Beauty and the Beast (19 page)

“Baby.” He reached for her hand that still held the condom.

She barely had time to roll their protection onto him before he grabbed her by the waist, flipped them both over, and entered her. She cried out in ecstasy as he penetrated her. She held onto his firm buttocks and helped increase the force of the strokes.

Gazes locked, she was sure she’d never see a more beautiful sight than the love and desire that burned in his eyes. Short of breath, she felt herself tighten around him. “Bruce!”

“Umm, that’s it, baby.”

 
Vision blurred and hearing muted, she floated between the worlds of real and surreal.

“Nefer… Nefff!” His body shook with his release. He descended on her lips and silenced the soft, sensual cries coming from her as she reached her climax.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“W
ake up, baby,” Bruce whispered into Nefertiti’s ear. “I need to get ready for work.” He shook her for the sixth time.

Mind groggy, mouth cottony, she smacked her lips and pushed him away. “Stop shaking me.” She cracked her eyes open and spotted a pillow on the carpet next to the mattress. “Hand me that fluffy thing as you leave.” After a night of making love, they’d showered, then crashed on his mattress.

“No can do, babe. Janis is very efficient. A cleaning crew will be here any minute.”

“Aw, man, I thought you loved me.”

“I do.” He pulled her up as he stood. “That’s why I let you sleep in. Now do you want me to carry you to your bed in the state you’re in, or would you like to dress first?”

“You wouldn’t.”

Though still naked, he picked her up and stalked toward the door. She laughed and scrambled to get down. “You are crazy!”

“And your point?” He bent over to retrieve her yellow negligee and gave her a view that had her ready for a repeat of last night’s performance. “Here you go.”

She slipped into the satin, but wished he were slipping into her.

A wicked grin tipped his lips. “Come here.”

Someone knocking at his door stopped Nefertiti in her tracks.

“Mr. Maxwell… It’s… . It’s Rachel.”

“Aw hell! What?” He pulled Nefertiti into his embrace. His hardness rested against her belly.

“I’m sorry to wake you, but… umm, Miss Janis told me to let you know the cleaning crew is here… And umm—”

“Out with it, woman! Damn!”

“Sh—she said you need to turn your phone back on.”

Nefertiti heard Rachel run away from the room. “You’ve scared that poor child to death. Stop being so mean to her.”

“Janis sent her up here to start getting her used to me. I’m not changing, so she can deal with it or leave. I wanted to make you scream again, but I guess I should get ready for work.” He brushed his lips over her forehead. “Get together with Janis to make the wedding arrangements.”

“Bruce.” She stepped out of his embrace. “Listen carefully. I can’t marry you—”

“What!” he interrupted. “Aw, hell naw!”

“Let me explain.”

“Explain? What the hell is there to explain? I don’t know about you, but what we shared last night was more than just sex for me.” He picked up a chair arm from the left over debris on the floor and paced.

Nefertiti kept her voice calm and quiet. “I can’t marry you because—”

“No! I’m sick of this.” He smacked his hand with the arm of the chair. “You can screw the hell out of me, but marriage… Oh you couldn’t dare lower your standards to marry this beast. You’re no better than the rest of them. Why don’t you go cower in the corner with them?”

She stalked up on him and poked him in the chest with her finger. “Now who’s projecting? This is stupid. When you’re ready to have a grown up discussion about my reasons, you know how to find me.”

He grabbed her wrist. “For years I thought I wasn’t good enough for you, but now… now I can see you are the one who isn’t good enough for me.”

“And I see you’re nothing but a spoiled brat. If you don’t get your way, you throw a tantrum.” She snatched the arm of the chair from him. “You’re almost forty. Grow the hell up, Bruce.” She stalked out.

“Nefertiti!”

“Would you please pass the syrup?” Catherine asked her father. She and Roy had arrived in Phoenix, Arizona, last night. Their parents lived in a three-bedroom ranch home in an upper middle-class retirement community.

“Here you go.” He handed her the syrup, but did not take his stormy blue eyes off Roy. He crossed his arms over his chest and continued to stare. Though well into his sixties, he didn’t look a day over fifty. His full head of thick silver hair, the envy of all the men on the golf course, was the only feature giving any indication of his age. Tall with a medium build, he walked three miles a day to stay in shape.

“Thank you.” She’d asked for the syrup to help break the tension. They hadn’t mentioned Bruce’s takeover attempt of Dixon Textiles, thought obviously Henry Dixon already knew. Catherine looked to her mother for assistance in diffusing the situation. Karen had also aged nicely: her silver hair was cropped short, her slender figure didn’t sag anywhere and her sparkling brown eyes were filled with life.

Karen smiled and clapped her hands together. “It’s so nice to have my babies home.” Henry grumbled. Karen continued as if he hadn’t made a sound. “I just thank the good Lord for giving to us so abundantly. I’ve been watching the relief efforts for those poor people in Illinois. They’ve lost everything.”

“Oh come on, Karen, they have insurance,” Henry said without taking his eyes off his son. “They’ll rebuild just as they have every other time tornadoes hit. And my tax dollars will be wasted to help them do it. What amazes me is they choose to live in tornado valley. This is bound to happen again.”

Roy shifted in his chair and forked the eggs on his plate.

“I’m not talking about property, Henry. As you’ve so eloquently pointed out, property can be replaced. But yesterday the news interviewed this poor woman who lost her son. He was ripped from her arms and died from his injuries.” She placed her hand on Roy’s. “I don’t know what I’d do if my baby boy couldn’t come home. Yes, I thank the Lord for giving to us so abundantly.”

Henry’s facial features and body language softened as he watched his wife hug Roy. Catherine always marveled at the way her mother handled their father. She’d be willing to lay odds her mother was the reason Roy had received twenty-five percent of Dixon Textiles. Her mother always strove to give to her babies equally.

Henry released a long drawn out breath, then turned his attention to Catherine. “How much of the company has Maxwell acquired?”

“Thirty-eight percent.” She nervously sucked her bottom lip.

He dragged his hands over his face. “I’m sorry, honey, but…” He shifted in the chair. The pain she saw in his eyes added fuel to her hatred of Bruce. “You know the mill hasn’t been very profitable in years. I can’t outspend Maxwell.”

Deflated and defeated—two ways she never thought she’d see her father. Yet another reason to hate that monster Bruce Maxwell. An awkward silence filled the room. Regret filled her.
I should have handled this on my own.

Henry’s soft touch on her cheek broke her out of her musing. “Your mother’s right. Property isn’t important. Possessions aren’t.”

“But, Daddy, the mill is my life.”

 
“I blame myself for that.” He sighed and withdrew his hand. “You’re barely thirty-five, beautiful, intelligent and personable. The mill should not be your life.”

Panic raced through her. Why didn’t her father understand that Dixon Textiles was more than a possession to her? She’d nurtured and cared for the company as though it was were her baby. How could he give up without a fight?

Roy smacked the table as he stood. “How can you say that shit, Dad? Catherine has worked her ass off for you. And now you’re turning your back on her!”

One thing Catherine could always count on was Roy coming to her defense. If she could adjust his protective streak to kick in before he did things to ruin her life instead of after the fact, she’d be good to go. In this instance, she wished he’d back off. “I’m not asking for money. I just need you to call in a few favors from your friends that still hold stock in the company. Roy can pay 110 percent of the value of the stock,” she added in hopes of appeasing Roy so he’d feel he was protecting her and remain quiet, “but no one is returning my calls.”

Chest puffed out, Roy crossed his arms. “Yes, I have the money. I just need your connections, Dad, so I can help Catherine.”

That backfired,
Catherine thought.

“If I’m not mistaken,” Henry said calmly, “you’re the reason for this whole fiasco, so don’t expect me to be impressed by your belated show of loyalty.”

Karen tugged on Roy’s shirt. “Please sit.”

Face reddened, Roy yanked the chair from under the table, then retook his seat.

Henry faced his daughter. “Of course I’ll make the calls. I’ll do whatever I can to set things straight.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”

“Are you all right?” Karen crossed the bedroom to her husband. Initially, the thought of moving from a thirty-room home that sat on twelve acres of land to a seven room house that sat on a half acre hadn’t appealed to Karen. Everyone knew her in Dixon, but in Phoenix, she was just another wife of a retiree. Adjusting her way of thinking had taken time, and now she wished they’d moved away sooner.

Henry leaned against the frame of the open sliding door. “I’m worried about them.” He held his hand out for Karen. “I’ve failed them both.” He pulled her into his embrace.

“You’re a wonderful father.”

“Then tell me why my daughter is working herself to death and my son is allergic to work. Neither extreme is what I wanted for them. But Catherine…” He drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. “At least Roy realizes life is there to live. He knows joy.”