The CEO Buys in (Wager of Hearts #1) (18 page)

“It’s one of my favorites.” He liked being the one who introduced her to a new taste.

“Don’t tell me what it costs. I want to enjoy it without guilt.”

He put down his glass. “Chloe, what makes you worry about money so much?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so focused on price. It’s a bad habit.” She stared down into the bubbles in her glass.

“Maybe I can help.”

That made her look up. “No.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Will you at least answer my question?”

He could see the debate going on behind her eyes. Finally, she shrugged before taking a gulp of champagne. “My grandmother lives with me. I don’t want her to go into a nursing home, so I’m saving money for the day when I need to hire help for her.”

“I see.” That kind of care was expensive, and she was a temp. No wonder she negotiated for a raise whenever possible. “You continue to impress me.”

“It would be more impressive if I didn’t kill every company I worked for as a permanent employee.”

“Kill?” He let her deflect his praise with the new topic. “Should I be worried about the future of Trainor Electronics?”

“You may be safe. The Russell jinx seems to affect only start-ups. So far Flexitemps is still in business, although I warned Judith when she took me on.”

“Start-ups are notorious for failing, so I don’t think you’re the sole reason they’ve closed down. Why would you work for those if you’re concerned about saving money?”

She hesitated, rearranging the array of forks in front of her as she spoke. “I don’t have any patience with corporate politics. I like to be rewarded for getting my job done well rather than for schmoozing the boss.” She blushed and looked him in the eye, saying, “This is
not
schmoozing.”

He laughed at her directness. “We are well beyond schmoozing,” he agreed before leaning forward. Her revelations about her work background proved that his original instincts were correct. “I said you were a ringer. Tell me where you’ve worked.”

At that moment the servers arrived, and he caught a look of relief on her face. He quelled the desire to curse and send the waitstaff away so he could unravel more about his intriguing companion.

However, he’d ordered a variety of appetizers before the jet left New Jersey because he wanted Chloe to taste the entire array of deliciously fresh Maine seafood the Weather Vane Inn offered. He wanted to see the moment the flavor burst on her tongue and she focused on it. What he really wanted was to have her lying beside him naked while he fed it all to her with his fingers. A man could use his imagination.

“We’ll never be able to eat all this,” she said, her eyes wide as the waiter placed a large, artfully arranged platter in the center of the table.

“Speak for yourself. I worked up a considerable appetite on my way here.”

She slanted him a warning glance, but the corners of her mouth twitched.

The waiter spoke, gesturing toward each item as he named it. “As you requested, Mr. Trainor, we have included only Maine seafood here. Steamed mussels, scallops, soft-shell clams, mahogany clams, rock crab, and a selection of Damariscotta oysters—including those from Glidden Point, Pemaquid, and Cape Blue.” Nathan got another pointed glance from Chloe at the mention of oysters.

“We are especially fortunate to have two Belons, the rarest oysters in the world, for your tasting pleasure,” the waiter continued. He backed away with a hint of a bow. “Enjoy our sampling.”

“The rarest oysters in the world, eh?” Chloe said, poking at one with the miniature fork the waiter had set down beside her plate. “Does that give them extra powers?” She arched an eyebrow at him.

“They have a powerful flavor, so that might equate to extra potency.” He picked up a Belon in its shell and held it out to her.

She started to take it from him with her hand but he pulled it back. “With your mouth,” he said, wondering if she would do it.

She hesitated only a second and then leaned forward, opening her lips to take in the edge of the shell before she sucked the oyster out of its natural cup and into her mouth like a pro. The whole time she kept her gaze locked on his in deliberate provocation. The sight of her lips pursed around the rough shell sent a fast burn through his body, tightening his cock to rock hardness.

After a couple of chews, she grimaced and swallowed in a labored gulp. “Ugh! It tastes like metal.” She grabbed her water goblet to take a swig before she picked up the other Belon oyster and held it out with a wicked smile. “Your turn.”

The nasty flavor of the oyster lingered on Chloe’s tongue as she dared Nathan to eat the other one. He didn’t hesitate for a second before angling his body in to suck it off the shell. His lips touched her fingers, so she felt the heat and texture of his mouth before he leaned back. Now she understood the flare of intensity she’d seen in his eyes when she took the oyster from him. It was a strangely intimate act to feed someone from your hand.

He chewed the mollusk slowly, his eyes always on her. She watched the muscles in his throat work as he swallowed. “It does have a coppery taste,” he said. “Like eating a computer chip.”

“Just what I want for an appetizer,” Chloe said.

His gaze was still on her as he said, “Now I understand the aphrodisiac properties of oysters. It’s all about how you eat them and with whom.” His voice was husky and low, vibrating through her so she shifted in her chair.

“The good news is that I’m not likely to acquire a taste for rare oysters,” Chloe said, trying to defuse the suddenly charged atmosphere.

“Let’s wash the taste away with a milder flavor,” Nathan said, reaching for another shellfish. Once again he held it out to her.

She had been daring enough to play his game once, but she began to feel self-conscious. “Do you plan to feed me the entire dinner?”

A half smile curled his lips. “I’m considering getting the rest to go.”

Would he really do that? Did she want him to? A vision of Nathan feeding her chunks of lobster from his fingers while they were lying in bed naked danced through her mind.

She slurped the oyster off the shell, barely tasting it before she swallowed. “Does lobster taste different when it’s a mile high?”

Chloe lay in bed, luxuriating in the memories of the night before. Grandmillie went to church every Sunday with the devoutly Catholic family who lived on the next block, so this was Chloe’s private time each week. She lay on her back, staring at the ceiling as she remembered the briny taste of the oysters and the crisp, dry bubbles of that amazing champagne.

But the best memories were of Nathan’s hands and mouth and body. Sex on the way to Maine had been wild and explosive. On the way home, they’d taken their time. It turned out the sofa on the company jet folded out into a bed. Nathan claimed he only used it to catch up on sleep while he traveled, but she took that with a grain of salt. However, she refused to worry about the women who had come before her or the women who would come after her.

They had spread the containers of food out on the table beside the sofa bed and started to feed each other, but their appetites had quickly veered in a different direction. She moved restlessly on the sheets as particular moments and sensations floated up from her memory. They’d gotten all their clothes off, and she’d explored the feel of his skin over various muscles, of which he had an impressive supply for a workaholic CEO. She discovered that he swam in a lap pool daily when he wasn’t recuperating from the flu, which gave his back a beautiful ripple when he moved and drew lines of power down his thighs and calves. She wanted to see him wet and glistening as he rose out of the water.

The doorbell ruined her daydream. “Shoot!” she said, bolting out of bed and grabbing her bathrobe.

Pulling the belt tight around her waist, she peered through the sheer curtain that covered the sidelights by her front door. Oskar stood on the porch, holding a vase of tall blue flowers in one hand and a carrying case in the other.

Chloe could feel the smile curving her lips as she pulled open the door. “Morning, Oskar,” she practically sang. “Come on in.”

The solemn Oskar stepped through the door and cracked a tiny smile. “Mr. Trainor sends his regards.”

“Thank you. Why don’t you put the flowers there?” She pointed to the narrow hall table. It could barely accommodate the large arrangement.

Once he’d placed the flowers, Oskar reached inside his pocket and pulled out an envelope with her name on it. The stationery was the same as the card that had accompanied the chocolates yesterday. He handed it to her before lifting the case in his hand. “This is heavy, so it’s best if I put it on a bigger table.”

As Chloe led him into the dining area, she brushed her fingers over the envelope, knowing Nathan had touched it not long ago. Oskar put the case on the table and gave her a little bow before he strode to the front door. She closed it behind him and ripped open the envelope.

Darling Chloe,

The lupines are the most famous wildflower in Maine. However, I did not raid a roadside patch for these, so your conscience can rest easy.

The rest traveled home with us on the jet. I did my best to keep your attention focused inside the limousine so you didn’t notice the extra containers being loaded in the trunk.

Chloe snorted. They’d been entwined with each other almost from the moment the driver had closed the door. Nathan had brought her to orgasm on the leather seat beside him with his long, clever fingers under her skirt since she refused to bare herself even with the privacy screen raised. The memory sent arousal zinging through her.

I believe the medical community has underestimated the aphrodisiacal powers of oysters. I may convert my lap pool to an oyster bed.

While most people dread Monday morning, I look forward to it with great anticipation. Please give your grandmother my warm regards.

Nathan

Chloe felt like a character in a sappy Hallmark movie, but she couldn’t help herself. She cradled the note against her cheek, trying to feel Nathan’s presence in it. After rereading his line about Monday morning, she walked to the dining room table to see what was in the elegant cardboard case. She flipped open the top flap. Nestled in padded compartments were two bottles of the same Dom Pérignon they’d had with dinner the night before, along with three champagne flutes, also like the ones they’d used at the Weather Vane Inn. Another note was enclosed.

Don’t chill the Dom until the day before you plan to drink it. The extra flute is for your grandmother. I look forward to meeting her.

N.

The thought of Grandmillie and Nathan face-to-face made her sit down hard in a dining room chair. She didn’t want to introduce Nathan to her grandmother, like a single mother who didn’t let her boyfriend meet her child until she thought it might be serious. As realistic as Grandmillie usually was, she had a blind spot about Chloe. She would see no reason why a billionaire entrepreneur shouldn’t fall madly in love with her granddaughter. Chloe didn’t want Grandmillie to be disappointed when Nathan went on to a woman more suited to his status.

So she would just keep her worlds separate. That shouldn’t be too hard for the short period of time Nathan’s interest would last.

Chloe picked up one of the flutes and flicked her fingernail against it, making the fine crystal emit a pure, high note. “Well, we can use the third flute when we break the second one.”

She put the flute back in the box and stowed the whole case away in the kitchen. Then she retrieved the lupines from their precarious perch and pushed aside a pile of magazines on the coffee table to set them there. The magazines cascaded onto the floor.

Kneeling to pick them up, Chloe noticed that one wouldn’t stack neatly because a folder of some sort was wedged inside it. She pulled it out and sat back on her heels when she saw the embossed white writing: Crestmont Village, the assisted-living facility.

“How on earth did that get in here?” She flipped it open and dropped the magazines back on the floor. A letter dated only ten days ago was tucked into the folder.

Dear Mrs. Russell,

Thank you for your inquiry about our elder
-
care facility. We have enclosed the information you requested about availability of . . .

Chloe stopped reading. Why would Grandmillie request information from Crestmont Village? Other than their discussion about Chloe going on the date last night, everything had been fine. In fact, Grandmillie had been indignant about having Cavill’s emergency contact numbers foisted on her when Chloe spent the night away.

Chloe riffled through the sheets of paper in the folder. There was a multipage application form with its blanks still empty. She breathed a sigh of relief. If her grandmother were serious, she would have filled the form out and sent it in; Grandmillie didn’t mess around once her mind was made up to do something.

Chloe gathered up the magazines again, leaving the folder on top of them this time. She intended to find out what her grandmother was plotting.

In the meantime, she had a phone call to make.

Nathan did a kick turn and knifed through the water again. He was doing three more laps if it killed him.

Of course, Ben claimed it would.

But he needed to work off the sexual haze that had enveloped him ever since the first time he touched Chloe. He’d been blaming his lack of focus on the flu, but it was caused by something more difficult to cure.

He couldn’t even swim without imagining how he would make love to her in the lap pool. He pictured her breasts glistening with drops of water that he would lick off her peaked nipples. She would wrap her fingers around his cock and stroke him hard under the surface. He would lay her back to float on the water before he spread her thighs and held her open while he buried himself inside her.

He nearly swallowed a mouthful of water as a groan of arousal tore itself from his throat. His erection was not helping his aquadynamics either.

Hitting the opposite wall of the pool, he kick-turned again and forced himself to concentrate on the Prometheus project, figuring that would be the most effective buzzkill. However, it just reminded him of Chloe’s advice to pitch in on the project himself.

How the hell had she gotten so embedded in every aspect of his life so fast?

The question didn’t unsettle him as much as he expected it to. If Chloe was taking up all his attention, it wasn’t because she demanded it. He discovered that giving his attention freely was surprisingly pleasurable.

Sending the gifts to her this morning had been pure fun as he’d tried to decide what her reaction would be when she saw Oskar at the door holding the lupines. When she opened the box of Dom, would she frown in disapproval at the cost or enjoy the treat?

The line about meeting her grandmother had come from his pen without thought, yet he had meant it. He was curious about the woman Chloe was so devoted to.

He finished the final lap and hoisted himself out of the pool with shaking arms, collapsing onto his back on the tile floor and heaving in great gulps of oxygen. Thank God Ben wasn’t here to see him gasping like a dying fish.

As his breathing settled into a more normal rhythm, he went back to solving his newest problem. He grudgingly admired Chloe’s refusal to take payment for her trip to the wedding with him, but he knew she needed the money. He just couldn’t figure out a way to offer it that she would accept.

He’d gotten around Ben’s reluctance to accept Nathan’s donations for his free medical clinic by setting up a foundation using a front man. Ben had no idea the money flowed from Nathan. However, that wouldn’t work for Chloe, since she didn’t have 501(c)(3) status. He grimaced. Chloe would be horrified to know he’d considered her in the same thought as a charity.

His cell phone rang and he vaulted to his feet to swipe it off the marble-topped table by the pool. Dropping into a nearby chair, he checked the caller ID. The laps had just been a way to kill time until this call came through.

He answered with the word he’d been waiting to say all morning. “Chloe.”

“Nathan.” Her tone held a smile and a touch of mockery. “You knew I’d call.”

“Your manners are always impeccable.”

She laughed. “Well, that’s not true, but when someone sends me a wonderful gift, I like to say thank you.”

“The gift was our time together last night. What I sent this morning was my thank-you.”

“Very smooth.” Her voice softened. “The lupines are lovely, and you know I’ll enjoy the champagne in those elegant flutes. Every time I use them, I’ll remember where they came from.”

There was a strange wistfulness in her tone that bothered him. “We’ll use them together.”

“Of course.” Her words lacked conviction.

“Chloe, is something wrong?”

“How could anything be wrong when I’m sitting in front of a vase of gorgeous flowers with two bottles of Dom Pérignon stashed in my cupboard? Not in the refrigerator. And there’s still plenty of chocolate left.” She paused. When she spoke again, her voice was low and uncertain. “There is one thing missing.”

He tensed.
What omission was so glaring that she would mention it?
“Tell me.”

“It would be better if you were here too.”

A sudden restlessness brought him out of the chair to pace over the tiles. “I was thinking the same thing. In fact, I was picturing you swimming with me here in my lap pool. Naked.” Her little intake of breath made his groin tighten.

“Should you be swimming so soon after the flu?” she asked, her voice quivering the tiniest bit.

“I exerted myself far more last night.”

“Good point. But maybe that means you should rest today.”

“There’s no rest for the wicked, and I’ve been thinking nothing but wicked thoughts about you since last night. Would you like to hear some of them?”

She choked, whether on a laugh or a gasp, he couldn’t tell. “No phone sex. Grandmillie will be home from church any minute now.”

“How would she know what I’m saying?”

“I’m pretty sure it would show on my face.”

“You do have an expression of wanton bliss when I touch you in certain places.” Teasing Chloe was better than phone sex. He was sure she was blushing now.

“
Wanton bliss
?
” she huffed. “You have an expression of drooling lust when I touch you in certain places.”

He chuckled. “I don’t drool.”

“You do. And you snore too.”

“We haven’t actually slept together, so how would you know?”

“I slept beside you the whole night when you were sick.”

“Not a fair test. Sleep with me again, and I’ll prove I only snore when under the influence of germs.”

She sighed. “That would be nice. Oh, the Lombardis’ car just pulled up in front of the house. I’ve got to go. Thank you again, Nathan. You’re so . . . everything is just . . . so amazing. ’Bye.”

She hung up before he could answer her. He suspected it was because she didn’t want him to hear the tears in her voice, but he had.

He dropped his phone on the table and grabbed his towel, rubbing it hard over his nearly dry hair and chest.

What the hell had he done to make her cry?