Filthy Rich (18 page)

She'd never felt so at home before.

Shock held her still for a moment. She sat up and hugged a pillow as she tried to decipher why there were tears stinging her eyes. He took her breath away with the way he lived. The house wasn't built to impress his friends; instead, she got the impression that he'd designed it because he wanted to enjoy time with them. She could easily see the two younger cousins who had attended Tarak's wedding running across the back deck and jumping into the pool.

The house she'd shared with Caspian had been cold and devoid of life. Its sleek lines and polished marble floors had dampened any burst of playfulness before it got the chance to get started.

“You're thinking about Caspian.” Nartan had all the covers kicked off and was lying on his back with one arm flung above his head.

He opened his eyes, displaying an unmistakable glitter.

She nodded. “I like your house.”

He reached up and stroked her cheek.

“And I can totally see your cousins making s'mores at the fire pit.” She shifted her attention to the deck. “It's really great.”

“With you here, I think it can be.” He sat up and snuggled behind her. “But it takes two to make a home.”

Doubt intruded, dampening her enjoyment. “I've never lived in a home. I'm not sure I know how to make one.”

He placed a kiss on her shoulder. “Hmmmm…” He reached around to cup one of her breasts. “We can start with the s'mores, but if you get chocolate on me, I'm going to make you lick it off.”

She swung a pillow at him, turning around and settling on her knees. He choked on his laughter as he put up his hands to shield himself. The bed rocked as he reached for her and rolled her beneath him.

“I have to get to work,” she reminded him.

He nuzzled her neck, sweeping her hair aside so he could press a line of kisses against her throat.

“We need to adjust your hours…to allow for mornings in bed,” he purred against her neck.

“I like my job.”

He rubbed himself against her, sending a rush of excitement through her that escaped her lips in a little sigh.

“You'll like mornings in bed, too,” he promised wickedly.

“Maybe.” She slid her hands up his arms, enjoying the feeling of how hard he was. Her fingertips seemed more sensitive when they were in contact with him. All of her senses were heightened. The world beyond his bed lost its meaning as he sealed her lips beneath his in a slow, hard kiss that drove her insane. He pressed into her, riding her as passion built, and then hammering hard through both their climaxes.

It was a while later before Celeste opened her eyes again. “I see uses for that ceiling,” she muttered after glancing at the clock. She still wasn't late.

Nartan stretched and rolled out of bed. “I was raised in the desert, so I sleep right through dawn.”

He pulled on a pair of sweat shorts and winked at her. “How do you like your eggs?”

“Poached,” she answered before yawning.

He disappeared, leaving her with another look at his master bedroom. The bed was on a raised portion of it. The colors were maroons and golds, the floor covered in warm brown wood. Stretching out around her were windows from floor to ceiling that looked out over the ocean and a corral. She walked down the two steps from the bed and moved closer to the one that faced the corral. The two horses they'd ridden were slowly grazing.

“Horses and ocean.” Nartan reappeared with her bag and suit. “The two things I swore I'd have views of if Tarak and I ever struck gold up on that frozen claim. These all open up.” He indicated the panels. “To let the breeze in.”

“It's amazing.”

“Caspian lived in high style, so that's a compliment.”

“Not really.” She shuddered and turned around to take her bag. “It might have been high style, but it was cold. I never pictured anyone making s'mores in the backyard fire pit. I'm not sure I ever walked barefoot through the marble hallways.”

So cold and devoid of life, it had been like a giant office building. She looked back at the bed and the morning light washing over it. She smiled, joy lifting the corners of her lips. It was just there, the feeling warming her from the inside.

“Make yourself at home.” His tone held a wealth of meaning—rich, deep, and full of promise that set off a little ripple of excitement. She shied away from it, fearing the loss when reality smashed in on her.

They hadn't known each other long enough.

It made sense, good sense, but the thought slipped right out of her mind because she felt like she was glowing with happiness.

She wandered toward the bathroom. Just like the master suite, it was lavish but tastefully designed. The shower looked out over the cliff. A huge wall along the side of the yard made sure no one could see in from the road. But instead of concrete blocks, the wall was made of cobblestones. She should have felt exposed, but she realized Nartan didn't like to be caged.

That was something she could understand.

The master suite was connected to the main section of the house through a hallway. She passed an office and another room set up as a home gym. The scent of coffee teased her nose so she moved on into the main living area.

But she froze when she got a look at Nartan.

“What?” he questioned, proving that he'd heard her. He turned to look at her while holding a spatula in one hand and wearing a chef's apron. “No confidence in my cooking ability?”

She moved across the spacious great room to a barstool tucked under the edge of a kitchen island with a granite countertop.

“No, I guess I didn't expect you to be cooking.” He slid a cup of coffee toward her. She lifted it and inhaled its rich aroma before taking a sip. When she opened her eyes, Nartan was absorbed in what he had sizzling on the stove. It was a massive eight-burner range with a stainless-steel hood above it. “Guess it makes sense that you'd have a culinary degree.”

He shrugged and brandished his spatula in the air. “No degree. After I bought Angelino's, I had the chefs teach me. Perk of being the new owner. They had to tutor me. How did you manage to get through Harvard Law without financial support from family?”

She smiled above the rim of the mug. “Checked me out?”

“I like to see it as reading up on something I'm fascinated by.”

“Ha!” She put the coffee down and pointed at him. “You were looking for a way to track me.”

He pulled a plate from a warming rack and began to load it. “Guilty. But you redirected, and honestly, you should be proud. Getting to where you are with no support is an achievement.”

He delivered a plate that had an array of breakfast foods. Ham, potatoes, toast, and a perfectly poached egg. Steam rose from it and her belly rumbled.

Nartan was pouring himself a cup of coffee when he heard the sound of her belly growling. He sent her one of his deadly gorgeous grins. “You seem to have worked up an appetite.”

“I did.” She took a bite of the egg and hummed with delight. “You know, a man with your mad skills in the kitchen might just be worth keeping.”

“Where…wrapped around your finger?” He sat down with a plate of his own. “How did you manage to get accepted to Harvard?”

She laughed and finished off the egg. “Your report should have told you I had one of the top scores in the nation on the SAT. Harvard gave me a scholarship for my undergrad work. Without it, there is no way I could have gotten a degree from an Ivy League school, much less gone on to attend their law school. My foster family made it clear I was on my own the moment the state checks stopped coming. I made sure I stayed at the top of my class so I'd have a shot at a scholarship for law school too. Spent my summers working for a very notable law firm to help that dream come true. The firm's lawyers helped me get into law school.”

“How did you get the SAT score?” he questioned bluntly. “It sounds like there wasn't much support on the home front and you went to a public high school with minimal resources.”

She smiled with satisfaction. “The school library had a computer program heralded to be one hundred percent effective in raising SAT scores. It was free because of that minimal achievement record the school had. They needed some guinea pigs, and I had nothing to go home to anyway. Used to stay until they kicked me out, just working through those questions until I had that information memorized. I understand I'm one of their prize marketing-poster children.” But a memory stirred and she sipped at her coffee, hoping it would dissipate.

“Spill it, Celeste.”

She looked up and found Nartan watching her with his blue eyes.

“You always roll your lower lip in when you are thinking about holding something back.”

“Maybe,” she answered, suddenly feeling tired. “But I promised myself that I wouldn't spend my life talking about Caspian. He loved the fact that I was the library mouse and that he could brag to all his buddies who grew up just as rich and entitled as he did about how he rescued me. He liked to tell me how grateful I should be for his rescue.” She tapped the granite countertop with her fingernail. “I earned everything I am.”

A tingle touched her nape. She slid off the barstool, but Nartan came around the kitchen island before she could take a single step away from him. He caught her, pulling her against him.

“The difference between him and me is that I see the value in earning your affection.” He smoothed his hands down her back. “Give me the chance to do that.”

Part of her wanted to say yes so badly that she bit her lower lip to contain it. He reached up and pressed his thumb against her chin and pulled it down. She ended up smiling, another one of those bubbles of happiness lodged in her chest. It was a ridiculous sort of elation, one that made no sense and didn't need to. She just felt ecstatic.

“Relationships require give and take, Nartan.” She eased herself from his embrace and grabbed her coffee to finish it off.

He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the countertop in complete business mode. “Meaning what?”

“No driver.”

He contemplated her for a moment.

“You said it yourself. Marcus would enjoy anyone showing up to mess with me, and the only other place I go is the studio.”

“Which I made the same argument about,” he finished.

She nodded.

“You move in here.”

Her mouth went dry. “Are you sure?” She sounded lame, or at the least in need of a dose of self-confidence. “I mean, this relationship is sort of new. We might crowd each other.”

“We can't keep our hands off each other. Worry more about me driving recklessly because I'm in such a hurry to get to your place.”

Her cheeks turned pink. “I'm going to work,” she warned him as she stepped back.

“Would it freak you out if I told you I want you to work for me?”

“Yes.” And thrill her, but she wasn't going to admit it.

He slowly smiled. “We could enjoy nooners.”

She had to choke back a half laugh. “Cute.”

“There's nothing cute about me.”

“On that we agree,” she answered. “You're hard and dangerous to the core. But I'm late for work and you made me leave my car behind.”

His teasing demeanor vanished, leaving her facing the business side of his persona again. “You keep me in the loop on where you are.”

“You don't forget to tell your ‘friends' that you're in a relationship, starting with Laura,” she countered.

“Done.”

He moved past her and headed across the great room. Her purse was sitting on a small table by the garage door. He pushed the door open and flipped on a light. The Jeep was parked next to a full-size truck complete with snorkel, which was next to a BMW sedan, which was next to a Lamborghini in the same blue as Nartan's eyes.

“Take your pick.” He pointed at a row of hooks inside the entryway door with keys hanging from them.

She looked back at the Lamborghini. “You really need a security system with that thing parked in here.”

“Tarak is sending one of his people over this morning to deal with it.” He grabbed the keys to the Lamborghini and tossed them to her. “Enjoy. But I know your weak spots now. Sports cars and s'mores. I plan to exploit my new knowledge.”

“That was your cousins making s'mores.”

He licked his lower lip. “I'm altering the idea to suit my mood.”

She backed away with her hands up in surrender. “I'm leaving.”

He pushed his lip out in a pout.

“And you have things to do too,” she instructed. “Or we'll be too broke to afford s'mores.”

He bit the air, his expression tightening. “Right here…seven thirty sharp.”

“It's a date.”

So
simple.

And
it
felt
so
right.

Turning around took more effort than was logical.

She should have taken the sedan, but she just couldn't force herself to give up the chance to drive the sapphire-blue Lamborghini. The key was already in her hand, tempting her beyond her control. Her cell phone started ringing, shaking her back into the real world.

“Got to go.”

He punched the garage door opener, and the double garage door behind the sleek sports car started sliding up. He watched her slip behind the wheel and adjust the seat and mirrors. The engine turned over and purred like a kitten.

Tiger kitten, that was.

It suited him.

That was the thought that stuck as she pulled out of the garage and watched him walk over to the corral. Both horses perked up and came to the rail. He reached out to stroke their necks. She was barely moving, unwilling to leave while he was allowing her to see the personal side of him. It felt like a privilege, one she enjoyed deep inside her heart. There was suddenly less enticement from the rest of the world, less of a pull to get out into it.