Authors: Jade Allen
****
“Sit down Ms. Jordan and let me know exactly what
you need from me,” Tyler ordered a few minutes later as he led Brooke into what
she immediately saw was his study.
His dark eyes clung to the womanly curves of her
hips. She was a heart-wrenchingly beautiful woman and seemed completely unaware
of her effect on men, himself included. Why, Roy had been unable to close his
mouth the entire time they stood in the stables, which was why he had decided
to take the meeting into his study before the other man embarrassed himself.
He himself had been tamping down his arousal ever
since she had swept into the stable like a whirlwind and plastered herself all
over him. He had felt every inch of her soft, pliant body and he had been hard
as a rock before he had so much as gotten a good look at her face.
Innocently unaware of Tyler’s scrutiny, Brooke
scanned the room, her experienced eyes immediately recognizing the perfect
finish of the imposing Henkel Harris desk gracing one end of the room with an
equally imposing chair planted behind it. Her heels sank into the thick
Aubusson rug in the middle of the room as she deliberately crossed to slouch
gratefully into the cushion beside the coffee table instead of the seat he had
indicated in front of his desk. Several paintings lined the walls and she
didn’t have to be an expert to know they were originals.
His black eyes tracked her progress, and when she
looked up deliberately into his eyes, she was surprised to see a look of
reluctant respect in his gaze.
“Mr. Harding, I have a lot of questions for you. I
hope you have ample time because this could take quite a few hours,” she added.
“I thought you were supposed to be here for two
weeks?” he asked, watching her intently, his gaze roving over her features as
he lowered himself into the seat.
Brooke mentally rolled her eyes. “Yes, but if we
can cover a lot of ground today, we’ll get rolling.”
He stared at her for a beat, then shrugged as he
leaned back in his seat.
“Now, off the record, you never grant interviews
to press of any kind. Why now? And why us?”
Tyler chuckled, the sound low and dark like
chocolate. “Are you saying
De Luxe
is not good enough?”
“I’m just saying why did you suddenly decide to
grant an interview, and for two weeks no less, after stonewalling for years?”
His hard firm lips canted to the side in a sexy
smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Try free positive publicity. Hardings’
Drilling didn’t get to the top by looking gift horses in the mouth. You, on the
other hand, apparently never heard of gift horses Ms. Jordan--"
"Brooke," she cut in.
“Brooke,” he said slowly, drawing her name out and
rolling it around on his tongue.
She tamped down on an inexplicable wave of heat
and excitement that surged through her as he said her name. Suddenly nervous,
Brooke’s tongue darted out to lick her lower lip and then her breath hitched in
reaction as his eyes followed the tiny movement, rose to meet her own gaze, and
then darkened with heat.
They both jerked their gazes away guiltily at the
same time.
Silence reigned, thick and pregnant, and then
Brooke deliberately steered them back to safer ground with a crisp, “Let’s talk
about your family.”
“My family?”
Was it her imagination, or did he seem suddenly
tense and guarded? Hostility was suddenly coming off him in waves.
“Yeah, remember them? Reclusive, beautiful, rich
as sin and about as accessible as the moon? The Oil Hardings?”
His lips canted in that half-grin again, but this
time, the smile reached his eyes. “The Oil Hardings? Is that what you’re
calling us now?”
Brooke shrugged, helpless against the charm of his
smile as she returned his grin, “The Hardings are into everything from oil to
race horses, to real estate; you name it. But you’re the most visible member of
the family; not to mention you’re the family businessman. Your mother is the
most reclusive of all, your twin sisters seem to be all about school and your
brother seems to enjoy fast cars, fast women and designer clothes.”
His grin died, “Yeah, I know. It’s my family, remember?”
Something in the way he said it niggled at the
edge of her consciousness and Brook’s reporter’s instincts went on red alert.
There was a story there, as surely as she knew her own name.
“So anything you want to tell me?” she asked,
leaning forward and deliberately softening her features to invite confidence.
She had always had a flair for getting people to relax around her and confide
in her. It was one of the things that made her such a success as a reporter.
“Like what? My shoe size? You seem to know so much
already, so why bother with the interview?”
A vein ticked dangerously in his forehead warning
her that he was good and pissed.
“Did I say something wrong? We just want to
understand you better; to see what makes you tick. We want the different facets
of the man: your personality, your family life, business ideals, strategies,
vacation ideas. Come on, it’s for our “Twenty Rich and Famous Bachelors of
2015” article. Not to mention, we cap it off with an event where all bachelors
are auctioned off for two hours of their time with the highest bidder and all
proceeds go to charity.”
His lips softened perceptibly, “You seem very
passionate about this. Don’t tell me this was your brain-child...”
Brooke shrugged, “In 2012, it came to me that we
had over half the world’s population living in poverty. It was a mere proposal;
management ate it up and here we are. We’ve already had three successful events
the last three years.”
He sighed, “When you put it like that, fine. But
we won’t be here for the two weeks. It’s my grandmother’s ninetieth birthday
and we are all heading to Montana to celebrate. You have to come with us.”
Sheer panic floated through Brooke. She was
originally from Montana and she was one of those people who literally couldn’t
go home again. She had left Montana at the ripe old age of sixteen when she had
run away from home and vowed never to return. Fear rose to choke her throat as
she hurriedly rose to her feet before she could check the movement.
“Perhaps we could take a rain-check? Two weeks is
not such a long time. I can return
here
for the interview when you guys
are done with the celebrations,” she offered with deliberate emphasis on
‘here’, her eyes wide and innocent.
He wasn’t buying any bullshit though. She had
never seen anyone look more coldly displeased than Tyler did in that moment as
he regarded her steadily out of uncomfortably blank eyes.
“Ms. Jordan, I assure you, contrary to what you
seem to think, I am a very busy man. I will not be sitting here wringing my
hands and waiting for you to get around to conducting an interview guaranteed
to help
your
business. Besides, I have a trip to Africa for three months
right after the birthday party. So you can either come along, or get out right
now.”
Brooke glared at him. She didn’t much care for his
tone and she had a good mind to tell him so right before she slammed out of his
life. But she just knew that if she dared that, she would have a pink slip
waiting for her on her desk by the time she got back to New York. Besides, Tyler
Harding was so powerful she was willing to bet her pay-check that he could
guarantee she wouldn’t get a job in the States again if she angered him enough.
Everything in her revolted at the thought of
Montana and the deep, dirty secrets buried there, but everything in her
revolted even more at the thought of moving to a studio apartment and starting
the job-hunt all over again. With a sigh, she slumped back into the seat and
said with a marked lack of enthusiasm, “That settles it then. I’m all yours for
the next two weeks.”
His answering grin was pure evil.
****
Montana in May was a sight to behold, Brooke
decided as the four-wheel drive roared down the road towards yet another
Harding estate. Everywhere was either wet or white with flecks of melting snow.
The landscape was just as beautiful as she remembered with beautiful
white-capped mountains rising proudly to kiss the skies. Roiling fields of
greenery disappeared into deep valleys on either side of the winding road
making the passing landscape breath-taking and absolutely beautiful.
She stole a glance at her companion from beneath
her lashes and was pleased to note that he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away
from the landscape either. As though sensing her scrutiny, he turned his head
and held her gaze with his. Unbidden, a flicker of awareness skittered down her
spine and Brooke unconsciously licked her lips as she tried to hold back a
surprised gasp. It had been like this since she arrived yesterday and the
attraction which she had chalked up to a temporary aberration hadn't eased; if
anything, it had heightened. Her stomach had been all aflutter with butterflies
since yesterday and she was quickly losing patience with herself. What was
wrong with her, she wondered churlishly. No man had ever affected her like
this; one glance and she could barely keep her nipples from beading into hard
points beneath her blouse. His eyes dipped to her red lips and she saw him
swallow even as his gaze darkened perceptibly.
Desire sizzled, hot and potent in the air and every
nerve-ending in Brooke’s body went on high alert. His eyes locked with hers,
drawing her in inexorably and making her lose all sense of time and place as
though hypnotized.
Without being aware of moving, Brooke was in his
arms. Urgency ripped through her as Tyler immediately lowered his head to hers,
his hard lips slanting across hers, seeking, searching. Brooke leaned back in
his arms and opened her mouth to apologize but Tyler didn’t give her a chance;
his tongue delved into her mouth and he grabbed her close to him as he deepened
the kiss.
His hands tightened about her, as his large,
slightly callused palm drifted boldly to her chest and cupped one firm round
breast. All the breath whooshed out of her in startled surprise and Tyler
immediately released her.
“I’m sorry,” he said gruffly. “Sometimes I move
from zero to one hundred in a nanosecond.”
“Um...it’s alright,” she assured him, moving back
to her side of the seat in the limo.
Gawd that was some kiss! How did he manage to get
her so hot and bothered in less than a few seconds? She felt a red flush steal
up her neck as her eyes stole a look at his large, masculine hands.
Even now, she could feel wetness pooling between
her thighs just remembering how those large palms had tenderly cupped her breast.
Brooke forced herself to look away, turning her
gaze once more to the passing landscape; she had never been this unprofessional
in her entire life before. What would Collins have to say about that? She could
just picture his frown of displeasure coupled with a smug grin as he whipped
out a pink slip. The man seemed to have one about him all the time.
Anger coursed through her as she remembered her
boss and deliberately, she looked at her watch, “Are we there yet?”
He chuckled, “Almost, Dorothy.”
She grinned back, relaxing as she leaned back
against the soft, plush leather seat of the limo. She could get used to this
kind of luxury, she thought, wriggling her behind and settling it deeper into
the soft-as-butter leather.
Tyler grinned anew as he watched her obvious and
unpretentious enjoyment of the luxurious interior.
“First time?”
“What gave it away?” she purred unconcerned,
shutting her eyes as she caressed the soft leather with her hands.
Too soon, the limo drew to a smart stop in front
of the mansion and the chauffeur opened the door.
Tyler dimpled at her, “Time to meet the welcome
wagon.”
Since there was no ‘welcome wagon’ at the front
door, Brooke looked at him askance.
“Oh my mother would never stoop to leave her
exalted position in the drawing room where she holds court,” he said bitingly.
“We go to
her
.”
It occurred to Brooke that this was no way to
speak of one’s mother. But she said nothing.
Tyler led the way down a long corridor lined with
stern unsmiling pictures of a long line of Harding ancestors and then they
entered what had to be the drawing room. A woman dressed in a gown fit for a
princess in the Victorian ages was sitting ramrod straight in one chair facing
the doorway as she tried valiantly to look as though she wasn’t expecting anyone.
The scene both amused and touched Brooke. Why would she feel the need to
pretend about being glad to see her son come home? Wasn’t it natural for a
mother to be excited by her son's return?
“Mother,” Tyler murmured as he leaned down to
press a brief kiss onto her cheek.
The woman’s eyes shone like twin jewels as she
smiled at her son, then her face went back to its glacial formality when she
focused on Brooke.
“The reporter,” she murmured, managing to put
enough inflection in the words to make Brooke feel like she just crawled out
from beneath a stone. “Welcome, my dear. Show her to her room, Tyler,” she
added dismissively.
Tyler turned to wink at Brooke and she understood
that they had just been dismissed.
“Who built this...mansion?”
He shrugged, “My grandfather, about twelve
generations back.”
Her eyes took in the modern decorations, the plush
surroundings; she shook her head, “No, this is way too modern.”
“Okay, so I renovated and redecorated a bit three
years ago,” he conceded.
Brooke stared at the back of his head. There were
just too many undercurrents with the Hardings. What on earth was going on?
She opened her mouth to ask yet another question
but he forestalled her with his announcement, “This is where we'll put you: the
cream room."
He swept the door open to reveal a bedroom that
looked as though it was straight out of a magazine. The theme was cream
alright, from the bedcovers to the curtains to just about every visible surface
was cream and gold. The room was breath-taking!
Brooke was so enthralled, she spun around in a
circle taking it all in.
Tyler’s jaw tightened as he watched her. He had
been right to pick this room for her; with her pale coloring, the room
accentuated her features, made her appear almost ethereal and so damn sexy he
could actually feel his blood roaring through his veins in reaction.
His hands tightened into fists at his side as he
strove for control. He walked towards the windows to pull the curtains to the
side and then turned back around to beat a hasty retreat from the room; he
almost mowed Brooke down. She was standing right behind him. It was a measure
of how distracted he was that he hadn’t heard her come up behind him.
Brooke grinned up at him saucily, “The view is to
die for. I think I can understand why your mother never wants to leave here.”
His gaze went unerringly to her soft red, lips.
Yeah the view
was
to die for.
Without a second thought, he lowered his head to
hers and urgently took her lips in a hard, passionate kiss. Kissing her felt
like coming home, he thought dimly as his hands wrapped around her soft waist
and pulled her flush against him.
Brooke gasped as his lips melded with hers, but
instead of pushing him away, her traitorous hands wrapped about his neck. Her
fingers hesitantly delved into the thick black hair at his nape and he groaned
as he kissed her. Brooke stroked her hand down the thick column of his neck and
then his hard, wide chest. He was pure male and absolutely delicious; she would
never be able to get enough of him, she mused.
As though reading her thoughts, Tyler murmured
against her lips, “I just can’t get enough of you. This is crazy; I've never
felt like this.”
Before she could respond, his tongue plunged
deeper into her mouth, engaging hers in an intimate dance that made every last
one of her toes curl in pleasure.
His hands cupped her breast through the sheer
material of her blouse, and in mere seconds, he had tumbled them both onto the
bed, shoving her blouse up to reveal her lace bra. Brooke moaned and arched her
back, almost falling off the bed as Tyler’s lips closed over one taut, erect
nipple. He gently nipped at her breast through the thin material of her bra,
his hands caressing every inch of silky skin he could touch. Electricity bolted
through her nerve endings as he kissed her and Brooke went wild in his arms,
clutching and twisting and caressing right back.
“I want you,” Tyler murmured, his dark eyes boring
into hers.
Staring up at him, Brooke understood immediately
that he was asking permission to go further.
Without giving herself time to think about it, she
reached up and pulled him back down, effectively giving him her answer.
His kisses were scorching as he trailed his lips
down her chest and then her stomach. His hands slipped down, caressing her soft
thighs under her skirt.
“Please,” Brooke sighed, not even knowing what she
was begging for.
Tyler was not proof against that soft, breathless,
whisper. He bent his dark head to the juncture of her thighs and tenderly
opened his lips over the soft folds of her wet, willing pussy.
Brooke’s eyes shot open in alarm; this was moving
way too fast for her!
"Tyler—”
she
began.
“Hush. Let me take care of you. I’ve wanted to do
this since the first time you jumped clear across the stable and into my arms.
Don’t make me stop now, baby,” he murmured as he slowly laved his tongue
through her pussy.
His tongue was softly probing and gently exploring
as he licked her pussy, sending spasms of pleasure coursing through her body.
Brooke cried out helplessly, her hands pressing to his head as he licked her
hot and slow.
A vibrating sensation near her thigh jerked Brooke
back to reality and she looked up in confusion, her green gaze clashing with
Tyler’s dark eyes.
“My phone,” he growled, apparently intent on
ignoring it.
But the ringing sound had been about as effective
as a dash of cold water in her face and desire fled as though it had never
been. This was crazy. What was she doing? And with an interview subject?
Hastily, she shoved at his shoulders, “Stop! Stop!
Stop!”
He raised his head, staring up at her blearily.
“You want me to stop?”
“Just stop! And get out! Get out!”
To his credit, Tyler immediately lifted away from
her and then without another word, he quietly left the room, leaving Brooke
with a frown between her eyes.