Millionaire in a Stetson (19 page)

“Now, you’re catching on.”

“Oh, I’ve caught completely on. How long will it take you to get ready?”

“Give me thirty minutes.”

Niki showered, dried her hair and put on some makeup. Unfortunately, she had nothing suitable to wear to the club. Her hair and glasses created a partial disguise. And she could add a hat and scarf, but the less she stood out, the better.

A quick trip to a boutique down the block had her outfitted in a cowl-neck white sleeveless sweater, a short pleated plaid skirt, a pair of navy flats, and a floppy hat and colorful silk scarf that partially obscured her face.

In the foyer of his penthouse, Sawyer eyed her critically. “It’s really hard to dress you down.”

“I’m trying to blend,” she pointed out.

“Thank goodness for the glasses.”

“You don’t like my glasses?” Niki had gotten used to them and was growing quite fond of them.

“I love your glasses. I love the outfit. I think you look sensational.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is you’ll attract attention wherever you go.”

Niki’s hands went to her hips. “Why? I don’t understand.” She glanced in the hallway mirror. “I look perfectly ordinary.”

“You look like a sex kitten trying to pretend she’s a librarian.”

“Excuse me?”

“In an odd kind of way, it makes you sexier.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Why do you think your mother was so successful?”

“I know she was pretty,” Niki admitted. There was no point in pretending anything else.

“She was beyond pretty. She was the kind of woman men meet and then fantasize about for the rest of their lives.”

Niki frowned. “You’re talking about my mother here.”

“But I’m thinking about you. I don’t know what you see when you look in the mirror, but I see intense bedroom eyes, flushed cheeks and pouty lips with a just-loved swollen look that drives a man out of his mind. Right now, it’s all I can do not to haul you into the nearest bedroom, throw up that flirty, little skirt and ravish you on the spot.”

Niki was literally speechless. She was also intensely aroused, and completely unnerved by her reaction to him. What on earth did a woman say in response to that?

Besides yes. And, oh, how she wanted to say yes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Sawyer growled.

“I’m…not…”

He took a step toward her, then another.

As his hands spanned her rib cage, she told herself to protest. But they were warm through her sweater, sexy, arousing. Her backed her up, deliberately, relentlessly, until she was pressed up against the wall.

Then in slow motion, giving her plenty of time to say no, he bent to kiss her. He planted his mouth firmly against her own, engulfing her lips, his tongue invading, his arms sliding around her.

She moaned once before her arms twined around his neck. She came up on her toes, tipped her head, deepened their kiss, letting her passion run wild through her bloodstream. This was a terrible, terrible idea, but, she’d wanted him for so long.

He kissed her neck, pulled aside the sweater, kissing his way to her bare shoulder. One hand encircled her breast, and she felt her nipple peak instantly against his palm.

She moaned his name, her fingers digging into his hair, bracing herself against the smooth, solid wall.

“Niki,” he groaned. This time, her name on his lips brought nothing but a massive wave of desire that took over her system, hijacking her last shred of reason.

His free hand found the hem of her skirt, fingers contacting her bare leg. He stroked upward, and her breathing deepened. Then he found the silken scrap of her panties.

“Do you want this?” he growled in her ear.

“Yes,” she hissed in abject surrender. “Yes.”

He stripped off her panties, tossing them aside. Then he swiftly loosened his own pants, producing a condom, lifting her, wrapping her legs around his waist.

“Okay?” he asked breathlessly.

She gave a rapid nod, biting down on her bottom lip to keep from begging him to do it, to make them one again.

He thrust inside.

She buried her face in the crook of his neck, tasting the salt of his skin, inhaling his musky scent, tightening her thighs around him as he moved rhythmically in and out.

His hands were hot on her buttocks, the wall cool against her back. His lips found hers again, drinking deeply, his tongue demanding, while his body took her to higher and higher heights.

She seemed to shimmer forever, sounds ringing in her ears, lights flashing before her eyes, muscles clenching harder and harder. Then he called out her name, and the world cascaded into ecstasy.

After long minutes, her body’s throbbing subsided. Their breathing seemed to stabilize. Sawyer slowly turned, bracing his own back against the wall. Then he sank down, and her legs touched the soft carpet, and he came to a rest.

He gave her a sweet kiss, then touched his forehead to hers.

Her pleasure was rapidly being replaced by embarrassment. What had she done? What had they done? A romantic date ending in the bed of a fine hotel was one thing. But this was a quick, lusty interlude in his hallway, when they knew better, when they should have kept their hands completely to themselves.

When she managed to speak, her voice sounded small. “I don’t suppose we could forget this ever happened?”

“We can try.” His tone was decidedly skeptical.

“How about we make sure it never happens again?”

“We can try.” He tipped his head and kissed her mouth, then again, and again.

She drew in a heavy, heady breath. “I’m not liking our chances much,” she admitted.

He smoothed back her hair, gazing softly into her eyes. “Let’s just get through today, okay? Then we’ll see what happens after that.”

“This would be so much easier if you were evil.”

“I was thinking exactly the same thing about you.”

Eleven

A
fter Sawyer signed them into the Congressional Country Club, Niki started on the most direct route to the locker room. They made it through the lobby, down the main staircase and along the breezeway that bypassed the signature restaurant and the cigar lounge.

But, cutting across a veranda, their luck ran out.

“Sawyer,” a thirty-ish man boomed. His hair was trimmed neat. He wore a dark suit, white shirt, silk tie and expensive wingtips.

“Miles,” Sawyer answered smoothly, giving the man a handshake. “Good to see you again so soon.”

Miles glanced curiously at Niki.

“This is Nellie,” said Sawyer. “An…acquaintance of mine. We met in St. Moritz a few years back.”

The expression on Miles’s face would have been insulting if it wasn’t so convenient. Clearly, he thought acquaintance was a euphemism for one-night stand.

“Nellie,” Sawyer continued. “Miles is a Congressman from Delaware. He’s engaged to my sister Roxanne.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” said Niki. “I, uh, need to…” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the veranda staircase.

“Please, join me.” Miles indicated a nearby table.

“We were on our way out,” said Sawyer. “She’s got a plane to catch.”

Miles nodded knowingly, sliding a glance at Niki. Fortunately, he was paying very little attention to her face. “Nuff said.”

Sawyer clapped him on the shoulder. “Appreciate your discretion.”

“Not a problem.”

Then Sawyer swiftly guided Niki toward the stairs.

“Lovely,” she muttered under her breath.

“Ensures he won’t ask any questions about you around my family. He thinks he’s in on a dirty little secret.”

“I’ve never been anyone’s dirty little secret.”

“You’re turning me on.”

“That’s disgusting.”

Sawyer grinned unrepentantly.

“Layton,” came another voice. This one from a sixty-something man, also dressed in an expensive suit, which only made sense, given there was no one here but the who’s who of the city.

“Judge Needly,” Sawyer responded with the obligatory handshake.

The man barely glanced at Niki, clearly dismissing her as unimportant. Fine with her.

“How’s your uncle?” Judge Needly asked.

“Doing well,” said Sawyer.

Niki took a slow step backward, keeping her head turned, glancing surreptitiously around to see if she recognized anyone seated at the tables. She wondered if she should keep walking by herself. At this rate, she and Sawyer were never going to make it to the locker room, let alone back out of the club again.

The judge leaned in to Sawyer. “I hear through the grapevine that Charles and I may have a mutual interest.”

“Sir?” Sawyer asked.

“A little issue that came up about three months ago. A matter requiring a certain amount of confidentiality.”

Niki keyed in on the conversation. About three months ago?

She glanced at Sawyer, but his face remained impassive.

“Is there a way I can help?” Sawyer asked.

Judge Needly kept his voice low. “I know Charles is involved.” He held up his hand. “No, no. Don’t bother confirming or denying. My sources are solid. Just tell Charles to give me a call when he has a chance. I’ve got a few things in the works that might interest him.”

“I’ll tell him,” said Sawyer. Again, his expression betrayed nothing.

“Appreciate it,” said the judge, offering another handshake.

“Not at all,” Sawyer returned.

Once again, she and Sawyer went on their way.

“What is the matter with you people?” Niki demanded.

“Who people? Club members?”

“Men,” she clarified. “Is there some unspoken fraternity of illicit sex amongst you rich guys?”

“Pretty much,” said Sawyer.

She stared at him in shocked disbelief.

He shrugged. “What do you want me to say? Many women are attracted to wealth and power. Some powerful men take advantage of the situation.”

“No wonder you’re so easy to manipulate.”

“Hey.” He held his palms up in surrender. “I’m not the guy doing it.”

“You let Miles think you were.”

“That was to protect you, not me.” His arm slipped around her shoulders, and for a split second she allowed herself to feel safe.

They made it to the bottom of the stairs.

“We can’t talk about it now,” said Sawyer as they approached the outside entrance to the locker room. “But I’d never be anything but proud to show you off as mine.”

She shrugged her way out of his embrace. “You mean if things were different?”

“That’s not what I—”

“Things aren’t different, Sawyer. And they’re never going to be different. I think we should stick to our original agreement.” She had to keep a firm grip on reality here. Falling for Sawyer had hurt her once. She couldn’t let it happen again.

“What was that?”

“We forget it happened.”

“I didn’t—”

“Look, ladies only.” She pushed open the locker-room door and left him standing outside.

Inside, the locker room was exactly how Niki remembered it. It had been quite some time since she’d been here, although the place was as serene and quiet as always. Pastel armchairs formed comfortable groupings in a parlor area. Outside the restrooms were several makeup tables, complete with upholstered, French provincial chairs. Floral arrangements were placed on polished glass tables, and baskets of expensive toiletries were displayed along gleaming, marble counters.

A large archway led to the locker area. No gray, utilitarian metal here. They were Maplewood closets, covered in a smooth, satin finish, arranged in neat rows, with crown molding along the top. There was a richly padded bench stretching down the middle of the aisle.

Niki stopped at number sixty-one. It was a corner unit, slightly larger than most others. She dialed the combination and opened the louvered door. Inside was a row of hangers with a single sweater she’d left behind the last time she’d played. On the floor of the locker were two pairs of golf shoes. And on the top shelf, there was a makeup bag and a couple of bottles of shampoo and conditioner.

She went up on her toes, feeling around at the back of the shelf. Her hand contacted a second makeup case. She drew it forward. It was turquoise leather, with a jeweled zipper and two front pockets. Niki had never seen it before.

She glanced over each shoulder, confirming she was still alone. She drew the zipper slowly open, holding her breath, hardly believing she might have actually found it.

Sure enough. There it was, a thick, tan leather volume with parchment pages, each covered in her mother’s flowery handwriting. Niki couldn’t help but smile as she flipped through and saw the different colored ink. Her mother had written in pink, purple, red, green and orange.

Impulsively, she raised the open book to her nose and inhaled. It was Gabriella’s perfume, and Niki had to blink back tears.

“Oh, mom.” She sighed. “I wish I was as brave as you.”

But Gabriella’s voice was silent inside her head. This was obviously new territory for both of them.

Niki zipped up the turquoise case, shut the locker door and secured it. Then she squared her shoulders, retracing her steps, opening the outside door to meet Sawyer’s quizzical gaze.

She discreetly pointed to the case, receiving a slight nod in return. Then he took her arm, and they headed back up the stairs. They stayed focused on the exit route, and nobody stopped them this time. They kept silent until they were inside Sawyer’s Maserati.

“That’s it?” he confirmed.

“That’s it,” she told him.

They shared a long look.

“Okay,” he said, turning the key. “Okay. Now we find out what we’re dealing with here.”

* * *

Back in Sawyer’s penthouse, Niki sat flush against him on the sofa as they shared the diary. It started when Gabriella was twelve, several months after her parents were killed in the interstate pileup and she was left alone. She hadn’t written every day, maybe once every couple of weeks.

Obviously, the crash had been terrible. Gabriella had been lucky, receiving nothing but cuts and bruises. But she’d been placed in a foster home, then another and another. She’d hated them all, the impersonal parents, the hostile children, and the regiment of explaining every detail of her private life to a parade of social workers. The pain and loneliness was clear in her writing.