by Shayla Black
Eileen frowned at her.
“I was being nosy. Is Braden in a fraternity?”
“Of a sort.” Eileen turned on the faucet and began rinsing dishes.
Odd. She wasn’t generally evasive, which heightened Lizzie’s curiosity. “Along with the president of the United States?” Maybe it was a college thing. No doubt all the Gallagher men had attended the same one.
“Hmm.”
“Mom?”
“If you want to know anything more, you will have to ask Braden.” With that, she went back to work.
Waitstaff began letting guests know that dinner was being served in the tents. Afterward, there would be announcements and a toast celebrating Mr. and Mrs. Gallagher’s anniversary. Cake and coffee would follow, and at the same time, the quartet would begin playing in the ballroom.
Because they had a short break, Lizzie and her mother ate a small meal in the kitchen. Eileen steered the conversation toward their own family.
“Will you be there tomorrow night?”
Lizzie’s aunt Virginia had married into a large Latin family, and she’d enthusiastically embraced the culture. Now every Sunday, her aunt Virginia made dinner for anyone who wanted to come over. Recently, one of her sons had started distilling his own tequila, and each time he came, he brought a bottle or two. The gathering was now known as the Triple T—tamales, taquitos, and tequila. Some weeks there were only a few people who showed up, but at times, there were as many as thirty attendees.
“Estella is bringing the baby.”
“Then I’ll definitely be there.” She hadn’t gotten to meet the newborn, and she was looking forward to holding her.
“I knew that would get you.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the party planner entering the house. “Do you mind letting the band know it’s time for them to start?”
“Happy to.” After snatching a mint from a bowl on the counter, Lizzie went into the ballroom and chatted with the band, making sure that they had beverages. Then she double-checked that the two people behind the small makeshift bar were all set.
“We may need some more bottled water. It’s pretty hot tonight.”
“Good idea.”
A half hour later, as more and more people drifted inside, the atmosphere around her became supercharged. Braden. Even without seeing him or hearing him speak, she knew he was there.
“Dance with me?”
His baritone voice slid over her, awakening an immediate response in her. Despite her best efforts to avoid him, he’d found her, making her wonder if he’d been looking for her.
Lizzie turned to face him, all the while looking for an excuse to escape. A few couples were already swaying to an old Frank Sinatra song. The bartender in the corner was mixing a drink. Everything was under control. “I was just going to check on…” What? The idea of being in his arms again made rational thought vanish. In a rushed whisper, she finished her sentence. “Something.”
“I’m sure you won’t be missed for the next three minutes.”
How could he not understand her position? “I can’t.” She couldn’t, no matter how much she wanted to. “The host doesn’t fraternize with the help.”
“Fraternize, is it?” A smile played around his mouth.
Since he’d found her in his closet, he’d been gruff, serious, and enticingly sexy. But this softer side of him was irresistible. “People will talk.”
“I don’t spend a lot of time concerned about that.”
“You might not. But I do.” Her mom would have questions, and perhaps his mother, as well.
He shrugged. “You’re the help. Do I understand that correctly? So in this instance, it makes me your boss?”
“Don’t.” She saw where he was going. “That’s sneaky, using my words against me.” He was as determined as he was clever.
“It’s only a dance.” His voice was persuasive. “In front of all these people.” He waved his hand, then leaned in a little closer. “It’s not an all-out attempt at seduction.”
Oh, but it is. And it was working.
“There are only about two minutes left in the song. What harm could there be?”
To her? A lot. She wasn’t a woman capable of switching her emotions on and off.
“We can do it here. Away from prying eyes.”
“Braden.”
“Say yes.”
Without giving her time to protest, he wrapped his arms around her, claiming her the moment she agreed.
Braden held her tight, as if he never wanted to let her go. At first, she held her body rigid, but he was a force of nature, and she was powerless to resist him.
“We fit together nice.”
He was right, but for the sake of her sanity, she couldn’t agree.
“Makes me wonder what else would be perfect between us.”
For a moment, no one else existed, and she realized why so many women fell for him. She’d been tempting fate when she bought this dress, swiped on the lipstick, and dabbed a drop of fragrance behind her ear.
His grip was light, and for one tantalizing minute, she wondered what it might be like if she were his social equal, if he was interested in her as a woman. Since both thoughts were ludicrous, she shooed them away.
She had found success in her life because she didn’t allow men to distract her. Lizzie told herself to remember that.
When the song ended, she pulled back, desperate to get away. “Thank you.” She forced a polite smile as she reminded herself that it had only been yesterday that she’d found his tie under the couch in the living room.
This billionaire was a complete scoundrel. And Elizabeth Ryan refused to become another in his long line of conquests.
“You should stay.”
Shocked, Lizzie turned. Braden’s shoulders were propped on one of the thick sliding-glass partitions that had been recently been closed.
Outside, a few torches still flickered, and the fairy lights danced in the gentle breeze. The party had ended almost an hour ago, but it had taken that long for the caterers to clean up and for her and her mother to put the kitchen to rights again.
Lizzie had walked her mother to her car before returning for her cell phone to request a car.
It had been a long night. Her feet throbbed, and she longed to slip out of her heels. At the very least, she should have brought a second pair to change into. But when she left the house, she’d been thinking about which pair went best with the dress…and about the way her calves would look in them.
“I mean it. There’s no need to leave.”
His suggestion was ludicrous, and she needed to refuse right away.
“It’s late.” He glanced at the massive clock on the kitchen wall and winced. “Or early, depending on your point of view.”
All the more reason for her to leave now.
“You’ve been working hard on this event for at least two days. I’ve got a soaker tub you might enjoy.”
Her rented home was small and only had a shower in the master suite, and there were times she missed taking a long bath. But she wasn’t an idiot. She knew there was only one soaker tub in the house. And that was in the master suite.
“I have plenty of guest rooms.” He grinned. “Not really sure how many.”
“Eight.” She knew; after all, there’d been many times she’d helped her mother change the sheets on all of the beds.
“I give you my word as a gentleman that I’ll behave.” He raised his right hand.
That was the biggest part of this whole problem. Part of her didn’t want him to keep his distance. She wanted to be ravaged by him, swept away for once in her life.
“You can be asleep before you’d even arrive home…well, depending on where you live in the city.”
After their dance earlier, she’d done her best to avoid Braden. That wasn’t easy, though. All of her instincts were attuned to him. If he came within fifty feet of her, tiny goose bumps chased down her arms. She could pick out the richness of his
baritone voice in a roomful of men.
Now, he was even more enticing. He’d discarded his jacket and unknotted his bow tie, leaving the ends dangling starkly against his crisp white shirt. The look was every bit as sexy as she’d earlier imagined it might be.
“What do you say?”
Survival instinct screamed, “No!” But instead, she exhaled a shaky breath and gave him a small grin. “You had me at soaker tub.”
3
Spending the night at Braden’s house was not one of Lizzie’s smartest decisions.
She’d been soaking in the tub with her head tipped back and her eyes closed, luxuriating in the magnificence of the moment, until she heard him moving about in his bedroom, and his closet.
Because she was afraid of seeing him naked, she lowered herself a little, until her shoulders were under the water, and she stayed that way for far too long. Finally, when the water chilled her, making her teeth chatter, she stepped out, then dried off with one of his big, fluffy towels. Then she slipped into a T-shirt that he’d given her. The hem came to midthigh, and she told herself it wasn’t skimpy. After all, it covered more of her than her dress had.
His shirt smelled like him, even though that was impossible. It had been folded on a shelf, fresh from the laundry. But to her it was snuggly and warm, and it had a slight scent of spice.
When she emerged from the bathroom, he was nowhere to be found. She rolled her eyes heavenward in a little show of gratitude. Then she chided herself for hiding out in the first place. If she’d been a little braver, she could have already been in bed.
After another quick glance around, she dashed toward the bedroom she’d selected. It was on the opposite side of the house, as far away from Braden as she could get. Once the door clicked closed, she hurried to the bed, where she yanked the covers up to her chin and listened for sounds of him. The air conditioner kicked on, and its whisper was enough make any other sound impossible to discern.
A few minutes later, she turned over and closed her eyes, only to pop them open almost right away.
Telling herself to stop being ridiculous, that Braden wasn’t standing there waiting to take advantage of her, she drew a steadying breath and tried again. Each time she started to drift off to sleep, memories of their time together rushed through her mind, one after the other, each vivid in color and emotion. She replayed the scene in his closet, and the way he’d pulled her behind a palm. His kisses, from intense to promising, had each been so stimulating and they’d evoked unique responses in her.
And there were the toys she’d found in his closet…
Until yesterday, she’d never had much of a desire to experiment sexually. But now, she pictured herself tied for his pleasure, maybe even blindfolded. Shocking herself, she wondered what she might look like with his gag in her mouth.
There was no way she was going to be able to sleep as long as they were both under the same roof. With his gorgeous smile and devastating purpose, Braden Gallagher had started to dismantle every defense she’d erected to keep herself safe.
In frustration, she tossed and turned for over an hour, unable to get comfortable, despite punching the pillow into numerous different shapes.
Sometime after three, she gave up and climbed out of bed. She tiptoed to the door, then opened it a crack. The lights were out, and the house was quiet.
Holding her breath, just in case, Lizzie crept down the cool marble stairs and padded into the kitchen.
Because she’d spent countless hours here after school released for the day, this place was comfortable.
Wondering if her mother still kept a pile of homemade chocolate chip cookies stashed away, Lizzie rooted through the pantry. “Yes,” she whispered as she triumphantly pulled out a canister.
She carried it to the island, then she pulled down a glass from a cupboard shelf and placed it on the counter before grabbing a carton of milk from the refrigerator.
“Is there enough for two?”
Lizzie screamed and jumped, nearly dropping the half-gallon container. How had she not heard him?
Shaking from the fright he’d given her, she spun.
When she saw him, her eyes widened, and she couldn’t find her voice.
He lazed in the doorjamb, wearing only a pair of boxer briefs.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” His voice was rich and sleep-roughened, dragging across her senses like diamonds on steel. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“Sometimes happens when I’m not in my own bed,” she fibbed.
His jaw was unshaven, making him seem sexier than ever. Unable to stop herself, she looked at him, appreciating his broad shoulders and honed chest that had a sexy smattering of hair.
Lizzie told herself to affect an air of nonchalance, pretending she often found herself alone with a scandalous billionaire in his kitchen in the middle of the night. But that wasn’t the truth, and every nerve ending was twisted inside out. Right now, she didn’t know how to stop herself from letting her gaze wander lower, to his tight abdomen. He had a workout room in the house, and there was no doubt he used it.
She skipped over his private parts to notice how lean his legs were…probably from cycling or running.
Then, damn it, she was unable to resist temptation and looked at his pelvis. The black boxer briefs had a pouch of types to accommodate his balls, and the fabric was stretched tight. And even from here, she could make out the shape of his cock.
Arousal flashed through her in a wave of hunger she’d never experienced before. It was as frightening as it was irresistible.
He was regarding her, and if his lazy smile was anything to go by, he didn’t mind the way she’d been staring at him.
To distract herself from the unwelcome sensations zipping through her, Lizzie carried the milk to the island.
“Are you going to be selfish with the cookies? I’ll tell your mom you wouldn’t share.”
Because his comment was so lighthearted and absurd—a contradiction to his sexy masculinity—she gave a small laugh.
Without waiting for another response, he pushed away from the door. Within seconds, he’d pulled back a stool from the island and took a seat.
Lizzie contemplated fleeing back to her room, but now that he was up, she knew she wouldn’t be able to go to sleep, anyway.
She transferred a pile of cookies onto a plate then slid it in front of him. “Milk, also?”
“I haven’t done this in years.”
Neither had she. “I’ll take that as a yes?”
“Please.” He nodded.
After she took down a second glass and filled each of them, then returned the carton to the fridge, the situation became even more awkward, at least for her. He seemed completely at ease.
“Thank you.” He lifted his glass and tipped it toward her, in a slight toast. Then, surprising her, he dunked his cookie in the milk.
For a moment, he looked more carefree than she ever remembered. Ever since she’d met him, he’d been serious, maybe to the point of somber. Or maybe this was an act, part of his effort to charm her. If so, it was working.
“I always appreciated the way your mom had treats for me.”
She took a drink and propped her hips against the sink, about as far away from his as possible.
“After little Mandy…”
Intrigued, she waited. Her mother almost never spoke of Braden’s baby sister, who’d been born premature and passed a few weeks later.
“Things changed.” He finished his cookie, and she wondered if he’d go on or whether that was as much as he intended to share.
“Mom used to be happy. And then, all the joy was sucked from our lives.”
Lizzie had heard that his parents separated shortly after that. Even now they lived in different homes, even though they’d never filed for divorce.
“They lost a child. And I lost my little sister and my parents.” He shrugged, but there was pain in his eyes, making it difficult for her to breathe. “There was a year or more of
this horrible, unnatural silence. No television, no music. When I look back, I’m sure my mother was depressed.”
He couldn’t have been more than eight or nine at the time, not nearly old enough to understand what was happening.
“And then came the yelling. Well, not from Mom, never from her, but from Dad. The louder he was, the more she cried. It didn’t get any better when he left. In fact, it might have been worse. Grief takes its toll.”
“Oh, Braden. I’m so sorry. I really had no idea.” While she’d heard the story before, she’d been removed from it. She was never at the house without her mother, and Eileen spread joy wherever she went.
“Without your mom…” He shrugged. “Having her here made things bearable.”
More than ever, she understood the offense she’d caused yesterday when she suggested her mother might lose her job. He meant it when he said how much Eileen meant to him.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be melancholy.” He snatched up another cookie. “Where does she hide them?”
“It’s a secret. You didn’t even know they were there, and if I tell you, you’ll eat them all and then I won’t have any when I come over.”
“So you really weren’t going to share?”
She took a great big bite. “Not at all.”
They exchanged goofy grins. Once they faded, the atmosphere ignited.
“Lizzie…”
Even though she should resist him, she wanted him with a ferocity that wouldn’t be denied.
Each motion purposeful, he slipped from the stool and strode toward her.
“Those things in your drawers?” She faltered, unable to express herself. Why had she even mentioned her fears?
Braden captured her shoulders in a touch that was unbelievably light and reassuring. “Yes?” he asked.
“They’re terrifying.”
“They don’t need to be. Everything I own can be sensual and nothing more. It depends on how the toy is used. And I want to be clear about this…I have no expectations of you. We don’t have to use any of them.
Once again, unbidden, her thoughts turned to the rope she’d fondled, the gag she’d seen.