No Reservations (21 page)

“But your grandfather wanted your dad to take over the business. By that time, your
parents had married and had you. And life with your mom was difficult.” Beatrice grimaced.
“If we’d only known why back then, we might have been able to get her some help, but
her parents had covered up her problems for so many years, it was second nature by
then.”

As it had been for him and Jed growing up. They’d become experts at evading questions
about their mom. They’d give just enough information to satisfy teachers who asked
where they’d been for days on end when she’d pull them out of school to fly to Europe
at a moment’s notice because she felt the need to escape.

“So Dad took over the business because Granddad forced it on him. And now he’s doing
the same to me.”

“Are you positive about that?”

“Well, he told me that if Jed or I don’t take over the chairman’s seat on the board,
he’s going to sell. That kind of feels like he’s forcing the issue to me.”

“And do you want the job?”

“It’s more complicated than that, Nana. You know that.”

“Is it?”

Beatrice’s seemingly simple question made the roiling thoughts in his head slow. She
definitely had something she wanted him to hear but obviously wanted him to come to
it on his own.

“Are you trying to tell me there’s an easy answer to all of this? Because if there
is, I haven’t come up with it.”

“Then maybe you’re overthinking the problem.”

His gaze sharpened on his grandmother’s amused blue eyes as an idea occurred to him.
“Thanks for the drink, Nana, but I have to go. I have a little research to do before
tomorrow.”

He rose, kissed her cheek again, and headed for the door, still carrying his drink.
He had a feeling he’d need it.

“Something special going on tomorrow?” his grandmother asked. “Or should I say, someone
special?”

Hand on the doorknob, he turned, hiding a smile at the knowing tone of her voice.
“You could say that.”

“Why don’t you bring Kate for brunch with me Sunday morning? Not too early, of course.
I’d love to see her again, get to know her a little better. After all, she did find
my ring.”

And Tyler knew exactly where his grandmother was going with this. “Nana—”

“No, no. Don’t say anything. Off you go. You have work to do. And I . . . Well, I
think I’ll go shopping. One can never have too many purses.”

**

“Kate, hi. This is Dinah Malinowski. I wonder if you have a few minutes to talk.”

It took a second for the name to register when Kate answered her phone Friday afternoon,
but her heart had already begun to pound.

Setting aside the dress she was taking in, she stood and headed for the bathroom.
“Prof—Dinah, how are you?”

The laughter in her ear made her smile as Kate shut herself in the bathroom. “I’m
fine. Especially since I hope we’ll be working together. You’re talking to the new
costume designer of the off-Broadway Downstairs Playhouse, and I’ve got the perfect
job for you.”

Kate’s mouth opened but all that emerged was “Oh, my God.”

After Dinah finished laughing, she started to talk about the theater and the job while
Kate’s head spun.

“I know it’s a lot to take in immediately, but I’d like you to come up to the city
so you can get a feel for the job and make a decision. Would sometime next week be
okay?”

It would take some finagling with Joe but . . . “Of course. I should be able to carve
out some time in the middle of next week. Dinah, I can’t thank you enough.”

“Oh, don’t thank me yet. You might not want the job after you see what it entails.
But after we talked last week, I knew you were the right person for this spot.”

Kate spent the rest of the day in a fog. Luckily, she didn’t screw up anyone’s clothing,
but Joe had that look in his eye. The one that said he knew something was up.

Between Joe’s constant attention and the fact that she couldn’t wait to see Tyler
tomorrow, the day couldn’t pass fast enough.

Of course, tomorrow she’d also be seeing Greg. And he’d be seeing a hell of a lot
of her.

Which made her nervous. And horny.

God, was she horny.

And wet.

Damn it, she needed to stop letting her mind go there.

She forced herself to work Friday night until she couldn’t keep her eyes open and
paid for it Saturday morning when she had to get up at seven to be at her nine o’clock
meeting with a potential client, who wasn’t just a potential two hours later. Kate
had a down payment check in her hand and a rough sketch of an idea to get started.

By the time she got home and decided on what to wear and what to pack, it was close
to one. At this rate, she wouldn’t get to Haven until four.

By that time, she might spontaneously combust.

It was after five when she parked in the garage, and her agitation level had spiked
somewhere on the Schuylkill Expressway between the bumper-to-bumper traffic and the
three accidents.

Combine that with high-octane lust, and she was a needy mass of nerves when she finally
knocked on the door to his apartment.

She waited impatiently for him to open the door and, when he did, she nearly melted
into a pile of goo at his feet.

He wore a pair of black slacks that looked custom made and a white button-down shirt
that should’ve screamed conservative but made her want to rip the buttons off, one
by one. With her teeth.

Her first clue that he was distracted came from the quick kiss he gave her before
waving her through the door. The next was when he told her he needed time to finish
what he was doing.

“Make yourself at home. This won’t take me more than a few minutes, I swear.”

When he’d disappeared into his office, she took her overnighter to the bedroom. And
started to undress.

She’d brought new lingerie. Something she’d designed specifically for him, although
she hadn’t known it at the time. She’d designed it right after they’d met, when she’d
still been engaged to Arnie but had known it wasn’t going to work out between them.

She’d gotten the idea from one of Annabelle’s paintings, and she’d thought it would
fit tonight’s mood perfectly.

And fit her mood, as well.

She was just pulling on the matching satin chemise when she heard motion behind her.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Kate. I was looking for Tyler.”

Greg.

She froze for a second before making sure the chemise was straight. Then she turned
to face the man who was going to watch while she and Tyler made love tonight.

Instead of embarrassment painting her cheeks red, she felt excitement.

But if he’d been leering at her, she would have stomped across the room and slapped
his face. Which was stupid, all things considered.

God, it all should’ve made her crazy. Instead, she wanted this man to get so hot and
bothered while she and Tyler made love that he had to join them. Had to have her.

But he wasn’t even looking at her.

In fact, he’d turned his back to her, though he didn’t move out of the doorway.

“When did you get here?” he asked, his tone steady. As if he didn’t know or care what
was going to happen later.

And maybe he didn’t. Maybe this was just another night to him.

Maybe—

She shook her head and took a deep breath. “Just a few minutes ago. Traffic was worse
than I expected. You can turn around now. I pretty much covered everything vital.”

When he turned, his gaze met hers and his grin . . . God, the man had a smile that
made his broad features light up.

“Honey, I wouldn’t consider your legs nonvital. They’re damn near pretty enough on
their own to make me throw myself at your feet. And at my age, that’s saying something.”

Torn between so many conflicting emotions, she fell back on the tried and true: sarcasm.

Crossing her arms under her breasts, she raised an eyebrow at him. “Please, you’re
what . . . thirty-five? That’s not old in my book. And you, Mr. Bigshot Hollywood
Producer, are you trying to tell me your casting couch is ever empty?”

Mimicking her by crossing his arms, and drawing her attention to his broad chest,
Greg leaned one shoulder against the doorjamb, that grin getting more wicked by the
second.

And making it harder for her to breathe.

“I’m thirty-six. And would you like to test my casting couch?”

God, did she? What—

Tyler appeared in the doorway next to Greg, entering the room and stealing all the
air. At this rate, she’d be dizzy in seconds.

“Ignore him, Kate. Greg pretends to be an ass but it’s usually an act.”

As her gaze met Tyler’s, she realized his laser-sharp focus had returned. And landed
squarely on her.

As if he’d shut out every other distraction and she was the only thing in his life
worth having at the moment.

It literally took her breath away to have him stare at her like that. Only when her
lungs began to ache did she draw in air.

Tyler’s half grin had a definite edge to it as he stopped in front of her, blocking
out everything but him.

“I see you took my advice and made yourself comfortable.” He reached out and let his
fingers play over the wide strips of black lace that held up the bodice. She’d used
the lace as decoration around the top of the chemise, at the hem and up the side split.
“I think I recognize this.”

She’d wondered if he would. It was the same lace he’d used to tie her to her bed.

That dull flush of color spread across his cheekbones and she knew if she looked down,
his erection would be tenting the front of his pants.

“It’s a new design.” She took a step back and did a slow turn. “I got the idea from
one of Annabelle’s paintings.”

“It does look Victorian, but it also reminds me of something from the twenties. I
like it.”

“I’m glad.”

“And it looks easy to get off.”

That made her blush. She had no idea why, considering she’d been thinking about stripping
in front of his friend.

“Are you having second thoughts?”

He pitched the question in a low voice, low enough that Greg wouldn’t hear.

Although, looking over Tyler’s shoulder, she saw Greg watching them intently, his
smile gone.

Her thighs clenched and an ache started in her gut. Now was the time to back out,
if she had any doubts at all.

Her gaze reconnected with Tyler’s. “No. I’m not.”

She spoke loudly enough that Greg could hear her. Though she didn’t see his response,
she did see Tyler’s. And the scorching intensity in his gaze was enough to make her
sex tighten and moisten.

And when he bent down to kiss her, she almost wasn’t prepared for the sensation of
drowning. She felt like she was going under and she’d be damned if she cared to resurface.

He tasted hot, felt hot, and made her want to melt beneath him. Her hands rose to
cling to his shoulders, her body doing a full press against his. In her bare feet,
she barely came up to his chin, so she rose onto her toes to get a better angle at
his mouth.

Before she realized it, he’d wrapped one arm around her waist and lifted her off her
feet. She floated, weightless, even though she ached with a lust so hot, it felt like
molten lead rushing through her veins.

She wasn’t ready to release him when he broke away and set her on her feet. She curved
one hand around his neck so she could take one more kiss before drawing away.

The flush on his cheeks had deepened and his eyes glinted with promise.

“Did you eat yet?”

She shook her head. “I’m not really all that hungry.”

“Humor me. I haven’t eaten all day. I’m going to order some steaks up to the Salon.
Okay?”

“Okay.”

Nodding, he turned to Greg. “You?”

“Yeah, I could eat.”

And again, that sarcastic little devil that hid in her brain and only emerged in intense
sexual situations popped its head out again. “I guess you need to keep your strength
up, being almost forty and all.”

There was that smile again.

Had something happened to her to make her sex-crazy? She never had been before. Sex
with Arnie had been nice. Sweet. Comforting.

She’d never once considered inviting another man into their bed. Arnie would have
been scandalized. And hurt.

Tyler
wanted
to share her with Greg. Almost as if he were showing off a favorite toy.

Was that why?

Was she merely a possession he could show off, like one of Annabelle’s prized paintings
or—

“Kate, are you okay?”

And then he spoke to her in that tone of voice, as if she were the most important
thing in his world, and she knew that wasn’t it for him.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why don’t you order some food, and maybe we can have a drink. I have
an urge to curl up in front of that fireplace in the Salon.”

Fifteen

The food tray had been returned to the kitchen via the old-fashioned dumbwaiter when
Kate crooked her finger at Tyler and summoned him to her as she lay on the chaise
by the fireplace.

She practically glowed in the warm light coming from the blaze and the few lights
he’d lit around the room.

For the past hour, he’d been watching her, couldn’t take his eyes off her. She and
Greg had kept the conversation flowing through the meal of steaks and baked potatoes.
The chef had also sent up a cheesecake because he knew Tyler had a sweet tooth, but
no one had touched it yet.

The three of them had polished off a bottle of wine while they ate, and only seconds
ago, Tyler’d handed Kate a glass of champagne before giving Greg a seven and seven.

He’d wondered if she’d be nervous, but the look on her face as he crossed the floor
didn’t seem like nerves.

She looked like sex incarnate, lying on the chaise in that black satin slip, watching
him as he crossed the room to her.

Greg sat on the wing chair at the far end of the seating group. He knew from experience
that position would give him the best viewing angle—far enough away that he wouldn’t
interfere yet close enough to see everything.

Kate hadn’t asked him to come closer so she must have figured out why he’d sat there.

And it hadn’t seemed to upset her.

In fact, her excitement seemed to grow by the minute.

“Kate . . .”

She held up one finger. “You’re not going to ask the forbidden question, are you?
Because if you do, I’m walking out.”

“Whatever the hell the forbidden question is, don’t ask it, man.”

Greg’s amused tone barely made a dent in the sexual tension that filled the air between
the three of them. It’d been building all through dinner but none of them had let
the tone get too serious. Now . . .

Tyler hadn’t been about to ask her anything. He’d been going to give her an excuse
to leave, an out if she had any second thoughts.

But now . . . Now he was going to take her at her word.

Because he’d had more than enough foreplay. Watching her talk was foreplay. Watching
her sip wine was foreplay, for Christ’s sake, especially when her tongue slid out
to lick her lips.

“No more questions,” he said. “Take a sip of your champagne then set the glass on
the table.”

“Only one sip?”

It took her a few seconds to comply, her gaze on squarely on his. He saw no hesitation,
only a sexual heat that threatened to blow apart his tenuous control.

“You can have more later.”

Then again, he was fucking sick of reining himself in.

With Kate, maybe he’d found a complete match.

Putting one knee on the cushion next to her, he bent over her, fusing their lips together.
He didn’t hold anything back, forcing her lips open so he could plunder her mouth
with his tongue.

One hand reached for her breast while the other went for her thigh. He felt her draw
in a deep breath as he fucked her mouth with his tongue, felt her stiffen beneath
him, as if in shock.

But he wasn’t about to let her seize up now.

He wanted her burning and writhing beneath him, wanted her to be so wet with wanting
him that her thighs got slick with it. He wanted to coat his cock in her wetness and
then . . .

Then he wanted to fuck her ass. Just the thought of taking her in a way he was pretty
sure no one else ever had made his balls tighten.

Running his hand up her thigh, he absorbed the sensation of her skin against his,
the heat that sank into his blood and pushed him closer and closer to the edge of
insanity.

Her hands clasped his shoulders but quickly moved up to sink into his hair, tugging
at the too-long strands. He really needed a haircut but he’d been putting it off.
There just hadn’t been time. And if he had, well, then, Kate couldn’t run her fingers
through it and tug on it.

He loved the feel of her hands in his hair, mostly because he realized she liked it.

And he wanted to give her whatever she wanted.

That meant making her come until she didn’t have the energy to move.

Behind him, he heard Greg shift in his seat. Kate must have heard him as well, because
her eyes opened and she stared up into his. Again, he saw no hesitation, no shyness.
Only heat.

“So how is this going to work?”

Her voice was pitched low but he didn’t think she was trying to keep Greg from hearing.
Just that she was hyperaroused.

Shifting around so he could sit on the chaise next to her, he wove one hand into her
hair, smooth and silky between his fingers. God, he wanted to rub it all over his
body. Against his chest, his thighs. Wrap it around his cock.

His cock throbbed at the thought, pressing against the zipper of his pants.

“How do you want it to work?”

She got that look on her face, the one that said he was testing her patience. He was
coming to love that look.

“Considering this is my first time having sex with two men, I’m not quite sure.”

His gaze narrowed on hers. “The deal was for Greg to watch. Are you saying you want
Greg to join us?”

Her gaze flicked toward Greg for a brief second. “Are
you
saying you don’t have a problem with Greg touching me?”

“No, I wouldn’t. Do you want to know why?”

“Because you’re not possessive?”

“I’d break any other man’s hand if they tried to touch you. Greg is the only man I
would trust in this room with you and me.”

“Why?”

“Why do you trust Annabelle?”

She blinked up at him. “Because she’s my best friend. But I’ve never had the urge
to share a man with her.”

“But she’s the only person you would ever consider talking to about this. Because
she’s the one person you know who would understand why you did it.”

She nodded, her gaze clearing. “Yes. I understand.” She paused, her expression softening,
the corners of her lips tilting up at the slightest angle. “Will you kiss me now?”

Didn’t she already know there was nothing he’d rather do more?

He leaned down and sealed their mouths together. He’d kept a tight lid on his lust
for the past hour, not wanting to overwhelm her. But now, he released his control
and let every last bit of passion bleed out onto her.

She opened to him immediately, their tongues tangling. He savored her taste, drinking
in her passion, letting it stoke the building heat in his blood. It energized him,
electrified him.

Made him want to rush to take her.

No. This was going to be slow. He was taking his own sweet time and drowning himself
in her. Drowning her. Showing her how it could be between them. If she stayed with
him.

How good it could be.

And what pleasure he could offer her.

In his peripheral vision, he saw Greg sink deeper into the chair, his glass in one
hand. He looked deceptively lazy but Tyler knew him well enough to know he missed
nothing.

Not the way Tyler’s breathing increased as they kissed, the need for air becoming
more critical as he refused to give up her mouth.

Or the way her hands slid up and down his arms. Soft at first, as if he were fragile,
then with more pressure until she couldn’t seem to get enough of touching him.

The contact revved his heartbeat until he thought it would pound out of his chest.

He couldn’t have cared less.

Her lips moved under his with a sinuous grace, drawing him deeper into the world they
were creating between them.

That world shrank to encompass only the three of them, with Kate as the bright star
in the center.

He soaked in her heat, one hand wrapped around her hair, the other wrapped around
her throat. Her pulse beat strong beneath his thumb, and he stroked her fine skin
until he felt goose bumps rise.

Shifting beneath him, she sighed into his mouth, encouraging him to take more.

His tongue sank deeper, became more forceful. And instead of letting him set the pace,
she answered it. Her tongue stroked along his, refused to let him dominate her.

For now, he let her, knowing soon enough he’d be totally in charge. And that she would
love it.

He stroked up her arm again, letting his knuckles brush against the curve of her breast.
She breathed a moan into his mouth and shifted until her breast pressed more fully
against the back of his hand.

Pulling back, he gazed down, seeing her taut nipple poking into the black satin.

“You have beautiful breasts.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her roll her eyes. “They’re small.”

“They’re fucking perfect. I want to rub my cock against them.”

She swallowed hard and took in a shuddering breath. “You have a dirty mouth. I never
thought I’d like that about a man. I guess it just depends on the man.”

That’s right. He was her man.

To prove it to her, he cupped one breast, molding it with his palm. She arched her
back, pressing more of herself against him.

“What do you want, Kate?”

“I want your mouth on my breast.”

“Isn’t my hand enough?”

“No. I need more. Give me more.”

He grinned as she clutched at his shoulders, demand in her voice. “I’ll give you what
you want, Kate. I’ll give you everything and more. Trust me.”

Again, that eye roll. “I trust you more than I’ve trusted any other man I’ve let in
my bed.”

He wanted to pump his fist in the air, barely restrained himself from leaning down
and biting her neck, marking her so everyone knew she was taken.

His emotions for her ranged from primal to absolute Neanderthal and he wasn’t sure
if he liked it. He only knew he wanted her to be screaming his name very soon.

Leaning close, he whispered in her ear, pitching his voice low enough that Greg couldn’t
hear. What he had to say was for her ears only. “And I never thought I’d fall this
hard for another woman in my life.”

When he drew away, the look in her eyes had softened to something very close to sweet.

And while he appreciated it, right now he wanted her to burn.

There’d be more than enough time later to tell her he loved her. When they were alone.

Tightening his hand on her breast for a few seconds, he pulled down the bodice until
he could see her nipples peeking out.

He bent to put his lips around one hard tip, pulled hard on her pebbled flesh. Sucking
her into his mouth and drawing on her until he swore he couldn’t get any more in his
mouth. Then he drew back until he could lap at her with his tongue. Her skin tasted
of heat and salt and smelled like vanilla. Sweet.

He wanted to bite so he gave into the desire, his teeth sinking into her flesh. Her
gasp didn’t hold any pain and her fingers clenched in his hair as if afraid he might
try to leave.

No way was he leaving. Not when this was exactly where he wanted to be.

Without moving his mouth, his tongue distracting them both in wicked ways, he repositioned
himself on the chaise. Now he kneeled between her thighs, her legs spread on either
side of his.

Her slip had risen up her thighs to allow her legs to part but still managed to cover
the most interesting areas.

Even so, he swore he felt the heat emanating from her core against his knees.

And he knew he smelled the scent of her arousal. It made him want to desert her breast
for other, softer parts of her body.

Soon enough.

Lowering his other hand to her neglected breast, he cupped that one, rubbing the nipple
between his thumb and forefinger. Again, she squirmed. Her back arched, grinding his
mouth even harder against her breast.

That little hint of pain made her moan and he tweaked her nipple with his fingers
until she did it again.

He would never hurt her, but he knew the threshold between pain and pleasure was a
thin one. It was all in the execution. And the level of trust.

Biting down a fraction of a second longer, he let that pain settle in before he soothed
it with his tongue.

She cried out when he released her and tried to hold his head to her breast. Looking
up at her, he saw her eyes were closed, the lids scrunched tight. Absorbing the sensations.

Okay for now. Mindlessness would come later. For both of them.

Lowering his mouth back to her body, he kissed his way across her chest, sucking on
her skin and leaving tiny marks. The bite he left on the plump curve of her other
breast showed as a bright red mark.

His.

Instead of pulling her nipple into his mouth this time, he circled it with his tongue,
flicking the tip before using his teeth on the opposite side.

Her entire body shook when he released her, her chest rising and falling and making
her breasts quiver.

Turning his head, he brushed his beard-shadowed cheek against one nipple and elicited
another moan from her.

He loved the sounds she made. They sank deep into his psyche and stroked parts of
himself he’d thought frozen into oblivion.

Lifting his head, he claimed her mouth again, whipping his tongue against hers, fucking
her with it.