“I’ll get it shortly. Not now. Give me your key and I’ll get your door.”
She handed him the key, watching as he unlocked and waited for her to enter. Every second that ticked past heightened her worry. Her insides fluttered.
“Do you have an alarm?” he asked as he followed her inside and closed the door behind him.
She turned to switch off the alarm and then faced Tony. “It’s off. This has been a wonderful evening that truly was a celebration,” she said, looking up into dark eyes that kept her heart racing. Her words were polite, somewhat impersonal. She intended to keep it that way in spite of wanting to be in his arms, to kiss and be kissed again.
She held out her hand to give him an impersonal handshake. “Thank you, Tony.”
“That won’t do.” He took her hand and pulled her toward him, reaching out to comb his fingers through her hair, carefully removing first one pin and then another. She felt the faint tugs against her scalp, which made her tingle. While her heart drummed, her gaze was locked with his.
“This is the way I remember you and like to see you—with your hair down. Preferably naked in my arms in bed.”
“Tony, that night is definitely over and it was very long ago,” she whispered, trying to hang on to common sense and avoid getting more entangled with him in spite of her racing heart.
“But unforgettable. You’re a warm, passionate, beautiful woman, and extremely appealing.” As he talked, he removed more pins and more of her long, blond hair fell freely across her shoulders until all strands were loose.
“Ah, Isabelle, you’re gorgeous.” He wound both hands in her hair and then his arms slipped around her waist and he drew her to him.
When he looked at her mouth, her lips parted and she was certain he could hear her thudding heart. “We’re not ending this night on a handshake. Since I saw you at the reception and realized you were Jessie, I’ve wanted to kiss you.”
“Tony, don’t,” she whispered, her heart beating wildly. The moment she had intended to avoid was happening. While his arms tightened to draw her closer, he brushed his lips over hers, a faint touch, but it changed the entire evening. Sparks spun from his kiss, transforming a casual evening into something more, making her forget any handshake. Tony brushed her lips lightly again, then returned to cover her mouth with his.
Isabelle’s insides clenched and heated. As his tongue went deep into her mouth, longing swept over her, demolishing worries, igniting fires and rekindling desire. Memories of a night long ago bombarded her. Wrapping her arm around his neck and an arm around his waist, she clung to him, pouring herself into the kiss.
His arms tightened around her. His kiss was even more devastating than she remembered. White-hot, melting, his kiss shook her. How could he be so incredibly sexy to kiss when she didn’t want to be drawn to him? She was annoyed with him, determined to guard her heart, yet barriers were dropping away, disintegrating from the onslaught of pleasure.
She ran her fingers through the short hair at the back of his head and then moved her hand across his broad shoulder.
Passion mushroomed, shaking her, driving her to wild kisses that blanked out everything except Tony.
He raised his head. “I want you in my life, in my arms in my bed.”
“Never,” she whispered, her actions negating her words as she stood on tiptoe and pulled his head down again to kiss him. She felt starved for his kisses, as if no time had passed between that spring night with him and now. Remembering his lean, muscular body, his broad shoulders and hard masculinity, she longed for what she could not have. A night she thought she was beginning to forget poured back, vividly clear.
“Tony, we have to stop,” she whispered, even though her actions denied her words as she pulled him close to continue kissing him.
“Why?” he responded before her lips were on his and they kissed again. Passion blazed, consuming protests and reason.
Tony’s kisses were beyond dreams, building excitement with lightning speed.
Dimly, she thought she should tell him again to stop, but the notion was fleeting. Giving herself, taking all he gave, she kissed him. She thrust her hips against him, feeling his thick erection, knowing he wanted her and was ready.
Feeling lost in a dizzying spiral, she finally summoned her willpower and stopped. “Tony, that’s it,” she gasped. She struggled for breath while her heart pounded and her body was on fire for his hands and mouth and loving.
With half-lidded eyes, he gazed at her, brushing long locks of her hair back from her face.
“That got out of hand,” she managed to say.
“Not really. We only kissed a few times.”
It wasn’t only. His kisses had been earthshaking, seductive.
He held her waist. “You’re special, Isabelle.”
Her heartbeat quickened yet more. Words to wrap around her heart and make it captive. “Tonight was a celebration, Tony. I had a wonderful time and thank you. I suppose I’ll see you at the office this week.”
“Not this week, because I leave town,” he said, his fingers caressing her throat.
“Thanks and good night,” she said softly, looking into eyes filled with yearning.
“It was a special evening,” he said. He swept her into his arms and kissed her hard. Startled, for an instant she froze. It was only seconds, and then she returned his kiss until he released her, watching her intently with both satisfaction and need.
“Until later,” he said quietly. He left, closing the door. The lock clicked in place. She looked out the window. Tony was already on his cell phone, his long legs carrying him swiftly to the limo.
“You’re a workaholic,” she whispered, thinking about the calls he had received. The head of an empire, wanting to keep in touch with his business at all times.
In seconds the limo’s red taillights disappeared around a curve in the driveway. She switched off the hall lights and stood in the darkened entryway. Her mouth was dry, and her body was on fire. She wanted him with an intensity that shocked her.
“Good night, Tony. Sexy man,” she said, relishing memories of the evening. For the next few hours she was going to pretend Tony was just another guy she worked with and enjoy replaying the night in her mind. Tomorrow she could return to reality. The man was her employer. He was obsessed with work, chasing a goal of billionaire by forty. His true love was power. He would avoid commitment. She had to refuse his next invitation or kiss her own dreams and goals goodbye. She had to resist his kisses, resist him, remember to keep up her guard. Too much was at stake to get deeply involved with him. She promised herself she would hold her own goals always in sight.
At least until her next encounter with Tony.
Four
Tony entered the walnut-paneled study at his parents’ mansion to greet his father, looking into brown eyes as dark as his own. It was a typical Sunday evening with a quiet house, the staff at a minimum, his mother at a friend’s playing bridge. “You called and wanted to see me. What’s up?”
“First, let me pour you a glass of wine. Have a seat.” “Make it a small amount,” Tony said, not interested in wine, but aware it would please his father if he would sit and have a drink with him. Tony took a business call while Grant Ryder poured two goblets with white wine from a crystal decanter. He carried one to Tony, who replaced his phone. “How was the Morris party?”
“Fine. Everything went smoothly. I think the transition will be easy.”
“You achieved the impossible, Tony, getting Morris to retire.”