RILEY STOOD outside in the late afternoon. He’d canceled his last two meetings with the intent of going for a drive. But instead of heading up the coast or even south to L.A., he’d traveled a short distance across town to find himself parked outside of Gracie’s rental.
He knew she was home-her Subaru Forrester sat in the driveway and he could hear music. As he stood beside his car, he stared at the front door and wondered when he’d left the world of normal behind.
There were a thousand other places he could be and a handful he should be, and Gracie’s house didn’t fall into either category. She was nothing but trouble-not the way she used to be by stalking him and making his life hell. No, this trouble was worse. He liked her.
He enjoyed her company, her humor, her craziness and right now he wanted to be with her in every sense of the word.
He told himself he was only here to talk, that she wasn’t his type and he was a man who was cautious about where he laid his head. He’d always been careful to pick women who were content to be part of the three F’s. Gracie wasn’t like that.
If he had a brain in his head, he would walk back to his car and drive away. Instead he stepped forward and pressed the doorbell.
“Just a sec,” she yelled from somewhere inside the house.
He heard something slam, some mild cursing, then running footsteps and the front door flew open.
She stood in front of him with a smudge on her cheek and a dish towel in one hand. She’d pulled her hair back in a ponytail. Her T-shirt fit snugly, emphasizing curves that haunted him, while her slightly loose khakis hung low on her hips. She was barefoot, not wearing a speck of makeup and he wanted her with a hungry desperation that made it impossible to speak.
She grinned. “Thank God you’re not my mother or one of my sisters. I’m all familied out right now. I can’t even tell you the forty-seven ways they’re making me crazy.”
She stepped back. “Come on. I have a cake in the oven and I have to turn it every ten minutes to keep it baking evenly. I know, I know, I could have gone back over to Pam’s but I was there before and she was actually nice and it kind of freaked me out.”
She shut the door behind him and led the way into the kitchen. “So what’s going on with you?”
The sway of her hips called him. He wanted to grab her, pull her close and take her right there in the hallway. He wanted to tug the rubber band from her hair, pull off her clothes and have her on top, wet, ready and panting his name as she demanded he give her more.
“I wasn’t in the mood to work,” he said instead. “Thought I’d stop by.”
They reached the kitchen. She bent over the oven, pulled it open and used the dishcloth to protect her fingers as she gave the large cake pan a quarter turn.
“I appreciate the company. Oddly enough, you’re the most normal person I know these days. Who would have thought?”
She straightened and walked to the refrigerator. “Do you want anything to drink? I have soda and milk and some sparkling water.” She glanced at him. “Let me guess-macho guys don’t drink sparkling water.”
“Not unless we open it with our teeth first.”
“Figures.” She held up a can of soda. “This okay?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
He glanced around at the small kitchen. Even though she was a short-term tenant, she’d still made the space her own. There were cake pans and racks covering the space. She’d tacked up sketches of cakes, a calendar and the article from People magazine. The small table held all kinds of delicate-looking tools he couldn’t identify.
The room felt lived in, comfortable. No ghosts here.
He settled on a bar stool by the counter and took the drink she offered.
“What terribly important meetings are you missing out on?” she asked as she set the timer for ten minutes.
“One about the direction the Federal Reserve will probably take. A recap on our lending ratios. Banking stuff.”
She leaned against the counter across from him. “Are you enjoying being a banker? It has to be different from living on the oil rig.”
“Shorter hours, and everyone smells better.”
“That has to be nice. But do you find it interesting or boring?”
He frowned as he popped open his soda and took a drink. “I never thought about the banking job as more than something I had to do to inherit.” When he’d either satisfied the terms of the will or failed, he was walking away.
“Would you consider it as a career?”
“Maybe. There are aspects I like.” He loosened his tie, then unfastened the top button on his dress shirt. “The clothes can be a pain.”
“I know what you mean. I like baking days when I don’t have to get all fancy for my meetings.” She glanced down at her T-shirt and brushed a smudge of flour. “When I’m in the kitchen I make sure everything is washable. I seem to be the kind of baker who has a lot of accidents with ingredients.”
He could smell her. Something soft and feminine that had nothing to do with the sweet scent of baking cake. Need nearly drove him to his feet, but he pushed it down and did his best to ignore it. After all this time, Gracie had turned out to be an unexpected pleasure in his life. They were friends, and he wasn’t about to screw that up with sex.
“My secretary keeps pressuring me to give money for the new children’s wing of the local hospital. She suggests it be in my uncle’s name, which I’m not willing to do.”
Gracie tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and glanced at the timer. “Give the money at all or give it in your uncle’s name?”
“I don’t want anything named for him.”
“Then give it someone else’s name. Or no one’s. Why do wings always have to have names?”
“Good point. I may do it just to get Diane off my back. The woman defines stubborn.” He picked up his soda and grinned. “There’s a reason to give to charity.”
“I doubt the hospital board will really care what drives you to donate. I think they’ll just be happy to cash the check.” She tilted her head. “Where exactly does the money come from? You don’t have the inheritance yet, do you?”
“Thinking of asking me for a loan?”
“If I remember correctly, it was ninety-seven million dollars. If you had that kind of money, I’d be more on the lookout for a grant rather than a loan.”
“Fair enough. This money comes from the bank. A certain percentage of profits are earmarked for charity.” Riley couldn’t escape the irony of his uncle being willing to give millions to charity, but leaving his own sister to die.
“And you get to pick where they go? That’s kind of cool.”
“Diane does most of that. I sign the checks.” He smiled. “I have to admit, she’s someone I wouldn’t mind taking back to my other business with me. Talk about efficient.”
“The other business being your partnerships in the oil business.”
He nodded. “We have over fifty rigs now.”
She straightened just as the timer dinged, then walked to the oven and rotated the cake. “Amazing how you left here with nothing and did so well. That’s pretty cool. Your mom would be really proud of you. Did she know you were a success before she passed away?”
“Some. I sent her money when I could.” Not that it had been enough. If only, he thought grimly. If only he hadn’t still been angry at her for making him marry Pam. If only she’d told him the truth. If only he’d come back.
“So you’re already rich,” Gracie teased as she closed the oven and turned back to him. “That kind of makes you really attractive.”
He shook his head. “You’re not into guys with money. If they have it you won’t say no, but otherwise you don’t care.”
She stared at him. “How do you know that?”
“Am I wrong?”
“No, but we’ve never talked about it. You barely know me.”
“I know enough. Besides, I married someone who wanted my money. I learned to recognize the signs.”
“Makes sense,” she told him. “So now you keep your wealth a secret?”
“I never get close enough for them to know. As far as the women in my life are concerned, I’m just a guy who works on an oil rig.”
“Women?” She raised her eyebrows. “Like a herd?”
“My own personal harem. But I’m always open to new applicants.”
“As intriguing as that sounds, I’m not very good in a crowd.”
He agreed. She was a woman who wanted a conventional life. “So why aren’t you married with three kids?”
“I really only want two. Maybe a dog. I don’t know. I never met the right one.”
“Dog or guy?”
She laughed. “Guy. I’ve dated, I almost got engaged. Most of them were really nice men. Smart, good jobs, dependable.”
“But?”
“It’s dumb and ridiculous.” She stacked several dirty bowls together then carried them over to the sink. “I want…sparks. You know? That wild, chemical attraction. I want my stomach to clench when the man in my life touches me. I want to hold my breath when the phone rings in case it’s him.”
“Passion.”
She wiped her hands on a towel. “Exactly. I haven’t felt that before. Plus, it’s slightly possible that I might have some trust issues, given my whole family situation.”
“Your mom sending you away.” He stood and walked around the counter. “My dad walked out on me when I was a kid.”
“So you know what I mean.”
He stopped in front of her. “We could be on Oprah,” he said, staring into her blue eyes and wondering how it was possible for them to be such a beautiful color.
“Or Dr. Phil. I’m sort of addicted to him.”
They were close enough that she was all he could think about. Her mouth beckoned and tempted, her body seemed to sway toward him. The kitchen crackled with electricity. When her eyes dilated, he knew she felt it too.
“Oh,” she breathed. “But this was supposed to be a bad idea.”
“It still is.”
“But it’s why you came over.”
Was it? He hadn’t consciously thought about it, but she could be right. “Tell me no and I’ll go away.”
“Just like that?”
He nodded.
She looked at him for a long time, then reached up and rubbed her thumb against his lower lip.
“What is it about good women and bad boys?” she asked softly. “You’re a kind of a temptation I’ve never had to resist before.”
“Do you want to resist?”
Did she? Gracie wasn’t sure she had an answer. Of course not being able to think was part of the problem. With Riley standing so close, staring at her as if he wanted her more desperately than he’d ever wanted any other woman ever, she found herself melting inside.
Her body ached. Every inch of skin longed to be touched by him. She wanted to feel him against her, in her. She wanted to lose control and take him with her. She wanted them both aroused, desperate, helpless in the face of their desire, then she wanted to be with him afterwards, when they touched and kissed in the wonderment of what they’d just done.
Of course this was Riley whose philosophy with women didn’t exactly lend itself to tenderness. Was she prepared for him not sticking around? Was she prepared to be part of the three F’s?
He lightly stroked her cheek. The soft brush of his fingers shouldn’t have been all that exciting, but she felt her body respond to the flash of what could only be described as sparks.
And then she knew it didn’t matter about after or what the neighbors would say or her past or his. Because the Riley she’d wanted fourteen years ago had been little more than a cardboard cutout. She hadn’t known enough to make him real. While the man in front of her was pretty spectacular.
“You’re going to hurt yourself with all that thinking,” he said. “Look, Gracie, if you have to talk yourself into it, I’m not interested in-”
She raised herself on tiptoes and pressed her mouth to his, effectively cutting him off in midsentence. The hand by her cheek dropped to rest on her shoulder, but otherwise he didn’t move.
Ah, so he was going to make her prove to him she wanted this. That was fine-she was more than up to the challenge.
As she moved her lips against his, she grabbed his shirt and pulled it free of his slacks. Even as she stroked her tongue against his bottom lip, she slipped her hands under the shirt and rubbed them across his belly then up his chest.
She was prepared to do more-a lot more-to convince him, but it turned out to be unnecessary. His mouth parted and he claimed her in a kiss so deep, she thought she could get lost in it forever, even as his arms came around her and hauled her hard against him.
Her hands were trapped between them, but that didn’t matter. Not when his tongue stroked hers, circled, danced and caused the sparks to explode into a whole fireworks show. He was warm and strong and when she shifted her hips, she found out he was already hard.
Instantly her stomach clenched, as did her thighs. Between her legs she felt both heat and dampness. Wanting exploded.
She pulled her arms free and moved her hands around to his back. She was still under the shirt so she could feel his bare skin. Muscles bunched as she moved over them. She slipped lower to his hips then his butt where she gently squeezed the tight, high curve.
Oh, yeah, this was good, she thought hazily as he surged against her. She rotated her pelvis, bringing herself more firmly in contact with his erection. Desire flowed hotter and faster.
He pulled back a little and lowered his head so he could kiss her neck. He lingered at the sensitive spot below her ear, nibbling and licking until her entire body tingled. He reached for the hem of her T-shirt and tugged at it. She released him long enough to let him pull it over her head.
When he’d tossed the garment aside, he stared into her eyes. She looked back at all the passion swirling in his and felt herself surrendering more.
“I want you,” he breathed as he set his hands on her waist and began to move them higher.
Anticipation swelled within her. Her breasts ached, her nipples tightened. Touch me, she screamed silently, but what she said was, “I want you, too.”
“Yeah?”
As he asked the question, he brushed his thumbs across her nipples. Sparks moved past fireworks and became an entire electrical storm. She arched her head back and silently begged him to do more, to never stop, to keep-
He bent down and took her nipple in his mouth. Even through the fabric of her bra, she felt the heat and moisture, the light grating of his teeth. She clutched at him, as much to keep her balance as to hold him in place. He couldn’t stop. Not ever. It felt too good.
He reached for the two hooks on the back of her bra. When it slid down her arms, she released him long enough to shove it away. Then he was back, his mouth on her bare flesh and it was all she could do not to scream.
“Oh, yes!” she moaned, eyes closed, breathing shallow.
He circled her nipple, then sucked on it. He caressed the other breast with his fingers. It was incredible. No better. It was need and heat and wanting all merging and growing until she could only gasp with the pleasure.
She ran her fingers through his hair, then over his shoulders. Suddenly she wanted him naked. She wanted to touch him.
“Riley,” she whispered as she reached for the button on her khakis. “Take your clothes off.”
She liked that she didn’t have to ask twice. He straightened and immediately went to work on his shirt. After unfastening the cuffs, he simply pulled it over his head, tie and all. He kicked off his shoes, pulled off socks, then dropped his trousers and boxers in one easy movement.
She’d managed to shed the rest of her clothes and enjoy the view for all of three seconds before he moved in and claimed her with a kiss that stirred her down to her soul. They clung to each other, holding, rubbing, reaching, grasping.
He started nudging her backward. She couldn’t stop kissing him to figure out where they were going. Then his hand was on her breast and it didn’t matter.
She reached between them to caress his arousal just as she felt herself bump into the table.
Riley leaned around her and swept the surface clean. Pans and racks went flying to the floor. The crash of metal on tile reverberated in the room, but she didn’t care. Not when he lifted her up onto the smooth wood of the table and positioned himself between her legs.
She opened herself wide for him, expecting him to claim her that minute. Instead he slid one hand behind her head and the other into the swollen wetness of her desire. His fingers found that one spot she liked best and began to circle it.
“Look at me,” he said when she would have closed her eyes. “I want to see if you like it.”
She smiled. “I like it a lot.”
“Yeah? What about when I do this?”
He gently squeezed his thumb and index finger around the sensitive flesh, moving up and down in a quick motion that took her breath away.
Speech became impossible as she lost herself in sensation. Her body tensed as liquid pleasure poured through her. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but stay impossibly still and silently beg him to never stop.
He didn’t. He kept on touching her until her release became as inevitable as the tide. She slowly closed her eyes, then held on to his shoulders as she got closer and closer until-
He stopped. She opened her mouth to protest. She’d been seconds from-
He kissed her. At the same moment he claimed her mouth, he pushed deep into her, replacing his fingers with something far larger and more impressive. She groaned, then wrapped her legs around his hips to hold him in place.
Even as their tongues mated, he moved in and out of her. She felt his thickness rubbing her, pushing her already aroused body past any reasonable limit to that place where pleasure is the only possibility. She clung to him, wanting, needing, straining until at last she lost herself in the wildness of her climax. Muscles contracted, released, then contracted again. She gasped as it went on and on. He continued to fill her, getting harder and thicker until at last, when she’d nearly finished, he shuddered and pushed into her one last time.
Gracie would swear she’d actually lost consciousness for a second or two. When her brain resurfaced she found herself leaning against him, breathing heavily. His arms held her tightly against him as if he would never let go. His heart thundered in her ear.
She raised her head and smiled at him. “Not bad.”
He chuckled, then cupped her face in his hands and lightly kissed her. “I was going to say that.”
“So you’ve had worse?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Better?”
He kissed her again. “Not possible.”
“Good.”
She felt relaxed and comfortable and just a little squishy inside. Why was there never a box of tissues around when you needed them? Usually she did this sort of thing in her bedroom where there were supplies, like tissues and condoms and-
Oh…my…God. She pushed him away and slid down until she stood on the floor and faced him.
“What?” he asked. “Did you get a leg cramp?”
“We didn’t use any protection.”
Good humor faded as if it had never been. “You’re not on the Pill?”
“No.” Several things happened all at once. The smell of burning cake suddenly filled the kitchen just as she noticed the smoke pouring out of the oven. Riley took several steps back, as if to put physical distance between himself and what they’d done, and someone started pounding on her front door.
Gracie shrieked and reached for her clothes. “I’ll accept anyone but my mother,” she said as she pulled on her panties. “And don’t you give me that look. I didn’t do this on purpose.”
“I know.”
“Not every woman in America is on the Pill.”
“I know that, too.”
“Then you have no right to be mad at me.”
“I’m not. I’m mad at myself.”
She didn’t think that was any better. The pounding continued, along with a faint cry of “Gracie? Gracie? Are you home?”
“I think it’s the woman who lives next door,” Gracie said.
She fastened her bra, then stepped into her pants. Riley had already pulled on his slacks.
“Could you get the oven?” she said. “I don’t want the smoke detector coming on.”
He did as she requested. She grabbed her shirt and shot out of the kitchen. After tugging the T-shirt in place, she smoothed her hair, then pulled open the door.
“Hi,” she said, smiling brightly and hoping her neighbor, whose name she couldn’t remember, wouldn’t notice anything was wrong.
“Oh, Gracie. I’m so glad you’re here. It’s Muffin. She fell in the pool and I can’t get her out. She won’t come to the steps. She’s just swimming around and it’s been so long. Please. Please come help me!”
The woman, late sixties with the wrinkled appearance of someone who had lived hard and was now tired, actually wrung her hands together. It was already dark and there was a cool breeze off the ocean. The last thing Gracie wanted to do was jump into a cold swimming pool, but she forced herself to nod.
“Let me grab my shoes,” she said. “I’ll be right there.”
She turned back to find Riley in the hallway. He finished tucking in his shirt.
“The neighbor’s dog fell in the pool,” she said.
“I heard. I’ll take care of it.”
She blinked at him. “Excuse me?”
“I’ll do it. It’s cold out there. I’d appreciate a towel or two, though.”
He walked past her before she could say anything. Her neighbor-Gracie still couldn’t remember her name-clutched his arm.
“Oh, thank you so much. I don’t know what I was going to do. Little Muffin seems to be losing strength. Plus the water is so cold and she’s so small.” The women gave a sob.
Gracie was about to head after them when she remembered the towels. She dashed into her bathroom, pulled out three, then hurried to the front of the house and over to her neighbor’s.
By the time she got there, Riley had already pulled off his shirt and shoes and waded into the pool. Muffin, a very small and wet Yorkie, paddled furiously, but not in the direction of her rescuer. As Riley approached the dog growled and paddled toward the deep end.
“Muffin, no!” the older woman cried. “The nice man is trying to help you. Go to him, honey. Go on. Mommy says it will be fine.”
Gracie crouched by the edge of the pool. Riley shot her an unamused glanced.
“Don’t say it’s my fault,” she told him. “You volunteered.”
“Next time stop me.” He muttered something under his breath that sounded fairly unrepeatable in mixed company, then he moved out toward Muffin.
The Yorkie might be tiny but she was a fine swimmer who zipped across the pool like a missile. Every time Riley moved within grabbing distance, she darted away.
In the lights from around the pool Gracie saw Riley shiver in the freezing water. She stuck her fingers into the pool, then quickly pulled them back. Okay, maybe it wasn’t a good idea for both of them to get chilled to the bone.
Riley finally cornered the small dog by the ladder in the deep end. As he treaded water, he reached out for Muffin. The dog moved left. Riley grabbed her and pulled her close. Man and dog instantly yelped, but he didn’t let go.
Still cursing under his breath, he swam the foot or two to the side of the pool and tossed Muffin to safety, then started climbing the ladder. Gracie hurried around to hand him a towel. It was only then that she saw the little dog had scratched up his chest.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’m sure she didn’t mean it.”
“It hurts as much as if she did.”
The neighbor wrapped her dog in a fluffy white towel and cooed. “There’s a good girl. There’s a pretty girl. You need to stay away from the big, bad pool.” The woman looked up. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“It’s fine,” Riley said. He started to the gate that would take him out of her yard. “Good night.”
“Oh, wait. I could pay you something.”
Riley waved and kept walking. Gracie hurried after him.
“We need to get you cleaned up,” she said. “Those scratches look-”
She never got to finish her sentence. As Riley stepped out onto the driveway there was a huge flash of light. Seconds later Gracie heard the sound of running feet, then a car door slammed, an engine started and the vehicle sped away.