Stormbound with a Tycoon (8 page)

She had never had anyone rattle her composure the way he did. She tried to tell herself it was nothing more than an understandable reaction to a very sexy man, not any different from being aware of the latest heart throb movie star. It was nothing personal and certainly not with a man so blatantly wrong for her in every way possible or for that matter wrong for any woman who wanted a commitment to a true relationship. At least that was what she kept trying to tell herself.

And each time she tried, she knew it was a lie.

She watched him as he carried in an armload of wood and put it on the hearth next to the fireplace. He added a couple of logs to the fire, then stared at it for a few seconds. Everything about him excited her. No man had ever left her nerve endings tingling or her lungs gasping for air the way he did.

“There.” He turned to face her, extending a casual smile. “That should last us for a while.” He checked his watch. “At least until bedtime…” His smile faded as their gazes locked.

The electricity crackled between them, filling the air with a sensual heat that neither of them could ignore or deny. He took a couple of steps toward her and held out his hand. It was as if he no longer had control of his actions. He grasped her hand in his, then laced their fingers together. No man in his right mind could ignore this beautiful and desirable woman.

“Did you find the lamp oil and batteries?” He knew it was a stupid question, but he felt pressured to say
something in an attempt to ease the pounding in his chest.

“Uh…yes, they're on the kitchen counter.”

He led her back to the chairs in front of the fireplace. “Make yourself comfortable.” He glanced toward the window where the last remnants of daylight showed the rain hitting against the panes of glass. Light and shadow flickered around the walls, the fireplace providing the only illumination in the room. “I brought some bottles of wine with me. A glass of wine should fit right in with a rainy night and a nice fire, don't you think? It will give us a chance to talk…to get to know each other a little better.” He smiled encouragingly, not at all sure where he was going with any of this.

She tried to speak, but no words came out. Her throat closed off when she attempted to swallow. A shortness of breath caught in her lungs. She nodded her head in agreement, unable to manage anything else. He had charmed his way into her life, and she didn't know how to stop it…or if she even wanted it stopped.

Dylan disappeared into the kitchen and returned a few minutes later carrying two glasses of wine. He handed one of them to her, then seated himself in the other chair. He held out his glass toward her. “Let's drink to discovering new friends.”

He cocked his head and looked at her questioningly. He dropped his voice to a seductive whisper as he delved into the depth of her eyes. The uncertainty and the tenuous nature of the situation quickly swept over him. The tightness pulled across his chest again, a sensation that repeated whenever he got too near to Jessica. “And to the promise of what the future holds?”

She raised her glass to meet his, even though she didn't have control over the tremor that caused her hand to shake just a little. She repeated his words, forcing her voice to climb above a whisper. “To discovering new friends.”

He took a sip from his glass, then settled back in his chair. “Tell me about yourself, Jessica. What have you been doing since you were sixteen years old? You're using the name McGuire…does that mean you've never married?”

“I took back my maiden name when I got divorced seven years ago.” She took a sip of her wine. A soft warmth drifted over her, but it failed to drive away the unsettled tremors warning her against getting too comfortable around this man. “What about you? Have you ever been married?”

“Marriage is for suckers.”

His blunt statement caught her by surprise. “That's a pretty cynical attitude.”

“Perhaps.” He reflected on his comment for a moment, then quickly turned the conversation back to her. “You're divorced? Do you have any children?”

“No…” She clenched her jaw for a moment before relaxing the facial expression that spoke to him of past hurts and some still-unresolved issues. The bitterness of deep wounds surrounded her words. “My
ex
wasn't interested in having a family.”

The brief glimpse of her pain touched a spot deep inside him. He caressed her cheek, touched her hair, then trailed his fingertips down the side of her neck before relinquishing the sensation. His words were more whispered than spoken. “I'm sorry it didn't work out for you.”

It was a moment of emotional intimacy, a totally
spontaneous gesture brought on by a sense of shared disappointment and loss. He drew in a steadying breath in a futile attempt to calm the unsettled feelings racing around inside him, but it didn't help. It was an urgency that wanted so much more than to merely feel the texture of her skin. The heat of the brief moment when he brushed his lips against hers came rushing back at him.

He swallowed down the lump in his throat as he struggled for something to say…anything to keep him from doing what he really wanted to do. “You…you said you work in public relations. Do you have your own company?”

“I'm a freelance consultant, so I guess that makes it my own company, even though I'm not an incorporated business. I'm contracted per project rather than being on staff somewhere.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

The sensation of his touch still lingered on her cheek, sending shivers of excitement rippling across her skin. Her breath caught in her lungs. She took a sip of her wine. The seductive atmosphere was tantalizing, yet much too disturbing. He was her ex-husband all over again—the same type of handsome features, the charming manner and flagrantly womanizing ways.

Dylan Russell was absolutely wrong for her. His type of man would never be content to give up his globe-trotting ways, to settle down to a life of responsibility and commitment, any more than her ex-husband had been willing to accept the responsibilities of marriage and commitment. So why did his mere touch make her tremble with anticipation about what
might be? It was a question she did not want to dwell on.

She took another drink from her wineglass before replying to his question. “Yes. I enjoy my work very much. I like the challenge and seeing the results of my efforts.”

He leaned back in his chair and swirled the wine in his glass, staring at the rich red color until it came to rest before he took a drink. His expression turned reflective, his words almost as if he was saying them to himself rather than talking to her. “Being able to stick around to see the successful outcome of your efforts must be very rewarding for you.” He took another sip from his glass and stared blankly at the burning logs.

She cocked her head and wrinkled her brow into a frown. He seemed to be a thousand miles away, as if his thoughts were far removed from their conversation. She spoke hesitantly, not sure exactly how to respond to his comment. “That's a sad sort of statement. Don't you ever get to see the outcome of your efforts?”

“Sometimes…well, it's not always possible….” The outcome of his efforts—yes, he definitely had seen the outcome of his
efforts.
He had seen a very nice man and his wife almost financially ruined because of his
efforts.
He drained the last swallow from his wineglass. He didn't know how to answer her without saying more than he was willing to reveal.

He forced a smile and covered his concerns with a practiced charm as he expertly steered the conversation away from himself. “I'd much rather talk about you. How did you get into public relations?”

An announcement on the radio broke into their conversation. Even though the rain had let up considerably where they were, it was still raining hard farther
up in the mountains and the bridge would remain closed throughout the night. The widespread power outages would also continue until the storm let up and work crews could get out to make the necessary repairs.

Dylan didn't know if that was what he wanted to hear or not. His time with Jessica had been enough for him to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that if they stayed in the cabin together, regardless of the fact that they had separate bedrooms, he would end up making a very sincere pass at her before the night was over. He also knew that it wouldn't come from a place of fun and games. His greatest fear at the moment was just how real his attraction to her had become and how serious it could end up being.

“Your glass is empty and so is mine.” He rose from his chair and took her glass from her hand. “I'll pour us another glass.”

“No—” The panic coursed through her body. The gentle patter of rain on the roof, a cozy fire and a man who made her heart pound with excitement—a second glass of wine was probably not the best idea. She looked up into the emerald depths of his eyes and that was all it took. “Well…maybe half a glass.”

A warm smile spread across his face. “I'll be right back.”

She watched him until he disappeared into the kitchen, then she leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes and expelled the breath she had been holding from the moment he flashed that killer smile. She wasn't a silly teenager. She was a mature woman. So why were her hormones doing flip-flops every time he looked at her?

“H
ere you go.”

The sound of Dylan's voice snapped Jessica to attention. She took the glass from his outstretched hand. “Thank you, although this seems to be more than half a glass.”

A mischievous grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I guess I forgot.”

As much as she wanted to be annoyed by the obvious ploy, his little-boy-who-was-caught-doing-something-naughty expression cut right through her annoyance and touched a warm spot inside her.

“I see. It just sort of slipped your mind?”

He adopted a serious stance as if repelling an accusation. “Are you doubting my integrity?”

“Perhaps.” It was certainly a loaded question, one that could produce an unpleasant disagreement or a moment of gentle teasing. There had already been
enough strained incidents between them for one day. They were stranded together. No purpose would be served by exacerbating the problem.

She tried, but she couldn't suppress the grin that played across her lips. “Does your integrity fall into doubt very often?”

“Never! I'm known far and wide for my integrity.” The brief lighthearted moment suddenly fell serious as his own words hit him hard. A mental image of Stanley and Rose Clarkson popped into his mind. Integrity, indeed! He had done nothing wrong, yet the guilt and remorse continued to twist his insides into knots.

He grabbed the poker and jabbed at the burning logs with a vengeance in an attempt to keep his inner turmoil from showing. The last thing he wanted was for this very together woman to see the vulnerability he worked so hard to keep hidden.

“There.” He replaced the poker, pleased with his success at maintaining control of the situation. “That should do it for a while longer—” The words caught in his throat as he turned toward her. The light from the fire bathed her face in a soft golden glow and reflected in the depth of her eyes. He had never seen anything so captivating and beautiful in his entire life. The sight literally took his breath away, leaving him momentarily speechless. He had never wanted anyone as much as he wanted her at that moment.

Panic squeezed his insides. Logic screamed at him to go upstairs and lock himself in Justin's bedroom before he did something foolish—something he knew he would end up regretting. His desires overruled his anxieties, effectively managing to shove his panic aside. He picked up a couple of the large floor pillows stacked against the wall and placed them in front of
the hearth. He took the wineglass from her hand and set it on the mantel next to his.

“I believe you were telling me about your public relations work.” The huskiness that accompanied his words left him uneasy—a huskiness he feared would belie his outer calm. He took her hand and gave it a gentle tug.

“I think we'd be cozier over here, closer to the fire.” Was he asking for more trouble than he already had? Deep down inside he knew the answer, but chose to ignore it.

“I don't know if that's a good idea…” Her words trailed off before she could finish what she was trying to say. He coaxed her to her feet and escorted her the few steps to the floor pillows. The warmth of his touch traveled from her hand, up her arm and spread through her body. It was the type of sensual heat that radiated from the inside, one far more intense than could ever be generated by a fireplace. She feared what the night would bring, but was helpless to resist. She had allowed herself to become trapped in the pull of his magnetic sex appeal.

As soon as she was seated on the pillow he retrieved the wineglasses from the mantel. He handed one of them to her, but seemed somewhat distracted as he settled himself on the other pillow. He furrowed his brow in concentration, took a sip from his glass and stared into the fire as if lost in thought. She studied his profile, the worried expression on his face and his tensed muscles. Something was troubling him. She had seen it earlier, and now she saw it again just as the touches of vulnerability had shown from time to time. Perhaps his life wasn't as charmed as she had assumed.

“Are you okay?”

He glanced in her direction, a hint of confusion covering his features. “Am I okay? Certainly. Why do you ask?”

“You seem…well, sort of preoccupied. Is…” She wasn't sure about how to proceed. “Is there something wrong?” She hesitated, then cautiously asked, “Something you'd like to talk about?” A sadness in his eyes touched a spot deep inside her, a poignancy that connected on a very human level, bypassing the sensual pull and creating a surprising feeling of closeness. She touched his arm and ventured a tentative comment. “I'm a very good listener.”

Dylan turned his gaze on her, once again capturing her essence and pulling her very soul into the depths of his eyes. She swallowed hard, but didn't look away. A troubled expression covered his face, a hesitation that said he was turning her words over in his mind. He glanced at the fire for a moment. When he returned his attention to her, all the uncertainty she saw just seconds earlier had been replaced by his easy manner and smooth charm.

“Why would you think something was wrong? What could be better than this? We have a nice fire, a bottle of good wine…” The practiced smile faded. The warmth of his touch spread across her cheek, then his lips were on hers. It was not another quick brushing as before. This was a kiss, a very real kiss that sent a wave of excitement crashing through her body. This was wrong…totally and completely wrong. He was the wrong man. What they were doing was wrong. So why did it feel so very right?

Every doubt she ever had disappeared in a heated rush when he enfolded her into his embrace. He held
her body against his, gently caressing her back and shoulders with a touch so sensual that she couldn't have fought it even if she wanted to. She slipped her arms around his neck, returning his kiss with a fervor that spoke volumes about the passion hidden beneath her logical and organized surface.

Dylan twined his fingers in the silky strands of her hair, then sank back into the softness of the floor pillows, taking her with him. His lips nibbled at the corners of her mouth then he recaptured it with a new intensity. Her taste filled him with a need for more. She was every bit as delicious as he knew she would be…and every bit as addictive as he feared. Any thoughts he might have had, any attempt to rationalize his actions, disappeared in a heartbeat…a very excited heartbeat to be sure.

Jessica found herself wrapped in the sensual cocoon that embodied Dylan Russell, a blanket every bit as emotional as it was physical. She had wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him, and she wasn't disappointed. Her heart pounded in her chest. He literally took her breath away, leaving her light-headed. His mouth demanded, yet she didn't feel threatened. He took, but not more than she willingly gave.

She ran her fingers through his thick hair, all the while allowing him to pull her body tighter against his. Never had anything so wrong felt so right. A tremor darted up her spine when he ran his hand under the back of her sweater and across her bare skin. A rush of excitement rippled through her body in the wake of his touch. It spoke to her of the ecstasy that could be, while at the same time leaving her fearful of the consequences.

It had been many years since she had been this at
tracted to a man. And once again she had gravitated toward a man who showed no interest in the things she felt very strongly about such as commitment, responsibility and honesty in a relationship. Everything she had heard about him said he was far too much like her ex-husband in that regard. She had been there before and didn't want to repeat the mistake, regardless of how much Dylan excited her. Somehow she had to find the inner strength to put a stop to what was happening…somehow, before it was too late. Then, as if a second surge of energy had taken hold, his kiss infused her with a passion unlike anything she had ever before experienced. Any further doubts evaporated.

Her ardent response caught him by surprise. He had given in to a very strong desire, half spontaneous impulse and half conscious method, but had not expected such earthy enthusiasm in return. He
knew
beyond a shadow of a doubt that he shouldn't be doing this and certainly not with this woman, but all the conscious thought in the world didn't change things. She excited him in a way no other woman ever had, an excitement not confined to only physical desires…an excitement so intense that it scared him.

He forced the thoughts from his mind. He didn't want to think and he certainly didn't want to rationalize what he was doing. He wanted only to indulge each and every sensation. He caressed her bare skin beneath her sweater as he slid his hand across her back, then pulled her tighter in his arms. Her breasts pressed against his chest with each breath she took, stimulating his ardor more than he had been prepared to comfortably control. He ran his hand along the curve of her hip, then across her bottom as he snuggled her hips against his.

He kissed his way from her lips to the side of her neck. The soft moan escaped his throat as soon as he relinquished domination of her mouth, quickly followed by a shiver of panic. As sure as he knew his own name, he also knew he had started down a path that could only lead him where he had no business going. Knowing, however, didn't change anything. He continued down that very path, more enthralled with her than he had ever been with any woman.

Jessica's senses whirled in an uncontrolled haze. Little tingles of pure pleasure followed in the wake of his kisses, sending shivers of delight down her back until they reached the warmth of his hand stroking her bare skin. Every excited breath she drew told her making love with Dylan Russell would be an experience beyond anything she had ever known.

Then a hard jolt of fear yanked her back to her senses. She pushed away from him in a near panic to escape the embrace that had propelled her to new heights, if only for a moment. Her heart pounded, but not just from the very persuasive seduction that had almost been her downfall. Fear also pounded in her chest…fear of what he made her feel and how much she would willingly give to him without question.

Her words came out in a breathless rush. “This is wrong. It has to stop.” She tried to force a confidence and determination into her voice. She refused to make eye contact with him, knowing she didn't dare allow even that bit of a connection.

“Why?” The huskiness of his voice said more than his words.

She scrambled to her feet. “This is happening much too fast.” She nervously smoothed her hair back with her fingers. “Perhaps you're comfortable with life in
the fast lane…with easy conquests and recreational sex…but that's not my style.”

He snapped out his response, anger surrounding his words as much as confusion. “What's that supposed to mean?”

She took a couple of steps away from him, desperate to escape the pull of his sexual energy…the very same irresistible magnetism that had totally captured her in its grasp. She tried her best to project an in-control businesslike manner. “I'd appreciate it if you'd move your belongings to Justin's bedroom. It's been a long, exasperating day and I'm tired.”

He made no attempt to hide his feelings about her accusations as he snapped out his response. “I moved my things this morning.”

Surprise shot her gaze toward him, locking with his for a heated second before she forced herself to turn away. He looked so sexy, so desirable…and also angry. She couldn't allow herself to be drawn in again. “This morning? Before the bridge was even closed?”

He ignored her question as he slowly sat upright while trying to pull his composure together. The anger continued to churn inside him…
easy conquests and recreational sex.
Did she honestly believe that was all he wanted from her? All that mattered in his life?

Her voice had become hesitant. “I…uh, think it's time to call it a night.”

Her words cut into his thoughts. He saw the uncertainty that blanketed her features, and it softened his anger at bit. Perhaps she had been right in her accusations. It wasn't the way things were now, but he couldn't say that about the past.

“I'll see you in the morning.” She turned and
walked up the stairs without waiting for him to answer.

He watched her until she was out of sight. He had not been sure how to respond to her accusations or her attitude. One moment she was wrapped in his arms, all the heat and passion any man could want, and the next she was hurling unfair accusations at him. He continued to stare at the top of the staircase, but Jessica did not reappear. He finally rose to his feet, lit the wick of an oil lamp and put out the remains of the fire in the fireplace.

He carried the lamp upstairs, pausing for a moment at her closed door. The passion of the kisses they had shared continued to linger on his senses. He wanted more, but those desires were tempered with caution. Why had she so abruptly broken off their heated yet all too brief liaison, and with such hurtful words?

He knocked softly. “Jessica?”

He waited, but no response came from the other side of the door. He continued on to the other bedroom and set the lamp on the nightstand. A restlessness consumed him, something more than just not being sleepy. He stared out the window into the darkness. It had nearly stopped raining. Maybe morning would put a brighter light on things. He looked around hoping to find something to read. He opened the door in the nightstand, removed a couple of magazines, then replaced them. Then he opened the nightstand drawer.

He could not stop the amused chuckle when he saw the condom packets. Maybe Jessica considered the cabin to be a quiet getaway, but it was obvious that Justin used it as a seductive location for his love life. The chuckle faded as he picked up one of the packets. He glanced toward the bedroom door. She was so near.
A sigh of resignation reverberated through his chest. He put the packet back and slowly closed the drawer.

He undressed and climbed into bed, but sleep eluded him. He couldn't shut off the thoughts about Jessica, about the possibilities presented from their being stranded together. There was one thing that had become very clear to him—there could never be a no-strings-attached affair with her. She was the type of woman who would demand…and he reluctantly allowed that she would also deserve…some sort of commitment. How could he possibly think in terms of a commitment when he had no idea what the future held for him? There was no way he could involve anybody else in his life until he put his own demons of guilt to rest and resolved his emotional fears.