Natural Blond Instincts (11 page)

“Hell if I know.”

She went still, her eyes on his. “I can't do this if we don't know.”

Right. She couldn't do this if he didn't know. But he couldn't if he did. Drawing a deep breath, he slowly moved to his feet, offered her a hand. “You're a mess.”

Kenna searched his face, then slowly added a smile. “You're a bigger one.”

Wasn't that the truth.

A
FTER THAT
,
Kenna spent whatever spare time she had at the Teen Zone. It wasn't much because she worked hard at the hotel, harder than she could have ever imagined. But at Sarah's, she could
de
stress. She felt useful and she enjoyed the company. As for the kids…well, being with them did something for her, too, something deep inside. In a way she'd never imagined possible, she liked herself when she was there. She forgot her problems, and instead concentrated on others.

In fact, she felt far more…satisfied being there than she did at her
paying
job, which she knew she'd have to think about.

But with a good five months left on her verbal contract with her father, there wasn't much she could do for now. She'd made a promise and didn't plan to renege on it.

The days flew by, and before she knew it, the next board meeting was nearly upon them. It was to be held at the Los Angeles property, and all the man
agement of all the hotels were required to attend. It was an overnight affair, but what had Kenna sweating was the actual meeting.

Wes had finished his report on the status of the new hotel. It was sharp, to the point and brilliant—she knew because he'd given her a copy. He'd also asked about her report, twice, but though they'd talked about it and what she was working on, she hadn't yet showed him, because she hadn't finished. In a move completely unlike her, she'd drafted three different versions and thrown each away.

But playing time was over. For days she'd been working, refusing to allow herself to delete a thing. She'd added up everything she'd considered wrong with the acquisition—the bonuses, for example—and then come up with what she considered better uses of that money, such as on-site daycare, referral services for various counseling needs and additional benefits such as employee discounts at sister hotels in other cities. She researched those costs and other choices as well.

On the morning before they all left for Los Angeles, Serena poked her head into Kenna's office, looked around at the small, cramped space and shuddered. “You really do need a designer.”

“Hey, you're the one who gave me this space.”

“It was a joke, dear cousin. You were supposed to
get all pissy and demand a bigger place, and generally be a pain in your father's ass so he'd think you weren't worth the time he'd given you.”

“Ah.” Kenna couldn't quite help her smile. “Bummer that I didn't fall in line then, isn't it?”

“Yes, so would you start paying attention while I'm manipulating you? Are you ready to go to L.A. or what?”

Kenna carefully gathered her papers and stapled them together. She was officially finished. “Yes.”

“You should know, tonight is the night I plan to try to coax Wes into bed. I requested a suite with a hot tub. Ever had sex in a hot tub?”

As Kenna didn't care who Wes slept with, she firmly contributed her sudden stomachache to hunger. “Nope.”

“It's an amazing experience.”

Okay, she cared. Slapping down her stapler, she looked up into Serena's smug face. “And I want to hear this because?”

“Because you're
not
getting sex in a hot tub tonight.”

“What about Josh?”

Serena's smile vanished. “What about him?”

“I think there's something between you two.”

“Bite your tongue. He's a computer nerd.”

“He's smart and funny. You'd be good for each
other. You'd soften his rough edges and he'd—”
He'd soften yours.
“He'd love you just as you've always wanted to be loved.”

“You've been drinking, right? A little Bloody Mary with breakfast?”

“I mean it.”

Serena took a step backward. “You have no idea what you're talking about.”

“I've seen you, Serena, when you didn't realize…and you know what? You watch him. He watches you, too.”

Looking shell-shocked, Serena sank to a chair. “He wouldn't give me the time of day.”

“Are you on crack? The guy has a serious crush, Serena.”

“But…I've not been particularly kind.”

“Well, start.”

“But I like my not-particularly-kind self.” Serena stood. “Besides, we're not suited at all, of course we're not. Wes is the man for me.”

She was gone before Kenna could say a word, not that she'd say the only words that might have stopped her cousin.

The words that said maybe, just maybe, Wes was the man for Kenna.

 

K
ENNA ENTERED
the fabulous Los Angeles Mallory two hours later, at eleven o'clock. The place was a
palace of glass and exotic plants, with amazing lighting, and again, the trademark antiques everywhere.

But Kenna didn't see any of that as she checked in. Because her report was burning a hole in her bag, and because the meeting wasn't until four, she asked which room Wes was in. Then she dropped her things off in her room—all except her report—and immediately went back out again. It was time to talk to him.

In front of Wes's door, she drew in a deep breath, glanced at her watch and knocked.

“Hang on,” he said through his door. After a minute it opened a crack. No glasses in sight, he peered out, squinting. “Kenna?”

He wore only a towel, which was a bit of a shock. His hair and body were damp. A drop of water ran down his throat to his chest. Another drop slid over his ribs to the flattest belly she'd ever seen, dipping into his belly button before continuing its trail lower, disappearing into the towel to regions hidden.

At the thought of those regions, her knees actually knocked together.

And she forgot all about her report. Forgot why she stood there, tongue hanging out.

Stay on track.
His body—perfect as it was—was not the issue. But suddenly she forgot the issue altogether.

Luckily he hadn't forgotten anything. He looked at the papers in her hand. “What's that?”

She forced her eyes upward, past his body and into his eyes. “Um…”

“Your report? You finally going to let me look at it? Well, come on in, then.”

He hadn't unpacked, his bag was on the floor in the bathroom, which was still steamy from his shower. She tossed the report to the dresser. “Sorry to catch you at a bad time. Wes—”

“What?”

“Um…” she tried not to look at him and failed. “Seeing you half naked is weird.”

“Weird like ‘yuck put your clothes on' or weird like ‘whoa, baby, I don't think I can keep my hands off you'?”

She laughed. How was it he always made her laugh? “Definitely choice B.”

He looked at her, squinted, then grabbed his glasses. As he put them on, their gazes caught in the mirror over the dresser. Caught and held.

“Okay,” he said. “And now here's another multiple choice question. Is this A, pure lust, or B, mingled in with say…a general affection?”

She lifted her gaze from his chest. “Again, I have to go with B.”

He smiled, and it made her so dizzy she backed up, looking for a seat. Her thighs hit the mattress and she sank to it.

He took another step and his legs bumped her knees.

He didn't look like an important, successful VP at the moment, he looked like a bronzed, pagan god. His chest had a patch of dark hair that looked soft. She wanted to touch. His thighs were taut and powerful. She wanted to touch them, too.

And between them, at just her eye level, behind the white towel, was an interesting bulge that made her mouth go dry.

“Just one more question.” He bent over her, putting his free hand—the one not holding up his towel—against her right hip, caging her in with his broad shoulders, his beautiful, rugged face on a plane with hers.

If he straightened, she'd be just about mouth level with his—

Don't go there.

“Are you enjoying the view? Wishing you were wearing just a towel, too?”

“All of the above,” she whispered. His eyes were dark and full of such heat. She knew hers were, too,
and also surprise because maybe she'd been blind, but she hadn't expected to feel like this about him.

Or maybe, more honestly, she'd known it all along and just hadn't wanted to admit it.

“
I'm
sure as hell enjoying the view,” he whispered. “Of you on my bed.” He tossed his glasses aside. Apparently he didn't need to see for this. His hands cupped her face, tilted it up for his mouth, which she met more than halfway.

A part of her wanted to look down, to see if his towel had slipped away, but then his tongue met hers, danced in a rhythm that made her hips arch up, seeking that contact with his. She wanted this, craved it and reached for him.

He kissed her again and again, stealing what little breath she had left. His mouth was as firm as the rest of him, and when he finally lifted his head, she was halfway to orgasmic bliss, from just a kiss. Needing his hands back on her, needing him deep inside her, she squirmed, but he just looked at her.

So she bit the hard sinew of his shoulder.

“That way, then?” he murmured, and she found herself flat on her back, arms over her head, staring up into one hundred and eighty pounds of aroused muscle.

“Um…hi,” she said.

“Hi. You wanted me to hurry?” He dipped his head to her breast.

“Yes, please.”

“I don't like to rush.” Through the silk of her blouse, he pulled her into his mouth, and when her nipple instantly hardened, he very gently nipped at it with his teeth.

The low, hoarse sound that jerked from her throat might have mortified her in its clear neediness, if she hadn't already been so far gone.

He simply continued his assault on her body and senses, only now he nuzzled his way between the buttons of her blouse, and when one gave way, he nosed aside the material to kiss the slope of her other breast, grazing that nipple as well. Then, diving beneath the lacy cup of her bra, began to suckle.

Kenna arched up, writhing beneath him, making dark, horribly needy whimpers she couldn't contain. Her blouse was open to him now, spread wide so that he could touch her at will.

“I've wanted to see this,” he murmured, dipping his tongue to her navel, and the little gold ring she had there. One of his hands roamed down her belly, over her thighs to her calves, then slowly back up, beneath the material of her skirt. Her legs fell open, needing his touch on the part of her throbbing with every single heartbeat, but he merely stroked his
fingers over her inner thighs until she thought she would die.

Just an inch to the right,
she thought desperately,
move those fingers an inch to the right.

He didn't.

Maybe he'd get there by accident, and she scooted, arched, urged, needing that one little stroke to explode.

His tantalizing fingers dancing closer, just a little closer…

She thrust her hips upward, on a shameless mission now—

“Kenna.”

Don't talk, just…do!

“Kenna.”

“What?”

“Open your eyes.”

They flew open, locked on his dark, dark gaze.

“Watch,” he whispered, and stroked her over her wet panties.

With her eyes open she could see his face. His intense expression. The sheen of his skin. The huge erection bouncing free since he'd lost his towel.

He
did
have a care in the world. A very big one.

“Now,” he whispered, and slipped a finger beneath her panties, unerringly stroking the one spot designed to make her go wild.

She did. She went wild. Colors exploded behind her eyes, blinding her. She went deaf, too, but not mute, and when she sobbed out his name, he towered over her, kissing her back to earth. She was halfway back, still shuddering, still clinging to him, totally shell-shocked, when there came a knock at the door.

“Wes?”

Serena.

“Shh,” Wes whispered. “Maybe she'll go away.”

“Wes? Open up.”

He still had his mouth on her throat, still had his fingers—
No!
Kenna leaped to her feet, staggered, nearly toppled over, then managed to gather herself.

He reached for her, regret and frustration in every line of his face. “Are you okay?”

Okay?
No! She was not okay, she'd just had an earth-moving, heart-tugging, mind-blowing orgasm and she wanted another, thank you very much. But she couldn't because her
cousin
was standing on the other side of the door waiting to seduce this guy with the magic fingers into bed. “Sure. I'm fine.” Still trembling, she stumbled to the bathroom and locked herself in.

Not exactly mature, but it was hard to think with
all the blood in her entire body pooled and throbbing between her legs.

“Wes?” Serena knocked again.

“Goddammit,” Kenna heard him swear before she heard the sound of him whipping open the room door.

Given that she'd just realized all his clothes were in the bathroom, she sure hoped he'd found his towel. Otherwise, Serena's seduction plans were going to be a cakewalk.

W
EARING A BLACK SUIT
and looking ready to rumble, Serena pushed her way in when Wes opened the door. “Weston Roth, what the hell is wrong with you? I've done everything but tear off your clothes to get you to notice me, but apparently you're a little slow on the uptake, so let me spell it out for you—Oh.” Her jaw dropped open as she took him in.
“Oh.”

Wes winced at his state of undress and the towel he held to the front of him. He hadn't meant for her to storm her way in, he'd just wanted her to stop knocking and go away. Since he could feel a breeze on his bare butt, he backed to the dresser, and for his effort got a drawer handle in a very bad spot. “I'm busy, Serena.” He'd left the door open in an invitation for her to leave.

“You're…wow.” She eyed him from chest to toes, then back up again.

“Serena—” He stepped back so hard the drawer handle became his new best friend.

“Wes…” She leaned in. “Did you hear the
I want you
part of my speech?”

“Yes, Serena, he heard.” This from a grim Josh, who walked into the room.

Wes's room,
which had turned into Grand Central Station.

Josh took one look at Wes and let out a low laugh. “I see you have a problem.” Then he turned back to Serena. He took her shoulders in his hands and hauled her up on her toes, only an inch from his mouth. “And here's mine—”

“Now, you wait just a minute—”

“Shut up, Serena.” He spoke gently, still holding her. “Now, the way I see it, you have a little attention deficit disorder you never outgrew. You aren't getting any good hot sex, and it makes you trouble personified. Well, guess what? I've got a deal for you.”

“Put me down.”

“Nope.” Josh tossed Wes a look over his shoulder. “You want to give me a minute here?”

“I would, but I have another little problem in the bathroom.”

“Like?”

“Like it's currently being held hostage, along with all my clothes, by another fairly agitated woman.”

Josh stared at him, then grinned. “Oh man, you always did get all the fun.”

“Could we hurry this along by any chance?” Wes growled.

“Right.” Josh turned back to the squirming Serena, who clearly was not used to being manhandled. “Okay, listen up, we have to put this into high gear on account of my brother and his woman dilemma. You want attention from a man? I've got plenty. You want a man who knows where he's going and what he's doing? I'm him. You want someone who will be crazy about you, and never, ever, fail you?” He set her on her feet and slipped his arms around her. “I'm that man, Serena.”

She went very still. “What?”

“I think you heard me. I might not be president of the hotel, or even VP, but I have a job with lots of potential and I'm damned smart. And every bit as ambitious as you are. We're a match made in heaven, baby.”

She shook her head, so bewildered she apparently forgot to keep fighting him. In fact, she fisted her hands in his shirt and hauled him closer. “Say it again.”

“All of it?”

“Yes,” she demanded. “Please?”

Josh's smile was dazzling. “I'm crazy about you.
Now, you say that you think we have a shot and let's get out of here. My poor brother has issues, and if I'm not mistaken, a dresser attachment disorder.”

Wes fully expected Serena to bite Josh's head off. Instead she smiled demurely.
Sweetly.
“I think we could have a shot.”

Josh kissed her hard and long, which might have gone on forever if Wes hadn't cleared his throat.

“Right.” Josh grinned, and herded Serena out of the room.

Wes locked the door and stormed to the bathroom. “Open up, Kenna.”

She cracked the door. She'd buttoned herself up again, very neatly. A shame. He'd have to undo it again. He dropped his towel and muscled his way in, tugging her out of the bathroom and to the bed.

She went with such ease, he knew it was what she wanted, so he followed her body down with his. With one wrench, he separated the material of her blouse. Buttons flew.

“Um—”

Unclasping her bra, he drew both that and the blouse off her shoulders. “There. That's a little better.”

She gasped as his mouth came down on one of the breasts he'd bared, then she writhed helplessly under the erotic assault.

He slid off her skirt, then her panties, leaving her as naked as he. “Now,” he said, triumphant, towering over her.

“Do you think Serena and Josh are—”

“Yep. And with any justice at all, so are we.”

She stared at his mouth. “Wes—”

His mouth covered hers because he didn't want to hear why this wasn't their smartest move. He already knew, he knew every reason intimately and didn't care. He wanted to lose himself in the heat, in the need, in the moment, feeling as blindsided by her now as he had the very first day she'd marched into his life.

They kissed for long moments, and he felt the most intense hunger he'd ever experienced. Intending to satisfy that hunger, he slid down her body and kissed her from head to toe until they were both shaking.

“Now,” she gasped.

Condom. He needed one. “Uh…hold that thought.” He staggered into the bathroom, groping through his bag, inadvertently dumping it to the floor. Damn it. Finally, snatching up a little foil packet, he tore it open on the way back to the bed. “Where were we?”

“If you've forgotten, you have serious ADD.”

He laughed. He didn't understand how he could
want her so badly his entire body shook, but the wanting filled his very being. Getting the condom on turned out to be a bit tricky, as he could hardly see straight, but he managed, then lifted her hips and finally, finally sank into her body.

Her body was hot and tight, and he felt his toes curl from just his first thrust. With all his might, he tried to make it last. He thought about the quarterlies, the money he'd lost in the stock market,
anything,
but with a high, thready sound, Kenna shattered in his arms, and that was it. He shattered, too.

For long moments afterward, he continued to quiver like a baby, and actually, it was extremely possible he'd died and gone to heaven.

But then her arms banded more tightly around him, cutting off his air, making his chest hurt.

Nope, definitely still alive.

He rolled with her so that he lay flat on his back, with her curled at his side, and braced himself for that usual after-sex smothered feeling.

It didn't come. Something else, another feeling entirely, came instead. It'd happened without his realizing it, but it
had
happened. He wanted to be with her.

He reminded himself they were too different. She was whimsical, fanciful. Happy to just…be.

He was driven, hungry and ambitious.

And full of crap.

Fact was, he'd never had a good handle on Kenna. She might be fanciful and whimsical, but she worked hard, too. And she had plenty of drive and passion.

He had the Teen Zone memories as proof of that.

So did he…had he actually, maybe fallen—

“Wes?”

“Yeah?”

“I didn't sleep with you so you'd put our reports together.”

He laughed.

She didn't.

With a sigh, he looked into her face. “If I'd thought so, we wouldn't have done this.”

“I just wanted to say it.”

“Well…thank you.”

She sat up. “I've got to go get ready.”

But he wanted round two. “So…later, then?”

She looked startled. “Later what?”

“Later…more.”

“Oh. Um…”

He ignored his heart shriveling, along with other parts of him as she bent for her clothes, her cute, edible little butt wiggling as she shimmied into her panties. “I'll take that as a no.” He got to his feet,
thinking he should have stuck to his usual routine after sex and gone to sleep.

She found her blouse, swore when she remembered the torn buttons. Tossing it down, she went into the bathroom and the bag he'd dumped on the floor, rummaging until she came up with one of his shirts. Shoving her arms in, she hauled her skirt over her hips, shimmying a little to get everything tucked in, belatedly finding her bra. That got stuffed in her pocket. “Wes…”

He looked into her eyes and saw a surprising amount of nerves. “It's okay,” he said. “It's going to be okay.”

“Are you sure?”

Hell, no. “Absolutely.”

She headed toward the door, in
his
shirt, for the second time in an hour fully dressed to his being completely naked.

“See you at the meeting,” he said. “I'll bring the reports.”

She looked back at him. “You don't have to bring mine.”

“Shut up, Kenna.”

“I just meant that this—” She gestured to the bed. “And that—” She looked at the report she'd left on his dresser. “They're not all tied up together or anything.”

“Look, I know that
this
—” He jerked his chin to the bed. “And
that
—” And then the report on the dresser. “Aren't tied up.”

She nodded in relief and left.

And then he was alone, wondering how the hell was it that he'd been ditched, when he hadn't even known he wanted both
this
and
that
in the first place.

 

W
ELL
,
SHE'D DONE IT
, hadn't she? She'd finally caved in to the attraction between her and Wes, and what had it gotten her? A perfect orgasm.

Two, in fact.

In her own room she showered and dressed, then stalked downstairs with moments to spare before the board meeting. The conference room was set up with food and drinks, but she'd lost her appetite.

What had she done? She'd mixed business and pleasure, and how.
That's
what she'd done. How in the world had this happened? She felt…so misdirected. Lost.

Alone.

Stupid.

“Kenna.”

Whirling, she faced the man who only a little while before had had her whimpering and begging him to finish her off.

He was solemn now, his mouth tight, his eyes tired and tense behind his glasses.

He was holding her report. “You okay?” he asked.

She started to nod, then slowly shook her head. “I feel…a little mixed up.”

“Like you were hit by a truck?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, I felt the same way. Until I thought about it.” He looked at her for a long moment. “We started out pretty adversarial, didn't we?”

“Pretty much, yes.”

“But it didn't stay that way,” he said. “I'd like to think we've built a mutual respect, even a friendship.”

“What just happened wasn't about respect or friendship.”

“But it was good.” He smiled, and her heart tipped on its side.

Thank God she'd finally gotten it right and worn waterproof mascara.

“It doesn't have to be so complicated, Kenna.”

Right. It didn't.

He held out her report. “Let's start here, only because we have to. Are you ready for this?”

“Why? Do I have something to do in there other than be Mr. Mallory's daughter?”

“You don't like being your father's daughter?”

“Sure. Outside the boardroom.”

His gaze caressed her face. “Your report is good. Go for it in there.”

She looked around to make sure no one was listening. “Are you sure that's not the sex talking?” she whispered.

He looked shocked. “What? I thought you said these were two separate issues.”

“Just checking. I mean, if you say the report's good, then…you get more sex later, right?”

He grinned. “Would that actually work?”

She had to laugh. “I'm not too ashamed to say yeah, it would work, but tell me it's not so anyway.”

“It's not.” He lost the grin and went serious. “Do it, Kenna. Go in there and do your thing. You're good at it.”

“I am.” She looked at the food spread. There were chocolate doughnuts. Good. She needed one. Two. This was definitely going to be a two-doughnut meeting.