Ocean of Love (14 page)

He carried the roses into the room and set
them on the cocktail table. “Lady’s choice. There’s a fully stocked
bar. What about a glass of champagne perhaps?”

“
To celebrate?” Her
overheated brain didn’t want to think in terms of words. Her whole
body quivered, her pulse set the tempo, and needy pulsations
thrummed between her thighs.

“
Sit and we’ll celebrate,
as you say.” He smiled. “A sweet idea.”

Sinking down onto the plush cushions of the
sofa, she crossed her legs, attempting to control the sparks he’d
incited, ready to turn inferno.

Wyatt moved toward the far side of the room,
stopping to light several candles. He turned off a few of the table
lamps arranged throughout the room.

“
Would you like to see the
terrace? Perhaps the most outstanding feature of this house. Until
now, of course.”

She clutched her throat. “I took the liberty
while you were gone. Magnificent.” The surf only yards away,
continued sending a song strong enough to tempt her in another
direction. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Behind the bar, set into
the wall, was a well-stocked wine cooler. He pulled out a bottle
of
Perrier-Jouët
. She’d been around
enough closings to recognize fine champagne, only this time she was
certain the celebration had nothing to do with real estate. She was
torn between giving in to her longings, doing things she
desperately wanted to experience with the only man who made her
feel attractive and somewhat protected. The idea was crazy, like
trusting a lion to keep from harming prey.

She traced a line on the arm of sofa. Could
she be happy if she gave up this chance? She glanced across the
room at Wyatt. She didn’t know what would be worse, to taste the
apple or keep on going, unaware and ignorant. And then there was
her need to return to the ocean.

Wyatt would more than likely want to leave
South Beach as soon as his deal was sealed. Sure, he’d come back to
oversee the construction progress, but that’s not what he was all
about. She’d learned as much. It was all about the thrill of the
chase. Nothing long-term here from what she could tell. Uncanny. It
all boiled down to one night, one man, one full-moon swim.

“
Are you chilly? Or
anxious?” He crossed the room carrying a bottle until he stood
directly in front of her. He tilted up her chin. “Marissa, I don’t
want you to be nervous.”

“
I’m fine. Really.” She
rubbed her face against his hand, cupping her hand over
his.

His eyes flickered before he returned the
bottle. “I think I know just the answer. Instead of champagne,
let’s try something different. Brandy. To take the chill off.”

Sinclair was right about Wyatt’s eagle eyes.
“A traditional nightcap.” She nodded. The proximity of Wyatt’s body
hummed or vibrated on a level that flowed over her, undressing her
of fear and distrust, opening her to the possibility of what lay
between them. The part of her being, the one usually forced to act
as sentinel, dissolved.

“
I’ll be right
back.”

She sat on the edge of the
cushion and plucked this month’s edition of
Fortune
from the cocktail table. His
company was listed in an article; one she’d already read. She
thumbed through the pages, unable to concentrate, and replaced the
magazine on the table. Her senses were sharp-edged this close to
the rise of the full moon. Her breath came in rapid
bursts.

He pulled two snifters from the shelf, and
liberally poured three fingers of toffee-colored liquor into each
glass.

She gazed around the room, aware that he was
whistling a low thread of a tune. Her pulse zipped, making it
impossible to remain seated. She crossed the room slowly.

He swirled the brandy in each snifter,
leaving amber rings along the inside of the glass. The aroma of
chocolate, dried fruit, and aged liquor spread across the air.

He handed her a glass. “Here’s to getting
what you desire.”

“
And enjoying what we
reap.” She tapped her glass against his, fighting to sip instead of
gulp the fiery alcohol.

The sweet stickiness of the brandy lifted
into a flavor of dry wood. The biting alcohol burned her mouth. Her
throat convulsed, bringing tears to her eyes. She held her breath,
allowing the blaze to settle. The brandy’s effect ignited her to
near combustion. She shivered as the tiny hairs along her skin
stood up in attention.

“
Feel better now?” His
voice tantalized her.

Her senses soared. The pound of the surf,
the whisper of the winds, and Wyatt’s pulse spread over her own
body. He stood so close to her, the cascade of his exhalation
drifted along her shoulder. Her nipples tightened, peaks of
pleasure aching for his touch.

“
Take your hair down,” he
said in a roughly.

She set her glass on the table. With shaky
fingers, she removed the pins one by one from her hair. Excitement
coursed through her veins, singing loudly as the pulsations between
her thighs unfurled into a storm, a long time in coming.

“
My God, you’re so
beautiful,” Wyatt murmured at the same time the last pin slipped
from her fingers. There was no thought, no plan, nothing except
giving in to a consuming desire. Her hair fell about her shoulders.
She shook her head, spilling her long tresses over her chest and
back in rippling curls. He slipped his hand into her hair, weaving
wavy tendrils around his fingers.

“
I’ve waited all day to do
this.” He groaned from behind a clenched jaw.

He drained the last of his brandy, set his
glass down, and his mouth sought hers. Hungry, powerful, searching.
He buried his hands further in her hair, and held her tightly
against him. His teeth nipped at the seam of her lips, forcing her
mouth apart, and he devoured her in one deep kiss.

She gave into him. Trusting and diving.
Kissing him reminded her of swimming in a warm ocean. Floating,
soothing, exciting. She savored the taste of his mouth, the texture
of his lips. His kiss ignited her desire.

“
Sweet Jesus,” he moaned
over the buzzing from his pocket. He pressed a quick kiss onto her
lips, shredding her will power. “It’s Sinclair.”

She held onto to him, pressing her forehead
against his shoulder, inhaling the scent of Wyatt into her
body.

He held the phone up to his ear. “Sinclair,
what’s the word?” Harsh cords within his voice pulled tight.

He ran his hand down her back, settling on
her hip, and making her tremble. She lifted her head, meeting his
decadent smile. His heated, raw gaze was composed of a predatory
glimmer cutting into her deep. The effect was a chemical combustion
in her body.

Wyatt moved against her, trailing his
fingers under her jacket, along her waist. She sucked in a breath,
expanding her chest, lifting her breasts, tightening the tips.

All the while his commanding eyes didn’t
leave her face. His hand moved around her hip, moved downward
forcing her up against his hard body.

“
Good job. I want you to
handle the closing package details. Miss Silverpointe proved
excellent in her capacity. The next phase rests in your hands. No
mistaking this Sinclair, I expect you and Hannah to take care of
the remaining details. Marissa’s part is done. Exit her from the
project so she’s not held up. No sense if she can be freed… I think
the dismal closing details are better suited to someone else. I’m
immensely pleased with her contribution. Communicate with Jason, my
attorney, or his law clerk, tie up the loose ends, and get that
closing completed. Simple.”

Red-hot anger shot through her already tense
body. She was pulled into a taut bow ready to find a target. Wyatt
hung up, raw power seeping from within him, converging within her
body, and still she couldn’t contain her outrage.

“
Removing me in my capacity
at this stage? I should be the one to decide and relay that to my
boss. Not be yanked off.” She felt her face heat and her body began
to shake. She’d rather walk out the front door and never, ever, lay
eyes on him again than be disrespected in this fashion. “I’m more
than insulted.”

His face remained impassive, even though his
voice crept toward her in a low growl. “Sweetheart, that’s not a
slight where you’re concerned. My God, even with your back against
some imaginary wall, you’re a sight. I’ve no intention of wasting
another moment of your precious life on such insignificant
details—”

She cut him off. “To you, Wyatt. I’m so
sorry my work as a realtor is less than exciting. Well, no harm
done. You’ll be on a plane to God-knows-where, now that you’re
finished. Another day and you’ll be free.”

“
I’m not free. Just the
opposite.” He moved so fast she didn’t have time to duck. He took
hold of her and kissed her quiet.

She pushed against him, making him tighten
his grasp. “Don’t fight what we’ve got. I’m not letting you go that
easily.” He kissed her, his mouth melted over hers while he secured
her to him, his body bending her backward, taking his time. Sucking
her lips, he coaxed her to allow him entry. He moved against her,
holding her next to him, inch by inch, finding the way they
fit.

His tongue leisurely explored her mouth
until she relaxed, opened up to him, moaning against his mouth.
“Oh, God.” She clung to him, desire pooling between her legs.

His hand cupped her cheek. He pulled away
not more than a fraction of an inch. “I was talking about the
details of my stupid business deal. Not your career. I’ve more
important things to entertain you with my darling. No way am I
showing up with you tomorrow at some office. I’ve no intention of
leaving this house for the next week if I can get you upstairs.
Let’s face it, we’re through with business unless it involves you
and me naked. I don’t care about developing anything except a
relationship with you. I want you. Only you.”

She closed her eyes, lodged between desire
and anger. He lowered his mouth, trailing his lips over her neck.
His mouth made meticulous work of her sensitive skin up and down
her neck. He sucked, nuzzled, licked his way back to her mouth.

As though stunned by his hot lips, she let
go of being upset. Her emotional steam and heat were funneled back
into her ache to submit to him. She had boxed up her hunger of him
for hours and her yearning erupted into volcanic proportions. She
clung to him, tilting her head slightly, giving him better access.
She molded her body up against him, giving into his mouth. His
hands. Her desire.

“
You’re on fire. Damn, I
want to feel you naked up against me.” He kissed her temple then
pressed light kisses across her forehead down to the tip of her
nose. He reclaimed her mouth, sweeping his tongue across her lips,
kissing her harder, with a fierce possession. “I can’t help wanting
you. I won’t apologize for moving this fast.”

Her fingers crawled up his arms as if
holding on for dear life.

“
No, not too fast,” she
breathed out. Wyatt’s mouth and hands created amazing sensations
within her. She wanted more of him. Much more. She pressed her
mouth against his, opening up to him, letting him take command.
Their movements required no thoughts or words and bordered on
savage need.

“
I could kiss you all
night,” he murmured as he pulled slightly away. “Come with me
upstairs.”

She nodded and he lifted her into his arms.
He carried her up two steps at a time. She wrapped her arms around
his shoulders, watched as the chandelier curved high above her
head. They moved upward until he stepped into the second floor
hallway. His grasp tightened, setting off sparks across her skin.
She traced his angular jaw and touched the ends of his hair, nearly
coming to the top of his collar.

His gaze locked with hers.
“I will taste every inch of your body.” His
I’ll-take-whatever-the–hell-I-want
attitude percolated between her legs.

She didn’t want to deny him anything and
pushed back her fear. She was on a collision course with no way to
stop. He crossed the hall into a room. Double doors were swung wide
open on the opposite side of this bedroom. Another open terrace.
The music from below mixed with the sound of the sea and waves
floating in the air.

He set her on top of the bed. A smooth, down
comforter lay under her fingertips. He silently stroked her face
before running his hand down her neck, over her shoulder, tracing a
line down her arm. He lifted her fingertips up to his mouth before
he turned her hand over, opening her fingers. He pressed warm lips
against her palm. Decadent. The feel of his hot mouth on her skin
sent a jolt of aching need between her legs. She moaned, pinching
the silky comforter with her other hand.

He stepped away from the bed to close the
hall doors, and then turned back to her. She watched him unbutton
his shirt. She feasted upon the grooved pectoral muscles she’d
explored with her hands downstairs. He pulled the material off his
shoulders, shrugging out from his shirtsleeves. She inhaled, taking
in his upper body was a magnificent, muscular work of art. Her gaze
dropped to the bulge in his pants, making her suddenly painfully
aware, he and his intentions were real.

“
Are you sure? About us? I
mean you’re so….”
Huge
she nearly panted.

“
I’m not thinking about me.
You’re still dressed.” He made her gulp. He stood next to the bed
and ran his fingers up her arm. Then his knee was next to her hip,
the mattress dipping under his weight. Low lighting was cast from
nightstands on either side of the bed, and he tracked her
glance.