Secrets, Lies & Lullabies Page 4

  “Come on,” he invited, tipping his head toward the French doors and the balcony beyond.

  He left her to follow—or not—but was pleased when she did. Even more pleased that it seemed to take her no time at all to decide. No sooner had he turned and started walking than she was on his heels.

  Though Jessica had arrived while it was still light out, the sun had long ago slipped beyond the horizon, leaving the sky dark and star dappled. A slight breeze chilled the evening air, but nothing that required jackets or would hinder them from enjoying being outside for a while.

  Moving to the stone balustrade, he set down the two glasses, then turned, leaning back on his rear and crossing his arms over his chest. As large as the Mountain View resort was, and as many guests as he was sure were in residence, the wide balcony that ran the entire length of his suite was completely private.

  Tall, waffle-patterned trellises protected either side from the balconies beyond. He didn’t know what the lodge did about them in the dead of winter, but at this time of year, they were covered with climbing flowering vines, creating a natural barrier to sound and sight.

  When Jessica came close enough that he could have reached out and touched her, he uncrossed his arms and reached behind him instead. “Your wine,” he offered in a low voice.

  She took it, raising it to her mouth to sip. For long minutes neither of them said anything. Then she moved to the low chaise longue a few feet away and carefully lowered herself to its cushioned seat.

  Her skirt rode up, flashing an extra couple of inches of smooth thigh. More than he’d been able to see while she’d cleaned his rooms in that frumpy gray uniform. A shame, too, since she had amazing legs. Long and sleek and deliciously toned.

  He had the sudden urge to sit down next to her and run his hand along that silken length. Even through her stockings he wanted to feel the curve of her knee, the sensitive dip beneath, the line of her outer thigh and the perilous trail inside.

  Alex sucked in a breath, his mouth gone suddenly dry.

  When was the last time he’d been this attracted to a woman? Any woman?

  He’d had affairs, certainly. A few relationships, even. At one time, he’d dated a woman long enough to consider marrying her. He hadn’t loved her, not really, but it had seemed as if it might be the right thing to do. The most sensible next step, at any rate.

  He was no stranger to lust, either. He’d been with women who’d caused it to flare hot and fast. But to the best of his recollection, he’d never been with a woman who stimulated his libido and his brain both at the same time.

  Oh, it wasn’t as though he and Jessica were waxing poetic about astrophysics or the effect of global warming on penguins in Antarctica. But that was just the point: he’d had those discussions—or similar ones, at least—with certain women without a single erotic nerve ending tingling to life. Just as he’d found himself burning with passion and rolling around on the sheets with others without a single intelligent thought passing between them.

  And then there was Jessica Madison. Nearly anonymous housekeeper at a resort he’d only decided to patronize a week and a half ago. If he’d booked a suite at the downtown Hilton instead, as had been his first inclination, he never would have bumped into her.

  Damned if he wasn’t glad they’d been booked up and someone had recommended Mountain View as a second choice. This dinner alone was worth every penny of the added expense and every extra mile it took to get into downtown Portland for his scheduled meetings.

  Jessica wasn’t just lovely to look at, but entertaining, too. Not only conversationally but in her silent self-assurance.

  The hair and jewelry choices were the physical aspects of that, he supposed; a way to tell the world without words that she knew who she was and didn’t care what anyone thought of her or how she lived her life. But whether she realized it or not, her body language conveyed the same message.

  Once she’d spotted those crab cakes and decided she wanted them, it had been difficult to draw her attention away from the plate. And when he’d told her she could have them all to herself, she’d set about eating them as passionately as an artist struck by sudden creative inspiration.

  No worries about how she’d looked or what he might think. Which wasn’t to say she’d been a ravenous wolf about it. Her table manners had been flawless. But she’d enjoyed her meal the way he enjoyed a quick bout of neat, no-strings lovemaking.

  And there it was. Sex. No matter where his mind started to wander when he got to thinking about this woman, it always seemed to circle right back around to S-E-X.

  It didn’t help that she was stretching now, lifting her legs onto the long seat of the chaise and leaning back until she was nearly sprawled out like a virgin sacrifice.

  Blood pooled in his groin, heating, thrumming, creating a beat in his veins that matched the one in his brain. Pa-dump. Pa-dump. Pa-dump. His heart, his pulse and his head kept the same rhythm, one that he could have sworn was saying, Do it, do it, do it.

  He was very afraid “it” could be defined as something ill-advised. Like kissing her. Touching her. Taking her to bed.

  Indulging in another sip of wine, Jessica let out a breathy sigh and crossed her legs—those damn tempting legs—at the ankle. She rested her arms on the armrests and her head back against the chaise.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve been doing all the talking and not letting you get a word in edgewise.”

  Something he’d noticed, but certainly hadn’t minded. He’d much rather listen to her speak than himself. On his best day he was a man of few words, and his only response now was to arch his brow and lift his own wine to his mouth for a drink.

  “So…” she prompted. “Tell me about yourself. What do you do? Why are you in town? How long will you be staying at our fine establishment?”

  “How long will you be making my bed and restocking my wet bar, you mean?” he retorted with a grin.

  She chuckled, the sound filling the night air and doing nothing to quiet the pounding in his blood, his head, his gut.

  “I don’t stock the bars,” she told him, returning his grin. “They don’t trust us near the pricey liquor—because they’re afraid we’ll either steal it…or drink on the job.”

  He laughed at that. “I might be tempted to drink, too, if I had to clean up after strangers all day. Especially the kind who stay here. I imagine a lot of us come across as quite demanding and entitled.”

  She shrugged a shoulder. “It’s not so bad. For one thing, I don’t usually have to interact with you demanding, entitled types. Most of the time the rooms are empty when I clean, and I get to work alone. The pay could be better—and for rich people, you guys sure can cheap out when it comes to tipping—but I like my coworkers, and the view is stunning when I get the chance to stop and actually enjoy it.”

  He inclined his head. “Duly noted. In the future, I’ll be sure to leave a generous tip anytime I stay out of town.”

  “Every morning before you leave your room,” she clarified, “not just the day you check out. Shifts change, and the same maids don’t always clean the same rooms every day.”

  As hard as he tried, he couldn’t completely hold back the hint of a smile. She was a pretty good advocate for her fellow service workers.

  “I’ll remember that. Have my tips so far been acceptable?” he asked, half teasing, half genuinely curious of her opinion.

  She slanted her head, thinking about it for a minute. Then she shrugged a shoulder. “You’ve been doing well enough. And tonight’s dinner definitely makes up for any corners you may have cut.”

  “Glad to hear it,” he drawled.

  “You never answered my question,” she said after a moment of silence passed. The only sounds in the growing darkness were the muted voices of guests far off in the distance, perhaps strolling along one of the lodge’s moonlit paths, and the occasional chirp of crickets.

  “Which one?”

  “Any of them. All of them.” She uncro
ssed her ankles only to cross them again the other way. “Just tell me something interesting so I won’t feel like I monopolized the conversation tonight.”

  “All right,” he replied. Pushing away from the stone barrier, he strode toward her, dragging the second chaise closer to hers one-handed and sitting down on the very end to face her.

  “My family is in jewelry. Gems and design. Maybe you’ve heard of us—Bajoran Designs?”

  Her eyes widened. “You’re Bajoran Designs?”

  “I’m one of the Bajorans of Bajoran Designs,” he clarified. “As much as I might feel or wish otherwise at times, it isn’t a one-man operation.”

  “Wow. Your jewelry is amazing.”

  “You’re familiar with it?”

  “Isn’t everybody?” she retorted. “Your ads are in all the magazines, and on TV and billboards everywhere. Didn’t you design a bracelet for the Queen of England or something?”

  “Again, I didn’t, but our company did.”

  “Wow,” she repeated. And then her head tilted to one side and she raised a brow. Her lips curved. “I don’t suppose you have any free samples you’d like to share.”

  The sparkle in her eyes told him she was teasing, but he wished suddenly that he had more than just a few proposed design sketches with him. He wished he had a briefcase full of priceless jewels surrounded by exquisite settings to regale her with.

  He would love to see her draped in emeralds and platinum or diamonds and gold. Earrings, necklace, bracelet, perhaps even a small tiara to tuck into those mostly blond curls.

  He could think of any number of his companies’ designs that would look stunning with what she was wearing. But he imagined that they’d look even better on her while she was utterly naked.

  Naked in his bed, her skin alabaster against dark sheets, her hair falling loosely about her shoulders. And at her lobes, her throat, her waist…maybe her ankle, too…his jewels, his designs, in essence his marks lying cool on her warm, flushed flesh.

  The picture that filled his head was vibrant and erotic and so real, he nearly reached out to touch her, fully expecting to encounter nothing but the blessed nudity of a gorgeous and waiting female.

  Arousal smacked into him with the force of a freight train late to its final destination. His fist closed on the wine in his hand, so tight he was surprised the glass didn’t shatter. Every muscle in his body turned to iron, and that most important one—the one that desired her most of all—came to attention in a way that made its wishes clearly known.

  Sweat broke out across Alex’s brow and his lungs hitched with the effort to breathe. Jessica was still staring at him, the amusement at her teasing about the jewelry slowly seeping from her eyes as she realized he wasn’t laughing.

  She probably thought she’d insulted him. Or come across as a gold digger. The difference in their stations—her minimum wage chambermaid to his multimillionaire business tycoon—was patently obvious, and something he supposed she hadn’t forgotten for a minute. Add to that the fact that he felt ready to explode, and he probably looked like Dr. Jekyll well on his way to becoming Mr. Hyde.

  Forcing himself to loosen his grip on the wineglass, he concentrated on his breathing. Relax, he told himself. Breathe in, breathe out. Don’t scare her off before you have a chance to seduce her.

  And he was going to seduce her. He’d been attracted to her from the moment they’d first met, which, of course, meant he’d thought about sleeping with her about a thousand times since. But thinking about it and making a conscious decision to go through with it were two different things.

  He hadn’t realized until just this minute that he was going to make a move on her. He was going to kiss her and do his best to convince her to go to bed with him.

  Pushing to his feet, he leaned across to set his wine on the wrought-iron table that had been between the two chaises. He locked his jaw and cursed himself when she jerked at his sudden movements. His only hope was that he hadn’t frightened her so much that he couldn’t smooth things over. Seducing a woman on the first date could be hard enough without adding “acted like a jackass” to the mix.

  “Sorry,” he said in a low voice, hoping the single word would be suitable as a blanket apology. And then in answer to her earlier question, “I don’t have any samples. I’d need a 24/7 armed guard to carry that kind of merchandise around with me.”

  At his friendly tone, she seemed to relax. And when she did, he did.

  “If you like, though, I can arrange a tour of our company. You can see how the pieces are put together, watch some gems being cut, maybe even catch a peek at a few designs that haven’t been released yet. You’d have to come to Seattle, though. Think you can get the time off?”

  If he’d expected her to be impressed, he was sorely disappointed. Her expression barely changed as her tongue darted out to lick her lips.

  “That’s all right,” she said, instead of “Oh, wow, that would be awesome!” “I was just joking. I could never afford anything of yours, anyway. Better not to tempt myself.”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her he’d gift her with a piece while she was there. He’d never done anything of the sort before, never even been tempted. Yet suddenly he didn’t want to just imagine her covered in his family’s fine jewelry, he wanted to literally cover her with it. Throw it at her feet like a humble servant making an offering to the gods. Diamonds, emeralds, opals, sapphires… Whatever she wanted. As much as she wanted.

  He wasn’t sure exactly when he’d become such a weak-kneed sycophant. He’d certainly never given women jewelry before; at least not easily or as willy-nilly as he was envisioning doing with Jessica.

  To be honest, he wasn’t sure he liked these feelings and the lack of control she seemed to evoke. It was the number one reason he thought he should probably call it a night and get as far away as possible from this woman.

  That would be the smart thing to do, for certain.

  So why didn’t he?

  Desire? Lust? Sheer stupidity?

  But rather than thank her for coming and seeing her to the door, he held out his hand, indicating that she should give him her wineglass. When she did, he set it aside, then held out his hand again, this time inviting her to take it. He was equal parts surprised and relieved when she did so without a hint of reservation that he could detect.

  Her fingers were cool and delicate. For a moment he savored the simple touch, not letting himself ruin it by imagining more just yet.

  Then he gave her a tug, urging her to the edge of the chaise. A second tug pulled her to her feet.

  She came into his arms as though she was tied to him and he was drawing on the string that bound them. Another step and she was pressed to his chest the way he’d wished she could be earlier.

  Her blouse was silky against his palms and the front of his own dress shirt, her breasts rubbing just enough to give him ideas and get the blood pumping hot and thick to his groin once again. He held her there, enjoying the feel of her, stroking his hands up and down the line of her spine.

  To his great delight she didn’t pull away, but sank into him even more, her breath blowing out on a soft sigh.

  With one hand at the small of her back, he brought the other up the length of her arm and the side of her throat until he cupped her jaw, his thumb brushing along the baby-soft curve of her cheek.

  “I want to kiss you,” he told her in a low, graveled voice, “but I’m afraid you’ll think I’m moving too fast.”

  Afraid he was moving too fast and that he would scare her off. Afraid that this overwhelming need he felt for her wasn’t normal, wasn’t the typical interest he felt when he was in the mood for a one-night stand.

  “Did you notice my hair?” Jessica asked in little more than a murmur, reaching up to finger a few strands of blue.

  His brows knit. What did her hair have to do with anything?

  Still, he answered, “Yes.”

  “And my ears? My brow?” She flicked her wrist at both.


  “Yes,” he said again, more confused than ever.

  “These are not the piercings and hairstyle choices of a girl who scares easily.”

  For a second, he didn’t move, didn’t dare breathe while her words sank in. Then a slow smile spread across his face.

  “No,” he murmured, even as his head lowered toward hers. “I guess they aren’t.”

  Five

  The minute Alex’s lips touched hers, she was lost.

  She knew this was a mistake. Everything was, from the moment she’d stepped into his suite tonight, to letting her guard down over wine and a moonlit stroll onto the secluded balcony. Maybe even before that, when she’d recognized him and not gone running, or when she’d agreed to her cousin’s ridiculous scheme.

  It hadn’t been easy to sit still and pretend she didn’t know who he was, but it had been somewhat enlightening to listen to him talk about himself and his business. Knowing what she did about him—namely that he’d stolen a portion of the company out from under her family—she would have expected him to be proud, arrogant, boastful.

  Instead, he’d been humble, speaking highly of Bajoran Designs, but not taking any of the credit for the company’s success for himself.

  She thought that might have been when her head had started to go fuzzy and stars had formed in her eyes. Her skin had been flushed with heat, too, but that was nothing new; that was just part of the attraction that had flared to life as soon as she’d walked into his arms.

  She shouldn’t be kissing him…or rather, allowing him to kiss her. It was a worse idea than agreeing to dinner with him, but she just couldn’t seem to help herself.

  The entire time they’d been talking, all she’d wanted was to cross the balcony and lay a hand on his chest. To see if it felt as hot and hard as it looked. And then to touch his mouth with her own to see if he tasted as delectable as she imagined.

  The good news was, his chest did feel as hot and hard as she’d thought it would. Better, even, pressed up against her breasts and her belly.