An Inconvenient Obsession (6 page)

His kiss began softly, drugging her senses before it transformed to a greedy, voracious sort of worship. His hot tongue delved deep inside, confident and sure, and she trembled in pleasure, her soft whimper lost beneath his questing lips.

They’d discovered kissing together, learned the nuances of mouths and tongue and arousal, and her body remembered every lesson he’d ever taught her. His lips softened as he toyed with hers, nipping at her mouth with a playful pinch of his teeth before, impatient, he resumed his aggressive exploration.

His hand pressed down between her back and the leather chair, sliding low around her ribs and then hauling her out of the seat and up against him. She arched into his heat, moaning
as he tugged her closer, grinding the hard ridge of his arousal against her belly. Squirming, she lifted to her tiptoes to enhance their fit, and he leaned back, dragging her forward and up until their groins aligned.

Pleasure raged, building to an almost terrifying intensity as passion roared between them. Blind to everything but this moment, Cate met him kiss for kiss, touch for touch, her fingers clinging for purchase against the tight swell of his shoulders.

But when his hand shifted to her breast, his palm grazing its sensitive tip, she lurched sideways with a shuddering gasp. It was too much, too soon, and her loss of control frightened her beyond anything she could have anticipated. Disoriented and stunned, Cate fell forward against the desk, pressing her palms against the glossy surface. She struggled for balance while the room spun and her legs quavered. Wracking, shuddering pulls of breath fractured the air within her lungs while inner tumult and the annihilating pleasure of his kiss robbed her of any coherent protest.

“Cate.” His voice sounded smooth. Controlled. As if he hadn’t just eviscerated her will with one searing kiss.

She looked up to find he’d collected her coat.

He held the cream wool aloft, one black brow arched in challenge. “My driver is waiting.”

E
THAN
didn’t remember escorting Cate outside, his banked desire urging him to seduce Cate
here, now, atop Carrington’s damn desk if need be.
Somehow, his will coerced his body into submission and they arrived at his limousine without him losing all semblance of civility. He handed her onto the heated leather seat, closed the door and marshaled his teetering control with a hissing inhale. His skin hummed with awareness and the thought of two uninterrupted hours of time with Cate nearly sent him over the edge. Taking advantage of the bracing October air, he pulled in another steadying breath before opening the door and sliding in next to her.

“Long Island. The Carrington estate,” he told Walter before easing back into the seat, flipping on the dome light and activating the privacy panel.

Cate watched the black panel of glass slide upward, her pulse jumping visibly against her throat. She’d plastered herself up against the door, almost as if she intended to hurl herself out to the pavement should he dare to slide close enough to touch her. Not that he blamed her. If what had happened in her office were any indication, he’d be hard-pressed to stop the raging inferno of lust that flared the moment he tasted her mouth beneath his. As it was, her scent alone, with its intoxicating undertones of vanilla and citrus, tempted him
to forget finesse and take her now, against the supple leather, the consequences be damned.

But no. He intended to savor his seduction, to prolong the sweet taste of her submission before he crushed her.

“Buckle up,” he told her, feigning calm as he fastened his own seat belt. “We don’t want to jeopardize that beautiful neck of yours.”

She started and then fumbled for the seat belt, cinching it tight across her lap. Lacing her trembling fingers together, she pressed them against the chrome buckle and then dropped her focus to the backs of her thumbs.

He allowed her the moment of retreat, using the time to adjust his plans. He’d reacted to her bewitching kiss more than he’d anticipated, while the exquisite vision of her swollen mouth, bared shoulders and the slim column of her throat merged with the worn memories of the Cate he’d once treasured. He’d meant to keep the Cate of his memories separate from the coldhearted beauty he knew her to be. The fact that kissing her had somehow blended the two didn’t sit well in his gut.

The Cate of his memories didn’t exist. She never had. He couldn’t allow her to lull him into thinking otherwise.

He had to remember that beneath her enchanting surface lurked a cruel, vindictive liar who used men for her own desires. He couldn’t allow himself to forget the way she’d used him and then discarded him.

Though time had ripened Cate’s beauty to the point that just looking at her aroused him to a painful degree, he could not allow his emotions to become involved. Yes, her lush body had gained curves in the years they’d been apart, and yes, her girlish features had matured into those of a woman in her prime. But it didn’t matter. She couldn’t matter.

He told himself he was glad that her wide eyes, as clear as the Caribbean Sea they’d swum in as children, looked haunted
now. Sad. Grief over her father’s death had sculpted her face into a fragile composition of delicate cheekbones, thin wings of brow and plump, pink lips. He wanted to revel in her grief, to rejoice in her pain, but kissing her had twisted his emotions so thoroughly that he felt almost human again.

The sensation was not pleasant.

Ethan opened the side bar, poured a tumbler of Scotch and extended it toward her. “Drink?”

She shook her head without looking at him.

Undeterred, he tossed back a burning swallow.

It didn’t help.

Cate’s profile still drew his gaze. As he traced the shadow and light that gilded her features, he reminded himself that she hadn’t married for good reason. Surely, she’d had offers. If not for her beauty, then for her wealth.

But she’d rejected them all, undoubtedly with the same cool disregard she’d shown him. She was her father’s daughter, after all, and no one would ever be good enough.

He took another fiery swallow of Scotch while visions of his triumph played in his mind. Soon, he’d find his pleasure between Cate’s creamy thighs, consume her cries of ecstasy and make her beg for more and more and more. And when he was done with her, when he’d exorcised her from his very bones, he would be the one to walk away. He would be the one in control.

Perhaps then, he would finally be able to destroy the memories that still arose during his unguarded moments. Perhaps then, he’d no longer see her heart-shaped mouth, her smooth brow, or the satiny curve of her cheek in the faces of nameless strangers. Perhaps then, he’d finally see she was just like every other female he’d met. Shallow. Forgettable. Interchangeable.

Once he’d satisfied the inconvenient desire for Cate, once he’d dispelled all traces of his adolescent dreams of animal
pleasure, he could finally claim a measure of peace. He didn’t fool himself into thinking he’d find happiness. He certainly didn’t want love. Hell, he’d given up believing in such illusions years ago. No, it would be enough just to rid himself of her, and to prove, once and for all, that she meant nothing to him.

They rode for several miles before Ethan’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “So tell me, Cate, why haven’t I seen you on the dressage circuit lately?”

She dared a glance at him, finding his eyes unreadable and remote. She didn’t trust his expression. Didn’t trust his motives. How could he have kissed her so thoroughly and not be affected? Looking at him, at his expectant expression, it was as if the kiss had never happened.

Yet she still felt the memory of his touch humming against her skin. She could
feel
the banked arousal simmering beneath the surface, sparking in the air between them. It made her uneasy. And she didn’t know how to navigate the minefield of the past without revealing her susceptibility to him. “I don’t compete anymore,” she finally said.

“No?” He arched a disbelieving brow. “But horses and riding were your life.”

You were my life.
“I developed other interests,” she said with a noncommittal shrug.

His eyes narrowed, assessing. “It was because of your accident, wasn’t it?”

“What?” she blurted.

“Your accident,” he said softly. “That’s why you stopped riding.”

“How do you know about that?”
What else did he know? Oh, God, what if he knew?

“I understand it was touch and go for a while there, that you were lucky to have survived, let alone—”

“I don’t know who supplied your information,” she interrupted. “But they exaggerated.” Forcing lightness, she swept a hand over her once-crippled legs. She couldn’t bear it if he knew about her damaged body and the scars that would forever handicap her future. She couldn’t bear his pity. “As you can see, I’m fine. No worse for the wear.”

“But you stopped riding.”

“I don’t like riding anymore.”

A low rumble of laughter filled the air between them. “You. Don’t like riding.”

She bristled beneath his sarcastic tone. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

A cocked ebony brow told her all she needed to know. “You’re not a quitter, Cate.”

“Spare me,” she warned with a huff of breath. “Father spent the last nine years of his life delivering variations on the whole ‘get back on the horse’ lecture. I’m immune to it.”

He inclined his head, a subtle sign of reluctant acquiescence. “All right, then. We won’t talk about your sudden aversion for the horses you once loved. Why don’t you tell me about the men you’ve dated instead?”

Before she could stop it, a startled laugh erupted from her throat. “Me? Dating? Ethan, if your sources were any good, you’d know the answer to that already.”

His gaze intensified. “You’re right. Maybe I should have asked why you haven’t dated anyone seriously.” His expression turned dangerous. Seductive and sultry as his voice dipped low. “Have you been waiting for my return?”

She averted her eyes while the truth curled within her stomach. “Of course not.”

“Then why have you denied all the men who’ve pursued you? Surely there was a decent one somewhere in the bunch.”

“I got tired of competing with my stock portfolio for a
man’s attention.” She softened the bitter statement with a flutter of her hand. “It’s much easier to avoid the whole dating scene altogether than to try to divine a man’s true motives.”

“You could always date a rich man.” He slanted her a smoldering glance, warming to the idea. “A man like me, for instance.”

She laughed nervously at that, shaking her head. “Subtle. It’s a wonder you and your ego can both fit in the same car.”

“We’ve come to an agreement, he and I.” His eyes glinted with focused intent, heating her despite her efforts to keep the conversation light. “I get him what he wants—you, namely—and he leaves me alone.”

“Let me guess. You learned these outrageous flirting techniques from all those supermodels, didn’t you?”

The glint in his eyes turned feral. “Cate Carrington, have you been keeping tabs on me?”

A blush blossomed in her chest and quickly burned a path to her hairline. “No. But I’d have to be both blind and stupid not to notice that you’re the featured real estate mogul in every other issue of the gossip magazines.”

Her denial seemed to amuse him, as if he somehow acknowledged her lie and was willing to tolerate it. For now. “Yet you accuse my sources of exaggerating,” he said, leaning forward to trace a finger along her upper arm.

She withdrew from his touch, her stomach trembling at his nearness. “Not all pictures lie.”

He watched her, his beautiful mouth crooked in an unnerving smile. “What can I say? I took a gamble on the American Dream and it paid off. In Europe.” His intent gaze held too much confident prowess to put her at ease. “Can I help it if my success attracts tall, leggy brunettes?”

Cate swallowed, shifting her thigh away from contact with his splayed hand. “I can see it’s a real trial for you, juggling so much female attention along with the demands of business.”

“Yes, well, I
do
have good employees who are able to pick up the slack on occasion.”

“Did any of them come to New York with you?”

“You mean besides my entourage of models?” he asked with a sarcastic tilt to his lips.

She shot him a speaking glance. “They’re not your employees.”

“A couple of them actually are,” he said. “But to answer your question, yes. I brought a team of twelve while we do some scouting for new properties. But we won’t be here for long.”

“Not enough interesting properties here in the States?”

“Not at all. There are plenty. But as talented as my board of directors and developers in Europe are, I still have to be on site for the big decisions.”

“Of course you do.” She cocked her head. “You don’t relinquish control to anyone, do you?”

“What successful businessman does?”

She acknowledged his point with a nod.

“Even with the right people on a team, bringing different strengths and resources to the table, there will always be a need for leadership.”

Cate studied his face, trying to understand the gradual transformation that had turned the boy she’d loved into the successful, driven man seated beside her. “You’re a good leader, aren’t you?”

His white, predator’s teeth flashed. “Depends. According to some, yes. But to others, I’m a manipulative, domineering bastard.”

“You?” She arched an amused brow. “Never.”

They exchanged a smile, a smile that didn’t seem underscored by defensiveness or anger, and Cate felt a small glow of happiness collect in her chest. “I always knew you’d do well, Ethan.”

His smile lost its moorings. “Really.”

She nodded while her stomach fluttered with nerves. “That’s why I did it, you know.”

“It?” he clarified, his mouth now a grim line.

Biting her bottom lip, she dared to meet his eye. “Sent you away.”

Anger slammed back into his expression as quickly as it had disappeared, burning like live coals within the brittle blue of his eyes. “I don’t want to discuss the past.”