Reunited for the Billionaire's Legacy(21)

His fingers tightened around her jaw. “Open your mouth,” he demanded. “Let me in.”

The war went on in her head, the battle between her two selves loud and chaotic. And then she couldn’t fight it anymore. Her lips softened beneath his. He took them in a deep, drugging kiss that swept away all conscious thought except for the intoxicating, deliciously male scent of him, the tall, strong length of his body that brushed hers tantalizingly close, but not nearly close enough. His taste, his touch was achingly familiar and yet different somehow. As if the exceedingly tough, driven man he’d become had seeped into every part of him, and even his kiss couldn’t help but be affected by it.

She drank him in, relearned every contour of his sensual, beautiful mouth.

He murmured her name, his voice a velvety caress that slid across her sun-warmed skin. His hands shifted lower to her hips to drag her against him. She moved into him, luxuriating in the press of his strong, muscular thighs against her. Only with Coburn could a kiss be this soulful.

His hands moved over her buttocks, shaping her against him. Froze. “You have nothing on underneath this dress?”

Heat flared in her already warm skin. “It’s impossible with it.”

He brought her chin up with the tips of his fingers, the heated shimmer in his eyes making her insides quiver. “It wasn’t a complaint,” he drawled softly. “Knowledge is power. Or pleasure, in your case...”

She bit down hard on her lip. How could she forget what he did with such knowledge? A dinner party on a steamy night in Manhattan filled her head. Coburn had just been back from a business trip to Germany. He’d touched down, driven home and changed, just in time to walk out the door with her to a cocktail party. Intensely sexual in nature, her husband had spent the evening trying to keep his hands off her, but a week away from each other had taken its toll. She had excused herself to use the powder room when Coburn had discreetly followed her, slipped in after her and locked the door. He had taken her against the wall, swift and hard, his raspy voice in her ear telling her how much he’d missed her. How he had pleasured himself thinking about her in his big, lonely hotel room.

“Hot, wasn’t it?” Her husband’s husky taunt returned her focus to his face. He was studying the heat staining her body a bright red. “It was the most uninhibited I’ve ever seen you.”

She pulled in a breath. “Behave.”

“For now,” he agreed, a pirate-like smile curving his lips. “This time I want you very verbal, sweetheart, so I know I’m satisfying your frustration to a suitable level.”

Her stomach contracted. Skipping the party suddenly sounded like a good idea to her, too, because his blunt seduction was going to have her in tatters after an entire evening of it.

“But first,” her husband drawled, nixing that idea as he stepped back and reached into his pocket, “you need to put this on.”

She stared at the shiny object sitting in his palm. The symbol of so much happiness and angst housed in a plain, shiny gold band gleamed back at her like a point of no return. Her wedding ring. Actually, her second wedding ring if you were to be technical about it. The first she’d lost scrubbing for surgery, something Coburn had never forgiven her for.

“You kept it.”

He picked up her left hand and slid the ring on her finger. She had never seen the practicality of a large diamond with the job that she had, so it had only ever been this simple band that had declared her his.

Their gazes met and held as she looked up. “This time it stays, Diana. Through the good and the bad.”

She wondered which would prevail for them. Coburn bent his head to her ear. “Stop thinking and enjoy the evening.”

She gave it her best shot as he guided her to the car and drove up the hillside to the fabulous Kent villa perched on the cliff. Her speculation from that day in the sea was confirmed. The view from the low-lying, Italian-inspired structure was outrageously stunning. Sheer rock face plunged down to pristine, glittering stretches of golden-sand beach, where white-foamed waves crashed up onto the shore in a testament to the power of nature.

Coburn had told her Arthur had purchased the island for ten million dollars five years ago. A ten-million-dollar view it certainly was.

A butler directed them to the terrace that overlooked the sea. Torches burned brightly, illuminating a crowd of perhaps a dozen guests with champagne glasses in their hands. The wealthy elite of Arthur’s world, Diana pegged them, the perfectly coiffed hairstyles of the women and the exquisite cocktail dresses they wore as casually as if they’d stuck a hand in the closet and thrown on the first thing they came up with, telling. As were the jewels that sparkled from their well-tanned skin.

A tall, thin man with an elegant stature broke away from the group and came toward them, a smile on his face. His features were expressive rather than handsome, a crooked nose highlighting his sharply drawn, aristocratic features. Arthur Kent, she surmised, from the warm greeting he gave her husband.

Inquisitive hazel eyes turned to her. She had the sensation of being thoroughly analyzed before Arthur bent and pressed a kiss to both her cheeks. “So I finally get to meet the lovely Diana.”

“You have a very beautiful home,” she said smoothly. “Thank you for allowing us to visit.”

He lifted a hand. “You are welcome anytime. I keep telling Coburn that, but he is too caught up in the rush of being a big-time CEO now to take me up on it.”

“Not too busy to pick your brain tonight,” Coburn responded, a wry smile curving his lips. “I would like to if you don’t mind.”

She wondered if her husband wanted to ask Arthur for his advice on whatever was happening at Grant that was making him so distracted. She wasn’t to find out as Arthur’s wife, Dana, joined them along with their two young boys. Nine and seven, Maciah and James were utterly charming miniature versions of their dark-haired British mother, who was easily twenty years younger than the airline magnate. A trophy wife, she wondered, because surely she was stunning, but Diana quickly saw it was much more than that. The Kents were a vivacious, happy clan who had moved to the island upon Arthur’s early retirement to escape the pressures of their former life. It was clear they had learned the secret of living, and it was not based on how much money they had in the bank.

When Arthur told the sports-obsessed boys Coburn had played competitive soccer in school, they pleaded with her husband to kick a ball around the yard. Never one to resist a sporting activity of any ilk, Coburn passed his drink to her and good-naturedly trailed after the two rambunctious boys.

“You don’t have a drink,” Dana commented. “Shall I get you a glass of champagne?”

“Actually, orange juice and soda would be lovely.”

A speculative glimmer entered her hostess’s eyes but she was too polite to comment. She went off to retrieve the drink from the bartender while Diana and Arthur watched the boys chase Coburn around the yard. Her husband expertly faked and deked, keeping the ball out of their possession with tricks that made them laugh and chase harder. The tension faded from his face for the first time in days as he laughed along with them.

“He’s good with children.” Arthur rested his forearms on the railing and watched the game. “He told me once he wasn’t sure he wanted any. I thought that strange given his love of life. He jumps into everything with his head and heart fully immersed, damn the consequences. It’s a great example for a child. Fear kills so many dreams.”

How true. It had stifled hers until she’d identified what she truly wanted out of life, and that was to work with kids. To do something exceptional with her skills in Africa, where too many were denied basic health care. And perhaps, she thought, it had killed her marriage the first time around because Coburn was right. His ability to see through her made her feel naked and vulnerable. His ability to make her feel terrifying. It was why she’d run away. She knew that now.

Her husband let out a roar of laughter as the two boys pulled on his pant leg to try to bring him to the ground, fierce determination on their young faces. He would be a good father. With Coburn, life was an adventure waiting to happen. His joie de vivre when she’d met him had been so opposite to her own careful, controlled nature that she had been blown away by it. Amazed someone could live in the present like that when she’d known as a teenager what her next two decades would look like.

But somewhere along the way their separate agendas had collided and her husband’s lust for life had gone from being charming to infuriating. Now with more pressure on him than ever before and saddled with a baby he hadn’t even wanted, how would he react? Would it be too much for them?

She swallowed past the knot in her throat. She couldn’t think like that. She had to be positive about this if it was ever going to work.



“They tire you out?”

Arthur joined Coburn on the lawn as he held his hands up, declaring himself done with the impromptu soccer game.

“They’re fast little devils,” Coburn conceded, taking the cold beer Arthur handed him. “I haven’t been to the gym nearly enough since I took over Grant.”

Arthur tipped his glass at him. “It’s all consuming, isn’t it? Why do you think I got out when I did? The secret is balance, my friend, and it’s not easy to find.”