What he was looking for was buried close to the back. A single piece of paper was stapled to a picture of the painting. That was it. A bill of sale, with nothing more.
Completely unhelpful. He honestly wasn’t sure what he’d hoped to find. He believed Elle’s story, but he had enough experience with the legal system to know that her lawyer was right—no court would award her the painting, since she couldn’t prove it was hers. Simon’s paperwork might be flimsy, but it would hold up against nothing.
He could always ask his friend to give Elle the painting. Hell, Simon would probably do it without blinking an eye. But Zane wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Was it wrong? Was it right? Could he ask his friend to give up a painting worth thousands of dollars just so that he could see the smile on Elle’s face?
For the first time in a long time, Zane faced a decision that wasn’t black-and-white. Dread tightened his stomach for a moment. The last time he’d had to make a tough decision, he’d made the wrong one, and Felicity had paid the price.
But this wasn’t life and death. It was just a painting, one that meant so much to Elle but probably nothing at all to Simon. He’d talk to his friend—ask him to consider selling the painting to Elle. Or giving it to her. Or whatever Simon felt was right. He’d do it tomorrow when Simon returned—he’d probably already left, or was getting ready to leave, and wouldn’t be very receptive.
In the meantime, Zane had the overwhelming urge to see Elle, to hold her and touch her. The vision of her sitting on her bed, a tear rolling down her face, made his chest tighten all over again. He wouldn’t mention his plan to her, not until he’d talked to Simon. He had no idea what his boss would do and the last thing he wanted was to get Elle’s hopes up, only to see them dashed again.
12
ELLE HAD TIME TO KILL, SO she decided to jump in the shower and stay there until her fingers were pruny. She washed her hair, conditioned it twice and took her time spreading the coconut-and-floral body wash the resort had supplied over her skin.
She closed her eyes, tipped her head back and let the hot water stream over her face and body.
You’d think in a tropical location she’d have preferred a dip in the pool, but she really didn’t. The heat and cloud of moisture seemed to insulate her as nothing else could.
Which was probably why she didn’t realize Zane was there until his hand reached through the fog and pulled open the glass door. Steam swirled out as a chill leaked in.
Elle jerked around in the spray, sending rivulets of water cascading onto the stone floor. Her breath backed up into her lungs. A yearning so deep it made her ache took up residence inside her chest. It made her angry, this vulnerability that she didn’t ask for and that she knew was going to come back to bite her in the ass.
Instead of reaching for him as she wanted to, she flung up defensive words. “How’d you get in here?”
A key, no doubt an exact copy of hers, dangled from his outstretched fingers. Without thinking, Elle snatched it and flung it into the corner, hoping it might land in the toilet. No such luck.
“Isn’t that an abuse of power? I didn’t say you could come in.”
But, God, she wanted him here. She shouldn’t. He’d walked out on her just hours before, leaving her broken and alone.
His eyes raked down her body and a warm buzz washed through her. After the way he’d left, she’d been so afraid she’d never get to touch him again. Relief mixed with a bone-crushing desire that made her grip the edge of the glass door for support.
“Hotel personnel have the right to enter any room we need to. It’s part of the fine print you signed when you checked in.”
“That’s…underhanded, Officer Edwards.”
“That’s business, Ms. Monroe.”
“Why are you here?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I lied to you.”
“And were planning on stealing a painting in my care.”
Her lips twisted into a grimace.
“But you didn’t.”
“No.”
He reached for her, clearly not caring that water rolled down his outstretched arm to soak the cuff of his sleeve. His fingers ghosted across her skin, flicking one of her already puckered nipples.
She’d laid all of her cards on the table, opened herself up to him and told him the truth. And he was still here.
He’d come back and, right now, she wasn’t willing to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Elle wrapped her hand into the material covering his chest and tried to use the handle to pull him into the steamy shower stall.
“I’m dressed and you’re wet. Why don’t you come out here?”
“You have exactly thirty seconds to lose whatever you don’t want ruined before I use some tricks my father taught me and have you on your knees in front of me.”
“You really think you could take me?” Zane, apparently reading that she was dead serious, began hopping on one foot and then the other as he shed his shoes, socks, pants and shirt. She thought maybe, just maybe, he’d broken some sort of record considering he had at least fifteen seconds to spare.
“I think I could enjoy trying.” She grinned at him, impish and excited.
“Something we both agree on.”
Indrawn breath hissed through his teeth as Zane stepped into the shower. “Holy hell, that’s hot.”
Elle shrugged. “I like a little punishment with my pleasure.”
“Either that, or the pain receptacles in your skin no longer work.”
“That, too.”
The heat didn’t stop Zane for long. His arms snaked around her body, pulling her tight against him even as he backed her against the cold glass surrounding the shower. The sharp contrast sent a shiver through her body.
She would have thought that after her long minutes beneath the spray, her skin would have become desensitized to heat. She’d have been wrong. Wherever he touched her, she burned. The scalding water was nothing compared to the heat of him.
His mouth latched on to her body—her neck, her shoulder, her lips and puckered breasts. He was frantic. And she loved it. Loved knowing that she could push him to that extreme with little effort. If she hadn’t been so frenzied herself, she might have stopped long enough to wonder what had put him in the state. It was…unexpected.
His hands scoured her body, tweaking, rubbing, massaging and teasing. Her knees sagged beneath her, her fight to hold herself up against his onslaught lost when it’d barely begun.
Zane didn’t wait for her to cling to him for support. Instead, he reached down, grasped one thigh and wrapped it high above his hip. Holding the other, he filled his palm with the globes of her rear and boosted her up until she had no choice but to wrap her other leg around him and hang on to him for dear life.
Although, she wasn’t complaining.
Her back scraped over the glass. Her skin, sticky with moisture, squeaked against the cool panes.
His long, hard erection jutted between them. As his mouth was occupied lapping up the droplets of water that clung to her neck, Elle wiggled her hips in the hope of joining their bodies and ending the pressure building between her thighs.
He wouldn’t cooperate.
She grasped him, positioning the head of his penis at her weeping entrance, but he refused to thrust inside. Instead, he used the pressure of his body against hers to pin her hips where he wanted them and to hold her still. He imprisoned her hand between them, still wrapped tightly around his erection. She could feel the blood as it flowed through his veins, could count the escalating pulse of his increasing desire.
The tiny thrusts that Zane did allow did nothing more than brush the head of his cock across her already-swollen flesh. Several times, he slipped inside, pulling a gasp from her before she realized he’d go no farther than an inch.
And she wanted so much more. Knew he could give her so much more.
She whined, a sound she hadn’t made since she was a child. One she wasn’t exactly proud of making now. But if it got her what she so desperately wanted, it would be worth it.
“Zane,” she begged as he ravaged her body and pulled responses from her she’d never experienced. Never known existed.
Lifting his head, he looked deep into her eyes and then reached for the condom he must have thrown onto the shower shelf before he’d gotten in. She was thankful he’d thought of it, because she surely hadn’t.
Her head fell back against the glass and her hips seized forward when he finally gave her what she wanted. The first thrust was amazing. How could she become so addicted to the sensation of him in such a short space of time?
And there was no question, she was addicted. She needed him, wanted him, with every breath she took.
What would happen when he was gone? Would she survive the withdrawal?
Her brain fogged and her eyes glazed over. She knew they were still open, because they were focused on Zane. On his beautiful, dangerous, absorbed face. But the image was hazy, without borders.
Wedged between him and the solid surface at her back, Elle rocked her hips in time to Zane’s thrusts, trying to pull every speck of delicious tension from their connection. He stroked deep inside her. Her body bowed against the building pressure until she finally exploded.
She shuddered. Her eyes slid shut and her mouth gaped open on a silent cry.
It wasn’t long before he joined her. His groan of satisfaction ruffled the hair at her temple. He wrapped himself around her and held on tight. Elle understood his need to find an anchor in the storm of passion swamping them both.
She wasn’t sure how long they stayed that way, melding into each other. Reality slowly set in. Ice-cold droplets pinged her face and a shiver that had nothing to do with residual pleasure snaked down her spine.
“How can you stand that?” If she was getting sprayed by cold water, he must be getting pounded.
Unwrapping her fingers from the stranglehold they’d had on his shoulders, she ran her hands down his back. His skin was freezing.
Picking his head up from where it had landed, he looked blearily into her eyes and asked, “Stand what?”
Airy laughter burst through her and she pushed against him. Reaching behind them both, she flipped the water off. Being free of his weight should have been a relief. It wasn’t. She wanted to wrap her limbs back around him and never let go.
But that wasn’t going to happen.
Opening the door, she grabbed a waiting towel and enveloped herself in its warmth.
“Wanna share?” Zane walked up behind her, his large hands reaching for the seam of her plush wrap.
Elle swatted at him. “Get your own.” And walked into the bedroom. She’d laid some clothes out across the bed before she’d gotten into the shower. They were a glaring reminder that she had somewhere else to be tonight.
Somewhere she had to go alone.
She glanced over her shoulder as Zane walked out of the bathroom behind her, carrying a towel. The last remnants of steam escaped around his head. He was naked. Her mouth went dry at the sight of his muscular body. She wondered if the view would ever get old. Not that she’d be around long enough to find out. Droplets of water clung to the dark hair that sprawled across his chest. She felt a resurgence of desire sweep through her body.
Sex with Zane Edwards was like a drug she couldn’t get enough of.
Elle bit down hard on her tongue to keep herself from saying something stupid.
When he finished drying off, his hair was standing straight on end, more wet than dry. He methodically rolled the towel into a tube before draping it around his shoulders. He grabbed the ends with both hands, evening them up. She’d bet he didn’t realize he was doing it.
Turning her back on him, Elle began to drag the black shorts and simple tank over her body. She didn’t get very far before Zane was making every effort to stop her. His quick fingers tugged at her zipper, trying to prevent her from pulling it up. She twisted her hips out of his reach and finished the job anyway. He snatched at her shirt, grabbing a fistful.
“What are you doing?”
“I would have thought that was obvious.” She let the action of pulling her shirt over her head muffle her words. And tried to ignore the way the back of his hand brushed against her ribs when he fought her every move. “Getting dressed.”