Can't Buy Me Love (10 page)

Chapter Twelve

“I’ll let you do the honors.” Allison handed the chilled bottle of Veuve Cliquot to Cole.

Cole placed a white linen napkin over the top of the bottle and twisted. A sudden pop, and champagne erupted. Allison giggled as did Meg, unable to contain her glee.

“I can’t tell you how thrilled I am to get my husband to myself after all these years,” Allison said, and handed Stan a glass of bubbly.

“You say that
now
,” Stan teased, “but you may sing a different tune once you’ve been stuck with me for six or seven months.”

“Never,” Allison said.

She handed Meg a glass of champagne. Cole poured Allison a glass and then finally himself. Meg’s face flushed with pleasure. Stability be dammed. She wanted only to rush to Cole and have him wrap her in his arms. She wanted him to tell her what a magnificent job she’d done. She wanted him to lean forward and plant those amazing lips upon hers—lips that pulled hot sensual feelings from deep within her.

“May I?” Cole held up his glass.

Both Allison and Stan nodded. Cole’s expression was so earnest, so open, so sincere. He didn’t often wear these emotions on his face. His expression was usually stone-like, punctuated with a gambler’s winning smile.

“To TBC joining the Comnet family,” Cole said, and looked from Stan and Allison and finally to Meg.

Her heart flipped in her chest as their eyes locked.

“And to Meg, TBC’s president of operations.”

Meg clutched her hand over her heart. That couldn’t be right. Cole must have misspoke. He said
president
of operations for TBC?

“Well, say something, Meggy,” Cole teased. He lifted his eyebrow and cocky tilt his head, indicating his pleasure at not only surprising Meg, but also promoting her.

Meg opened her mouth to speak, but no words emerged. Thank you didn’t seem nearly enough. Her reality had just exceeded her dreams.

“It was the only way we’d sell,” Allison said to Meg. “I worked with Stan most of our lives. It’s what’s made TBC succeed, as well as our marriage. We thought, it’d be a perfect match. You two taking over from us.”

A pang of guilt ripped through Meg. Her relationship with Cole wasn’t even close to what Stan and Allison had.

“Thank you,” Meg said, and lifted her champagne glass into the air. She eyed Cole. “I accept.”

“Cheers!” Four glasses clinked in unison and everyone drank.

Her heart pounded not only from the excitement of her promotion but with the intent of Cole’s gaze. There was a hunger in his eyes that she’d seen frequently the last two days. He looked as though he’d devour her. Here, now, in front of Allison and Stan. Meg’s fingers danced across her collarbone in an attempt to calm her fluttery nerves. Cole’s pupils dilated and he didn’t stop staring.

“What is it?” Meg’s voice trembled, barely above a whisper. Her vision grew myopic as Cole filled her view. Allison and Stan fell away from her peripheral vision, and all she saw—all she focused on—was Cole.

“I’m exceptionally pleased,” Cole said. “With the outcome of tonight.”

His gaze held more than just pleasure over a business deal. His gaze held her unspoken fears and questions she couldn’t answer. “And I feel there is only one way to show you my pleasure.”

This time Cole’s lips were familiar. His kiss was lighter and yet her body burst into flame as if an internal fire waited in repose for his touch. She fought the urge to press against him, to wrap her hands into his hair and pull him even tighter to her. She wanted only to arch her hips to him, open her mouth, let him peel away the thin layer of clothes separating them.

But this kiss was business. Allison and Stan remained in the room. As his lips pulled away, his eyelids dropped.

“Congratulations, Meggy,” Cole said in the most intimate of tones. “It’s a helluva deal.”

She bit her bottom lip and wished his kiss had been more than just the celebratory charade for the closure of a deal. She wanted his kiss to be true. To be earnest. Forget the deal. Forget her safety and even security. She wanted him to plant his lips upon hers again. She wanted Cole to lift her into his arms and carry her off to some bed, or table, or couch, anywhere that she might be horizontal and in his arms. She wanted to be kissed and passionately so.

Stan cleared his throat. “Well done.”

Embarrassed, Meg looked past Cole to the Mortons standing across from them and smiling.

“I do believe it is time for everyone to go home,” Allison said. She cocked an eyebrow at Meg, as if to say, Take that fine specimen of man you’ve got and get yourself a room.

If only it were as simple as Allison believed. As simple as she and Cole had led the Mortons to believe. But it wasn’t. Once she stepped out of this house, past the front door, she was like Cinderella as the clock struck twelve. She’d turn back into little Meggy without a prince. A promotion, to be sure—a promotion that exceeded even her own dreams. But beyond that?

Cole kissed Allison on both cheeks, thanking her for a wonderful night. He then shook hands with Stan.

Allison clasped both of Meg’s hands and pulled her close. “Don’t ever forget, dear, men like ours don’t love often, but when they do? They love with all they have.”

Meg nodded and her eyes filled with tears. She forced a smile to her face. If Allison only knew how far from love she and Cole actually were. This hoax was merely a creation of Cole’s mind. How lucky for him that he could exploit the feelings Meg really had. It all seemed so real, looked so true, but sadly, this game would soon come to an end.

Chapter Thirteen

Manuel had set the lights low and left the fire burning. He even laid out a silver tray with berries and a bucket with a bottle of champagne. The surf hitting the shoreline beat out the only sound in Casa del Mar.

“You’ve called business affairs?” Meg asked. “So that legal can get started on the contracts?”

So much for celebrations. The biggest night of her life and a hollowness lay thick and dark within her gut.

“No,” Cole said, his voice raspy like fine-grain sandpaper on wood.

Meg’s heart quickened. He stood just behind her and the heat of his presence caused the hairs on her neck to rise. She needed space to quell her unsettled feelings for Cole. She walked the edge of what was safe and secure while here in Costa Rica.

“I’ll do it,” Meg said. She needed a reason to flee, a reason to work, a reason to stop thinking about Cole, his touch, his taste, his kiss. She moved toward the study, her high heels clipping across tile.

“Later.” Cole grasped her arm and pulled her back toward him.

Her heart thumped wildly. With his touch desire coursed through her and she couldn’t meet his gaze. Her cheeks flamed red. What was he doing? What more did he want—hadn’t she succeeded in every way?

“Look at me,” Cole said.

An order, but she didn’t wish to comply. Her eyes burned hot with tears of frustration. Frustration over her weakness for Cole.

“I said look at me.” Cole grasped her chin and tilted her face up. She didn’t fight his touch. She bit down on the inside of her check. She was resilient and could fake composure. A deep breath and a toss of the head.
There.
She was Meggy again—silent, strong, organized, and professional.

“You really are something.” Cole held her arm in one hand and her chin in the other.

 “You accomplished in six months what I couldn’t get done in six years.”

“Just lucky, I guess,” Meg said.

“No,” Cole said, and peered at her. His eyes took on a different look. Not just desire, not just hunger, but something deeper. “I am.”

In an instant his lips were on hers. This kiss was unrestrained. This kiss contained all the hunger and heat that the other kiss had promised. The power banked from earlier released into this kiss. The hard planes of Cole’s body pressed against Meg. His scent mixed with the ocean breeze.

 Meg pulled away. “Cole, I closed the deal. This—you don’t have to pretend—”

“Pretend?” Cole pulled his brows tight. “Pretend? If I was this good of an actor I’d have an Academy Award. Who the hell is pretending? You can’t fake this, Meggy, no matter how hard you try.”

Her eyes widened and there was the tiniest gasp just before he captured her lips with his.

A deep shudder trembled through her starting from the inside and working its way outward to her entire body. This was real. This passion. This moment. Every bit of it was real.

*

How the hell could he fake these feelings or deny them? Cole had tried and failed. He sent Meg away. He closed himself off. He remained cool. Now his arms pulled her close. He couldn’t free himself of her. Didn’t
want
to free himself of her. Her lips parted, inviting him to taste her. Her tongue teased his, and he deepened their kiss. She responded with a tiny moan and pressed her hips to him.

 He pressed back, pushing himself against her, rubbing into her. His hand raced up her side.

Meg’s hand made a fist in his shirt. Her fingertips danced across his belly. He wanted her. Wanted to please her, to penetrate her. To feel her hot wetness slide against him. Her fingertips slipped into the top of his pants and the head of his cock throbbed in anticipation. He needed to get her out of that damn dress.

In one motion he lifted Meg, never removing his lips from her mouth. The most kissable of mouths. He needed to be inside her, to claim this treasure for himself.

Once in his room, he set her down and slowly unzipped the dress he’d bought her. The dress that drove him wild through dinner. She stood before him as she had on the plane. Only now in black lace and bows. Her gaze met his and Meg’s eyes contained not confusion nor questions, but only desire.

“You’re perfect.”

Her breasts, round and firm, sat high on her chest. She drew shallow breaths. The tiniest pair of black lace panties covered her. He took one step forward and unclasped the front center of her bra. Her breasts sprang free and he wanted to bury himself in them—suck each pretty pink nipple. His hand drifted down the curve of her waist as his lips kissed the tops of her exposed breasts. So much creamy skin. So much to taste, to explore. So much pleasure to give.

His fingertips slipped across the edge of her panties. Another tiny gasp escaped her lips. Gently, he pushed her back onto the bed. She pulled at the buttons of his shirt and then his pants. She pulled his underwear down over his hips and his cock sprang free.

Her hand clasped him and his hips convulsed with her touch. Fire consumed him—he could come this instant. His lips trailed along her breast. His tongue circled the tight pink nipple and gently flicked, then his mouth encased the tight pert pink flesh and sucked. Meg’s hips arched with the touch and he slipped her tiny lace panties over her legs.

“Cole.”

He spread her white thighs. She was slick with desire. His fingertip danced across her hot swollen nub. Her body convulsed with his touch.

“Oh, Cole.”

To hear her say his name encased with passion made him wild, made him want to bury himself deep within her. To claim her. To take her. But this moment was for her—to send her over the edge again and again.

His tongue flicked at the little slick spot between her legs. He settled a hand on each of her hips and let his tongue play across the wet spot. He slid his fingers inside her and she clamped down wanting more.

“Cole, please,” she moaned.

She needn’t ask twice. He slid up above her and pulled his wallet from his pants. He ripped open the foil. As he leaned over, exposed to her, she grasped his cock with both hands.

Fire exploded at the base of his spine as he watched Meg’s tongue flick over him. Paralyzed by desire, she took the condom from him and rolled it over his cock. He had to be in her.

“Meg, look at me.”

He locked onto her eyes. There would be no closed eyes, no distant memories of this moment. They would be in this together—and fully aware.

Her eyes opened and a light so deep, so vulnerable, shone out from her. He paused, almost fearful to take this woman. How could he ever be worthy of her? Meg’s hand snaked through his hair and a small smile played on her lips.

“Cole, I want you…” Her voice trailed off as her hips arched.

He teased her with the head of his cock as he ever so slowly, so gently, entered her. Her hips arched higher wanting more, ready to take all of him.

She was so wet. So hot. His shaft penetrated her and her hips rolled with him. Sheathed within her, the exact place he was meant to be.

Their speed increased and he watched Meg’s eyes grow wide, her pupils dilate as though she saw more than this moment, beyond this, beyond him. He plunged into her, his need growing. Hotter and heavier, his desire took over. He needed to take her, to finish.

Mine! All mine!

An explosion of heat escaped from him as she shuddered and clamped down, drawing him out, pulling more from him, taking everything from him—all that he had to give and more.

Chapter Fourteen

Still caught between morning and her dreams, Meg thrashed at her bed sheets. Inside her dreamscape dozens of pairs of eyes bore into her as she and her mother stood on the brick steps of the Ohio Valley Country Club. White lights and holiday wreaths decorated the colonial brick building. Meg grasped Deanna Parson’s hand and tucked herself behind her mother’s short red plaid skirt.

They shouldn’t have come here. Even at eight Meg knew it.

Shame rolled through Meg as the snow fell softly around them. Phil, the man who came to their house late at night and sometimes on the weekends, hadn’t looked happy to see her or her mom. In fact he hadn’t even said Meg’s name. He’d whispered to the blonde-haired lady beside him as Meg’s mother—slurring her words and spilling her drink—walked up to him. Not long after, the big man with the earpiece had taken hold of her mother’s arm and escorted them out of the country club. He now stood beside them on the front steps.

“Ms. Parson, your cab will be here momentarily,” he said.

“Get your hands off me,” Meg’s mother said, and jerked her arm away. Meg held Deanna’s other hand more tightly, ever more fearful that her mother might slip down the steps.