A Trap So Tender (6 page)

She frowned, partly because her attention had settled on a huge
painting of a young man next to a stag, in a woodland setting. The painting
filled the end of the corridor and was over life-size. From the man’s clothing
she could tell it was eighteenth century. “That painting is stunning.”

“I suppose so. All I notice is the way his eyes follow you as
you walk past.”

She squinted at it. “But he’s looking off to the side.”

“Not the man. The stag.” He swung sideways and headed down the
stairs. She paused for a moment. The stag was staring right at her with big,
liquid brown eyes. “Goodness.” She hurried after him. “I see what you mean.
There’s a lot of pressure coming from different directions.” She glanced over
her shoulder to see if the giant beast was still watching her. He was. “What did
you say the family motto was, again?”

“Keep your blade sharp.” He grimaced slightly. “Good advice in
the business world.”

“At least you can cut your losses quickly with a sharp blade.”
She was trying to lighten the mood, but James stopped and stared at her.

“Yes, you can.” Then he frowned and continued down the
stairs.

* * *

As expected, dinner was an
elegant repast at the long, polished table. She asked him questions about
managing the estate, partly to learn more about him but mostly because she was
burning with curiosity about how such an archaic endeavor worked in the
twenty-first century.

“So the estate is self-supporting?” It was hard to believe the
thousands of sheep that kept the grass neatly mowed also paid most of the
bills.

“Only just. The market in organic wool fluctuates from season
to season. I’ve been told the next step is to start producing our own luxury
products, sweaters and such, but I don’t have the appetite for that kind of
business.”

“Why not?”

“Not enough volume. The luxury business is all about producing
and selling small amounts of goods with a high margin. That’s not scalable
enough to pique my interest.”

“But you own luxury hotels and buildings. Surely that’s
similar.”

“Nope.” He sipped his wine. “In addition to collecting income
from wealthy lovers of luxury, you are also sitting on a long-term gold mine. My
grandfather’s mantra was ‘never sell the land!’ and I’ve taken that to heart.
The land is where true value lies, long-term.”

Fiona cut her roast beef, heart pounding. She was already
pretty sure he’d jumped on her father’s factory for the land under it. What
would he want with an outdated garment factory? How would she convince him to
part with that land if his personal beliefs told him to clutch it to his chest?
“Surely you sometimes sell property.”

“Hardly ever.” He smiled. “At least not yet. I suppose there
might always be a price I couldn’t resist.”

She smiled back, already feeling a tingle of relief. “Would it
have to be a very high price?”

“Oh, yes. Something more than money.” He leaned back in his
chair. “And I’d never part with this place, of course. No matter how much I
sometimes want to.”

“That would be like selling your own DNA.”

“I’d part with my own DNA sooner. Let them use it for research
purposes. My cells will make more DNA.” He’d finished eating and simply sat,
watching her.

She put down her knife and fork. It was time to take her plan
to the next level. Butterflies danced in her stomach, which didn’t go well with
the roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. “Something more than money.” She raised a
brow, hoping it looked flirtatious rather than accusatory. “Like a dare,
perhaps?”

He tilted his head, obviously intrigued. “I can’t say anyone’s
ever made an offer like that. I might have to consider it.”

She worked hard to keep her breathing steady. She didn’t want
to move too fast and have him put the pieces together. “Well, I am looking for a
new project. Since you obviously have a keen eye for opportunity, I’m thinking I
should steal one of your cunning ideas for my next business.”

He laughed. “I suspect you can come up with something far more
interesting on your own.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Your expertise might be a complement to mine
and produce something better than either of us could do alone.” It wasn’t easy
to think business with James looking right at her with unconcealed desire in his
gaze. Worse yet, his striking good looks and sharp mind made arousal bubble up
inside her and no doubt gleam very obviously in her eyes. “You’ve already built
a firm foothold in Singapore, for example, whereas I’m new to the place and
still trying to figure it out.”

“Singapore is on the cutting edge of the known world.” He
obviously appreciated her interest in his chosen home away from home. “A meeting
place for minds and products from all over the world.”

“Every container ship filled with goods has to pass right by
it, due to simple quirks of geography.”

His eyes sparkled. “Exactly. Until someone invents hovering
aircraft to carry container loads of goods, it will continue to be the
preeminent international gateway.”

“Hmm.” She pretended to chew her lip thoughtfully. “Maybe I
should get back to work on my goods-­transportation aircraft plan.”

“I’d be the first to invest.”

Or try to steal my business.
She
managed to keep a straight face. “But as you said, I don’t have an appetite for
that kind of business. I enjoy spotting trends and defining style. I think my
next step will be into retail.” Her brain was running like a sprinter. She’d
visited her dad’s old factory, which was a dated and decrepit one-story building
on a down-at-heel street, only one block away from a glittering retail strip. It
would be a fantastic spot for a hotel, but she couldn’t fake an entry into that
realm. Too far away from where she was now. “I’ve learned a lot about branding
and creating something hip from my decal business, and I thought I might dip my
toes into the fashion industry.”

“Creating product, or reselling someone else’s?”

“Maybe both, with a strong internet presence and a flagship
store in Singapore.” On the exact spot where her father’s factory stood. “I have
a lot of ideas for the clothing, so I want to start by finding the right space
for my store.”

She hoped her nose wasn’t growing. Her blood pressure was
certainly rising, along with that infuriating pulse of arousal that kept surging
through her whenever their eyes met. If only they hadn’t kissed already! It was
painful to remember how quickly and totally her body had responded to his.
Chemistry, that’s all it was. Something that could be replicated in a lab and
probably switched on and off at will in a group of unwitting test mice. She
could control it, and even use it to her advantage.

“I certainly know Singapore well enough to suggest some ideal
locations. We’ll have to walk around together next time we’re there.”

“Excellent.”

* * *

James took Fiona’s hand and led
her into the library. He’d sent the staff away early, to ensure them total
privacy. He had a strong sense of something important and momentous about to
happen. “Would you like a drink?”

“If you’re having one.” She smiled and sat on the wide leather
sofa. She was being too polite and he could tell she still felt uncomfortable in
the unfamiliar environment. He wanted to put her at ease.

“Champagne is good for every occasion, in my opinion. Let’s
celebrate the birth of your next business venture.” He pulled a bottle from the
fridge concealed behind wood paneling.

“Isn’t that somewhat premature?” She crossed her shapely legs,
sending a jolt of heat to his groin.

“Not at all. The most important part of a new business is the
idea. Once you have that, everything can grow organically from there.”

“So now I just need to add fertilizer and water?” She smiled as
she took the champagne flute.

“Exactly.” He sat next to her. The hairs on his thighs prickled
with sensation at being so close to her. There was something different about
Fiona. She didn’t simper and coo and flirt as so many girls he met did. She was
serious and thoughtful and funny. And very beautiful.

She raised her chin as she tilted her glass, and desire swelled
inside him as her soft pink mouth closed around the glass. He longed to feel her
lips pressed to his again. Arousal had throbbed inside him like a dull ache all
afternoon, and he’d determined not to act on it again. He’d already moved too
fast, and he didn’t want to scare her off.

She might be the one.

Excitement flashed in his chest at the thought. Could he
finally be about to choose a partner and start a family? It didn’t seem
possible. He’d told himself for so long that it wasn’t meant to be. Since he’d
met Fiona suddenly all his thoughts had shifted and rearranged themselves like
furniture in a house that’d been redecorated by a keen-eyed designer. Things
that seemed pointless, foolish and impossible just a week ago now gleamed with
exciting possibilities.

And he had to be careful not to blow it.

Her dark hair, shiny and silky, swung forward as she placed her
glass on the coffee table. He wanted to run his fingers through it. But he
resisted and took another sip of champagne. “How did you learn to ride?” Another
delicious surprise.

“The same way everyone else does. I took lessons.” She smiled.
“I’m rusty now. Haven’t even sat on a horse for a couple of years.”

“You certainly handled Taffy like a pro.”

“Taffy was a very gracious host. I felt like a medieval
princess up on such a huge horse, galloping through a remote landscape. I can’t
wait to do it again.”

“Neither can I.” Riding with Fiona was one more item on a
rapidly unfurling list of things he couldn’t wait to do. But kissing her had
risen to the top.

One kiss, no more.
He had to be a
gentleman. She was his guest and despite their sudden intimacy, they’d known
each other only a few days. The wait would be well worthwhile if she were as
perfect for him as he’d begun to suspect.

Before he had time to think it through, his mouth met hers.
Heat flashed over him as he drew her close, finally giving in to the urge that
had bedeviled him since their kiss earlier that day. The scent of her drove him
insane, and he had no idea why. Her slim, athletic body felt sensational in his
arms, and before he knew it one of his hands was exploring her well-toned thigh
and backside, and a raw shudder of lust rippled through him.

She kissed him back with passion that stoked the flames ripping
and rising inside him. He could feel her hands tugging at his shirt, and he
gasped with pleasure as her cool fingers met the skin of his back. Before he
knew it his own fingers had caught hold of the zipper on the back of her dress
and were exploring the soft skin beneath it.

Get a grip, James.

But he couldn’t. Fiona’s hands now wandered into his waistband,
making him inhale sharply as his erection thickened. She sighed in his ear, a
soft, sweet sound that made all sensible thoughts fly from his brain.
Oh, Fiona.
He wasn’t sure if he said the words aloud
or not. Reality seemed very far away, though he was keenly aware of helping her
out of the fitted black dress that hugged her trim curves so enticingly.

Naked on the sofa except for her sleek black bra and panties,
she was an unbearable temptation, desire shining in her dark brown eyes and a
flush of arousal darkening her cheeks.

She unbuttoned his shirt and tugged it off, then licked his
chest in a way that made him groan unexpectedly. He returned the favor by
removing her bra and letting his tongue explore the sweet curve of her breasts
and the elegant arch of her neck.

Her fingers sent shock waves of heat traveling through him
everywhere he touched, and his erection was now rock hard. As she helped him out
of his pants, he knew this was heading in one direction and one direction
only.

“We need a condom,” he managed to rasp, clinging to the last
shreds of common sense. He knew he had some in his bedroom, but that seemed a
thousand miles away.

“Don’t worry. I have it covered.” She didn’t hesitate for a
second, her hands now tugging at his underwear and releasing his very obvious
arousal. Her mouth moved over his erection, and he wondered if he was going to
lose consciousness entirely as she licked and sucked him into a state of near
madness.

Her body was both soft and firm, enticing and athletic, and he
ached to wrap himself around it and sink in.

Which he did.

Fiona’s sweet sighs almost undid him as he entered her as
gently as he could. She responded immediately, lifting her hips and joining with
him in a rhythm that started out slow and deliberate, like a waltz, then grew
more and more frantic and frenzied, a crazy tango, until they were shifting
positions and pressing their skin against every part of the sofa in an effort to
prolong and sustain the intense and erotic pleasure that flowed between
them.

It took every ounce of his honor, manhood and self-control to
hold back until Fiona climaxed, then he let go with a sense of relief he’d never
felt before. They crashed together onto the now-sticky leather and held each
other tight, gasping and groaning and soaking in the waves of incredible
pleasure.

She’s the one.

He knew it as he knew his own name. He didn’t love her, or
anything so simple and prosaic as that. He didn’t even know what love was. But
he knew he could spend his life with this woman. Something about her touched a
raw nerve deep inside him, and obviously tapped a rich vein of desire. So much
for his silent pledges to be a gentleman.

He laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“I was going to keep my hands off you tonight.”

“You failed miserably.”

“I know. And that doesn’t happen often. I must be losing my
mind.” He kissed her soft cheek, pleasure and happiness swelling in his
heart.