Sheltered by the Millionaire (8 page)

He cupped her hips and drew her closer until his erection pressed against her damp cleft. She rocked against him and his fingers dug deeper into her flesh. Much more and this would be finishing too soon.

He lifted her from him and lowered her back to the bed, sliding on top of her again. She hitched a leg around his, gliding her foot along his calf and opening for him. He nudged against the warm, moist core of her, pressing and easing inside with a growl echoed by her sigh. He thrust deeper as she arched up with a with gasping “yesss.”

Her hips writhed against his, her arms looped around his shoulders and holding him close. She gasped and whispered in his ear, nonsensical words that somehow he understood. He moved inside her, the velvety clamp of her body around him so damn perfect. Like her.

The need to pleasure her, to keep her, pulsed through him along with each ragged breath. He linked fingers with her, their clasped hands pressing into the comforter as they worked together for release. Damn straight he’d been right to wait for her, because being with Megan was more than special. This woman had him tied in knots from wanting her.

And even as he chased the completion they both craved, he was already planning the next time with her, and the next. But first, he had to be sure she felt every bit as rocked by the moment as he did. Whatever it took. He pulled a hand free and hitched her leg higher around him, kissing and stroking as he filled her.

Her head dug back into the pillow, thrashing, her gasps coming faster and faster, the flush on her chest broadcasting how close she was to...flying apart in his arms.

She arched against him, her arms flinging up to lock tighter, draw him closer and deeper as she dug her heels in and rode through each shivering echo of her orgasm.

The bliss on her face sent him over the edge with her.

He growled as his release shuddered through him again and again, each ripple of pleasure reminding him how much and how long he’d wanted this woman.

And how damn important it was to keep her.

* * *

Good sex mellowed a person.

But great, incredible, unsurpassable sex?

That made Megan nervous. She’d been looking for a brief, no-strings affair. What she and Whit had just shared made an already complicated relationship even more tangled.

Megan sat on a barstool at Whit’s kitchen island, wearing his white linen shirt, while the man himself foraged in the refrigerator. He’d tugged on a pair of jeans and nothing more and heaven help her, he offered up an enticing view. His perfect butt in denim...his broad, bare shoulders... She swallowed hard and looked away.

She’d just had the best sex of her life. She should be rejoicing. Instead, she kept thinking about all the ways this could go so horribly wrong. And if it did, that failure would be in her face every single day because living in such a small town made it all but impossible to ignore each other.

Regardless of her intention to keep things light, tonight was a game changer. She knew that. To protect herself and her daughter, Megan would have to tread warily. Easy enough to do since her feelings for him made her jittery.

For now? Her best move would be to get to know as much about him as possible and figure out quickly whether or not to run.

Whit grabbed two bottled waters and closed the refrigerator. He opened a cabinet and pulled out two cut crystal goblets. He poured them each a glass and set them on the island just as the microwave dinged. He’d warmed their crème brulee dessert they’d brought home rather than waiting any longer at the restaurant.

He snatched up a potholder, pulled out the warm pudding and placed it on the island. The image of him all domestic and sexy had her mouth watering.

She eyed the empty bottles and walked to the counter, letting her hip graze his as she passed. “I’ll just toss these for you. Where’s the recycling?”

“Thanks. Check the door beside the pantry.”

She tugged open the door to reveal a line of high-end built-ins, labeled with brass plates. “Be still my heart. This is amazing.”

She smiled over her shoulder at him, then opened the bin marked
glass
. She found it empty and pristine, clearly never used. She tamped down disappointment and tossed the two bottles inside. She turned back to find him standing right behind her with a sheepish grin on his face.

Whit slanted his mouth over hers. “Forgive me?” He kissed her again, then teased her bottom lip lightly between his teeth. “I promise to try to be more earth-friendly in the future. Scout’s honor.”

“I wish you would do it because it’s a good thing to do and not just to impress me.” She enjoyed the bristle of his five o’clock shadow, savoring the masculine feel of him. “But I’ll take the win for our planet however I can get it.”

He chuckled softly against her mouth. “I appreciate your willingness to overlook my shortcomings.”

His hands tucked under the hem of the shirt, cupping her hips in warm, callused hands. Goosebumps of awareness rose on her skin and she stepped closer, her feet between his as she flattened her palms to his bare chest. His heartbeat thudded beneath her touch, getting faster the longer the kiss drew out.

In a smooth move, he lifted her and set her on the island, his fingers stroking along her legs as he stepped back. “Food first. Then maybe we could share a shower—in the interest of conserving water, of course.”

His promise of more hung in the air between them. He opened the silverware drawer and passed her a spoon.

Megan tapped the caramel crackle on top of the crème brulee, Whit’s shirt cuffs flopping loosely around her wrists. “So I told you why I went into animal rescue. What made you decide to go into property development?”

He raised an eyebrow, his spoon pausing halfway to his mouth. “You say that like it’s a something awful.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound...judgmental.” She winced as she set her spoon down and folded back the shirt cuffs. “But I guess I wasn’t successful in holding back.”

“Well, I do have three and half years’ worth of cold shoulders from you to go on.”

“Help me to understand your side.” She spooned up a bite and her taste buds sang at the creamy flavor. Of course, her senses were already alive and hyperaware after both of the spine-tingling orgasms Whit had given her.

“I like building things. I like helping businesses and people put down roots.” He stood at the bar beside her, so close he pressed against her thigh.

“You can build things anywhere. Why destroy wetlands with high-rise office buildings?” Damn it. There came her judgmental tone again. But she had values. She couldn’t hide what she believed in just because it might stir old controversies.

“I’m not destroying the wetlands around here.” He said with an over-careful patience. “I’m relocating them, responsibly and legally. Tell me how that’s a problem.”

At least he was asking. He’d never opened the door to discussion before, just shut her down.

But then hadn’t she done the same?

Now was her chance. “By relocating you’re creating a manmade, imitation version of something that already exists in nature. Why not leave nature alone?”

He scooped up a spoonful of the crème brulee. “I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree on the word imitation.”

“You say you care about the animals and environment by relocating the wetlands.” Frustration elbowed its way into her good mood. She set her spoon down and tried another approach to help him see her side of things. “In order to save animals, I needed the best facility and location possible, which you blocked. Legal and ethical aren’t always the same.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “You landed on your feet. The animals are cared for. I made sure of that.”

“What?”

“I made sure the piece of land you ultimately built on was affordable.”

She wasn’t quite sure what to do with that piece of information. She rubbed a finger along the rim of her crystal goblet. “Are you saying you offered up a diversion so I would back away from the property you wanted?”

“Do we have to rehash this now?” He tempted her with another spoonful of his caramel custard dessert.

“I think we do.” She took the spoon from him, licked it clean and set it down. “I would have been closer to Evie the day of the tornado if the shelter had been built where the original plan called for.”

“Fine.” He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “I can’t make business decisions based on personal convenience and be successful.”

“I understand that. Obviously.” She searched his eyes for a sign of easing, but his expression was inscrutable. “But you also shouldn’t pull your heart and humanity out of your job.”

His eyes narrowed and chin tipped up as he reached to skim her hair over her shoulder, his hand lingering to stroke the sensitive spot behind her ear. “How can I make you get over that grudge?”

“I’m not sure. Show me you’ve changed....” She struggled to think, tough as hell to do with his touch enticing her to just sink into his arms again. “Or convince me you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Megan,” he said, exasperation dripping from that one word. Then he kissed her in an obvious attempt to distract her. “You’re trying to pick a fight with me so I won’t get closer. Am I wrong?”

His breath was warm along her face.

She whispered, “You’re not wrong.”

He nodded, then pulled back, his hand trailing along her arm. “Tell me how teaching your dog to ride a skateboard led you to become a shelter director rather than, say, a lion tamer?”

She grasped the safe topic with both hands, grateful for the reprieve. “I was always the little girl bringing home stray kittens and lost dogs. My mother was terrified I would get bitten or scratched, and looking back I can totally see her point.” She shrugged. “But nothing she said stopped me—you may have noticed, but I’m very stubborn. So my mom signed me up for this thing called ‘Critter Camp’ at our local Humane Society. It was a summer camp for kids. We learned about animal care, animal rights, responsible ownership and yes, animal rescue.”

“Sounds like a great program.”

“My mom had to work overtime to pay for it.” The memory pulled her under, back to those days of her mother scrimping to support her child. Megan understood the fear and weight of that responsibility well. “I didn’t realize that until I was older, begging to go to the camp for the fifth year in a row. But I was hooked. I looked into the animals’ eyes and they needed me. But they also saw how much I needed them. People don’t always realize that they save us just as much as we save them.”

“Why haven’t you started a critter camp here? I’m certain it would be a huge success.”

A dark smile tugged at her mouth and she dropped a hand to his knee, squeezing. “Are you sure you want the answer to that?”

“I wouldn’t have asked unless I wanted to know.” His hand fell to her leg, his calluses rasping along her sensitive inner thigh.

She swallowed hard and tried to think past the delicious sensation. “Lack of space because of the plot of land we had to take as the consolation prize when you blocked the purchase of our original choice.”

“You said you were content with the second location.” Concern creased his forehead, but his hand inched higher.

She clamped his wrist. “It’s farther from the schools, which makes logistics tougher for after-school programs. There are a host of other reasons—”

“Such as?”

“We need space to enlarge the dog park, and then there’s the budget.” She moved his hand back to the counter. “But if you start writing checks to the shelter and offering flights for animals, while generous, that does not buy you time with me. If you want to make a donation, I’ll gratefully accept as the director. But we have to keep that separate from me—Megan, the woman.”

He clasped her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles. “That said, will Megan, the
sexy
woman, have dinner with me again?”

Another brush of his mouth along the inside of her palm made it tough for her to think, but then that was a problem even when they weren’t touching. She needed time to get her head together. She needed to figure out if it was even possible to let this play out regardless of the consequences.

That wasn’t something she could figure out now. “I’m helping with the town hall cleanup tomorrow afternoon while Evie naps. We can talk about it then.” She slid off the barstool. “I should get dressed and go home. I have to think about all that’s happened between us.”

He held on to her hand. “Remember what I said about one-night stands. I don’t do them.”

Could she trust in those words when neither of them knew what the future held? She searched his eyes and saw he believed what he said. For now.

Somehow that only made matters more complicated. “I remember.” She let go. “I’ll see you tomorrow—at town hall.”

Eight

T
he next day, Whit spent hours sifting through the rubble inside a town hall office, his buddy Aaron helping, but there was still no sign of Megan. This whole place was a lot like the mess of his life. His evening with Megan had been right on track. He’d been so certain they were making progress.

Then somehow things had derailed near the end for reasons that went a helluva lot deeper than his unused recycling bins. He still wasn’t sure how they’d steered off course. It was as if they’d both self-destructed by discussing things guaranteed to drive a wedge between them.

And she still hadn’t shown up for the town hall cleanup effort as they’d planned.

After their argument last night, they’d both thrown on their clothes and he’d driven her home, silence weighing between them in the dark evening streets. It was around one o’clock when they arrived, and he’d insisted on walking her to her door, where he gave her one more searing kiss. But she’d drawn the line there. She didn’t want him to come inside where Abigail waited, babysitting Evie.

Work boots scuffling through dusty and crumbled brick, he took another garbage bag from Aaron. The job was too mindless to take his thoughts off Megan and what had happened last night. He trusted Abigail to keep her word to stay silent about their date until they—until Megan—was comfortable revealing the news to the town. But this had gone beyond Abigail. Given that they’d run into the Taylors at the restaurant last night, the whole town would know soon enough anyway.

As if there wasn’t enough to keep everyone occupied. Like rebuilding the town.

The perimeter of town hall had been secured but there was no quick fix to all the destruction, especially inside in the few areas of the building still standing. Town hall had been almost totally destroyed. Only the clock tower had survived unscathed, but since the tornado, the time had been perpetually stopped at 4:14. The planning committee had decided to rebuild on the same location, but the cleanup effort would take time. They had to be careful sorting through the mess. Even in the digital age, there was so much damn paperwork.

Outside, Tyrone Taylor was barking orders to people as if it was his place to take charge. The guy seemed to think he ran the town. Luckily for them, Stella Daniels was there, and she had a quieter approach. A far more effective one at that. She let Tyrone bluster away and quietly followed up behind him giving direction and thanks.

Whit scanned the crowd outside the cracked window, over the parking lot, looking for Megan but she still hadn’t shown. He hadn’t heard from her since he’d driven her home. He’d called in the morning to offer her a ride over, but she hadn’t answered. Was this a replay of the day the tornado hit when she’d shut him out after the kiss?

Being with Megan had been even more incredible than he’d expected. And his expectations had been mighty damn high.

He ground his teeth and focused on what he could fix. “Hey, Aaron, wanna help me lift this bookshelf and put it back against the wall?”

“Sure thing.” Aaron squatted and braced both hands under one side of the walnut shelf. “Okay, Whit, on three, we lift. One. Two. Three.”

Whit braced his feet, hefting and pushing alongside his friend until the bookcase was standing upright again. Files and thick hardbacks littered the floor where it had fallen. They were dry, but some had been soaked in the past, their pages curled and dirty brown. “We can put the undamaged items on the shelf again and stack the ruined stuff on the desk. The staff can decide what’s crucial to keep.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” Aaron scooped up two large volumes and paused, half standing, then pointed to the window. “Check out who just arrived—your shelter director lady friend.”

Whit pivoted fast, then realized he’d given himself away with how damn eager he was just to see her. But he kept looking as she picked her way around a trash dumpster and a pile of broken boards. The sun streamed down on her fiery red hair, which was held back in a loose ponytail. Her jeans and shelter sweatshirt might as well have been lingerie now that he knew what was underneath. She could have been wearing a burlap sack and he would still want her.

Aaron stepped up beside him at the window. “So you and Megan Maguire have made peace with each other.”

“We weren’t at war.” His denial came more out of habit than anything else; he was still focused on Megan, who was now talking to Lark Taylor, a local nurse passing out surgical masks for people to wear in the dusty cleanup.

“Like hell you two weren’t constantly at odds,” Aaron said. “You can’t rewrite history, my friend. We all know how contentious things got over that land dispute when she wanted that site for the shelter. What I can’t understand is how you got her to overlook how you buy up wetlands to build. She went ballistic last time it was mentioned.”

As if Megan could hear their conversation—or feel the weight of Whit’s stare—she turned, her eyes meeting his through the window with a snap of awareness as tangible as a crackle of static. He waved in acknowledgment, then turned back to cleanup detail. “We stay away from controversial topics these days.”

Aaron didn’t let him off the hook so easily. “Ah, you are seeing her. I always thought you had a thing for her under all that bickering.”

Whit didn’t like being transparent but he couldn’t outright deny the obvious. “Why are you so all fired up to know about my personal life?”

“Oh, I get it. Who’s trying to keep it quiet?” His friend elbowed his ribs like they were in freakin’ high school. “You or her?”

Whit leveled a stare at his pal, who was grinning unrepentantly. “Do you want my help with this mess or not?”

“Somebody’s touchy.”

Touchy? That was one way to put it.

He was frustrated as hell that Megan appeared to have returned to their old ways of avoiding each other. Damn it, last night had been a game changer.

Ignoring each other simply was
not
an option anymore.

* * *

Megan said bye to Lark and went in search of Beth. She wasn’t sure if she wanted advice or a buffer, but she just wasn’t ready to face Whit yet, and she couldn’t stand out here shuffling her feet indefinitely.

A voice whispered in the back of her mind, asking her why she’d bothered to come here if she really wanted to avoid him.

Truth be told, Megan wanted to rush into town hall and find Whit, to touch him or even just look at him. And the strength of that desire was the very reason she had to stay away until she found her footing again. No man should have the power to rock her with just a simple glance through a window.

She needed to get her head on straight fast because given the way people kept looking at her and whispering to each other, she suspected that Vera Taylor hadn’t wasted any time in spreading the word about seeing her with Whit at the restaurant last night. Vera liked to pretend she was the expert on couples and marriage and everything else, but the senior Taylors were poster children for all the reasons marriage made people miserable.

But then on counterpoint, she saw the Holt family patriarch and matriarch bringing refreshments to the volunteers. Watching David and Gloria Holt lodged an ache in Megan’s chest. Seeing them resurrected dreams she’d buried five years ago when Evie’s father had walked out, leaving Megan pregnant and alone. The Holts were such a team, married for decades and still so deeply in love. Word around town was that David still brought his wife flowers every week. And Megan was glad Gloria had delivered her baked goods to boost the TCC’s spirits after Megan’s brownies. It was no contest: Gloria was renowned for her blue ribbon fruit pies.

Finally, she spotted Beth’s blond head. Just last week, she and her friend had decided to create compost heaps for rubbish wherever possible. It wouldn’t take care of all the recyclable debris, but it would help.

“Sorry I’m late,” Megan said, kneeling beside a box of moldy computer paper that had been soaked by rain.

Beth swiped a wrist over her forehead, brushing back her hair. “The Holts are adorable, aren’t they? Real soul mates.”

“If you believe in that kind of thing, I guess.” She tugged on the facemask Lark had given her and passed another to Beth.

Her friend pulled the elastic bands around her ears. “You don’t believe in soul mates?”

“Years ago I did. I imagined finding him, getting married and starting a family.” She looked up and shrugged, tossing a moldy ream of paper into the pile. “It’s obvious things didn’t work out that way. But I have my daughter. I love her and I don’t regret having her for even a second.”

But she couldn’t deny life was tougher. Choices were more difficult.

“You don’t mention Evie’s father often. I’ve never wanted to pry, but it’s tough not to feel judgmental of the guy when you’re working so hard to do everything on your own.”

“Thank God I found out what a selfish jackass he is before I married him.” Still, the fallout for her daughter wasn’t so clear-cut. “My only regret is the pain Evie will feel when she realizes he abandoned her. She doesn’t ask about him now, but someday, she’s going to want answers. Telling her he lives very far away won’t be enough.”

“There must have been some positives that drew you to him in the first place.”

The oak tree branches rustled in the afternoon breeze as Megan tugged on work gloves. “I was blinded by his charm.” She dug deeper into the rubble to move past bad thoughts. “He went out of his way to romance me with dinners and trips, gifts that seemed thoughtful as well as extravagant. It was like a Cinderella fantasy after the way I grew up.”

“You’re a big-hearted person who sees the best in people.” Beth reached to give her arm a quick squeeze. “The only person I’ve ever heard you criticize is Whit.”

“And people who abandon their animals.” She scrunched her nose under the mask.

“Surely he ranks a level above them.”

“Of course he does.” Megan kicked through layers of dirt until she found more paper goods for the compost heap and some limp file folders that could go to the recycling pile. “I just don’t want to repeat the past. I let myself believe in love at first sight. I was wrong. It takes time to get to know a person, to trust them.”

“You’ve known Whit a long time.” Beth loaded branches into a wheelbarrow for a bonfire later. “There’s no issue with love at first sight here.”

“I didn’t say I love Whit Daltry.” The L word. Her chest went tight. She tore off the mask to breathe deeper.

“I never said you did. You’re the one who got defensive.” Beth pulled off her surgical mask and guided Megan toward a park bench. “Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. And I’m seeing lots of smoke steaming off the two of you.”

Megan sat down beside her friend, toying with the mask and snapping the elastic ear bands. “I’ve learned the hard way that attraction isn’t enough. And I have Evie to consider now.”

“You’re not the only single mom to have been in this situation before, you know.” Beth squeezed Megan’s wrist. “There’s happiness out there for you.”

She looked out over the volunteers who’d turned up in droves, a town full of people who’d welcomed her into their fold. “I am happy with the life I’ve built.”

“Fair enough. Still, there can be love and a partner for you. There can be a man who wants to be a father to that amazing daughter of yours. But you’ll never know if you don’t try.”

Megan heard the logic in Beth’s words, but accepting what she was saying was easier said than done. “I think we’re all just feeling our mortality because of Craig and the others who died. We’re all reacting out of grief and adrenaline, a need to affirm life.”

“Or the tornado could have torn away your defenses and is making you face what you’ve been feeling all along.”

“Okay, Dr. Freud.” Megan bumped shoulders with her friend. “Do you think we can back off analyzing for a while?”

The crunch of footsteps on downed branches gave her only a second’s warning. She looked over her shoulder and found Whit approaching. Denim and flannel never looked so good. She smoothed back the wisps of loose hair into her ponytail before she could stop herself.

Beth stood abruptly as Whit leaned against the bench. “I think I’m going to head inside and see if Drew needs help. Good to see you, Whit.” She scooped up her mask and jogged toward the clock tower.

The sounds of traffic being routed around town hall mixed with birds chirping. The world was almost normal again.

Almost.

Whit gestured to the scarred bench. “Mind if I sit?”

“Of course I don’t mind.” That would be silly, and she didn’t even one hundred percent understand the turmoil inside her.

“I noticed that your car’s blocked in so I’m offering you a ride if it’s not clear when you’re ready to leave.” His hard thigh pressed against hers. He pointed to where utility vehicles had recently arrived and boxed in her compact.

She eyed him suspiciously. “Did you have something to do with my car getting blocked in?”

“Why would I do that?” He palmed his chest in overplayed innocence.

“You’re funny.” And she was being prickly for no reason. She rested her hand on his knee.

He covered her gloved hand with his. “Just trying to keep you happy. When are we going to make it official and tell folks we’re seeing each other? They all know anyway.”

Panic made it tough to breathe even without the surgical mask. “I need time to figure out what to tell Evie.”

“Well, people are already talking so you should figure that out soon before someone says something in front of her.”

“I know, I know.” She sagged back on the bench, accepting she’d reached a crossroad with Whit. Beth’s words knocked around in her mind. Had Megan just been hiding from her feelings for Whit all along? She tugged off her work gloves. “We just need to be careful with Evie. She’s fragile right now.”

His thumb stroked the inside of her wrist. “Do you think she’s going to be jealous of the time we spend together?”

“Just the opposite. She likes you.” And that had a whole different set of potential landmines. “You’re really good with her and that’s scary too. Her heart’s going to be broken when we—”

Irritation flickered through his dark brown eyes. “You’re dooming this before we’re even off the ground yet.”