Instructing an Heiress (12 page)

"And unsatisfied. Let's not forget that," Brad added.

Ryan tore his attention back to his friends. "There is
no Thing
, damn it!"

Pushing to his feet, he yanked his wallet out of his back pocket. Tossing a fifty down on the table, he stalked out of the club before he hit someone.

Ryan paced from one wall to the other as the elevator rocketed to the top floor of Kazners. His eyes felt scratchy from lack of sleep; his temper raw and close to the surface. If he were smart, he'd have stayed home. Too bad for him that where CK was concerned, he didn't seem to be too smart, lately.
 

He tried to get a handle on his emotions as the elevator doors slid open. What if she
had
asked Junior to marry her? She was an adult. She could do what she wanted. Wasn't his business.
 

But, damn it, he had to know. Steve Wayland was no where near the right kind of guy for her. What could he offer beyond business plans and product ideas? She'd be bored within two weeks, if she lasted that long.
 

Ryan plowed across the upper atrium toward the executive offices. The sound of Farley's voice echoed out into the open area.

"You're crazy, Sharon. What about that brunette at Glenda's retirement party? And the blonde from the deli? How about...I'm telling you it's because he's seeing someone....You're just mad you spent all that money on new boobs and didn't—" She paused and covered the handset with her palm when he pushed open the doors to the suite. "You look like hell, boss."

"Don't let anyone disturb us," Ryan snarled as he stalked toward CK's office.

A grin spread over her face. "I'll lock the door and throw away the key."

*
 
*
 
*

CK glanced up from the report she was reading and narrowed her eyes at the embossed envelope sitting on the corner of her desk. Every time she looked at it, a feeling of impending doom churned in her stomach. Her grandfather was up to something and her instincts told her it wasn't anything she'd like.
 

She turned back to her work and caught herself reading the same paragraph for the third time. With a sigh, she closed the report.

A lot of things were making it hard to concentrate. The events of last night, for one. She'd sincerely enjoyed spending time with Steve and had discovered that they had a lot in common. They both grew up as privileged only children, were sent to the best schools and ultimately trained to take over their family businesses. They also shared a sense of loneliness and isolation and were just beginning to discover how to change that.
 

Other than that one year at state college, she'd never allowed herself to even think about what she wanted. Hearing Steve's story of self-discovery made her question that.
 

Although, her hands were tied where the Captain's orders were concerned, she didn't have to go quietly into the night. Right now, before she made a commitment, she could create some experiences just for her. She could find her moments of joy. She just had to go searching for them.

The corner of her mouth lifted. It was hard to imagine that she was considering rebellion, yet she was. She didn't know when or with whom, but she'd already taken the first steps. The unfolding was only a matter of time. CK touched the frothy, lace collar of her new Christian Dior blouse.

All thanks to Ryan.

The envelope on the desk drew her eye, again, and her pleasure dimmed. Thanks to the Captain's ultimatum, she had less than a month to make memories, but at least it was something.
 

Picking up the envelope, she tapped it against her palm. Unless he already made other plans. The Kazners charity ball was never held at the mansion. What new surprises did her grandfather have up his sleeve, for her? She didn't feel the least bit inclined to be cheated of her chance for adventure.

Resolving to investigate, she reached for the phone. If Winston wouldn't tell her, then she'd demand a meeting with the Captain. One way or the other, she would get to the bottom of this.

Her office door banged open and CK jumped, giving a startled squeak.
 

Ryan slammed the door behind him and stormed across her carpet, autumn-blue eyes blazing. "You can't trust him," he said, bearing down on her like an avenging angel.

He must have heard about the change of plans for the charity ball, CK realized.
 

"Don't barge in here like that, and yes, I don't believe we can trust him." She held the invitation out to Ryan. "For the record, I'm still mad at you, but I think we should go out to the house and find out what's going on."

He snatched the envelope from her and shot it like a frisbee across the room.
 

"What has gotten into you?" she grumbled.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he scrutinized her. His scent, like mountain pine and sun-filled meadows, entwined around her and a flush of excitement skimmed over her body.

"Did he kiss you?" he growled.

She watched him cautiously. "The Captain?"
 

"After he took you home last night, did he try to kiss you?"

"Last night...?" Understanding dawned and her unanticipated reaction dropped to zero, cooling her off quicker than an icy shower.
 

"What Steve and I did is none of your business," she said, primly, feeling like an idiot for letting the smell of a man's soap turn her brain instantly to mush. She picked up her abandoned report and pretended to read.

"You're paying me to make it my business." Ryan yanked the folder out of her grip and tossed the report in the general direction of the abused invitation.

"Hey!"

Flattening his palms in the center of her desk, he leaned in. "Answer the question."

CK bristled. His constant bullying was becoming very tedious. It would be a cold day in hell before Anderson dragged Steve's secret out of her.

"I refuse to relate any personal details of my evening to you."
 

"Damn it, CK." His eyes turned stormy. "You slept with him, didn't you? Without consulting me."

"What?" Her temper flared, hot and sharp. "If I won't tell you if he kissed me, I certainly will not tell you if—"

"You might have ruined everything. There are ways to do these things. Ways that are my job to manage. Section two, paragraph six requires that I be consulted regarding all potential candidates who—"

"I did not sleep with him," she cut in, tightly.

His gaze sharpened as if he knew she held something back.

"We talked! Nothing else," she protested.
 

Straightening up, he slashed his forefinger through the air. "Strike him off the list."

"Because he didn't maul me at my front door?"
 

"Shows lack of serious interest."
 

"That is not your call to make!"

"He's boring, rigid—"

"Kind. Intelligent. A wonderful dancer."

"A snob. You deserve better."

She pushed herself to her feet and faced off with him across her computer. "He's respectful. In my opinion that's essential to a good match. Respect and consideration. Two traits you have not possessed, lately. Get out of my office."

"Respect is fine, as far as it goes." He leaned toward her, again, and that cursed scent of his weakened her angry resolve. "But it's passion that gets the job done."

The memory of that brief moment when his lips touched hers sent a hot flash racing through her nervous system. Clearing her throat, she took a step back. What was wrong with her? This was Ryan. A grumpy, obnoxious Ryan, but her friend, nevertheless.

"You definitely have not had your coffee," she said, her voice shaky.

He prowled around the edge of the desk and stopped within inches of her. She could feel his heat pressing against her breasts and stomach, sending a liquid flush over her body.
 

She pulled in a deep breath to calm herself and her nipples brushed against his chest. A tingling fire flared from the contact and shot straight down to her core. Disconcerted, she tried to step away from him, but he grasped her shoulders and gave her a light shake.

"You deserve passion in your life, CK. Don't you want that for yourself?"
 

Her heart rate kicked up another notch, fluttering in her throat like a trapped butterfly. He was standing so close. "I'm sure whoever I find will work his way up to it."

"You don't work your way up to passion. It's either there, or it isn't." His eyes blazed down at her; a clear, hot blue full of promises that struck a chord deep inside her. "Have you ever been kissed?"

"Don't be stupid," she sputtered. "Of course I have."
Once or twice.
 

He leaned closer, pressing flat, hard muscles against her breasts. "I mean..." Beneath the civilized veneer of pine and meadows, a primitive, smokey scent vibrated around her; purely male and spiked with danger. "...
really
kissed."

She drew back in alarm. "Anderson, this is not in our...contract and I refuse to be...molested by—"

He pulled her flush against him. She brought her hands up, intending to push him away. Instead, her palms were crushed against the powerful contours of his chest and the fever of him spilled into her, stealing her breath.

"Rules don't apply when there's passion." He slid one muscled arm around her waist and CK's legs trembled. "When a man gets near the woman he wants, he can't think."

His mouth drifted down toward hers. "He can't breathe." His other hand stroked up her arm, and then cupped her face gently. "All he knows is that her hair smells like flowers. That he loves the way her hips move when she walks away from him. That her stubbornness makes him crazy."
 

He stroked his thumb over her cheek. "All he can think about is how it'll feel when he finally kisses her."
 

Her attention locked onto the sensual curves of his mouth as he slowly, so slowly, brought his face closer to hers. "I...I thought you said he couldn't think," she whispered, making a weak attempt to maintain control of herself.

Ryan's breath skated across her mouth in a light caress. "He also wonders," he said, his voice husky, "will she turn soft for him as he touches her? Will her passion be as wild and unpredictable as her temper?"
   

He brushed his mouth lightly over hers. Yearning swept through CK like a sun-warmed wind. Her eyelids grew heavy and a delicious, languid feeling melted into her body.

"Will she let him kiss her until she can't say 'no' anymore?" Ryan whispered against her mouth.
 

He pulled her closer, filling her senses with the contours of his hard, male body and the thick ridge pressing heavily against her mound.

His tongue caressed the seam of her lips and she opened to him, welcoming the gentle thrust of his exploration as waves of pleasure turned her blood into liquid light. The need for him burned all protest to dust and CK slid her hands up and locked them around his neck.
 

Hunger thundered through her and she knew she wanted him. Wanted him more than she'd ever wanted anything in her life.

Ryan swept her up into his arms and strode toward the couch and she made no objection. Instead, she kissed the strong column of his throat as her hands feverishly worked to loosen his tie.

She didn't understand what was happening between them. She only knew she desperately needed him. She always had. She couldn't lie to herself about that anymore.
 

*
 
*
 
*

Her body felt warm and soft and delicious against him. Ryan laid CK gently on the oversized couch, capturing her mouth again, as he slid his arms out from under her.

He lifted his head and she gazed up at him, her face soft with longing. Brushing her thick auburn hair back from her neck, he unbuttoned the first two buttons of the frilly, delicate blouse she wore. As he spread the edges wide, his wrist brushed across the round abundance of her breasts where they swelled above the lace of her bra.
 

His erection expanded, pressing hot and hard against his zipper, urging him on. He ignored it. A quick, round of gratification was enough for the women he usually met, but not for CK.

Never with CK.

An unfamiliar twinge of guilt touched him and he hesitated. She'd been his friend for a long time. Having sex would ruin that relationship. How could it not?
 

Yet, his hunger for her raged like a ravenous force that ran deeper than anything he'd ever felt before. It wouldn't be denied and he couldn't lie to himself about it, anymore. He couldn't pretend this was something it wasn't, either.

He could never love her the way she deserved. There'd be no promises from him, no happy ending. She had to know that, yet she gazed up at him with a longing that matched his own.
 

But was it worth jeopardizing their friendship?

She shifted, making her soft skin slide under his hand in achingly tempting ways. "Ryan, what's wrong?" Worry flickered through her lavender eyes.
 

"We shouldn't do this."

She glanced away and her cheeks turned pink. "I know."

He took his hand off her, making his whole body scream in protest. "I'm sorry."

Her gaze locked with his and her full mouth pressed into an obstinate line. "No. I want this memory to be you." Her fingers flicked down the short line of buttons on her blouse.
 

Alarm sharpened the ache of loss in his chest. "CK, stop. I can't be that strong. Even for you."

She pulled the material open, revealing the firm, smooth mounds of her breasts encased in delicate lace. As his gaze tracked over them and across the curve of her waist and softly flowing plane of her bare stomach, a rush of desire shot from his groin to his brain. His thoughts disintegrated and refocused as a desperate desire for her crashed over him.
 

Moaning low in his throat, Ryan rocked back on his heels. "We can't."