Seduction on the CEO's Terms (9 page)

Joe turned to her. Shaking his head, his voice soft but commanding. “You're not going anywhere. I'll have your bags sent to my room. I want you here with me.”

It was music to her ears.

“Don't you want that, too?” He draped his arm around her shoulder. She snuggled closer.

“Yes, of course I do.”

“Look,” he began, “I don't know where this is going, but I do know I don't want to waste a minute of this weekend without you. It's been a long time since—”

She lifted her head up to peer at him. “Since?”

“Since I've let myself get involved with anyone.”

“Why?” Ali asked, though she suspected she knew the truth.

“Because I was engaged once, and to say it didn't work out would be an understatement.”

“Tell me, Joe. What happened?”

Joe looked deep into her eyes with reluctance and regret. Through pain and anger, he admitted, “She wasn't the woman I thought she was.”

Ali's heart plummeted. She was filled with dread and self-loathing at her own deception.

“I really loved her, or I thought I did at the time. A man has to think he's in love to offer marriage. It's only logical, right?”

“Right,” Ali agreed, her pulse pounding.

“Ali, she worked for me before you came to Global.”

He looked at her with guilt as if he'd done something unimaginable, while she was the true guilty one who was playing a dangerous game. “Go on.”

“I should have never let it happen. She was a flashy woman, and I knew she was high maintenance when I got involved with her. I should have known better. She wanted me to change. To be someone I'm not. She thought after we got engaged that she'd be able to make me into someone more like Nick, for lack of a better example.

“The truth is, she wanted someone who liked to play at life, someone who tossed his money and power around to
climb some sort of social ladder. Well, you know, I'm the green guy in the family. That's just not my thing. When she figured out that it wasn't going to happen, she found someone else. She left me for a wealthier, more powerful man.”

“She broke your heart.”

“I'm over it now. Have been for a long time.”

“Oh, Joe, I'm deeply sorry.” Ali meant it. She hated that Joe's heart had been broken, but at the same time she prayed that she wasn't going to do the same thing to him. Her deception haunted her, and she hated the weakness in her that caused her to lie to the man she adored, over and over again.

“I hope not too sorry?” He grinned and caressed her arms until she could barely think coherently.

“What do you mean?”

“You wouldn't be here with me if—”

“Oh.” Then she smiled, too. “Yeah, I'm not
that
sorry.”

Joe kissed her into oblivion, and she forgot all about her deception, his ex-fiancé and his heartbreak.

O
n Sunday morning, Joe took Ali to Chinatown, and as they strolled along the streets hand in hand, window-shopping, Joe found pleasure in buying Ali trinkets that sparked her interest. He held a shopping bag full of hand fans, embroidered handkerchiefs and little China dolls. He'd noticed Ali admiring a jade necklace, the delicate round disk an image of a Chinese garden, and he'd gone back to the store to purchase it.

“Oh, Joe,” she said, with surprise in her voice. “I didn't expect you to—”

“I know, Ali. But I saw how much you liked it. I wanted you to have it.”

Tears filled her eyes. “Thank you.” She held the necklace to her chest. “I'll cherish it forever.”

Joe took her hand, touched by her genuine appreciation, and they continued to stroll along. He spotted a shop selling
hand-painted tea sets and tugged her along. “You have to have one,” he said.

Ali shook her head. “No, Joe.” She stopped on the street. “You've already given me too much.”

Joe turned to her and cocked his head to one side. “Not as much as you've given me, honey.”

And Joe realized the truth of that statement. He couldn't remember a time when he'd been so content. Ali had restored his faith in the opposite sex. He trusted her. They were compatible on every level. She was a decent, hardworking woman who didn't have an agenda where he was concerned.

“What have I given you?” she asked, puzzled.

Joe grinned. “A real good reason to get up and go to work every morning.”

Ali let go a little gasp of surprise. “Joe.”

“It's true. Now, c'mon. I want to show you the Golden Gate Bridge before lunch.”

When they returned to the hotel room after lunch, Joe closed the door behind him and took Ali in his arms from behind. He pressed his body to hers and relished how right it felt to be near her. He kissed the back of her neck. “It was a good weekend.” Then a chuckle escaped. “I dreaded coming here. I hate these things. But it turned out almost perfect.”

Ali questioned him with a look. “
Almost
perfect?”

Joe nibbled on her neck some more. “You never invited me into your shower,” he murmured.

Ali turned around in his arms and gazed deep into his eyes. “You don't need an invitation.”

Joe raised his eyebrows. “I don't? Well then, I think you need a shower, Ali. You really worked up a sweat this morning.” He sniffed the air around her playfully. “Yes, definitely. Oh, man, you really need to get clean.”

Ali turned away from him and headed straight into the bedroom, kicking off her shoes and shedding clothes as she went.

Joe swallowed hard, watching her strip out of her clothes quietly. When she reached the master bathroom, he heard the shower door open then close and water rain down. He wasted no time yanking off his clothes and following her.

He joined her in the shower seconds later, and the sight of her, her hair wet and straight, hanging past her shoulders, her eyes brilliantly green and her body glistening with moisture, stole all of Joe's breath. “I wish we'd thought of this sooner. You're beautiful,” he said. “Need some help?”

Ali handed him the bar of fragranced soap. Joe made a thick lather in his hands and stepped behind Ali. Winding his arms around her, he pressed the lather gently to her arched throat, then down along her shoulders, stroking her softly as his body became rock hard. Next, he slid his hands lower, soaping up under her arms and sliding his hands just under her ribs. Her intake of breath amplified his desire. He cupped her breasts, filling his hands with her weight, lathering her in circular motions, giving each perfect globe his undivided attention.

Ali moaned softly as he caressed her. She arched toward him, her body fitting his frame. His lust became almost tangible, his erection straining against her.

Joe spent a good deal of time massaging Ali, teasing and tormenting her breasts until she squirmed under his ministrations and huffed out deep breaths.

Joe was in no better shape. He was ready for more. He slid his hands lower, soaping her navel and just below. Steam built up in the shower, but nothing clouded Joe's
vision of Ali, in his arms, bending to his will, allowing him the freedom to bring them both immense pleasure.

Joe cupped her between her legs, and she parted them, her moans of ecstasy mingling with his whispered demands. “Let go, baby. Let it happen.”

He stroked her over and over, her body gyrating with his, his finger finding her core and breaching it. Beating rapidly, she moved with him, but Ali held back. He felt her control tight and sure.

Joe wanted to see her release, to see her relinquish that control and let go.

When she called his name like a plea, Joe's control snapped. There was only so much he could endure before realizing his own satisfaction. And Ali had him at his limit.

Joe moved against the thick shower glass and grabbed Ali's hips, sliding a hand along her back, bending her slightly. He leaned over her and cupped her breasts, then entered her soft folds from behind. She accommodated his body and both made quick adjustments to this new position. Then Joe drove a little deeper, holding Ali tight, their bodies joined in an erotic stance that heightened his pleasure even more.

He thrust slowly, deliberately, and Ali's body moved with him in a sensual rhythm. He slid his hand down to torment her most sensitive spot, his fingers urging her to completion as his thrusts grew more rapid, more demanding.

Joe kissed her shoulders, murmured loving words and moved with quicker strokes now, his body at its brink.

“Joe, now. Now,” she rasped.

The soft flesh of her buttocks against his groin driving him crazy, he gripped her hips and pulled her against him. He drove deeper into her and split them both in two. Her release matching his, they moved in sync, Joe enjoying
every movement, every gyration, until both were spent and fully sated.

They stayed in that erotic position until they caught their breath, then Joe whipped Ali around in his arms. When she wouldn't look into his eyes, he tipped her chin up and kissed her, wondering about her sudden shyness. She puzzled him in many ways, but all that was forgotten when she finally looked at him. Her gorgeous green eyes appeared soft and vulnerable, and a sudden flash jolted him. He was smart enough to realize that what he had with Ali wasn't just about sex.

He cared for her.

Deeply.

And he knew he was in trouble.

 

Joe left a sizable tip for housekeeping in his suite and then tipped the bellboy with a twenty after he'd brought their bags down to the lobby of the hotel. With Ali by his side, he'd never felt more content, and the staff was reaping the benefits of his good mood. The truth was that he hated to see the weekend come to a close.

As they waited for the valet to bring his car around to the front of the hotel, a familiar voice called to him.

“Joe! Joe, is that you?”

Joe turned around, and his good mood vanished when Sheila Maxwell, his ex-fiancée, strode up, her blond waves bouncing off her shoulders. She walked like a fashion model, her clothes Beverly Hills classy, white on white, and no one could miss the diamonds dripping from her ears and throat.

“Hello, Sheila.”

Sheila walked up to him and kissed him on the cheek. “It's good to see you, Joe.” She glanced at Ali with assessing eyes before turning back to him.

“This is Ali Pendrake.” Joe felt obligated to introduce the women. “Ali, this is Sheila Maxwell.”

“Sheila Desmond now,” she corrected. “It's nice to meet you, Ali. What are you both doing here? Are you vacationing like I am?”

Ali hesitated, looking to Joe before answering. “No, we're here on business. There's a convention in town.”

“Oh, right, the Annual Grapegrowers Convention. I'd heard it was at this hotel. Sorry, I didn't put two and two together. So, you work with Joe in Napa?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Ali works for Carlino Wines, and we're lucky to have her,” Joe added.

Sheila pursed her lips briefly, looking intently at Ali before focusing her attention back to him. Genuine sympathy softened her eyes, “I'm sorry about your father, Joe. I sent you a note of condolence. Did you ever get it?”

Bumping into Sheila after all this time confirmed Joe's suspicions that he was one hundred percent over her. He decided to put the past behind him. “Yes, I did. Thank you for that.”

“So now, you're settled in Napa?”

“For the time being, I am. My brothers and I are running Carlino Wines now.” He didn't give her an in-depth explanation. At one time, he'd shared everything with her.

The valet approached Joe, signaling to him. “Well, looks like my car is ready. It was nice talking to you.”

“Uh, Joe. If I could have a minute of your time?” She searched his eyes, and he couldn't fathom what she wanted to say to him.

He pushed his glasses farther up his nose. “We really have to get going.”

“It'll just take a minute. Would you excuse us, Ali?”

“No,” Joe said immediately, glancing at Ali. “You don't have to—”

Ali put her hand on his arm briefly, a gesture Sheila didn't miss. “It's okay, Joe.” She reassured him with a smile. “I'll wait in the car.”

Joe furrowed his brows and watched her walk off. Then he turned his attention to his ex-fiancée, his annoyance barely hidden. He exhaled and waited. “She's pretty.”

“You didn't ask for privacy to tell me how pretty my assistant is.”

“Is that all she is to you? Your assistant?”

“That's none of your business, is it?”

Sheila picked up on his brisk tone. “Listen, Joe, I'm not trying to cause any trouble for you. But as soon as I recognized her—”

“Who, Ali?” Puzzled, Joe frowned. “You know her?”

“Not personally, no. But I know the name, and I've met her mother, Justine. She's known in social circles as the beauty queen, and Ali is the spitting image of her.”

Joe jammed his hands in his pockets. “Is there a point to all this?”

“I'm trying to warn you, Joe. Look, I don't want to dredge up past history or anything, but I know I hurt you. I'm deeply sorry about that.”

Again, Sheila seemed contrite, which in itself, baffled him. “It's over and done with, Sheila.”

“My point is that I don't want you to get hurt again. Ali's mother has dumped more men than a dog's got fleas. Did you know she's on husband number five?”

Joe didn't know that. In fact, every time he tried to ask Ali about her family and her childhood, she evaded the
question. He'd figured she didn't like to talk too much about herself.

He remained passive, yet his curiosity was piqued.

“Not to mention how many boyfriends she's had in between her marriages. Each time she married, it was to a wealthier, more powerful man. She's married to Harold Holcomb now. His brother is a senator,” Sheila added.

“I know that.”

“Okay, just so you know. Justine Holcomb is a social climber. Some have been bold enough to call her a gold digger. Consider yourself warned. You know what they say—the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.”

Joe almost laughed. If he wanted to use a cliché, something Sheila was famous for, he'd say her comment was like the pot calling the kettle black. “I've never met Ali's mother, and I'm not going to judge her behavior. But if you're insinuating that Ali Pendrake is going to hurt me, then I'd say you're wrong.”

“Okay, Joe,” Sheila said on a sigh. “I get it. I'm sorry for intruding. But just remember what I told you. Be careful.”

“I'm always careful now. You taught me that.”

Sheila blinked.

“Sorry,” he said immediately. He'd never been one to retaliate, and oddly enough, he really believed that Sheila had no ill intentions toward him. She was way off base about Ali, though. He surmised that Sheila felt compelled to warn him, out of guilt.

She shook her head amiably. “No, it's probably the truth. I can't fault you for that. But I truly never intended to hurt you, Joe. And if it's any consolation, I'm happy. I'd like to see you happy, too.”

“Don't worry about me. Look, I've got to run, Sheila.”

“It was nice seeing you, Joe. Take care.”

“Same to you,” he said, backing away and turning toward the hotel doors. As much as he hated to admit it, Sheila had given him a good deal to think about on the ride back to Napa.

 

Ali should have been on cloud nine as they drove home from San Francisco. As far as weekends went, she'd never had a better one. The only flaw in her perfect adventure happened at the end of the day, as they were leaving the hotel. What were the chances that they'd come face-to-face with Joe's ex? Yet, there she'd been, holding his attention, looking beautiful.

Sheila had flair. She wore expensive clothes, had perfect hair and makeup and held herself with self-assurance. The twinge of jealousy that Ali felt when Joe introduced them couldn't be helped. Joe had been in love with her once. He'd wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. But it was more than that.

Sheila reminded her of someone. She seemed so familiar. And when it dawned on her, Ali bit down on her lower lip, squeezing her eyes shut. A sense of dread coursed through her system.

She's you, Ali. The Real Ali. The one Joe Carlino had refused to notice.

He'd wanted no part of someone who reminded him of the woman who'd broken his heart. Though Rena had spoken of it, Ali hadn't been quite sure, until she'd seen the woman for herself. It wasn't only that Joe shied away from office romances but it was because Ali had seemed too much like Sheila for him to give her a chance.

Ali snapped her eyes open and glanced at Joe. He was driving his hybrid car down the highway, deep in thought.