Royal Seductions: Secrets: The Duke's Boardroom Affair
- -
- 100%
- +
He held his hands up defensively. “Relax. I wasn’t suggesting that.”
My God, listen to yourself. Maybe Charles was right. Maybe her self-esteem had taken a hit lately. Maybe her confidence was shot. Why else would she be so touchy?
Maybe she needed to get out with people. Reestablish her sense of self. Or something like that.
She softened her tone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”
“If you really don’t want to go to the party—”
“I’ll go,” she said firmly. “For the whole weekend.”
Who knows, maybe a short vacation would be good for her. A chance to forget about the shambles her life was currently in and just relax.
And who knew? She might even have fun.
Victoria unlocked her flat door at exactly seven-thirty the following evening. Early by her standards, yet it had felt like the longest day of her life.
Since she’d kissed Charles the other night, then accepted his offer to join him at his parents, the teasing and sexual innuendo hadn’t ceased. When they were alone, anyway. When anyone else was around he was nothing but professional. He treated her more like a peer than a subordinate. It was his way of showing that he did indeed respect her.
And maybe the teasing wasn’t as bad as it had been at first. Not so immoral. Not that she would allow it to progress to anything more than that.
She dropped her purse and keys on the hall table and headed straight for the wine rack, draping her suit jacket on the back of the couch along the way. She opened a bottle of cabernet, her favorite wine, poured herself a generous glass, kicked off her pumps, and collapsed on the couch.
Charles left work at the same time, making sure to let her know, in the elevator on the way down to the parking structure, that he had a dinner date. As if she cared one way or the other how or with whom he chose to spend his free time. Although she couldn’t help wondering who the unlucky girl could be. Amber from the club, perhaps? Or maybe Zoey from the fund-raiser last Friday? Or a dozen others who had called him in the past few days. Or maybe someone new.
Whoever she was, Victoria was just glad it wasn’t her.
Are you really? an impish little voice in her head asked. Aren’t you even a little curious to know what the big deal is? Why so many women fall at his feet? They can’t all be after his money and title.
It had to be the wine. It was going straight to her head. Probably because she’d skipped lunch. Again.
You’ll waste away to nothing, her father used to warn her, in regard to her spotty eating habits. And it would certainly explain her peculiar lack of energy. Not to mention the noisy rumble in her stomach. She sipped her wine and made a mental list of what was in her refrigerator.
Leftover Thai from three days ago that was probably spoiled by now. A few cups of fat-free yogurt, sour skim milk and a slightly shriveled, partial head of romaine lettuce. The contents of the freezer weren’t much more promising. A few frozen dinners long past their expiration date and a bag of desiccated, ice-encrusted peas.
She was weeks past due for a trip to the market, but lately there never seemed to be time. Besides, she’d never been much of a cook. There had never been time to learn. On late nights at the Houghton she ate dinner in her office, or their housekeeper doubled as a cook when the need arose. In fact, in her entire life Victoria had never cooked an entire meal by herself. She wasn’t even sure if she knew how.
Nor did she have the inclination to learn.
She sat up and grabbed the pile of carryout menus on the coffee table. The sushi place around the corner was right on top.
That would work.
She grabbed the cordless phone and was preparing to dial when the bell chimed for the door. Who could that be? She hoped it wasn’t her father. She hadn’t returned any of his calls, and he was probably getting impatient.
Maybe if she didn’t answer, whoever it was would go away.
She waited a moment, holding her breath, then the bell chimed again.
With a groan she set the phone and her nearly empty glass on the coffee table and dragged herself up from the couch, a touch dizzy from the wine, and picked her way to the door. She peered through the peephole, surprised to find not her father but Charles standing there.
What in heaven’s name did he want?
She considered not opening the door, but he’d probably seen her car parked out front and knew she was home. She just couldn’t force herself to be rude.
She unlatched the chain, pulled the door open and asked, “What do you want?”
Despite her sharp tone, he smiled. He was still wearing his work clothes. Well put together, but with just a hint of the end-of-the-day rumples. And he looked absolutely delicious.
Bite your tongue, Vic.
“I realized I still owe you dinner,” he said. In his hand he held a carryout bag from the very restaurant she had just been about to phone. As though he had somehow read her mind.
That was just too weird.
“I hope you like sushi,” he said, shouldering his way past her into her flat. Uninvited yet again.
So why wasn’t she doing anything to stop him?
“And if I don’t like sushi?” she asked, following him to the kitchen.
“Then you wouldn’t have a menu for a sushi restaurant conveniently by the phone.” He set the bag on the counter. “Would you?”
How did he…?
He must have seen it there that morning. The first time he barged in uninvited. “I thought you had a date.”
The idea that someone stood him up was satisfying somehow, although, what it really meant was she was his second choice. The veritable booby prize.
“I do.” He set the bag on the countertop and grinned. “With you.”
What was it she just felt? Relieved? Flattered?
Highly doubtful.
She folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t think it can be considered a date when the other party knows nothing about it.”
He pasted an innocent look on his face. “Did I forget to tell you?”
He took off his jacket and handed it to her. Like an idiot, she took it. And came this close to lifting it to her nose to breathe in his scent, rubbing her cheek against the fabric. She caught herself at the last second and folded it over her arm instead.
Stop it, Vic.
He wasn’t paying attention, anyway. He was busy emptying the bag, opening the carryout containers.
The aroma of the sushi wafted her way, making her mouth water. And if she didn’t eat something soon, the wine was going to give her a doozy of a headache.
“I’ll have dinner with you,” she said, then added, “just this once.”
He shrugged, as though her refusing his company had never even crossed his mind. Could he be more arrogant? Or more cute?
No, no, no! He is not cute.
It took only a few disastrous office romances to make her vow never to get involved with a coworker again. Not to mention the other laundry list of reasons she would never get involved with a man like him.
This was just dinner.
“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got a variety,” he said.
“I guess.” There was enough there to feed half a dozen people. She would have some left over for lunch and dinner tomorrow. And since he went through all this trouble, the least she could do is offer him a drink. “I just opened a bottle of cabernet.”
“I thought you would never ask,” he said with a grin, then gestured to the cupboards. “You have plates?”
“To the left of the sink.” She draped his jacket neatly over the back of the couch over her own and poured him a glass of wine, then refilled her own glass. She really should slow down, wait to drink until she’d eaten something, but the warm glow of inebriation felt good just then. And it wasn’t as if she was completely sloshed or anything. Just pleasantly buzzed.
The dining table was topped with half-unpacked boxes, so she carried their glasses to the coffee table instead. It was that or eat standing up in the kitchen, and she honestly didn’t think her legs would hold her up for long. She considered going back into the kitchen to help him, but the couch looked so inviting, she flopped down and made herself comfortable. Some hostess she was, making him serve her dinner. But he didn’t seem to mind.
Besides, that’s what he got for showing up out of the blue.
“Do you have a serving platter?” Charles called from the kitchen.
“Somewhere in this mess,” she said. The truth was she usually just ate straight from the carryout containers. “I haven’t gotten that far in my unpacking.” She paused, guilt getting the best of her, and called, “Do you want help?”
“No, I’ve got it.”
Good. She rested her head back on the cushions, sipped her wine, and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, he was setting everything down on the coffee table.
“Wake up. Time to eat.”
“Just resting my eyes,” she said. She sat up and he sat down beside her, so close their thighs were touching. His was solid and warm. She didn’t normally let her size bother her, but he just seemed so large in comparison. Intimidating, although not in a threatening way, if that made any sense at all. And, God help her, he was sexy as hell with his collar open and his sleeves rolled up.
She took a tuna roll, dipped it in soy sauce, and popped it into her mouth. He did the same. The delicious flavors were completely lost on her as she watched him eat. He even managed to chew sexy, if that was possible.
She peeled her eyes away, before he noticed her staring, just as the doorbell chimed again.
“Expecting someone?” he asked, like maybe she had a date with some other man that had slipped her mind.
“Not that I recall.” She sighed irritably and dragged herself up and walked to the door.
If she weren’t so relaxed from the wine, she would have remembered to check the peephole. And if she had, she would have seen it was her father standing there.
Nine
Victoria stepped into the hall and edged the door shut behind her so her father wouldn’t see who was sitting on her couch. “Daddy, what are you doing here?”
“You haven’t returned my calls. I was concerned.”
I’ll bet you were, she thought. Concerned that all of those lies have started catching up to you. The idea made her heart hurt, but she was too angry to cut him any slack right now.
Besides, now was not the time for that unpleasant discussion. “I’m a little busy right now.”
“Too busy for your own father?” He looked old and tired, but she couldn’t feel sympathy for him.
She needed another day to think about exactly what she wanted to say to him. Not that she’d thought of much else lately. Maybe she just needed time to be less angry. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
His mouth fell open and he stared at her, aghast, as though he couldn’t believe she would deny him entrance into her home. “Victoria, I demand to know what’s going on.”
The door pulled open and Charles appeared behind her wearing a concerned expression. “Everything okay, Victoria?”
She knew he meant well, he was being protective, and in many instances she might have appreciated his intervention.
Now was not one of them.
He’d just done more harm than good.
“What is he doing here?” her father said, spitting out the question.
As if she owed him any explanation at all. Or cared that he was displeased. “Having dinner.”
“Dinner?” he said, not bothering to hide his disdain. “You’re having dinner with him?”
“Yes, I am.”
He looked from her to Charles, and she knew exactly what he was thinking. “Are you—?”
“It’s just dinner,” she said, not that it was any of his business. “And right now you should leave. We’ll talk about this another time.”
But her father wasn’t listening. He was too angry. He knew better than to let himself get upset. It wasn’t good for his heart. Or maybe his heart was just fine now, and that was a lie, too.
“How could you do this to me?” he asked. “How could you betray me this way?”
How could she do this? Who was he to accuse her of deception? “There’s been some betrayal going on, but it certainly isn’t coming from my end.”
“What do you mean?” He shot Charles a venomous glare. “What has he been telling you?”
“What you should have told me a long time ago.”
The angry facade slipped a fraction. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I saw the files from the sale of the hotel, Daddy. I know about all of your debt. All the lies you told me.”
“He’s trying to turn you against me.”
He was still going to deny it? Lie to her face? At the very least she had expected a humbled apology, maybe a plea for forgiveness. Instead he continued to try to deceive her?
She wanted to grab him and shake some sense into him.
She was stunned and angry and hurt. And even worse, she was disappointed. All of her life she had looked up to him. Idolized him even. But he had changed that forever.
“The only one doing that is you, Daddy,” she said sadly, knowing that she would never look at her father the same way again.
“I should go,” Charles said, taking a step backward from the door. This was a little too intense for his taste. Had he known it was her father at the door, he never would have interfered. He had enough of his own family issues to deal with without taking on someone else’s.
Victoria held up a hand to stop him. “No. You stay. You were invited. My father is the one who needs to go.”
Technically, Charles had shown up unannounced and muscled his way inside. But he didn’t think now was the time to argue with her.
“I can’t believe you’re choosing him over me,” her father said.
“And I can’t believe you’re still lying to me,” she shot back, although she sounded more resigned than angry. “Until you can be honest with me, we have nothing left to say to each other.”
Before her father could utter another word, she shut the door and flipped the deadbolt, and for several seconds she just stood there. Maybe waiting for him to have a change of heart.
After a moment of silence, she rose up on her toes and peered out the peephole. She sighed quietly, then turned to face Charles and leaned against the door. “He’s gone.”
“Victoria, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s not your fault. He’s the one who lied to me. He’s still lying to me.”
“I’m sure he’ll come around.”
She shook her head. “I’m not so sure. You have no idea how stubborn he can be.”
If he was anything like Victoria, Charles had a pretty good idea. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m not sure. But I do know what I’m not going to do.”
“What’s that?”
“All my life I’ve been doing what my father asked of me. What was expected of me. Not anymore.”
She surprised him by taking his hand, lacing her fingers through his. She gave it a tug. “Come on.”
“Where?”
“Where do you think, genius? To my bedroom.”
Wait…what? How had they jumped from dinner to her bedroom? “I beg your pardon?”
He’d been out to get in her knickers since the day he met her. And it certainly wouldn’t be the first time he’d taken advantage of a situation to seduce a woman—although she seemed to be doing most of the seducing now. Not to mention that he had a strong suspicion she was slightly intoxicated. Again, that had never stopped him before. Yet, something about this just didn’t feel right.
He actually felt…guilty.
She tugged again and he felt his feet moving.
“Hey, don’t get me wrong,” he said, as he let her lead him down the hall. “I’m not one to pass up revenge sex, but are you sure this is a good idea?”
“I think it’s an excellent idea.” She dragged him into the bedroom and switched on the lamp beside her bed. Only then did she let go of his hand.
Like the rest of the flat, there were boxes everywhere, but in the dim light the bed looked especially inviting. And oh, so tempting.
But he knew he really shouldn’t.
She turned to him and started unbuttoning her blouse.
Christ, she was making it really hard to do the right thing. “Maybe we should step back a second, so you can think about what you’re doing.”
She gazed up at him though thick, dark lashes. “I know exactly what I’m doing.” The blouse slipped from her shoulders and fluttered silently to the carpet.
Ah, hell.
Underneath she wore a lacy black bra. Sexier than he would have imagined for her. But he’d always suspected, or maybe fantasized, there was more to Victoria. That deep down there was a temptress just waiting to break free.
It looked like he was right.
She reached behind her to unzip her skirt, and desire curled low and deep in his gut. “Are you just going to stand there?” she asked.
“I just don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.” Where was he getting this crap? When did he ever care if a woman had regrets? Was he, God forbid, growing a conscience?
“I’m a big girl. I can handle it.” She eased the skirt down her legs, hips swaying seductively, and let it fall in a puddle at her feet. She wore a matching black lace thong and thigh-high stockings. And her body? It was damn near perfect. In fact, he was pretty sure it was perfect. And he was so mesmerized that for a minute, he forgot to breathe.
“You’ve been after me for days,” she said. “Don’t chicken out now.”
Calling him a chicken was a little harsh, considering two days ago she’d accused him of disrespect toward the opposite sex. The woman was a walking contradiction. But an extremely sexy and desirable one.
His favorite kind.
She walked toward him—stalked him was more like it—and reached up to unfasten the buttons of his shirt. She did look as though she knew what she was doing.
One button, two buttons. He really should stop her. It wouldn’t take much. Although he suspected that if he turned her down now, he wouldn’t get another chance.
Damn it. It shouldn’t be this complicated. Maybe that was what was really bothering him. This had complex and messy written all over it.
One more button, then another. Then she pushed his shirt off his shoulders and down his arms. She gazed up at him, sighing with satisfaction, her eyes sleepy and soft. She flattened her hands on his chest, dragging her nails lightly across his skin all the way to his waistband. She toyed with the clasp on his slacks…
Oh, what the hell.
He circled an arm around her waist and dragged her against him. Her surprised gasp was the last thing he heard before he crushed his mouth down on hers. Hard.
She groaned and looped her arms around his neck, fingers sinking through his hair. Feeding off his mouth.
He scooped her up off her feet and they tumbled onto the mattress together. She was so small he worried he might crush her, but she managed to wriggle out from under him, push him onto his back so she could get at the zipper of his slacks. Then she shoved them, along with his boxers, down his hips, and he kicked them away.
“My goodness,” she said, gazing down at him with a marginally stunned expression. “We’ve certainly been blessed, haven’t we?”
Though he hadn’t considered it until just then, she was awfully petite. What if she was that small everywhere?
“Too much for you?” he asked.
“Let’s hope not.” She took a deep breath and blew it out. “Condom?”
“In my wallet, in my jacket.” Which was in the other room.
“Right back,” she said, hopping up from the bed and darting from the room. A bundle of sexual energy. She was back in seconds, long before he had time to talk any sense into himself.
Who was he kidding? They were already well past the point of no return. Besides, she didn’t appear to be having any second thoughts.
He sat up and she tossed him his wallet. He fished a condom out, then, realizing one probably wasn’t going to cut it—he hoped—he grabbed one more.
“You’re sure those will fit?” she asked, but he could see that she was teasing.
“They’re extra large,” he assured her, setting his wallet and both condoms on the bedside table.
Victoria stood beside the bed, gazing at him with hungry eyes. She unhooked the front clasp on her bra and peeled it off, revealing breasts that couldn’t have been more amazing. Not very big, but in perfect proportion to the rest of her. High and firm. The perfect mouthful. And he couldn’t wait to get a taste.
She walked to the bed, easing her thong down and kicking it into the pile with the rest of her clothes. He decided, now that he’d seen the whole package, she really was perfect.
And just for tonight, she was all his.
Though he usually liked to be the one in charge, he didn’t protest when she pushed him down onto his back and climbed on him, straddling his thighs, her stockings soft and slippery against his skin. What he really wanted was to feel them wrapped around his shoulders, but she had something entirely different in mind. She grabbed one of the condoms and had it out of the package and rolled into place in the span of one raspy breath.
It was a surreal feeling, lying there beneath her, and the fact that she had seduced him and not the other way around. She was unlike any woman he had been with before. Most tried too hard to impress him, to be what they thought he wanted. For Victoria, it just seemed to come naturally. She leaned down and kissed him, teasing at first. Just a brush of her lips, and a brief sweep of her tongue. She tasted like wine and desire. And when she touched him, raked her nails lightly down his chest, he shivered. She seemed to know instinctively what to do to drive him nuts.
They kissed and touched, teased each other until he did not think he could take much more. Victoria must have been thinking the same thing.
She locked her eyes on his, lowered herself over him and took him inside her. Tentatively at first. She was so slick and hot, so small and tight, he almost lost it on that first slow, downward slide. Then she stopped, and for an instant he was afraid he really might be too much for her, too big. But her expression said he was anything but. It said that she could handle anything he could dish out, and then some. It said that she wanted this just as much as he did.
She rose up, slowly, until only the very tip remained inside of her. She hovered there for several seconds, torturing him, then, with her eyes still trained on his, sank back down, her body closing like a fist around him. He groaned, teetering on the edge of an explosion. In his life he’d never seen or felt anything more erotic. And if she did that one more time, he was going to lose it.
He rolled her over onto her back and plunged into her. She arched up against him, gasping, her eyes widening with shock because he was so deep.
He nearly stopped, to ask her if she was okay, but she was clawing at his back, hooking her legs around his hips, urging him closer, and that said everything he needed to know. He may have been bigger than her, but they fit together just fine. He stopped worrying about hurting her. All he could think about was the way it felt. The way she felt. And every thrust brought him that much closer to the edge.
The last coherent thought he had was that this was too good, too perfect, then Victoria shuddered and cried out, her body tensing around him, and he couldn’t think at all as she coaxed him into oblivion with her.
Ten
Victoria lay in bed beside Charles, watching him sleep. Typical man. Have sex three or four times then go out like a light.
He looked so peaceful. So…satisfied. A feeling she definitely shared.
In her experience, first times always tended to be a little awkward or uncomfortable. But there was nothing awkward about the way Charles had touched her. She’d once believed that just because a man looked like he would be good in the sack didn’t necessarily mean he would be, but Charles had completely blown that theory to smithereens as well.