Bedded by Blackmail / Millionaire's Secret Seduction: Bedded by Blackmail / Millionaire's Secret Seduction. Robyn Grady
flicked her a curious glance. “Barkley Hotels.”
“Your family owns that?”
He leaned forward, holding his Scotch glass between his knees. “I assumed you knew.”
He’d never mentioned it, nor had any one of the numerous guests he’d had to the house. Neither had she read anything in the magazines she flipped through.
Looking down, he swirled the liquor in his glass. “I don’t suppose you should have. It’s been a while since I left the company, and everyone and his dog knows the subject is banned from my ears.”
“Because of your brother?”
He eyed her as if she might be withholding some interesting secret. “Sit down, Ella. Here next to me. I need your advice.”
She couldn’t help it. She laughed. “My advice?”
He patted the cushion. “Sit.”
She sat. But, even with an arm’s length separating them, she felt it—the sexual charge arcing between them like a powerful magnet.
But Tristan seemed oblivious to the sparks and the pull. He was preoccupied with what had transpired in his study moments ago.
He took another sip and let the Scotch sit in his mouth before his Adam’s apple bobbed and he swal-lowed. “My brother’s getting married.”
“Cade’s getting married?”
“Not Cade. Josh. They’re as different as day and night. Light and dark. Josh wants Cade and me to mend our fences so we can play happy families at his wedding.”
“And that can’t happen.”
He looked at her as if she’d said something pro-phetic. “Exactly. I won’t forgive and forget.”
“Why do you need my opinion?”
“I’d like a woman’s point of view. Josh wants both of us to stand beside him when he says I do. I don’t want to hurt Josh. But whenever Cade and I are within a mile of each other, volcanoes erupt. If I don’t agree, I’ll let Josh down. If I do, I’m afraid I’ll hurt him even more.”
She saw his point. No one wanted a scene at a wedding. “Cade feels the same way?”
“Cade is the eldest. He sees it as his duty to keep the family together, which in his language translates into manipulating everyone to his agenda, including getting me back on board at Barkley Hotels.” Tristan huffed over a jaded smile. “You know what beats all?” His eyes grew distant. “I wish things were different between Cade and me. I always have.”
Instinctively she reached out and touched his arm. It was an eye-opener to see this vulnerable side to such a masterful man. But it only made her respect him more. He was human.
He loved, even when he thought it wiser not to.
Tristan blew out a weary breath. “It’s been one hellova day.”
When his gaze found hers, the distance in his eyes gradually crystallized into something here and now, and the kindling that seared down below whenever he was near leapt high. That blush spilled down her cheeks again and she began to push to her feet. She felt uncertain, so out of her depth.
“Ella, don’t run away.”
Pressing her quivering lips together, she lowered back down. “I thought you might want another drink. And the washing-up’s still there—”
“I don’t want a drink.” The hot tips of his fingers urged her chin higher. “I want to ask you another question. But there’s something I’d like to do first.”
That was all the warning he gave before he leaned forward and kissed her.
As his slightly parted lips lingered on hers—moist, soft, agonizingly inviting—shock set in at the same time fireworks exploded through her veins. A stagger-ing heartbeat later, instinct took over. A tiny whimper escaped her throat and she leaned in, too.
When his mouth gently left hers, in the shadowed light she saw his dark eyes gleam.
“That was nice,” he murmured, their lips all but touching. “We should have done this sooner.”
Cupping her nape, he brought her near again, and before she could wonder whether this was good, bad or simply necessary, she submitted fully, her mouth opening to welcome more of his caress, her mind shutting down to everything other than the crazy, magical sensation she’d always known this man’s embrace would bring.
Her hand inched up from his bicep, over his shoulder. Uncompromising masculine power. What would the sculpted rock of his body feel like beneath his shirt? What would she give to have him naked now as she’d seen him that morning?
But she wouldn’t run from him this time. This time she wanted him close, as close as two human beings could get.
Yet, as the kiss deepened and Tristan’s heat and hardness moved in more, Ella saw a flash of Cade Barkley and the emotion changed.
Even a man in control of his world could have an Achilles heel. Clearly Tristan’s was his family. He’d been knocked off balance tonight. She didn’t want this intimacy to go further simply because he needed to expend some pent-up energy and frustration. She didn’t want to surrender this part of herself to serve a purpose that had more to do with Tristan’s imminent need to dominate his environment and so much less to do with romance.
Breathless, she dragged herself away and mur-mured, “I’m sorry.”
She couldn’t meet his gaze. As desperately as she wanted to, she didn’t want to read whatever she might see shimmering in those hypnotic eyes.
His voice was low and rough. “No. I’m the one who should apologize. Like I said, it’s been a long day.” He pushed to his feet. “We can talk more tomorrow.”
As he left the room, Ella’s tummy fluttered.
Tristan might have apologized, but he didn’t say he wouldn’t do it again. And the hunger his kiss had awakened inside of her made her wish he would.
Chapter Five
The following evening, Tristan smiled to himself when heads turned as he escorted his date into the pres-tigious hotel’s grand ballroom.
He slid a glance at Ella’s profile, radiant in the subdued candelabra light. She wore her golden hair down in long, loose ringlets. The style complemented the serene quality of her bone structure—small straight nose, classic rosebud mouth, a complexion that confirmed good health.
Last night when they’d kissed—softly at first, then with growing passion—he’d lost himself in a moment that had felt so incredibly right. Although he’d pulled back when she’d asked, truth was, now that he’d had a taste, he couldn’t wait to have her in his arms again.
After her positive response to his kiss, he was certain Ella would pay attention to the proposition he had in mind. Sexual compatibility in a marriage was, of course, a necessity. The off-the-scale sizzle factor they seemed to share was a most welcome bonus.
They wove through the glitter and pomp of the highbrow crowd and reached their table. Tristan pulled out her chair, noticing six places at the round table were filled, but two, aside from their own, were still vacant. He took in the nearest place card, Herb Patter-son, the man he’d wanted to speak with tonight. When introductions were made around the table, Tristan was told Herb wouldn’t be attending.
Ella leaned close to whisper for his ears only, “That’s bad luck.”
Tristan pulled his chair in more. Perhaps, but he wasn’t upset because now he could focus his undivided attention upon the gorgeous woman seated beside him. Remembering that kiss, it was difficult not to sit a little closer, or find some excuse to touch her smooth, tanned skin, or to tell her about the proposition he had in mind—a civilized, sensible arrangement