“You little vixen.” He laughed and reached for her again. “Turn around and let me shampoo your hair.”
“No. I mean I can do it.”
“I know you can, Sophie. Humor me on this one.”
Before she could comment, Clay had ripped off his shirt, disposed of his jeans and underwear, and joined her in the tub. She barely had time to grasp what had happened before she smelled the delicate scent of her favorite shampoo as he applied it to her wet hair. Gently his large hands began to massage her scalp and move the suds through her long locks. It felt heavenly, if she could only relax enough to enjoy it. Cupping the water in his hands, he rinsed the soap from her hair. Then his hands moved to her shoulders.
“You are so tense,” he murmured, then began to work the tension away. Her neck. Her shoulders. Her back. “Try to relax.”
His heavily muscled legs were on either side of her, dwarfing her own. She closed her eyes and concentrated on what his hands were doing. Then she was lying back against him as his magic hands began to massage her breasts.
“I’m not tense there.” She suddenly sat up and spun around.
“Yes, you are,” he mumbled.
Then he was kissing her, this time going deep, filling her mouth with pleasure. After a few incredible moments, their lips separated and he drew back.
“Make love to me, Sophie,” he growled.
“Clay, I...”
His hand held the back of her head, gently pulling her to him. Then his lips were once again covering hers. She had no resistance. Not even when he lifted her and slowly lowered her onto his erection. Her heart slammed in her chest while the heat in her belly began to burn.
He was incredible, lying back in the huge tub, the water lapping at the tips of her breasts as he filled her. She broke the kiss and sat up, wanting to focus on the dynamic heat between her legs. With only a few moves, Sophie rocketed to the stars, her limp body falling against his chest. His strong arms came around her.
Clay stood and helped her to stand. Together they stepped from the tub. She felt him place a soft towel around her back as he carried her to the bed. He pulled back the covers and followed her down. Without a word he entered her. His lips were hot as he kissed her mouth, jaw and down her neck, alternately nipping and kissing.
As he took a rosy bud into his mouth and began to suckle, the passion again began to build. When she sensed his hold on his desire slip away, Sophie wrapped her legs around his back and held on. Each stroke became harder, each one deeper than the last. The same precarious intensity that had led him to champion wild bulls over and over again began to come out. It was thrilling, a bit frightening, beguiling, seduction at its best. She felt the breath die in her throat seconds before she was again experiencing an amazing release, taking her up to the heavens, where she stayed while Clay found his own release, joining her in euphoria.
Her next clear thought: She couldn’t breathe. The second: She didn’t care. Clay was lying on top of her, heaving to catch his own breath. He rolled off her but kept her close, one muscled arm going around her. She felt his lips against the side of her face as he gently kissed her. With his scent surrounding her, she closed her eyes. She was an idiot.
An idiot in love.
Seven
“I have to fly to New York,” Clay said as he walked out of his office. “Would you call and make sure the apartment is prepared? Oh—and I need you to come with me.”
“Me? Why me?” Sophie was flustered.
“I’m meeting with the Everest board. I need you there to help me prepare and take notes.” He turned to face her, and didn’t try to hide a full grin. “Don’t worry. It’s legit. Unless you want it to be something different...?”
“Legit works for me. I’ll call them right now. But you know how I hate to fly.”
She hoped Clay hadn’t notice that her hands were shaking. It’s the flying, she told herself. She hated to fly. She hadn’t been able to get over the irrational fear since working for Clay. Her job required quite a bit of travel and every time her nerves were stretched to the snapping point. Never mind that this time she would be flying to New York. With Clay.
The penthouse was a large multilayered structure with one of the best views of Manhattan one could ever imagine. The three large bedrooms were equally blessed. He’d purchased the building four years ago and had the space converted, turning the loft into a luxury suite on the top floor of the high-rise. A helipad on the outside edge of the same floor took away any necessity for ground transportation from the airport.
She’d felt strange sharing the space with Clay the first time they’d gone there. The second trip was much better. Now here they were again, going to the same penthouse, only this time things between them had changed. A flare of heat ran through her body, settling in the apex of her thighs. She knew what his smile was about. She had the same inner grin. It was never a good idea to sleep with the boss. But after the night they’d spent together in May and the times between then and now, she could think of little else.
If there was ever a man who made a woman feel like a woman, it was Clay Everett. He appreciated the females and saw no reason to be coy about it. But neither was he brazen. He walked a perfect line between the two. When she’d first come to work for Clay, he’d come off a lot more reserved, almost shy. After the accident, he’d changed. Anger and resentment at his injuries and at the woman who’d unceremoniously dumped him because of those injuries had made him hard. From then on, he approached a woman like he did a business deal: straight and direct, sighting his target and focusing, not stopping until results were achieved. No slap-happy cowboy; no easygoing persona. She knew those attributes were still inside him but she hadn’t as yet figured out a way to bring those more gentle qualities out. Or if she even wanted to.
Clay had made it clear he wanted her back in his bed for as long as she would stay. But Clay had always said he was not the kind of man to settle down with a family. He now lived on the fast track, as though his time to experience life was limited. He had no time left for frivolities, no time to kick back and have a beer with one of his lifelong buddies. He worked because that was what he did; his life demanded it. He slept and ate because he had to. He had sex because he wanted to. But everything was accomplished with the same driving force. If Plan A didn’t work, he went on to Plan B. If a company didn’t want to get serious and negotiate, he dropped them and found another. If food didn’t set well with his palate, he threw it out and ordered something else. If a woman didn’t suit his needs, he went on to the next.
She had to admit this new Clay had advantages. He worked hard and played the same, only both were done with determination and without humor. He’d always put 100 percent into a project or business negotiation but when the project was finished, it was done. In the months after the accident, once he could walk again, he had then kicked up his heels and partied the night away, usually with the woman of his choice, the two of them disappearing for the night. It was as though he was testing the waters to see if any woman would still want him. He got his answer pretty quickly.
But work eventually overcame the need to establish himself with the fairer sex and the one-night stands ended. As Everest grew, his time was filled, his mind totally devoted to business. And then came the night of the charity ball. One too many cocktails and she’d danced into the arms of one very sensuous, unbelievably sexy man: a dark force with a power of persuasion few men ever mastered.
As far as she knew, since that night in May, Clay had not gone on to the next woman. And he was allowing her time, showing a patience he rarely showed anyone about anything. It was the only aspect of the old Clay she could see. But how long would it last?
Sophie wanted a family. She wanted a husband who would put her and their children first. She couldn’t see Clay ever taking on such a role. So she had resolved to keep her heart well out of the picture. It was a resolve that lasted almost a week.
And now there was the fact that she was pregnant throwing a wrench into the works.
The plane was waiting for them when the limo drove up. When she’d climbed to the top of the stairs, she was greeted by Clay’s flight attendant and welcomed on board the 747. The luxury didn’t stop at his house. Like the barns at his ranch and most everything in his life today, size and opulence abounded. That included his planes, and this one, his newest, was certainly no exception. There was seating for twelve people and plenty of room to move around, a small area where food was prepared, a bathroom, a separate area for the security team so they could unwind and enjoy the flight, a master bedroom for overseas flights and Clay’s office. She couldn’t help but speculate who else was coming along on this trip. He hadn’t mentioned anyone.
Clay followed her up the stairs with his security and six board members in tow. As he stepped into the main area, he gave orders to take off.
The plane-to-helicopter flight took almost four hours. Most of the time in the air they spent discussing the meeting, the agenda and especially the number-one concern: the maniac who had been throwing out slanderous lies about the company.
Arriving at the Everest building, they walked together down the corridor that led to the spacious penthouse suite. Sophie took her overnight bag into the bedroom she’d always used while Clay made some phone calls and continued to address the concerns with the men who had flown in with them. The meeting was scheduled for that afternoon at four o’clock with dinner to be served at eight. She had her agenda, notes of additional topics Clay wanted her to bring up and her iPhone to record the discussion. She was ready to go. The plan was to stay over one night then head back to the ranch in the morning. She couldn’t help but wonder what the night would bring.