The Billionaire's Impulsive Lover (The Sisterhood) (7 page)

Claire considered her options. “What if I say no and I go out on my own.”

He looked at her carefully, then shook his head. “You won’t.”

“Why won’t I?”

His smile was slow, and lazy. And sexy as hell, making her stomach muscles clench with both fear and anticipation. He walked around to her side of the granite counter, set her glass down on the ledge, then abruptly pulled her into his arms. “Because you want the adventure only I can give you,” he said a moment before his mouth covered hers in a slow, crazy passionate kiss that made Claire’s toes curl. As his mouth moved over hers, his tongue invaded her mouth, touching her own tongue, his lips sucking on her lips. His hands went from her waist, then pulled her black sweater upwards, his hands touching her bare skin and making her gasp with the pleasure the skin to skin contact created.

It took less than a minute before her arms were wrapped around his shoulders and her legs actually crept up to wrap around his waist.

There was no flash drive to retrieve, no code to build, just his mouth driving her crazy, his touch that inflamed her mind and her own desperate need to touch him just as he was touching her. She wanted to feel his skin, to know if his hair was soft or rough. Her arms reached up, wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer, molding her body against his as the fire increased in intensity, growing so out of bounds that she wasn’t sure where she was anymore. There was only a driving, obsessive need to touch and be touched.

Her fingers stole into his shirt right above the collar and the flames increased as she felt his hot skin under her finger tips, her palm molding against the muscles flexing wherever her hand moved. She cried out when his own hand moved under her sweater to rest on her rib cage and she moved slightly, wanting his hand on her breast.

Claire wanted nothing more than to pull off her clothes and beg him for more. But something was wrong. There was something…burning?

She looked over his shoulder and sure enough, the pan that had been grilling the onions and garlic was now on fire. “Mitch! Your dinner!” she said, pushing against his shoulders in an effort to get him to stop kissing her neck and pay attention.

Mitch looked up, glanced at the fire in the pan and sighed. “A reprieve, Claire?”

Without any concern at all, Mitch set her back down on the stool and walked around the counter. With a flick of his wrists, he turned off the burner, then grabbed a box of something from the cabinet behind him. In less than a moment, the powder he’d doused over the flames had smothered the fire.

“I guess we’re ordering pizza,” he replied, as he gazed down at the black and white mess that used to be their dinner. Carrying the pan to the sink, he turned on the water to soak overnight, not even bothering to try and clean it up now.

Claire’s hands were still shaking, both from the fire as much as from his kisses.

She resented the way he didn’t appear to be affected by their interlude at all. While she sat on the stool shivering in reaction, he calmly walked over to the phone and dialed a number he obviously knew by heart. He spoke quickly into the phone, all the while watching her, gauging her reaction. She knew it and tried to pretend she was just as unaffected as he was, but it was like he had some sort of laser focus and knew that she was shivering.

Gary! She’d completely forgotten about Gary! The shame that swamped her with the complete betrayal of the man she had been dating for two months overwhelmed her. She couldn’t believe she’d been so unfaithful to a man who wasn’t even around for her to confess to.

He hung up the phone and approached her again. Instead of waiting for another sexual advance, one which she might not have something to stop her, she jumped up, grabbing her wine and moved to the other side of the counter. “Why don’t you have any furniture?” she asked, praying he’d take the subject change and not kiss her again.

He stopped and stared at her hard, considering her expression. With a slight nod, and no other expression on his face, he accepted the change of subject, turning around and picking up his glass of wine. “I just haven’t gotten around to it yet,” he said and waved her out of the kitchen. “The pizza will be here in about ten minutes. Come tell me about what you’ve been up to this week.”

Claire sighed with relief, grateful that he was taking her non-verbal body language seriously. She’d give him points for that, but she still wasn’t able to think clearly.

She followed him, but knew she was putting herself in danger. “I really should go,” she said as she stood in the doorway to what she suspected would be a magnificent great room, if he would simply add some furniture, she wasn’t exactly sure. She looked around curiously. “This is a fabulous room,” she said, moving into the room fully and looking around. “Why do you only have…” she stopped and looked at the pieces he had set up. “Mitch, there’s only exercise equipment and a computer in here.”

He looked around as well. “And?”

She glanced at his face, stunned that he was so blasé about the room. “This room is incredible! It needs a long sofa, probably a sectional because the room is so big,” she said, walking slowly around the room as if taking it all in now that the lights were on and she could see it more clearly. “And curtains. You need long curtains that would go from the ceiling all the way down to the floor,” she said as she looked up at the three stories of windows that gave a breathtaking view of the Shenandoah Mountains.

She looked back at him. “Did you spend all your money on the house and can’t afford any furniture?” she asked gently.

Mitch looked at her gentle, concerned expression and burst out laughing. “Claire, you’re incredible,” he said. “I’m guessing you either already know, or will find out my complete net worth tomorrow. But it’s very sweet of you to be concerned about my finances.” He sat down in the black leather chair that was positioned in front of a large glass desk complete with three very large monitors. The only other chair was another leather chair, not as large, but still very comfortable. She sat down in it as she looked around the room, noting the large fireplace that she could probably stand up inside of, the two balconies that looked out to the den from the second story floors and the lovely view, all reflected in the highly polished wood floors. Just like his master, Duke was sprawled out on the wood floor gnawing at a raw hide bone, apparently unconcerned about the lack of creature comforts.

“So why haven’t you done anything with this room? Or any of the others for that matter?”

Mitch shrugged and looked around. “When I bought the house, I spoke to several interior decorators but nothing they sent me really struck a chord with me as being right for the rooms. At the time, I guess I sort of gave up and time has just slipped by.”

“Don’t you entertain?”

“Sure. That’s a necessity for any business owner. But I do it at restaurants or other facilities.”

“Do you not want people in your house?”

“Would that stop you?” he asked, a slight, knowing grin on his handsome face.

She smiled at his teasing tone and the laughter in his grey eyes. “Not really. There’s your promise to teach me something I want to learn if I succeed.”

“And the consequences if you fail.”

She waved that away. “You won’t hurt me.”

He took a sip of wine and the doorbell chimed. “I’ll get the pizza.”

She sat there while he went to the front door, Duke following in his wake, always on the alert for potential danger.

The pizza was steaming hot and gooey with loads of cheese. The olives were a problem, but Claire just picked them off with a fork and put them on Mitch’s next piece, sneaking Duke several pieces of pepperoni when Mitch went to get another bottle of wine. He didn’t even raise an eyebrow when he picked up a slice with double the olives, just dug into the meal with the same gusto as his first piece.

Claire continued to ask him questions about the house, why he bought it and what he planned to do with it, what his vision of the room had been when he’d bought it. She loved the room so much and offered suggestions. He didn’t really accept or reject any of them, but she kept on going.

“Tell me about this guy you’re so faithful to and are willing to risk imprisonment for,” he said as he poured her another glass of wine. “What’s he like? Where did you meet him?”

Claire stared back at him blankly for a long moment. “Gary?”

“Is that his name?”

She sank back in the chair, loving the way it wrapped around her and snuggled her into the leather. “Yes. He’s a very nice gentleman.”

“What does he do?”

Since he had answered all of her curious questions about his gorgeous house, and she’d broken into his home to find out information about the man, she figured she owed him an explanation as to why she’d done that. Besides, she wanted him to understand why she pushed him back when he pushed her towards a sexual relationship. Something she couldn’t do while dating another man. Or even after, she thought with a grimace. As she explained her relationship to Gary, his courtesy and his genuine interest in her, she gauged his face for any kind of reaction. But he simply kept asking questions, where he worked, why she thought he worked for Titus Securities, how old he was. Question after question and Claire answered them as honestly as she could, even though it was growing late and her body was responding to the over-stimulation from her attempted break in as well as his touch earlier tonight.

When her eye lids started to droop, Mitch realized that it was past midnight. “I’ll drive you home,” he said as he stood up, stretching from sitting for so many hours.

Claire looked around, doe eyed and confused. “Home?” She glanced at her watch and was startled. “Goodness! I can’t believe how late it is,” she said and stood up, rushing into the kitchen to rinse her wine glass. “I’m so sorry! You must be extremely tired. I know you work very hard.”

He followed her with his own wine glass, shaking his head as he listened to her chatter. Trapping her against the sink, he looked down into her guilty eyes. “Claire, you work just as hard as I do,” he countered.

Claire started to squirm against him, but the friction of their bodies only made her more aware of him, of his muscles and height. And her lack of both. “I…uh…don’t run a huge company like you do. I’m sure your hours are longer and the issues you face much more challenging.”

He was silent as he watched her squirm, enjoying both the movement and the blush that crept up her neck and cheeks. “And your never ending energy doesn’t wipe you out at the end of each day?”

She didn’t like the sound of that at all. “I’m not like that!”

He sighed and took both of her hands in his, placing them against his chest and keeping them there while she tried to pull them away. “You are. And I like it,” he said, despite the frown that followed his comment. “I also like the sexy outfits you wear to rebel against your traditional job within the company. I like it when you wear jeans,” he said as he slid his hands down her back to cup her bottom, inhaling the gasp with his mouth covering hers as he nibbled the side of her mouth. “I like the fact that you are stupidly loyal to a man you haven’t seen in several weeks and I like the anticipation of getting you into my bed,” he said before he covered her mouth so she couldn’t protest again.

The kiss was fast and hard, and over much too quickly. Just as she was about to beg for more, he stepped back and took her hand. “I’ll drive you to your car over on that private street you hid it on earlier tonight.”

As they drove through the night, Claire wanted desperately to ask him how he knew where she’d parked, but instead, ended up telling him more about her ideas for the project he’d assigned her to. He told her he was impressed with the possibilities and asked her several more questions about furthering the code, and Claire was just as intrigued with the direction he wanted to take the project.

As she got into the car, she smiled at how he waited for her, ensuring that she was safely in the car before he would even back up. Claire put the key in the ignition and turned over the engine on her little car, almost cringing as the sound broke the silence of the late night silence. Mitch’s headlights were behind her, streaming light through her little car so she quickly put it in gear and stepped on the accelerator.

She drove home with him following her all the way. He even waited until she unlocked her townhouse door and turned on the inside lights.

Leaning against the door, she considered all she’d learned tonight. Did she believe him about not knowing where Gary was? Gary had said he was an employee, but could he have lied? Why would he? The idea sounded pretty crazy, but everything about Mitch screamed out that he was telling her the truth.

Sighing, she turned off the light once again and climbed the stairs to her bedroom, pulling off clothes as she moved. She quickly washed her face, brushed her teeth and pulled on a soft tee-shirt, then climbed into bed. Her body was exhausted, but her mind wouldn’t let her sleep. She kept going over and over all the details, remembering Gary’s words and trying to figure out who wasn’t telling the truth.

Chapter 7

Mitch picked up the interoffice envelope, curious about something so low tech. Everyone in the office had e-mail and blackberries and many other high tech, under the radar forms of communication to use so it was extremely rare to receive an actual paper copy of something. But there it was, sitting in the middle of his desk. His assistant hadn’t even opened it, so unused to interoffice mail she apparently wasn’t sure what to do with it.