Ocean of Love (11 page)

* * *

By the time she entered the restaurant, she
could barely walk straight from the constant rippling sensations
between her legs. She stopped at the maître d’s desk and inquired
about her client’s arrival. The maître d asked her to wait a
moment.

She glanced around.
The
front room of the
Chateau
was
decorated in dark wood panels, chandeliers, and rich,
textured fabrics. Two long corridors divided the restaurant with
doorways flanking either side.

A famous and infamous
restaurant.
She inhaled the sumptuous air.
Delicious dishes composed an ever-changing menu. She was escorted
to a private alcove off the terrace. The individual dining rooms
catered to the needs of couples for complete privacy. Notoriously
decadent.

The waiter knocked. Then there was a lag
time before entering. She had heard Wyatt clearly say to enter, but
here they stood in the corridor with the waiter glancing at the
floor.

Marissa peered at the waiter, “Excuse me. I
thought I heard Mr. Herndon say to enter.”

She could have sworn the man was counting
down as his head bobbed. The waiter opened the door and hung
back.

Wyatt’s gaze connected with
hers, sending an intense flash of giddy excitement through her
body. He stood, making her
knees dissolve
into sand. The shock of her desire, a cutting awareness, pulled at
her. The lancing expression in his eyes—unbraided lust—was
practically tangible within the confined space.

The waiter asked if they were ready for
dinner. A second time. “Yes, I believe we are,” Wyatt
responded.

She smiled at the tone of his voice. Then
the door closed, leaving them alone in a room that contained a sofa
and fully laid table.

“
You look lovely. I’m so
happy you found me. I didn’t know there were compartments. I
wondered if you’d think I had planned something
scandalous.”

“
No, the restaurant serves
an excellent cuisine. Cozy is part of the charm. I see you’re
enjoying the evening view of the sea. Soon you’ll own part of the
view.”

“
That depends upon you.
Doesn’t it?” He nodded and came forward. “It’s beautiful at this
time. If you come here, you can see the constellation
Orion.”

She crossed to the terrace to stand next to
him. Wyatt came up close to her, the nearness of him made her
hypersensitive to her surroundings. “Where?” God, she wanted to
relax against him. Instead, she followed his pointing finger,
gazing upward into the night sky.

“
That star shining brighter
than the rest is Betelgeuse. The armpit of the hunter.”

His words and expression had her skin
tightening. She had to stop this longing or it would be too late.
She answered leaning away, but still she trembled. “Yes. The red
one.”

“
Precisely. Easy to find on
a night like this. Come inside. It’s chilly out here.” The pressure
from his hand steered her back inside the room that appeared
smaller than before.

Marissa sniffed the ocean breeze as well as
a floral aroma, and the scent of a cigar he must have lit at some
point. An open bottle of wine stood ready to pour. A dozen
blood-red roses adorned the table. Not ordinary roses but
voluptuous blossoms in full bloom.

“
The roses are remarkable.
Perfect,” she murmured.

“
I was informed they’re
ours to take. Consider them as belonging to you,” he
said.

She refocused on Wyatt, a powerful man in
front of her. And a mistake. His eyes were bluer than she
remembered, or it was the effect of crimson-colored walls of the
room. He gazed at her and drew her to him, his hand covering
hers.

She fought his wordless command but whatever
he silently asserted overpowered her. “Thank you for meeting me
tonight.”

Marissa flinched uncontrollably, slamming on
the brakes of her self-control. “Please Wyatt. This is the last
stepping stone and I’m eager to share the property reports.”

“
I understand. Then let’s
proceed.” He released her but not before her willpower floundered.
Caught in the middle of a battle to heed caution or ride on the
waves of passion, she remembered to take a seat. She passed by him,
so close their arms brushed, and a blaze of heat broke free from a
point between her shoulder blades.

He wore a white dress shirt that clung to
buff torso, open four buttons from the collar, and displaying a
patch of near-black hair on his chest. His muscular shoulders
spread before her face. She glanced down his dark slacks, hugging
his lean hips. When he moved, even in the evening light, the,
outlines of his muscular thighs tempted her. This time she didn’t
look away from the space below his belt. She licked her lips
hungrily and flexed her toes. Then she stumbled.

“
Are you alright?” His
fingers encircled her upper arm. Off-balanced, she caught hold of
his arm, clutching a rock-hard bicep.

He came at her from the side, closed the
distance. All she had to do was stop and turn. She might as well
have been clutching a frayed electrical cord. Amped energy released
and passed between their bodies. If she didn’t let go—move
away—she’d be a product of spontaneous combustion.

“
Whew, yes … yes. My foot
hit the table leg. I don’t know why I’m so clumsy today. What must
you think?”

He held her aloft, up against him, secure.
“That this room is getting smaller by the second. Here, please sit
down.”

She released her hold of him. The corners of
his lips curled while he studied her face, and dipped lower. Her
jacket was open, displaying the body she’d tried to hide. From his
stalled expression, it was obvious he was looking. She enjoyed his
contemplation as long as she was fully clothed. Her scalding skin
still burned, hotter being next to him.

“
May I?” He placed his
hands on her shoulders, making her flinch.

She nodded, her mouth drier than summer
pavement, and she prayed for self-control. His fingers skimmed over
his shoulders, teasing her nerve endings. Marissa slipped her arms
from her jacket, coming out of it in a hurry.

She knocked over an empty
wine glass and groaned. “See what I mean. I can’t imagine what’s
come over me? I feel like a bull in a china cabinet.” She wiped her
fingers across her forehead.
Not
exactly
. More like a burning
bush.

She was on fire. With flames ready to
consume her from the inside out. With each ebb and flow, her
restraint drained and left her hollow of excuses to keep fighting
her primal need to be with this man. What was the point, she asked
herself, unable to remember for a moment why she’d believed letting
him take possession of her body was wrong.

Marissa gripped the table with her fingers.
She needed a drink. A glass of wine. She was ready to drink the
entire bottle, plus the ice and water in the bucket.

“
My God, your skin is
flushed. Are you sunburned?” He pulled up a chair next to her seat,
and sat close enough so that their arms brushed up against one
another.

“
No. The room is a bit
warm.” She closed her eyes to keep from yelling,
“
Uncle.”

“
I don’t think it’s the
room. Here, try a glass of wine.”

She heard him get up. She felt him brush his
fingertips across the top of her hand.

Her eyes snapped open. She instinctively
turned her face and for a millisecond she held his gaze rooted to
the chair. “Ice,” she said. “Please, something to tone down this
heat.”

“
Sweet Jesus.” He stared
back into her face.

She croaked, “May I have a glass of ice
water? I didn’t drink much water today.” She imagined sitting below
a stream of cool water and exhaled.

“
Good idea.” He leaned
over, pouring mineral water from a dark green bottle into a glass
filled with ice. The bubbles danced at the edge. He held the glass
to her lips. “Drink.”

She took the glass in her hand and leaned
back, as far away from him as she could without falling off the
chair.

“
Oh no, you don’t.” He
moved toward her, swiftly, gathering her as the chair
tipped.

He must think she was a freak. This was
turning out to be the exact polar opposite of what she had
envisioned. Forget a love life. Her career would be threatened if
she continued on this collision course. The harder she tried to
avoid him, the more she chanced doing a face-plant into the floor.
Three times was no charm. One more time, and he’d salute her
goodbye.

“
I’m better.” She bit her
lip, glancing back at him, wondering what he’d taste like. Or how
the skin at his jaw would feel under her lips. Never had she come
this close to taking a chance.

“
I brought the information
concerning the properties. Everything.” She breathed heavily and
handed him a folder. “Apex Broker’s Report as you requested. We
should get some work done.”

“
You never quit do you?
Well, then let’s get to it. Business first,” he said.

“
It’s what you wanted.
We’ve got a great plan. I think if you let me, we can move quickly
through the information. But can we sit across from one
another?”

She’d taken the
damned high road,
not
the seductive, dark, sensuous road she longed to drag this man
down. Marissa lifted her chin, staring into his eyes.

One of his arms rested on the back of her
chair. With the other he rubbed his forehead, nodding before he
stood, and crossed to his side of the table.

Chapter Eight

He’d not last through the first glass of
wine if this was any indication of how and where the evening was
headed. My God, his lust thundered, fiery from the feel of her
skin. Her proximity had him reeling.

How would he even manage controlling the
urge to kiss her at this rate? She was so damn alluring and he was
at a loss. Other women tempted him with seductive clothing,
flirtatious smiles, a display of flesh. Not this woman. She came to
him tonight in clothing better suited to a Quaker’s grandmother.
She hid each inch of skin as though she were a miser of flesh.

He studied the folder. The silver-stamped
letters spelling out Apex. He caught sight of her slender fingers
tapping against the table. “Wine?” he asked.

“
Yes, please.” He combed
fingers through his hair, and picked up the wine bottle. He poured
a sample into her glass.

“
Tell me what you think.”
He waited for her reaction. The curve of her breasts pushed against
her blouse. She gazed back at him over the crystal goblet. Try as
she might, pile on the blankets, she’d not hidden the heat in her
eyes. Or the high-pitched lilt she’d released each time she’d
stumbled, about to fall. She was more than nervous. He’d never seen
a woman so undone. But why was she so out-of-sorts in suppressing
what her body wanted—what his body wanted? The tension only made
his hunger sharper.

She bit her lip, swirling the wine inside
her glass. Hell, he wanted to devour her lips. He imagined the feel
of her mouth opening to him, letting him take possession of her. He
watched her lips as she licked a droplet of wine from the corner of
her mouth. He swallowed a curse, holding out the wine bottle to
pour a proper glassful. He filled one for himself and took a long
pull from the rim.

His cock stiffened against his leg. The door
was shut. He’d be more than willing to pull her from her chair and
kiss her until she admitted she was aroused and wanted the same
thing he desired.

Christ, if she gave him the slightest sign,
he’d push aside the dinner settings to get her on top of the table.
He wanted to plunge into her until he was balls deep, her pussy
fisting him. To make her writhe and moan, call out his name in an
eight-course meal of sex where he’d start with her mouth, tongue
her honeyed slit, making her climax right before he seriously came
inside her.

“
Honestly, you’re driving
me crazy. I don’t think you’re faring any better. I just want to
bring up that point. In case, if you have any wishes to retract
your desire to keep this relationship strictly business. I would
whole-heartedly support rescinding our agreement. Hell, if it means
giving you permission to issue a bid, I’ll give you my phone right
now. Tell me a fair price. Done. Then can we stop fighting a battle
I’ve never understood. All I know is what I feel.”

“
And later, tomorrow, you
could say you were under duress. Please don’t put me in that
position. I’m still holding the same lines. No matter what you’d
like to believe.”

He wanted to call her out. Did she ever let
her guard down? His cock swelled thicker and harder.

“
Fine. Then let’s get
busy.” His gut knotted, making breathing a chore. Never had he
wanted a woman as much as this one. He imagined the feel of her
hot, wet mouth, and his promise to be a gentleman suffocated
him.

A breeze ruffled through the room, drawing
his attention to her fragrance, different from before. Sweet and
dark. His nostrils flared, and the door of desire was blown wide
open.

He refilled their glasses. She fit. The one
idea was as solid as the floor under his feet. Somehow, she was his
missing puzzle piece. Nothing logical, as a matter of fact, the
thought was far away from rational thought, but his primitive,
reptilian brain knew she was the one.