The Wilde Side (9 page)

"Well, babies tend to have schedules of their own, and Mom and Dad just have to learn to adapt, don't they?" Ashley said to Sophie, though her words were meant for her sister.

"We're trying, but Adam and I... Well, we're having a hard time adjusting to so many changes in our lives," Madison said quietly.

Ashley wondered if there was more to her sister's comment than she was letting on and remembered the way Madison had glanced at her husband a few nights ago at her birthday dinner – with an unmistakable yearning that had undoubtedly caught Ashley's attention at the time. Were the two of them having marital problems?

"I really appreciate you meeting me for lunch on such a short notice," Madison said as she fiddled with the silverware on the table. "I know how busy you are with the boutiques and everything else—"

"I always have time for you, Maddie," Ashley cut in as she settled Sophie on her lap and let the baby play with a spoon. "
Always
."

"Thank you." Her sister's eyes shimmered with excess moisture. Then she quickly blinked it away, though her normally beautiful features remained too forlorn. "I just needed to see you today, before you left for San Francisco. I've been feeling a bit ... emotional lately."

Ashley truly wanted to believe that her sister's sensitive mood could simply be explained away as hormonal imbalance and adjusting to having a baby in the house; yet Sophie was six months old, and this was the first time Ashley had seen Madison so unhappy. Depressed, almost. And that was something that worried Ashley, as well.

"Are you sure that's all it is?" she questioned, giving her sister an open opportunity to confide in her.

Madison drew a wavering breath in an attempt to rein in her emotions and nodded. "I'm sure. I promise."

Even though Ashley highly suspected that something more was going on with her sister, she decided to let the issue go for the time being. She'd check up on Madison in a few days to see if she was feeling any better, and if she didn't snap out of her blues, Ashley would encourage her to see a doctor.

"Okay," she relented, but still felt the need to let her sister know she wasn't alone, that she was only a phone call away at all times. "If you need someone to talk to, about anything at all, you know I'm here for you."

"You always are," Madison said with a smile that chased away some of the bleakness lingering in her eyes. "That's what makes you such a great sister and friend."

Yes, this was her life as Ashley St. Claire: taking care of her little sister and giving her the emotional support when she needed it, being the responsible, dependable manager of the St. Claire Hotel boutiques and dealing with the possibility of one of her employees stealing, and doing her best to be an upstanding daughter her parents could be proud of and make up for the scandal that had nearly destroyed her family's reputation and tarnished the respected St. Claire name.

It was a life that was sometimes hectic and chaotic, and it was filled with personal obligations and commitments that kept her constantly surrounded by friends, family, and the hotel's enormous staff.

It was a life that lately, felt lonely as hell.

Chapter 6

T
he view of Fisherman's Wharf at night from the thirty-sixth floor of the St. Claire Hotel in San Francisco was spectacular. Ashley stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows of her private suite as she sipped on a glass of Bailey's, taking in the colored lights twinkling from the shops and restaurants along Pier 39, as well as the boats cruising out on the bay. It was an exceptionally clear, cloudless night, and she wished her mind and thoughts were just as calm and untroubled.

Sighing, she finished off her nightcap and set the empty crystal glass on the marbled wet bar. She'd always enjoyed her business trips to San Francisco, loved the sights and scenery and the overall atmosphere, which was one of the reasons why she was considering moving to the charming city and using the hotel there as her home base.

Her other reasons were more personal. The thought of starting out fresh and new and being dependent on no one but herself was a notion she found incredibly enticing. And there was always that deep-seated hope that maybe with a new purpose, new friends, and a new kind of life that was all her own, she could finally escape the guilt and regrets that weighed heavily on her conscience, as well as the shadow of the past hanging over her.

If that was even possible, she thought, and headed toward the master bath for some aquatic therapy to help relieve the stress tightening the muscles along her neck, shoulders, and back. Once there, she turned on the Jacuzzi tub, poured a generous amount of wild clover bath oil into the churning water, then stripped off her clothes and clipped up her hair while she waited for the tub to fill. After switching on the massage jets, she slipped into the chaiselike formation and immersed herself up to her chin in the luxurious bath. Leaning her head against the rim, she closed her eyes and attempted to finally relax.

After spending her second ten-hour day down in the hotel's boutique inventorying various lines of collectibles and jewelry, and discussing orders for a new fall collection of clothing and accessories with the store's manager, she should have been exhausted and ready to drop into bed for a long and much needed night's rest.

Such hadn't been the case. She'd been too keyed up and restless to sleep, so she'd taken a cable car down to Union Square where she'd had dinner at a casual outdoor café. Afterward, she'd wandered through Neiman Marcus and bought Madison a fun Kate Spade suede purse to cheer her up and couldn't resist stopping at F.A.O. Schwarz where she'd bought an adorable stuffed giraffe for Sophie.

It wasn't the first time she'd explored the city on her own, but it was the first time she'd wished she had someone special to share it with. Someone easygoing and fun, like Scott. And therein lay the crux to her unsettled mind and discontented emotions.

She'd honestly believed that coming to San Francisco would serve a dual purpose. She'd get the boutique's inventory wrapped up for the quarter, and being thousands of miles away from Chicago would give her the distance she desperately needed to get Scott, and their one passionate night together, out of her head.

The inventory was coming along faster than she'd expected and would probably be finished by tomorrow afternoon. Ashley would be back home by Friday, as planned. As for Scott... She couldn't forget about him, no matter how hard she tried. Sensual memories and tantalizing images of him invaded her thoughts during the day, and he'd become a part of her provocative dreams at night. Even now, with the silky water rippling and lapping against her bare skin, it was so easy to imagine that he was there with her, his hands caressing her breasts, her belly, and all those other places that ached for his touch.

Her breathing deepened as the familiar hunger unfolded, tapping into the wanton woman she'd been only with Scott and hadn't allowed herself to be since. Cupping her breasts in her palms, she gently pinched and squeezed the taut tips, her mind easily conjuring up the fantasy of Scott's mouth on her as he tongued and licked and sucked her nipples.

A ragged moan sounded in her throat, and she slid her hand beneath the eddying water, down her stomach, and over her mound, the heady scent of clover making her light-headed as well as heightening her arousal. Her fingers glided between the soft folds of her sex and stroked along her cleft, slow and deep.

The escalating sensation of an impending climax was nearly unbearable – four days of pent-up desire she'd valiantly tried to ignore now demanding she give in to the carnal gratification ... four days of replaying every erotic moment with Scott, but denying her body the release it so desperately craved.

The water churned around her, teasing her unmercifully, taunting her like liquid fingers caressing her sensitized flesh. The jets massaging her from different angles beckoned to her hedonistic side, suggesting tempting possibilities of the various ways she could relieve her sexual frustration.

Before she could change her mind or come to her senses, she sat up on her knees and moved closer to the edge of the tub and one of the nozzles. The hard, vibrating stream hit her thighs, her aching mons, and when she spread her legs and tilted her hips just so, the pulsating pressure found her clit. She gasped as the water lapped relentlessly at her, working quickly on her already inflamed body. She gripped the side of the tub, let her head fall back, and groaned and shuddered as the tremors of her climax overtook her.

The much-needed release definitely pacified the sexual tension within her, but as she stepped out of the tub and grabbed a fluffy towel and patted herself dry, she was forced to admit how empty she felt inside. The orgasm might have eased her physical needs, but it did nothing to soothe the deeper longing to be with the one man who'd affected more than just her body, a man who'd been so selfless and giving in so many ways and whose motives had been honest, without any underlying designs of scamming something from her or the St. Claire name.

She'd had so little of that unreserved generosity and acceptance from the men in her past, and she was beginning to realize that at some point during her night with Scott he'd managed to find a way into her heart – in a place she'd allowed very few to touch.

Her breath seemed to hitch in her throat as she selected a silk chemise from her armoire and put it on. She'd fallen for Scott Wilde, and as much as she wanted to think of her night with him as nothing more than a frivolous affair, she knew it was much more than that.

Even after the pleasure she'd given herself she still ached, but it was no longer a physical thing. What she needed was to feel the kind of emotional connection she'd experienced with Scott, the closeness and intimacy that didn't come with any strings attached or expectations.

Beyond being fascinated and attracted to him, she was curious to discover more about the man he was. She wanted to know what he did for a living, his likes and dislikes, and what his brothers and family were like. But then that would mean reciprocating with personal, intimate secrets of her own ... unless she directed the conversation between them and carefully avoided the questions that would give too much away.

Biting her bottom lip in indecision, she started toward the cell phone she'd left on the nightstand next to the bed. What she was considering was dangerous and risky, yes, but she consoled herself with the knowledge that while she had Scott's number logged into her phone, he still didn't know who she was or how to contact her. And since she could disconnect their conversation at the press of a button without worrying about him tracing the call back to her, it kept her in control of the situation and eliminated any threat to her identity.

Clutching the phone in her hand, she lowered herself to the edge of the bed and closed her eyes, wrestling with what her heart ached to do and what her head and common sense told her she
should
do.

God, she was dying to hear his deep, seductive voice again, but mostly, she didn't want to be alone tonight. And she didn't have to be if she was willing to ditch common sense and follow her heart....

*

Scott finished up his twenty-fifth lap across his pool, the exhilaration of the day's events keeping him pumped up and psyched, even long after the initial rush of adrenaline had dissipated. Just that afternoon he'd gotten
the call
that Nolan and Sons had won the bid for the St. Claire restoration project, and he'd been flying higher than a kite ever since.

After taking off work early for a celebratory drink with Alex, Scott had stopped by his father and stepmother's place to share the exciting news. His father had slapped him on the back and congratulated him with a handshake and a hug, the pride in his eyes unmistakable. His father's support and approval had felt damn good, and Scott vowed that this time around he wouldn't disappoint his dad. This project was a turning point for Nolan and Sons, and with success would come respect for a company that was now playing in the same big league as other prominent, leading-edge contractors.

The job started in two weeks, and Scott had already informed Alex that he was going to be as hands-on as possible with the progress of work. He planned to supervise the job on a daily basis to make sure all the custom imported tile work went smoothly and the man hours were kept within budget without jeopardizing the job in any way. There was no way he was leaving anything to chance on this project, and that meant his own personal involvement from the beginning.

With that in mind, he got out of the pool and headed up to the patio where he shucked off his dripping wet swimming trunks and reached for the towel on the lounge chair. He dried the excess water from his hair and body, then secured the towel around his hips before padding into the house.

He grabbed a cold beer from the refrigerator, twisted off the cap, and was on the way to his bedroom to change into a pair of shorts when the cell phone he'd left on the kitchen counter earlier rang. Certain it had to be a wrong number since it was after eleven P.M., he backtracked to the kitchen and picked up the unit on its second ring. He glanced at the digital display to see who was calling at such a late hour, and his heart slammed hard in his chest when he read the words,
Blocked ID
.

The last time he'd seen that message on his cell phone it had been Ashley on the other end, but after four days of not hearing from her he'd given up any hope that she'd contact him. Yet, if there was even the slimmest possibility that this call
was
Ashley, he didn't want to miss the opportunity to talk to her.

The phone jingled a third time, and before the call could switch over to voice mail he connected the line and answered with a cautious, "Hello?"

"Hi, Scott," a soft, familiar feminine voice drifted into his ear. "It's Ashley."

As if he wouldn't have been able to recognize that sweet, sensual voice of hers. Profound relief swept through him, and the smile that eased up the corner of his mouth was automatic and very welcome after four days of being much too moody.

"Hi there, Just Ashley," he replied, his tone light and flirtatious as he headed back down the hallway to his bedroom. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?"

A resigned breath unraveled out of her. "I can't stop thinking about you and our night together."

"Thank God I'm not the only one who's been reliving that night over and over in my mind." Especially the way her silky blond hair looked spread across his pillow, how her green eyes had darkened with desire as he'd stripped off her panties, then slid deep, deep inside her warm, giving body, and the carefree sound of her laughter as they'd played a game of tag in his pool – and then her soft moans of surrender when he'd captured, then thoroughly ravished her.

Predictably, his groin stirred as he resurrected those seductive memories. "Just so you know, I'm glad you called."

"Me, too."

The barest hint of reservation he detected in her voice prompted him to delve deeper. "Why do I get the feeling that you're not one hundred percent sure of that answer?"

She laughed, the light, amusing sound one he remembered well. "You're too perceptive, Mr. Wilde. How about I'm ninety-nine percent sure of my answer?"

Setting his bottled drink on his dresser, he opened a drawer and pulled out a clean pair of navy cotton boxers. With the phone tucked between his ear and shoulder, he quickly unhooked the damp towel from his waist, let it drop to the floor, and stepped into the dry shorts. "And what about the other one percent?"

She sighed, soft and low. "That one percent isn't quite certain that calling you was the right thing to do."

He didn't like hearing the doubts lacing her voice and wondered if she was harboring regrets about their time together. God, he hoped that wasn't the case. "Why not?"

"Because what's between us... It has the potential of getting too emotionally complicated."

He frowned, struck by the insinuation in her reply, for personal reasons that dredged up too much of the past and his
emotionally complicated
relationship with Elaine.

Shaking off those unpleasant thoughts, he instead asked, "Emotionally complicated for who?"

"For me, mostly." She paused for a moment, then elaborated. "I never would have thought that a one-night stand could become so..."

"Addictive?" he supplied, understanding the obsession all too well. That all too consuming need to be with her had haunted him since the morning she'd left his bed.

"You're definitely addicting," she murmured with husky appreciation. "And you gave me quite a night to remember."