Worth the Risk (16 page)

They entered what really did look like the grand ballroom in a fairy tale. Rich and elegant, a cacophony of voices and music swirled in an ocean of people. Waiters with trays on shoulders carrying food and drink weaved and dodged. She’d never been to prom, or any type of dance, but imagined it might be something like this. Minus the fancy food and adding a harder beat instead of delicate strings.

They moved through the crowd, Stephen’s hand protective and assuring at the small of her back. There was laughter, twinkling and high, boisterous and low, and lots of half greetings.
Hey, how are you—Hi, haven’t seen you in—
They moved from one person to the next, barely skimming the social surface. But when people approached Stephen McKinney, they made a point to stop, make eye contact. And maybe she imagined it, but the men seemed to stand a little taller, the women smiled a little brighter.

It happened again and again, always with her introduction following. Hannah shook hands with the current two men.

“A pleasure. Stephen always gets the beautiful ladies,” one of them said. “Isn’t that right, McKinney? Just has the magic touch, I guess.”

The other slapped Stephen on the back and the two men chuckled. Old insecurities needled their way in. She started to pull the wrap tighter around herself when she felt Stephen’s warm hand slide under the silk against her bare back. Right there with her, understanding her.

The men moved away and Stephen looked down at her. “How are the shoes? I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”

“They’re beautiful and they’re fine. I wouldn’t have worn them otherwise.”

Stephen brought her fingers to his lips. For a long second they stared into each other’s eyes like there was no one else in the overcrowded room. She had no words when he looked at her like that. Touched her like that. And her nerves went wild again over the possibilities of tonight.

“Sir. Ma’am.” A server interrupted, announcing individual bites of Belgian mousse–filled cake.

They both took one and as soon as the man walked away, Stephen held his up to her lips. His gaze narrowed, brown eyes seemed to darken to the color of the chocolate he offered. “I like watching you eat.”

She opened. Watching Stephen watch her was better than the dessert.

“Good?”

Sweet and slightly bitter, rich and creamy, but she’d rather be tasting him. “Very.” She glanced at the one in her hand. “I guess I have to give you mine now.”

“No. I’ll watch you. Even if it kills me.”

The heat in his eyes when he spoke might kill
her.
“I can share.” She held it up to his mouth. Desire bloomed and spread when his fingers closed around her wrist and he took the chocolate in his lips. Lips she’d kissed, that had kissed her. She almost went up in flames when he sucked her index finger into his mouth.

He drew it out slowly, then smiled, looking extremely pleased with himself. “We could do a lot with chocolate mousse.”

Good Lord. Could he be any sexier?

“Excuse me.” A female voice came from behind her shoulder. “I hate to interrupt.”

A striking woman came to stand beside Stephen, sounding like she was happy to do just that.

“Hannah, this is Blair Sinclair. Blair, Hannah.”

Hannah didn’t notice Stephen’s expression, her full attention on this new woman. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too.” Blair hadn’t finished the words before her predatory gaze was back to Stephen. “I need a moment.”

“I don’t think so. Not tonight.”

“It’s important that I—”

“Go ahead.” Hannah squeezed Stephen’s hand. “I’ll make a run to the ladies’ room.” She gave him another squeeze, assuring him she was fine, and he reluctantly let her go.

Hannah exited the stall and washed her hands at the opulent sink. The bathroom had obviously been modified for parties, with three stalls and a lavish adjoining seating area. A lady joined her at the mirror.

“He is unquestionably the most gorgeous piece of man that ever walked the earth. And I’m sure my imagination of what’s under that tux doesn’t do him justice.” The woman fanned herself dramatically.

“Umm…” It took her a second to realize that the woman swiping on lipstick was speaking to her.

“Of course you’d know. So what’s it like?”

“What’s what like?”

“To be tied to a man like Stephen McKinney? To roll around naked doing the nasty, you know.”

No, she wouldn’t.

“Not that I imagine you’d be tied for long.”

“What?” Their eyes met in the mirror.

“Well, no offense, but I know for a fact that man doesn’t stay tied. Who knows?” She snapped the top back on her lipstick, gave her lips a final check. “Maybe I’ll get a shot with him next. Ciao.” She happily wagged chartreuse nails over her shoulder as she left.

Hannah could only stare at her own reflection.
Doesn’t stay tied for long.
She knew it was true and she’d do well to remember. The last thing she wanted was to get her heart broken, prove her brother right. Could she have a relationship without thinking things meant more than they did? She was new to the game. She wasn’t stupid.

Stephen watched in the direction he’d last seen Hannah. It was crowded. He should’ve gone with her. God, he was starting to sound like her brother, wanting to stand guard outside the bathroom door. Hannah had an independent streak. She wouldn’t appreciate a watchdog.

“So, is that the someone you’re seeing but not dating?”

Stephen thought about how to answer that other than
None of your business
.

“Oh, God, poor girl,” Blair said, taking his silence as an answer. “I hope you don’t crush her too completely. She seems sweet.”

“She is.” And he didn’t want to hurt her. If he couldn’t look her in the eyes as he entered her sweet body, he swore to himself he wouldn’t do it. He’d cut off his dick before he hurt her.

“Relax. She’ll be a while yet.” Blair tossed back a glass of champagne. “Let’s dance.”

Blair’s demeanor after their last meeting was odd. She wasn’t really the forgive-and-forget type. “No thanks.”

“Aww, come on. She can share you for a few minutes. For old times’ sake.”

Curious, and with nothing to do but wait, they moved farther into the room and took the stance. His hand rested lightly on her lower back, hers not so lightly on his shoulder.

Blair was a beautiful woman, objectively he could see that. But he couldn’t remember why she’d ever held any appeal.

“My father’s not very happy with you.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He was struck by a sudden annoyance with everything in the room. The people. The music. The woman in his arms. He wanted Hannah in his arms. Wanted to pull her body against his own, press his nose into her hair. Wanted to look into her eyes, not smoldering like Blair’s, but warm like a fire on a cold night.

“You know that project is important. The money you stand to make is extreme.”

When he’d pulled out of the St. Kitts deal, so did two-thirds of the other investors. Not his problem. It was business.

“Did your father send you to change my mind?”

Blair’s lips curved in a smile meant to tempt and seduce. “Can I change your mind?”

He searched the edges of the room. “No.” How long did it take to go to the bathroom?

Blair kept the hand at his neck planted, fingers digging in, eyes flashing. “You need to get your head on straight. This is important, Stephen.”

No. It really wasn’t. Though there was a time he might have thought so. He looked again. Finally, the one who did matter came into sight between the bodies that swayed and turned around him. And
damn it
—some bastard was slipping his arm around her waist, pulling her against his chest. And Stephen was moving, eyes zeroed in on Hannah, sidestepping bodies as he made his way across the room.

It all happened in slow motion. Hannah jerking back, colliding with a passing waiter. The scatter of glass, a pillar holding a giant flower arrangement tilted and teetered on edge before crashing to the floor.

Son of a bitch!

Blood roared in his ears as he pushed past people. Stephen grabbed the man, who was spewing obscenities at Hannah, and insinuated himself between them. He hit him once, twice, relishing the feel of his knuckles connecting. Gasps and shouts came from nearby guests as the rest of the room danced on.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hannah on the ground. He felt her distress and still, he wasn’t sure he would have stopped if security hadn’t arrived and hauled the guy up and out.

Hannah skated back from the hands of well-meaning strangers, avoiding even his. The wrap had fallen and she frantically grabbed for it, trying to cover the marks on her arms. Her dress bunched up around her legs, exposing the pale purple lines from wounds and surgeries. The obviously intentional markings and patterns on her thighs clear.

“Oh my God.” Blair gasped from where she stood on the fringe of the gathering crowd.

He crouched beside her. “Hannah.” She didn’t look at him, just scooted back farther. Afraid or still not wanting him to see her. Either one tore at him and he struggled to push back the worst of his fury. He had to get her out of here before he came apart. “It’s okay, baby. Come on now. Let’s go.”

Without waiting for a response, he scooped her up and started across the room. The guests gave him a wide berth and he figured the dark emotions must be clear on his face.

The limo ride was quiet. Uncomfortably so. The killing rage boiled so hot inside him, he feared what might come spewing out if he opened his mouth. They sat side by side, his arm tight around her shoulders, Hannah’s body stiff against his. It was all he could do to keep the hand around her relaxed while his other fisted on the seat beside him. He needed to say something. Needed to be a different kind of man.

“Are you hurt?”

“No.” She shook her head quickly. “I’m sorry.”

“For
what
?” He nearly exploded at her whispered words. “For not wanting his hands on you?”

“I overreacted.”

He almost laughed at that, seeing as how he’d lost his shit, but it wasn’t funny. “Hannah. Look at me.”

She stared at her lap. “I know you’re angry.”

He turned, took her face in his hands, and waited for her eyes to meet his. “Hell, yes. I’m fucking mad as hell, but not at you.” He brushed back a few fallen strands of hair from her cheek. “Never at you.”

Damn it
. He wanted to comfort her even as every cell in his body screamed to hurt someone.

Then she laid a hand on his cheek. She gazed up at him, big amber eyes shining with the passing city lights and…he was lost. Amazed and shaken that she could do that to him, for him, he took her mouth hard, tasted chocolate and Hannah. The blood pumping hot through his veins with fury begin to pulse with something else.

“I don’t want anyone’s hands on you but my own. And I’d rather be here.” He caught her lower lip between his teeth. “Doing this.” Without taking his mouth from hers, he pulled her into his lap.

Then in the dark luxury of the limo, he kissed her like he’d been dying to kiss her all night. Maybe forever. She met him, pressed into him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. Their mouths moved, tongues stroked. Everything about the night, everything boiling inside, came down to this second, this woman.

He wanted to cuddle her and at the same time was so hard he was near combustion. Wanted to reassure her and guard her and run his mouth over every inch of her sinfully sexy body. A man who never lost control, always thinking clearly either of the pleasure he was giving or receiving unless he was too drunk to think about anything. But now, with Hannah, he was stone-cold sober and completely lost.

His fingers tightened on her hip and he rested his forehead against hers. “Good God. What are you doing to me?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered, breathless.

No, he thought, catching his own. She didn’t. She had no fucking idea.

He tightened his hold on her and leaned forward to hit the intercom. “Take the long way.”

“Yes, sir.”

His mouth was on hers again before his driver finished the words. He pulled at the shawl she’d had wrapped around her like a shield and went to work on her neck. Focused on the slide of her smooth skin under his lips, the scent of her, the essence that was Hannah.

With a fingertip, he traced the draping neckline that had teased him since she walked out of the bedroom. His hand shook as he eased it down. His heart followed when he revealed her luscious bare breasts.

“I couldn’t wear a bra with this dress.” She moved to pull it up.

He caught her hand. “I’m not complaining.” And to demonstrate, he rolled one hard nipple between his fingers. A sexy sound vibrated through her when he moved to her other breast, this time using his tongue to tease, his teeth to make her wild. At the same time his hand began a slow journey, beginning at her delicate ankle. He shifted, moved higher, circled her knee, and ran his palm over her inner thigh. “So soft. Why are you so soft?”

Her only answer was a sharp inhale as he brushed two fingers along the damp silk between her legs. He thanked God she didn’t pull away. If anything she shifted closer, and he slipped under the barrier until he found her soft, wet heat.

He’d been with plenty of women, had a longtime girlfriend and fiancée, and still, he couldn’t ever remember being so moved. So consumed. He watched her expression change from surprise to pleasure, watched her head fall back on a sigh telling him he was hitting the mark.

With his arm at her back he pulled her up to feast on each breast. He dampened them with his mouth, then blew lightly. Felt them pebble with chills under his tongue. She shuddered and shifted, arched into his mouth, grinding against his crotch until he almost came.

He pictured laying her out on the seat and burying himself inside her. It would be so easy to rip the scrap of silk aside. He could sate this constant ache, drive home to an explosive release in seconds. But no. Her first time wouldn’t be in the back of a limo.
Their
first time. Because it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the last.

Street lights danced and soft music he couldn’t focus on mixed with their heavy breathing. He pressed, hit just the right spot. And even as she clenched tight around his fingers, he drove on until she went limp in his arms. Relaxed. Not a hint of tension.

And, like a miracle, she’d taken his as well.