Sinful Temptation (15 page)

Talia looked to Tony.

“Why not?” he said, scooting over to make room for the dog.

Talia patted the bed and Chesley leaped up, happy to be included. They rearranged themselves, with Tony in the middle, Talia in his arms and Chesley pressed against his back, so that he would be well protected from his demons in the night.

“Here you are,” Tony said, late one afternoon three weeks later, tugging his tie a little looser and rolling up the cuffs on his starched dress shirt. It was hotter than a campfire in the Sahara at the pool behind his house in the Hamptons, but well worth it for this particular view of Talia.

Her lips curled into the slow smile that always threatened to drop him to his knees, but she didn’t open her eyes. “Was I missing?” she murmured.

“Yeah. I’ve been in the city for two days. I expected you to be at the front door waiting for me. I’m starting to think you didn’t miss me.”

Her eyes flicked open, hitting him with the sparkling gray gaze that was so much more fascinating than the waves on the other side of the dunes. “Oh, I missed you.”

“I’m not convinced.”

“No?”

“No.”

Mesmerized by the sight of all that sun-kissed skin, bare except for the black triangle of the string-bikini bottoms that didn’t quite manage to cover her perfectly round ass, he sat on the edge of her chaise.

This was, he decided, the perfect ending to his long day full of meetings.

The air was clear and humidity free, the sky the bright blue of aquamarines. A light breeze blew, ruffling the clumps of yellow black-eyed Susans and potted sea grasses that framed the pool area, and a stainless-steel bucket of Corona beers with limes chilled on a side table.

Best of all, his woman was nearly naked and within arm’s reach.

Life was, in short, pretty damn good.

Talia, who’d been sunbathing on her belly, levered up on her elbows, causing the untied strings of her bikini top to fall away from the toned curve of her back. She had a beautiful back. He skimmed his fingers down her spine, enjoying the way her skin shivered and her breath caught.

Even better than her back were her breasts, not that they were in sight at the moment. Alas. He had a tantalizing glimpse of them, though, and he stared at where that deep cleavage disappeared against the cushions.

He couldn’t see the dark nipples he loved so much.

If only she’d raise herself up a little bit higher—

“How was your support group?” she asked.

As usual, he had mixed feelings about discussing his vets’ group with her. The war seemed so far away from what they were building together, and he wanted to keep it that way.

“It was good.”

“Yeah?” she said encouragingly.

“But I don’t want to talk about it with you.”

“Oh.”

“Ever.”

“Oh.”

“Is that okay?”

She gave that some consideration. “As long as I know you’re getting the support you need from them.”

Yeah, he thought. This one was a keeper.

“Between the group, my shrink and you? I think I’m pretty well covered.”

That seemed to satisfy her. “Good.”

“But you’re in the doghouse,” he reminded her. “I don’t think you missed me like you should have.”

Her face lit with amusement. “What can I do to convince you?”

He shrugged, now running his palm over her plump thighs to her butt, which he massaged with a firm stroke that made pleasure hum in her throat. Tugging gently, he untied the string nearest him.

“I’m not sure you can.”

“Oh, no.” She pouted, attracting his gaze to her talented and delicious mouth. “But I have some of your favorite beer for you. And it’s cold.”

“Eh,” he said.

Her slow grin stretched wider as she shifted a little to face him. She rested her head on one hand, and her bracelets clinked. As though she knew how she was winding him up tight, promising heaven but not handing it over, she rested her free arm across her breasts, smooshing them, but still keeping those nipples well out of sight, damn her. On the plus side, the wide curve of her hip was now visible, as was her taut belly.

He could work with that.

“Is that all you have to offer me?” he asked. “The beer?”

“What else do you want?”

He let his gaze sweep over her, all the way down her toned legs to her feet, with the silver toe ring, and then back up to her eyes again. They widened, the black pupils dilating with arousal.

“What do you think I want?” he murmured.

She stared him right in the face. “I’m hoping you want me.”

That was about the time his voice got hoarse and he began to sweat. His brain, which had mostly checked out by that point, did manage to hone in on one relevant question.

“Where’s Mickey?”

“Oh, didn’t I mention? I gave him the night off.”

“Good thinking.” He paused, savoring the way she could make all his secret nerve endings tingle to life with just a look. “So.”

“So.” Arching up a little, deepening that sexy curve in her spine and revealing just a bit more of her breasts, she bent her knees so that her feet hovered just above her ass. Her juicy, juicy ass. He swallowed hard, working on his control. “You do want me, right?”

Like a starving man wanted to grab a fork and belly up to the buffet at Golden Corral. “I don’t know,” he told her. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“If you insist.”

In a sign of her trust in him and how far they’d come together, she rolled all the way over and eased onto her back, stretching her arms high overhead. He watched as her full breasts bounced and settled into those perfect, chocolate-tipped ovals. The scar, like everything else about her, was beautiful, because it meant that the monster had been cut out of her body, leaving her here to live her life.

With him.

He stilled, his heaving lungs generating a slow sigh.

Her clear-eyed gaze saw it all, and her smile faded as she reached for him. “You’re not going to just stand there, are you?”

He managed a head shake. “No.”

His plan was to stretch out atop her, but she had other ideas. He knelt on the chaise and she rose up to meet him, her lips already parting and giving him a glimpse of her moist tongue. With the kind of low growl that probably belonged behind bars at the zoo, he dragged her up against him, filling his hands with as much of her sweet flesh as he could hold.

Their kiss was deep and urgent, and he unraveled completely.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he told her between sucks and nips. “I need you.”

“I need you, too.”

That wasn’t enough. He grabbed her upper arms, slowing her down so she’d look into his face and see how serious he was. Her eyes, half-closed and sultry, met his gaze and her swollen lips parted in surprise.

Yeah, he was feeling pretty intense right about now.

“Don’t you ever leave me,” he continued. “I can’t live without you. You know that, don’t you?”

She hesitated.

He squeezed her arms. “Don’t you?”

“Yes.
Yes.
”

Thank God. Relief made it easier for him to suck in a couple of desperately needed breaths, but then she went to work on him.

Pushing him down on his back, she unbuckled his belt and undid his pants, no easy feat given the size of his erection at this point. Her face was dark with concentration as she rearranged his boxer briefs, easing him free and fisting him in her tight grip.

“Talia,” he said, choked.

She lowered her head, taking him inside her mouth’s slick heat. He tried to say her name again, but all that came out was a half-strangled moan. She wrung him out—bobbing and sucking, making a vibrating croon in her throat that heightened all of his sensations—until he was so far gone he wouldn’t have noticed if a bagpiper in full regalia had marched out playing “Danny Boy.”

At the last possible second, sanity intruded.

He’d been gripping her head—gently, he hoped—and now he tugged a little and she looked up at him, a brow raised in question.

“Inside you,” he croaked. “I need to be inside you.”

With that woman’s gleam of satisfaction bright in her eyes—yeah, he was good and whipped, and she had to know it—she rose up, straddling him.

And fumbling as though he wore leather gardening gloves, he grabbed her ass to anchor her and eased her down onto him.

They both gasped, taking a moment to settle together. Bracing herself on her elbows so that her breasts rested against his chest, she stared down at him. He, meanwhile, stared up at her, keeping a tight grip on her hips as they began to swivel.

Before he went completely deaf, dumb and brainless, he decided that they needed to make a plan or two.

“I saw the mural when I got home.”

“The mural?” she gasped, her head tipping back.

“It’s finished. It’s fantastic.”

“Hmm,” she said, sitting up and cupping her breasts as though offering them to him.

Man. He loved it when she did that.

Okay. Time to talk faster.

“So we’ll be moving to the city next week, right? So you can work on the mural at Davies & Sons.”

With what looked like great difficulty, she cracked her eyes open and frowned down at him. “Why are you talking?” she demanded.

“I’m thinking that since Arianna and her family are staying at the penthouse for now, you and I can live at your apartment.” He paused, giving the words time to sink in. “If that works for you.”

She blinked, and then a glorious smile spread across her face as she went back to what she’d been doing, riding him hard.

“Yeah,” she said. “That works for me.”

Chapter 11

I
t was the biggest night of her professional life, Talia thought three months later, as she wove, champagne flute in hand, through the glittering, black-tie crowd. She couldn’t dislodge the hard knot of fear in her throat.

For one thing, she could hardly believe that she was here in such an opulent setting, and no one was kicking her out. Candles flickered on giant candelabras. Giant arrangements of flowers—Casablanca lilies, gardenias, hydrangeas and other exotic blooms that looked as if they cost five dollars or more per stem—graced round bowls on every horizontal surface. Uniformed servers marched back and forth with trays filled with caviar points and lobster thingies that she didn’t know the names for, but she was too frazzled to eat. The general hubbub was intensified by the sounds of a jazz combo playing somewhere nearby, and she could feel the beginnings of a tension headache tightening the back of her neck. A single thought kept running through her mind: these might be Tony’s people, but they sure weren’t hers.

Still, they all went out of their way to make her feel welcome, and that was another thing that had her so rattled.

The kudos came from every direction, so many they made her head spin.

Someone touched her arm. Turning, she saw a well-known Manhattan socialite, a woman active on the board of the Museum of Modern Art and so wealthy that she could fly to Paris to order her spring wardrobe from the couture shows or write a six-figure check for a painting without breaking stride.

The woman’s beaming smile was barely visible over the blinding glare from her diamond choker. “The mural is stunning, darling. Brilliant job. I’d love to have you around for lunch one day next week. I have a wall in my apartment I’d like you to do something about. I’m going to look at my calendar and give you a call.”

Talia worked hard on being nonchalant and getting her bulging eyes back in her head. Was this what happened when the Davies family gave you their seal of approval? Millionaires suddenly knew your name, christened you with endearments and wanted to hire you?

“That’d be wonderful,” Talia managed to say. “I’m looking forward to it.”

The woman swooped in for an air kiss that breezed by Talia’s cheek, then continued on her way.

Talia tried to catch her breath.

Maybe if she ducked into the ladies’ room for a minute—

A prickle of awareness tingled down her bare arms, and she looked across the atrium, to Tony. Catching her eye, he winked. Smiled.

He stood with his family in front of the mural, and she knew he wanted her to meet the newcomers, including his sister, Arianna, and his fraternal twin, Sandro. And she would, in a minute.

For now, she needed a minute.

It would help if Gloria were here. The party was now in full swing and there was no sign of her, which didn’t bode well, as the two of them had never missed an important night in each other’s lives.

Maybe she should text her again, Talia thought, digging in her beaded bag for her cell phone as she skirted the crowd and edged into the ladies’ room. As expected, it was a decadent minispa for women, with expensive lotions and other personal items laid out on the counter for the guests’ use. It was also empty, which gave Talia the chance to—

Oh, shit.

A woman was crying quietly in the single stall. Her sister, Gloria, to be exact. There was no mistaking the familiar sobbing
ah-ah-ah
noise she made, and Talia ought to know because she’d heard the sound often enough since Gloria had taken up with that married bastard.

Talia sent up a quick prayer for empathy and patience, but none seemed forthcoming. This was just freaking great. As if she needed this drama on top of everything else.

“Gloria.” She tapped on the stall and tried to keep her voice in the soothing range. “It’s me. What happened, girl?”

The lock slid free and the door banged open, revealing a woman just this side of distraught. She also smelled yeasty, which would probably explain the empty champagne flute on the counter by the hair spray.

Oh, man. This was bad.

Talia put a hand on her arm and squeezed in what she hoped was a supportive manner. “Glo?”

Jerking free, Gloria stalked over to the console beneath the mirror to snatch a tissue from the box, no easy feat with her questionable blood alcohol level and four-inch heels. It would take more than a few little dabs to get rid of all that tarry black mascara, but she’d probably started out looking drop-dead gorgeous. She was in black, of course, a sleeveless and backless number that accented her legs and ass, and Gloria had plenty of both. But her eyes were bloodshot and her nose red and swollen. To top it all off, she couldn’t seem to catch her breath or control her shaking shoulders.

“H-here.” She thrust her cell phone at Talia.

Talia glanced at the display, braced for the worst.

I don’t want to hurt you,
read the message from Aaron Madden.
But I want to be straight with you. Now that Jerri and I are going ahead with the divorce, I feel like I need some time to get myself together. I’m not ready to commit to anything. I think we should see other people.

A fuzzy red haze of anger made the words run together a little at the end, so Talia read the message again. That was no better. By the third pass, she’d recovered enough to pick her jaw up off the floor and ask an outraged question.

“Are you telling me,” she said, between gritted teeth, “that son of a bitch finally left his wife, but he wants the freedom to screw other women? Is that the bottom line here?”

By now, Gloria had clamped down on most of her emotions, but her eyes still had a dangerous glint in them. For the first time ever, Talia wondered what her sister was capable of at a time like this and whether it might include hurting herself or someone else—or someone’s property, like, say, a sleek Mercedes sedan.

“That’s the bottom line,” Gloria said.

“What are you going to do?” Talia asked.

She was temped to launch into a lecture, starting with
I told you so
and ending with
So you’re never going to see him again, right?
but they’d been down that road before, several times, and it never ended well for Talia. Inevitably, Gloria reconciled with Aaron and told Aaron that Talia had badmouthed him, which led to a prolonged period of estrangement between the sisters.

After being burned by this process, Talia had learned her lesson. Gloria had to come to her own conclusions about her dysfunctional romantic relationship. Even if they were wrong.

“Do?” Gloria reached for her empty champagne flute and headed for the door. “Well, for starters, I’m going to drink some more champagne. A magnum should do it, don’t you think?” Bitterness made her face hard and thinned her mouth into a sneer. “And then I’m going to see if there’s anyone interesting in the crowd tonight.”

They’d walked out of the bathroom and back into the crowded chaos of the party, but at this piece of news, Talia stopped dead and wheeled around, causing Gloria to plow into her.

“Anyone interesting?”
Talia echoed. “What the hell does that mean?”

Shrugging, Gloria pulled some lip gloss out of her clutch and applied a fresh coat. “Aaron wants me to see other people, right? I’m going to see other people. No time like the present.”

This announcement really threw Talia for a loop. Every time she thought she’d seen the outer limits of Gloria’s self-destructive behavior, Gloria whipped something new out of her hat to surprise her.

“Oh, no, you’re not.” Getting jostled by a passing guest, Talia grabbed Gloria’s arm and pulled her behind a potted palm, out of the line of traffic. “I’m not going to stand by while you do something you’ll regret tomorrow.”

“Regret?” Gloria’s brows rose. “What? You mean like wasting years of my life on a married man? That kind of regret?”

“Yeah. I’m going to put you in a taxi.”

“I don’t want to get in a taxi.” Gloria snatched another glass of champagne off the tray of a server. “I want to have some fun.”

Talia took the glass, dumped the contents into the palm tree, and handed the flute back to Gloria. “You’ve had enough fun. I’d take you home myself, but I can’t just leave—”

“Ladies,” said a new voice. “Is something wrong?”

Startled, they turned to see Cooper Davies standing there, having apparently materialized out of nowhere. Unlike the other men present, he wore a dark suit and dark shirt combo rather than a tux, not that it mattered. He looked effortlessly sophisticated, as though he’d rolled out of bed after a late-afternoon romp, swiped just enough gel through his blond curls to tame the thatch across his forehead, thrown on his clothes and come to the party. He was, Talia had already decided, sparing with his smiles, and right now was no exception. His full lips looked grim, his nose hawkish and his blue eyes stormy.

He was looking at Gloria, not Talia, and his intent gaze gave her a thorough once-over.

Since Gloria had progressed to opening a compact and powdering her nose, Talia decided to answer for her. “Gloria has, ah, decided to leave the party—”

“No, I haven’t,” Gloria interjected loudly.

“—and I’m going to throw her into a cab and send her home, so we’re all good. Thanks.”

Cooper considered this, brows lowering. “I don’t think she should go anywhere by herself.”

Yeah, Talia had already considered that issue. With her luck, the second the cab pulled away from the curb, Gloria would direct him to some club or other, where God knew what could happen next. In the mood Gloria was in right now? Hell. Talia wouldn’t put it past her to hook up with some idiot in a nightclub and elope to Vegas on the next available flight.

“I know,” Talia agreed, “but I can’t leave the party yet, and I’m not sure—”

“I can see her home,” Cooper said.

“—that I can— Wait, what?”

“I can see her home,” Cooper repeated, his gaze finally flickering to Talia’s face.

Talia hesitated. This guy was a Davies, which meant he probably wasn’t a rapist or ax murderer, but, on the other hand, they barely knew him and Gloria was clearly not in her right mind.

“Well…”

A hint of amusement made Cooper’s eyes crinkle at the edges. “She’s safe with me. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not sure you’re safe with her, frankly,” Talia muttered.

Cooper laughed, a startling event that flashed his dimples and white teeth.

Gloria, who hadn’t been listening, closed her compact with a snap. “What’s the plan? Who’s coming to the bar with me?”

“You’re not going to the bar,” Talia said flatly. “Cooper is taking you home.”

“Taking me home?” Gloria looked him up and down with significantly more interest, her eyes narrowed and speculative.

“Making sure you get home,” Cooper clarified, taking her elbow. “Ready?”

“Hang on. Thanks, Cooper. You’re a lifesaver.” Rising on her tiptoes, Talia whispered in his ear under the guise of kissing his cheek. “And if you take advantage of my sister while she’s drunk, I’m going to clip your balls, fry them up in a beer batter and serve them to you with hot sauce.
Comprende?
”

Another disarming laugh, followed by something that sounded suspiciously like a pledge. “Oh, I
comprende.
And since my balls are very important to me, you won’t have to worry about me taking advantage of Gloria. Ever.”

Strangely reassured, Talia nodded and moved aside so they could go.

Whereupon Gloria surprised her with a new show of emotion and a piece of sisterly advice as she swiped at her eyes again. “Learn from my mistakes, okay, Tally? Don’t bother counting on a man. They never come through in the end.”

These two, Tony thought, were really crazy. In a good way.

Arianna and Joshua, who apparently had zero faith in the sitter they’d hired for the night, had spent most of the evening on the phone with her, tracking Apollonia’s progress and calling with additional instructions every few minutes.

Tony sighed, watching his sister with bemusement.

She wore a pretty blue dress that matched Joshua’s bow tie and cummerbund, and had her hair all done up. Listening intently, with the cell phone pressed to her ear, she shot Joshua a worried look.

Joshua froze, his tumbler of Scotch on the rocks halfway to his lips.
“What?”

Arianna’s eyes were wide, her expression dire. “She says the baby hasn’t burped yet.”

Joshua frowned. “Well, did she put her over her shoulder or across her lap? Because the lap thing always works for me. Let me talk to her.”

Arianna put her index finger up, holding him off as she spoke into the phone again. “Did you put her across your lap?” She nodded, listening. “Well, because that always—”

“And did you ask about the poop?” Joshua interjected. “Did she poop yet? Let me talk to her.”

Oh, for God’s sake, Tony thought, rolling his eyes and trying not to laugh in their faces, which would probably be rude. These two were going to tackle each other for the phone in a minute.

There she was. About damn time.

“Hi,” Talia said, materializing out of nowhere. “What’d I miss?”