JustOneTaste (5 page)

Chapter Five

Sarah fell into a gentle sleep while David lay awake, full
of bitter regrets.

I had a business proposition to discuss, but I’ve decided
I’d rather get to know you. Will you consider having a drink with me?

That’s what he could have said back in the elevator, or in
the living room, before Sarah had kissed him and his synapses had fried beyond
all usefulness. He should have taken business off the table the second his
hormones started driving for him. But he hadn’t and now Sarah thought the only
reason he’d slept with her was to save his winery.

It wasn’t so. For two years, Windy Valley had been about the
only thing occupying his mind, but tonight the stress of trying to keep the
place his uncle left him productive had slipped away entirely in the face of
his drive, his need, to be with Sarah. It had been all-encompassing, searing in
its intensity. It had made him forget everything he was supposed to be trying
to achieve. Now the idea of striking a deal with Sarah and her company was
defunct.

No way could he live with the possibility he’d exchanged sex
for a leg up in business. And while that may have been Sarah’s original
intention, her emotional distress didn’t gel with it. She wasn’t as aloof as
she pretended to be. There was a sweetness to her, a vulnerability that called
to David’s natural protective instincts even as the supple lines of her body
fired his libido. Sarah Harrington was a puzzle of intriguing contradictions
David would love to devote a serious block of time to figuring out.

But he doubted Sarah would let him get that close. He’d had
sex with her barely half an hour after meeting her. She thought him an
opportunist and a cad. He supposed she expected him to slink out while she
slept.

David considered it but in the end couldn’t leave her. His
conscience wouldn’t allow it after she’d cried herself to sleep in his arms,
trying in vain to conceal her tears from him. He stared at the entrancing lines
of her neck and shoulder, gilded by the scant illumination of the bedside lamp.
The fine gold strands of her hair surrounded her like a halo that blurred in
David’s vision as he drifted off to sleep.

Sometime later, he awoke with a killer erection that pressed
itself into the curve of Sarah’s lower back. Sarah wiggled her ass, fully aware
of his condition. She reached behind him to grab his buttock, urging him
closer.

David’s heart pounded against her shoulder blade so hard she
had to be able to feel it. He lightly tongued the shell of her ear. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she replied, grinding her butt against David’s taut
cock until it extended to its full size.

Helpless, David slid his hand up her body until it cupped
her small, supple breast. The light flick he gave the flowering tip made it
blossom against his fingers. Damn, but she was perfect. Every inch of her
flawless, ethereally beautiful and earthily sexy at the same time. What in hell
had made her think she had to manipulate any man into bed? She must have a
queue of them begging for a scrap of her company. David was a breath away from
begging now and all she’d done was shift against him.

She lifted her hand from his ass to his head, twining her
fingers through his hair and urging him to face her. “How is it you make me
feel so good?”

Her eyes glittered with acute sorrow in the low light. David
would have done anything to erase it, but he couldn’t explain the spell that
had wound around them any better than she could. He only knew he’d never had
sex this absorbing or this damn
good
, not this soon after meeting
someone. Perhaps never, not even with Melissa.

“Sarah, you make me lose myself completely,” he confessed.
“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

She smiled in understanding. “Sex isn’t enough, is it? The
only reason two people should go to bed together is to make love.”

David’s heart sank and he only wished his happy-go-lucky
dick would do the same. “I know.” With a sigh, he rested his forehead against
her temple. “I think so too but…”

“Yes, but…” she mimicked, pressing her ass back against his
aching erection once more.

David’s hand flexed, tightening its grip on her breast.
“Sarah, if you want me to leave, tell me.”

It killed him to say the words. He hoped to God she didn’t
take him up on the offer.

She tightened her hold on his hair and tilted her face,
offering her lips. “Don’t go. Let’s pretend, David. For a little longer.”

With a groan of surrender, David took her mouth in a savage
invasion. Pretend he was in love with Sarah? No problem. He was already
enamored with everything about her. Love would be the easiest fall in the world
if she was there with him.

His wild kiss provoked a whimper from Sarah and a firming of
the sweet crest he still cupped in his hand. David took it between thumb and
forefinger, lightly pinching the flesh until it grew pointy and tight. Earlier,
he’d loved Sarah telling him how to suck her nipples, but this time he needed
no instruction. He flipped her onto her back, lowering his head to take the
abused peak into his mouth. Sarah arched, encouraging him with her mewling
noises of pleasure while David licked and sucked both her turgid nipples,
lavishing them with attention until Sarah was once again gripping his hair, lifting
him off her and up onto her waiting, ravenous mouth.

Her kiss had seduced him from the first electric touch of
her warm lips. Its effect on him was stronger now, engulfing him in heat and a
need edgier than any he’d ever known. David reached for the stash of condoms
and hastened through the process of donning one. He had to be inside her
heavenly body again. He had to.

Sarah opened to him immediately, tilting her hips to invite
his swift entry. Gasping, she clung to him, her nails digging into his ass as
he rocked into her. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, how much this
meant to him. But he stifled the confessions, afraid she wouldn’t believe him
after the way this night had started out. Instead, David showed her with
actions, the slow plunge of his body in and out of hers. He gave her complete
access to his swirling emotions as he stared deep into her eyes and drove her
steadily toward bliss.

When the first gasp burst from her mouth, David gripped her
hair, holding her head against the pillow. “Look at me. I need to see your eyes
when you come.”

Doing as he bid, Sarah held his gaze, the blue clouding over
with the force of her long, undulating orgasm. Her thighs clamped around his
waist, her body thrashing against his as she pulsed around his cock, performing
a torturous clutch and release that almost made him lose it. By sheer
obstinacy, this time David made certain she was replete, that every last drop
of ecstasy had been eked from her body before he let himself go. Just as he’d
done, Sarah held David’s face in her hands and compelled him to stare at her
while he shot powerful jets of cum from his dick, while he gave all of himself.

When his body finally sagged, Sarah whispered, “David,” his
name a sigh of wistful exhaustion that gripped his heart tight, as tight as her
body still gripped his. It was so good, so
right
to be inside her,
surrounded by her smooth skin and her heady, feminine scent. As if he’d found
something he hadn’t even known he’d been searching his whole life for.

He was going to have to let her go, in every way, the second
she was done with him. Maybe in the morning. Perhaps long before dawn broke.

But he had no idea how he was going to manage it.

* * * * *

Mornings could be truly horrible, Sarah reflected as she
watched the gray light of dawn creep into the opulent hotel room. This one
could be one of the most horrendous she’d faced in a long time—or the best,
depending on how things went.

She’d slipped out of bed while it was still dark and ordered
up coffee with a tray of Danishes. Not her usual healthy fare of muesli and
yogurt but she wanted to get something David might like too. They’d both worked
up quite an appetite over the past ten hours.

The memory made her grin like a schoolgirl, despite her
anxiety over how this morning-after scene was going to play out. Sarah couldn’t
remember ever being that insatiable with a man. Nor could she recall any of her
previous lovers satisfying her as thoroughly, over and over, as David had last
night. Every time she’d reached for him he’d been there with her, hard and
ready, full of passion and gentle laughter and sweet, sweet words. She’d
climaxed so many times she’d lost count.

Giving all that up after only one night was too horrible to
contemplate.

Sarah’s gaze strayed to the open bedroom door. David lay
sleeping peacefully, his arms flung over his head so her view of that
magnificent chest was unobstructed. The white sheet was twisted at his waist
but Sarah knew what it concealed. Her groin stirred with warmth, her inner
walls convulsing with needs that should have been well quenched but weren’t.
Not yet.

Her decision solidified in her mind. She had to go through
with it—she’d be crazy not to. She’d offer David a deal. She’d gladly pay
double—heck, triple—what she’d outlaid for last night to have it all again,
whenever he was available.

Sarah pushed aside the niggle of unease that tried to knock
down her perfectly pragmatic solution to the problem of her fast-developed
David addiction. She’d heard of other women who kept lovers with the promise of
money or gifts. She’d always blanched at the idea of becoming one of those
people, viewing it as a sad relinquishing of the dream she was loath to let go
of—the dream of true love. A man who appreciated her for herself, not for her
money. A partner in life, not a boy toy.

Now she had to eat crow at the judgmental thoughts she’d had
in regard to others’ choices. Her options were clear. She either made David a
kept man or she let him go forever, perhaps never knowing again the kind of
all-consuming satisfaction she’d found in his arms.

The second option was the least palatable. In fact it filled
her with dread and a deep sense of loneliness she didn’t want to face or
examine. Better to take what she needed—or purchase it, as the case may be.
Whatever it took to stave off the bitter sense of isolation.

She thought of waking David to make the offer but realized
it might need to go through the agent she’d spoken to earlier in the week.
Mentally donning her business cap, Sarah found her cell phone and switched it
on. She’d powered it down last night, not wanting her evening to be interrupted
by an ill-timed call from work.

There were two messages on her phone. Sarah was surprised to
find they were both from Kendra, David’s…

Face it, Sarah, she’s his pimp.

The first was a harried explanation about an accident and a
promise of more detail to come. The second provided that detail.

My deepest apologies, Miss Harris. I can’t tell you how
sorry I am that David can’t make his appointment, but he’s going to need
surgery on his leg. Too bad he isn’t a better skier, yes? I will make full
reparations of course. I have several fine choices who can make themselves
available from tomorrow onwards, or I can arrange a full refund. Call me to let
me know what you’d like to do.

Sarah sat on the couch, the phone pressed to her ear long
after the message had ended. Her heart started a sickening gallop and a bitter
taste filled her mouth. Kendra had been certain David wasn’t going to make his
date with her. Of course he hadn’t made it—he was in surgery.

Ice infused her bloodstream as reality set in. If her escort
hadn’t shown up last night…

Who the hell was the man in her bed?

Chapter Six

“David Genero.”

The wintery tone of Sarah’s voice roused David from the kind
of dream he hated to be dragged away from. He was at home at Windy Valley. It
was a cold night but the fire was warm, the room bathed in its orange glow.
Sarah was with him, naked beneath a blanket. Her smile was a thing of beauty,
her laugh a melodious sound that wrapped around him as he kissed her neck. Her
laughter turned to sighs as he began to move lower…

“David Genero,” Sarah repeated, her voice like a glacier,
yanking him from the warmth of the fantasy he’d created. Something made a
thwack
as it landed on the pillow beside him. David opened one eye to see his wallet
lying open, his driver’s license showing. “Owner of Windy Valley Winery.”

David rose to put his weight on his elbows and stare
blearily at her. Her posture was rigid, her expression holding none of the
engaging amusement or sexy teasing it had last night. She wore a pale silk robe
that outlined the clearly naked curves beneath it. David’s body responded even
as her obvious anger perplexed him. “Sarah?”

“Oh, you know who I am, that much isn’t in question. What
mystifies me is why you didn’t admit who you were or what you really wanted
from me.”

Sitting up, David pressed the heel of his hand to one
eyelid. He usually rose more aware at first light but Sarah’s accusatory tone
had thrown him for a loop. “I thought I made you well aware of what I wanted
last night. What’s this about?”

“Business, apparently.” Bitterness laced the retort. “Your
winery. I googled you, found your picture on your website. When I first
realized you weren’t who I thought you were, I figured it was a case of
mistaken identity. But you owned a winery, it was too much of a coincidence.
The two of us meeting by accident just doesn’t make sense.”

A lot of what happened in the preceding hours made little
sense, but in a good way. This development probably wasn’t headed in that
direction. “I never said I met you by accident. I came here to see you—you know
that.”

“No. David Genero the wine producer I was not expecting. I
thought you were somebody else and you know it.
How
did you know that
I’d…”

He jumped in when she hesitated. “You’d what?”

“Arranged a date. That a man was to meet me here at the
hotel.”

“Sarah, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You pretended to be him—my date. All so you could… What are
you planning to do? Blackmail me?”

“Hang on one damn minute. Blackmail? What kind of crazy soap
opera plot do you think this is?”

Dropping his feet over the side of the mattress, David shot
out of bed. The way Sarah’s gaze flashed over his body reminded him he was
nude, his cock semirigid from the dream she’d interrupted. He’d rather not get
dressed. Continuing the activities they’d devoted half the night to would be
the preferable outcome, but it was pretty obvious that wasn’t going to happen.
David found his boxers on the floor and slipped them on.

“Sarah, give me a break. I just woke up and I have no idea
why you’re being like this.”

“It’s a mystery why I’m annoyed that you pretended to be
someone you weren’t?”

“I
didn’t
. You know who I am, I’m David.”

“David
Genero
. Not David…” She frowned, making David
wonder if she even had this other David’s last name. She can’t have met him
before, if she’d assumed he was him.

“Were you supposed to be on some kind of blind date?” The
notion was downright ridiculous. A woman as desirable as Sarah didn’t need to
be set up.

“I don’t know why this was easier to accept when I thought
you’d screwed me for money.” She muttered the words almost to herself, running
her hands up and down her arms as if she were cold. “But at least then I
understood what was going on. This is so sinister and deceitful, so
vile
.”
She aimed a glare at him, emphasizing that last descriptor.

David took offense, his confusion morphing into irritation.
“I didn’t screw you for money. I’d never do that.”

“No, but you’d do it to sell more of your wine. And perhaps
a little extra on the side to keep quiet about Sarah Harrington’s bedroom
activities, the fact she had to pay someone just to get laid. That’d be a juicy
tidbit for the papers, wouldn’t it?”

A coldness swept over David, his body finally responding to
the chill in Sarah’s voice, the contemptuous accusations. It numbed him, the
cold, made his voice sound as though it came from far away. And to think he
hadn’t been able to picture her reduced to going on a simple blind date. “Sarah,
did you hire a…male prostitute?”

She tilted her chin. “I believe the preferred term is
escort.”

David stared at her, grappling with the concept. “Dear God,
why?”

“I should think that’s obvious,” she seethed. “Not that it’s
any of your business.”

David couldn’t stifle the humorless laugh that barked from
his mouth. “You thought
I
was him?”

Oh, that was priceless. Him, a paid stud? She had to be
kidding. He was an average Joe…or average Dave as the case may be. Guys at his
station in life might occasionally pay for it—not that David ever had—but never
the other way around.

“You’re laughing at me?” Her query was flat, stripped of all
emotion. David wasn’t fooled. She crossed her arms over her chest, her
shoulders hunching, her body virtually curling in on herself. She took a few
steps backward and it was that retreat that told David he’d hurt her
immeasurably.

“Not at you—at me,” he explained. “The thought of me doing
that.”

Of any woman, especially one as stunning as Sarah, paying
him for his expertise. What another outrageous idea. He’d jumped her bones like
a drunk footy player on an end-of-season trip. He’d hardly been accomplished or
seductive. Hadn’t she been able to tell he was no expert?

“So you think you’re above it?” She stood straighter, some
of her pride bouncing back. “Tell me how what you did last night is any
different.”

“Last night I met a woman who completely blew my mind.”
David walked toward her, approaching carefully as he might a wounded animal.
Her expression was wary but she didn’t shrug off his touch when he placed his
hands on her arms. The silky fabric of her robe was cool, unwarmed by the flesh
beneath it. She was chilled to the bone. David’s chest ached at the thought.

He continued quietly. “When this woman, this beautiful,
mesmerizing woman, invited me into her bedroom, I couldn’t believe my luck. I
went because she was simply…irresistible. I never thought about the winery, not
after she kissed me. I only thought about her.”

She examined his face carefully, testing the veracity of his
words. Hope breathed to life inside him. If she was issuing a test, David
wanted to pass it. He met her scrutiny, never wavering from it, and let every
one of his emotions shine in his gaze.

“You know me, Sarah. You met me last night, when we laughed over
the champagne and rolled around in bed and when I stared into your eyes when
you came around me, when I came inside you. You know I’d never do what you’re
saying I did. In your heart, you know it.”

Sarah couldn’t believe it. Despite all the evidence pointing
to the fact David was a complete reprobate, her heart
was
buying this
bullshit. It melted inside her chest, growing weak at the emotion thickening
David’s voice and the desperation clear in his demeanor. He needed her to
believe in him, badly, and he wasn’t too guarded to show it.

Of course he needs you to believe him. Your largesse
could mean a lot to his business.

Sarah stiffened her spine and backed away from David. She
ignored the remorse that clutched at her when she saw the way his face fell,
the shine of pain in his eyes. Her chest tightened in response, as if their
hearts were inextricably linked. His pain would always cause her pain and vice
versa.

Absurd.
One night, that was all they’d had. And it
was all they were going to have. David’s anguish was an act. Sarah was only
sorry she couldn’t say the same for her own.

“Get your things.” Sarah was glad her voice didn’t betray
any of her fanciful thoughts about her heart and his being soul mates. “I want
you out of my sight.”

“Sarah…”

“Now!” Her own raised voice shocked her. She rarely had to
shout to get her point across. She hadn’t even shouted at Brent when she’d
found him inside that overeager intern. She’d shut down then, and she wanted to
shut down now. She didn’t want David to know how much last night had affected
her, how stupidly hurt she was that she’d pegged him wrong.

Sarah walked to the window and stared out at the view of
Melbourne. The pink light of the sun was trying to peek through the clouds but
it was a losing battle. It was going to be a rainy, cold day that would turn
the city skyline to a pitiless tableau of concrete and steel. The frostiness of
it reached down to Sarah’s soul as she heard the telltale sounds of David
behind her, the rustle of fabric as he dressed. The mental image of him
disrobing for her last night played in her mind but Sarah blocked it out. She
didn’t even have a nice memory to keep her warm in the lonely nights ahead
because he’d tainted it with deceit.

She was as mad about that as she was about the rest of it.

The door to the suite opened, remained that way as she
sensed David hovering on the threshold. At length he spoke, his voice quiet.
“Do you remember last night when you said we should pretend we were making
love?” The silence throbbed like a heartbeat when Sarah didn’t answer. “I think
I pretended a little too well. I’m going to miss you, Sarah. I hope you find
what you’re looking for.”

The air cooled the second he was gone. The door made a faint
click behind him, like a period marking the end of a sentence.

The end of her foolish escapade.

* * * * *

It wasn’t the end.

How could it be when shame over what a fool she’d made of
herself possessed Sarah’s mind day and night in the ten days that followed?
When she suffered the recurrent worry that there would be a phone call from a
tabloid newspaper, asking her to comment on the story they were about to run.
Sarah
Harrington embroiled in sex-for-cash scandal.
Her father might be in New
York right now but Sarah didn’t kid herself he wouldn’t find out about something
so potentially damaging to the Harrington name. He’d be livid. And she would be
unable to show her face. She’d probably have to quit the company, go somewhere
quiet to lick her wounds. Dye her hair and take up needlepoint.

Actually, that didn’t sound so terrible. Needlepoint might
be relaxing. Living somewhere under an assumed name…oh, that sounded like
heaven on a day like today, when the meetings and the phone calls never came to
an end. It wasn’t labor that troubled her. Sarah had worked diligently from the
time she took her first piano lesson at the age of three, so knuckling down and
getting the job done was second nature.

But the performing, that took its toll on her.

As the key figurehead of Harry’s Nook, and as a Harrington,
Sarah had to project a certain aura, a façade of cool confidence and unruffled
capability. To prove she wasn’t in charge of the chain of wine bars that were a
subsidiary of her father’s conglomerate solely because of her relationship to
him, it was imperative she work twice as hard as anyone else. And as a woman
often required to stare across boardroom tables at an intimidating row of
dark-suited, middle-aged men, Sarah had to act three times as tough as any of
them. If the veneer slipped in any one of those areas, she was toast.

It was
exhausting
.

Yet the one time recently she’d let her guard down and truly
been herself, she’d done it for a man who’d lied to her. The shields were there
for a reason.

“Miss Harrington, your three o’clock is here.”

Sarah glanced up to see her secretary standing in the
doorway, carrying a cup from a local coffee shop that Sarah had discovered did
the best macchiato in the world. Heather traversed the carpeted floor and set
the cup on Sarah’s desk. “I thought you might need one of these.”

“You’re a godsend.” Sarah removed the lid and breathed in
the scent of the strong brew with relish before taking her first sip. “What
would I do without you?”

The woman of around fifty with kind blue eyes and a chic bob
of salt-and-pepper hair, smiled wryly. “I think you’d find someone else to run
out for your macchiato three times a day.”

Sarah returned her smile. “Seriously though. Aren’t you due
for a raise or something?” The woman always anticipated Sarah’s needs before
she herself guessed what they were. That had to be worth a lot more than a base
secretary’s wage.

Heather said, “You pay me very well, Miss Harrington.”

Sarah was embarrassed to realize she had no idea what salary
her employee earned. Shouldn’t she understand more about the woman who’d
bothered to learn exactly how she liked her coffee and scheduled every last one
of her appointments? Shouldn’t they at least be on a first-name basis? “Call me
Sarah, why don’t you?”

Heather’s surprise was obvious, as was her discomfiture.
“Oh, I don’t think I’d be comfortable, Miss Harrington.”

Of course she wouldn’t. Sarah was a Harrington. Harringtons
weren’t on a first-name basis with their employees, it simply wasn’t done.
Sarah’s smile froze in place. Silly to be stung that the woman didn’t want to
become friendlier with her. “Whatever you think is best. Send Mr. Cawley in.”

The secretary slipped out of the office appearing relieved
to escape. Her demeanor bugged Sarah. Was she really that fearsome? Heather had
only worked for her a short while, since Sarah had set up base camp in
Melbourne. Her previous secretary, Bonnie, hadn’t been able to leave the United
States so Sarah had found her another job in the company enabling her to stay
near her family. Prior to that, Bonnie had worked for Sarah for three years.
The day she left she was still calling Sarah “Miss Harrington”.