Billionaire's Contract Engagement (10 page)

C
elia entered her office with a heightened sense of anticipation. She already knew she’d be clock watching until it was quitting time and then she’d race home so she could change and look her best for her naughty escape to Evan’s.

Her mouth curved into a naughty smile to match the naughtiness of her and Evan’s plan. It was wicked, forbidden, and she was so turned on that she was ready to fidget right out of her shoes.

With a sigh, she sank into her chair behind her desk, kicked off her shoes and logged on to catch up on e-mail. She hadn’t planned to go out for lunch at all and had, in fact, brought food from home, planning to eat at her desk. After missing Friday, she’d spent the morning getting a report from Jason on her client meetings he covered and then she’d gone through messages.

She groaned as her in-box stacked up with e-mail after e-mail. She started at the bottom and worked up, deleting several after cursory glances. Those requiring a lengthy
response she flagged to respond to later and the ones she could just do a one-line response to she typed furiously and sent on their way.

She was nearly to the end when her gaze flickered over the name Lucy Reese. She did a double take. Evan’s mom? Why would she e-mail and how had she gotten Celia’s address?

Her stomach fluttered a bit, and guilt crept over her all over again. Lucy was nice and Celia hated lying to her. She hated lying as a rule for any reason but especially not for such a frivolous endeavor.

She braced herself and clicked on the message. It began as cheerfully as Lucy herself was in person. She said again how thrilled she was that Celia and Evan had found each other.

Talk about another shot to the gut.

She expressed her desire to see Celia again and hoped Evan would bring her to Seattle for a visit.

Could this get any worse?

Her message ended with a short note that she’d attached some pictures from the wedding that she thought Celia would enjoy.

Celia opened the attached JPEGS and couldn’t help but smile. The pictures were of her and Evan at the wedding reception. They looked happy and…in love.

There was one of them dancing, another of Evan looking down with a tender expression and the last was when Evan had kissed her. Celia’s hand rested on his chest and the glitter of the ring contrasted with the black of Evan’s tuxedo. Their mouths were fused together, and it was obvious to anyone looking at the picture that they were in danger of combusting right there in the middle of a crowded reception.

For several minutes, she debated whether or not to reply to Lucy’s e-mail. It seemed rude not to, but it was also a terrible thing to prolong the charade.

Finally, she settled for a brief thank you and that she’d enjoyed meeting Lucy, as well. It was true and didn’t delve into any part of her nonexistent relationship with Evan.

Stealing over to the man’s hotel room after work hours certainly couldn’t be considered a relationship.

Her intercom beeped, startling her from her thoughts.

“Celia, I have a cleaning service willing to take over Noah Hart’s house.”

“Brave,” Celia muttered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Do you have details on when they’ll start? Can you e-mail me that and the agency name and contact info so I can forward it?”

“Sure.”

There was a distinct pause and then Shelby’s hesitant voice filtered through the intercom.

“Sooo, are you going to give me the dirt on Noah Hart? Like how you know him and why you’re arranging his maid service?”

“No,” Celia said shortly.

She punched the button to end the conversation and hoped Shelby would get the hint. True, Shelby liked to gossip but she wasn’t overtly intrusive. She backed off when people wanted her to.

She checked her e-mail and then forwarded the information to Noah. After closing her e-mail program, she stared at her phone and sighed. Noah was a disaster when it came to e-mails. The man just didn’t care about advanced methods of communication. If it couldn’t be said on the phone or person, he wasn’t much interested. It drove his agent nuts. Simon Blackstone much preferred the impersonal methods of e-mail and text messages to actual conversations, but if he wanted to talk to Noah, he had to pick up the phone. Celia was convinced Noah did it just to torque his agent’s jaw.

At any rate, she’d better call and leave a message on Noah’s cell or God knows what the cleaning lady would come across when she went to his house.

She’d hit the end button after leaving him a nagging, sis
terly message when it hit her square in the face that she had neglected to mention the game to Evan.

How could she be so stupid? With everything else that had gone on in the weekend, the game had slipped her mind. Even when she’d done the pitch and specifically dangled the Noah carrot in front of Evan’s nose, she’d flaked on the season opener.

He was probably already booked solid, if he was even going to be in town. The game was the night before her scheduled pitch session and he’d probably just fly in on the morning of their meeting.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she muttered.

Would it be crass to mention it tonight? During their little sex getaway? If she wanted to get him in front of Noah in a casual setting, then she was going to have to move fast and hope he hadn’t locked up his week already with other obligations.

She looked up when a knock sounded at her door. Brock stood against the door frame, a smile easing the newly developed lines at his eyes and mouth.

“Hey, we wanted to get together at Rosa after work today. You’re the star and we want to toast with copious amounts of alcohol. It will be a good pep rally for the presentation on Friday.”

Her stomach rolled into a tight ball. The last thing she wanted was a raucous night at Rosa with the work gang. Usually she’d be all over it. The Maddox employees regularly hung out at the upscale martini bar just a block away. It’s where they met to celebrate, commiserate or just take a break from a hellish workday.

The last celebration they’d staged there had been for Jason after he’d landed the Prentice account. Now Brock was lining up the chorus for her.

Her cheeks tightened in pleasure even as her heart sank at the idea of ditching Evan after agreeing to meet him. He’d
think her the worst sort of coward even if it was the smart thing to do.

“I’d love to, Brock, but I already have plans for the evening. Important plans,” she added after a pause. “Besides, I’d rather not jinx myself before going into the presentation. It’s not in the bag—yet—but I certainly plan to perform a slam dunk on Friday.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I understand. We’ll go and just call it a pre-planning session. It’s as good an excuse as any to throw back a few. But if you land this, just be prepared for a victory celebration to end all victory celebrations.”

She grinned. “Oh, you know it. I can’t wait. I’ll totally hold you to it.”

“Okay, take care and see you tomorrow.” He turned to go but stopped and turned back once more. “Oh, and, Celia, if I haven’t already said it, thank you. You did a magnificent job. I doubted your approach at first, but you came through in spades.”

Her heart sped up and she curled her fingers until her nails dug into her palms. It was all she could do not to stand up and throw her arms in the air complete with an obnoxious yell.

“Thank you for your trust,” she said as calmly as possible.

With a short salute, he disappeared down the hallway, leaving Celia grinning like a loon.

Promptly at a quarter to five, Celia headed down the elevator—fifteen minutes before quitting time so she’d miss the majority of her coworkers. She didn’t want to explain why she wasn’t joining them at Rosa.

Her apartment wasn’t far, and usually she’d enjoy driving her Beamer with the top down—it really was a sassy, smooth handling dream machine—but today she was just impatient to be home, and the traffic was driving her mad.

When she reached her apartment, she recognized the car out front and the driver standing on the curb beside it. With
a groan, she slowed to a stop on the street and rolled down her window.

“I’ll only be a moment,” she called.

The driver smiled, tipped his hat and said, “No hurry, Miss Taylor. Take your time.”

She maneuvered into her parking spot and dashed inside, ready to do battle. She hadn’t missed Evan’s reaction to her sexy, feminine lingerie. It was her one indulgence or what she deemed a silly indulgence since her sex life was so staid in the last few years that no one but her had a prayer of ever seeing what her underwear looked like.

Hopping on one foot as she stepped out of her clothing, she went over to her drawer to find the most sinful set of lingerie she owned. She settled on pink. What was more feminine or soft looking than pink? Even growing up with a hoard of boys hadn’t erased the girly from her. And since she was a redhead, wearing pink clothing wasn’t an option. But pink underwear she could do.

Unsure of whether she’d return to her apartment before going to work the next day—and she did like to be prepared for anything—she threw an outfit into an overnight bag along with her toiletries and a lavender bra and panties.

She did a quick check of her messages and then did something she never did. She turned off her BlackBerry and tucked it into her overnight bag. Tonight was hers. She needed no reminders from the business world. If she was going to indulge in fantasy, she was going whole hog.

She locked up and hurried out her door to the street where the driver waited. He ushered her into the backseat and they drove away into traffic.

It amused her how exciting she found the whole experience. She could be a mistress at the beck and call of her über-wealthy benefactor, discreetly bundled into a private car and rushed to meet him at an undisclosed location.

“Get it together, Celia,” she muttered.

Lord, but she did lose all her brain cells when it came
to this man. If she wasn’t careful, she’d throw away all her independence and start greeting him at the door every evening, wearing a kitchen apron with oven mitts and a piping-hot casserole dish.

Oddly but the image wasn’t all that distasteful. For the first few seconds anyway. She laughed outright and it had the effect of someone popping her thought bubble with a sharp pin.

The driver looked up in the rearview mirror, and she valiantly tried to look back with a straight face. If he only knew the absurd thoughts she was processing.

If she was truly the naughty girl of her fantasies, she would have ridden over with only a trench coat covering her sexy lingerie. Then when she walked into Evan’s room, she could discard the coat and watch his reaction.

The idea certainly had merit, and if she ever received another invitation such as tonight, she’d give it serious consideration.

A few minutes later, the driver pulled up to the sumptuous hotel Evan resided in when he was in town, bypassed the main entrance and stopped at the second pull in where her door was immediately opened by one of the hotel staff.

Maybe Evan had his own entrance. The thought amused her, but then he had so much money, it wouldn’t surprise her.

She was immediately met by concierge and was handed a keycard.

“Mr. Reese wishes for you to go right up,” the older man said.

She blushed from head to toe. She knew well what it looked like. Like she was some hooker or mistress—precisely what she’d imagined on her way over—all set to have a clandestine meeting.

She took the key card, murmured her thanks, and shot past the doorman and into the small hallway leading directly to the elevators. Thankfully she bypassed the lobby entirely. It
seemed like everyone in the world knew what she was here for.

In the elevator, she inserted her key and punched the button for the top floor. She was whisked to the top in no time at all and stepped into the eerily quiet hallway. There were only a few doors. The rooms must be huge because she only counted four doors total. Evan’s was on the very end, and she took a deep breath before inserting the key into the slot.

When she opened the door and stepped inside, she immediately saw Evan standing across the room, drink in hand, his eyes fixed on her. He’d been waiting. She could sense his impatience and see the triumph in his expression when she closed the door behind her.

She stood there, unmoving, as he put his drink aside and crossed the room in just a few, long strides.

“You came,” he murmured.

He swept her into his arms and kissed her. He wasn’t gentle or even particularly careful. Their bodies came together in a clash she felt all the way to her bones.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” she asked when she was finally able to draw a breath.

His eyes glittered, and his throat worked up and down as if he was trying to hold on to his control.

“If you hadn’t, I was prepared to go and drag you out of your apartment.”

All her concerns fell away. Nothing else mattered but the intense need they felt for each other.

“Next time I won’t come. I have my own set of caveman fantasies wherein the Neanderthal drags me off to his cave.”

He growled low in his throat and before she could react, he had her in his arms and was striding toward the bedroom.

T
hey made it as far as the dresser. Evan slid her onto the polished surface of the wood and leaned in until she straddled his hips.

“I swore this time I’d savor first,” he said against her mouth. “Dammit, but when I see you, all reason flies out the door.”

She hooked her legs around his back and pulled him into the V of her groin.

“Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?”

“Never a woman,” he murmured as he swept hungrily over her mouth.

Her excitement mounted as Evan ripped at her shirt. He shoved it down over her shoulders, trapping her arms to her sides. His hands smoothed up her bare skin to her shoulders. He gripped her so hard, she knew she’d wear his prints.

His breath blew hot over her chin and then her jaw. He kissed a line to her ear then sucked the lobe between his teeth.

Shivers overtook her. Delicate little goose bumps dotted her flesh until she trembled uncontrollably.

He stepped back, his hands falling to the waistband of her pants. His fingers hung in the snap and he stood there staring at her heaving chest.

“You’re so beautiful.”

He raised one finger to hook in the strap of her bra. He ran it up then down, and he grazed the tip over the swell of her breast.

“I love the lingerie.”

She leaned back on the dresser, resting her palms on the top to give him a better glimpse of her cleavage.

“You’re absolutely merciless, aren’t you?” he murmured.

She smiled and arched invitingly until the barest hint of her nipples peeked at him over the lace cups of her bra.

He wrapped both arms around her waist and lowered his mouth to the valley between her breasts. He kissed and nibbled at the plump swells until she gasped and struggled for each breath.

The straps had loosened and tumbled down her shoulders. He slid his palms up her body, hooked his thumbs in the straps and dragged them back down.

He tugged until finally one cup slipped down and freed her breast. He licked the nipple until it puckered and strained outward. Then he closed his mouth ever so gently around the tip.

“Evan,” she whispered as her hands tangled in his hair.

He sucked softly and then with more pressure until her entire focus was the streaks of pleasure radiating from her nipple.

Clumsily, he yanked and fumbled with the clasp of her bra until it fell completely free. He shoved it aside and focused on unbuttoning her pants, his mouth never leaving her breast.

He lifted her hips. She hoisted herself up, giving him room to pull her pants down. They fell to the floor and he took a step back and ran his gaze up and down her body.

She felt beautiful and desirable. Even irresistible. He ate her with his eyes. Appreciation didn’t adequately describe what she saw in his gaze. This was a man who saw only her. There were no other women.

“I can’t say I ever fantasized about having sex with a woman on top of a dresser, but I’m re-evaluating. I can see the appeal.”

She wiggled a little closer to him so that she was perched on the edge. Right now she wanted him so much, even the short distance to the bed seemed too much.

He tucked his finger underneath the lace of her panties and ran it along the edge until he delved into her hot, liquid heat. She leaned back, closed her eyes and moaned as he grew bolder with his exploration.

The sensation of his hands rasping lightly over her behind as he cupped her and began to slide her underwear off was enough to drive her beyond endurance. She had to have him. Her nerve endings were fried.

And then she was naked under his seeking gaze and inquisitive fingers. He stroked and caressed until she was a mass of gasping, breathless anticipation.

“No fair,” she panted. “You still have clothes on.”

He gave her a faint smile before quickly shedding his clothing. Then he dropped to his knees in front of the dresser. His hands slid sensuously up her legs, setting fire with the barest of touches.

Her breath caught and held when he parted her thighs and pressed his mouth to her most intimate flesh.

“Oh…”

It was all she could manage. Everything went fuzzy around her. Swimming. She was swimming in the most exquisite, mind-numbing waters she’d ever navigated.

The man was talented. He was generous. Even when he was pushed to his limits, he brought her to the brink of ecstasy before satisfying his own needs.

“Evan, please!”

He rose up, gripped her knees and yanked her forward until she perched precariously on the edge of the dresser again. There was savage menace in his expression, the look of a man pushed too far too fast and struggling to hold on with everything he had.

He paused only long enough to roll on a condom and then he found her center and plunged deep.

His hands slid under her bottom, gripped tight and pulled her to meet his thrusts. He was deep and she felt him in every part of her soul. She ended, he began. He was a part of her, taking, giving and sharing.

He leaned forward to bury his face in her neck as he rocked against her. Lightning sizzled down her spine as he nuzzled her sensitive skin and suckled the column of her neck.

She wrapped her arms and legs around him until there wasn’t an inch of space between them. Still buried tightly inside her, he lifted her up and backed toward the bed. He fell, her on top, and they landed with a jolt.

“Ride me,” he said in a strained voice.

His pupils dilated and his brow constricted. Tight lines were etched into his forehead, and his hands gripped her hips so tightly that she could do nothing more than squeeze her inner muscles around his erection.

“Sweat heaven,” he groaned.

She wasn’t going to last, and she was helpless to do anything about it. She needed to move. She had to move.

Placing her palms flat on his chest, she wiggled free of his grasp and began to move up and down, taking him, releasing him, then taking him again.

Sweat beaded his brow. His eyes were narrow slits, and he never took his gaze from hers. He urged her closer so he could cup her breasts. They filled both palms and he rubbed the pad of his thumb over the painfully erect nubs.

“I can’t hold on,” she whispered.

“Then let’s go together,” he urged.

His hands left her breasts and he gripped her hips, lifting
her and pulling her down in time with his upward thrusts. The burn spread. Tension mounted. She wound tighter and tighter until it was all she could do to hang on.

She threw her head back, her mouth open in an endless cry of agony. The sweetest, most breathtaking agony of her life.

His hands left her hips to tangle in her hair. He rose up, pulling her harshly to meet his kiss. Frantically, his hands moved up and down her back, into her hair, through her hair, over her face as if he couldn’t get enough and wanted to memorize every feature.

And then it was as if the world went silent. The wave rolled, crashed and then broke into a million tiny ripples, each feeding the other.

She was no longer cognizant of holding on to him. She was riding high and fast.

She had no idea how long she lay sprawled over Evan, her heart beating so frantically that she literally felt each thud. His arms were wrapped around her, and their legs were all tangled up. He was still buried inside her, and she could feel the remnants of his orgasm. Each little pulse sent a tiny shock of aftermath flooding through her body.

Slowly she became aware that he was stroking her back and her hair. He murmured little sweet words in her ear but nothing seemed to make sense. She was completely befuddled by this man, by her reaction to him.

“I think I blew it again.”

She smiled and snuggled a little closer, tucking her head under his chin and nuzzling his chest.

“You blew, all right. But I think I blew first.”

His chest heaved as he chuckled. “You’re such a naughty girl.”

Summoning energy she sorely lacked, she raised her head and propped up on his chest so she could stare down into his eyes. What she saw sent a pang of longing straight through her heart.

He looked content. Sated, but not just in a sexual way. He
looked at home, like they’d been together forever. Oh, she had an overactive imagination. She was sure of that. But when he looked at her like that, with the world in his eyes, a world where only she existed, it was hard not to get caught up in the fantasy they’d created between them.

He ran a gentle finger over her mouth. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m fairly certain a man should never ask a woman what she’s thinking right after sex,” she said lightly.

“I’m fairly certain all women like to talk after sex. Well, talk and cuddle, or some girly thing like that.”

She grinned and leaned down to kiss him. “I like the cuddle part.”

He gathered her in his arms and rolled until they lay on their sides. “Not a talker, huh?”

She reached down and carefully rolled the condom off him. He put his hand down to stop her.

“No, I’ll do that. You don’t have to mess with it.”

But she already had it off. She kissed him again then scooted off the bed to discard it. When she looked back, he was propped on one hand, watching her intently.

His naked body was a gorgeous sight. Even in a relaxed state, his proportions were generous to say the least.

“If you keep looking at me like that, it’s not going to stay down,” he growled.

“You only have one condom?” she asked in mock horror.

He reached over, grabbed her arm and yanked her back down beside him. “I’ll have you know, I had a case delivered.”

She snorted with laughter. “A case? Are you planning an orgy?”

“I may have exaggerated…slightly. But only slightly,” he said with a sly grin.

“That’s good to know. I’d hate to think I was under that kind of pressure.”

He tweaked her nose then followed up with a kiss. “Somehow I think you could hold up quite well.”

She cuddled deeper into his embrace. She hadn’t lied about the cuddling part or the talking part. Well, maybe about the talking part. In truth, she’d love to bare her soul, learn all his secrets, tell him all hers. Tell him how much she loved…

She froze. For a moment she simply couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t as if she’d just fallen in love with the man. No, it had probably been coming for a while now. But she hadn’t admitted it. Hadn’t even thought it much less said it aloud.

Yeah, it was there in the background just waiting for the time when she let it slip in. She’d been so good—or so she thought—about keeping her emotional distance.

She loved this man. Her heart seized. It was a painful admission. Wasn’t figuring out you were in love supposed to be accompanied by fireworks, a fanfare, a giddy thrill? Wasn’t it supposed to be the most wonderful thing in the world?

Why then did she have the sudden urge to run to the bathroom and throw up?

“We have options,” Evan said.

She blinked and focused her attention back on the here and now and the fact she was in bed after hot, sweaty sex with the man she…loved.

It was all she could do not to groan.

“What options?” she asked huskily.

“I can feed you. I can make mad, passionate love to you again. Or we can take a short nap and then do either option one or two. Or both. See? I’m easy.”

She smiled and squeezed him. She did love him. It scared her to death just how much she loved him, and now that she’d admitted it, she was flooded by so much emotion. It was all she could do not to blurt it out like some teenage girl with her first crush.

“Am I staying over?” she asked. She hadn’t wanted to assume, but she needed to know before she started choosing options.

He leaned up and cradled her so he looked down at her. “Of course. That is, if you want to. If you didn’t bring clothes to go to work in, I can have my driver take you home.”

She swallowed. “I did bring clothes. But if he takes me to work, I’m without a car. It would probably be best if he did take me home early enough for me to get my car. I can dress here.”

He looked for a moment like he’d say something but then evidently he thought better of it and didn’t push. She wondered what he’d wanted to say, but like him, she didn’t push.

“All right. I’ll make sure we get an early enough wake-up call for you to shower and get ready here before he takes you home to get your car.”

Unable to resist, she kissed him. It wasn’t a playful little peck this time, but a warm, deep kiss that showed without words the depth of her feelings.

When she finally drew away, his eyes were glazed with passion, but there was also contentment that she didn’t want to speculate about.

“In that case, I vote we go with eat, mad passionate love and then sleep,” she murmured.

“Sold.”

A half hour later, they sat cross-legged on the bed, devouring the room service Evan had ordered. She was swallowed up by one of his robes, and he was wearing a pair of boxer shorts.

She ate indelicately, with her fingers, foregoing the utensils. It was finger food anyway, and it was too scrumptious to be all highbrow about eating it.

They were nearly done when it hit her that she still hadn’t broached the subject of the baseball game. Where before she’d felt a little awkward about bringing it up during what was obviously an illicit rendezvous, here with Evan, she was completely at ease.

“Tell me your plans for the rest of the week. Are you returning to Seattle until our presentation on Friday?”

He cocked his head and studied her intently. “That depends, I suppose.”

“On what?”

“On whether I have a reason to stay.”

Her cheeks warmed. His meaning couldn’t have been more clear. Her mouth suddenly went dry and she gulped a mouthful of water.

“I meant to invite you to the Tide season opener. I have tickets. Good tickets. Are you interested?”

He looked a little surprised, and for a moment she wondered if she’d overstepped her boundries. But then he smiled. A genuine, warm smile that told her he was pleased with her invitation.

“I’d love to go. It’s Thursday night, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “I could pick you up and drive us over.”