Surrender (8 page)

Looked like he’d found something for her.

I sent off a response to him, then called her. She answered on the first ring.

“Great news!” I said. “You’re to come up to Kam—to Mr. Maldonado’s office on Monday morning. Nine o’clock.”

“Why?” she asked.

“I think you’re being transferred.” I scooped up my purse and hooked the strap over my elbow.

“No way!”

“Don’t quote me on that.”

“Ohmygod!” she practically shrieked into my ear. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem.”

“What did he say? Do you know anything?”

“He didn’t say anything. Just to have you come up and meet with him Monday.”

“If I get the transfer—oh crap, gotta go.”

The phone cut off.

If I had money to bet, and I am the betting type, I’d lay two-to-one odds on the fact that Clarence was standing in her cubicle.

At exactly five, I headed downstairs. On the way down I took a little detour through my old department to see if Julie was still in her cubby. No, she’d left.

I drove home. Nobody there. Joss was gone. I was alone. Hungry. I checked the refrigerator. Nothing to eat. I decided to splurge, called in a carryout order from Antonio’s and asked for delivery. Then I changed into some comfortable clothes and flopped onto the couch to catch up on all my favorite shows. Two hours later I’d eaten way too much pasta, I was still alone, I’d watched a couple of shows, and I was bored, bored, bored.

I scrolled through my phone, looking for someone to go out with. I tried a couple of numbers, including Julie’s. No answer.

My phone chimed. I had a text.

Hoping it might be Julie or my brother, I checked it. I hadn’t heard a peep from Joss all night. That wasn’t a good sign.

The text was from Kam.

 

Where are you right now?
his message read.

 

I answered.
Home.

 

 

A drink! Had he changed his mind about our relationship remaining purely professional?

 

 

Pick you up in twenty,
he texted.

 

 

I jumped up from my couch and ran to my room. I tore through my closet, searching for something to wear. Kam had bought me all those gorgeous clothes in New York, over ten thousand dollars’ worth. And I couldn’t find anything that was quite right for going out for drinks. Most of the clothes I’d bought were for work. Suits and blouses. Blazers and pencil skirts. Trousers. The few evening pieces I’d bought were fairly formal, either very long or extremely dressy. I wavered between a pair of black pants and a blouse that was semisheer and one of the more casual evening dresses I’d bought. I tried the blouse and pants first, then changed my mind and went with the dress. It was charcoal gray and clingy, knee length, and made out of a smooth knit that hugged my curves and made me look ten pounds thinner. I opted for a pair of adorable, bright coral patent leather heels, a coral necklace, and gold bag.

I was stuffing my wallet into my purse when a knock on the door signaled Kam’s arrival.

My heart hopped like a rabbit.

I took a deep breath before opening the door.

That breath left my lungs in a swift whoosh when our gazes met. His eyes were dark and full of emotion. He stepped in, pulled me into his arms, and crushed me to him.

“I missed you,” he said in my ear.

“I . . . missed you too.” I tipped my head back so I could look him in the eyes.

He stared into my eyes for a moment, then his gaze wandered down to my mouth.

My tongue slipped out, moistening my lips.

My heart started thumping against my breastbone.

Was he going to kiss me? Had he decided the whole I-won’t-touch-you-again thing wasn’t going to work?

His head dipped lower, lower. But just when I expected his mouth to meet mine, he pushed me back slightly and he took a step away. His face was the shade of a pomegranate. “You look great.”

“Thanks.”

“We’d better go.”

“Okay.” After I double-checked to make sure I had my house keys, I proceeded out the door. Kam steered me to the sleek black sports car parked outside my apartment building, his hand resting ever so softly on the small of my back. I sat in the passenger seat while he circled around the front and took his place behind the wheel.

Within seconds we were zooming down the road.

It was a gorgeous night. Not too warm. Not too cool. The vehicle’s windows were open just enough to let in some fresh air without blowing my hair all over the place like a maelstrom. But inside the vehicle there was an odd tension. It seemed to pull at me, make me uneasy.

I was the one who broke the silence between us. “Thanks for helping Julie out with a transfer.”

“Actually, I couldn’t get her a transfer. Not yet.”

“Oh.” Julie was going to be very disappointed. I felt bad for her.

“I want to meet with her to find out why she is looking for a new job,” he explained as he braked the car for a red light.

“Oh. I don’t know if she’ll tell you that.”

“I hope she will. Do you know?” he asked.

“I have some idea.”

He turned his head to look at me. “Tell me.”

The light changed to green. I pointed. “I think I’d rather let her decide whether she wants to tell you.”

“Fair enough.”

We drove for another few moments without speaking. I switched back and forth from admiring Kam’s profile—he was such a stunning man—to watching buildings and cars fly by. The tension between us was still as bad as it was when we’d first gotten in the car. I was the one, once again, who broke the silence. “How was the rest of your trip?”

“It was work. I don’t like leaving town. It wasn’t bad when you were with me. But once you left . . .”

Did my presence really mean that much to him? “It was pretty strange coming to work every day and not seeing you.”

He smiled at me. It was the kind of smile that made a girl’s heart literally skip a beat. “You say that now, but you’ll probably wish I was gone again by Tuesday.” He steered the car onto the freeway.

I didn’t believe that for a minute. In fact, he had just returned and I was already dreading when he would have to leave next.

“We’ll see about that,” I said as the weight of my words sunk in. The truth was, I was falling for him.

Falling hard. Falling fast. Falling for my boss.

8

“T
hank you for accepting my spur-of-the-moment invitation.” We were stopped at an intersection after having driven about twenty minutes on the freeway. While Kam waited for the light to change, he gave me a long, assessing once-over. “I was surprised to learn you were home alone on a Friday night.”

I shrugged. “I was in the mood for a quiet night.”

“Did I ruin your plans?”

“Nope. Not at all.”

Neither of us said anything else until we were pulling into a dark parking area behind a towering brick and steel building. I just kept wondering what was going to happen tonight, after my rather awkward departure from New York. And he seemed to be in a very quiet, introspective mood. As strange as it was, I was okay with the quiet. I didn’t feel like I had to fill the minutes with eager chatter.

“Have you ever been to the Cavern?” Kam asked as he shifted the vehicle out of gear, parking behind the building.

“No.”

“I hope you like it. I’m not much for crowds, but this place is pretty nice.” He unfolded his large frame as he got out of the car, then circled around to my side and opened my door. Seconds later, he escorted me to the club’s back door and knocked.

“Isn’t this a service entrance?” I asked.

“Like I said, I don’t like crowds.”

The door swung open, and a man greeted Kam with a handshake and a big, friendly smile, welcoming him inside. As Kam steered me through the open door, he introduced me to our host, Miron.

Miron gave me a quick up and down before extending a hand and offering one of those bright smiles. “Good to meet you.”

“Miron owns the Cavern,” Kam told me as we zigged and zagged around hustling cooks in the kitchen. The scents of food made my mouth water, and the deep throb of music pounded through my body.

“Only because Kam lent me the money to get the place up and running,” Miron said over his shoulder.

“You had a great business plan.” Kam was behind me. “It’s been a solid investment.”

“Yeah, well, you were the only one who saw the potential.” Kam smiled. “Which has paid off nicely.”

The two friends shared a laugh. And Miron pushed open a door, leading out of the kitchen and into the dimly lit, sexy main space of the club. Two walls were brick, the black ceiling a soaring twenty feet or so up. Directly to my right was a stage for live performances, currently empty. And in front of the stage was a dance floor, also empty.

“Have a good time, you two.” Miron motioned us out.

“Thanks.” Kam gave Miron’s hand another shake, then steered me through the door with gentle pressure on the small of my back. My skin prickled beneath my dress as my nerves responded to his touch. “It’s a little early yet. This place will be packed in a couple of hours,” Kam explained as he directed me toward the wall at the far end of the space. In front of the wall was an arched bar, unmanned. On either side of it were exits that led out to a smaller, more intimate lounge area with padded leather booths. Kam motioned me to the farthest booth. I sat.

Before I’d had a chance to say anything, a waiter approached us, smiling. “Mr. Maldonado. It’s good to have you back, sir.”

“Thank you. I’ll take a bottle of Chardonnay.”

“Very good. I’ll be back shortly.” Off the waiter went, to fetch our wine.

Kam’s gaze locked on mine. “Are you sure I didn’t ruin your evening, calling you last minute like this?”

Ruin? How could he think he had ruined my night? He had done nothing to wreck it . . . yet. “No, not at all.”

His lips curled into a semismile. “I didn’t feel like being alone.”

It struck me then, for the first time, as I gazed into his dark eyes that he might be lonely. A man who looked like a model, who had enough money to buy anything he wanted, anytime, lonely. A man who spent hours upon hours talking to people, Lonely. A man who probably had women throwing themselves at his feet, lonely.

My heart jerked in my chest.

“I understand,” I said. “Actually, when I said I was in the mood for a quiet evening, I lied. The truth is, I didn’t have plans either. I ate dinner and had burned through all my TiVo shows already. If you hadn’t called, I probably would’ve just gone to bed.”

His expression softened. “Why a beautiful woman like you would be forced to spend Friday night alone . . .”

Beautiful. Kam Maldonado called me beautiful. My face warmed. “Thanks for the compliment. But it’s not anyone’s fault but my own. I don’t try to get out and meet people.”

“Neither do I.”

The waiter made a show of bringing our wine and pouring some into a glass for Kam to sample. After taking a sip and giving a quick nod of approval, Kam waved him off with a pleasant thank you, then poured a glass for me.

I sipped. Delicious. Fruity but not too sweet.

In the distance, music started playing. Soft, sultry music.

Drinking his wine, Kam watched me over the rim of his glass. “Do you want to dance?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” I recalled the last time he’d held me, how confused and conflicted he’d acted. And how confused and conflicted his actions had made me.

“Friends dance, don’t they?” he asked, tipping his head slightly.

“Friends?” I echoed. “Is that what we are?”

“I’d like that. Would you?”

I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to be
friends
with him or not. A part of me liked the idea of having a safe, nonsexual, but personal relationship with this enigmatic man. But another was worried about how even a friendship might affect our working relationship. I also worried about the fact that I was so attracted to Kam. How I felt when he touched me. How I felt when he kissed me.

And how I felt when he didn’t.

The truth was, my body craved his touch. It craved his kiss. When he wasn’t touching me, I wanted to move closer, lean in, close the distance between us.

Friends. Friends? Could I be friends with a man I was so drawn to?

What if he started dating another woman?

How would I handle that?

My stomach twisted.

“Abigail?”

His voice yanked me out of my head, away from that awful what-if and back to the current moment. Our gazes met, and my insides flittered like little trapped butterflies.

I sputtered, “Yes, sure. Friends.”

He chuckled. “You sound so enthusiastic. Am I that much of a bastard?”

“No, no!” I shook my head as I fingered the stem of my wineglass. My gaze dropped to the table, to my hand. His was resting on the table, not far from mine. Within reach. But I couldn’t touch it, hold it. Just like the man himself. Within reach but forbidden. “That’s not the issue.”

“Abigail?” That hand, the one I had wished I could touch, reached for mine. His index finger stroked the back, ever so softly. “What is the issue?”

“Well . . .” My gaze lifted again, swept over his face. His brows were pinched. His lips turned down slightly at the corners.

He stood, took my hand in his. “Come, dance with me.”

“But—”

He pressed an index finger to my lips. “Shhh. It’s only a dance.”

Only.

Dancing involved standing close. And touching.

Touching.

A quiver of need raced through my body.

He led me back through the doors and down to the dance floor. It was empty. The whole place was empty, except the two of us. The lights were low, red and blue colored beams casting a deep glow over us.

Kam pulled me to him, placed one hand on my back, and lifted my hand with the other. He swayed his hips. “Do you dance?” he asked, speaking softly in my ear.

“A little,” I said.

He tightened his hold on me and started following a set of simple rumba steps. Slow, quick, quick. His hips were rolling as he moved. It was a seduction as much as a dance, and it made my heart thump heavily in my chest, my body warm.

The hand on my back slid down toward my butt, but his feet kept up that simple pattern. Slow, quick, quick. Slow, quick, quick. My heart was thumping out the beat. My body undulating to the rhythm. I was melting into him. We were moving as one. Our bodies writhing to the music, limbs entwined.

He snugged me tighter, until my entire body was flattened against him. The scent of his skin and cologne filled my nose. I breathed it deep, pulling it in, relishing it. My nipples hardened as they were gently grazed through the layers of our clothes. A steady throb pounded through my body, heat pooling in the deepest part of me.

How I longed for his touch. His kiss.

This was no dance. It was torture. Cruelty beyond words.

The bastard.

What the hell was he trying to do? Crush me? Destroy me?

“I can’t.” Surprising myself, I shoved him and hurried away.

Didn’t he know what he was doing? How could he not realize how confusing this hot-and-cold act was?

“Abigail, wait.” He ran to me, catching me by the waist and jerking me around. “The dance isn’t over yet.”

“Yes, it is.” Breathless, I glared into his eyes. Even as I said those words, my hands skimmed up his body and he began swaying his hips to the music again.

We were dancing.

We were fighting.

We were living a strange, beautiful moment. It was magical.

His head tipped forward and his lips found mine. The kiss was as sensual and intoxicating as the battle-dance. I skimmed my hands up his body to his face, cupped his cheeks. I held him, refusing to let the kiss end. My lips parted as I sucked in a deep gasp, and his tongue slid into my mouth, filling me with the decadent flavor of man and wine.

My knees suddenly felt weak and soft.

No man had ever danced with me like this, kissed me like this, made me want him so much.

I whimpered. I shuddered. I grabbed fists full of hair and kissed him with all the emotion that was blasting through my body. And he possessed me. My mouth. My body.

His hands stroked. His tongue claimed. He took and took, and gave and gave.

When I couldn’t take another second, I murmured, “Please, Kam. I’m begging.”

He eased back, gently loosening his hold on me while keeping me steady. “Dammit, Abigail. Dammit.”

“Don’t!” My hands lifted to my lips. They were still tingling. And his flavor lingered. My tongue slipped out, dampening them, tasting him.

Looking conflicted once again, he reached for me, but I jerked away. “I didn’t want to do this, Abigail. That’s not why I called you tonight.”

“Why did you call me tonight?”

“I . . .” He jammed his hands through his hair. “I wanted to make up for what happened in New York.”

“The drugging?”

“Not just that. Everything.”

“Everything?” Feeling slightly chilled, I wrapped my arms around myself.

Once again he reached for me, but this time he jerked his own hand back. I didn’t have to move out of his reach. “I meant it when I said I didn’t want to do this to you anymore. And here I go again, pawing at you like a horny high schooler. I’m an asshole.”

“No. You’re not—”

“Yes, I am. First, I take advantage of your situation, forcing you to agree to a ridiculous, illegal, and slightly immoral arrangement because of something your brother allegedly did. I still don’t know what the hell really happened regarding him. And then, when I try to make it right, I mess with you until you’re so confused you think you want me to keep doing it.”

Was that what was happening?

Yes, maybe.

No.

I wasn’t confused. I wanted him to touch me, to hold me, to kiss me. I wanted him to want me as much as I wanted him. And maybe now it was time to let him know that. Maybe if he knew how I felt he would stop playing this game. “I’m not confused.”

“Of course you are.”

“No, I’m not.” A hard knot of emotion twisted in my gut, and I felt my body tensing. “Don’t tell me what I am or am not feeling,” I snapped.

“But—”

“No, listen to me.” Adrenaline was flowing through me now, making me feel high, making me feel powerful. I grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked. The fabric gave way, revealing a slice of muscled chest and tight stomach. “I want you.”

Something dark flashed across his face, but he didn’t move. Not for one, two, three seconds. Then he lunged at me, hauled me against him, and kissed me. This kiss was nothing like the last one. That one had been a seduction. This one was feral and raw. A plundering. As his mouth possessed mine, he half carried, half dragged me to the nearest table in a dark corner, lifted me up on it, and pushed his hips between my thighs.

“Yes,” I said on a sigh as he ground the hard lump in his pants against my burning tissues. “Yes.” I wrapped my legs around his waist, holding him against me.

He shoved his hands into my dress, pulled the cups of my bra down, allowing my breasts to spill out, and pinched my nipples so hard I shivered. I was burning up, melting, losing my mind. Everything in the world had narrowed down to this one small space, where one sensation after another pummeled my system. The sound of our labored breathing, the scent of my need blending with his cologne, the sight of his beautiful face as he angled back just enough to pull my panties down and unzip his pants.

His cock sprang out, thick and erect and glistening with precome.

“Tell me you have a condom.” He was breathless.

So was I. “I don’t. But I have an IUD.”

He found my entrance and, hands cupped under my ass, slammed his hips forward, surging into me.

The sensation literally made my head spin. I shut my eyes and clung to him as he took me hard and fast. The thrusts were powerful, urgent, exactly what my body craved. And with each one, my muscles tensed harder, heat swirling round and round within me, pushing me closer, closer to the pinnacle.

He literally lifted my bottom off the table, deepening his possession. His cock pushed deep inside, teasing the entry of my womb. Filled me to utter perfection.