Dodging Temptation (The Retreat) (7 page)

“That
’
s it,” he whispered against her flushed skin. “Ride my leg right here in the hallway where anyone can see. You want to come so bad you don
’
t even care, do you?
”

She didn
’
t. The other people. The rest of the world. None of it mattered right now. She moaned and quickened her pace, the thrumming in her core building in strength.

“Fuck, listening to you is making me so hard.” He pinched her nipple through her cotton tank top, rolling the tight bud between his fingers with enough pressure to make her legs quake. “Naughty girl, you like getting off in public.” He pressed his thigh more firmly against her clit, rubbing it back and forth as she circled her hips. “The elevator just lit up. Someone
’
s coming. The question is, will you before they get here?”

It was too much. His words. The vibrations making her body pulse. The fact that she was fully dressed in a hotel hallway with her arms pinned above her head while she rode Dodge
’
s thigh already so close to orgasm that her toes had curled.

“You better hurry or someone
’
s gonna get a show.” He pulled her nipple taut and gave her earlobe a quick bite. “Now.”

She came apart. Her back arched, and her entire body stiffened as jolt after jolt of pleasure zapped through her like she
’
d grabbed hold of a live wire with both hands. The rest of the world melted away, leaving only them. Eyes closed, she dropped her head to his shoulder and tried to catch her breath. Holy hell, it was going to take a minute to come back to reality from that.

The elevator dinged. Harper
’
s breath caught.
Fuck.
She thought he
’
d been bullshitting about the elevator, feeding a fantasy she didn
’
t even realize she had.

“Dodge,” she squeaked out.

He released her wrists and slid his leg out from between hers. Her arms collapsed to her sides, and it took nearly everything she had to stay perpendicular to the floor instead of sliding down the door, thanks to her jellified legs. She couldn
’
t believe she’d done that. Out here. In the hall. With
him.
Anyone could have seen. Looked like New Harper and Old Harper needed to have a talk, because the last thing she needed was to get involved with a man who handed out marching orders with absolute authority.

“Really, I never. First the reporters and now this,” a woman muttered.

Dodge turned his body so he stood between her and her grouchy neighbor and glanced over his shoulder. “
Evening, Mrs. Vander.
”

Taking advantage of his distraction, Harper did the first smart thing since agreeing to share her chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream in exchange for whipped cream. She opened her room door, slipped inside, and shut it firmly behind her. Afraid if she tried to move any farther that her legs would give out, she rested her forehead against the closed door.

His chuckle reverberated through the thick oak door. “I never pegged you for a chicken, Harper.”

Heat burned her cheeks. “I
’
m not a chicken. I
’
m the queen of Irish good-byes.” Slipping away unnoticed from political functions had been one of her greatest talents in her former life.

“Sweet dreams then, my liege.”

Harper peeked through the peephole in time to see Dodge retreating down the hall. Sweet dreams? She doubted any of her dreams would be of the sweet variety. Hot and steamy enough to melt her pillow? Yeah, that sounded more like what she
’
d dream about tonight—if she could even sleep.

D
odge walked a little more bowlegged than usual down the hall toward his suite. Tonight had gone better than expected with her agreeing to the interview…and, if he was honest, a little worse. He couldn’t shake the niggling doubt her soft moans had triggered. Either Harper was an expert at pretending to be the nearly innocent ingénue or she really was. Was it possible his grandfather had suckered her into being his spy or was that just his hard-on talking? It had to be the boner. He was never wrong when it came to business. Never.

Chapter Six

T
he knock on Harper
’
s door at seven in the morning would have woken her up from a dead sleep. However, since all she
’
d done all night was toss and turn because of an itch she couldn
’
t scratch, the rapping was only a reminder that she hadn
’
t slept, because Dodge Loving had shaken something loose inside her that she doubted would ever fit perfectly back in its former place.

“Room service,” a female voice called out.

Stifling her disappointment that it wasn
’
t Dodge on the other side of her door, Harper hustled across the room and opened the door a crack. “I didn
’
t order room service.”

The smell of fresh bacon, scrambled eggs, a
nd orange juice that wafted into her room made her wish she had, though. Who knew sexual frustration could leave someone totally and completely famished?

“Compliments of Mr. Loving.”

“For me?”

“Yes ma
’
am, for you.” She turned the cart laden with silver-dome-topped plates away from Harper
’
s room.
“Of course, I can return it if you want.”

Her stomach protested with a yowl. “No, that
’
s fine.
” She opened the door.

The attendant wheeled the cart in, stopped near the overstuffed chair by the fireplace, and removed the silver domes covering the plates. “We have bacon from the local Watson Farms, scrambled eggs with a dash of paprika, fresh baked biscuits and…” She lifted the smallest dish cover revealing an ice cream sundae. “A scoop of chocolate chip cookie dough with extra whipped cream and cherries.”

Looks like she hadn
’
t been the only one who couldn
’
t stop thinking about last night and the possibilities today held. Excitement prickled her skin, giving her just the shot of adrenaline her sleepy brain needed to be fully awake.

“Thank you,” Harper said, barely remembering the manners her proper mother had drilled into her.

“You’re
welcome.
” The attendant held out an envelope. “From Mr. Loving.” She turned and walked to the door. “Whenever you
’
re finished, call the front desk and we
’
ll remove the tray from your room.”

Harper mumbled an okay as she slid her finger under the envelope
’
s seal and then withdrew the single white sheet of paper.

Every time I closed my eyes all I could see was the way you sucked in your bottom lip when you came last night, and all I could hear was your soft moans. This breakfast is my way of bribing you in hopes of seeing and hearing more of you tonight. Until then, I have everything set up for you at eight thirty a.m. in the main library. Thank you for last night and this morning.

He didn
’
t sign the note. He didn
’
t have to; she
’
d know who
’
d sent it based on the handwriting alone with its forcefully formed capital letters denoting a dominant, determined personality. So what kind of surprise was waiting in the library at eight thirty? She couldn’t wait to find out.

Harper scooped up some whipped cream on her fingertip and sucked it off, wishing Dodge was here so she could see his reaction—the fire and hunger that had blazed front and center last night and wound her up tight enough to…well, get off on his leg. Embarrassment burned her cheeks.
Holy hell.
What had she been thinking? She hadn
’
t—and for someone who
’
d learned about proper decorum in the cradle, the whole thing was a mess.

Still
, she couldn
’
t deny that it did something for her. She grabbed the spoon and scooped up the ice cream. Dessert first might be against the rules for the old Harper, but if she didn
’
t it would melt, and that would be unforgivable. New Harper totally approved. Maybe a no-strings-attached hookup was what she needed. Soon, she’d be back in Washington, D.C., so why not have a little fun while in Wyoming?

One breakfast devoured and a shower later, she glanced at the clock. She had twenty minutes until meeting Dodge in the library. If breakfast was the first surprise of the day, she couldn
’
t wait to see what else he had in store.

Glancing at the mirror, she gave herself a critical appraisal. No amount of cover-up was going to completely disguise Harper
’
s dark circles, and God knew no one had invented the kind of makeup that would hide the extra spark of naughty in her eyes, so it looked like slightly disheveled with a side of lusty giddiness was her look for the day. Not that the shoulder-high stacks of cowboy diaries would notice, but Dodge would. Her heartbeat sped up at the prospect of seeing him again. Desire slid through her veins bringing a little extra pink to her cheeks and making her bra tight as her breasts grew heavy in anticipation. Exhaling a heady breath that sent her bangs flying straight up, she replaced the highlighter brush into its proper spot in her custom-designed travel case and snapped it shut.
Take it down a notch, Harp. He
’
s just a guy.

Before her newly found sex-kitten side could remind her of what kind of guy he was, Harper pulled her thoughts away from the brink and hurried over to the walk-in closet. The Michael Kors emerald green halter top jersey dress would do nicely. It was comfortable, casual, and the color made her feel like she could strut the runway. Ten minutes later, she pulled her hair into a low, messy bun and was as ready as she was ever going to be to face Dodge again after last night.

Lucky for her, Mrs. Vander was not lurking in the hallway. She skipped the elevator and took the wide main staircase down to the lobby level. While she was doing her work authenticating May
’
s cowboy diaries in the family
’
s private library upstairs, she
’
d taken several side trips to the lodge
’
s main library and knew the way by heart. The double doors were closed. She checked her watch. Eight thirty on the dot.

Harper pressed her fist to her stomach, hoping to settle the butterflies swooping around in there, and exhaled a deep breath. Calling up all the image-first lessons she
’
d learned in how to school her face into a neutral mask, she exhaled a deep breath and turned the doorknob. Dodge sat on the edge of a small table flanked by two men, one of whom held a professional-grade camera. Her step faltered.

Dodge rushed over, his smile doing a number on her and overwhelming the nervous buzzing sounding in her ears.

“
Harper.
” He held her hand, sending jolts of electricity up her arm. “Thank you again for doing this.” He turned to face the other men. “Let me introduce you to Brian Haley and Steve Carmichael. Brian here is the editor of the
Freemont Daily
,
and Steve is the newspaper
’
s photographer. They
’
ll be doing the interview.”

Her stomach dropped to her toes and then dug its way several feet down into The Retreat
’
s foundation. Nausea replaced the butterflies, and the sharp sting of betrayal snapped her spine straight. Like a total idiot, she
’
d forgotten that Dodge didn
’
t just want her, he wanted something
from
her—for her to sacrifice her privacy and lose her job for the sake of the The Retreat
’s super-secret guest.

“Nice to meet to you, gentlemen,” she said through gritted teeth. “Mr. Loving, may I speak to you outside for a moment?”

“Of course. We
’
ll be a second, guys.” The certainty in his gaze wavered, and he leaned in closer to whisper. “Are you okay?”

“I
’
m fine,
” she shot back in a low tone. “I prefer not to commit murder in front of witnesses.”

D
odge closed the library door behind him with a quiet
click
that echoed in the deserted hallway. Most of The Retreat
’
s guests were either still asleep or being treated to in-room dining at this hour, which is why he asked Brian and Steve to come now. The fewer people who knew about the reporters
’
presence the better—for Harper and The Retreat. It made perfect sense, although he should have taken the time to explain his plan to Harper, but he
’
d wanted to get everything in motion before she changed her mind. He wanted her even though he didn’t trust her. The hair on the back of his neck lifted as he watched her pace the narrow width of the hallway looking every bit like
she was planning to follow through on her whispered threat.

“What
’
s wrong?” Had she changed her mind? Did she want more prep time? Should he have had coffee waiting?

She spun around on her heel. “Are you serious?” Her decibel level stayed low, but that didn
’
t take away from the venom in her tone.

“No, I
’
m just kidding,” he whisper-yelled right back. “Yes, I
’
m serious.”

“I never agreed to this.” She jerked a pointed finger toward the closed library door. “You couldn
’
t take no for an answer so you set it up anyway, and now you
’
re acting all pissed at me? You
’
re a piece of work.”

The world screeched to a jarring halt. Dodge
’
s jaw dropped as he tried—and failed—to make sense of her words. She said she would, just last night. “What the hell, Harper, that
’
s not funny.”

“No, it
’
s not.” Her pale cheeks had turned a splotchy red, and her brown eyes had become so dark with fury that they were nearly black.

She nailed him to the floor with a look that challenged him in a way most people wouldn
’
t even dare to chance—and for good reason.

“I
’
ve spent my life making other people
’
s lives easier, no matter how negatively it affected me. I should have known better last night. I knew you wanted something
from
me more than you ever wanted me. I
’
ve been the good daughter and the proper wife and I
’
m done with that life. I may have stumbled last night, but I
’
m done with being nothing more than a pawn for powerful men to move around a chessboard.”

Fuck. This is what he got for playing along with her game instead of moving forward and doing what needed to be done. “You agreed to this last night in the kitchen. You said ‘I will do that’.”

“I said ‘I will do that’ meaning I would
think
about the interview.”

“That
’
s not the way I remember things.” He squashed the sliver of doubt flickering in the back of his mind and ignored the tickle of conscience. What
’
s done was done. This was the right course of action when dealing with a corporate spy and blackmailer, no matter how they
’
d gotten here.

Harper threw up her hands with a frustrated groan before lifting her bangs and flattening them across the crown of her head. “Is there a tattoo visible only to assholes that says ‘please fuck with me’? No? I didn
’
t think so.” She let her hair drop and shook her head at him. “Do you ever listen to anyone but yourself?”

The question jabbed into him, slicing a path straight to that ember of doubt he hadn
’
t managed to snuff out, which moved him from annoyed confusion to pissed off defensiveness in a heartbeat. “I listened a lot to you last night in words and moans.”

She inhaled a sharp breath and flinched back. “You did
not
just go there.”

Fuck he had. Regret at how he
’
d lashed out pinched his lungs together, and he reached out for Harper, something more than the need to beat her at her own game pushing him into action. “I
’
m sorry, I shouldn
’
t—”

She sidestepped his touch. “That makes two of us. Now if you
’
ll excuse me, I have a job to do that will keep me as far away from you as possible for the next few weeks.”

Not even the sight of her perfect ass swaying under her green dress made watching her walk away any better. Sure, he
’
d crossed the line with the last comment, but that wasn
’
t any reason for going all drama queen. She’d taken the ingénue role a little far. If she was hoping to goad him into following her, then she was about to find out how wrong she was.
Of all the…
Oh, screw it.

If she wouldn
’
t accept his apology for taking her at her word, then he sure as hell wasn
’
t about to chase after her and beg forgiveness. He didn
’
t do that. Never had. Never would. He
’
d provided the most efficient solution to
both
their problems, and she
’
d gotten stuck on semantics. He didn
’
t have time for that, not if he was going to figure out exactly what she and his grandfather were up to, keep Garth
’
s location a secret, and make sure The Brasch Group deal went off without a hitch. Priorities. He had his in the right order, and nothing was going to deter him, especially not a devious redhead with a penchant for corporate spying, ice cream, and public sex.

Shoving his frustration into a black hole where most people kept their hearts, Dodge opened the library door with a feasible lie on his lips about Harper
’
s disappearance before he
’
d even crossed the threshold.

D
odge
’
s office was the one place in The Retreat that was supposed to be his own. Instead, when he pushed open the thick door, he found his brothers lounging around the oak paneled room like it was theirs. Stone was laid out lengthwise on the small couch with his cowboy hat tipped forward to cover his face if not his snores. Griff sat in the guest chair tapping away on his cell with his feet propped up on Dodge
’
s desk. Dodge slammed the door shut with enough force to rattle the pictures on the wall and wake up Stone.