Wilde for Him (25 page)

He chuckled at that and ran his thumb over her rigid nipple, making her forget everything but him and the exquisite way he made her feel. "The water is starting to get cool. What do you say we take this party into the bedroom?"

"Mmmm," she purred deep in her throat as she took a hold of his shaft and gave him a slow, firm stroke that made him growl like a tempted tiger. "That all depends on what you have in mind."

"How about making you scream with pleasure?" he suggested, looking completely, deliciously depraved.

Knowing he was a man of his word, Christine wasn't about to turn down his wicked offer. "Oh, yeah, that definitely works for me."

Chapter Thirteen

THE shrill sound of the phone ringing woke Ben immediately. His first instinct was to reach for the receiver to answer the call, until he realized that he was in Christine's bed and she needed to pick up the phone. A quick glance at the digital clock on her nightstand told him it was almost twenty after eleven in the evening, and calls that came that late at night usually tended to be emergencies of some sort.

Another ring, and Christine stirred beside him and sat up, momentarily disoriented from being in such a deep sleep. She pushed her disheveled hair out of her face, reached for the receiver, and answered the call with a husky, drowsy, "Hello?"

She was quiet for a moment, then replied, "Yes, this is she," and grew silent once again as whoever was on the other end of the line continued to talk.

Concerned and curious, Ben came up on his arm and watched as Christine's expression gradually changed from sleepy to awake as she listened to the one-way conversation and answered with "yes" and "that's correct" and other short sentences that didn't give Ben any clue as to what was going on. The only thing he knew for certain was that the person she was speaking to wasn't family, which alleviated some of his worry.

Finally, she hung up the phone, switched on the bedside light, and turned toward him with a frown creasing her brows and a stunned look on her face. "Wow," she said with a shake of her head.

As far as explanations went, it didn't give him much to go on. "Is everything okay?" he prompted.

She shivered, and realizing that the upper half of her body was naked, she pulled the covers up to her chest. "You're not going to believe this. That was the Chicago P.D. and they have Jason in custody."

"Really?" he asked, equally surprised, then wondered if Christine had been Jason's "one call" that he'd most likely been granted. "Why did they call you?"

"A few hours ago one of the girls that I'm friendly with at the coffee shop across from The Big Event witnessed someone spray painting profanities on the front windows of the business and called the cops," she told him. "They showed up, caught him in the act, and arrested him for being drunk and disorderly, as well as for vandalism. When they got him back to the station and booked him, they saw that I had a restraining order against Jason, and cross-referenced that to me also being the owner of The Big Event."

The guy was beginning to be a real pain in the ass, Ben thought, and wondered if Jason's actions were in any way related to the snakes that had been sent the day before, or the blackmail attempts against Nathan Delacroix. It all tied together and made sense, with Christine's ex-fiancé having the strongest motivation for terrorizing her, but so far there was no concrete evidence that Jason was responsible for anything that had happened so far.

He released a frustrated sigh. "So, that was a courtesy call, so to speak."

She nodded. "Yes, which I appreciate. At least I know what to expect when I get to the office in the morning. I'll have to get someone out right away to take care of the spray paint on the windows."

"I'll take care of that for you," he said, alleviating that burden. It was just a matter of using a razor and some acetone to remove the offensive words, and that would give him something to do tomorrow. "Did they say what would happen with Jason?"

"The officer said he'll most likely be arraigned in the morning and released on bail if he can get it posted." She sighed heavily. "I just wish he'd leave me alone and get on with his life."

That was easier said than done, Ben suspected. "He's obviously still bitter about a lot of things and blames you for his downfall. The guy needs help with his anger and drinking problems."

"I can't argue with you there." She flopped back on her pillow and stared at the ceiling. "Tomorrow is certainly going to be a fun-filled day," she said, an edge of sarcasm to her voice. "If this vandalism isn't enough to deal with, I have a lunch date with my mother."

And she didn't sound happy about it, either. Neither was he, considering he'd be subjected to Audrey's imperious attitude, as well. "I didn't know you were meeting your mother for lunch."

Christine rolled her head on the pillow so she could look at him. "She called me today at the office, right before the snake incident, and she said we needed to 'do lunch,' which translates into she needs to talk to me about something."

"She couldn't do it over the phone?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, she could, but she likes the whole 'see and be seen' aspect of lunch in a nice, expensive restaurant."

"Okay, then we'll go and 'see and be seen,'" he said, his teasing comment coaxing a smile out of her.

Lifting a hand, she cupped his cheek in her palm, her thumb scratching over the light stubble on his jaw. "Ahhh, you're such a trouper."

"You forget, as your bodyguard, I don't have much of a choice."

She laughed. "Regardless, I appreciate the buffer. Having you there will hopefully make the lunch, and the conversation, more pleasant."

Ben wasn't sure about that, but kept the comment to himself as she switched off the light.

He lay back down, and she automatically snuggled up against his side, her cheek resting on his chest and one arm slung across his stomach. It had been forever since he'd actually slept with a woman all night long, let alone cuddled with one. But after living a solitary life for so long, he couldn't deny that he liked the intimacy of holding Christine close throughout the night, and waking up to her in the morning.

Unfortunately, he knew better than to get used to the feeling. By this same time next week, he'd be back in his own bed in his stark apartment. Alone once again.

AT noon the next day, Ben and Christine walked into The Capital Grille and were led toward a private area of the restaurant where Audrey Delacroix was already seated and had already consumed half a glass of wine. Instead of wearing his normal jeans and shirt, today Ben had opted for a pair of nice brown trousers and a collared shirt. Considering that most everyone was decked out in business attire, he was glad that he'd dressed up for the occasion.

The host stopped at Audrey's table, and Ben waited while Christine greeted her mother and bent down to give her a kiss on the cheek before saying hello himself.

"Good afternoon. Mrs. Delacroix," he said politely.

She didn't even glance his way. "Hello." Her tone was rigid and forced, as she'd replied only because etiquette demanded she do so.

The host pulled out a chair for Christine, and once she was seated, Ben moved to sit down beside her.

"You'll be sitting with Dominic over in the other room." She waved a dismissive hand in that direction, still not meeting his gaze, making him feel once again like the lowly hired help.

Christine leaned forward in her seat and shot Audrey a mortified look. "Mother!"

"It's okay." Ben settled a hand on Christine's shoulder to reassure her. "As long as I can see you at all times, I don't have a problem with that."

Christine glanced up at him apologetically, and he let her know with an easygoing smile that she had absolutely nothing to be sorry for. It wasn't her fault that her mother felt compelled to be so rude to him, or anyone else that didn't meet her prominent criteria.

So much for providing a buffer for Christine, Ben thought as he followed the host to a table in the adjoining room, where he said hello and shook hands with Audrey's security agent, Dominic, before sitting down. The two of them were seated in a way that they could see and watch Audrey and Christine, but were far enough away not to be associated with them while they ate lunch.

Ben went ahead and ordered the grilled swordfish with lemon herb butter, along with a soda, and while their entrees were being prepared he conversed with Dominic, who Ben knew from working as a part-time bodyguard for Nathan. The other man used to be an undercover agent before going into the security business, so between the two of them they had plenty to talk about to keep them occupied during lunch.

Over the next hour, while Ben enjoyed his tender, flavorful swordfish and kept up a steady stream of conversation with Dominic, he also watched Christine and Audrey interact and came to the conclusion that the other woman was as cold as ice. After learning from Christine just how glacial Audrey actually was, physically and emotionally, he couldn't help but feel sorry for her being so caustic all the time—and wanting everyone else around her to be just as miserable.

He also found it interesting that Audrey never smiled at Christine, and she never displayed any warmth or outward affection for her only child. She sat in her chair with her back straight and her hands folded in her lap, immaculately dressed in her long-sleeved silk top and not a blond hair out of place as she finished off four full glasses of wine.

They could have been two strangers having a meal together, if not for the myriad emotions he witnessed passing over Christine's features that told him their conversation was very personal. He was seated too far away to hear what they were discussing, but whatever was on Audrey's mind caused a look of disdain to pinch her features, and made Christine increasingly upset—to the point that she cut the lunch short and didn't even finish her salad. Even more telling was the fact that Christine pushed back her chair and left her furious-looking mother sitting at the table by herself as she headed straight for him in the other room.

She stopped at his table and managed a sweet and genuine hello to Dominic before turning to Ben. She glanced from his empty plate to his face. "I'm glad to see you at least enjoyed your meal," she said pointedly, making it clear that her lunch hadn't settled as well as his had. "I'm ready to go."

Oh, boy. Christine looked like a woman scorned, and Ben decided it wasn't a pretty sight.

Since the meal was expensed to the Delacroix account and he didn't have to wait for a check, Ben scooted back his chair and escorted Christine out of the restaurant. The valet brought her Lexus around to the carport, and after opening the passenger side door for her, he slid behind the wheel and directed the vehicle back to The Big Event.

He spent the first half of the drive watching Christine fume and stew as she stared out the side window, waiting patiently for her to either tell him what was wrong, or explode from the tension building within her.

When she did neither, he decided to see what he could wheedle out of her. "What happened back there at the restaurant with your mother?"

"Nothing," she replied succinctly.

He wanted to laugh, but opted for another form of humor instead. "The food was that bad, huh? Or was it the service? That waiter did seem a little slow getting your salad to the table."

She shot him a bewildered look. "What are you talking about?"

After making a left-hand turn on the street where her business was located, he shrugged casually. "Something has you a little irked. I figured if it wasn't something your mother said or did, it had to be something related to your lunch."

She sighed, releasing some of the stiffness from her shoulders, as well as softening the taut line of her lips. "The lunch was fine. My mother, however, was in rare form today."

He parked the car in Christine's designated spot behind the business, cut the engine, but didn't make any move to get out of the vehicle. Instead, he turned toward her and rested his arm along the back of her seat.

"Care to talk about it?" he asked gently. Honestly, he was damn curious what had gone on between the two women to make a normally carefree and cheerful Christine so antagonized.

She released a long "arrgghhh!" of frustration that seemed to deflate most of her anger, then met his gaze, her expression taking on that impish quality he adored. "Sorry, I just had to let that out."

He grinned. "I completely understand." He grew silent again, leaving the decision to talk up to her. She was quiet for so long, he almost thought that she was going to keep everything to herself.

But then she finally spoke. "My mother received a phone call from one of her friends who told her that she'd heard that I was dating my bodyguard. So, she asked me if it was true."

Ben winced, belatedly realizing how Christine's little scheme had come around to bite her in the butt as far as her mother was concerned. No doubt, Audrey hadn't been pleased to hear that her daughter might be dating someone far beneath their social stature. Not when Audrey expected far better for Christine—even if that meant marrying a man who didn't love and cherish her, as Jason clearly had not.

He wrapped a silky strand of her hair around his finger, feeling just ensnared by the woman herself. "What did you tell your mother?"

"That my personal life was no longer any of her business," she said with a mutinous lift of her chin. "But she wouldn't leave it alone and kept pushing for an answer, so I told her the truth, that I was dating you, and it shouldn't be an issue with her since I'm an adult, I'm single, and it wasn't her choice to make. And that, of course, led to a heated argument about…"

She let the rest of her sentence trail off as she shook her head and looked away, giving Ben the distinct feeling that the unpleasant verbal exchange had been all about him, and not in a positive way, either. And knowing that made him all the more aware of the many differences between them when it came to living in the Delacroix's world of wealth, politics, and high-society precedence.