Taming the Tycoon (11 page)

“I was going to bring you up some breakfast in a bit,” she said.

Nathaniel glanced at her, his pulse picking up as their gazes locked. No way would they have made it out of that bloody decadent bed if she’d brought breakfast up to him.

Damn it.

He took a step toward her, his gaze on her mouth, as the urge to touch her refused to be quelled any longer. “Addie—”

But his grandmother chose that moment to appear and he pulled himself back from the brink.

“Mmm, something smells good, my lovelies,” she announced.

…

The limo ride home was, as Addie suspected, exactly the same as the ride to Devon. All busy, busy, busy. Tap, tap, tapping on the laptop, shuffling of reports and the
ring, ring, ring
of incessant calls.

And, in between, a whole lot of silence.

Addie looked out the window, content to wait him out. She understood he was running scared. She’d seen the confusion in his eyes just as his grandmother had interrupted.

Rome wasn’t built in a day, after all.

Sooner or later, he was going to have to say something to her. Unless he planned on slowing the limo down just enough to open the door and kick her to the curb as they passed the docks on the way to his office, he was going to have to give some sort of good-bye speech.

One she suspected he was churning over and over in his head, despite the flurry of activity.

Two hours later, country fields had ceded to the suburban creep of Greater London and the car slowed as city traffic, even on a Sunday, affected vehicular efficiency. She noticed Nathaniel tapping his good foot rhythmically and smiled to herself.

This had to be killing him.

“You’re quiet,” he said suddenly.

Addie shrugged. “You’re obviously very busy. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

He drummed his fingers on his knee and she tried not to think about where those fingers had been, the magic they had weaved on her body, as he worked himself up to his next lot of dialogue. “About last night—”

And there it was. Right on cue.

“You’ve no need to worry, Nate,” she assured.

His terse, “Nathaniel,” made her smile. Somehow now he would always be Nate to her.

“Last night was a fleeting moment of madness, fueled by a little too much elderberry wine and proximity.” She forced herself to shrug. “Consider it forgotten.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Trust me, last night was not something I’m going to forget in a hurry.”

Well, no. He made a good point. But he was in flight mode, she understood that, and she was happy to give him an out. A few days to calm down before she somehow managed to bump
into him again. “Me neither,” she conceded with as much understatement as possible. “But you know what I mean.”

His blue eyes narrowed in what looked a lot like suspicion to her. “So the universe is in balance again?”

She gave him a Mona Lisa smile. “Something like that,” she agreed.

But taming the tycoon was just beginning.

She glanced out the window and could see occasional glimpses of the London Eye in the stop-start traffic. The sun glinted off the glass capsules and she suddenly wished she was up in one of them enjoying the simple pleasure of being a tourist in her own city instead of in a limousine with a recalcitrant tycoon.

“Did you know,” she mused, “you can see all the way to Windsor Castle on a clear day from the top of the Eye?”

Nathaniel frowned at her. “Wouldn’t know, never been.”

Addie blinked as she turned to face him. “You’ve
never
been for a ride on the Eye?”

He shrugged. “I’ve not been on a red bus tour or gone to the Portobello markets or visited Buckingham Palace either. I don’t have time to play tourist, Addie.”

“Too busy making money?” she inquired sweetly.

His beautiful mouth straightened into a fierce line as he frowned at her. “I will not apologize for being well off. I’ve set goals and I’ve worked hard.”

Addie shook her head—he was in a far worse state of denial than she thought. She looked around the plush car with its uniformed driver and all the mod cons of a mobile office. His
usual
service, as Margaret had put it. “I’ll bet you’ve never even taken the Tube, have you?”

“Of course I have,” he said impatiently.

Addie narrowed her gaze at the ready dismissiveness. “How long’s it been? Since you last went on the Underground?”

“Probably primary school.”

She shook her head. “And you call yourself a Londoner.”

Suddenly, she knew how to help him. The man lived in one of the world’s most vibrant and fascinating cities, and he was blind to it.

He needed to reconnect.

Maybe then he wouldn’t be in so much of a hurry to knock it down.

His phone rang and he picked it up. “It’ll always be here, Addie,” he said as he answered the phone.

Conversation over.

Addie watched him locate some paperwork from the pile on the seat beside him and listened as he prattled off some facts and figures to whoever it was on the other end. She wondered if he understood that whilst London might always be here, he might not?

Didn’t he understand how fragile life was? That in the blink of an eye a heart attack could kill. That in the space of a few hours your life could be on track and then a doctor you’ve never met before gives you news that cuts you off at the knees.

You have leukemia.

If Addie had learned one thing in her twenty-seven years on this earth, it was how precious life was and how no day should be taken for granted. And for Delphine and Eunice and her rose garden—but most especially for Nathaniel—it was time to pay it forward.

She shut her eyes, taking some deep breaths, tuning him out as she conjured up the beauty of
pi
and her brain chanted the order of decimal points that ran on and on ad infinitum. She pictured them stretching in a line that disappeared into a distant mist and a sense of calm descended as each number recited pushed the mist back.

She could do this. She could help Nate. She could keep the universe in balance.

They were a few minutes from the docks when Nathaniel finally hung up the phone, bringing her out of her center. “Sorry.” He grimaced, but Addie didn’t really think he was. She suspected he’d been more than a little pleased to not have to talk to her.

“I’m getting Carl to drop you off home and I’m going to continue on to the office and catch up on some work that’s piled up,” he said looking down at his phone and scrolling with his thumb.

Addie, feeling strong and calm, was determined to play it cool. “Sure.”

He looked at her. “It’s what happens when I have time off, you know. There’s no one else to do it for me.”

Addie thought she detected a slight defensiveness in his tone. He seemed to be waiting for her to object. Was he used to scenes with women when he tried to shake them off? Instead, she smiled at him, noticing his slightly puzzled look. She’d obviously confused him and he didn’t look like he was enjoying being pushed off center.

She knew
exactly
how he felt.

“Maybe there should be?” she suggested.

He gave her another confused look as if he didn’t understand the concept of delegating. “Anyway,” he said his gaze business-like again as he stuck out his hand. “Thank you very much for this weekend. You did get me out of a tight spot and you were a hit with my family, so—thanks.”

Addie looked at his proffered hand and blinked. “Seriously,” she asked, looking at his lips and thinking about much more civilized good-byes. “You want to
shake
?”

She felt his clear blue gaze fan like an ocean breeze across her mouth, stirring heated memories of the night.

“I think it’s wise, given the circumstances.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Even after I massaged ointment into your thigh and then rubbed myself against you like some demented feline?”

He dropped his hand and she was satisfied to see the bob of his throat. “Addie.”

“Even after you went down on me in the wee hours of the night and I came so loudly, I woke up every sleeping alpaca on the farm, plus most of Bill’s cows?”

The smooth line of his jaw tightened. “Addie. We need to keep what happened in perspective.”

“Even though,” she continued, placing her hand on his thigh, “I’d bet my last penny you have a massive erection right now.”

His warm blue gaze met hers and held and she saw his determination to hold steady intensify even as his thigh tensed beneath her palm. “I’m a man. Sue me. Doesn’t mean I don’t want you to get out of this car so we can go back to our corners.”

Addie advanced her hand higher, stilling only when he placed his firmly on top. “Fine,” she murmured huskily, staring into his unwavering eyes. “But don’t expect me to say good-bye by shaking your hand like I met you two minutes ago, Nate.”

Addie wasn’t sure whether he reached for her or she for him but in three seconds flat she was straddling his lap, pushing her tongue into his mouth, grasping the front of his shirt and proving to herself that she’d been right about his arousal.

She needed this. Just one last kiss. One final hurrah to their decadent liaison before they both went back to their corners.

He ripped out her hair band and then his hands were pushing into her hair. She gasped for breath as he tugged gently, exposing her neck to his ravaging lips, teeth, and tongue. He placed both hands on her buttocks and pulled her in close and she tilted her hips to feel the thickness of him. Her hand followed, grasping him through his trousers. She squeezed and his groan was like a mantra in her blood. His lips found hers again and he plundered them, sucking her breath away until she was dizzy.

The car slowed—they didn’t notice. It pulled to a standstill—they didn’t notice that, either. Addie’s door opened—they were oblivious. They weren’t even aware it was discreetly shut again.

Ironically, it was his phone that pierced their bubble like clanging chimes of doom.

They pulled apart, chests heaving as it rang insistently. Nathaniel looked as sucker punched as she felt, and for a moment, neither of them moved or said a word.

But the bloody phone was
oblivious
.

Addie picked it up and thrust it at his chest, conscious of his hands still on her butt, her hips jammed against his.

“That,” she said, “is how you say good-bye to someone you spent all night in bed with.”

And with as much dignity as she could muster, she hauled herself off him and fumbled for the door handle.

…

Nathaniel lasted three days. Three days of telling himself to forget about Addie and their one night and concentrate on his work. Three days of early mornings and late nights, burying himself in meetings and brokering deals and overseas phone calls.

Three days of getting his ducks in a row for the St. Agnes project. Of being picky and demanding and outright cantankerous with his staff.

Three days of insane productivity because every time he stopped, Addie wearing flowers in her hair and nothing but her pulled-aside purple underwear undulated through his gray matter like a belly dancer.

And just one morning of Margaret saying to him, “Sir, you’re being an intolerable arse, stop it!” for him to find himself walking, finally sans limp, into Soul Food.

The young woman chewing gum and filing her fingernails behind the counter informed him that Addie wasn’t in yet and he found himself frowning as he strode through the light crowds to find the
Ida May
. It was nine-thirty in the morning. Shouldn’t she be at work? Her shop was empty and her employee more than a little casual.

Did she not care about her business?

Did she not realize she could probably own an
apartment
at the docks if she got serious about it?

But none of that mattered as he stepped on to the colorful boat. He barely noticed the red and pink geraniums in pots decorating the top, or that the hull was painted a rich royal blue with golden yellow trim.

He was one hundred percent focused on seeing Addie again. The doors were closed and he knocked on them. When she didn’t answer after five seconds, he knocked again.

Margaret was right. This had to stop. And he hated that his body seemed to know Addie was the answer but right now, he just had to make it stop.

And if that meant doing what it took to get her out of his system, then so be it.

He was about to knock for the third time when the doors opened and Addie stood before him in some sort of workout clothes, blinking uncertainly.

“Nate?”

He didn’t even bother to correct her. His pulse leapt at the sight of her and damn it all if his name hadn’t ever sounded so good. He’d heard her say it in his dreams the last few nights and he wanted to hear her say it for real, again and again as he rocked into her.

“What do you want?”

Nathaniel pushed his hands on his hips as he considered several responses, but the pound of his pulse and the throb in his groin overruled his basic gentlemanly decorum.