Her Alpha Saviors [The Hot Millionaires #2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (6 page)

She’d liked Luke from the word go, and even Jay was growing on her. He lost his acerbic edge as the day went on, and she even caught him looking at her once or twice as though he admired what she was trying to achieve.

“Get real, Skye Harrison,” she said aloud as she energetically tossed soiled straw into a barrel, put her pitchfork aside, and set off to get a new bale. Or she would have done if she hadn’t turned and walked straight into a solid male torso. A jolt of awareness rocked her entire body, and she knew who that broad chest belonged to, even before she lifted her eyes to its owner’s face.

“What are you doing here?” she asked Jay.

* * * *

His arms automatically closed round her when she collided with him and he wasn’t in any hurry to release her, especially when he was able to confirm that she was just the right height to fit perfectly against him. It was she who broke the connection by stepping backward.

“I happened to see you from my window,” he said.

She quirked a brow. “And followed me?”

“I was curious.”

“Surprising as it might seem, I do have a life outside the pub.”

“And there I was thinking you were wedded to the place.”

“Just because I need your money, it doesn’t mean you have the right to pry into my personal activities.”

Much she knew!

“Where’s your horse?”

“Still in the field. Since you’re here you can make yourself useful and grab a bale of straw from the barn for me whilst I get her in. Just dump it inside the box and I’ll sort it when I get back.” She flashed a cheeky grin that, under other circumstances, would have earned her a good spanking. Jay very much doubted if that cute ass had ever been spanked before, and he’d have to introduce to the delights of that particular punishment very gently. “I don’t expect a city boy like you to know how to make a horse’s bed.”

“You do me an injustice,” he purred in her ear. “There’s very little about beds that I don’t know.”

She rolled her eyes. “How did I know you were going to say that?”

“Admit it,” he said. “You were hoping I’d flirt with you.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re the most arrogant man on God’s earth?”

Jay chuckled. “Frequently.”

She tossed her head. “Obviously not frequently enough.”

“I didn’t believe them.”

“You should have.”

Jay stepped aside to let her pass, rock hard as he watched the sway of her slender hips. She grabbed a lead rope and headed toward the nearest paddock. Fuck it, he wanted her!

She returned a short time later with a decent palomino mare dancing along beside her. Jay gave both the horse and its owner a thorough once-over, liking what he saw but not yet ready to let on quite how much he knew about horses.

“Pretty,” he said, patting the mare’s neck. “What’s her name?”

“Rio.” Skye grabbed a brush and went to work on the mare’s muddy legs. “And she’s the love of my life.”

At present.
“Expensive things, horses.”

Skye dropped the brush and placed her hands on her hips, an attitude he was starting to recognize when she was angry. “In case you’re implying that I can’t afford her, even though it’s none of your damned business, then you’re quite wrong. Patrick owns four acres of paddocks and these ramshackle stables. It’s not enough grass for his liveries, so I let him use the two acres that come with the pub in return for free stabling.”

Jay could see how annoyed it made her when he merely laughed at her fit of pique.

“You need to learn to relax, sweetheart,” he said easily, leaning against the door to Rio’s box with his arms folded across his chest. “I was just making an observation.”

“I know what you were
just
doing,” she grumbled, pulling the muddy rug off Rio’s back and replacing it with an indoor one. “Why do all the men in my life think it’s their duty to control me?”

Jay frowned. “Who else tries to control you?”

“No one. Now, if you’ll excuse me I’d better get her bed put down.” Skye pushed past Jay and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the neatly made bed with the straw piled against the walls to prevent drafts seeping in. “You’ve done it. And properly, too. Thanks.” She led Rio into her bedroom and released the lead rope. “Where did you learn to do that?”

“I wasn’t always a city boy, you know. I grew up on a farm in Wyoming. I could ride before I could walk.”

“New York must have been quite a culture shock then,” she remarked, watching Rio as she tucked into her feed. “Isn’t that where you were living in the States?”

“For a while but I’m settled in England now.”

Apparently satisfied that all was in order, Skye closed the door on the horse, picked up her gear, and headed for the tack room.

“Don’t you miss it?” she asked. “The outdoor life, horses and everything, I mean.”

“At first I was too ambitious to notice it was gone. Now,” he shrugged. “Well, now I can do whatever I damned well like.”

And what he liked the idea of more than anything else right then was holding this fiery little innkeeper with the sparkling eyes and quick temper in his arms and kissing her witless. It would be a mistake. He’d be showing his hand too quickly and, for once, he wasn’t entirely sure that he’d be welcomed. Even so, the tack room doubled as a hay barn, and it was too good an opportunity to pass up.

She put her stuff away and turned, much has she had earlier, straight into his arms. They closed about her, firmly this time as she looked up at him, surprise in her eyes. Surprise and something else. Curiosity, perhaps. Hell if he knew. His own reaction to the feel of her soft curves pressed against the hard planes of his body was predictable but far more intense than he’d anticipated. He glanced at her face. The warm richness of her gaze as it roamed across his features hit him squarely in the gut. She was hesitant, and he could sense her desire to escape him. Unwilling to fall at the first hurdle, Jay decided to give her a reason to stay. He dropped his head and captured her lips, crushing her mouth beneath his, searching for a response.

It was so slow in coming that Jay thought he was losing his touch. When, with a slow sigh of capitulation, her lips parted beneath his, he felt ridiculously triumphant. With seductive strokes of his tongue he explored the contours of her mouth, feeding from its sweetness as he deepened the kiss. His hands longed to roam, and that pile of soft hay looked so damned tempting. Skye, stripped of her clothes, her hair spiked of hay, would be a sight worth seeing, but that wasn’t going to happen. At least not yet. Problem was, Jay didn’t know how best to move this forward. Skye was a grown woman, but he sensed her inexperience. To get her to agree to what he and Luke had in mind for her, he needed to use the carrot and stick approach.

It killed him not to take just a little preview of what she had hidden beneath that thin shirt of hers. Surely that couldn’t hurt? The decision was made for him when she wrenched herself out of his arms and turned her back on him. Shit, he’d upset her.

“Sorry,” he said, although he wasn’t sorry at all. “Can’t think what came over me.”

When she turned to face him again she looked dazed, confused, and delightfully rumpled. “Is that how you always do business?” she asked. “If I want your help with The Fox I have to go to bed with you. Is that it?”

Jay could see that she was furious. “It wouldn’t be
that
bad,” he said, attempting to lighten the mood.

“Oh, I’m sure you give complete satisfaction,” she said, raking his body with her gaze. “In fact, you said something along those lines earlier, I seem to recall.”

“Skye,” he said, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her gently. “Whether or not I agree to help you with The Fox
has absolutely nothing to do with this.” He waved a hand between them. “With us, I mean.”

“There is no us.”

“But if there ever were to be, it would be entirely consensual, with no coercion on my part.”

“That’s good to know.”

He released her shoulders, his temper on the rise. “I don’t believe this. You’re acting like a scandalized virgin, just because we had one little kiss.” He beetled his brows. “You’re not a virgin, are you?”

Much to his astonishment her anger appeared to drain away, and she offered him a dazzling smile, like she’d just figured out a way to get the upper hand.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out, Mr. Blanchard.”

She swept past him and headed for The Fox
without a backward glance.

“I’ll be damned,” Jay said, shaking his head as he watched her go.

* * * *

Skye could hear the steady plod of Jay’s boots immediately behind her and almost ran back to the pub in order to avoid him. What the hell did he think he was playing at? He’d spent the whole day being sarcastic or just downright rude to her, and now he’d made a pass at her. His behaviour was making her crazy. She’d felt that bloody kiss all the way to her toes, not to mention her pussy, which was now soaking wet, and she wasn’t a bit happy about that. Jay Blanchard was toying with her for reasons she had yet to fathom, and she had no intention of dancing to his tune.

Jay could have caught up with her if he’d really wanted to. He obviously didn’t want to, which was a good thing.
Right?
She threw herself into her loft, with its sloping roofs and lack of heating. For the second time that day she treated herself to a full ninety-second shower. Talk about self-indulgent, she thought with a wry grin. In spite of the fact that she was late, her fingers lingered on her clit. Jay had aroused her, and she needed to do what she did with all her sexual urges nowadays and deal with it herself.

She parted her slick folds and delved two fingers deep inside her vagina, sighing in anticipation as she rubbed her thumb against her clit. She relived that kiss, the wild sensation of Jay’s erection stabbing against her stomach, and felt the heat building inside her. The water pounded against her body as she inserted a third finger and increased the pace of her thrusting. She threw her head backward and leaned against the shower stall wall for support as her legs threatened to buckle beneath the sensation.

Damn, she needed this. Was Jay serious? Did he really mean to pursue her? Jeez, it felt good. She was close. She was going to come any second now. If he did mean it, she probably wouldn’t turn him down. Ahh, here it came. She screamed as sensation assailed her from all angles, deeper, more intense than it had been for months.

Calm again, Skye exited the stall seconds before the hot water ran out, and she was treated to a cold shower instead. Bit late for that, she thought ruefully. As she changed into smart trousers and a clean blouse she decided it was all Jay’s fault that she felt so incomplete, as though something was missing from her life. She ran a brush through her damp hair, dabbed on a spot of lip gloss and mascara, and was good to go.

She hadn’t bothered with sex since she and Peter broke up. Was it really six months since a man had shared her bed? Not that he’d been any great shakes between the sheets so sex hadn’t featured high on her agenda. Jay bloody Blanchard, with just one kiss and an arrogant lift of an eyebrow, had made her wonder if it was time to think about something other than The Fox.
He wouldn’t be here for long. Something told her he’d know his way round a woman’s body without the need for a map, and she reckoned his guarantee of complete satisfaction wasn’t far from the mark, the arrogant prick!

“Unbelievable,” she muttered. “I can’t believe the thoughts I’m having.”

She let herself out of her flat, already halfway convinced that if the opportunity came to have some fun with Jay then she’d grab it with both hands.

“Right, here goes nothing.”

She straightened her spine and walked through the kitchen into the restaurant. The tables that had been reserved—all six of them—were occupied by the time Skye put in her belated appearance. She refused to feel guilty for being late, or for what caused her delay. Two more tables had been taken, making the restaurant half full. Jay and Luke waved to her from behind a bottle of wine. She returned their greeting but pointed to her watch and didn’t break stride as she headed for the bar, which was gratifyingly full. She needed to ask a favour of a few of the regulars before her American guests finished their dinner.

She greeted Kevin, her regular barman, with a bright smile.

“Sorry I left you to cope alone.”

“No probs. Busy tonight,” he added. “Everyone’s on parade. Reckon they all want to see the Yanks for themselves.”

Skye thought that, too. What would villages be without gossip and a healthy dose of busybodying to keep their lifeblood flowing? She didn’t much care if they talked about her, just so long as it brought in much-needed custom and gave a positive impression of what could be achieved here.

She took a second to glance with affection round the bar. Its low-beamed ceiling, whitewashed walls, and roaring log fire never failed to soothe her. If the Americans couldn’t see its potential on a night like this then she might as well pack up shop right now because this was as good as it ever got. As far as Skye was concerned, that was pretty damned good.