Some Like It Hot (14 page)

“Tom?”

“Yes, Tom Swank, a business associate of mine and also a good friend. He was in the World Trade Center when it went down.”

Gina heard the pain in his voice. “I’m sorry, Mitch.”

Mitch nodded, accepting her words of regret. “Tom and I had a meeting that morning.”

Gina sat up straight in her chair. “You were in New York that day?”

“Yes. And I was to meet with Tom at eight but a phone call from my office delayed me. It saved my life.”

“Oh, Mitch,” Gina said as a lump formed deep in her throat. She shivered at the thought that Mitch could have been one of the victims and thanked God that he hadn’t been. And her heart went out to Tom Swank’s family. “Was Tom married?”

“Yes, and he had a six-year-old son. That’s when I began examining my life. I thought it was so fortunate that Tom had had a child that he had spent time with; a child who would carry on his legacy. It made me realize what I didn’t have.”

“I always wanted to give you a child, Mitch, but you didn’t want one,” Gina said, her voice rising slightly.

“I know,” he responded quietly. “But that was then. If I could turn back the hands of time I would get you pregnant in a heartbeat.”

Their eyes held. Neither spoke. Both knew they could not turn back the hands of time even if they wanted to.

“Ah, I suggest we go ahead and get started,” Gina said, clearing her throat and reaching across her desk to turn on the tape recorder. It was time to move on. “Rumors have been circulating for the past three months that you’re having an affair with model Lori Brasco. Is it true?”

“There’s no affair. Lori and I are nothing more than friends who share the same interests.”

A good reporter would ask just what those interests were, but Gina decided she really didn’t want to know. “What about your alleged affair with department store heiress Nicole Lane?”

“Nicole and I dated a few times but that’s it,” he said as he casually undid the top button on his shirt. Then the second. And the third.

Gina tried not to notice what he was doing but found she was watching him anyway. She swallowed and forced her vision back down to the paper in front of her. “Do you ever plan to remarry?”

“Yes.”

Gina’s head snapped up, surprised he had answered so quickly and with such conviction. “You think you’re good husband material?” she asked curtly. That question was also not on the paper.

“Now that I’ve learned from my past mistakes, yes.”

Gina sighed. The interview was going badly. She wasn’t asking the questions she should be asking and was asking some she shouldn’t. “And what have you learned, Mitch?”

He smiled. It was a beautiful, rich smile but at the same time it was serious. He stared at her for the longest moment before replying. “I’ve learned not to ever take a wife for granted again. I also learned that success is just a level of achievement, but a wife is a gift, a beautiful gift to be loved and cherished. She’s not a possession to be picked up and played with on a rainy day…or made love to when the urge to do so strikes you. I’ve also learned that although it’s a very enjoyable part, there’s more to a marriage than sex. And I’ve learned to appreciate the good times in a marriage, as well as the bad. But more importantly, I’ve learned to appreciate a wife.”

Gina’s throat was so thick she could barely swallow. She was supposed to remain neutral, unattached, and unbiased, but she was doing a poor job of it. “And what brought on this stunning revelation?”

Mitch held her stare when he said, “Losing my wife, the woman I had loved more than life itself. I had two years to analyze what went wrong with my marriage and what I could have done to make things right. In the end I acknowledged all the mistakes I had made and didn’t like myself very much, so it became crystal clear why in the end she didn’t like me either.”

Gina fought the tears that clouded her eyes and waited a few minutes before asking softly, “Does your wife know that?”

“She does now.”

Dragging her eyes from his, Gina fumbled with the paper on her desk. “If you plan to remarry, do you have someone in mind?”

“Yes.”

A part of Gina’s heart felt crushed with that one single word. She should be happy for him, glad that he had realized the importance of taking care of a wife properly, but she felt saddened that someone else would reap the benefit of that lesson. All she could think was that another woman would wear the name of Mrs. Mitchell C. Farrell.

When seconds ticked by and Gina didn’t say anything, Mitch asked, “Aren’t you going to ask me who she is, Gina?”

Gina slowly lifted her gaze to his. Hurt and anger filled her eyes. “Why would I want to know that?”

“For the interview.”

That single statement made her remember that she was indeed supposed to be conducting an interview with him. She swallowed tightly. “All right. Who is she? Who is the woman you want to marry? I’m sure there are a lot of women who would want to know.”

She watched Mitch stand. Then she watched him slowly walk over to her desk. She tried to concentrate on him and not the bare chest revealed by his unbuttoned dress shirt. When he reached her desk she tilted her head back to look up at him. With him standing over her, she was acutely aware of everything about him. He was looking down at her, drawing her in and making her feel cornered, restrained, and desired. There was a hot look in his eyes. One she recognized and had come to know well during the time they were married. The question that suddenly crossed her mind was: how could he want her
that
much but intend to marry someone else?

“How, Mitch?” She voiced the question before she realized she had spoken, but she knew he clearly understood what she was asking. When he reached out and touched her chin with his finger, every nerve ending within her body ignited with heat, which flooded her face at the same time it flooded the area between her legs.

“I would think the answer to your question would be obvious, Gina.
You
are the woman I want to marry.”

It took Gina a minute to find her voice, then she exclaimed, “Marry!”

“Maybe the proper word should be remarry.” Mitch couldn’t help but appreciate the shocked look on Gina’s face. It was priceless. She stared up at him with eyes so filled with astonishment he was tempted to kiss the look right off her face. Satisfied he had finally made his intentions clear, he crossed his arms over his chest and waited for the rest of her reaction.

She shook her head as if to clear it, making her hair tumble carelessly around her face before taking her hand and smoothing it back in place. He immediately felt aroused. That simple act was too sexy for his peace of mind. As he continued to look at her, he saw he had successfully boggled her mind and squelched further speech. Then all too soon she got it back.

“You can’t really mean that!” she said, coming to her feet, which forced him to take a step back.

“And why can’t I?”

“Because it makes no sense, Mitch. Until you came to town last week, I had not seen or heard from you since…since…”

“Trevor’s wedding,” he supplied easily.

“Yes, Trevor’s wedding, and that was almost a year ago.”

“And your point is?”

She stared at him for a long moment thinking her point should have been obvious. “My point is that we don’t have a relationship, Mitch. Other than having been married once we no longer share a connection. After our divorce you went your way and I went mine. Although we remained friends, you didn’t call me on the holidays, I didn’t call you. You didn’t send me
I’m thinking of you
cards and I didn’t send you any either. In other words, you and I have not shared a life, a thought, a concern, or interest for almost two years, and for you to—”

“There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think of you, Gina.”

She glared at him. “Oh, is that right? I’m sure that will probably come as quite a surprise to all those women you have dated since our divorce.”

“They meant nothing.”

She frowned, her eyes narrowing. “And you expect me to believe that?”

“Yes, I see no reason why you shouldn’t,” he replied, meeting her glare with one of his own. “I loved you, Gina. I loved you with all my heart. That kind of love can’t be turned off with a divorce.”

“You didn’t love me, Mitch, not really. You loved your work. You desired me and you wanted me.”

Mitch looked at her and got the uneasy feeling that she actually believed what she was saying. “That’s not true, Gina.”

“It is true,” she said venomously.

“If you believe that, then I’ll have to prove otherwise.”

“I don’t think you can.”

He saw serious doubt in her eyes and took a step toward her, capturing her in his arms. “The hell I can’t,” he muttered moments before kissing her with purpose. He opened his mouth fully over hers, effectively absorbing her gasp of surprise and her breath of existence. His tongue slipped inside—tasting deeply, exploring thoroughly, and claiming completely. He heard her soft moan of protest and deliberately ignored it when she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss with equal intensity.

The kisses they had shared earlier that day were nothing compared to this. The sexual hunger that had been clawing at him since his return to Houston had taken over his mind and body. He could still remember the first time he had kissed her, the first time he had exploded inside of her, and the first time she had screamed out his name in a torrential climax. Those sensuous memories of the past invaded his thoughts and combined with the pleasures of the present, hammering away at the last thread of control he had.

Her hips were moving instinctively against him as he kissed her with an all-consuming hunger. They fitted together perfectly, just as always. Desire flared between them and he knew she was as out of control as he was. No matter what she said or thought, Mitch knew that for him this was love. Love of the purest and richest kind. No other woman had ever made him feel this way.

Only Gina could make him want to give her the sun and the moon and not settle for giving her anything less. Only Gina could make him appreciate being a man because he knew he had her as his woman. And only Gina could make him want to stay locked inside her body—real deep and extremely tight—for the rest of his life.

He eased his hand under her blouse wanting to touch her everywhere and deciding to start with her breasts. He had always loved the feel of them in his hands, especially the feel of her nipples hardening from the caressing brushes of his fingertips. He knew just what type of bra she was wearing—one made of lace with a front closure. He sucked in a ragged breath when he unsnapped it easily, then traced a path with his fingers over her delicate skin.

“Mitch!”

His name was a whimpering sound on her lips. Without responding he leaned forward and gently captured a nipple between his teeth, then began laving it with the relentless stroke of his tongue. First one breast and then the other received his hot attention. He glanced upward and saw her eyes flutter closed as another sound, this one a sweet, delectable groan, escaped her lips. When she looked like she was about to swoon, he pulled his mouth from her breast long enough to lift her so she could wrap her legs around his waist.

Walking over to the chair, he settled her in his lap and kissed her lips again with such urgency that she responded in kind. It was as if he wanted to eat her mouth up, frantic for the taste of her and almost delirious with desire for yet something else. His fingers skimmed her leg moving upward to her thigh. Pushing her skirt aside he sought out bare flesh. He drew in a deep breath when his fingers inched higher. The feel of her electrified every nerve ending in his body and caused additional heat to flood his bloodstream. Two years had been a long time without this, he thought, wanting with every part of his being to bury himself deep inside of her.

His hand came in contact with silky panties and he slowly, methodically, skimmed his fingers over the soft material seeking the easiest opening to slip underneath. He found it and heard her soft gasp when he touched bare skin. Her flesh felt soft, smooth, and delicate. Wet.

He cupped his palm over that area between her legs that he had branded his on their wedding night, feeling the heat of it at the exact same time that he felt a shiver touch her body in response to him touching her so intimately.

She tilted her head back and looked at him through glazed eyes. It had been a long time since he had seen that look, and he suddenly realized just how much he had missed it, had missed her, had wanted her and needed her. Having her in his arms this way and knowing just how much he loved her, he bent his head to hers and kissed her deeply. At the same time his hand shifted the lower part of her body to accommodate the fingers he’d slipped inside of her. He felt the jolt of her body against him but continued to kiss her as his fingers penetrated her beyond the satiny folds of her flesh.

“Mitch!” She freed her mouth from his and her face dropped forward on his chest.

He heard the desperation in her voice. He also heard the urgency. “What do you want, Gina?” he asked, whispering the words in her ear as his fingers continued to intimately caress her. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

She slowly lifted her head from his chest. Her gaze was heated but he knew his eyes were just as smoldering. “You. Inside me. Now!”

Sweat dampened Mitch’s forehead at her words. But he wasn’t ready to put an end to his torment or hers. “No, sweetheart, not yet.”

Not yet?
Mitch’s words whirled around in Gina’s head. The urge to mate with him was so strong she didn’t want to wait. Her mother had been right. Her body knew this man and it wanted and needed him in the worst possible way. It was letting her know that two years had been a long time. Tonight it had no shame, just outright greed. It wanted it all and was too desperate to offer any type of resistance, not that she wanted to anyway. There was nothing casual about this, nor was this something she could walk away from. Her body and all the elements within it were reacting to the only man it had known, wanted, and loved.

She couldn’t help wondering why he was torturing her. Why didn’t he give her what she wanted and obviously needed? She bit down as the heated movement of his fingers inside of her continued to arouse her beyond comprehension, escalating her desire.

Leaning forward she kissed his mouth, his throat, and the part of his bare chest exposed through his shirt. If she was going to be tormented then so was he. Her tongue glided over him, licking his salty dark skin. She reached up and undid the rest of the buttons on his shirt, wanting to expand the area where she could taste him.

She heard his groan and sharp intake of breath when her tongue came into contact with his nipples. She could feel him straining beneath her, his erection fully grown and hard. She lifted herself off him just a bit and reached down to unzip his pants. Sticking her hand into the opening she heard his tortured groan and felt his stomach tense when she slipped her fingers beneath the waistband of his briefs to take control of the part of him that she wanted. He felt big, powerful, and hot in her hand.
Oh, so hot and hard.

“Let go,” he growled in her ear in a voice that was fast losing it. She had begun stroking him just the way he had taught her; the way that gave him immense pleasure.

“I’ll let go of you when you let go of me,” she announced flippantly.

Instead of letting her go, he arched his back and worked his fingers deeper inside of her. He looked up at her to see the play of emotions on her face. He felt her hand tremble, but she did not let go of him. In fact she met his smoldering gaze and continued what she was doing. Her fingers were working their magic on him, very gently and very thoroughly, smoothing his flesh all the way down and up again. When an explosive curse broke forth from his lips she smiled naughtily, and with an arrogance that could only match his own asked softly, “You want to take a bet on how long you’ll last, Mitch Farrell?”

He frowned. She knew she was pushing him to the limit and was enjoying every damn hellacious minute of it. “No, I don’t want to bet,” he rasped, barely able to think straight. He had taught her the art of seduction too well.

“Then give me what I want, Mitch. Now! No more games.” She softly whispered her command blatantly clear in his ear.

“Okay, you’ve convinced me,” he said huskily and stood with her in his arms and quickly headed toward her bedroom.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you’ve been here before.”

He laughed and looked down at her. “I have. In your dreams.”

She shook her head, grinning. “You’re kind of sure of yourself, aren’t you, Mitch?”

“Do you deny it?”

He placed her on the bed and stepped back. His eyes were dark and hot as he looked at her, waiting for her to answer him. “Do you deny it?” he repeated.

Gina inhaled deeply. He stood before her with his shirt unbuttoned, revealing the most gorgeous chest any man could possibly possess. And due to her brazen handiwork, his pants were unzipped, with the most proud male part of him unashamedly exposed. She thought he was the most virile man she’d ever seen. And he was right. She remembered the dreams she’d had of him just last night, not to mention the ones she’d had occasionally over the past two years. He had been in this bedroom with her before—right in her dreams.

“No, Mitch, I don’t deny it.”

The thought that she had dreamed about him brought a sexy smile to Mitch’s lips. “Well, baby, I’m about to make your dreams come true,” he said silkily, slowly removing the belt from his pants.

Gina reclined in bed and watched him strip, definitely enjoying the show. She had always thought he had one hell of an incredible body, and seeing it again only reaffirmed her belief. He was hard and muscular in all the right places; his shoulders were broad and his hips narrow. And she didn’t want to even concentrate on his thighs. They were Herculean thighs. Strong, solid, and built. She remembered all too well the feel of those thighs rubbing against hers while he pumped relentlessly into her, bringing her body pleasure beyond measure.

“Now it’s your turn to take everything off.”

She met his gaze and slowly slid out of bed. “You sure you want to watch this?” she asked, grinning. “It might bore you.”

“I doubt that,” he said, taking his turn reclining on the bed to watch her.

Trying to drag things out for as long as she could, just to torment Mitch some more, slowly, ever so slowly, Gina removed her skirt. Her blouse followed and then the bra that was half off anyway.

“You are perfect, Gina.”

She smiled over at him. “Full of compliments, aren’t you, Mr. Farrell?”

He returned her smile. “Among other things.” He slid off the bed and stood. “Come here, Gina.”

Not hesitating, she walked over to him and took the hand he held out to her. He picked her up in his arms and placed her on the bed. “I don’t want to use this until the last possible moment, Gina,” he said raspily, displaying the condom he held in his hand. “Is that all right with you?”

Gina remembered her mother’s words. There would still be a risk if he waited until the last possible moment to put the condom on. She looked at that part of him, large and hard before her. They had never used a condom when making love since she had always been on the Pill. One of the pleasures she had always gotten while making love to him was the feel of him exploding inside of her while her inner muscles gripped him, and squeezed out of him everything she could get and then some. But still…

“Are you sure about that, Mitch? What if…”

“What if I forget? What if I lose control and don’t want to stop and take the time to put it on? What if I’m buried inside of you so deep I don’t want to come out?” He paused a moment, then said huskily, “And what if I’m driven beyond reason to make you pregnant?”

Gina wasn’t sure just how long she stood there, unable to speak. Then she regained her wits. “But you don’t want children. You didn’t want them while we were married so why would you possibly want them now that we’re divorced?”

Mitch slowly shook his head. Evidently she still didn’t buy into his theory that they wouldn’t be divorced for long. He had every intention of remarrying her, baby or no baby. She belonged to him and would always belong to him. He loved her and would spend the rest of his life proving that to her if he had to. “But what if I was that driven, Gina?”