Tempting Taylor (11 page)

“I don’t think it’s wise for you to be here without your
attorney present,” Cooper said, keeping his voice mild.

Bettina waved her hand dismissively. “I prefer to keep this
matter between us.”

He watched as Rich stood behind his mother, letting her do
the talking. Spineless ass. “Let’s keep it brief. I’m busy.”

She laid her palms flat on his desk. “I want you to give me
ten million dollars.”

Cooper didn’t even blink an eye. “And why would I do that?”

“I will make your life a living hell.” When he didn’t reply,
merely crossed his arms over his chest, she leaned toward him. “I will do
everything I can to ruin you.”

He stared at her coldly. “Do it.”

“You think you’re untouchable, don’t you?” she sneered. “But
people don’t know the real you. I will make sure the truth comes out.” She
straightened, wiping imaginary lint off her skirt. “You know exactly what I’m
thinking about.”

“Enlighten me.”

“I wonder how people will feel about the great Cooper
Hathaway when they find out you’re a bastard? That your mother foisted you on
an unsuspecting Mason, passing you off as his son? She was nothing but a w—”

“Be very careful what you say about my mother,” he warned
softly.

“But of course that juicy little tidbit doesn’t have to become
public knowledge. Ten million dollars buys my silence. We will go away quietly
and never bother you again.”

Anger rose to choke him but Cooper sought to control it.
“You’re crazy if you think I’m giving you a cent.” Bettina was a hateful,
greedy bitch, and stupid if she thought he was going to give in to her
blackmail. “Do what you want. I don’t care. I have already won. I took my
mother’s company from you and that’s all that matters to me. Now get the fuck
out.” Cooper pressed the button that summoned security.

Bettina’s face contorted into ugly lines with anger and she
let out a scream. “I hate you. I wish you’d never come back into our lives.
Mason never loved you, you know. He hated you!”

Rich finally moved, putting his arms around his mother. “You’ll
regret this.”

The door opened and two uniformed men came in.

“Escort them out of the building,” he ordered, watching
dispassionately as Bettina struggled against them, throwing their hands off
her.

“Don’t touch me,” she snarled. Before walking out the door,
she turned to Cooper once again. “You’ll be sorry,” she promised, the
malevolence in her voice clear as she disappeared down the hallway.

Alone, Cooper jammed his hands in his pockets and stared out
the window. He’d never before felt such anger for anybody, a cold fury that
he’d carried with him for years. Up until now, he’d directed his energy toward
securing the company his mother had poured her life into. He’d used cold
calculation and business strategy to make sure that he pulled the rug out from
under Bettina’s feet. Anger had driven him to succeed. He needed power and
money to achieve his goals and when he did, he’d taken such pleasure from
watching Bettina lose her hold on the company Mason Hathaway had left her.

That didn’t even matter to him. He didn’t want anything of
Mason’s. All he had wanted from the beginning was the company.

Bettina and her son could go to hell.

* * * * *

Taylor hummed under her breath as she chopped red and green
peppers, broccoli and carrots. Cooper had casually mentioned that Greta and
Eamon were going out of town and maybe she wanted to go to dinner. On the spur
of the moment, she’d left work early and decided to swing by the grocery store
and cook for him so they wouldn’t have to go out. She knew he preferred quiet dinners
at home and she persuaded Greta to delay her departure a bit and wait for her
so she could get in the house. The housekeeper had been more than happy to do
just that, and had showed Taylor where everything was in the well-equipped
kitchen.

She’d agonized over what to make. Something simple and
foolproof. In the end, she’d settled for one of the recipes previously featured
in the e-zine, a no-fail stir-fry beef with rice pilaf. It was amazingly easy,
and even a novice in the kitchen like her had no problem following the recipe.

Her cellphone rang. Fishing it out of her purse, she saw
that it was Cooper calling and pressed the button to answer. “Please don’t tell
me you’ve been delayed at work,” she said without preamble.

“Where are you, Taylor?” There was a faint hint of
irritation in his voice.

That gave her pause. “Where are you?” she asked, though she
had a suspicion.

“I’m right outside your apartment but it seems nobody’s
home.”

She grinned. “Well, it seems we’re at cross purposes.”

“Taylor—”

“Cooper,” she countered in a mock serious tone. “I am
standing here in your kitchen making you dinner and—”

Click. The line went dead.

She giggled and then sobered when she realized she had to
get everything ready. Twenty minutes later, when he walked to the kitchen, she
had finished cooking.

“Hi.”

“Rough day?” she asked as she noticed the faint lines of
strain around his lips.

He shrugged. “No more than usual.”

Faint concern filled her at his vague answer. She was
beginning to know him better, slowly learning to read his moods. But she
refrained from asking him what was wrong. “Dinner was supposed to be a
surprise,” she pouted, attempting to lighten the mood.

“It smells good,” he murmured before claiming her lips in a
toe-curling kiss.

“Hmm,” she said when he let her up for air. “That was nice.
Hungry?”

He pulled her close and let her feel his erection. “Oh
yeah.”

“I meant for food.”

He sighed. “Let me go take a shower and then we’ll eat.
Unless I can persuade you to take a shower with me?” He smiled for the first
time since he arrived.

She chuckled and pulled free from his embrace. It would be
too easy to give in. The man was sex on legs. “No thank you. We’ll never eat
dinner if we do that.”

Reluctantly, he let her go and went upstairs to take his
shower. By the time Cooper came down, she’d set the table and had the food laid
out. He picked a wine to go along with the meal and they sat down to eat. The
beef was perfectly cooked and the vegetables fresh and crisp.

“Delicious,” he declared.

Taylor laughed. “It’s a foolproof recipe. Even I can’t mess
it up.”

“Thank you. This was a really nice surprise.”

She blushed. “It’s no big deal, really.”

“How was your day?”

“Crazy busy. Emily’s wedding is coming up in a few weeks,
and I’m helping her with last-minute details and preparations.”

“You’re very close.”

She smiled, fiddling with her wineglass. “You have no idea.
Being friends with Emily saved me. She was a tomboy and I was into dolls and
playing dress-up, but we clicked.”

He leaned back in his chair, looking relaxed. “Now that I
believe.”

She wrinkled her nose. “We got along so well together. We
were like sisters. Emily’s always been good at sports. She tried to teach me
how to swing a bat and shortly after that, declared me hopeless.”

Reaching out, he tucked a curl behind her ear. “You didn’t
play sports at all?”

“No.”

His eyes gleamed with amusement. “Cheerleader, I’ll bet.”

She snorted. “Way off base.”

“What then?”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever sport Emily was playing, I
persuaded the coach to let me help. Kind of like an assistant coach.”

“Assistant coach?” he repeated, one of his eyebrows rising.

“Sure. And in high school, I simply became the team manager.
I took care of the team uniforms, made sure everyone had their schedule,
equipment and stuff.”

He chuckled. “Now I think I’ve heard everything.”

“It was fun. I was very good at it. It made me feel useful
even if I was horrible at sports.”

With a grin, he listened to Taylor talk. He stretched in his
chair, relaxed and mellow. He’d had a shitty day, especially with Bettina and
her son showing up in his office demanding money. He’d gone straight to
Taylor’s apartment after leaving the office, and was pissed when she wasn’t
there. He didn’t even question why he’d automatically sought her out. All he
knew was that he’d wanted to see her, to be with her. After talking to her on
the phone and finding out where she was, he broke speeding laws in his haste to
come home. And when he’d walked into the kitchen and seen her standing over the
stove, all his tension had washed away.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this content.
Taylor had a sharp sense of humor. She was smart and witty. And unbearably
beautiful but without all the artifice that usually came along with stunning
good looks. The women he’d previously gone out with played up their looks and
draped themselves in designer clothing. Conversation with them was superficial
and practiced. No spontaneity.

Taylor was different. She often spoke what was on her mind
and could be charmingly direct. She could be wearing jeans and a plain shirt
and he would still drool over her. She had a way of putting up her hair that
looked sexy as hell to him. He let her invade his personal space willingly,
which was one thing he had never before allowed. He liked his solitude. He liked
his space. But he gladly let Taylor in his life and his home.

He was happy.

His chest tightened. Not with pain. Not with fear. It was
certainty. Taylor meant a lot to him and became increasingly more important
every day they were together. Having her in his life didn’t rattle him. He’d
had women who gave his dick a workout. But out of bed, he had no desire to
spend time with them. Those relationships inevitably ended quickly. If somebody
had told him that he would be happy as a clam being with Taylor, he would have
laughed. He didn’t believe in fucking happily ever after.

“What are you thinking?” she asked softly as she sat down on
his lap. “You seem so far away.”

He sighed with pleasure as she began a gentle massage on his
scalp. “Work stuff. Did I thank you for making this wonderful dinner?”

She placed her lips next to his ear. “Yes, you did. And
again, you’re very welcome. How about you and I share a shower later and I’ll
see if I can take your mind off work?”

Cooper slid his hands up and down her back. “What a great
idea.” He swooped in for a kiss.

Happy ever after now seemed like a very real possibility.

He was so screwed.

“Should I even ask what you’re doing?”

Taylor looked up from her desk, quickly smothering the
pleasure she felt at seeing Cooper standing in the doorway of her office. “This
is a precise task that must be done carefully,” she answered solemnly.
“Separating all the yellow peanut M&Ms from the other colors is very
important.”

He strolled into her office. “I’m scared to ask why.”

“Because yellow is for sunshine and it must be on its own.”
She continued picking out the yellow from the bowl of candies in front of her.
“What? Doesn’t everybody do this?” she asked innocently, and then spoiled it by
chuckling. “It’s one of my quirks.”

“I see.” He sat down in front of her desk. “What do you do
with the others that were unfortunate enough to be colored differently?”

“I put a bowl out by the coffeemaker in the kitchen. Trust
me,” she said dryly, “they don’t last long.”

“I read your article.”

“What do you think?” she asked casually, keeping the anxiety
off her voice.

He stared at her for long minutes. “I like it.”

Releasing the breath she’d been holding, she narrowed her
eyes at him. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack? I thought you hated it
or something.”

Cooper threw back his head and laughed, appearing boyish and
more attractive, if it were possible. “I appreciate you letting me see it
before publication. And thank you for not making it too personal.”

She shrugged, pleased that he liked her article. “You’re
welcome. I respect your privacy. Besides it was geared toward our readers, who
are ninety-five percent female. They just want a glimpse of the real man.”
Which had not been easy, she thought. She tried to put in as much information
in the article without breaching his privacy.

“Have lunch with me,” he invited.

Heat suffused her body. She knew that look, that tone of
voice. “I don’t think lunch is what you have in mind.”

He leaned forward, his suit jacket parting to reveal the
pristine white of the dress shirt that molded against his torso. “Tell me, what
are you wearing under that dress?”

Her cheeks flamed. “You know exactly what I’m wearing. You
saw it this morning.”

The look in his eyes was hot enough to melt her bones. “Just
imagining you wearing that thong is killing me. And that bra—what kind did you
say it was?”

Between her legs, desire pulsed. “It’s a demi cup.”

“Yeah. The kind that barely cover your nipples.”

As if on cue, her nipples hardened into two tight points
against the lacy cup of her bra. His eyes slid down to the bodice of her top,
as if he could see them.

“Stop it,” she breathed.

“Come with me,” he invited again, his dark eyes aroused.

“I can’t,” she choked.

“Let’s go to your apartment. Or my house.”

Taylor closed her eyes. “Cooper.”

“Do you know when I lick your nipples they turn red?”

Her womb contracted sharply as if he was already licking
them. She caught her breath.

“And so delicious I can suck on them for hours. And when I
taste your p—”

She groaned. “Okay, I get it. Please. You’re making it
difficult for both us.”

Cooper expelled a harsh breath. He leaned back, looking over
her shoulder, obviously trying to get himself under control. A moment later, he
shifted his attention back to her. “How about a game of Jeopardy tonight? I’ll
go easy on you.”

Relieved at the change of subject, she rolled her eyes.
She’d found out, quite by accident, that he was a veritable master of that
game. One night in her apartment, he had brought financial projections with him
to review. While she waited for him to finish, she’d switched on the popular
game show. Without even looking up from his laptop, Cooper had answered every
clue that was asked on the show. She’d been flabbergasted. “Uh, I don’t think
so. Now that I know you’re some kind of Jeopardy savant.”

He choked on a laugh. “I’m not.”

“You got all the answers right. Even the final clue.”

He shrugged. “When I was young I used to hang out at the
local library to put off going home as long as I could. I read a lot of books, that’s
all.”

“And apparently retained all that information in your
brain,” she added dryly. “How many people know about this particular talent of
yours?”

“None. And I will deny it if asked.” With a grin, he leaned
back in a deceptively casual pose. “How about we play tonight and make it
interesting?”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “How interesting?”

“If I win, you’ll perform the dance you did for your strip
club article.”

Oh. My. God.
Electricity raced along her skin and
just like that, she was aroused. She met his unblinking gaze, drowning in the
heat simmering in the dark-gray depths. “You still haven’t forgotten that?” she
asked huskily.

“It’s been driving me crazy.”

“You do know from reading that article that I didn’t end up
naked after the dance was over.”

“For which I am eternally grateful. I don’t think I would
have liked the thought of you bare-assed on a stage.”

“It was a high-end gentleman’s club and,” she held up a
finger, “Emily’s brother, Alex, was there with me to act as my bodyguard. Aside
from club security, of course.”

He frowned. “He watched you dance?”

She shook her head with a brief laugh. “Heavens no. He’d
argued the entire way to the club and almost didn’t go with me. Inside he stood
with his back to the stage and watched the men in the audience with a scary
look clearly designed to discourage any untoward behavior. Nobody dared toss
any money my way.”

“I’m relieved to hear that,” he stated seriously. “But for
our wager, I’d insist that you alter your routine to be entirely naked.”

His words washed over hotly. How on earth could this man
turn her on with such ease? Here she was, sitting in her office with her
panties getting wet. She was tempted to say to hell with the bet; she’d perform
it for him anyway. But that would be too easy.

“And what do I get if I win?” she asked huskily.

“What do you want?”

Oh what a loaded question. Where to start? She couldn’t
think of anything at the moment. All the circuits in her brain were fried. “How
about I reserve the right to decide later?”

His gray eyes glinted with promise. “You’re on. I’ll see you
tonight.”

When he left, Taylor leaned her forehead on her desk, her
task of sorting the colorful candies all but forgotten. Cooper was playing
havoc with her equilibrium. How was she supposed the work for the rest of the
day when all she could think about was tonight?

* * * * *

Taylor stared at her reflection in the mirror and tugged at
the low-cut bodice of the French maid’s costume. Even in the muted light of the
en suite bathroom’s recessed lighting, it looked too brief, too revealing.
True, it was demure compared to the outfits the other dancers wore at the strip
club, which consisted of nothing more than strategically placed triangles of
material that eventually came off. She’d chosen this one because of all the
costume designs that Trixie, the star of the club, had shown her that night,
the French maid uniform was the only one that covered the…err…necessities.
Trixie had taken her to a seamstress who had agreed to sew a costume for
Taylor. And to top it off, the woman had fashioned a mask to afford her
anonymity. After the performance, Taylor had taken the costume and mask home
with her, mementos of the night.

Now she wasn’t sure she should have agreed to the wager
Cooper had proposed. Of course she’d lost the game. And now she had to pay up.

Muttering under her breath, she tried once again to tug on
the almost indecent cut of the bodice. The night she’d danced, she had taken a
couple of shots of tequila for liquid courage. The bouncer, a big beefy guy named
Pauly, had sat at one end of the stage, promising to keep an eye out. Alex,
Emily’s brother, had stood on the opposite end with his arms crossed over his
chest, looking menacingly at the men in the audience, even if the club had a
strict no-touch policy, which had reassured Taylor. Out of sheer determination,
she had been able to perform the dance Trixie had taught her, with a few of her
own modifications. It helped, of course, that she couldn’t see beyond the stage
to where the audience sat. It had been the longest minute and a half of her
life.

She huffed a breath. Why oh why did she agree to this wager
anyway?

“Taylor?”

“Just a minute,” she called out, frowning at her reflection
once more. “I don’t claim to be a good dancer, you know that.”

“Uh-huh.”

Fingering the short skirt of the dress, she bit her lip.
“I’m not even sure I can remember the entire routine.”

“I don’t care.”

“I don’t know if I can do this,” she groaned. “At least I
didn’t know anyone in the club that night. And I wore a mask.”

“What’s your point?”

“It was anonymous. That made me more comfortable.”

“It’s just you and me. Nobody else.”

Which wasn’t any better. Dancing in front of Cooper was way
worse. “I don’t know if I can—”

“Taylor,” he warned exasperatedly. “Stop stalling.”

“Okay, okay.” She pulled the door open and peeked out.
“Promise not to laugh?”

Laugh? Was she fucking kidding? Cooper could barely hold his
excitement in check. It was a miracle he hadn’t hauled her ass out of the
bathroom so he could see what she was wearing. He had an erection that wouldn’t
go away. It was getting uncomfortable as hell, trying to sit here while she
hemmed and hawed about everything under the sun.

He pulled in a couple of deep breaths, glaring at his dick,
willing it to stand down. The thing had a mind of its own, always erect and
needy whenever Taylor was around. Even when she wasn’t around, for that matter.
The nights he spent away from her were torture.

His imagination was running riot, thinking of what she could
be wearing. He absolutely refused to think about the men in the audience who’d
seen her performance that night. That was a different kind of torture he didn’t
want to dwell on right now. Once again, there was that familiar spurt of
irrational anger—which he refused to qualify as jealousy—at the thought of
those who’d been lucky enough to see her dance.

Bastards.

“Okay,” he heard her say from behind the bathroom door.
“Here goes nothing. Cue the music.”

Cooper pressed the play button on the remote control he held
in his hand. Deep bass boomed from ceiling-mounted speakers. He wasn’t familiar
with the song, but it was catchy, not slow, not fast, a low sexy tune that
filled the air. The bathroom door opened. Taylor was framed in the doorway,
light spilling out from behind her. His heart thudded in his chest. She was
wearing some kind of maid’s uniform with a short—very short—frilly skirt and a
top that if cut any lower would show her nipples. Her legs were encased in
sheer, thigh-high stockings and she was wearing a red garter belt. And of course
her feet were encased in stilettos.

The sight hit him squarely in the solar plexus, knocking him
for a loop. Damn. He fought to breathe, to relax the tension that suddenly
gripped his body. The outfit was sexy as hell

When Taylor began to move, his cock jumped in his pants. The
sway of her hips, the bounce of her breasts, the swish of the short skirt that
showed glimpses of her ass…it was almost too much. But he’d asked for it. He
was damn well going to enjoy the show.

He gripped the arms of the chair as she moved toward him.
How the hell could she breathe in that tight, lace-up top? Her waist was
cinched in, emphasizing the swells of her breasts, which were presently
jiggling ever so slightly. He itched to palm the enticing mounds, his mouth
watering for a taste.

He almost swallowed his tongue when she leaned forward,
giving him a blockbuster view of her chest as she slowly pulled the laces
through the loops. He held his breath as the top loosened by degrees. Taylor
stopped before it completely fell off. Cooper was tortured by teasing glimpses
of her breasts afforded by the top that still clung to her by some miracle.

She turned her back on him and gave him a smoldering look
over her shoulder. Her fingers went to the waistband of the skirt and pulled
the zipper down. The sway of her hips was hypnotic as they swung from side to
side, the skirt sliding ever so slowly over the curve of her buttocks where it
hung precariously for long seconds before it fell into a puddle at her feet.
Her ass was encased in the sexiest, fire-engine red G-string he’d ever seen and
damn if he nearly jumped out of the chair. The luscious curves beckoned and
sweat dotted his forehead as she briefly jiggled her buttocks at him.

The G-string, the garter belt, the stilettos. The only thing
that was in the way was…Cooper gulped as the corset top joined the skirt on the
floor and she faced him full on.

Fuck me.

There was no sexier sight in the whole damn world than
Taylor at that moment. His tongue wedged to the roof of his mouth at the sight
of her bare breasts, full and crowned with hard nipples. His cock jerked,
protesting its confinement. He clenched his fists. He needed to touch her.
Soon.

The music faded. His heavy breathing echoed in the room. His
ears buzzed. Cooper surged to his feet and grabbed her, slanting his lips over
hers and taking possession. He walked her backward until her knees hit the bed
and she fell. Without missing a beat, he followed her down. Finally letting her
up for air, he slid down her body and did what he’d wanted to do since she’d
thrown off that sorry excuse of a skirt. He tongued her pussy through the
G-string.

“Ahhh,” she moaned.

Out of his mind, urgency riding him hard, he tugged at the
delicate material until he heard a satisfying rip.
That’s more like it.
He tossed the scrap of silk somewhere over his shoulder and buried his face
between her legs. Taylor’s muffled scream sailed over his head as he greedily
ate her. There wasn’t an inch that he left unexplored, licking and lapping at
the cream that coated her cunt. She cried out, writhing in his arms.