Tempted by Her Billionaire Boss(29)

The display went on for almost twenty minutes. The Grants had spared no  expenses tonight in this marquee party of the year that celebrated the  end of summer. She glanced around at the crowd. Looked directly into a  pair of big blue eyes on their left that looked utterly shattered.  Cecily.

There are far better bets than to take a chance on me.

A knot formed in her stomach. Was she being incredibly foolish taking  this jump? Utterly naive? Because that sandbox Harrison had talked  about...it wasn't her world. This wasn't her world. She could easily get  eaten alive.

His arms tightened around her. She nestled into him as the fireworks  came to an end. Faith required a whole lot more determination than that  type of thinking.

She stood by Harrison's side as he and Evelyn waved the guests off in  the driveway. If his mother thought her presence there of interest, she  didn't show it.

When most of them had left, except for a few stragglers still partying  on the dock with Coburn, Harrison clasped her hand in his and they  walked toward the house.

The big mansion was silent after the noise of the crowd. They climbed  the stairs to the guest rooms, but Harrison didn't stop there; he kept  going up the next flight toward his.

"Tongues are wagging," she said quietly as they walked down the hallway toward his suite.

He twisted the knob on the door to his room, opened it and pushed it in with his palm. "Let them."

The room was impressive and warm with its elaborately carved wood  fireplace and king-size bed. Harrison came up behind her, put his lips  to the nape of her neck and sent shivers down her spine. She leaned back  into the heat of his mouth, into the storm they had unleashed. Because  she was most certainly in love with him. And she'd been brought up to  trust her heart. She only hoped she could trust Harrison with hers.         

     



 





CHAPTER TWELVE

ROCKY ADJUSTED TO his former home far more easily than Frankie did. He'd  resumed his habit of swimming lazy circles to show off his magnificent  burnt orange color, his elegant snout pitched in her direction to make  sure she was watching, as well as his more frequent naps on the  enticing, mossy crystalwort that lined the bottom of the tank.

He'd also clearly taken a cue from the more relaxed demeanor of his  owner. Frankie was happy to be back with Coburn where she knew exactly  what was expected of her. The work was challenging and satisfying and if  there was a part of her that missed the excitement of working with a  man whose multiple facets posed a different challenge every minute of  the day, she had more than enough of that to contend with in her  burgeoning relationship with Harrison outside the office.

He was complex and intense in everything he did, including the bedroom,  where he was demonstrating just how passionate and multifaceted a  relationship between a man and a woman could be.

Heat drew a curtain across her cheeks. That was where she liked him the  most: in bed, where he couldn't get enough of her; where he showed how  he felt without the words he couldn't seem to find. He had awakened a  side of her she hadn't known existed. A confident, vital part of her  that suggested maybe she wasn't so ordinary as she'd always suspected;  that maybe she was much more than that. And although she still wasn't  completely sure he wouldn't break her heart, she grew more confident  every day in what they had. And one day at a time was how she'd promised  herself she was going to play this.

Rocky swam another lazy circle in front of her, his beady eyes staring  at her. "Yes, you're gorgeous," she told him, shutting her computer down  as Coburn put on his coat. "But now I must leave you for a glass of  wine and a good book."

"Not with my brother tonight?" Coburn came to stand by her desk.

She shook her head. "He's having dinner with Tom Dennison."

His mouth lifted in a wry tilt. "A full-court press, I'd say. They want him badly."

But did Harrison want them? It was a question she kept asking herself as  she got to know the enigmatic man better and better-one she hadn't been  able to answer yet. "Far more illustrious company than I," she offered  drily, pulling her bottom drawer open and reaching for her bag as the  elevator chimed its arrival.

Coburn's eyes moved past her to the elevators. "I think you underestimate your appeal."

She turned. Registered the dark and dangerous presence of the man who  was her lover striding toward them. Her pulse shifted into overdrive.  Although his eyes had the bruised look of someone who had slept even  less than usual of late, undoubtedly due to his showdown with Anton  Markovic next week, and the frown that marred his brow made him look  forbidding, he was still the most handsome, electric man she'd ever  encountered.

The trace of suspicion in his ebony eyes as his gaze flicked to Coburn's  position beside her desk sent a warm, heated feeling through her. She  liked him jealous. It made him just that little bit vulnerable she  needed to get inside.

"H," Coburn greeted him. "Dennison stand you up?"

"I canceled."

Canceled?

Coburn straightened, moving away from her desk and the line of fire.  "I'm taking it you aren't here for me. In which case, I'm going to get  going. I'm meeting friends."

Harrison nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

Frankie caught the flash of emotion that passed through Coburn's eyes as  he said good-night to her. He wished Harrison would confide in him. The  distance between the brothers was becoming so clear to her. She waited  until Coburn had stepped on the elevator and left before turning her  gaze on the man who'd taken his place. "You know it hurts him when you  shut him out like that."

He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and brought her to her feet. "Coburn and I are complicated. Don't get in the middle."

But she knew he didn't bite now, despite his reputation. "Was it always like this?"

His ebony eyes flattened into a matte black. "No. We were close once."  He slid an arm around her waist and pulled her close. "We took two  different paths. It's years of history. Stop digging."

"Okay," she murmured, suddenly feeling out of breath as he bent his head  toward her. "There are security cameras here...remember?"

He kissed her anyway, the heat of his mouth burning through any  resistance she had. She curled her fingers into the lapels of his jacket  and kissed him back. He didn't stop until she was fully distracted, a  deep sigh pulling from her throat.         

     



 

"Have dinner with me tonight," he murmured huskily against her lips. "Unless you have plans..."

"With a pizza box and a book." She pulled back and studied his weary face. "Why did you cancel?'

A grimace stretched his lips. "I can't think when they're all over me."

Yet he'd chosen her to be with. Heat radiated from her chest, spilling  into every part of her. "Yes," she accepted, running her fingers over  the taut skin of his cheek. "If you agree to order pizza."

He produced the pizza and a bottle of Chianti, an easier battle than it  might have been given it was Elisa's night out and his food snob  tendencies couldn't take over.

"You know," she murmured when they'd demolished the pizza on the sofa in  the showpiece of a living room, "this decor doesn't suit you at all. It  doesn't say anything about who you are."

His lips curved. "I could tell you hated it from the minute you walked in."

"I don't hate it. I think it looks like an art gallery, not a home."

"It's supposed to be an investment."

"Do you plan to live here for a while?"

"Unless plans change."

Unless he ended up in Washington...

He waved an elegant hand around the space. "What would you do, then, with it?"

She gave the open-concept, stark room a critical once-over. "I would add  some of that color you love, maybe a gray blue for the walls. Carpets  to give it warmth, definitely. And maybe some exotic accents."

He cradled the big wineglass in his palm. "You think that's me?"

"I think it's complex like you are... You aren't cold like this,  Harrison. You're layered, you have great depth of feeling when you allow  yourself to experience it."

Suprisingly, he didn't back away from the assessment. His face was lost  in thought as he sat there in a rare still moment. "I can't afford to be  emotional right now," he said finally, his dark lashes coming down to  veil his expression. "Too many things depend on me being level-headed."

"My father always taught me to go with my gut," she countered. "He said  the rest will come if you start with what's in your heart."

He lifted his ebony gaze to her. "What if your heart's conflicted?"

Her heart squeezed at the admission. "You need to find out why."

He rested his head against the sofa and stared over at the beautiful  Chagalls, both of them in place now. Frankie swallowed hard. "Where is  the push for politics coming from? Is it your dream or is it your  father's unfinished one?"