What's in a Name? (35 page)

Kelli approached, several manila file
folders in her hand.

“
These were mixed in
with mine.” Her gaze was on his chest, not his eyes. Her fingers
never touched his when she handed him the folders. In fact, she
nearly dropped them in her obvious haste to release
them.

He gripped the papers, willing her to
look at him. “Thanks. I need a shower.”
Join me?

“
I was going to do a
load of laundry. If you leave your stuff, I’ll take care of it.”
She paused, then dropped her gaze to the floor. “Are you staying
here? The sheets … If you are, then … “

God, he didn’t want to think of her in
bed with him, giving the sheets a good reason to need washing.
“Don’t sweat it. I’ll do it. What time’s your flight?”
Look at
me, damn it. Or did you notice the fucking hard-on you gave
me?

“
Nine-forty-five.”

“
I need to get back to
Chicago tomorrow, too. What flight are you on? Maybe we can … I
mean, if you’re flying out of Chicago … If there’s another
seat.”

God, he was stammering like a teenager.
Damned if he’d beg. “I’ll take my clothes to the washer.”

* * * * *

Kelli lifted her eyes, admiring the
view as Blake strode away. The man did have some great assets. An
ache filled her chest as she thought of how she would miss so much
more than his physicality. Although her heart longed for him, her
brain said it would never work. Clean breaks were best.

A scrap of paper fell from one of his
files and she almost called after him. Instead, she waited until he
was out of sight, then went and picked it up. A business card. She
ran her fingers over the embossed surface as she walked back to the
office. Vance Griffith, Esq. of Little, Franklin, & Moser.
Vance Griffith. The man who wanted Blake to be on Hollingsworth’s
campaign team. She dropped the card on the desk, making a mental
note to tell Blake where she’d left it.

Swiveling the desk chair, she let her
gaze shift between computer monitor and the stacks of printouts on
the desk. If only there were two of her. Should she recruit Blake?
She’d lean over his shoulder, inhaling his scent as she showed him
how to run some basic searches. Her cheek would brush against
his—

Stop. He’s a corporate negotiator who
steals jobs from people. He’s only interested in the bottom line.
His bank account. She dragged those images to the front replacing
the ones of a gentle caring Blake. There had to be another
solution.

When the light bulb over her head
flashed, she pushed aside the flicker of guilt and sent Justin
Stockbridge an email asking him to run some searches.

Nothing but legitimate search engines
or I’m going straight to your dad.

She still felt like she was giving a
shot of whisky to an alcoholic, but she convinced herself it was
fine—she hadn’t given him any reasons why he was doing the
research, so he wouldn’t know what to dig for. It showed him she
trusted him, right?

And for the umpteenth time, she checked
her cell phone to see if Jack had called. He’d had nothing to tell
her when she’d given him her travel plans two hours ago. Cops had
come and gone and they’d be in touch.

What had the cops found and what were
they going to do about it? Would Jack tell them about Blake’s
little identity switch? His real job? Or would he play it as the
unsuspecting CEO of a reputable company, trusting information from
another equally reliable source?

What was the point? Until her brain
could let go of the Blake Windsor invasion that had blockaded all
other thought pathways, she wasn’t good for anything. And it wasn’t
only her brain Blake was setting on fire. She had one more night.
Forgetting about doing laundry, not bothering to turn off the
computers, she hurried down the hall, toward the sound of running
water, shedding her clothes along the way.

The bathroom door was half open. She
hesitated at the doorway. Could she do this and still walk away in
the morning? Two consenting adults, no strings? Oh, there would be
strings, all right—but they were already knotted so tight only a
sword could sever them.

She watched his shadowy form through
the translucent shower curtain. His hands moved from one shoulder
to the other, under his arms, then began traveling down his torso.
Her own nipples tightened as she watched Blake wash his chest.

His hands continued downward, moving in
circles. When they reached his groin, she bit back a gasp at the
power of her own response. She took two steps into the room, poised
at the back of the tub when she realized his hands were still
moving, but no longer downward. One arm reached up to the tile,
supporting his body. She heard his breathing over the sound of the
shower.

Carefully, she drew the curtain aside
just enough to admit her to the tub. She stepped inside and slid
her hand under his, moving with him. “Want some help with
that?”

He groaned. “Tell me I’m not dreaming.”
He turned around and pressed their bodies together. “Or if I am,
please don’t let me wake up.”

“
Maybe it should be a
dream—because it’ll be over in the morning. I meant what I said. I
have to leave. Are you okay with that?”

He didn’t answer, simply pressed his
lips against hers and she opened her mouth to a kiss that reached
the depths of her soul. In a frenzy, he suckled her breasts, slid a
finger inside her, stroking her, driving her up, up, until she
clung to the wire-thin boundary between control and release, unable
to breathe. He cupped her buttocks and she hooked a leg around his
waist, her arms around his neck. They shifted so she was braced
against the wall, the chill of the tiles turning hot against her
back in seconds. He entered her in a single thrust, then froze. He
tried to withdraw, but she wrapped her other leg around him and
held him fast.

His words came out in pants.
“Kelli—stop. I don’t have anything. And if you move, it’s going to
be all over.”

“
You’re not HIV
positive are you?”

“
No, but what
about—?”

“
I’m safe and I need
you. Now.” She squirmed so he rubbed against that part of her that
demanded release, pleasure rising to the brink of
ecstasy.

* * * * *

Blake tried to fight back to a point of
control, but it was a losing battle. He was now inside a woman,
unprotected, for the first time in his life and oh, God, did it
feel good.

Once Kelli’s assurances had registered,
he let go of any reservations and slanted his lips against hers,
plundering with his tongue. He rubbed his hand, slick with soap,
against her breasts and when she moaned with pleasure and began
rocking her hips, he succumbed. Nothing could stop the pressure
building within.

He pulled back slightly, then thrust
and her tight heat clamped around him. The shower sounds escalated
to Niagara Falls. He slammed into her and exploded, his ears
ringing with their mingled cries.

They stood there, joined, for several
long moments, neither speaking. When he could take a normal breath,
he eased her off him, picked up the soap and caressed her as he
washed her silken skin, her soft curves, her sculpted calves. She
stood under the spray, eyes closed, a contented smile on her lips,
letting him lather and rinse her.

He reached behind her to turn off the
water, which had turned lukewarm. “I hope nobody had a stopwatch on
that one,” he whispered. “And please, no lies. I’m happy to owe you
one. Or ten. You already know how much I wanted you. And without a
condom, it was—”

“
Shut up,” she said
and pulled his face to hers. “Or do I have to do it for you?” She
nibbled on his lower lip, then put her hands behind his head and
kissed him with such passion he felt himself responding
again.

Wrapped in towels, they made their way
to the bed. He collapsed onto the sheets and pulled Kelli down
alongside him. “I don’t know what to say,” he began.

“
Then don’t say
anything.”

She pulled the towel away from herself
and he soaked in her body. She was fit, but definitely soft where a
woman should be soft. He leaned over and nuzzled her breast,
feeling the nipple stiffen under his tongue.

Her breath was warm on his ear. “I … I
saw you … before I got into the tub.”

He pulled away and stared at the
ceiling. “I was thinking of you.”

“
I hoped so. It was …
quite a turn-on.” She took his hand and placed it over her breast.
“And for the record, you don’t owe me anything. She tickled his
ribs. “I guess it’s a power trip—that I can do that to
you.”

“
Sweetheart, you have
no idea how powerful you are.” He took her hand and showed
her.

Afterward, when he could string two
words together, he caressed her. “Stay with me a while.”

She murmured something unintelligible
and curled into him.

Blake ignored his rising hunger as he
lay in bed. He savored the warmth of Kelli’s body entwined with
his. Throughout the afternoon, Kelli had dozed, but he’d been
afraid if he slept she wouldn’t be there when he awoke. There
wasn’t a single spot on her body he hadn’t studied. Fingers, lips,
tongue—he wanted to memorize her every atom. He shifted and she
rolled away, coming to rest on her back alongside him. He let his
gaze linger once more on her face, bathed in the final remnants of
daylight, relaxed in sleep.

He thought he could count on the
fingers of one hand the times he’d seen her relaxed. His eyes
burned as he tried to file away the memories. During their
lovemaking, much as he wanted to remember every sensation, passion
made conscious thought impossible.

Her hunger had taken him places he had
never imagined. She’d been insatiable, as if she, too, needed to
fill her senses with him. With them. Because it hadn’t been two
entities in this bed. There had been no boundaries—no place where
Kelli stopped and Blake started.

Her eyes opened and she smiled. Her
forefinger traced the stubble along his jaw, then stopped at his
mouth. “Hi.”

His throat constricted and he couldn’t
speak. Besides, what was there to say? He kissed that finger,
suckled it, explored it with his tongue.

She slid her finger from his mouth to
his chest, let it toy with a nipple. “I think I owe you now.”

For a fleeting moment, he wished he
could hold her to that—make her stay. Some kind of orgasmic balance
sheet. “I don’t keep score.” But he’d brought her to peak at least
three times after the shower. And he’d lost count after that.

She’d said her period was due any day,
that she was safe. He wondered if he cared, what it would be like
to have his child with her. Would he ever be able to go back to the
kind of relationship-free sex he was used to? Did he even want to?
And then her fingers moved lower and he was beyond thought
again.

Kelli caught the readout on the bedside
clock when she opened her eyes. Seven p.m. Blake was staring at
her, like he’d been every time she’d awakened. She couldn’t
remember ever being this needy. Knowing this was her last time with
Blake, she’d tried to saturate her system with him—his touch, his
scent, his taste—the way his long hair felt like butterflies when
he moved his kisses down her body. The way his eyes glazed right
before he came. The sounds he murmured into her ear. As if she
could store the way she felt when she was with him in some internal
reservoir, to call on in times of drought. She kissed his neck,
right below his ear.

He propped himself up on an elbow.
“Sweetheart, I’m absolutely, totally, one hundred and ten percent
drained. I’m not sure I’ll ever get hard again.”

“
I’d be happy to
dispute that with you, but not now. I’m kind of depleted myself.”
She trailed her fingers along his jaw. “I’ve got beard burn in
places I didn’t know I had places.”

“
Sorry.”

She lowered her gaze from his eyes,
bracing herself for the way he’d respond to her next statement. “I
should check my email. I had a hunch and put Justin Stockbridge on
it.”

The little muscle in his jaw clenched
and she knew he was trying not to show his displeasure. Hell, he
was probably raging mad. She sat on the edge of the bed so she
didn’t have to look at him anymore.

Blake flung the covers away, stormed
around the bed and stood over her, his hands quivering on her
shoulders. “Look at me.”

There was no anger in his tone. Only
hurt. When she finally met his gaze, she saw the pain and something
twisted in her chest.

His lips pinched into a flat line and
he took several deep breaths before he spoke. “You said this would
be over in the morning. Even if I think you’re wrong, that we have
more between us than great sex, if you say you have to leave, I’ll
accept it. But I want every minute between now and you getting on
that damn plane.” His voice shook and she saw him gathering
control. “I want to know there’s nothing in that computer that
can’t wait until morning. I want to go to sleep beside you and know
you’ll be there whenever I wake up.”

He was right. Even if Justin’s email
provided the key to her puzzle there would be nothing she could do
with the information tonight.

She touched his cheek. “I’ll bet you’re
starved. I can reheat the leftover chicken while you shave.”

Kelli awoke before dawn, cradled in
Blake’s arms. They’d barely exchanged a dozen words after last
night’s dinner, escaping to a fantasy world where only the two of
them existed and neither wanted to speak and break the spell.
They’d made love once more, then spent the night being close. She
rolled away and lay on her back.