Kiss Me Kate (The English Brothers Book 6) (17 page)

She sighed softly, her whole body relaxing as her fingers threaded through his hair. “So, I’d be your first, too. Don’t you want that?”

He looked up, his eyes locking with hers. “More than anything, Kate, but—”

Kate wiggled a little—which was a rare torture because it made her breasts rub against his bare chest—and reached around her back, arching her pelvis up against his for a moment before falling back. His breath hitched from the sensation, but he was quickly distracted: she held up her fingers which clasped a foil packet that glinted in the moonlight. “I stole it from Alex’s bathroom during dinner.”

He reached for the condom, looking at it before glancing back down at her. “You stole this from Alex?”

She sniffled, swiping at her eyes and grinning for the first time tonight. “Uh-huh.”

“You don’t think he’ll miss it?” he teased.

“He had, like, thousands.”

“Ew.” Étienne wrinkled his nose. “I’m not surprised.”

“Étienne,” she asked, arching against him, her breasts soft and nipples tight against his chest. “Can we not talk about my cousin right this minute?”

Her face wasn’t glistening anymore, and though her eyes were still sad, they were expectant now too. Soft with love and dilated with passion, she gazed up at him like an angel.

“Are you sure, Kate? Are you sure you want this?” he asked softly, and in that moment he could feel it: his heart still thundered in his chest, but it didn’t belong to him anymore, it belonged to Kate. And deep in his soul he knew it would belong to Kate forever.

“I’m sure,” she whispered. “I love you. I choose you.”

Holding her eyes, he nodded, then stared at her lips for a moment before leaning down to kiss them.

“You nailed it!” exclaimed Kate as she slid into the cab, scooting over next to the far window to give Étienne a chance to maneuver into the backseat beside her.

After their talk about Amy on the plane, a great deal of tension had collapsed between them and after sitting quietly, holding hands for a little while, Kate had insisted that they review the potential buyers for the oil rigging part of Rousseau Shipbuilding.

A car met their flight and took them to the first of two meetings at which Étienne had offered to take the lead, impressing Kate with his vast knowledge of the enclave of the company that they wanted to sell. After two meetings, one with McKenzie Fuel and one with Hubbard Oil, it looked like they were about to commence a bidding war, which meant more capital for the Rousseau Trust and a faster resolution toward English & Company buying the company.

Étienne grinned at her. “Did you see Alan Hubbard’s face when I explained that McKenzie was willing to pay thirty million?”

“I thought he’d burst a blood vessel,” laughed Kate.

“He was so sure it was in the bag for twenty-two.”

In addition to the pleasure of watching Étienne negotiate, Kate had felt something else stirring inside her heart. After talking about Amy and understanding Étienne’s version of events, Kate felt something a lot like hope. Possibility. And while it frightened her on one level, she felt herself hurtling headlong toward it, like she hadn’t known it before now, but her whole life had been a series of paths and journeys leading here: here to New Orleans, here to a second chance with Étienne Rousseau.

And yet, their personal history was still unexplained. Their personal heartache was still unresolved. She had asked for him to wait until after the deal to discuss their history, but she felt an impatience, an urgency to understand and move forward.
Now
. But with weeks of negotiations ahead, now wasn’t the right time. It would be prudent to save the conversation until everything had been signed, stamped, and delivered. Only then could they spend the time needed to resolve their issues and figure out if a second chance was in the cards.

“Kate,” he said, and she looked over at him, grateful to be distracted from her thoughts, her belly fluttering from the stark appreciation that darkened his eyes. “You weren’t too shabby yourself.”

“I don’t get to do negotiations that often,” she said. “Not like this, you know, in the field. It’s mostly phone calls and board room meetings. This was exciting. It was…fun.”

“The thrill of the hunt,” he said, leaning toward her.

Her heart sped up as she leaned closer to him. “The thrill of the hunt.”

“Kiss me, Kate,” he whispered.

And though she knew it was a bad idea to kiss him again until they settled the broken, untied ends between them, she couldn’t deny his request. Her heart sped into a canter as she leaned forward, closer to him. As he angled his head to the side, his nose nuzzled hers—the lightest touch—and his breath, hot and quick, dusted over her sensitive lips. His skin smelled of soap and she knew he would taste like coffee, and Kate felt her blood surge, making her whole body tingly and charged, the strength of her longing edging out any second thoughts. His face was so close to hers, she could feel the heat from his skin on her cheeks, the feather touch of his eyelashes as he closed his eyes. Their breath mingled and magnified like soft music in her ears and she closed her eyes, tilting her head to the side and leaning forward to touch her lips to his.

He was tentative at first, slow and gentle as he caught her top lip between his, then releasing it and taking her bottom lip before letting it go. A hushed groan, a low sound of pain or relief was released from his throat and vibrated against her lips.

“
Chaton
,” he murmured, forming her name against her lips. “I’ve dreamed of this.”

“Étienne.” She sighed, pulling her lower lip between her teeth as she panted softly, her eyes still closed, her body humming with need for him.

He licked his lips, his tongue brushing against hers for a brief second before he leaned forward again and took her top lip between his again, holding it, claiming it and then letting it go.

“You’ve missed me, too.” He swallowed and his words were soft but urgent. “Tell me. Say it.”

“Yes.” She sighed in surrender. “I’ve missed you, too.”

The soft sucking sound of his lips against hers made shivers course down her back and her hands, balled into fists in her lap, unfurled. Reaching blindly between them, they touched down on the starched fabric of his shirt. She flattened them on his chest and his breath hitched as he lowered his mouth to hers again.

Leaning into her, his arm snaked around her waist, he slid her across the slick seat of the cab, eliminating any distance between them. Her fingers, which grew bolder by the moment, skated up his chest, the backs brushing over the hot skin of his throat, which made him shudder against her. His kiss deepened, and he slipped his tongue between her lips and groaned her name into her mouth. Plunging her fingers into his hair, her thumbs caressed the soft skin behind his ears as her tongue slid against his.

Étienne had kissed Kate on Saturday night, but there was something very different about this kiss. He had asked and she had given. She wanted to be in his arms. She wanted his lips moving insistently over hers. She welcomed the leaping of her heart and the coursing of her blood. She felt alive and desired and aroused beyond belief and she wanted it—everything that Étienne was offering, Kate wanted.

The problem was, Kate wanted—no, Kate
needed
—answers, too. In other words, the timing was terrible.

She pulled away from him, opening her eyes and trying to catch her breath as her chest heaved into his. Panting softly, Étienne leaned his head down, his forehead pressed against hers as his eyes slowly opened.

“We have to talk,” she said. “I need to understand.”

“You wanted to wait,” he said, his voice lower and his accent thicker than usual.

“I can’t,” she murmured. “I can’t wait.”

He leaned back and nodded, his fingers kneading gently against her lower back. She rolled her forehead away from his, dropping her cheek to his shoulder as he tightened his arms around her.

“We’re almost at the hotel,” she said, his fingers making such delicious shivers run down her back that she arched into him, pushing her breasts against his chest

“My room?” he asked in a husky voice.

She shook her head against his suit jacket, leaning away. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I think it’s a
very
good idea,” he answered.

“Please,” she begged him, her breath hitching.

The cab pulled up to the hotel and Étienne leaned back from her, placing his fingers under her chin to tilt her head up.

“I’ll call down to the restaurant and reserve a table in their quietest corner. Meet me for lunch? In half an hour?”

“Yes,” she murmured, drawing away from him.

“And Kate,” he promised her, his eyes darkening as he released her and reached for his wallet, “after we talk, we’re going to finish what we started here.”

***

As they checked in, Étienne refused to make eye contact with Kate. And in the elevator, he purposely stood as far away from her as possible. His body was raging with lust for her, hot and unsatisfied, and he barely trusted himself not to push her up against the elevator wall and have his way with her. Their kisses in the cab, teasing and tender before suddenly turning hot, had made his hunger for her vault from manageable to undeniable, and as he limped behind her, headed for his room, he had no idea how he was going to practice enough patience to talk to her about their past when all he wanted was to bury every inch of his sex into every inch of hers.

He stopped at his room, holding the key card, but watching her make her way two doors down, her ass swaying lightly in a tight gray dress that was keeping his dick hard and his blood hot.

“Kate,” he growled, tightening his jaw as she turned to look at him. With one hand holding her key card, she raked the other through her blonde hair and his erection swelled. “Part of me doesn’t care what happened. I want you. I just want you…
now
.”

She flinched, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as she stared at him in the quiet hotel hallway.

“
I
care,” she said quietly, holding his eyes with longing and sorrow. “I need to understand.”

He fought against taking a step closer to her. “This heat between us. This…chemistry—you can’t deny it. Don’t you
want
it?”

“Of course I want it,” she said, her voice breaking a little. “But it’s like quicksand. You can’t build on it.”

It was his turn to flinch as his lips parted in surprise.

“You want to build something with me?” he asked without thinking, a shot of unexpected hope making his heart race even faster than the sight of her curvy body so close to him in the deserted hotel hallway.

She shrugged, but it wasn’t a casual gesture. It was slow and her shoulder remained bunched and tense by her ears before finally falling. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

Then she slipped her card into the door and pushed her way into the room, the latch quietly echoing her departure.

He stared down the empty hallway for a moment before fumbling in his pocket for the keycard and letting himself into the room.

“
Merde
,” he muttered as he left his suitcase in the entryway and flopped down on the bed.

Build something? Did he
want
to build something? He’d just gotten out of the worst relationship of his life. It was madness—sheer lunacy—to even contemplate something serious with Kate English. He scrunched his eyes tightly closed and listened to his sharp, jerky draw of breath before opening his eyes and staring at the ceiling.

“Build something,” he mumbled, rubbing his hand over his jaw and feeling his chest tighten with panic as he thought about her words, “
Maybe. I don’t know.”

Because deep inside, Étienne
did
know. He’d known all along. No one had ever compared to Kate. It’s just that for so long he’d believed a future with Kate was impossible…and he’d given up on the possibility of ever being with her again. Thinking about her face in the hallway, the fierce passion of their kiss in the cab, the way she touched his heart like no one had ever been able to…the only thing that was completely impossible was to hold on to some ridiculous idea about staying single when he had a chance to be with the love of his life.

And something else…he’d let his desire overcome reason when he told her he didn’t care what happened…he’d never truly be able to trust Kate unless he understood why she walked away. He needed answers just as badly as she did, and then he intended to strip her down and pick up exactly where they left off. But to survive their conversation…he needed a cold shower first.

Sitting up, he loosened his tie and reached for his shoes, pulling them off. He was down to his boxers when his phone started buzzing. Inclined to ignore it so he could keep his mind focused on the important talk he was about to have with Kate, he picked it up quickly to silence the ringer when he caught a glimpse of the name on the screen: Amy. Amy Colson.

His eyes widened, and he gasped softly before throwing the phone down on the bed like it was on fire. He stared at it like a snake as it continued to buzz, his heart rate speeding up as he wondered why the hell his crazy ex-girlfriend was suddenly calling him after almost two months. And damn it if curiosity didn’t get the better of him.

He picked up the phone and pressed talk.

“Amy?”

A loud, ragged sniffle. Then, “T-Ten?”

She was crying. He’d answered the phone a million times to Amy’s tears, and out of habit he sat down on the bed, resting his elbows on his knees and bending his head forward. “Amy? You okay?”

“N-no.”

Étienne took a deep breath, reminding himself that Kate was two doors down the hallway and he was having the most important lunch of his life with her in twenty-five minutes. Still, he was so conditioned to care for Amy, he couldn’t just dismiss her and hang up.

“Amy, I’m in the middle of—”

“I’m so s-s-sorry!” she wailed. “Can you ever f-forgive me?”

“It’s fine,” he said, assuming she was talking about how she had gotten engaged in Japan. “I’m glad you found someone. I just want you to be happy.”

“Well, I’m n-o-o-o-o-t! K-Ken broke things off. He w-went back to T-Tokyo. Ten, I n-need you,” she sobbed, hiccupping intermittently as she explained. “You were always th-there for me. You always c-came b-back to me.”

“Amy,” he breathed. “I’m not coming back this time.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m in love with someone else,” he said softly, the blessed relief of the truth making him feel calm and certain.

“Who?” she demanded in a surprisingly un-hiccupy voice.

He stood, limped to the window, and looked through the sheer curtains at the afternoon sun. “You don’t know her.”