More Than You Know (19 page)

“Okay.” He kissed her again, long and slow. “You made my birthday fantastic. Thank you for coming out with me.” His mouth took hers and he nibbled, played lazily against her lips. Her mouth opened for him and she touched her tongue to his, sparking new desire in him. They kissed and cuddled for a long time, just savoring the feel of each other, sealing something new between them without words. Slowly the kisses intensified and her hands tangled in his hair, then she raked her nails down his back, sending shivers through him. He cupped her breast, brushed his thumb over her nipple, and she pressed her body even closer. Then she nudged his hips with hers, his heartbeat stuttered, his blood raced, and their primal dance began again.

 

 

The ride from the marina to Julia's place was silent, in a pleasant and sleepy way. In relaxed contentment, Dane held Julia close the whole way back. Late afternoon sunlight slanted through the windows, tingeing everything with gold. One arm wrapped around her shoulders, holding her to his side, as he let her play with the fingers of his other hand. Her head on his shoulder, she traced his fingers with hers, light and languid and almost . . . affectionate. Something deep inside him warmed at that.

He found himself enjoying the moments of wordless intimacy more than he could believe. She felt good nestled into him, touching him delicately, warm and soft . . . he lifted his hand from her shoulder to play with the thick locks of her hair as the car moved smoothly along.

“This ranks up there with one of my best birthdays,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you for that.”

He felt her smile against his neck. “I'm so glad,” she purred. “You're welcome. Thanks for inviting me. The boat's magnificent, the food was great, the weather was perfect. . . .”

“And the company was perfect,” he said with satisfaction.

She tipped up her face to look at him. He could see a few freckles on her nose that the sun had brought out, and they made her seem younger, sweeter somehow. Adorable. He nuzzled her nose with his before kissing her, taking her mouth with slow, sumptuous sips until the car stopped in front of her home.

“Sure you don't want to join us for dinner?” he asked.

She shook her head. “That's a family thing. Enjoy your time with them. I had you to myself all day. It's their turn.”

He looked deep into her eyes. She seemed so relaxed, floating in a sea of tranquility. At ease with him. He'd never seen her quite like this. It enchanted him, to the point he hated to let her go. Tangling his fingers in her hair, he kissed her a few more times before releasing her. The driver had already exited the car and pulled her bag from the trunk.

“Happy rest of your birthday, Dane,” she said softly. Her hand lifted to ruffle his hair, then trail down to touch his cheek. “Thanks again, for everything today. It was really nice.”

“Thank
you
again.” He kissed her one last time. “I'll see you on Thursday night. Let me buy you a drink or two after your show?”

“Only if you promise to take me to bed after,” she murmured provocatively.

His libido flickered to life in an instant, humming low in his belly. “That's a given, Red.”

She smiled, dropped a quick kiss on his lips, and got out of the car.

Gazing out the window, he watched her smile and thank the driver as she took her bag from him, then walk up the path, up the steps, and disappear into the house.

Dane dropped his head back against the seat, tired but happy. He spent the ride to the restaurant with his eyes closed, mulling through images of the day, a besotted smile playing on his face.

Chapter Twelve

“To you, Dane.” Charles raised his cup of sake in a toast, and his siblings did the same. “Happy Birthday. Many happy returns.”

“Hope you have a wonderful year ahead,” Tess said, smiling with affection.

“Thanks, kids.” Dane grinned, and the three of them clinked their small clay cups and sipped.

“Ahh. Nice.” Dane eased back in his chair. The waitress approached the table and took their orders. She'd only taken a few steps away when Dane said, “Bring on the sushi! I am starving.”

“What'd you do all day, anyway?” Charles asked his brother.

“I went out on Dad's boat.” Dane grinned as memories of Julia riding him mercilessly on the deck of the yacht flooded his brain. “Really good day.”

“You went alone?” Tess asked.

“Nope,” Charles guessed, his eyes narrowing on Dane. “Look at his face. Someone got lucky today. I'd bet the yacht on it.”

Dane laughed out loud. “Well, Dad just lost his yacht, then. Busted.”

Tess's big blue eyes widened. “You took a woman out on the boat?”

Dane nodded and reached for his drink.

“You've
never
taken a girl on the boat,” Tess said in slight shock.

“Sure he has,” Charles said, smirking. “Of course, it was
four
women, not just one. But that's our boy for you.”

Tess's eyes nearly popped out of her head as she gaped at Dane. “Tell me he's kidding.”

Dane just shrugged, unable to wipe the grin off his face.

“I was so pissed!” Charles said. “He invited me along, but since he didn't call until the last minute, I was stuck in a meeting. Poor Dane had to entertain all four women by himself.”

“Something tells me that wasn't a problem,” Tess said, trying to repress a smile and failing.

“Mmm. Good times,” Dane said, sipping his sake. “Yup, you missed out that time, Charles. That was . . . memorable.” His mouth quirked another grin. “But no, today, there was only one woman. Sorry to disappoint you.”

Tess stared harder, scrutinizing her brother's features. “Someone special?”

“Tess is right, you've never taken just
one
woman on the boat to spend a day with her.” Charles leaned in on his elbows. “Fess up.”

Dane shrugged again, trying to keep it casual. “Julia Shay.”

Tess's mouth dropped open as she gasped. Charles stared so hard, Dane thought his eyes would roll out of his skull.

“What?” Dane asked.

Tess stammered, “You said you weren't going to—”

“I know,” Dane said.

“You've never crossed that line before,” Charles said with a hard frown.

“I know,” Dane said.

“You're . . . together?” Tess asked, almost a squeak.

“No,” Dane said, even though a voice in his head whispered,
Bullshit.
“We're . . . just keeping each other company some nights.”

“You're sleeping with your singer?” Charles hissed in a whisper. His incredulous disapproval was palpable. “She
works
for you. What the hell's the matter with you? Are you that reckless, or just insane?”

“Thanks, Chuckles,” Dane said dryly. “Gee, none of that crossed my mind. Ever.”

“You're seeing your employee,” Charles repeated with disdain. “Unbelievable.”

“I'm not seeing her,” Dane corrected him. “I'm . . .” He leaned in to whisper. “It's just sex. We're only sleeping together. No strings.
She's
the one who set that ground rule. I was happy to agree.”

“I'm sure you were,” Charles replied.

Tess shot Charles a scathing look before asking Dane, “How long has this been going on?”

“Only a few weeks,” Dane said. “And nobody knows.
Nobody.
And it needs to stay that way.” He rubbed the back of his neck and blew out a breath.

“Of course,” Tess said.

“You're an idiot,” Charles said, grabbing his cup. He knocked the whole drink back.

“I know,” Dane admitted. “But she's . . .” He shook his head in defeat. “I couldn't stay away from her. I literally couldn't. I've never been this attracted to a woman before. Seriously.” He looked down at his little plastic soupspoon, picked it up, and started flicking it between his fingers.

Tess stared at her brother for a long minute. “You're not just sleeping with her. You like her. You want her.”

“Of course I want her,” Dane said. “She's the sexiest, most passionate woman I've ever met, and that's saying something. She's the first woman who's ever knocked me around like this.”

“No,” Tess said. “No, not just that. That's not what I meant, and you know it. You
like
her. Maybe even have real feelings for her.”

Dane shook his head vehemently, but didn't speak.

“Dane doesn't play for keeps,” Charles quipped. “He just plays. You know that, Tess.”

“Shut up,” Dane said to his brother, suddenly annoyed.

Charles arched a brow and sat back in his chair, pinning Dane with his eyes. “Struck a nerve, did I?” The corner of his mouth turned up. “Then Tess is right. And holy shit.”

Dane looked from one sibling to the other. Fuck, Tess
was
right. He grabbed his own cup of sake and drained it. “No. We're just sleeping together. We enjoy each other. That's it. No strings, no ties, that's the deal. She made that very clear, and I'm fine with it.”

“No, you're not,” Tess murmured, watching him.

“Yes, I am,” Dane insisted.

“I call bullshit,” Charles said.

Dane huffed out a sigh of frustration. “You're both off course. You're making a bigger deal out of this than it is. Of course I like her, as a person. She's smart, and talented, and interesting. She keeps me on my toes, that's for damn sure. But that's not . . . it's not
that.
”

“If you say so,” Tess said, and busied herself with her chopsticks. She broke them apart and rubbed them together to take off the splinters.

Dane didn't know why there was a buzz in his stomach, but there was. And it wasn't the sake. “She's . . . complicated,” he said quietly. He stared at the centerpiece on the table, the delicate white flowers in a tiny vase, and tapped the soupspoon on his leg. “She's been hurt in the past. Badly. I think she's afraid to get hurt again. So she keeps her armor on at all times.”

“And you're not?” Tess said pointedly.

Dane frowned at her in confusion. “No. I'm nothing like that.”

Charles barked out a laugh and said, “Yes, you are! Mister Never-Commit-To-A-Woman. Mister Fun-And-Games-Only.”

Tess leaned in, speared him with her stare, and said, “You have a ton of friends, but your closest, most trusted friends are your siblings. You're thirty-six years old today. You've never had a relationship that lasted more than a month. There's a very good reason for that, don't you think?”

Dane scowled. “I just don't . . . I don't do commitment like that.” Something started gnawing in his gut. “I don't get serious. It's not me.”

“Bullshit,” Charles said, pointing a finger at him. “You get fiercely serious in business. You refused to join Harrison Enterprises, worked damn hard to make your own name, and you've opened over twenty hotels across North America. Your work is important to you. You get serious. Just not with
people.
”

“That's right,” Tess agreed. “Because, Dane, you're afraid of letting someone in.” She covered his hand with her own, and her eyes and voice softened. “All of us are, sweetheart. Because we watched our parents destroy each other. We watched their marriage deteriorate before our eyes. They tried to hurt each other as viciously as they could. And we had front row seats, and we were just kids.” She rubbed his hand, looked at Charles, who was sitting as quietly as Dane was, then looked back to Dane. “They were our role models for relationships, and they were horrible at it. He only cared about Harrison Enterprises and us. He ignored her. She was lonely, so she started having affairs. He was furious, so he drove her out of our lives. She was self-absorbed, he was ferocious. It was a nightmare. And it affected us, all
four
of us. We're all single. It's not a coincidence.”

“Charles got married,” Dane pointed out, grasping at straws.

“Yeah, and it was a disaster,” Charles retorted. “Marrying Vanessa was the worst mistake I ever made. You know that.
Everyone
knows that.”

“And look at me,” Tess said. “Burned badly, twice, and that was enough for me. I don't want to get that close to a man again, or get married. And Pierce? Plays the field, just like you.”

“So all of us have issues when it comes to dating,” Dane quipped. “Yay us.”

“Apparently,” Tess conceded. “You've done nothing
but
date. You
never
got serious. Because, deep down, you were afraid of getting hurt. And you don't even realize that.” She smiled softly. “You were born gregarious, yes . . . but it's also a bit of a front, isn't it? You don't get close. You won't get serious. It's totally understandable, almost textbook, really. Then, on top of that, you watched Charles and Vanessa blow up, then me and Brady. . . .” She squeezed his hand and peered into his eyes. “Dane. I hate to tell you this, sweetheart, but it sounds like you and Julia are a lot more alike than you think. Maybe that's why you're so drawn to her. Not just because she's beautiful, or talented. But because . . . you recognize a kindred spirit. You wear armor too. It's just not as obvious.”

“Tess is 100 percent right,” Charles agreed, folding his arms over his chest. “As usual.”

Dane could only stare at them as all the words sank in and took hold. Yes, Tess was right. Even Charles was right. He'd never gotten serious with a woman, and convinced himself it was simply because he hadn't met the right one, and was too busy having fun. What if he
had
met a possible love connection at some point, but never let her get close enough to find out?

He thought back on various women and situations, even friends through the years . . . no one had gotten close to his heart. Because he hadn't let them. None of it had been with conscious actions or thoughts, but yes, he'd kept people at a comfortable distance all his life, and very likely for all the reasons Tess had listed. Jesus. How hadn't he seen that before? How had he deceived himself so thoroughly? Self-preservation? Was that it?

He scrubbed his hands over his face. Tess was absolutely right, on every point. And maybe, just maybe, he was drawn to Julia so strongly not only for the almost tangible physical connection, but for what Tess had nailed on the head: because they were very much alike after all. Tough on the outside, tender on the inside, that was Julia—but was he any different? He just used his charm and his smile as his armor, whereas Julia's armor was akin to a warrior wearing a full chain-mail suit. Didn't matter. They were
both
hiding. It was mind-boggling to contemplate.

He reached across the table, grasped the small bottle of sake, and poured himself another cup. Charles watched him without a word, but the mixed look of curiosity and concern on his face wasn't lost on Dane.

“You okay?” Tess asked him.

“Sure.” He nodded and downed half the cup. The warm liquid burned a sweet trail down his throat. “I'm fine. Just thinking.”

“Dane,” she said softly, still holding his other hand.

With affection, he squeezed her fingers. “You missed your calling, Tesstastic,” he cracked wryly. “You should've been a therapist.”

 

 

Julia checked her hair and makeup in the mirror one last time.

“I'm gonna go out there,” Kelvin said from behind her, straightening his red-and-black striped tie. He met her eyes in the mirror. “I'll play a bit, just to warm them up, and you come on out when you're ready.”

“I'm almost ready,” she said. “Work your magic.”

“Always. You too. It's a packed house for a Thursday. Let's do this.” He put out his fist and she bumped it in return. “You look particularly gorgeous tonight, by the way. Whatever kind of monkey sex you're having with Dane, it's working for you.” He put on his sassiest, most overexaggerated drag queen voice as he added, “You iz
glowin',
sugarplum.”

She laughed. “Shut up. I am not.”

“Mm-hmm.” He winked and left, closing the door behind him.

Julia sighed and looked at her reflection. Shit, he was right. She
was
glowing a little.

She hadn't seen Dane since Tuesday, but she hadn't been able to stop thinking of him since he'd dropped her off at her house with a long, sumptuous kiss and that devil-may-care smile. He'd texted her Wednesday morning and Thursday afternoon, just to say hi. It made her smile the goofy, besotted smile of an infatuated teenager. And every time she reprimanded herself for doing so, every time she reminded herself firmly
No strings!
, a little voice in the back of her heart laughed and taunted her.
Yeah, right. You wish.

When she first met him, he'd reminded her of Max, which set off big red flags and warning sirens. Both men were rich and powerful, charming and gorgeous. But the similarities were superficial, they ended there. The more she got to know Dane, the more she knew there was a lot more to him than being King of the Charmers and sex on a stick—and holy crap, was he. In or out of bed, all he had to do was look deeply into her eyes, and her blood heated and sang.