Millionaire in a Stetson (15 page)

Other than the small kiss on her blistered palm, he hadn’t made any romantic moves over dinner. But it might as well have been an all-out seduction for how she was feeling. She was edgy, alert, aroused. She wanted to cling to him like she had at the waterfall, have him run his hands over her like he had at the dance. She wanted to lose herself in the passion that she knew could rise between them.

He opened the suite door, letting her go in first.

A few steps in, she turned. The door swung shut and the latch clicked into place. She made up her mind to give in to her desire.

“Thank you, Sawyer,” she told him, stepping forward, snaking her arms around his neck, closing her eyes and lifting her lips for a kiss.

“Nellie.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. It felt like he was pushing her away. And he didn’t kiss her.

Her eyes popped open. “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong.” But his expression was tense, and he didn’t move, didn’t close the gap between them.

She swiftly catalogued the possible reasons. “I’m asking you to kiss me,” she assured him.

“It’s not that.”

She didn’t understand. Or maybe she did. A wash of unease settled into her stomach, embarrassment taking hold of her brain. She dropped her arms, stepping back, glancing away.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I misjudged.”

“Nellie, it’s not—”

“No, no.” She held up her palm. “No need to apologize. I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position.”

“This is new,” he explained.

“Yeah. Sure.” Kissing a woman had to be totally new for him. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

“We barely know each other.”

“Obviously, we don’t.”

“I don’t want to—”

She shot him a sharp glare. “You’re making it worse.”

He clamped his jaw shut.

“I’ll get my clothes.”

She turned away and heard him curse behind her.

The next second, his hand was on her arm. He was spinning her around, and his mouth came down on hers, wide-open, instantly carnal.

The kiss went on and on, tension and frustration radiating from his body, his muscles stiff, his fists clenched, his lips firm and demanding.

She reveled in the raw sensuality. She didn’t know why he’d held back, and she didn’t really care. He’d given in now, and her body welcomed his strength, his purpose, his passion.

But then everything changed. His lips went soft. His kisses turned tender. His body enfolded hers, and his hands stroked her hair, cradling her face. He kissed her sweetly and thoroughly.

Moments later, he swept her up into his arms, cradling her. His sizzling gaze locked with hers as he carried her into the bedroom.

When he set her down, he quickly shrugged out of his jacket. Impatient, she plucked at his tie, loosening the knot, dragging the tail through the loop, pulsing desire heating every fiber of her body.

He flicked the single button at the back of her neck, releasing her collar, releasing the dress, which then clung precariously to the tips of her breasts.

He kissed her neck, his lips hot, his tongue teasing her sensitive skin. He made his way toward her shoulder, while her clumsy fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt.

With an exclamation, he tore open the shirt, sending the buttons flying, tossing it in a heap in the corner of the room.

“That was only a few hours old,” she told him breathlessly, even as her palms went flat against the heat and strength of his chest. She stroked her way up, over his flat nipples, finding the contours of his pecs and shoulders. She found the ridge of a scar, and then another.

She leaned around to kiss it, flicking her tongue against his skin as he had to hers.

He groaned, and she suckled the spot.

His big hands slid down her back, grasping her buttocks, pulling her against his hardness. She ran her fingers through his short hair, kissed her way across his chest, then managed to release his belt.

His hands moved up her thighs, beneath the short dress, discovering she wasn’t wearing any panties beneath. She’d had no spare ones, so she hadn’t had a choice.

A rumble rose in his throat, and he kissed her deeply, thoroughly. Then he pulled back a fraction of an inch.

“Just so you know,” he told her in a strained voice. “Because at some point it’s going to matter. I truly hate myself right now. But I am
so
into you. I can’t resist. I can’t…”

His words were confusing. She didn’t understand what he was trying to say, but then he resumed his kisses, his hands tugging her dress. It fell to pool at her feet, and she stopped thinking altogether.

He stripped off his pants, and they were both naked. They fell together on the bed, stretching out. He wrapped one leg across her body, a hand going to her breast, as he continued the mind-blowing kisses that sent heat cascading along her skin and through to her very bones.

They explored each other’s bodies, kissing every inch, letting the passion between them build almost unbearably. He finally rose above her, donned a condom and pushed himself slowly, exquisitely, inexorably inside.

Niki had never felt so complete. Her body accommodated the size of him, all but singing with pleasure at the way they were joined.

She automatically arched her hips, tightened her legs around his waist, stretching to meet him as he set a slow rhythm. She kissed him over and over again. Then she stretched her head back, groaning his name while he kissed her neck, her chest, the tips of her breasts.

His pace increased. And she felt a storm brewing inside her, taking her higher, her muscles incredibly taut. He slid a hand beneath her buttocks, lifting her to him, while his breath ran ragged in her ear.

“Niki,” he cried, and her heart stopped cold.

Her brain flatlined, disengaging in awestruck fear. But Gabriella’s voice stepped in.
“Don’t react,”
it shouted. “Keep it together. He doesn’t know you know. You
can’t
let him know you know.”

She hugged him close. She moaned, then groaned, then cried out, as his own body climaxed, before he collapsed against her.

He held her close, kissed her gently, then rose on his elbow, smoothing back her hair.

“Okay?” he asked her, tenderness laced in his tone, even as he watched her intently. He obviously realized he’d spoken her real name, and he was trying to figure out if it had registered with her.

“Fantastic,” she managed with a smile, only the slightest catch to her voice.

Hot tears were building behind her eyes. But she held them at bay, snuggled up in front of him, spooning with his gorgeous, sexy, traitorous body, until his breathing went deep and even. Then her tears spilled out, dripping silently across her face to soak into the pillowcase.

Someone had obviously gotten to Sawyer.

Her enemies had found her.

* * *

Sawyer slammed the front door of his ranch house, tossing his Stetson across the room, shouting a string of the most vile swearwords in his repertoire.

Dylan instantly appeared. “What the h—?”

Sawyer swore again.

“What happened?” asked Dylan.

“I called her Niki.” Sawyer could not believe he’d done it. He could not believe he had been so colossally, unforgivably stupid.

“What? When? How? What did she do?”

“Nothing,” said Sawyer, still working that one through in his brain. “She didn’t do anything. She didn’t react. Maybe she didn’t notice. Maybe she didn’t hear. She might not have heard.” Even as he voiced the words out loud, he had a hard time believing them.

“When? Where? What were you doing?” Dylan repeated.

Sawyer didn’t answer.

“Oh,” said Dylan, his flat tone conveying it all.

“I tried to resist,” Sawyer felt compelled to explain. “But she’s not what she’s supposed to be. She’s not malicious or conniving. I don’t think she’s plotting against anyone. From what I can tell, she’s an ordinary woman in a bad circumstance, just trying to get on with her life.”

“You fell for her.” It wasn’t a question.

Sawyer wished he could deny it. He wished he could lie. Even more than that, he wished it wasn’t true.

“Of all the women in the world,” Dylan drawled.

“You don’t have to tell me it’s bad,” said Sawyer.

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.”

Sawyer was trying to convince himself to wait and see. She’d behaved normally at breakfast, if a bit quieter than yesterday. Then again, they had made love, and slept in each other’s arms last night. That could easily have changed things, made her uneasy.

On the drive home, again, there was nothing he could put his finger on. She hadn’t been as carefree as she had on the river. She might have seemed distracted. But she certainly hadn’t confronted him with his slip-up.

He wanted to give it a chance. He couldn’t help but hope she hadn’t heard him, or had been too caught up in the moment for her real name to register. More than anything, he wanted to go back to the way things were yesterday, before he’d screwed up. Not because his cover story would still be intact, but because it had been one of the best days of his life.

“If she knows you know,” Dylan ventured.

“I know,” Sawyer responded. “She’ll be gone in a heartbeat, and I might never find her again.”

He knew he should be worried about his uncle’s fate. But, right now, the thought of never seeing Niki again was a stake to his heart for a whole other reason.

“Are you going to call Charles?”

“
No.
No.” That was the last thing Sawyer would do.

He wasn’t about to tell his uncle the romance plan was in jeopardy. He didn’t want Charles or anybody else anywhere near Niki. “I’ll take care of this myself.”

“There’s a possibility you haven’t thought of,” said Dylan.

“What’s that?” Sawyer was open to options at this point.

“She played you.”

“No.”

“She knew who you were all along, and she purposely got under your skin for her own ends.”

“She’s not like that. She’s fresh and open, kind of sweet and funny. She’s intensely sexual, but in an unselfconscious way. She’s not a siren.”

Disbelief took over Dylan’s expression. “Seriously, dude. Is that not exactly what they said about Gabriella?”

“Not in the same way.” Sawyer categorically refused to believe Niki was like Gabriella. “Niki tries to differentiate herself from her mother.”

But Dylan was shaking his head. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news. And please don’t shoot the messenger here. But you have got to allow for the possibility that she’s a great actress.”

“To what end?” Sawyer demanded.

“To
this
end.” Dylan gestured up and down at Sawyer. “She’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

“And how does that help her?”

“I don’t know,” Dylan admitted. “But I bet we’re going to all find out together.”

* * *

“He
knows.
” Niki slammed to a halt at the entrance to the living room when she noticed the room was full of people. Caleb and Mandy had arrived, and Travis seemed to be visiting.

“Who knows what?” Katrina asked, coming to her feet.

“I’m sorry,” Niki hastily put in. “I didn’t mean to interrupt—”

“You’re not interrupting anything,” Mandy quickly assured her.

Niki’s gaze went to Caleb, uncertain, since they hadn’t spoken since her confession. But before she could say anything, he was striding forward, pulling her into a warm embrace. “You did the right thing, little sister,” he told her gruffly.

She drew back. “I wish I hadn’t lied.”

“Me, too. But I understand.”

Niki wished she had time to appreciate Caleb and Mandy’s support. But she didn’t. “Sawyer knows,” she repeated. “He knows I’m Niki Gerard.”

“Are you sure?” asked Katrina.

“He used my real name.”

“When?” asked Katrina.

Niki glanced around at the group, all eyes trained on her. “We had a nice date,” she recounted, struggling to contain her embarrassment. “In a moment of inattention, he called me Niki.”

“Inattention?” Reed asked, a puzzled expression on his face.

But then everybody picked up her meaning.

Travis obviously fought a smirk.

“Baby sister?” Reed chided.

“You can mock me later,” she warned him.

Katrina socked her husband in the arm. “We’ve got a real problem here.”

“I know,” Reed agreed.

“What did you do?” asked Travis from where he was sitting on the sofa.

“Nothing. I pretended I didn’t hear.”

Reed drew back. “So, you just kept…”

Katrina hit him harder this time.

“I’m just trying to get the picture.”

“We’ve got the picture,” said Katrina. “Does he know you know?”

“I tried really hard to behave normally.”

“That’s impressive,” Caleb put in.

“Who
is he,
then?” asked Mandy, glancing around, voicing the question that had been on Niki’s mind all night. “What’s he doing here? How did he find out?”

Travis pointed to the laptop on the coffee table. It showed a photograph of Sawyer. “Here it is. He’s Sawyer Layton. Nephew of Senator Charles Layton who, I’m guessing, was a former lover of Gabriella Gerard.”

Niki gripped the back of an armchair. “He’s from D.C.?” Then the magnitude of the situation dawned on her. “Wait a minute. He bought a ranch? He bought an entire ranch as a way to get at me.”

“He got at more than just you,” Caleb noted, a calm but intense anger lacing his tone. “He got more than he ever bargained for.”

“He befriended us and seduced you,” Reed spat, both hands curling into fists by his sides.

Niki had come to recognize that posture. Her brother was furious.

The two men gave each other a long, hard look that seemed more like a conversation.

A cold fear washed through Niki. “What are you going to—”

“Annihilate Sawyer Layton,” Caleb said softly, an edge of steel to his tone.

“What?”

“They don’t mean it literally,” said Katrina. But then she glanced worriedly at Reed. “Right?”

“Not literally,” Reed acknowledged.

Both men moved toward the door.