Microsoft Word - FortunesFool.rtf (13 page)

She got a perverse satisfaction in the shock on his face. Good, let

him have to rethink his assumptions of her.

He didn't reach out to take it. "I gave that to you for your insightful reading."

"As well as that may be, I feel the need to return it."

"I refuse to accept."

She glared at him. "I'm a charity case if you remember." Her

curiosity was quickly turning to anger. What infuriated her more was that sparring with him didn't diminish her desire. If anything it heightened it.

"All the more reason for you to keep it."

Her mouth dropped open and she gasped. "I insist on returning it to you."

"No." He crossed his arms over his chest.

There was a sharp rap at the door.

"Yes!"

Mr. Frist's head appeared as if disembodied. "Your meeting, sir."

"I'm in negotiations, Frist."

"Yes, sir, but your appointment is here. I settled them in the-"

"In a moment, Frist."

"Yes, sir." He pulled his turtle head back and closed the door.

Mr. Dupree focused his burning glare on her and she thought for a

moment she could still slip out the door after Frist, but he held her

pinned with his gaze.

Why wouldn't he just let her do this? "Mr. Dupree—"

"You may call me Caden."

She sniffed. If vipers could grin, they would look like him.

"It's polite to return the invitation."

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Her chin lifted. She knew he was playing her by insulting her

manners but decided to see where he was leading. "You may call me

Miss Drummond."

His eyes flared, and she stepped back. "The other night you had

some interesting things to say about my life."

Her stomach flipped. Exactly the conversation she was hoping not

to have. But she followed suit, didn't she? Thankfully she was prepared.

"And?" She folded her arms.

"And I would like to hear more about what you see in my palm. I'll

pay you another five dollars, and you may tell your mother that you gave me a longer reading and earned the money."

That was not what she expected at all. She thought he would take

his opportunity to take advantage of her spontaneous stupidity in teasing him inappropriately. She prepared herself to be yelled at. He might have ranted and raved, but him enticing her, asking for her to seduce him

again…

Her heart sunk, and she examined her dull black boots. Once he

heard her reasoning he would never want to see her again anyway, which

for some reason made her sad. She found him intriguing, not scary at all, although she did underestimate him. She took a deep breath. "I'm giving the money back because I took advantage of you."

He looked shocked. And she was sure that didn't occur often.

"How did you take advantage of me?"

This was absurd. The man was an arrogant, rude snob making her

explain. Why couldn't he just accept the money and her apology and be

done with it? She wriggled like a worm on a hook, but in the end what

she had done was unethical, and he deserved his answer. Anyway, she

needed to be honest. Not for him, but for herself. For her mother, who

though peculiar, had an ironclad morality pertaining to her and her

daughter's abilities. It didn't mean that she had to like it, though.

"I used the reading to take advantage of you."

"I understand that. How did you take advantage of me?"

She blushed and swallowed feeling like she had sand in her throat.

"Your sexual reading."

She peeked up from under the rim of her hat to see his eyes had

darkened. His anger she could deal with. His desire was even more

powerful. It provoked an even more elemental reaction in her. The one

that made her masturbate last night. A reaction she didn't want him to

see. "You made me mad when you called me a charity case. I used your 89

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hand to embarrass you. That was against my ethics as a reader. My

mother doesn't know. My sister saw you give me the money.

"And what did your sister say?"

Abby shook her head. "She's young, she doesn't understand."

"Fine, I'll take your five dollars back. But I want you to give me

another reading, right now." He walked behind his desk and swiveled the lamp towards her.

"But…you have an appointment."

"He can wait, believe me." He sat down and put his hand, palm up, under the light of the lamp.

It would be the end then. She would give him one more reading, and

when she walked out her conscious would be clear. But her desire would

become unbearable.

Not seeing him ever again would be a good thing, too, because he

had set all of her senses on fire. For the past few days just the idea that he might be walking down the street and she would glimpse him made her

heart pound faster.

And now, of all things he wanted her to do a reading for him.

A shiver ran through her knowing she would have his hand in hers

again. It had never happened before, but when she read his hands her

skin felt as if his touch were burning her like hot sugar. Stroking his

palms made her want him to return the caresses and much more.

Especially now that she knew under the gruffness there was a sterling

heart.

She scooted forward and closed her eyes for a moment centering

herself before reading. Her breathing calmed but as she reached out to

take his hand her heart started to hammer.

It took a few moments, but when she finally thought she had herself

under control she opened her eyes to see his green ones burning into her.

She made the wrong decision. She should have run out after Frist

left.

* * * *

funny that she came to return the money. Anyone else would have kept

it, no matter if they took advantage of him or not. People liked to assume that he used hundreds for handkerchiefs.

She took his hand into hers, and again all the blood in his body

flowed south.

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Her hair was different today. Looser. It pillowed around her face,

and soft ringlets curled at her nape.

She tugged his fingers down and smoothed his palm. Each time she

drew a finger down he got harder.

"Funny, you're a banker and your hand says that you're good with

money." Her voice was rough and low, catching on words.

"That's good, then."

"You're very reliable. You love details." She dragged her fingertip down the length of his middle finger, and he shifted in his seat. "Your knuckles are wrinkled and apparent. You like to analyze things. You

penetrate situations deeply with logic and thought. All of your traits

make you a good banker."

"I want the other reading."

She met his eyes over their hands, a question on her face.

"The other reading. Like the party. A sexual reading."

She broke their gaze and glanced behind her.

"If I do this, you'll never ask me to do another? You'll take your

money back and never speak to anyone about this?"

"I promise."

She studied him and took a deep breath. "You have a long thumb.

That means you have an abundance of sexual energy and a forceful

personality."

"You told me that already. Tell me something I don't know."

She bent his fingers back towards her and studied his lines, tracing

them with her fingers. "You have many whorls. That means you are an original thinker and that you don't like listening to rules. You're sexually adventurous."

He thought she would have left by now, that he would have scared

her away, but she sat there knowing what he was doing, and her strength

made him respect her. And want her more than he did before. But he

wanted more out of her, he needed to know that she wouldn't back down

from him. He wanted an equal partner in all things, in and out of the

bedroom.

"Would you like to be sexually adventurous?"

"Mr. Dupree, I have to finish."

Could he tell her now that he wanted to hear her yell his name while

she came? "I asked you to call me Caden."

"Mr. Dupree—"

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"You're giving me a sexual hand reading and you're calling me Mr.

Dupree?" Damn. He should have spoken less forcefully.

Her mouth hardened into a line then she huffed and rolled her eyes.

"Caden…"

"See, that wasn't so hard."

She pulled his hand closer to her and dragged a finger down the

outside of his palm, sending shudders through his stomach. "Your union line is broken and faint. You've had a relationship but it was not a lasting one, and it didn't mean that much to you."

He sat back in his chair but left his hand in hers. His friends knew

about Beatrice, but with Abby not moving in his circles, she couldn't

have known. Or could she?

She traced his pinky up and over the tip, back down to its web with

a feather touch, and his erection strained his pants, "You have a long Mercury finger," her voice dropped lower, "and that coupled with your large Mount of Venus means that you are a good lover. Mercury is your

communication finger and you can't be a good lover without

communicating. Yours also curves toward your Apollo finger which can

mean that you're seductive."

With that he pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed, lingering his

lips against her warm skin as he tasted her palm.

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Abby closed her eyes at his hot breath on her open hand. Passion

rushed through her body, pooling between her legs and making his every

breath a whisper stroke against her skin.

With his lips hovering over her, his tongue brushed her, and her

breath caught in her throat. All at once his tongue was wet and dry, hot at first, then cool as his breath hit the moisture. A moan slipped out, and she looked at the back of his head over her hand, his soft hair with no

lacquer.

He still held her hand as he walked around the desk, and pulled her

up to him, pressing her against him. The heat in her sex grew to a tight pull, and she leaned in.

He ran his hands up her back and cradled her head as he brought his

lips down on hers, sweeping his tongue into her shocked mouth, then

teasing with nibbles and dips. Her stomach tightened and anticipation

gathered.

Her body seemed as if it were on fire, sizzles jumping over her skin,

and she slid her hands around his neck to draw him closer to her. She

wanted him inside her, her reactions to his touches after her fantasy

being too explosive to control. Even if she could, she didn't want to.

He kissed her again, his desire callous and raw. She arched her hips

and met his erection with passion of her own, not believing the moment

even as she did. He groaned into her mouth and let her head go, instead

running his hands up her waist to the underside of her breasts, trying to cup them through her corset.

"So passionate," he murmured into her hair.

She couldn't think, her mind was flooded by his touches, by his

tongue nipping and kissing her neck, under her ear. She wanted him, too, his skin under her hands and liquid, the way she felt.

"What can we do?" she said, hanging her head back so he could kiss it more.

"Whatever you want to do."

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"I want my hands on you, on your skin."

He bumped his erection against her and groaned, then walked her

backwards, never breaking contact, holding her steady, until they reached the door. He leaned her against the hard oak, with one hand caressing

her, while he licked and sucked, and with the other he slid the bolt.

As the lock clicked she shivered. At being in the room alone with

him, and with knowing what would happen while they were there. That

she wanted it just as much as he did, and she had no care where they

were.She didn't know what brought her to this decision. Yes she did. The last man promised her marriage, but his time she didn't know what

overwhelmed her senses, she wanted him with a matched intensity. And

she knew he was different than he made himself out to be. Especially

what she saw outside the office door. In his hands were her answers. Not many times before had she so truly believed in what she read. Even

though his persona belied what she saw, his actions, his strength, his

generosity—they were the truth of him, and that was the Caden she

wanted.

There were other things in his hands that she didn't tell him about.

Not that she believed all of it herself. But if it were to be fully realized, then his pain and his depth ran deeper than he showed. He'd overcome

them, making his character stronger than most. She wanted to touch that

part of him. She wanted to know the pain and hurt that shaped him. Not

for pity, but for pride. He had his own morals, and they were chiseled in the trials of his life. She was willing to chance that this once, the truth lay in what she read.

She cupped her hands on either side of his face and kissed her desire

and yielding, not just to him, but to the wanting within her. He pushed

her harder against the door, pinning her with his body and hands. The

mitered oak panels stiff behind her, holding her up.

With a low rumble he pulled away and, grabbing two handfuls of

her chemise, petticoats and skirt, started to lift, bunching it at her sides and reaching underneath. He yanked, popping the buttons on her hips,