The Right Time (18 page)

He stalked over to a uniformed attendant. “I’ll take one of those.”

He swiped a glass of dark liquor from the tray and tossed back the liquid, letting the burn course down his throat. Brandy. Just what he needed to shake him out of this funk and give him clarity of thought.

These feelings for Sophie—this craving he had for her—would eventually pass. It had to. Maybe when he returned to Chicago.

He drained the rest of the liquid and finally dragged his gaze away from the object of his obsession.

Focus.

He was here to win over the partners. That’s what he would concentrate on doing for the rest of the evening. He absolutely would not think about how Sophie would be spending the night with Keith. Or that she should be spending the night with him, instead.

Sophie laughed politely at the joke Brit Wong made. Keith’s parents were funny and friendly, and so far she’d felt welcomed at their party. When she’d met them in Chicago and they learned of her three-year relationship with Keith, they appeared surprised that they hadn’t met her before, but almost immediately covered that surprise with smiles and excuses about busy schedules and traveling.

The fact that Keith’s parents knew nothing about her had confirmed that their relationship had never been a priority for him before, a sobering thought that made her review the off-and-on nature of their relationship over the years, the cancelled plans, and, ultimately, Keith’s affair with the waitress.

Her thoughts strayed from the conversation at hand in a search for Ransom’s location. She scanned the room, hoping not to be too obvious, and located him on a sofa near the fireplace, talking with one of the men Keith had pointed out as a managing partner.

“What is it that you do, Sophie?”

Hearing her name dragged her back into the discussion. Suzette Wong, wearing a red designer dress with a bandeau top and a small fortune in diamonds around her neck, waited with an expectant smile on her face, but she hadn’t asked the question. A female attorney who’d joined the small circle, introduced earlier as Myriam and one of the youngest to be up for partner, according to Keith, had inquired after her profession.

“I’m a flight attendant,” she answered.

“Fascinating. Crazy schedule, though, isn’t it?” Myriam asked.

“Starting out, yes. The pay was mediocre and I didn’t have a say in my schedule at all.” Sophie laughed a little at the memory of the early days—barely making ends meet and looking forward to leftover airplane food just so she’d have a meal, sharing a crash pad with numerous other flight attendants to save money, and being on reserve, which made it impossible to make real plans because she could be called in with only two hours’ notice. Those days were long gone, thank goodness. “In the airline industry, seniority is everything, and I’m nine years in now, which means better routes, flexibility in scheduling—which allows me up to ten days off a month if I plan right, yay!—and better pay.”

“She has a degree in chemistry and a masters in marketing, but doesn’t use either,” Keith said.

“Oh, really?” Suzette said.

“I thought one day I’d like to take over my mother’s juice shop and expand it into a chain of stores,” Sophie explained, “but after less than a year, I learned real fast that managing a store wasn’t what I wanted to do. I applied for the job at the airline on a whim because another friend of mine was applying. She didn’t make it. I did.”

“I told her before she needs to use that brain of hers,” Keith said, squeezing her shoulder.

Sophie bristled under his touch. “I am using my brain,” she said evenly.

“Not as much as you could.”

“Are you suggesting that what I do doesn’t require intelligence?”

“Come on, Sophie, you’re a damn flight attendant. You’re not doing brain surgery.” Keith chuckled.

Sophie fought hard to maintain her composure because she didn’t want to make a scene in front of the other three people, but she couldn’t let the comments slide like she had in the past.

“I love my job. It’s important to me. But I’m not
just
a flight attendant. I may not be doing brain surgery, but the safety of every passenger on the aircraft depends on me and the rest of the crew. That’s a huge responsibility.”

His face deflated. “Sophie, I didn’t mean—”

“Maybe it’s not prestigious enough for you, but it’s a job that I love and allows me to travel and meet interesting and exciting people.” She took a deep breath, tamping down the anger. “I have a couple of degrees, but let me clarify to you once and for all about my choices. Yes, there are a lot of jobs available to someone with my background. I could work in quality assurance, toxicology, or even for the government handling chemical health and safety. I could work for the military or for a lab or teach chemistry. My mother could hire me. Those are choices, Keith. Because having those degrees give me something to fall back on. Having those degrees offer me options. Having those degrees does
not
put a noose around my neck and force me into a box so that I have to do something that I don’t want to.”

Keith’s face turned crimson. Myriam’s lips formed a silent
O
and she averted her eyes across the room. Brit raised a brow, while the corners of Suzette’s mouth hinted at a smile.

Sophie clasped her hands in front of her. “If you’ll excuse me.” She was heated and needed to calm down. She left them standing there and went out into the hall.

Sophie found a spot where she could be alone down a corridor that led to a series of guest bedrooms and bathrooms. When she arrived earlier, she had placed an overnight bag in one of the bedrooms. Staying over didn’t seem like a good idea anymore. She couldn’t believe he’d belittled her work in front of other people.

She slipped out to the stone balcony and listened to the night—sounds of cars passing by on the highway, and closer, crickets chirping and the croak of a frog. She inhaled the air filled with the scent of gardenias from bushes lining the long driveway up to the house.

She knew the moment that she was no longer alone. The scent of Ransom’s expensive cologne replaced the fragrance of the flowers. The familiar scent was intoxicating and reminded her of his hands down her pants, wreaking havoc a mere two weeks ago.

“You shouldn’t be out here with me,” she said.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

She ran her fingertips over the gravelly surface of the railing. “There’s nothing to talk about, and it’s inappropriate for us to be standing out here together. Someone might see us and misunderstand.”

“Misunderstand what? We’re two friends having a conversation.”

Friends
. She was starting to really hate that word.

She turned around to see him standing in the open doorway, hands stuffed into the pockets of his tuxedo pants. His eyes stared into hers, and a tingle of awareness ran down her bare arms.

“You’re hiding,” he said.

“I wouldn’t say I’m hiding. I wanted to be alone.”

“That should be my cue to walk away, but…” He strolled out and came to stand beside her, resting his forearms on the stone surface.

Sophie dragged her eyes away from his profile and looked out into the dark yard.

“Still working on your restaurant ideas?” she asked, to fill the quiet.

“Somewhat. What happened in there?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“Come on, tell me. You seemed upset.”

Sophie hesitated, but after a short pause, she recounted the conversation with Keith and how his comment had belittled her work.

“He shouldn’t have said that,” Ransom said.

Guilt pricked her conscience. “And I shouldn’t complain to you about him.”

“Why not? We’re friends.”

“Friends who’ve been more than friendly.”

“I didn’t think you remembered.”

“I want to forget.” Heaven help her, even when she was with Keith, she thought about Ransom and longed for his touch.

“Why?” he asked quietly. Too quietly.

Maybe it was the cover of darkness that made her speak boldly, but Sophie heard herself say, “Because it’s hard to be around you sometimes.”

Yet she yearned to see him. She’d looked forward to tonight because she knew he’d be here.

“It’s hard to be around you every time.”

She swallowed. “I want my relationship with Keith to work.”

“I don’t believe that’s true.”

“It doesn’t matter what you believe.”

“Admit it,” he prodded softly. “Admit that what happened between us was more than sex. In the Bahamas and the other night at my place. Admit that you feel what I do whenever I’m near you. It’s more than attraction. It’s a connection and we’re wasting our time trying to fight it.” He edged closer, and the hairs on her arms stood at attention. “You look amazing tonight.” The back of his fingers trailed down her bare arm.

“Please don’t.” Sophie shivered, stepping away. “If someone sees us…”

“I don’t care if anyone sees us.”

“Well, I do.” When he reached for her again, she knocked away his hand. “This isn’t a game.”

His jaw hardened into a rigid line. “I’m not playing a game. I’ve been telling myself that what I feel will eventually go away, but it hasn’t. My feelings for you only get stronger. When I saw you on Saturdays, I was happy and frustrated at the same time because I knew I’d only get a few hours and then you’d be gone, and another week would pass before I’d see you again.”

His words pricked her heart. “It wasn’t easy for me, either. I was torn.”

“You shouldn’t be torn. You should know what you want. If you tell me you love him, I’ll walk away and not bother you anymore.”

Sophie briefly closed her eyes. “That’s not fair.”

He came closer and cornered her. “Tell me you love him. Say it.”

Her heart thumped wildly. That should be an easy declaration to make.

His head bent toward hers, their lips almost brushing. “Tell. Me. You. Love. Him.”

Sophie stood straighter instead of cowering in the corner. Looking him directly in the eyes, she said, “Leave me alone. It’s too late. You don’t care as much as you’d like to pretend. You’re eventually going to leave here, just like you did in the Bahamas. You let me go. You didn’t come after me.” Her voice trembled, but she stared into his eyes, challenging him with her words.

Ransom stared at her, his chest heaving up and down as if he’d run a marathon. When he didn’t respond, she shook her head in disgust and marched away. The dark corridor welcomed her back into the house, and she walked with purposeful steps away from him, resolving to steer clear of him moving forward.

Strong arms grabbed her from behind. “It’s not too late,” Ransom growled into her neck.

Her heart jumped and she gasped as he dragged her into a bedroom with a slice of light coming in through the window, and slammed the door.

Clutching her face in his big hands, Ransom stared down at her, his eyes brilliant blue stones in the shadowy room. “Never, ever too late.”

He fastened his mouth to hers, lips moving with a hard, sensual promise that dragged a moan from her throat and had her curling her fingers into the lapel of his jacket. He pressed her against the wall and wedged a muscular thigh between hers. One hand smoothed up her leg and gripped a butt cheek.

He ground his hips against hers, simulating sex, the erotic motion of his body sending her reeling into unbridled passion, reminding her of the immeasurable pleasure she experienced in his arms. The spot throbbing between her legs ached for him. His mouth traveled across her arched throat and he sucked on her chin, licking and nipping at her skin with his teeth.

There was only one way this could end, and Sophie wanted it. Wanted him. Desperately. They landed on the bed amid feverish kisses and groping hands, he on top of her as he caressed her hypersensitive breasts through the constricting bodice. He cupped the soft mounds and tweaked her nipples through the material, and a shiver racked her tightened body.

Sophie twisted beneath him as he showered kisses onto her bare neck and shoulder. When his hands reached under the dress, she lifted her hips to aid him in dragging her underwear past her knees, and tossed it aside.

He kissed a path down her body through the clothes, the delicious pressure of his mouth searing as if he touched bare skin, spreading desire to the heated cleft between her thighs. Then he was forcing her legs apart. Strong hands kept them open so he could dive between her thighs, and Sophie let out a loud gasp at the contact, squirming against the intimate probe of his tongue.

She looked down at his dark head and bit her lip at the erotic sight of him fastened to the apex of her thighs. His lips moved with precision over her aching flesh. The wet smack of his lips and tongue sounded in the room as he devoured her. Wet and throbbing, she immediately broke apart. The climax left her trembling, panting, the sound of her harsh intake of breath adding to the crescendo of sexual noises emitted from his lips and throat.

Ransom offered her a brief reprieve, sliding his hands beneath her backside and gently kissing her inner and outer thighs. The added sensations were almost unbearable, and she twisted—a silent, desperate movement to escape him—but he dragged her back.

His lips fastened on her again. This time the gasp she released was louder, harsher—almost a plea for relief. She’d barely managed to catch her breath from the first orgasm. She still ached. Her body still tingled.

None of that mattered to Ransom.

The second time she came, the ripples rocked her harder, like waves pummeling a seashore. Her eyes rolled back. Her fingers clutched his hair as she cried out with a loud voice and only managed to stifle the sound at the end when she bit into her bottom lip. Exactly what he wanted. To make her scream. He wouldn’t have been satisfied until she screamed.

Lifting off the bed, Ransom unzipped his pants. He tore open the condom wrapper and slipped on the rubber. Grabbing her behind the knees, he dragged her to the edge of the bed and entered with ease, the slippery entrance to her body offering not even a shred of resistance.

Sophie closed her limbs around him. What choice did she have, but to hold on tight, fastening her legs around his hips and her arms around his back?