BRIAN (The Callahans Book 1) (83 page)

              Rose stepped out of the shower, glad that Carter and Layla had volunteered themselves to drive the chemical samples into Madison Alder’s lab, Krylotech Industries in Seattle. The rest of the team was getting antsy, but Rose had done a decent job of updating and motivating them by saying the results of the lab would give One World a strong advantage of not only shutting down the Starlight Energy Pipeline in Bellevue, but perhaps put Montgomery’s company out of business entirely. In the meantime, she delegated specific tasks to each member. Ronnie and Samantha were heading over to the site to take pictures of the construction workers should they engage in any activity. Jess and Malcom were drawing up an amendment to the class-action motion their attorney would ultimately file. And Dahlia and Molly were focusing on making arrangements for One World’s next project, exposing a water treatment facility in Nevada, which was suspected of adding unregulated quantities of fluoride to public drinking water.

              With the majority of her team engaged, she had some time to herself to wrap her head around the Starlight Energy Project and the unprecedented complication of having become involved with its CEO. What had she been thinking?

              Layla had seen her get out of the limo. Carter had been suspicious of her mentioning she’d met with Taylor to negotiate. If she continued this secret affair, it wouldn’t stay secret for long. Her rational side knew she had to break it off, but deep down she didn’t want to, and her clever side kept justifying that if she continued to see Taylor she might be able to convince him to move the pipeline. But was that really what she was after?

              Could there ever really be a compromise when her primary goal was to obliterate companies like Starlight? People like Taylor and his father would never quit. And she had to admit to herself that she wasn’t fighting as strongly and with as much resolve as she ordinarily would be had she not felt drawn to Taylor.

              Rose began drying her hair, shifting the hot stream of her hair dryer through her brown locks and trying not to get annoyed that it was causing her to sweat. Then she stepped out of the steamy bathroom, pulled on a pair of cargo shorts and a tee shirt, and opened her laptop on the bed. As soon as her report filled the screen, thoughts of Taylor had her strangely distracted. What could’ve possibly happened to end his medical career and cause him to go into his father’s business, which seemed so at odds with the health and safety of the population at large?

              She connected to the motel Wi-Fi and typed his name in a search engine, searching for the words
career
and
accident
. A wealth of webpages came up. The first one at the top of the list said “An End to a Promising Career” and featured a photo of Taylor in a white lab coat with his arms folded.

              As she read the article, she learned Taylor had suffered a head injury at one of his father’s charity functions a number of years back. According to the report, he had been acting erratically, babbling and at times running around an outdoor pool where guests were mingling with cocktails. Some of the guests speculated to the newspaper that they believed Taylor had been on drugs, while others thought he possibly had way too much to drink. Whatever the case may have been, Taylor slipped at the edge of the pool, hitting his head before plummeting into the water and losing consciousness. When paramedics arrived and pulled him out of the pool they were able to revive him, but the weeks that followed proved Taylor had suffered a concussion that left him in a disoriented stupor. Determined to return to his position at the hospital, he had convinced the board he could resume, but it had been a terrible miscalculation. During a routine surgery to remove the ruptured appendix of a ten-year-old boy, Taylor had botched the operation, resulting in the child’s death. A malpractice lawsuit ensued, which he lost, as well as his otherwise stellar reputation. Feeling a failure, he had resigned.

              Rose glanced up from her laptop to rest her eyes. It didn’t make sense. Why would a well-respected doctor drink himself into an erratic state at a charity function? Even if Taylor had accidentally consumed too much alcohol, wouldn’t he be concerned enough to wall himself off in a private room and sober up? But he hadn’t. She also couldn’t wrap her head around the possibility that he could’ve been on drugs. He didn’t strike her as the sort to dabble recreationally, and even if he were, why would he do such a thing at a charity function with hundreds of guests present?

              She startled when she heard a knock at the door. Checking the time, she noted it was five in the afternoon, far too soon for Carter and Layla to have gotten back since they’d all agreed the couple should stay at Madison’s lab until the results came in.

              Padding quietly to the door, she asked, “Who is it?”

              “Taylor.”

              The mere sound of his deep voice through the door sent a rush of excitement through her, and she let him in at once.

              Dressed in a thin, blue sweater and black slacks, he stepped inside, and Rose quickly glanced up and down the motel walkway to make sure no one had seen him. When she shut the door and turned, she found him looking at her laptop.

              “I wasn’t trying to pry,” she said, flipping it closed.

              “It’s public information,” he said, shrugging.

              “Have you reached a decision?” she asked hopefully.

              He studied her for a long moment, his gaze traveling the length of her then resting on her face, where he seemed to drink in the sight of her in a way that stirred her attraction to him.

              “Starlight is moving forward,” he said in a tone that hinted at his regret. “Whether I call the order or my father does, it’s happening. I wanted you to hear it from me. I don’t want you to hate me.”

              Absorbing the information, she knew she shouldn't be surprised, but she was, mainly because she had been starting to feel that his interest in her might be big enough to stop the pipeline. But that had been foolish.

              “Please don’t give me that look,” he said. “Why have you dedicated your life to stopping things that can’t be stopped?”

              He looked frustrated. He plowed his fingers through his dark hair, his gaze sweeping through the room but not as though he was taking any of it in.

              “Why have you dedicated your life to making money at the expense of others?” she countered.

              “It’s not that simple,” he said. “And don’t forget that people need natural gas. Starlight is serving a purpose. It’s meeting a demand.”

              Now it was Rose’s turn to be frustrated. He had a point, but she had an entire town of residents depending on her to be effective and save their community.

              “When are you starting up again?” she asked.

              “I’ve put in the order to replace the pipes you destroyed, and they’ll be here first thing in the morning. My father warned me that if I didn’t order Davey Construction to resume at seven tomorrow, then he would. So either way, Rose, this is happening.”

              “You do whatever your dad tells you to do, is that it?”

              He stared at her, but the insult washed over him and was quickly forgotten, or so his eyes told her.

              “I’m here because I can’t stand the thought of you hating me.”

              “I don’t hate you,” she offered in a small voice.

              “But you’re not going to want to have anything to do with me after this.”

              “Well don’t you feel the same?”

              “All I feel right now is that I want you. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

              “Me too,” she said after a long moment of reading his expression. He seemed sincere. And it had been so long since anyone had felt that way about her, so long since she’d heard those words and felt the same. Rose couldn’t help but feel magnetized to him.

              Nearing him, her eyes searching his and her heart so in conflict with her head that she feared she’d come apart at the seams, she ventured to touch his chest, resting her hands there and feeling the strong wall of his pecs beneath her palms.

              Whispering, she said, “I’m not going to give up.”

              “On me? Or on ruining my pipeline?” he asked with a crooked smile.

              “Both, I think.”

              Slowly, he found her waist, tilting his head near hers and drawing her close.

              “God, why do you have to make my life difficult?” he whispered.

              “If I can prove Davey’s chemicals are toxic, will you stop the pipeline?” she asked, always pushing for what mattered most.

              He glanced down at her until she lifted her eyes to meet his.

              “I know exactly what I want right now, and it isn’t to talk about this war we’re in the midst of. Can you give me one night?”

              She certainly wanted to, but going to his suite in Seattle would take her head out of the game. She needed to stay focused and stay near One World, her computer, and her cell phone, so that the team could take the next steps as opportunities arose.

              “Please come back with me,” he said.

              She glanced over her shoulder at the narrow motel bed then smiled at him.

              “I think we have everything we need right here.”

              “Rose, I wish you’d let me show you all the good that could come of the pipeline.”

              She cocked her head at that, questioningly.              

              “I thought you said you didn’t want to talk about it,” she pointed out.

              “I guess we’re both still pushing for what we think is best.”

              “Then let’s agree not to do that, at least for a little while.”

              Lifting her face to his, she found his lips—smooth and warm and firm. He cradled her face, titling her head to deepen the kiss, as their lips parted slightly and his tongue delicately probed her mouth.

              Soon she was feeling for his slacks, the button and zipper, working his pants open until they fell to his ankles. His thighs and hips felt hard against her, and she reached for the hem of his sweater next, as he undid her shorts, urging them down. All the while their kissing became a series of quick, urgent pecks between their efforts to strip down.

              He helped her tee shirt up and over her head and drank in the sight of her when it hit the floor. Her bra was black and basic and her panties matched, but soon he freed her, unfastening the hook and eye at her back and peeling the cups away.

              A hot rush of excitement surged through her when his hands squeezed her breasts then stroked down her stomach, tracing the soft curve of her body. She was tracing him, as well, feeling his arms, his muscles, as she brushed him, shoulder to wrist.

              “I want to spend hours with you,” he groaned. “Take my time.”

              She smiled and let out a breathy laugh, eyeing his boxer-briefs, the way they hugged his bulge, his thighs. She hooked her fingers under the waistband and stole another kiss—this one firm, which they both held, breathing each other in for a moment.

              Gently, his strong fingers explored beneath the thin material of her panties, sending a hot wave of arousal through her. She was throbbing for him, her legs turning rubbery, the bed calling to her.

              Stepping backwards, she guided him to it, but he wouldn’t let her lower to the covers. His hands gripped her hips, as he stared down at her hungrily, meeting her gaze and clenching his jaw as if it were all he could do to hold himself back from taking her. His large, warm hands found her ass and squeezed, as he got to his knees, helping her widen her stance.

              The mere anticipation had her breathless. She glanced down at him, as he kissed her stomach then her thighs, lips traveling in narrowing circles until his warm mouth met with the thin material of her panties.

              Overcome with desire, she ran her fingers through his hair, watching him, her gaze tracing his broad shoulders, the curves of his lean muscles, as he pulled her panties down and groaned at the sight of her naked and wet.

              He kissed her slowly and blew lightly between her legs. She moaned at the sensation of his hot, soft lips pressing into her, and when his tongue licked over her labia, swirling around her clit next, she moaned so loudly that she feared a team member might hear through the walls.

              Though he didn’t urge her, she sat on the bed before her knees could give out and spread her legs. Palms behind her on the comforter, she leaned back, and Taylor touched eyes with her as he stroked his tongue up and down.

              “You taste so good,” he groaned, and the breath he let out blew cool over her hot, wet skin in such a way that heightened her pleasure.

              When he returned his tongue, he focused on her clit, tracing circles around the sensitive mound. She could feel it building, the tingling rush of heat, the ache across her skin that caused her to quiver for a deeper touch.