Be Mine (5 page)

T
errence looked at his friend. "That was the woman you helped last night."

Luke pressed his lips together, nodding.

"Is she taking Cilla's place?"

"She's not like that." Luke blew out his breath in irritation. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. "She's different."

"Yes, she is," Terrence mused. "For one she's older."

Luke would have chuckled at his friend's comment had it been any other woman. For some reason, he found Terrence’s comment debasing.

"So?" He arched his eyebrow before gathering the papers strewn across his desk.

Terrence gave him a baffled look. "So you plan on making her your weekender?"

Luke kept silent.

"This is a first. She's attractive, I'll grant you that, and you'd be all over her by now.” Terrence whistled the longer he looked at his friend. "Bloody hell. Gracie Sinclair really is different for you, isn't she? You'd normally say yes or no quickly when I ask you that question. Here, it's like you're stumped!"

Luke pressed his lips together to stop his grin when Terrence’s face became comical. His friend's next words, however, made him scowl.

"She's really hit you hard, hasn't she? I noticed that with that sharp tone earlier. And you've not even fucked her. Interesting."

"Stop talking about her as though she were a slut," Luke bit out.

Terrence held up his hands, surprised. "Hey, mate, just saying. You've never been testy when I talk this way."

Luke threw the folder he was holding on the table, causing a small breeze to lift the other loose leaf of papers from the table with a sigh. He flexed his shoulder and neck muscles. Agitation thrummed through him. Frustration bit at his heels. The wayward muscle between his legs protested at encountering a "do not enter" sign for the first time. How could Luke tell Terrence that he was so close to the truth? How could he justify feeling as though he had been kicked in the teeth, thrown in to a ravine, falling willingly into the chasm? How could he explain his need to protect...Luke swore under his breath. Clarity slammed through him like a bucket of ice water. He turned back to the window, his eyes narrowing in disbelief, unmindful of his friend's perplexed look.

He was feeling protective of another man's woman.

After he got home the night before, he couldn't stop thinking of her. How could he have been hit so hard? What was it that made him think Gracie was the woman for him? After she left him in a blaze of invisible petrol fumes, he had walked to his car in a daze, sitting for several minutes before he realized that he hadn't started the engine. He was so struck by his epiphany, he didn't have the presence of mind to get her car registration number. He never expected to see her again and although it would give him a few hours of blue balls, he was sure he would get over it. Hell, he even thought of going back to the bar later, hoping to catch her again. Hoping she'd park her car in the same spot. Right, who was he kidding? He'd probably be jacking off all over the shower or in his bed for a couple of days until his cock begged for mercy to stop.

It was by sheer dint of will that he stopped himself from showing shock and the tremor of pleasure that burst inside him when he saw her at his office's reception area. She was backlit by the autumn sun. Her deep auburn hair glinted as it caught the day shining through the window. He now knew she had deep brown eyes. It warmed him. Beautiful. Mesmerizing. Genuine. Then it hit him. She was the financial strategist sent by Matt Levinson and Associates, the person he had dreaded meeting the day before because he was just so tired. Earlier that morning, he was close to asking Terrence to take care of discussing the projects so that he could just work from home. Had he done that, he wouldn't have seen her and known who she was. Terrence would have had that sole opportunity.

And Luke didn't like it one bit.

They talked while he immersed himself in her, enjoying the cadence of her voice. Lilting and soft, he already had an idea of how firm she could be.

Sexy.

And while she spoke, his mind was elsewhere, particularly in thinking of laying her down on the couch and getting his fill of her, receptionist be damned. His nose captured the scent of her gentle perfume every time she moved, and he breathed it into his lungs to keep it there, reminding him of someone he wanted but couldn't have. Gracie had taken off her coat earlier and then she preceded him into his office. Luke couldn't take his eyes off the way her hips swayed as she walked, her dark grey pencil skirt hugging her body, cinching her waist and skimming her perfectly shaped derriere. She may not have long legs but to him they were perfectly shaped, sexy calves in sheer black stockings, her feet in black high heels. He nearly groaned when Gracie turned around because her skirt tightened enough for him to see she was wearing a garter belt underneath, the lace of her stay-ups lightly visible through her clothing. Good thing she had been puzzled as to why the CEO wasn't at his desk because if Gracie's gaze had strayed lower, she would have seen the bulge between his legs growing. Hell, he wanted to flush her against his chest, to rub himself between her ass cheeks to let her know how much he wanted her before bending her over his desk to take her from behind. Take her slow, ask her how she wanted it, wanting to hear her come while his hands dug into her hips, thrusting deep into her until he reached his own climax.

She wasn't the kind of woman he was used to having in his bed—women with long legs and perfectly symmetrical bodies whose makeup looked as though they had their own private salon.

Yet for him, Gracie Sinclair was perfect and any touch of the cosmetic surgeon's scalpel would have detracted from her beauty.

Part of him rejoiced at the prospect of seeing her again even while regret pulled strongly at his gut, knowing she belonged to someone else. Why he didn't reveal his identity was more of a reflex. Women who knew who he was immediately gravitated to him, wanting to live vicariously through him. They wanted to bask in his success and partake of his wealth. Gracie didn't even bat an eyelash. No, that wasn't true. He could sense her attraction, could smell it in the air like it was second nature to him but that was it. She refused to exploit that attraction. Luke's mouth lifted in a half grin. The irony wasn't lost on him that he had expected women to fall for his charms and here was a woman who just didn't want to.

Now he knew why. She was married and this truth alone was further strengthened when she knew who he was.

Then Gracie Sinclair just shut down.

He had to admit that he was impressed with her report. She knew what she was talking about. Yet during her spiel, a huge percentage of his thinking process was about having this intelligent woman underneath him, writhing in pleasure. His shaft jerked inside his jeans, and he shifted to ease the pressure of it pressing against the fly.

And that was Luke's problem. If he desired Gracie Sinclair and he had fallen for her, lust or love he hadn't a clue, it would be difficult to work with her. He was a hands-on CEO. He wanted to know everything that went on because Bryce Engineering was his baby, though in time he knew he would have to delegate. If he wasn't careful, he'd have his hands all over Gracie, mapping every curve, tasting every inch of her skin, making her sex his own personal forbidden fruit. He had watched her under hooded eyes while she discussed the projects with Terrence. He watched the way her head angled slightly to one side while she listened to his friend, smiled like sunshine when he said something amusing. Luke didn't like that Gracie's smile was directed at his friend, and growled. They both turned to him at the same time he brought his eyes down on the report.

"You okay, mate?"

Luke grunted.

"Don't mind him," Terrence had said. "He's been like a caged bear all week."

Luke had felt Gracie's gaze on him. He looked up and their gazes clashed. Bloody hell, he could have drowned in them. Emotions flickered through them like a silent movie. Surprise. Curiosity. Warmth. Desire before it disappeared.

That last feeling made his cock twitch as if Gracie had flicked her tongue against the underside of his shaft. He had looked down and seen that his erection had tented. Good thing he was sitting behind his desk.

He needed to take control of the situation and thinking about Gracie's mouth on him wasn't going to help him. He had forced his mind to concentrate on the papers in front of him and not imagine it to be a magazine full of pictures of a naked and writhing Gracie.

Perhaps now was as good a time as any to step back for a while. This was a sign that he should be delegating and not dipping his hands in everything.

The muscle on his jaw ticked.

He'd let Terrence deal with any accounting and financial planning issues his company might have. Let him deal with Matt Levinson and Associates. Luke didn't have any problem with that. After seeing Gracie again he'd make an exception.

He snorted.

Yeah right, mate.

He rubbed the back of his neck to relieve the building tension. The following week away from work was enough to get her out of his system. This was just an overdose of lust, this couldn't be falling in love. He'd hit the bars and see whom he could take to bed. To hell with feeling protective. It would all pass. Maybe he could take up Cilla on her offer. A resounding "No," clanged inside his head like he was in the Notre Dame Bell Tower with Quasimodo.

"If you're so interested in her, why don't you go after her?"

He slowly turned around at Terrence's question, forgetting that his friend was still in the room. He looked down at his desk, shaking his head.

"Why the bloody hell not?" Terrence said, incredulous. "I don't get you, Luke. This funk must really be bad. Who knows? She might just be the right woman for you."

Luke pinned his friend with a glare. "You know why the hell not. She's bloody married, man! You called her Mrs. Sinclair. You're sicker than a sick bastard if you're encouraging me to screw another man's wife."

Terrence’s face cleared, shook his head, and chuckled with amusement. Luke's face was close to being thunderous.

"What?" he snapped. "I swear, Terrence, this has gone too far! I might just forget you're my best friend if—"

"She used to be married, Luke." Terrence interrupted him.

Hope hit him like ice cubes before Luke stated, "She's separated then."

Terrence shook his head.

"No, mate." He paused for effect. "Gracie Sinclair is a widow."

I
t was close to five on Monday afternoon when Gracie finally had a chance to talk to Matt about the Bryce Engineering account. Outside the skies had darkened, a drastic contrast to how the day started. Dark to slate grey mixed with whorls of cornflower blue dominated the expanse, as though gleefully bringing the blanket of night all too soon.

When she left Bryce Engineering offices on Friday, she sat in her car for a long time to quell her racing heart. She deliberately didn't say goodbye using Luke's given name, and she saw the displeasure in his eyes. If Terrence hadn't been there, would he have forced the issue and insist that she call him by his name? While that fleeting sentiment made her pulse flutter, it also gave her a trickle of trepidation. The thought of being forced to do something she didn't want to do brought back traumatic bits and pieces of memories haphazardly scattered in her psyche. She could have easily lost it and cowered inside that office. What would that have achieved? Doubts about her abilities would probably plague Luke and Terrence. She couldn't allow that to happen.

Staying on her toes was the only thing that had kept her sane.

Yet, that underlying threat of danger Luke exuded felt different from the peril Jonathan brought into their marriage. Danger made Luke appealing, exciting. Peril made Jonathan look maniacal, diabolical.

"I have to admit I'm surprised at your decision to let go of the Bryce account," Matt Levinson said. He leaned back on his chair and looked at Gracie over the rim of his glasses, his dark hair falling over his forehead. "Why are you giving all of your hard work away?"

"I'm not giving it away. I've done everything that needs to be done." Gracie shrugged. "Besides, you need my help with other accounts. Veronica can monitor this one. Any questions then she can ask me."

"Hhhmm..." was Matt's non-committal answer while he perused his copy of the accounts annotating it while Gracie did the same on her copy. "Okay, I'll allow it only because there's another client account I want you to look at. This time, you'll be auditing them."

"Sounds good." Gracie's mouth lifted to a half smile. Problem solved. She brushed aside the tinge of regret that sank squarely on her chest.

Matt's phone rang.

"Yes," he answered. Surprise registered on his face. "Okay."

He returned the receiver to its cradle before looking at Gracie in bemusement.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Luke Bryce is outside in reception," he murmured. "He wants to talk to you."

"Me? Whatever for?" Gracie's pulse rate suddenly jacked up. She couldn't help the stirrings of excitement harvesting a host of butterflies in her belly.

Matt shrugged. "I haven’t told them that you're letting go."

"He didn't have to come to the office," she muttered.

"Why wouldn't he?" He frowned in puzzlement. "Is there something you'd like to tell me?"

Gracie inhaled slowly to stem her racing pulse. "None. It's okay. I'll deal with it." Standing up, she smoothed down her skirt, then took a moment to make sure her legs weren't wobbly before walking towards the door. "Might as well see what he wants. After this, you can hand the account over to Veronica. She's very good at her job."

Matt stood up as well and nodded. "Okay. That will give you more time to go through the other accounts we have." He gathered the papers strewn across his desk to put them together in a neat stack. "Any plans for the weekend?"

She chuckled. "Apart from getting loads of sleep which I sorely need now? Spending quality time with Flynn is my priority. Haven't been able to do that."

"Sorry, Gracie." Matt sounded sheepish as he gave her a rueful glance.

"It isn't your fault, Matt. Never think of it that way."

She didn't need to elaborate, but they both knew the reason. Matt got so enamoured with the temp secretary he got for Gracie that he didn't realize that the quality of her work left a lot to be desired.

Once out in the narrow carpeted corridor, Gracie exhaled. She couldn't let her imagination run wild. Luke might just want to go over something in the report or he was just in the neighbourhood. Unless he lived close by in one of the loft conversions in the centre of the city, this wasn't exactly someone's regular neighbourhood. Then again, what would she know?

She had to pass through reception before reaching her office. Her heart started to beat louder the closer she got to reception, not dissimilar to the pounding beat of the "Jaws" theme. Her eyes widened fractionally, and she stopped in her tracks.

Luke Bryce was leaning against her office door. He wore denims and a pastel blue Ralph Lauren button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to show his muscular forearms. The logo was discreet unlike the brand's other shirts that seemed to scream that the horse and rider were just about to join the charge of the Light Brigade.

She resumed walking.

"Mr. Bryce, you should have waited for me to get you from reception," she said, trying to inject displeasure in her tone when she was feeling the opposite.

"It's Luke, Gracie. I want you to call me that."

Her eyebrow lifted of its own volition.

"What is it you wanted?" she asked, not bothering to say his name. Irritation flashed in his eyes before it was gone. Slight apprehension uncoiled inside her. Gracie hacked it with a mental knife.

This man wasn't Jonathan. This man was the opposite and her body knew it.

"Let's talk inside your office."

Gracie saw that the receptionist had left her post and was watching their exchange with interest.

"Very well," she muttered, walking towards him to open the door. As she did, his cologne drifted to her nose, and she inhaled deeply. His body heat embraced her, ratcheting her awareness of this virile man who had no problem invading her personal space, making her very aware of his sex appeal. He was so near that when he exhaled she could feel his breath close to her temple. Her sex pulsed at the contact.

She twisted the doorknob, walked ahead, and waited for him to come in. When she turned around after closing the door, he was standing so close to her that she had to tilt her head up. Her breath hitched when she saw his eyes smoulder, the heat in them burning a trail down her sternum to spread across her breasts. Heart in her throat and excitement running through her bloodstream, she took in everything Luke Bryce was. From the shadow that covered his jaw, to his deep set eyes that seemed to look into her very soul, and his wide mouth that she desperately wanted to kiss. Oh God, she wanted what he was offering. Her mind battled against itself. She wanted to move away and yet wanted to stay. He used her moment of indecision to cage her in with his hands against the door by her shoulders. If lust had a scent, Gracie knew what it was. Freaking hot, delicious, and damn good. It swirled around her in a sensual blanket, and she could feel her pulse throbbing in her clit, causing her core to moisten in response. Her nipples also responded by budding inside her bra, the lace sensually abrasive against the points.

"You lied to me," he said softly.

"Excuse me." Her eyes snapped to his deep blues.

He was unperturbed at her consternation. "You said you were married."

"I am Mrs. Sinclair."

"Yes, you are. Widow of Jonathan Sinclair."

She sucked in a sharp breath.

"It doesn't matter how I know, Gracie," he admonished gently, answering the unspoken question in her eyes. "Why did you make me believe you were still married?"

"What's it to you?"

“Why didn't you want to go out with me?"

She sighed, closing her eyes. Try as she might, she couldn't open them again as excitement seeped through her pores and pleasure slowly built inside her, warming her thighs, circling inside her belly before going up slowly, languidly to tease her nipples and add to the rapid rate of her heart. Oh God, this man was wreaking havoc on her body. Her lips parted when she felt Luke's breath brush her cheek, her face angling towards his involuntarily. She made a sound between a gasp and a moan when his tongue caressed her earlobe before tracing the shell of her ear. She felt like falling and raised her hands to push him away but as soon as her palms touched his chest, they heated, her fingers nearly curling against his pectorals. The flicker of desire inside her roared to life. Luke moved forward, pinning her to the door. She was not able to stop the soft and rapid pants coming out of her lips, and could feel her sex moisten further at the hardness of his arousal against her belly, igniting the fire that had been dormant for so long. She brushed her lips against his jaw. Luke didn't need any further prodding and turned his head to capture her mouth.

Sweet joy stormed into her very soul. Luke's tongue seared the seam of her lips, teasing, coaxing, exploring, before he parted the barrier her teeth put up to invade her mouth. He claimed her tongue, tasting it, flicking it, playing with it until Gracie growled softly and deepened the kiss. The kiss was rough and filled with unbridled need. Their tongues greedily explored, staked, and claimed. Their breaths became hot and heavy, each wanting to give and take as much as they could. Gracie moaned against Luke's mouth as her arms encircled his neck. She slanted her mouth to give him more access and the more he swirled his tongue with hers, the more he nibbled on her lips, the more liquid heat flowed from her core. Her mouth parted against his lips, taking in his breath as Luke's hands lifted her skirt to skim her stockings, teasing the lace band that held it up before drifting towards her mound. Gracie's breath came short and fast, and she moaned when Luke's finger teased her against the wet silken fabric.

"So wet, Mrs. Sinclair," he rasped. "Did I do this? Let me see if I've done a good job." He slipped his finger inside her panties and found her engorged bundle of nerves, spreading her wetness over it. "Yes, baby. It seems I did." His mouth dipped to suck the skin against her erratically beating pulse. Slowly, he rubbed, but Gracie couldn't get enough. He was toying with her. When she moved to direct his digit, Luke would move it away.

"Please." She sighed. He raised his head, his gaze filled with lust made her melt to a quivering mass. Her hips moved of their own volition, urging him to take her. "Luke."

That was all he needed to insert his finger inside her.

Gracie almost buckled had it not been for Luke's arm around her waist. She leaned into his neck, her mouth automatically kissing his throat, her eyes closing at the pleasure she was receiving. Her hips bucked against his finger, her clit seeking to be pampered, her whole being attuned to Luke's finger that teased and played with her, enjoying the sensation of his callused digit going in and out of her. She whimpered when he took his finger out to lazily swirl it around her clit, spreading more of her wetness before inserting two fingers inside her.

"So wet," he said, his voice rough with his own arousal. "That's it, baby. Feel my fingers fucking you." Luke bent down to nibble her ear lobe before he whispered, "My cock wants to fuck you too so much."

"I thought we were just supposed to go out...oh God." Gracie's voice was soft but shrill. Her hand clamped down on Luke's wrist. He lifted his head and her eyes flew up to his, and she was ensnared in those depths where she knew his passion lay. Luke hissed before he stopped what he was doing, his eyes burning with a hunger that matched hers. Then his finger began to move again. Gracie's breath hitched, yet she didn't stop him, her hand still holding him. The more the pleasure suffused her, the harder she held. Her hips followed the tempo of Luke's finger on her clit. He was the maestro and she the violin. Gracie spread her legs wider and gave a silent cry as she closed her eyes, her head thrown back against the door that silently creaked on its hinges. Gracie couldn't help herself. Her movements added to the sound that was thankfully muffled by the carpet. Luke's fingers stoked the building desire inside her. Almost there. She panted, her lips parted. She melted against Luke when he placed open mouth kisses against the column of her throat. His breath was also ragged, his arousal a raging beast against her belly.

"Do you like what I'm doing to you?" His voice was harsh with lust in her ear.

"Yes..." Her answer came from a breath and a sigh. Gracie moaned, the sound becoming louder. She was melting, and she wouldn't be surprised if she became a puddle on the floor. Her stomach quivered and knees almost buckled underneath her as Luke continued to entice her surrender, circling her and going back inside her, hooking his fingers to touch her G-spot. She was so close, she could feel her climax about to crest. He stifled her whimpers with a hard kiss, swallowing her cry of pleasure, and Gracie couldn't do anything but hold on to him.

The shrill ring of the phone slammed into her senses, pulling her away from their lust-filled cocoon. In a daze, she looked at him before the third ring became the bucket of water pulling her back to reality. In alarm, she immediately moved away from Luke, gasping at the way his fingers slowly slid away from inside her. She straightened her skirt and on stilted legs walked to her desk. Her quim was so wet that she almost stumbled.

"Hello."

"Gracie, is everything all right?" Matt asked.

"Yes, everything's fine." Her voice sounded shrill even to her. "Why wouldn't it be?"