His to Claim (9 page)

“You’re hesitating.” He reached forward and took her hand, then stroked her wrist.
“That makes me think maybe I do have a shot with you.”

He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm, sending tremors through her.

She knew she should pull her hand away, but she was mesmerized by his touch.

“Hell, no!”

Her head jerked around as she saw Rafe barreling into the restaurant, his nostrils
flaring.

Rock Hard

Melanie sucked in a breath as Travis glanced around at Rafe marching toward the table.
Travis winked at Melanie, then turned back to Rafe again.

“Hey, man. What’s with the suit?”

“Screw that. Keep your hands off Melanie.” Rafe now stood beside Travis, glowering
down at him.

Travis shrugged. “I don’t see Melanie complaining.”

Rafe grabbed a handful of Travis’s shirt and dragged him to his feet, then glared
him straight in the eye. “I said … Don’t. Touch. Melanie.” He spoke with clenched
teeth, sparks flaring from his eyes.

Melanie was aghast. She’d never seen Rafe behave this way.

A waiter hovered in the background, looking uncertain, and the other diners sent nervous
glances their way.

She pushed herself to her feet. “I’m not going to sit here while the two of you act
like children.” Then she strode from the restaurant without a backward glance. In
her peripheral vision, she saw Rafe release Travis’s shirt, but as she walked along
the sidewalk away from the patio, she heard angry male voices. Then she turned the
corner and they were lost in the noise of the traffic and passersby.

It thrilled her that Rafe was so possessive of her. But it also made her angry.

Storming into the restaurant as if he owned her. Whatever they had between them was
tentative at best. He had admitted that he didn’t want a relationship right now, so
he had no right to scare men away from her.

*   *   *

The next morning, Rafe raked his fingers through his hair, the newspaper laid out
in front of him on his desk. Just his luck that someone had taken pictures of his
confrontation with Travis on their cell phone.

“I thought you could use this.” Jessica walked in the open door of his office with
a steaming cup of coffee in her hand. She set it down beside the paper and smiled.
“Really? Fisticuffs?”

He sipped the hot coffee as he stared at the picture of him slugging Travis in the
face. “Who says fisticuffs?”

She laughed. “Okay. Murderous rampage then.”

“Jess, if I were in the mood for jokes, I’d laugh, but right now…” He sat back in
his chair and groaned.

She leaned against his desk. “Look, I think it’s sweet that you got jealous and punched
my brother out. Having grown up with him, there were many times I wanted to do the
same thing.”

He glanced at her in surprise. “You’re not mad?”

“No.” She smiled. “But I do think it says you have feelings for Melanie.” She rested
her hand on her chest. “Which I think is sweet. Especially since I know she’s sweet
on you. Have you told her how you feel?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know how I feel.” Jessica should know more than most. He’d believed
he was totally in love with her, and she had felt the same about him, but in the end
they both realized it was Dane she was meant to be with.

She pointed at the paper. “Really? You’re sticking with that?”

He scowled and pushed the paper aside. “Damn, what a shitstorm.”

The headline read,
SAVAGE, BUT NO KISS
, then the article talked about how Rafe Ranier, head of the huge conglomerate Ranier
Industries, confronted lead singer of the band Savage Kiss. It went on to reveal the
fact that Rafe was also Storm, popular guitarist with the band, though they didn’t
have all the facts straight.

“I hear Dane isn’t too thrilled with you. He’s set up a few meetings with key business
partners to discuss the article and ensure they aren’t uncomfortable with a rock musician
being one of the executives at Ranier Industries.”

“Great, so I’ve disappointed my brother, punched your brother—”

“And given him some great press.”

“None of that matters.” Rafe rubbed his hands over his face. “Not when I’ve disappointed
Melanie. She stormed out of the restaurant and I doubt she’ll even talk to me again.”

“She might be annoyed,” Jessica said, “but I’m sure she’ll talk to you again. Especially
if you tell her how you feel.”

*   *   *

At a knock on her apartment door, Melanie put down her magazine and walked across
the room. She peered through the peephole to see Storm standing on the other side
of the door. Her heart leapt at the sight of him, but lingering annoyance still remained.

She pulled open the door. “Hello.”

“Hi,” he said with a sheepish smile, then held up a bouquet of flowers. White roses
and a stem of pink lady slipper orchids.

She took the flowers and breathed in the delicate scent of the roses. “They’re lovely.
Thanks.”

“May I come in?”

She nodded and stepped back. He came in and closed the door.

“I’ll go put these in water.”

Storm followed her into the kitchen, where he watched as she grabbed a vase from the
cupboard over the sink and filled it with water, then cut the ends off the stems before
she put the flowers into the vase.

“Melanie, I want to apologize for yesterday.”

“Apologize for what exactly?” It was great that he wanted to make amends, but was
he just apologizing in general, or did he understand what he’d done wrong?

“Trick question, right?” He gazed at her, as if seeking a clue to what she was looking
for. “I’m sorry I interrupted your lunch with Travis, and that I started a confrontation
with him. And I’m sorry I hit him.”

Surprise rocked through her. “You hit him?”

“I take it you haven’t seen the newspaper today.”

“It was in the paper?”

Storm sighed. “Yeah. It seems someone took pictures on their cell phone. I guess it
was a slow news day.”

“Or they thought their audience would be interested in an executive from a huge company
getting in a fight with a rock musician. I bet your brother isn’t too happy with you.”

“True.”

“Oh, I guess Jessica isn’t either, since it was her brother you hit.”

He shrugged. “She seemed to think he probably deserved it.”

Melanie laughed despite herself. “Is Travis okay?”

“Yeah. I didn’t mark that pretty face of his.”

“That’s good.”

At Storm’s sharp sidelong glance, she could tell his jealousy was as strong as ever.

“So back to your apology, which wasn’t sufficient.”

“Why not?”

At her frown, he said, “Huh.” Then he scratched his head. “Uh … could you help me
out here?”

Damn. Men never got it.

“You want to apologize for not trusting me.”

He leaned back against the counter. “That’s the whole thing, isn’t it? It’s not just
that I didn’t trust you. It’s that there was no reason for you not to take Travis
up on whatever proposition he made, because…” He shrugged. “I told you I wasn’t ready
for a relationship right now. And that meant we had no commitment.”

He pushed away from the counter and stepped toward her. Maybe he wasn’t so clueless
after all.

He stood in front of her and stroked back a strand of hair behind her ear. Her skin
tingled at the gentle caress.

“I was a fool.” He cupped her cheek. “And I don’t want to lose you.”

She watched, mesmerized, as his face approached hers. His lips brushed hers, lightly
at first, then more firmly as he drew her close to his body. She wrapped her arms
around his neck and melted against him, his kiss igniting her inner need.

When he drew back, his sky blue eyes questioning, she smiled.

“So, Mr. Ranier, are you asking me to go steady?”

He grinned. “That’s exactly what I’m asking.”

*   *   *

Melanie finished putting on her mascara and gazed critically at her face in the mirror.
The dark kohl around her eyes, along with the muted earth-tone shadows, made her green
eyes look bigger, and the blush gave her pale cheeks a soft flush of color.

She glanced at the clock. It was time to go.

As much as Melanie had wanted to fall into bed with Storm after his apology last night,
she’d had plans with friends she couldn’t change, so he’d promised they’d do something
special tonight. He’d offered to take her to a fancy restaurant with dancing and maybe
a show, but she’d told him she would rather be with him somewhere they could be alone.
He’d smiled and suggested dinner and a movie at his place.

She ran a brush through her long, dark blonde hair, then walked through the living
room, stopping to take a sniff of the lovely roses before grabbing her sweater from
the front closet and heading out the door toward the elevator. Moments later, as soon
as she pushed open the lobby door, she saw the black limo waiting for her. She stepped
outside into the warm evening air.

“Melanie, hi. I was coming up to get you.” Storm stood a few paces ahead on the sidewalk.
He walked alongside her the few steps to the car and the chauffeur opened the back
door.

Storm followed her into the limo and settled in the seat beside her. He wore his jeans
this evening, but with a black button-up shirt rather than a T-shirt or tank top like
she’d usually seen him in as Storm. It was a nice compromise between Storm, the rock
guitarist and Rafe, the businessman.

Of course, no matter how he was dressed, he still revved her engine. She could lean
into his arms right now and ravage those full, sexy lips of his.

He glanced toward her and smiled. “What are you thinking about?” His eyes glittered.
“Me, I hope.”

She stroked her finger along the placket of his shirt, from the neck to the second
button, which was open, revealing a hint of the tattoos on his chest.

“I’m looking forward to getting to your place.”

He nuzzled her cheek. “If you were to keep looking at me like that and we had more
than just another two blocks to go, I’d say we wouldn’t make it to my place.”

She laughed and turned her face up, then brushed her lips against his. His arms went
around her and she melted against his solid chest as she explored his mouth.

Then the car slowed down and pulled up in front of a tall building. As the chauffeur
got out of the car, Storm eased away, then the back door opened and she climbed out
of the car. She walked with Storm toward the glass doors of the building in front
of them. A doorman opened the door for them and they stepped into the air-conditioned
lobby. It was lovely, with cream marble floors and walls, a sitting area of leather
couches and tables, and lots of huge floral arrangements. The ceilings were off-white
with crossed beams, and a section of the wall was covered in stacked slate, contrasting
nicely with the shiny marble.

As his secretary, Melanie had arranged for the care of Rafe’s apartment when he was
gone, everything from having the place cleaned regularly to someone watering the plants,
but she’d never been here. They stepped into the elevator, and Storm pushed the top
button, then entered a code on a keypad beside it.

“Your apartment building is beautiful.”

He shrugged. “I like it.”

He slid his arm around her and she smiled as the floor numbers flickered by. The elevator
doors opened onto a bright, spacious penthouse apartment. The dark hardwood floors
of the entryway gleamed in the light from the setting sun cascading in from the huge
windows. In the living room, bright accent cushions in red, orange, and yellow added
a nice contrast to the beige leather and dark wood furniture. The bright colors were
carried through the artwork and flowering plants, adding a warmth and flair to the
space.

“I didn’t realize it would be this huge.” She pulled off her shoes, then walked across
the decadently plush carpet to stare out the window at the stunning view of the city
cascaded in the golden light of the sunset.

He gestured to the couch facing a big fireplace. “Sit down and I’ll get you a drink.
Champagne?”

Her gaze flicked to his. “Really? Are we celebrating something?”

He smiled. “Just being with you.”

He took a bottle from an ice bucket on a stand and popped the cork without waiting
for her response, then he poured the bubbly liquid into a delicate flute and handed
it to her.

She sipped, the tingly bubbles tickling her nose.

Her eyes widened.
So this is what nirvana tastes like.

Clearly, she’d never had really
good
quality champagne before. As wonderful as this was, drinking fantastic champagne
while sitting in this luxurious penthouse, having ridden here in a chauffeur-driven
limo, it left her feeling unsettled. Rafe was totally used to this lifestyle. He’d
never had to worry about money, and even though he’d spent a year living out of a
backpack, he knew he had money if he ever needed it. Not like her. She had to worry
about bringing in enough money to make the next month’s rent.

As fun as it was being with Rafe, it was startlingly clear that they came from entirely
different worlds.

“What are you thinking about?” Storm asked.

She smiled. “Oh, nothing important.”

Her phone buzzed and she pulled it from her pocket to check the incoming text.

“It’s from my mom. She wants to know if I can make it home for Dad’s birthday next
month.”

“That’s nice. Are you going?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I don’t know if I can justify the cost of the trip.”

“You’re really on a tighter budget with the new job I take it.”

She shrugged. “A little.” Actually, a lot, but then freedom had its cost.

“What does your mother think of you working as a barista?”

“Are you kidding? She’d freak out if she knew I’d quit my job at your firm. She was
so proud of me for being an executive assistant at a big company, with a stable job,
regular hours, and with benefits.”