Meddling with a Millionaire (8 page)

She didn't have time to be distracted. With three weeks until the show, she would need to be focused on her jewelry every second. That meant no thinking about a certain handsome millionaire businessman who drove her crazy in every possible way.

Shaking her head, Emma told her traitorous pulse to settle down and picked up her pencil once more. Sometime later, her phone began to ring, waking her out of a creative fog. As the call rolled to voice mail, she sifted through all the new designs she'd come up with and smiled.

Her stomach growled, so she headed into the kitchen to heat up the leftovers of Nathan's soup for lunch. While she ate, Emma gazed around the outdated cabinets and appliances. She'd heard a great deal of criticism from everyone who'd seen the loft, but despite all the negative comments, Emma loved the space—imperfections and all—and the possibilities it represented.

She'd bought it a year ago, loving the high ceilings and the industrial feel of the exposed ductwork and brick walls. The front door opened into a large space she used as a combination
living room and dining room. Shortly before she'd moved in, she'd had the hardwood floors refinished and they gleamed as they stretched across the inviting space. She'd furnished the living room with a comfortable gray couch and two blue armchairs the shade of Texas bluebonnets. The same blue broke up the expanse of white walls in the form of landscape photographs.

Her phone rang again as she washed her bowl and glass by hand. The dishwasher had died two months ago. Yet another thing that needed fixing.

She let this call go to voice mail as well. She guessed it was Nathan calling to badger her about moving in with him again. Well, that wasn't going to happen.

Returning to her workroom, she surveyed her equipment and the supplies scattered around the space. It would take her a day or more to get everything organized to move. She didn't have that much time to waste.

Nathan was just going to have to accept that she wasn't going to pack and she wasn't going to move. He wasn't her boss.

With a dismissive snort, she returned to her project and banished a tall, hunky millionaire from her mind.

 

“What do you mean she refuses to go anywhere?” Nathan barked into his cell phone. The mover he'd hired sputtered excuses as Nathan strode through Case Consolidated Holdings' parking garage toward his car. Two days ago his contractor had told her it was dangerous for her to remain in the loft, exposed to the mold.

Stubborn woman. He'd been all set to head home and find Emma all settled in, only to hear that she continued to defy him.

Nathan unlocked his car and tossed in his briefcase, breathing deeply to calm down. He was taking his frustrations
out on the wrong person. “Why don't you guys grab dinner on me while I sort every thing out?”

Ten minutes later he advanced down the hallway toward her loft. When Emma answered his impatient summons, she actually looked surprised to see him. Then, a mutinous expression settled over her beautiful face.

“What are you doing here?”

Despite her unfriendly question, his nerve endings sizzled and popped. She'd pulled her long, dark hair into a ponytail. Worn denim hugged her hips and a baggy sweater dipped off one golden shoulder, baring a purple bra strap.

He leaned his shoulder against the wall, realizing that he'd rather hear “no” from her than “yes” from any other woman.

“Nice to see you, too,” he purred. Arguing with her was getting him nowhere. He needed to switch tactics. “Get changed. I'm taking you to dinner.”

“I don't have—”

“Time. Yes, I know. But you have to eat, and I doubt there's anything edible in your refrigerator. Take a little break. You'll feel more up to working when you get back.”

“And spend the whole meal being bullied by you into doing what you want me to do? No thanks.”

“How about we only talk about the things you're interested in?” He offered her a neutral smile.

“No badgering?” she prompted. “No attempts at persuasion?”

He raised his right hand as if he was swearing in a court of law. “None.”

“Oh, all right,” she muttered ungraciously. “Give me a couple minutes to change.”

While Emma retreated into her bedroom, Nathan called the movers and gave them new instructions.

For two days, he'd spent a good chunk of his time imagining the changes she would make in his life. His decision to
marry her might have been born out of necessity, but lately he found himself thinking less about business and more about pleasure.

Unfortunately, standing in the way of those days and nights of unbridled passion was her stubbornness and this ridiculous wager with her father that she couldn't hope to win.

There was no way she could put the money back in her account by Valentine's Day, but that wouldn't stop her from trying. And he had his own deadline to worry about. He'd convinced his brothers to give him until the middle of February to secure the deal with Montgomery Oil. He couldn't do that without marrying Emma. The best way to do that was to make sure she had no way to win her wager. And the best way to do that would be to keep her too busy to work.

His groin stirred at the notion of all the things he would do to her once he moved her under his roof. She'd been without a decent bathroom for quite a while. Wait until she set eyes on the whirlpool tub in his master bathroom. It was made for long, romantic soaks. With candles burning, he'd even let her put bubble bath in the water. Hell, he'd do whatever it took to encourage her to join him.

He was still grinning ten minutes later when she crossed the living room toward him, her hips swaying in that natural motion that drove him crazy.

She'd donned a narrow, caramel-colored skirt with a wide ruffle that kissed her knees and a blouse of cream lace that revealed flirtatious hints of her creamy skin. Her brown hair had been twisted into a loose knot atop her head. She carried a brown velvet jacket that matched the color of her eyes.

“Where to?” she asked, fastening intricately woven earrings of gold wire studded with green freshwater pearls to her earlobes. They tapped against her neck, drawing Nathan's attention to the tender, sensitive skin.

“It's a surprise,” he answered.

She didn't press him for details as he took her keys and
inserted them in the dead-bolt lock. She didn't utter a word until they were in his car, heading away from downtown. Then, she took hold of the conversational reins and steered them toward a safe topic.

“How do you like working with your brothers?”

“That question might take me all night to answer,” he retorted.

“We don't have all night,” she reminded him. “So you'd better get started now.”

“We could have all night.”

As her gaze played hide-and-seek with his from beneath her long bangs, he tightened his grip on the steering wheel to resist the urge to brush the sable locks away from her eyes. He had the crazy idea that if he looked deep enough, he would find that they wanted the same things, only she was too afraid to admit it.

“How long have you worked at Case Consolidated Holdings?” she asked, avoiding being pulled into flirting with him.

For the moment Nathan gave up trying to provoke her into a sexy repartee. He knew two ways to convince her that marriage between them made sense: to get to know her better and to get her back into bed. Since the latter was out of the question at the moment, he decided to focus on something that held equal appeal, making a connection.

“Six months.”

“What did you do before that?”

So it was to be the third degree. Nathan split his attention between the road and the sexy lady sitting beside him. “I was in New York.”

“That answers where you were, not what you were doing.”

“I was making money in the stock market and attending auctions.”

“Is that where you learned so much about art?”

“I had some good teachers. One woman I met loved the galleries and supported quite a few new artists. She had an eye for gifted young talent.”

Emma hummed knowingly. “And were you one of the talented young men she had an eye for?”

“Are you asking if we were lovers?” he asked, amused by her perception of him as an innocent youth being corrupted by an older, more experienced woman. “No. She wasn't my type. I like curvy brunettes, remember?”

“And she wasn't either of those things?”

“No, Madeline had the look of a half-starved jungle cat. And she could be equally dangerous. Lucky for me she took a shine to my Texas accent and deep pockets. We were great friends. She had a ball trying to polish all my rough edges.”

“I can't picture you in New York.”

She squinted at him as if trying to put him in different clothes. He'd prefer if she'd just strip him out of the ones he currently had on. That pesky desire stirred again.

“I didn't blend in well,” he agreed.

“Is that why you left?”

“No, I left because my father had a heart attack earlier this year and his doctor told him if he didn't slow down, the next one might kill him. He asked me to come work with Sebastian and Max. He thinks all three Case brothers belonged at the company our grandfather built.” A thread of self-disgust ran through his explanation. “They certainly belong there. However, they're not convinced that I do.”

“And why is that?”

He looked askance at her, wondering how much she knew about him. “Sebastian and Max are my half brothers.”

“Cody said your father was having an affair with your mother and that you came to live with your father and half brothers after she died.”

Just like that, his past was on the table, and his illegitimacy didn't seem to bother Emma one bit. “I was twelve when she
died. Sebastian and Max weren't exactly thrilled to find out they had a half brother.”

“I'm sure it was hard on all of you.” There was understanding in her voice and comfort in the hand that covered his. “I'm sorry you lost your mom so young.”

Something unraveled in his chest. Her sympathy exposed a place he'd walled up the day his mother died, a place he guarded against intruders. For a split second he wanted to share with her how much it had hurt to lose the one person in the world who'd loved him.

Instead, he shrugged.

“My brothers made my life hell. I moved out when I turned eighteen, kept moving after college.”

“I'm surprised you came back after all these years.”

“I wouldn't have if Dad hadn't called me.”

Her eyes narrowed as she gazed his way. “I think there's more to it than that.”

Did she see how much he wanted to best his brothers? To wipe Max's smirk right off his face and know he was responsible for the defeat in Sebastian's eyes?

“Maybe I want a chance to prove they've been wrong about me all these years. To make them admit I'm the one who should be running the family business. That's why this deal with your dad is so important.”

Her hand fell away from his. Watching her knit her fingers in her lap, Nathan knew he shouldn't have resurrected the idea that his reasons for pursuing her were more practical than personal. But her compassion had touched a tender spot, and he'd flinched.

Nathan passed a semi and returned to the right lane. Time to change the subject. “How did you get into jewelry making?”

“I have a degree in sculpture from the University of Houston. I knew I wanted to make jewelry from the time I was six and I got one of those bead kits for Christmas. I drove
everyone crazy with my necklaces and bracelets. I made one for my father. He even wore it once.”

Nathan tried to imagine Silas Montgomery, the stiff, forceful businessman, wearing a necklace of bright-colored plastic beads around his neck. “So that's how you know so much about early Texas artists. I'm assuming your curriculum included a little art history.”

“It did. But you've made me realize that I need to expand my knowledge base.”

“I'd be happy to take you to an auction at Sotheby's. We could retrace my plunge into the dissolute world of art collecting.”

“A trip to New York to gallery-hop.” Her voice softened with longing. “That sounds like heaven.”

Nathan glanced at her and wished he hadn't. The dreamy expression on her face reminded him of how she'd looked moments before her friend had interrupted them. His chest tightened. His groin stirred. And he heaved a sigh.

Tonight, whether she was ready for it or not, he was going to make something memorable happen.

E
mma watched Nathan navigate the Houston traffic and tried to harden her heart against the lost boy she'd glimpsed a moment earlier. An impossible task now that she understood a little bit more about what made him tick. He wasn't the unfeeling businessman who thought only of money and deals. But that didn't mean he wouldn't ruthlessly stomp all over her heart in pursuit of his agenda. Which meant, the more charming he became, the more she needed to be wary.

“Where are we headed?” she asked, her stomach seizing up with hunger pangs and anxiety.

He'd been a little too nonchalant about her continued determination not to move out of the loft. She knew he'd arrived tonight because she'd stonewalled the men sent to remove her things, but he hadn't mentioned it, and that aroused her suspicions.

“I thought we'd try Mark's American Cuisine.”

Knowing their destination was a public place didn't settle her nerves the way it should have. She'd been convinced he
was taking her to his condo to ply her with red wine and sex appeal until her resistance dissolved. To her immense shock, she was disappointed that he had no such nefarious plans.

“I haven't been there,” she admitted. “But the food is supposed to be wonderful.”

“I hadn't heard about the food,” he said, casting a wry grin her way. “I was taking you there for the ambiance.”

Mark's had been voted Houston's most romantic restaurant. “Is that so?” she quizzed, her tension unraveling beneath his flirtatious smile. “That's so.”

At the restaurant she waited while he came around the car and opened her door. As he pulled her to her feet, her heel caught in a hole. Unbalanced, she stumbled against his long frame. He caught her by the shoulders. Her heart stopped as the heat of his body enveloped her.

He hummed. “You know, we could grab some takeout and head back to my place.”

Now, that was the Nathan she knew and…

“You were bringing me here for the ambiance,” she reminded him, her eyes half closing as his warm breath stroked her cheek.

“My place has a great ambiance. Perfect for just the two of us.”

And she wanted to go. So much. Despite the warnings from her rational side. Giving in now would signal Nathan that he'd won. He'd become even more relentless.

Her earrings tickled her neck as she shook her head. “Now that we're here, nothing could persuade me to leave without tasting Chef Mark's food.”

“What about a chance to taste me?” The dare in his quicksilver-gray eyes touched her like a caress. She trembled.

What madness had led her to believe she could master her
attraction to Nathan? It throbbed in her body like a drumbeat, insistent, steady, increasing to a heady climax.

“You can be dessert,” she whispered.

His eyes widened at her response. “After dinner we'll stop and buy some whipped cream.”

Gulping, she grasped at something to defuse the sudden influx of sexual tension. Teasing him seemed to be the best way. “You don't think you're sweet enough for me?”

His grin blindsided her.

“Not by a long shot.”

Emma gave him a shaky smile in return and lifted onto the balls of her feet to kiss him on the chin. “Then bring on the whipped cream.”

“Dammit, woman,” he muttered, guiding her inside the restaurant. “How the hell am I supposed to enjoy dinner when all I can think about is dessert?”

He sounded as disturbed as she felt. Emma's head spun at the notion that she had some power over him. He wasn't completely in control. Knowing that leveled the playing field a bit and relaxed her.

“You'll just have to manage,” she said, squeezing his arm. “This is beautiful.”

Located in a renovated church, the restaurant lived up to its reputation for romantic dining. The soaring cathedral ceiling, awash in golden light, arched over candlelit tables with white tablecloths and elegant place settings. A graceful staircase curved upward to what had once been the choir loft, now open to the tables below and edged with simple wrought-iron railing. The ceiling's line was echoed in the detailing above the doorways, drawing the eye upward.

The dining experience was everything she expected it to be. Won over by the candlelight, her charismatic dinner companion and way too much food, Emma set down her fork and spread her fingers over her stomach.

“That was delicious,” she said, feeling sleepy despite
turning down the wine Nathan had ordered. Although the evening had taken on an enchanted glow, she needed to return to her loft and get back to work. Alcohol would have made that task impossible. “I can't recall the last time I ate so much.”

“I have to admit, I do enjoy watching you eat. There's something so very sexy about it.”

She made a face at him.

“Did you save room for dessert?” their waiter asked.

Emma welcomed his arrival because it kept her from having to answer Nathan. “I'm afraid I couldn't eat another bite.”

Then she remembered her earlier dessert conversation with Nathan and her cheeks warmed. She glanced his way. A silver flame kindled in his eyes. Despite the large amount of food he'd consumed, there remained a hungry look about him. He appeared ready to devour her. A slow, steady heat crept through her, moving with determination to the parts of her most vulnerable to the persuasive power of desire.

“About dessert,” she began, sounding unsteady and breathless.

The way his eyes slid over her made her quake. Traitorous longings weakened her resolve to go back to work tonight. Nathan Case, covered in whipped cream, was too much temptation for her to resist. And Emma had never been one to deny herself something she wanted. Hence, her current predicament.

She cleared her throat and tried again. “I really have a lot of work to do tonight. I should get back to my loft. There's so much to be done for the show. I'm starting with almost no inventory. The more pieces I make, the more I will have to sell and the better the show will go.” She was babbling, but stopping the words from flowing off her tongue was nearly impossible, pierced as she was by those quicksilver eyes dancing with carnal promises.

“I understand,” he said. “As long as you promise to give me a rain check on dessert.”

With his hand warm on the small of her back, Emma let him guide her between the tables and out the door. “I'm not sure if a rain check is such a good idea.”

As they waited for the valet to bring the car around, Nathan turned her toward him and cupped her upper arms in his hands. “Shh. Don't say something you'll regret.”

Amusement fought with annoyance at his arrogance. She was trying not to
do
something she would regret.

Suddenly, Emma wondered why she was resisting the pull between them. Maybe she should just get him out of her system, and let him get her out of his. Then this business of her father's could dry up like a creek bed during a drought.

Once they were in Nathan's car, he turned left out of the parking lot instead of making the right that would take them back toward her loft. Emma got that funny feeling in her stomach again.

“Where are we going?”

“I thought we'd swing by my condo so I can return your earrings,” he said as if this hadn't been his plan all along. “You said you wanted them back.”

To claim otherwise would make him wonder why she was so skittish about the detour. Maybe he had no ulterior motives. Emma glanced at Nathan's profile. His lips had softened into a sensual curve. Excitement raced along her nerves as she recognized his expression. Oh, he definitely had ulterior motives.

Her breath shortened as anticipation seized her. Struggling to quell her body's thrumming need, she tore her attention from Nathan and watched the city slide by her window. By the time he drew up in front of his house, she was a tangled mess of sizzling hormones.

“Can't I just wait here while you get them?” she asked as he opened her car door. “I really have work to do.”

He shook his head and held out his hand. With a gusty sigh, Emma let him pull her from the car. He slid his palm into the small of her back as they crossed the elegant lobby and ascended in the elevator. Her heart thumped hard enough to hurt as she recalled the last time she'd gone to his condo with him.

If his thoughts ran along the same lines, Emma couldn't tell from his bland expression. She half expected him to close his front door and pin her against it the way he had a month ago. Of course, last time, they'd both known why they'd come to his condo. The chemistry between them had been hot and inescapable. This time, Emma stepped into his foyer with a cooler head.

She didn't realize that she was holding her breath until they reached the condo's main living space. Letting the air flow out of her lungs, she stepped away from Nathan's tempting presence and scanned the room. A leather sectional occupied one end of the large open-concept floor plan; beyond that, a dining table was surrounded by ten chairs.

“What do you think?”

“About what?”

“My home.” He smirked at her. “The last time you were here, we never made it out of the foyer.”

Her cheeks burned as she recalled how he had taken her by storm. His urgency had thrilled her. Never in her life had a man wanted her with such intensity. Half closing her eyes, she relived the sensation of him sliding into her. The memory flushed her skin hot, arousing her.

She took in the view of downtown Houston visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“It's very nice. But I'm not staying. I just came up to get my earrings.”

He circled her like a tomcat on the prowl, his shoulder brushing across her back, his chest grazing her breasts as he
stopped in front of her. Leaning forward, he whispered in her ear, “Are you sure that's the only reason?”

“Of course,” she retorted, all the desire he aroused reducing her voice to a husky rasp. She had to get out of here. But her knees wobbled too much to let her escape.

“Because I was hoping I could get you to stay for a drink,” he said, his hands sliding around her waist.

He nuzzled her neck, zeroing in on the spot that made her gasp. Her nipples tightened into hard beads of sensation. Her breasts felt heavy, ready for his possession. She swayed into his body, sighing as he flattened his palms against her butt, lifting her onto her toes, aligning her curves against his hard planes.

“I really shouldn't,” she told him, her body liquefying as wave after wave of longing washed over her. “I've got work to do.” She was beginning to sound like a broken record.

“Later,” he growled against her lips before flicking his tongue against hers, stealing her breath and her sanity.

Sliding her hands up his chest, she buried her fingers in his hair and held on as he deepened the kiss, plundering her mouth, demanding that she respond without reluctance or hesitation. She surrendered to the hands that molded her body, the fierce seduction of his mouth stripping away her reservations about the lovemaking to come.

Lust ravaged her, destroying her last qualm. Her body belonged to him. He'd proved that the last time. And she trusted that he would be the perfect guide on this excursion into carnal delights.

“Tonight, we're going to do this slowly.” He slipped his lips over her chin, her cheek, her eyes, her nose. “Last time you rushed me. That will not happen again.”

Her head fell back as his teeth nibbled her earlobe. His ministrations ripped an airy giggle from her throat. “Not too slowly, or I might change my mind.”

“I have no worries about that,” he murmured, sounding
smug, the way a man with an armful of wanton woman would.

“Oh, for heaven's sake,” she sighed, rubbing her pelvis against him in restless frustration as his palms kneaded her hips. Only with Nathan did she experience such riotous sensations. “I have so much pressure inside me, I'm going to burst.”

She demonstrated the serious nature of her distress by moving against him in a manner that aroused her more than it eased her suffering. Nathan's mouth collided with hers as their hips began to rock together in a pantomime of what was to come.

“You have no idea what you do to me, Emma.”

His words stoked the flames higher. Emma increased the abandoned gyrations of her body, too caught up in the heady turbulence to want a slow seduction. She knew he wanted their next time together to be in bed, but she was ready to throw him to the couch and straddle him.

Eager to see every gorgeous inch of him, she tugged his shirt free of his trousers, frantic to feel the warm silk of his skin. Nathan eased the pressure on her mouth long enough to aid her.

Together they dispensed with his buttons. With his shirt gone and her fingers against his skin, Emma purred with satisfaction. Urgency became awe as she skimmed the smoothness of his shoulders and the lean brawn beneath.

“You are beautiful.” Hard muscles shifted beneath her exploring caress.

“I've never been called beautiful before.”

“You are,” Emma assured him, trailing her fingers across his chest and boldly tracing the path of rough hair to the place where it disappeared beneath his pants. “Now take everything off.”

Nathan groaned as her provocative words and saucy tone impacted on the one area of his body he couldn't control. If
he had been hard from the moment they'd stepped into the condo, he was ready to burst his seams after that comment.

She leaned forward and stroked her tongue against his collarbone, grazing his shoulder with her teeth.

“You first,” he said. He couldn't trust his voice any more than he could count on controlling the rest of his body.

His desire for her ran fierce and resolute through his veins, but he bound it with relentless control. She deserved a slow, sensual ride. He wanted to bring her the same wild, unbridled pleasure her touch promised him.

“So, let's start with this.” Emma stripped off her jacket and reached for the hem of her lace top, lifting it over her head, disturbing her careless topknot as she did so. She emerged from the cream material and gave her head a vigorous shake.