Mine To Hold (8 page)

Thank you, Noah. You taught me more about
pleasure than I ever expected.

And she’d made him hungry for more.

Noah balled up the note and shoved it into
his pocket.
We’re not finished yet, Claire.

Three minutes later, he was storming outside
of the hotel. He turned to the bellman. He knew the guy—Blayne—had
started at the hotel just a few months back. “Claire Kramer.”

Blayne swallowed nervously and straightened
his suit.

“Blonde hair, five foot ten. Slender. She
would have left here alone, probably within the last two
hours.”

The bellman nodded. “I saw her. She was in a
big hurry. Only stopped to talk with me for a few moments.”

“Which taxi company did she use?” Because he
could call them. Track her down.

“She didn’t use a taxi, sir. I offered to get
her one but…” Blayne pointed down the street. “She just started
walking that way.”

Noah glared down that street.

It’s not that easy, Claire.

He started walking.

***

Vincent Finch stared down at the senator’s
body. He’d called the cops less than fifteen minutes ago, and they
were already on the scene and trying to push him out of the
room.

“You found him just like this?” The detective
asked. The detective was a woman, barely five feet tall, with
coffee cream skin. Her partner was a blond male, and the guy
towered behind her.

Vincent nodded. “I…I came in to my room
late.” Because he’d been trying to pick up the waitress who worked
at the bar across the street. “H-his door was open. I thought
something was wrong and—” He broke off, gagging a bit, because he’d
seen the spray left behind when the bullet sank into Colby’s
head.

His brain.

“And you said the victim was Colby Harrison?”
The female detective pushed. “Why do I know that name?” she
murmured, as if to herself.

“He used to be a senator.” Vincent swallowed.
He could smell the blood. “From Alabama.”

The detective—she’d introduced herself as
Gwen Lazlo—scribbled down that bit of information.

“I’m guessing a senator could have a lot of
enemies in D.C.” This came from the detective’s blond partner.
Vincent couldn’t remember the man’s name.

After he swiped a hand over his mouth,
Vincent eased out a slow breath. “There was an…incident earlier
tonight.” And Vincent knew that he had to tell them the rest.

“What kind of incident?” the male
demanded.

The screaming match would be in the news.
Vincent had caught sight of the reporter at York Towers. “A woman
from his past,” he muttered. “Her name’s Claire Kramer. She’s in
town. She and the senator…they had words tonight.” Though now that
he thought about it, he wasn’t sure that Claire had actually spoken
to the senator at all during that tense exchange.

“She an ex-lover?” Detective Lazlo asked as
her eyebrows rose.

Vincent shook his head. “She was involved
with his son, Ethan.” He turned away from the hotel room. He didn’t
want to look in there anymore. So Vincent stared down at his hands.
“Ethan went to jail for killing Claire’s parents.”

The blond whistled.

“Sonofabitch,” Gwen Lazlo muttered.
“
That’s
why I remember the guy’s name.”

There was more.
Say it.
“On my…on my
way into the hotel…before I found the body…” His hands clenched.
I’d always felt a bit sorry for her.
“I thought I saw Claire
outside.” He looked up and found the blond watching him.

The blond detective asked, “You think she
might have killed the guy?”

Vincent held his gaze. “Claire’s parents were
both shot in the head. Just like the senator was tonight. And
Claire…Claire hated Colby Harrison.”
With good reason. I hated
the old bastard, too.
“I don’t know if she killed him, I just
know…Claire is a very distinctive woman. You don’t forget her once
you see her.” Maybe he’d been wrong to feel any sympathy for her.
“She was outside of the hotel. She was here.”
Don’t look back at
that room.
“And now Harrison is dead.”

***

Claire sat on the stone steps, her arms
curled around her up-drawn knees. The Lincoln Memorial was behind
her, glowing in all its glory. In the distance, she could see the
Washington Monument, reaching straight up into the dark sky.

Despite the fact that it was close to 4 a.m.,
Claire wasn’t the only one hanging out near the Lincoln Memorial.
So many people were there. Walking. Talking. Taking their
pictures.

Plenty of people.

So why did she feel so alone?

“I figured I’d find you here.”

At that deep, familiar voice, Claire’s head
turned and she saw Noah, walking up the steps toward her. She
scrambled to her feet.

He kept coming. Slowly. Stalking up those
stairs.

Her heart was racing in her chest now. He
wasn’t supposed to come after her.

Noah didn’t stop his advance, not until he
was right in front of her. “Why did you run from me?”

She shook her head.

“You liked being with me. I know a woman’s
body. I could feel your pleasure.”

A lump rose in her throat, and it took Claire
two attempts to actually speak. “I screamed for you,” she
whispered, not wanting anyone but him to hear her words. “I-I…never
expected that.”

“Then why leave me?” His words were harder.
Sharper.

Claire squared her shoulders. Her bag was at
her feet. “Because you don’t fuck your employees.”

He kept staring at her.

“You fucked me, so I’m not your employee any
longer. I thought it would be…easier…if you came back and I wasn’t
there.”

“It wasn’t easy.” He bent and grabbed her
bag. “Where the hell were you going?”

“Some place new,” she told him, her voice
still soft. “Some place—”

“Where you hoped Harrison wouldn’t find you?
Forget him. He’s done. He’ll never bother you again.”

If only she could believe that.

One of his hands easily held her bag while
his other hand brushed over her cheek. “Do you seriously not
realize just how much power I have? I can bury the man. I
will
bury him. You don’t have to fear him again.”

Hope was fragile as it tried to rise in her
heart. She wanted to believe him but…

We still fucked.
Noah had told her
that they couldn’t work together if things got personal. She had to
move on.

“Do you want to leave me?” Noah asked her as
his body seemed to surround hers. “If you do, Claire, if you really
want to go, I’ll let you get on my jet, and I’ll have it take you
any place you want.” His hand fell from her skin.

I want his touch back.

“But I don’t want you to go.” His voice was a
deep rumble. “I want you with me. In my bed. Screaming my name
again. One night wasn’t enough for me.”

It hadn’t been enough for her, either.

He stepped back. “
Your
choice, baby.
Always yours. Stay or go, but you won’t get to cut out on me in the
middle of the night again. If you stay, then you’re mine.”

“My job—”

“I’ll work it out. I’m the boss, and that
means I can do anything.” His eyes glinted. “Even break my own
rules. For you…
I’d break any rule.”

He lifted his hand. Offered it to her, palm
up.

She wanted to take his hand. So badly. So
very badly.

“What’s it going to be? Do you want to be
with me? Or…”

Are you gone?

The question hung between them.

Claire had no one. Nothing. The clothes in
the bag were really Noah’s. If she left, where would she go?

Do I even want to leave him?

Her hand reached for his. His fingers were a
little rough, callused on the tips.

She liked the roughness of his hands. She
liked to touch him.

“I want to stay with you.”

His fingers curled around hers. “Remember
that.” Then he bent and kissed her. She leaned into him, because
right then, Claire thought that maybe, just maybe, she could have a
chance.

Everyone else could live and love.

Why not her?

***

Noah shut the door of the suite.

I’ve got her. She won’t leave again.

Claire glanced back at him. She tucked a lock
of blonde hair behind her ear. Her gaze was nervous. Hesitant.

Did she know just what he wanted to do with
her? To her?

Fucking Claire Kramer had been incredible.
And he planned to do it again and again.

“I won’t be easy this time.” He felt it was
only fair to warn her.

Her eyelids flickered.

She didn’t realize just how furious he’d been
when he returned to find her gone. Women didn’t slip away from his
bed in the middle of the night, acting as if screwing him was
somehow shameful. They stayed. They begged for more. But…

I never want Claire to beg.

He didn’t want her to beg for anything.

“I don’t remember ever asking you to be
easy,” Claire said, surprising him. She turned to face him fully.
She was wearing a snug pair of jeans and a loose top.

She looked even sexier than she’d been in
that black dress.

“It’s going to be hard. It’s going to be
fast.”
Fair warning, Claire.
They were lucky they’d made it
up the elevator. He’d thought about taking her there, but then he’d
remembered the security cameras installed there. He didn’t want
anyone else seeing Claire’s passion. “And it’s going to be right
here.”

He yanked his shirt off and tossed it to the
floor. His hands went to his belt. To the snap of his jeans.

Claire’s gaze was on his chest. Her blue
stare…
heated.

His cock jerked, swelling even more as it
pushed against the zipper of his jeans.

Claire walked toward him. Her eyes were on
his chest. “I wondered…” She licked her lips.

Sweet hell. Lick me.

“I wanted to touch you before,” she
confessed.

Wait, hold the hell up. Claire had
wanted
to touch him? His heart was jack-hammering in his
chest.

Her hand rose, hovering above his shoulder.
Then, while he barely breathed, her fingers lowered and skimmed
over his flesh. Lightly, carefully.

“You’re always so warm.” Her voice was husky.
Pure sin. “I like that.” Her fingers slipped down.

His body wasn’t perfect. Far from it. Scars
snaked across his chest. Some from wounds he’d gotten while he was
enlisted, and the newest came from the attack he’d survived in
Chicago.

The world might think he led the easy
life.

They thought wrong.

“I knew there was more to you,” Claire said
as her head bent. “You’re not just the businessman.”

Hell, no, he wasn’t.

Her lips brushed over the scar on his
shoulder. Then the one that was too near his heart. The bullet that
had nearly ended him.

His muscles stiffened.

Claire slid down his body. Her mouth skimmed
over the scar that wrapped around his side. Then she went even
lower.

Her knees dropped to the carpet.

Fuck me.

“Baby, as much as I like where you’re going,
I can’t wait.” Her mouth on him…
there’d be no control
then.

He didn’t want to hurt Claire. He was far too
close to the edge.

He pulled her back to her feet. Stripped her
in seconds.

“But—”

“Here, Claire.
Now.”

Then he put her against the door. “Are you on
the pill?”

Claire shook her head.

“Don’t
move,
” he growled out the
order.

She didn’t.

In seconds, he was back. He wanted to go bare
with her. To drive deep and feel her hot grip all around him. And
he would…

Soon.

But this time, he’d use care.

He lifted her up against that door frame.
“Wrap your legs around me.”

She did.

“Hold tight.”

She did.

And he thrust into her as hard and deep as he
could go.

Just as Noah had known…the feel of her
sensual grip pushed him right over the edge. There was no holding
back this time. No slow build. No sensual foreplay.

He thrust, and he took.

And he wanted
everything
that Claire
had to give.

She was arching against him. Squeezing him
with her tight little sheath. She was so tight it was almost as if
she were a virgin.

She’s mine.

He lifted her up, easily controlling the
motions of her body. Then he pulled her back down as he thrust
again. He made sure his cock slid over her clit, and Claire
gasped.

Then she moaned.

He did that same move again and again. He was
so wild for her, so desperate. He pinned her to the door. Thrust
deep. Loved it when her nails scraped over his skin.

He put his mouth on her throat. He could feel
the frantic beat of her pulse beneath his lips. Her scent
surrounded him.

When she came, it was
his
name that
she cried out.

He erupted right after her.

Noah’s breath sawed out of his lungs as the
release pounded through him. It seemed to never end, and her sex
was squeezing his cock and damn near making his eyes roll back into
his head.

Finally,
finally,
his heart rate
started to slow down. He was still holding her against the door,
and he hoped he hadn’t scared her. He’d be better next time. He’d
be—

“I like that,” Claire whispered. “Can we do
it again?”

Hell,
yes.

He kissed her.

***

Noah glanced at the clock. “Come on, Claire,
we need to go. The jet’s waiting on us.” The sooner he got her back
to New York, the better he would feel.

The bathroom door opened. “I’m ready.” She
was wearing all black—the woman just looked good in black. Black
pants. Black top. Those sexy shoes he loved.

Get her on the plane, then fuck her.
Those were his immediate priorities.