Beauty and the Wolf (14 page)

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Authors: Lois Faye Dyer

BOOK: Beauty and the Wolf
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Frankie picked up her purse. “I'm sorry I can't stay and help with the applications. Perhaps I can go over them later in the week at your house, Mom?”

“Of course, dear.” Cornelia smiled benignly at her.

But as Frankie turned to leave, she saw her mother turn to face Harry, her expression threatening.

“Harry, explain yourself.” Cornelia's demand held an ominous tone even Harry couldn't ignore, Frankie thought as she swept out of the library and then out of the house.

She hadn't wanted to confront Harry about his matchmaking, because she was well aware he had good intentions and meant well. But sometimes, she told herself as she drove home, there was no other recourse than to be blunt and forceful.

Which pretty much described how Cornelia was probably dealing with him at the moment, she thought with a grin.

 

“Harry Hunt, I cannot believe you're doing this again.”

“Now, Cornelia, you know we discussed how much Frankie and Nicholas have in common,” Harry said, trying to placate her. “And how great it would be if they got together.”

“That doesn't mean I wanted you to blatantly suggest Nicholas should call and ask her out.” Cornelia was livid, her eyes snapping with frustration. “For heaven's sake, Harry, how many times do you have to be told to stop interfering in our children's lives? First your sons—and that came much too close to being disastrous,” she said. “And now my girls? You've got to stop this. No more!”

“My boys are all happily married,” he pointed out in an attempt to reason with her. “And if I hadn't given them an ultimatum, God knows whether they ever would have considered marriage.”

“We'll have to agree to disagree on the subject of your sons,” Cornelia told him. “But as for my daughters…”

She stood, picked up her purse, and pointed her index finger at him. “Leave my girls alone, Harry. Period.”

And with that, Cornelia turned on her heel and marched regally out of the library, leaving Harry to mumble and mutter and stare morosely at the closed door.

He'd really angered Cornelia this time, he thought,
and Frankie, too. Much as he hated to give in, he supposed he'd have to abandon his efforts to get Frankie and Nicholas together.

Too bad, he mused. They had so much in common.

Harry frowned, thinking about Frankie's stunning declaration.

If Eli's sleeping with Frankie,
Harry decided grimly,
he'd better have marriage in mind.

I think I'll have a talk with him.
Harry shoved away from the table and stood to stride out of the library, his steps purposeful.

Chapter Thirteen

H
arry's black limo pulled into the Wolf Construction building site near the university campus late the following afternoon. The long car bumped and rolled over the rough dirt-and-gravel surface, its tires splashing through muddy puddles left from predawn showers.

The driver slotted the big car into an area in front of the work trailer. The pickups and cars of the work crew had long since left the lot, but Eli's work truck was still parked in front of the trailer. Harry exited the vehicle, his long, black overcoat flapping in the breeze as he climbed the wooden steps and knocked on the door. No one answered. He turned, scanning the scaffolding of the building under construction on his left.

“Harry,” Eli called as he stepped between the studs
of a first-floor garage and strode across the lot toward him. “What brings you out here so late?”

“I was hoping to talk to you. Have you got a few minutes?”

“Sure. Let's go inside.” Eli led the way into the portable office. “Have a seat, Harry. Want something to drink?” he asked over his shoulder as he took a mug off the pegs on the wall above the coffeemaker.

“I could use a cup of coffee, black,” Harry replied, hands shoved in his coat pockets as he inspected the blueprints taped on the wall next to the drafting table.

“Here you are.” Eli handed Harry a steaming mug and leaned his hips against the drafting table, muddy work boots crossed at the ankle. “So, what can I do for you, Harry?”

“Frankie came by the house last night,” Harry said. “And after what she told her mother and me, I decided to look you up and ask you point-blank…” He fixed Eli with a steely gaze. “What are your intentions toward my niece?”

Eli blinked once and set his mug down on the counter. “Exactly what did Frankie tell you?” he asked, curious.

“Nothing you don't already know,” Harry growled.

“Humor me,” Eli said, his gaze holding Harry's.

“She said the two of you have not only been dating—you've been sleeping together.”

“Did she?”

“Yes, she did,” Harry said. “In fact, I believe she said it was hot, sweaty and fabulous. Then she said she might
be pregnant already, given how often the two of you have been going at it. Which is why I'm asking you—what the hell do you intend to do about Frankie?”

Stunned, Eli stared at Harry for a full minute as he tried to absorb the surprising information. Then a slow smile curved his lips. “Harry, I can guarantee you I don't plan to do anything that would harm Frankie, nor anything she doesn't want me to do.”

“That didn't answer my question.” Harry's brows lowered.

“No, it didn't.” Eli unbuckled his tool belt and slung it on the counter behind him. “And with all due respect for your concern about Frankie, and your long relation ship as her adopted uncle, I'm not going to answer it.”

He shrugged out of his safety vest and hung it on the high back of the drafter's stool.

“Wolf Construction and Dean Construction are the final two companies being considered to build the HuntCom campus,” Harry said. “Whether or not you plan to marry Frankie could make a big difference as to who's awarded the contract.”

Eli stiffened, anger roaring through his veins.

“Harry, I've known you a long time, and I've al ways had the greatest respect for you.” His voice turned colder. “But if you think you can make Frankie a part of some business deal, you're dead wrong. Give the con tract to Dean Construction—I don't want it.”

He turned on his heel and in two long strides, reached the door.

“Well, I'll be damned.” Harry's mellow tones held amazed delight. “You love her.”

Eli froze, hand on the door latch. He looked over his shoulder, frowning at Harry. “I never said I love Frankie.”

“You don't have to.” Harry's grin lit his entire face. “I've known you since you were a kid, and over the years I've watched you build your father and grandfather's company into a powerhouse. There's no way you'd turn down a contract like HuntCom's unless you had a powerful incentive. And that's love,” he added, beaming.

Eli shook his head at Harry's insistence. Over the last few days, he'd privately acknowledged to himself that he was in love with Frankie. But he'd be damned if he told Harry before he bared his heart to her. “Believe what you like, Harry, but leave Frankie alone. And don't encourage Nicholas again.” His voice was a low, threatening growl.

“Of course I won't,” Harry replied with alacrity. “She's obviously taken.” He rubbed his hands together, clearly relishing what he thought was a match between Eli and Frankie.

Eli could have groaned aloud. He bit off a hot retort about the older man's interference in Frankie's life. “Think what you like, Harry, but stop looking for men to send after Frankie.”

And with that, Eli shoved open the door and left the trailer, loping down the wooden steps to his truck. As he backed out of his parking slot and left the lot, he saw Harry exit the trailer, standing on the wooden steps with
the evening breeze lifting his black hair, a satisfied smile on his face as he watched Eli depart.

Eli wanted to drive straight to Frankie's condo and talk to her, but he knew she was having dinner with her mother tonight. Besides, he was muddy after a day spent on the job site, so he reined in his impatience and instead went home, where he showered, shaved and changed clothes before driving to Queen Anne. He made a stop at Ballard Blossom to pick up a bouquet of flowers.

It was barely seven-thirty when he knocked on her door.

“Eli.” Frankie opened the door, surprise and pleasure easily readable on her features. “I didn't know you were coming over tonight. I thought you had a meeting.”

“I did—but I decided not to go.” Eli hadn't given the meeting another thought after Harry told him about Frankie's declaration. He stepped inside, closing the door as he held out the flowers.

“Oh, Eli, they're lovely.” Frankie cradled the bouquet, dropping her head to inhale, her lashes lowering. “They smell marvelous—just like spring.” Her brown eyes were soft as she looked up at him. “How did you know I was wishing for winter to go away today?”

“I didn't. I just wanted to see you smile, and since you love flowers, I figured these would do it.”

Her lush mouth curved, her brown eyes warm as she met his gaze. “You were right,” she murmured. She waved her hand toward the living room. “Why don't you have a seat? I'll put these in water.”

Eli followed her into the kitchen, leaning against the
doorjamb to watch as she went up on her toes to reach a shelf above the sink.

She wore a pair of dark green knit pants with a tie at the waist. As she stretched to reach a crystal vase on an upper shelf, her short-sleeve white knit top rode up to reveal a strip of soft pale skin and the delicate indentation of her navel above the waistband of the green pants. Her blond hair was loose, brushing against her shoulders as she turned her head to look at him.

“Have you had dinner?” she asked, casting a sideways glance at him before running tap water into the vase.

“I grabbed a sandwich at home.” He didn't tell her he'd eaten it in three bites while he stripped off muddy clothes before showering.

“If you're still hungry, Mom sent beef Stroganoff and pineapple cheesecake home with me.”

Eli was tempted. But other things were uppermost in his mind, so he shook his head. “Thanks, but I'm good.”

Finished with arranging the fragrant blue, pink and white blooms, Frankie picked up the vase and walked past him into the living room. Eli followed her, tensing as she bent to set the vase on the coffee table, the soft green knit pulling tight over the curve of her bottom as she did so.

“I'm glad you're here, Eli, I have something I wanted to talk to you about and didn't want to do it over the phone.” She turned and found Eli so close that she effectively stepped into his arms. “Oh.” Startled, she clutched his biceps.

He settled his hands at her waist, steadying her.

“I had a visit from Harry today,” he told her, watching intently for her reaction.

Frankie groaned and closed her eyes, then opened them to look up at him. “I'm afraid to ask why,” she said.

“He wanted to know my intentions.”

“Your intentions? About what?” She frowned at him, puzzled.

“You,” Eli said succinctly.

She stared at him, still clearly puzzled, before understanding dawned. She flushed, color moving up her throat to stain her cheeks a deeper pink. “I'm going to kill him,” she muttered. “I suppose he told you about my conversation with him and Mom last night?”

“Part of it,” Eli confirmed.

“I was afraid of that,” she told him. “That's what I wanted to talk to you about tonight, Eli. I'm afraid I lost my temper with Harry and told him we're sleeping together.”

“That's what he said.” Eli tugged her forward until her thighs rested against his. “He also said you thought it was hot, sweaty and fabulous.”

Frankie's face turned pinker, but her brown gaze remained on his. “Yes, that's what I said. But, Eli, I lost my temper,” she repeated. “Not that it's an excuse for lying,” she added hastily. “Harry had just finished telling Mom I was likely to have more university degrees by the time I was forty but not children.” Her eyes sparked
with anger. “He all but said I was too much of a bookish nerd to attract a man.”

“Harry's an idiot.” Eli was dumbfounded. “Where did he get the idea you couldn't get a man? You're beautiful and sexy as hell. You must have men following you around with their tongues hanging out.”

Startled, Frankie laughed with delight. She slipped her arms around his neck. “You're such a charmer, Eli.”

“No, I'm just stating the obvious.” He urged her closer. “I'm glad you told Harry and your mom we're sleeping together. Because it gave me hope. I don't think you would have said that in front of your mother if you weren't ready for it to be true.”

Her eyes widened. “I'm not sure I—”

Eli bent his head and stopped her protests by covering her mouth with his. The soft curves of her body already rested trustingly against the harder angles of his, and she murmured with pleasure when he stroked one hand up her spine to cup the back of her head. Her hair was pale silk against his fingers, her soft curves willing as he urged her closer.

“Honey,” he said, reluctantly releasing her mouth to lift his head and look down at her. Only inches separated them. Her thick-lashed brown eyes were dazed, eyelids heavy, and her soft mouth was faintly swollen from the pressure of his. “Take me to bed.” He stroked his tongue over the lush fullness of her lower lip, tasting her, and she shuddered.

“Yes,” she murmured against his lips.

She slipped her hands from his neck, catching his hand to tug him with her into her bedroom. She stopped next to her bed and began unbuttoning his shirt, slipping the buttons through the holes with slow concentration. She tugged the shirttails out of his jeans and pushed the white cotton off his shoulders.

Eli grabbed the white T-shirt he wore underneath and yanked it up and off over his head, tossing it behind him on the floor. Frankie murmured, a soft hum of approval. He shuddered when she flattened her palms on his abdomen, tracing the swell of muscles.

The fascination on her face was arousing as hell. Eli stood it as long as he could, loving the feel of her hands on him, before he bent and took her mouth with his in a quick, hard kiss. He slipped his hands under the hem of her cotton T-shirt and pulled it up, her hair drawn upward to expose the arch of her throat and nape, then tumbling to her shoulders when he tugged the shirt off over her head. Beneath it, she wore a pale green lace and satin bra. Pretty though it was, Eli wanted her naked.

He wrapped his arms around her and a moment later, tugged the bra free and slid the straps down her arms. He froze, hands on her waist, and stared.

Frankie was awash in pleasure. It took her a moment to realize Eli had gone still. She swept her tumbled hair behind one ear and looked up to find his eyes heavy-lidded and intent, smoky with arousal.

“You're so beautiful,” he muttered, his voice rasping, deeper than a moment before.

His hands stroked upward from her waist, tracing
over her rib cage. He eased her closer, his thumbs brushing the lower curve of her breasts. Then one arm swept around her waist, bending her backward as his mouth took hers and one hand cupped her breast. Frankie shuddered when his thumb stroked over the sensitive, taut nipple, and she strained closer, pushing against him, wanting more contact.

Eli groaned, his lips tasting the underside of her chin, the curve of her throat and upper swell of her breast before his mouth closed over the tip. Frankie twisted against him, shivering with pleasure, her arms holding him closer. The heat between them rose higher.

Impatient, Eli shoved the knit pants down her legs and hooked his thumbs under the lace-covered bikini panties over her hips. He eased them down her legs and off before tumbling her backward onto the bed. She held out her arms, waiting as he shoved his jeans and boxers off before joining her.

The hard angles of his body settled against hers, and Frankie welcomed his solid weight. Her breasts were crushed softly against the powerful muscles of his chest; Frankie twisted, loving the slide of his skin against the sensitive tips.

Eli took her mouth, nudging her knees apart with his thigh. Frankie shuddered, wanting him even closer, and wrapped her legs around his waist. Groaning, he flexed his hips and with a powerful surge, joined them. She cried out, arching beneath him, and the world narrowed to the man above her, heat raging out of control until they both shuddered, falling over the edge together.

 

“Good morning, sunshine.”

Frankie muttered and burrowed deeper into her pillow.

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