plane is capable of if you’d prefer…’
Adam knew she wasn’t just referring to the plane. She’d clearly told him not to mess with her. It was a nice try, he’d give her that. It would have worked better if she’d denied anything he’d said about wanting to be taken hard and slow and for hours on end…
The knowledge did several things to Adam.
But what it did most was bring out the primal strand to his DNA code. One that now felt a deep seated need to tame her…
Adam had never backed down from a battle of wills. It had been half his problem for most of his life. So she might have got the upper hand on him this time, but she wouldn’t do it again. She should understand who she was dealing with. All of them should.
She’d just get a more pleasurable version of the lesson…
CHAPTER THREE
‘DO I HAVE TO?’
Jake’s brows rose, ‘You don’t like him much, do you? I thought you liked everyone.’
Under normal circumstances she did. Roane was a glass-half-full kinda gal. Not till Adam had she met anyone who made her believe irredeemable people existed. Feeling that way and being so physically attracted to him at the same time only made her dislike him more than she already did…
But he’d basically called her a gold-digger!
More than that—she was an unfaithful gold-digger who would stoop to having hot, sweaty, emotionless sex with her supposed boyfriend’s brother! He was slime. No. He was lower than that. She scowled harder. ‘He’s not nice.’
Jake stifled a smile, but not convincingly. ‘Okay. You got me. What happened on the way down here?’
Ooh…now where to start with that one…?
Idly swinging the office chair back and forth, she searched the air for something safe to say. ‘He thought I thought he was an idiot…’
Yes, she was pretty sure it started there. No—hang on—maybe sooner. He hadn’t been happy with her knowing he was afraid of flying. ‘By the way—did you know he’s not good with planes?’
Jake shrugged, flicking through a file on his desk. ‘It’s not surprising. Hitting the ground harder than normal when you’re in one would do it.’
Roane’s jaw dropped. ‘What?’
‘Charter flight, if I remember it right; Adam and his mother were flying in from a week in the Hamptons when Adam was three or four—Dad had visitation rights. It was a rough landing.’ He shrugged. ‘No one got hurt but it was edge-of-the-seat stuff.’
To a child it must have been a nightmare. No wonder he wasn’t a good flier. Would it have killed Adam to possibly mention that? ‘Jake, it didn’t occur to you he mightn’t be that good a flier when you suggested he fly down here?’
‘He should’ve said if it was such a big problem.’
‘Does he strike you as the kind of man who would confess to a weakness like that in front of a brother he hasn’t seen in twelve years? Between the two of you there was enough testosterone in that kitchen this morning to sink a schooner.’ There was no way she was getting caught in the middle of that battle of wills so if Jake thought—
He looked up at her. ‘Now you’re defending him? Thought you didn’t like him.’
‘I don’t.’ She fought the need to pout.
‘Well, calling him an idiot wasn’t one of your better moves. What did he say to that?’
‘I didn’t call him an idiot. He assumed I thought he was. And he was—surly…’
Jake chuckled. ‘Yeah, I’ll bet he was.’ He checked his heavy wristwatch and closed the file before pushing his chair back. ‘You know he’s got a genius level IQ? One fifty or sixty; something close to the highest level they measure it at. Bugged the hell out of me when I was a kid; made me feel real dumb in comparison.’
‘You’re kidding me, right?’
‘Nope.’ He lifted his jacket off the back of his chair and pushed his arms into the dark sleeves. ‘Dad reckoned it was part of his restlessness. No matter how many grades he skipped he was still bored. He didn’t want to be groomed as a child prodigy, so he rebelled. I think Dad blamed himself for never being able to keep his mind actively interested in anything long enough to stay out of trouble.’
When Jake chuckled at her expression a realization hit her. So Roane dropped her face into her hands, her voice muffled. ‘Oh, God.’
‘What did you do?’
She peeked over the tips of her fingers, opening them a little so Jake could hear her. ‘He quoted Voltaire and Kerouac at me.’
‘And you said?’
Dropping her hands, she sighed heavily. ‘I asked if they were quote of the day.’
Jake snorted with laughter, then saw her woeful expression and controlled it, his dark eyes still sparkling with amusement as he reached for a hand to draw her out of her chair. ‘I can’t believe he’s here less than twenty-four hours and you’ve already had a fight with him. You’re s’posed to be the friendlier one of the two of us. I have more to argue about with him than you do and I’ve managed to stay calm.’
Yeah, but he didn’t have the same issues with Adam she did. Not that she could tell him that.
‘Just promise you’ll be nice until he signs the papers. Then you can say whatever you want to him. I know I intend to.’
She let Jake guide her to the door. ‘Do I have to?’
‘You do. For me. If I didn’t have you to be nice to guests and clients while I’m up to my eyes in work I’d have to go out and find myself a wife, wouldn’t I?’
Roane rolled her eyes. ‘Poor you.’
‘Exactly.’ He held open the door and stepped back to let her through. ‘You’re as near to an actual Bryant as be damned, Ro, and you know it. That makes it your duty.’
When he nodded wisely Roane chuckled, lightly punching his upper arm as he fell into step beside her in the corridor. ‘I hate you.’
Jake swatted the back of her head with his file. ‘No, you don’t. You love me. You know you do. I’m adorable.’
Her smile faded when they rounded a corner and found Adam standing by the doors to the boardroom, his hands pushed deep into the pockets of his dark trousers.
His dark gaze crashed into hers. Immediately she felt a flush rising in her cheeks. Damn him. She really didn’t like him one little bit. Regardless of the new information she now had to explain a very small portion of his behaviour.
Feeding the façade, she turned on her heel and stood on tiptoes to press a kiss to Jake’s cheek, smiling at the surprise in his eyes. ‘I do love you. But you owe me for this one. Big time.’
Jake blinked at her. ‘O-kay.’
With a deep breath she turned and walked towards Adam, her chin held high despite the sparkling of silent amusement in his stunning eyes. ‘I’ll be back after the meeting. Jake tells me you’re staying at the penthouse.’
‘Will you be acting as tour guide?’ He smiled lazily, his deep voice lowering. ‘Or making sure I don’t skip town again?’
Roane blinked innocently, unable to resist baiting him with a small pout. ‘Babysitter possibly?’
Adam’s gaze rose to watch the people filtering into the boardroom. Then he took a step closer, invading her personal space to within inches and surrounding her with his enticing scent while he lowered his head.
‘Nice to see there’s as much fire in your relationship with Jake as there is in ours.’ He turned his head closer to her ear so she felt the movement of his lips against her hair. ‘Let me know when you’re ready to upgrade…’
Roane took a deep breath, ignoring her dancing pulse while she turned her face towards his. ‘I’m not so sure it would be an upgrade.’
When a smile threatened the corners of his tempting mouth she took another breath, reminding herself that she’d told Jake she would be nice to his brute of a brother. ‘Have fun at your board meeting.’
When she impulsively patted his arm, Adam’s chin dropped, disbelief lifting his brows and furrowing his forehead when he looked back up at her. It was a very, very small victory, but somehow it was enough for Roane.
His eyes narrowed when she smiled a little brighter, but then Jake interrupted, ‘You ready, Adam?’
‘Yeah.’ He glanced down at Roane. ‘Later.’
Roane scrunched up her nose with feigned glee. ‘Can’t wait.’
Adam had to grit his teeth through the majority of the board meeting. They’d dumbed it down for him. Assuming he wouldn’t have a clue about anything they were talking about was a serious mistake on their part. But he remained silent throughout.
Let them think what they wanted.
‘So you see the problem.’ Jake waited for the room to clear before he turned towards him.
‘I do.’
Adam looked at his sibling with new-found respect. The kid knew his stuff. He’d led the meeting with a firm hand and was savvy about every aspect of the company’s businesses. Where someone had to open a file to quote figures, Jake was able to correct their mistakes off the top of his head. He gave credit where credit was due for good work, was able to hand out recrimination with a glare. There was no doubt who was the captain of the good ship Bryant. Good for him. Just a shame so many members of his crew were useless.
‘And you hire this lot or are they inherited?’
‘Some are inherited.’
Adam bet he could name them without Jake’s help. ‘So cut the dead weight.’
‘It’s not that simple.’
‘Never is.’
‘Some of them are shareholders.’
Well that explained that, then. Losing the majority hold on shares was Jake’s biggest threat. It was the reason Adam was there. He doubted Jake would have bothered looking for him otherwise. Especially if he knew the truth.
Jake stared calmly at him while Adam moved his head from shoulder to shoulder to ease imaginary tension in his neck. ‘What do you want to do, Adam?’
‘Are you going to give me options?’ Adam stopped what he was doing and looked his brother in the eye. ‘See me here with a nice little corner office, do you?’
‘No.’
‘Good. I’ve never spent a day of my life in an office, and I’m not starting now.’ It would be suffocating.
‘You’ll sell to me, then.’
‘Maybe.’ He laid his palms against the gleaming table and pushed his chair back, stretching his long legs out in front of him. ‘Where are you getting the money?’
When Jake studied him with suspicion Adam thought he’d overplayed the nonchalance card. So he leaned forwards, bending his knees so he had a place to rest his forearms. ‘It’d take time to liquidate enough assets and you’d need permission from the board for that—which you’re not going to get if anyone stands to make any money with a takeover bid. So where would it come from?’
Jake pursed his lips.
So Adam pushed off his knees into an upright position, ‘You either want me to have the full picture or you don’t.’
‘What difference does it make?’ Jake’s voice remained calm. ‘You don’t need to know where I get it any more than I need to know what you do with it.’
Fair point. Except he did want to know. If his little brother wasn’t going to tell him, then he’d find out on his own.
Adam glanced around the large room, taking in the changes since the days he’d been dragged along for the obligatory heir-to-the-kingdom tours. Instead of heavy oak and opressive panelling there were shining modern surfaces and spotlights immitating stars in a jet-black ceiling. He’d bet his father hadn’t initiated the changes, which made him wonder just how long Jake had held the reins. And how much of the conglomerate’s current problems were actually his doing…
‘Four years.’
Adam looked at Jake.
Who leaned back in his chair and formed a tent with his fingers. ‘I’ve been running it four years. That’s what you were wondering.’
Adam hid his surprise at the unexpected spark of insight. ‘You were young.’
‘I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?’
‘Everyone has a choice.’
‘Not if they give a damn, they don’t. Then they make decisions based on what matters. Or what should matter.’
Adam shook his head, exhaling a soft snort of derisive laughter as he pushed to his feet. ‘Don’t pretend to know what mattered or didn’t matter to me, Jake. You don’t know anything about me.’
‘And whose fault is that?’ Before Adam could reply Jake pushed to his feet, gathering files together as he continued, ‘You might not care about this company, Adam, but I do. So if you’re selling, let me know. If you want to learn more before you decide, then say so. The door has always been open.’
He looked Adam in the eye on his way past. ‘Whether you thought it was or not.’
Adam stood in the empty room for a while after Jake left. He’d been there one day—hell, not even that long—and already he felt as if the walls were closing in. Dropping his head back, he scowled at the ceiling; it was as if he’d stepped back in time and hadn’t learned a single thing in his twelve years away.
Turning on his heel, he dropped his chin—and met Roane’s gaze through the vertical blinds. She was standing still in the middle of the bustling hallway, watching him. Lit by the bright light streaming through the office windows, her skin glowed, her hair shone like ripe corn fields in summer sunshine—and wearing a red jacket she stood out in the sea of greys, blacks and charcoals like a beacon.
For a split second he almost smiled at her. But instead he frowned at the fact she might have seen even a hint of how he was feeling. He didn’t want anyone to see. It was a weakness. So with a silent mental shake he gathered himself together, stepping out through the doorway and striding confidently towards her, determined to pick up where they’d left off. But before he got to her a middle-aged man from the meeting stepped over.
‘Good to see you, Adam.’ His voice was laced with thinly veiled disrespect. ‘We thought you were dead.’
Adam was a step away from him when he stopped. He clenched his jaw. Talking a measured step backwards, he turned his face towards the man, his voice cold. ‘Sorry to disappoint.’ He looked him over. ‘Jeffries, right?’
The man swallowed hard. ‘That’s right.’
Adam nodded, slowly turning ninety degrees to tower over him. ‘Well…Jeffries…a word to the wise…’
He paled. ‘Y-yes?’
‘Ever treat me like a fool the way you did in that meeting again and you’ll wish I was dead.’ When he lifted his arm the man flinched, and Adam smiled inwardly as he swiped an imaginary piece of lint off his shoulder before lowering his head to add, ‘Have a nice day.’
Roane blinked wide eyes at him as he walked by her, her voice choked. ‘Bye, Malcolm.’
‘Roane…’ Malcolm Jeffries was too busy scurrying away to pay much attention to her.
A quick glance over Adam’s shoulder told him she was following him to the elevators, so he punched the button and waited. When she got to his side Adam glanced sideways at her, ‘You got something to say, then spit it out.’
‘Nope. Nothing to say.’
‘Good.’
‘Except he probably deserved it,’ she said after a moment of silence. ‘Malcolm can be a bit of a jerk. Office lech too, from what the girls say. Wandering hands…’
Adam’s face jerked her way so fast he almost put his neck out. ‘He touched you?’
One arched brow rose as she rolled back onto her heels. ‘That would be your problem because?’
Damned if Adam knew. But it took a gargantuan effort not to turn round and go right back down the hall for another tête-à-tête. The elevator better get a move on. He glanced up at the numbers: forty-two, forty-three… It was the slowest elevator in New York.
‘Jake didn’t have a quiet word?’ Bitterness rolled off the tip of his tongue. But if he hadn’t, then he’d just dropped in Adam’s estimation.
‘Why would he—? Oh…’ When she faltered Adam turned to study her expression, the fact she wasn’t able to look him in the eye making him suspicious even before a hint of colour started to appear on her cheeks. ‘I didn’t say he touched me—I said the office girls mentioned it. It wouldn’t have been Jake’s problem even if he had. I can look after myself.’
Adam turned towards her, calmly folding his arms, ‘Anything else you want to set straight?’
She looked up at him, her luminous blue eyes filled with curiosity. ‘How come you didn’t tell me the reason you don’t like flying?’
She’d been asking questions about him, had she? That was interesting, but, ‘That wasn’t what I meant.’
She blinked blankly at him.
One of the things Roane Elliott needed to learn about him quick smart was that he wasn’t that easily diverted. ‘Are you or are you not involved with Jake?’
‘I am.’ She nodded firmly.
Adam knew he’d worded it wrong. ‘Sexually.’
Her eyes widened, gaze darting nervously around them and her voice lowering. ‘Do you mind?’
As it happened, yes, he did. He minded a whole heap.
They stepped into the elevator together, Adam waiting until the doors closed before he moved and effectively boxed her into a corner with his body.
‘Yes or no.’
The small space between them seemed to crackle. From the change in her breathing and the sharp intake of breath she took Adam knew she could feel it as keenly as he could. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so much heat radiating from a woman. He’d felt it on the beach, he’d felt it in the kitchen, he’d provoked it on the plane…
If she wasn’t involved with Jake, then she was in way over her pretty little head. She was exactly the kind of distraction Adam needed from the things he currently felt he had a fleeting control over.
The doors behind him slid open and he saw Roane angling her head to look around him, the small grimace on her face telling him they had company. So he casually leaned a shoulder against the wall and lowered his tone.
‘Yes or no.’
Roane glared at him, answering in a similarly low tone, ‘None of your business.’
‘I’m making it my business.’
‘Why?’ She seemed astounded by the notion.
Surely she couldn’t be that naive? But if she wanted to have the discussion in front of an audience, then so be it. ‘Why do you think?’
Taking a moment to smile weakly at the other occupant of the elevator, she flicked her long lashes upwards again. ‘I’m not interested.’
Adam’s smile was slow. ‘Liar.’
The elevator doors opened again and for a brief second Adam thought he heard her moan. Probably mentally willing their visitor to stay. But by the time the doors closed the spark of fire had returned to her eyes.
‘I meant I didn’t want to know why.’ She cocked her head to one side, the curls at the end of her shoulder-length hair brushing the collar of her jacket. Then she grumbled, ‘If your ego gets any bigger you’ll have to give it its own name.’
‘So why did you tell me you’re in a relationship with my brother if you’re not?’
Roane growled at him. ‘You are the most—’
Adam calmly folded his arms again. ‘Want to know what I think?’
She lifted her arms and flopped them down into a similar folded position, pouting in a way that drew his attention to her mouth. ‘No.’
Adam continued to stare at her mouth. ‘I think you were hiding behind him.’
When she worried on her lower lip it drew his hand out of the crook of his arm, his thumb pressing against it to still the movement. ‘Don’t do that.’
When his gaze rose he found her staring at him, the blue now clouded with—he frowned—was it fear? It made him study her closer, the realization slow to filter through to the front of his brain. ‘This is new to you.’
How could someone with so much fire not have experience of sexual attraction on its most basic level? There was no way she’d got to her age and not—He almost laughed in disbelief at the idea. There was no way she was a virgin.
When the doors slid open he dropped his hand and glanced over his shoulder, frowning when they were joined by several men and women in suits. He knew there was another reason he hated office environments. Too many damn people.
He looked down at Roane again, the flush on her cheeks and the laboured rise and fall of her breasts telling him just how affected she was by their topic of conversation and the proximity he’d forced on her. There was one thing he was sure of—she was turned on. He’d bet she was ready for him already.
He breathed deep as if he might catch the scent of her arousal in the air, then stated the obvious with deep satisfaction. ‘It’s a no to you and Jake.’
‘Well, that genius IQ obviously isn’t wasted on you, is it?’ She glared up at him, then looked away.
‘Was it ever a yes?’
‘No. Happy now?’ Another glare.
Ecstatic. For the first time since he’d laid eyes on her Adam let go. He experienced anticipation thrumming through his veins, the rush of adrenalin pumping his blood harder. It had been a long, long time since he’d been so turned on by the thrill of the chase.
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