Flirting with Felicity (12 page)

He continued to watch her, neither moving forward, nor
retreating. The same desire she had seen in the kitchen earlier today shone in
his eyes, yet he waited. Waited for her?

Something had happened between them tonight, something
special. They shared a bond that went beyond words, a bond that went straight
to her heart. Overhead, the wispy black cloud that covered the moon moved on
and mixed the golden hues with blue-white light.

“I’d forgotten what this place meant to me once,” He trailed
his finger across her cheek, to her chin, down her neck and into the V between
her breasts.

Her breasts tightened.

The night whispered about them, and cooling air swirled
around their feet. He brought his hands to her waist and pulled her closer. She
could feel herself shift upward as his lips descended.

Felicity moaned at the contact. This kiss was different from
his last one—feather soft at first. And it made her burn.

He left her lips and trailed a blazing path down her jaw to
her neck, his tongue tracing her skin ever so lightly. She wrapped her arms
around his shoulders and surrendered her weight to him.

“You’re so tempting,” he whispered, then traced the curve of
her ear with his tongue.

She knew she should pull away, that she should fight the
raging need in her. This man had the power to take everything away from her. He
was supposed to be her opponent. If she gave in to her own desire, he would
have the power to hurt her more. Would that possible hurt be worth the risk?
Because all she wanted to do right now was give herself over to the pleasure he
created in her and spend the rest of the night exploring every inch of his body
with her lips, her hands, and her tongue.

He found her mouth once more. His tongue slipped between her
lips to touch hers. At the contact, a jolt of pure electricity shot through her
body and landed in her core. Slowly, with a tiny portion of her brain that was
still capable of rational thought, she lifted her lips from his but didn’t look
away.

His midnight eyes were filled with blatant desire, and, for a
heartbeat, she was tempted to continue, to see where the night would take them.
Her body still on fire, she took a step back.

Blake held on to her hands, but allowed her to put some
distance between them. “Tell me something?” she asked.

He arched a brow, but didn’t say anything as he kept looking
at her as though he wanted to devour her right then and there.

Standing there, bathed in moonlight, with his hair slightly
tousled, he looked more dashing than any man had a right to. The air between
them was rife with tension, with mutual need. The force of it took her breath
and made her both weak and strong at the same time. “Has anything I showed you
today made you reconsider your plans for the Bancroft?”

“I would like to say no, but then I’d be lying.”

Warmed by his words, she squeezed his hands. “Thank you for
your honesty.”

He gave her a tight-lipped smile. His eyes were alive with
humor and hunger. “There’s no reason to lie.”

A thousand emotions tore through Felicity. Gratitude, humor,
but most of all desire. With a groan, she pulled away and walked over to the
balcony’s edge, gazing once more across the city. She had to look anywhere but
at him, or she knew where the night would end . . . in his bed.

“Tomorrow it’s your turn to show me your world.” He came to
stand beside her, and her heart sped up once more. He didn’t even have to touch
her for her body to react. “Is there anything special I need to pack?” She
turned to face him.

He reached out and caressed her jaw with the back of his
hand. “What I want to show you doesn’t require any clothes at all,” he said
with a grin.

She shivered at his touch. “I’m sure public nudity is frowned
upon in San Francisco.”

“Oh, c’mon,” he said, his voice teasing. “We’ll set a new
fashion trend.”

She looked at the sky, imploring divine aid. “Dear God, wherever
he takes me tomorrow, please make it be warm if clothing is optional.”

He laughed. “All right. Whatever you have I’m sure will be
fine. You might want a summer dress, maybe a swimsuit, and definitely something
formal.”

Felicity’s laughter faded.
Something formal?
“When
is Peter picking us up for the airport?”

“At noon.”

Great. That gave her two hours after the stores opened to
find not only a swimsuit, but a formal gown worthy of Blake Bancroft. And she
knew just who to ask for help.

To Felicity, clothes were meant to cover her body and provide
warmth. In Mary Beth’s prior life as a socialite, she had learned how to use
clothes to make a statement.

Felicity took in the man before her. Oh, she definitely
needed to make a statement if she were going to win the challenge he put before
her. On his territory, she would need every advantage.

Blake flipped up the hood of his windbreaker as he
stepped outside the Bancroft Hotel. He was about to get started on a morning
run that would help him forget about the woman who occupied far too many of his
thoughts these days, when he noticed Destiny leaning against the lamppost on
the corner across from the hotel. She was dressed in a gray jogging suit, and,
upon seeing him, crossed the street.

“Destiny,” he greeted, not even trying to keep his irritation
from his voice. She held a white bag and two cups of coffee in her hands. “When
you didn’t call, I knew I had to take matters into my own hands.” She offered
him an encouraging smile. “I brought breakfast for two.”

Blake frowned. He hadn’t called Destiny, because he had no
intention of telling her what should remain private between him and Felicity. “I’m
going for a run.”

“Mind if I join you?”

He arched a brow. “With coffee and donuts?”

“They’re spinach feta wraps, and . . . oh, I suppose it
really doesn’t matter what they are.” She looked around her, then moved to the
other side of the street again and deposited the food with a young boy walking
a dog before returning to Blake’s side.

“Isn’t he a little young for coffee?”

She shrugged. “He’s got to have parents around here
somewhere. Let’s go.”

When Blake realized he wasn’t going to get rid of the
reporter, he figured he would simply outrun her. He started off down Terry
Avenue the way he and Felicity had walked just the other day. A run along the
waterfront had seemed like a good idea this morning. Now he wasn’t so certain.

“Rough night?”

He’d had a hard time sleeping as his thoughts kept going back
to Felicity. “Do I look that bad?”

“I doubt you’ve looked bad a day in your life, regardless of
sleep, or other activities,” she said, keeping pace.

“I have no intention of discussing the Bancroft with you,” he
said as a gull squawked overhead.

“We can talk about whatever you want to talk about.”

“What do you want, Destiny?” He settled into his usual
rhythm, feeling irritated that she was keeping up with him.

“Was your uncle always manipulative?” Her tone was carefree,
but Blake sensed the question was more important to her than she tried to
reveal.

“Are you asking for my sake, Felicity’s, or yours?” The
staccato of their footsteps punctuated each word.

She looked at him briefly, then turned her gaze back to the
street before them. “Don’t be dramatic. I just want to know why the old man
left Felicity the hotel over you. She was company for him, but nothing more. So
why would he be that generous with her, unless there’s more to the story.”

“It’s a story I don’t know. If you want any information,
you’ll have to go to Felicity herself.”

“She’ll never talk to me. Not now.”

“Because of whatever feud is between the two of you? She said
you used to be friends.”

They came to a light at Alaskan Way and were forced to stop.
Blake jogged in place while Destiny doubled over, trying to catch her breath. “Sometimes
life makes certain choices for you.”

The sharpness of Destiny’s tone caused him to look at her in
surprise. “What do you mean?”

She straightened. “Nothing.” The light changed, and she
bolted across the street.

The scents of salt and sea and creosote touched his senses as
he crossed the street to join her. “Why write a story at all? There’s no news
there.” As they had the other morning, fishermen lined the wharf, trying to
sell their morning catch.

“You’re wrong. Whatever happened between your uncle and
Felicity is newsworthy.” Her cheeks were mottled, and she was starting to show
fatigue.

“What’s newsworthy about an old man dying? And he died of
natural causes, so don’t even think of going down that path.” The sound of
their footsteps on the pavement joined the rumble of voices coming from the
makeshift market.

“But there’s more to this story than your uncle dying
unexpectedly. I intend to prove that Felicity knew who Vernon Bancroft was
before he died, and that she manipulated him into leaving her this hotel.”

“For your own revenge, or for the good of the community?”

“Maybe a little of both. Felicity is living in the past, as
far as the Bancroft is concerned. The glories of the old place faded long ago.
It’s time for the Bancroft to step into the future. That’s what you want, isn’t
it?”

“It’s all I want.” He was lying to himself. That wasn’t all
he wanted. His motives weren’t as pure as he was trying to convince himself.
His corporation wanted one thing from Felicity; his body wanted something more.

“Then let’s make that happen together. Let me take you to
dinner tonight. We can talk and see where that leads us,” she said
suggestively.

One part of his mind accepted that what Destiny was doing
could be good for him and his cause. The other part, the part in turmoil, wanted
to whisk Felicity away and keep her safe from Destiny and anyone else. He shook
his head at his own thoughts. He couldn’t have it both ways. There was no way
for him to have the Bancroft as well as the woman who currently owned the
place. And he certainly wasn’t interested in talking about himself or his uncle
Vern. “We’re done here.”

“Then I’d watch your back if I were you.”

“Is that a threat?” His tone was like ice.

“No. It’s a promise.”

She stopped running and Blake shot ahead, leaving her and her
shallow threats behind. He hadn’t made it to his current level in the company
without making a few enemies along the way. Destiny’s threats didn’t scare him.
Besides, that’s what his security guards were paid to protect him from.

What did disturb him was the fact that he hadn’t taken
Destiny up on her offer to tarnish Felicity’s reputation and ultimately her
ability to make the hotel a success.

Why did he hesitate now? This was business after all.

Was what she’d shown him over the past two days actually changing
his mind—that the Bancroft was more than just a hotel to many people? Did he
have the right to destroy all that, regardless of what he thought about
Felicity?

Blake groaned at the thought of her. He couldn’t seem to
forget the way she smelled or the way she moved. Her lithe body was a symphony
of grace, and all too easily he could imagine her in his arms.

His hands flexed unconsciously, as if trying to dispel the
sensation of Felicity beneath his touch last night on the balcony. She had been
soft and warm and sweeter than anything he’d ever tasted before. What was it
about her that intrigued him so? Just the thought of her fingers brushing
against his flesh made his blood thicken and his body tense.

He stared off into the distance, trying to regain control of
his desire without much success. Not when he knew what lay ahead. They would
spend the weekend together in close proximity. If he’d thought her hard to
resist in Seattle, she would be temptation itself on their trip. His original
goal had been to prove to her that the Bancroft deserved to become a leader in
green technology. He would convince her of that, and so much more. A slow smile
came to his lips. He could accomplish both tasks in the proper setting.

Felicity had agreed to give him two whole days, but he’d
never mentioned exactly where he intended to take her. On that thought, Blake
pulled out his cell phone. He had two hours to arrange an alternative plan.

When Felicity entered the lobby that morning, she
found Mary Beth waiting for her. Felicity barely had time to offer her friend a
greeting, before Mary Beth whisked her out of the front entrance and into
Blake’s unengaged limousine parked in the circular drive.

“I hope you don’t mind, but when I saw Peter waiting here
this morning, I asked him if he would escort us around town,” Mary Beth said. “I
know I should have asked you first, but this seemed so much more expedient.
We’ll have more time for shopping this way.”

“No, I don’t mind,” Felicity said as Mary Beth ushered her
into the backseat. “Where are we going?”

Mary Beth stepped into the limousine, and Peter closed the
door. “We’ll start at Luly Lang on Fourth Avenue.”

As Peter started the car, Mary Beth settled back against the
plush leather seats. “Lord, I love this car almost as much as I love spending
other people’s money.”

In the rearview mirror, Felicity could see Peter smile at the
two of them before he returned his gaze to the road. It didn’t take long to
drive down the hills to the shopping core of Seattle’s downtown between Fifth
and Sixth Avenues. Peter pulled the limousine to the curb and came around to
open the door.

Mary Beth stepped out. “Come on, let’s get started. We don’t
have much time.”

Felicity hesitated at the entrance of the high-end boutique. “I
think we are shopping in the wrong end of town for me. I can’t afford—”

“Felicity, you helped me once. Please let me help you now.
This is important. In order to play in Blake’s world, you have to look like you
belong there. Besides,” Mary Beth said as she linked Felicity’s arm with hers
and pulled her toward the entrance, “as owner of the Bancroft Hotel, you have a
certain image to uphold.”

Felicity hesitated a moment more as Mary Beth’s words sank
in. Finally, she allowed Mary Beth to drag her along into the high-end designer
store. Mary Beth was right. For the next two days, she would need to elevate
herself to Blake’s level, and she’d never felt more dull and inadequate as she
did when she was in Blake’s vibrant presence. “Only a few things . . .”
Felicity conceded.

Mary Beth nodded as she moved about the store. “You follow
food blogs, but I follow couture. I still remember the days when this used to
be my life.”

When it came to fashion, Mary Beth did know what she was
doing; she proved it every day by dressing better than anyone else Felicity
knew. And she did it all on a limited budget.

“Why can’t we shop at the stores you usually go to?” Felicity
asked, still hesitant about spending more money than was absolutely necessary.

“Because you need the best—not an imitation of the best—to
take on a man like Blake.”

Reluctantly, Felicity nodded.

Mary Beth responded with a confident smile as she turned back
to the garments near her fingertips. “You need warm colors. Or black. You’d
look stunning in black. I’m thinking a fitted bodice and a flowing skirt. Let’s
play up your assets.”

“My what?” Felicity laughed.

Mary Beth frowned at her. “Do you own a mirror? In the right
clothes we’ll show off your small waist and curves.” She shook her head. “I
don’t know how you do it. You’re the only chef I know who doesn’t look like
she’s a world-class chef around the waist.”

“Get serious, Mary Beth. I’m like everyone else.”

A supercilious look crossed Mary Beth’s face. “You really
have no idea just how beautiful you are, do you?”

“I’m an ugly duckling.”

“No. You’re a swan.” Mary Beth’s eyes filled with humor. “Wait
and see. When I’m done with you, you won’t be able to deny it.”

Felicity stood in front of a giant bay of mirrors
with her arms up, while Mary Beth and one of the saleswomen fitted her with
dress after dress. Even though she was a little dismayed about the amount of
money they were spending, Felicity forced herself to relax and remember Mary
Beth’s advice about fitting into Blake’s world. When they’d finished at Luly
Lang, Mary Beth led her to more of the stores along Seattle’s retail core.

An hour and a half later, they were back in the limousine.
Felicity leaned back against the plush leather interior with a sigh of relief.
Four stores, three dresses, two tops, and a swimsuit later, she was more tired
than if she’d cooked in her kitchen for two days straight. “I’m glad we found
the dresses we did.”

“I think you should wear the mocha-colored dress for whatever
formal event Blake has planned. It’s wonderful with your skin.”