The Boss Man's Fortune (Dynasties: The Danforths Book 5) Page 10

  For a breathless moment, her heart raced. Her knees went numb, wobbly.

  Katie gave an involuntary gasp. “No!”

  “What?” Ian demanded, staring at her with concern.

  She couldn’t answer, couldn’t breathe. Her chest ached and she looked around wildly, feeling trapped.

  The man in the lobby pushed between people, rushing toward the elevator, shouting for it to stop. Just before the doors sighed shut, he lunged for them, his face screwed up in a mask of urgency.

  Katie fell back against other passengers. Horrified, she heard what she imagined were the man’s fists pounding on the outer doors as the car started to climb. Passengers behind her whispered nervously.

  “Talk about being in a hurry,” one man mumbled, and got a laugh.

  Katie didn’t dare look at Ian, but she felt him watching her and knew a storm was brewing. Doesn’t matter, she told herself, she had more to worry about than a confused boss at the moment.

  As soon as the doors opened wide enough to let her through to the fifth floor, she shot between them, her mind whirring.

  Ian ran behind her. “Who was that man?”

  She couldn’t speak, couldn’t even fathom what to do next. They’d found her! Her brother Dennis had somehow traced her to Savannah. Oh God, what now?

  “Katie, talk to me. Please!” Ian grabbed her arm, but she slipped from his fingers. “Is that man harassing you? We’ll call the police!”

  “Don’t. Please don’t. I’m all right. Really, I am.” Ian would only make things worse if she involved him now. He couldn’t possibly understand. She was running down the hall, tossing words over her shoulder at him. “I can’t stay. I have to…I’ll be back. Just let me sort things out.”

  She might still get out of the building and back to her apartment without Dennis catching up with her. She could think things through in peace there.

  “Katie!” Ian’s plea crested over her like a warm wave, beckoning to her.

  She didn’t slow down.

  It tore Ian apart.

  Katie was running from a man, and Ian didn’t want another man in her life. He didn’t care if that was selfish.

  If she was still this emotionally tied to the handsome young fellow in the Stetson he’d glimpsed in the lobby, maybe she still loved him. Maybe she would go back to him. Then Ian would never know what it was to love her. Really love her.

  For the first time he was able to acknowledge why they bickered over even the most insignificant things in the office. He was like the kindergarten kid who picks on one little girl in his class because he likes her. He had been tugging Katie’s pigtails, figuratively speaking, since her first day at Danforth’s. He had annoyed her and fought with her, and he’d even tried to get her removed from his office. When none of that worked, he did what he’d really wanted to do all along. Make love to her.

  The male mind is truly perverse, he thought to himself.

  That afternoon Ian called her apartment three times. Either she wasn’t there or wasn’t answering.

  Maybe she was so terrified of that man she’d been afraid to go home. Before he left the office for the day, he scanned the lobby and the coffee shop, just to see if he could spot the man again. If he did, he’d sure as hell confront him and demand to know his reason for stalking Katie. But the man in the Stetson was nowhere to be seen.

  That night, Ian nearly went mad with worry. He telephoned her place three more times, leaving messages for her to call him. A dozen times, he nearly rang up the police. Each time, he reminded himself that she’d begged him to trust her. If he broke that trust to follow his own instincts, she might hate him for it.

  An infinitesimally fine thread bound them now. He dared not strain it.

  Hadn’t she said more than once that she needed to learn to be on her own, discover her strengths? Maybe she viewed this as a personal test. If he failed to respect her wishes, his interference might turn her totally against him.

  So he waited through the long night, drank way too much bourbon and hoped he was doing the right thing.

  Ian picked up two cups of D&D’s best on his way up to the office the next morning. Just habit, he realized after he had the coffee in hand. There was no guarantee Katie would appear, given what had happened the day before.

  But when he walked into the CEO’s suite, juggling steaming cups to manage the doorknob, she sat at her desk, looking pale and exhausted but composed.

  She looked up at him, then saw the coffee. “Oh, yes, yes, yes! Thank you so much,” she said softly. “Wonderful caffeine. We were out of our office supply.” She snatched the cup from him and took a grateful, long drink.

  He hesitated, unsure what to say without prying or treading on ground she protected so tenaciously. “Is everything all right?” he asked cautiously.

  “It will be.” She smiled tentatively at him and pried the plastic lid off her cup to savor an even longer creamy guzzle. “We’ll talk soon. About everything, I promise. I just have to make sense of some things in my own head before I try to explain them to anyone else.”

  He nodded. “I’m here when you’re ready, Katie.”

  She gave him a slightly brighter smile. “Thanks.”

  He walked into his office, quietly shut the door behind him and let out a string of curses. The act of relinquishing control to someone else was nearly the toughest thing he’d ever done. It was his nature to never stand by and let someone close to him suffer. And although Katie was putting up a good front, he was sure she was suffering.

  That was what had been so difficult about losing his unborn child. He had been helpless to stop it from happening. He felt no less helpless now.

  All that day and the next, Katie felt as if she were holding her breath. Her brother might open the door to Ian’s office and walk in at any moment, but she couldn’t just hide in the apartment, waiting for him to leave Savannah.

  Katie decided that, come what may, she had to live her life. Furthermore, as she began to think more clearly about the incident, she realized that it was possible Dennis had simply wandered into the building as he searched the city. It might have been pure luck that they’d ended up in the same place at the same time.

  And what if he did check with Personnel? He’d ask for Katherine Fortune, a name that wouldn’t come up on their records. He had no way of connecting her with the real or fictional Katie O’Brien. Katie had been one of many friends from college; she’d never come home with her to meet the family. Just to be safe, though, she took the precaution of using the back stairway as she came and went. After a couple more days passed, she’d feel confident she’d shaken Dennis.

  All she asked for was a little more time. Once she was assured of a permanent position with Danforth’s she’d have bargaining power. Then she could say to her parents, “See, I’ve made a life for myself. I’m gainfully employed, supporting myself, and I’m happy here.” Her father would have to acknowledge her right to independence then, wouldn’t he?

  Two more days passed, and her worry over her brother lessened. However the tension she felt emanating from Ian increased. He kept his distance, maybe just to give her space…maybe rethinking his interest in her. She vowed that the very next day she would explain everything to him. She would do it carefully, to lessen the impact of her lying to him. She would say the right things to help him understand her point of view. It wasn’t that she hated her family or felt they didn’t have a right to know she was safe. She simply needed to be her own person, and that was hard to do if you were a Fortune woman.

  Meanwhile she missed having his arms around her. She hoped that after he knew the truth, he would still want her.

  Ian slapped shut the updated portfolio Imogene had left with him. None of the figures made sense; they buzzed in his head like angry bees.

  Something had to give.

  He reached for the call button on his phone to summon Katie, then changed his mind. When he walked out into the reception area, she was seated at her desk, staring
at the screen saver on her PC.

  “Katie.”

  She jumped.

  “Don’t worry,” he said quickly, “no grand inquisition.”

  She turned and looked up at him from her chair. He rested his hands on her shoulders and gazed down at her. Her eyes grew bright, her cheeks flushed, but she held his gaze. He would give anything to be able to haul her up into his arms and keep her there.

  “It’s getting late,” he said. “You should have left over an hour ago.”

  She lifted a shoulder under his hand. “It’s okay. There’s work to be done. I don’t have anywhere special to go.”

  Was she waiting for dark to leave the building? Was she still running?

  “I want to kiss you.” The words were out before he had time to censor the thought that had triggered them.

  She tilted her head and observed his face, as deeply contemplative and innocent as a child studying a daisy. “I would like that very much.”

  She stood up and melted against him. He felt as if the universe had suddenly shrunk to the size of the one square foot where they stood. Her lips parted invitingly and he was lost.

  Ian kissed her the way he’d dreamed of kissing her ever since they’d met. He possessed her mouth, caressed the small of her back, pressed her closer still to his body. When he at last drew his head back to breathe, her eyes grew instantly wary.

  “No questions asked,” he promised. “No grilling under a hot light, no demands. You make all the calls, Katie.”

  A look of amazement and relief crossed her face. “Really?”

  “If that’s the only way I can have you, that’s what I’ll take.”

  Katie felt the world lift from her shoulders. Never had a man told her that he would follow her lead. Not in love. Not in family life. Not in school or business. Yet Ian, who was so accustomed to being in charge, had relinquished control to her, had blindly accepted her despite all the risks he must have perceived.

  He’d been terribly hurt before, she knew that much. He’d had a wife and, nearly, a child…and lost both. Now he was taking what she imagined must be an immense leap of faith for him. More than anything, she didn’t want to disappoint him.

  Tonight they would make love. Tomorrow she would tell him who she was, why she was hiding from her family, and hope that he could understand how important it was to her.

  Right now, she wanted a lover. A grown-up, experienced, exciting lover.

  Ian’s arm felt strong and warm around her waist as he led her to the leather couch in his office. They sat down together. Although she sensed a catlike, predatory tension in his body as he drew her into his arms, and his eyes revealed a hunger she hoped she could satisfy, he reined in his wilder impulses.

  Gently he brushed his lips across hers, moved his hands over her body, through her clothing. It was nice.

  But nice wasn’t what she wanted. Her own needs, her own hungers were clawing at her, demanding more…wanting him to move faster. She needed hard. She needed intense. Burning and wicked and wanton. No sweet schoolboy kisses or experimental touches for her.

  Her excitement built in equal proportion to her frustration. At last Katie pulled away from Ian’s tender embrace and stared him dead in the eyes.

  “No,” she said.

  He looked startled, then disappointed. “I’m sorry, I thought you wanted to make love.”

  “Ian, I’m not a child. I’m younger than you, yes, but you’re not doing anything wrong by having sex with me.”

  He frowned. “I just don’t want to hurt you. Maybe we should go to my place. It’s more appropriate.”

  “I’m not a piece of Spode china. I won’t break. And I don’t want a change of venue. I want you…now…here.” She punctuated each word with a tug at his belt buckle until it fell open.

  One dark brow lifted. “You know about this not breaking business from vast past experience?” He sounded more than a little worried.

  She laughed. “I’ve had boyfriends before, not a football squad.”

  “Well, that’s a relief.”

  She yanked him down on top of her, wedged one knee between his thighs and nudged him. “I want passion, Mr. Danforth.”

  “Passion.” His voice sounded hoarse.

  “Do what you feel like doing, not what you think is proper. I’ve had proper all of my life. It’s gotten damn old.”

  It was as if she’d thrown an electrical switch on the man. Not one of those puny wall switches that make an ordinary ceiling light flicker on. This was the lever type she imagined a groundskeeper yanking down to set a major-league stadium ablaze in the night.

  With one hand on either side of her hips, he slid her down on the leather cushions, leaving her skirt in folds around her waist. She could feel his erection through the tissue-thin lining of her panties, rigid and hard against the tender flesh between her thighs.

  Had he been this aroused moments ago? Had he somehow managed to disguise his lust because he’d thought he should?

  Impressive self-control, the thought came to her through a hot, sensual haze. She was throbbing down there, and wondered if he could feel that deep, resonant feminine pulse.

  Then, in a heartbeat, the mere act of thinking was impossible. His mouth covered hers. She parted her lips in a gasp of pleasure as his tongue probed, demanded. His hands were loosening her clothing, dispensing quickly with blouse, bra, until she was naked from the waist up. Her breasts rubbed against the coarse linen of his jacket. The little white pearl buttons of his shirtfront lightly scraped against her nipples, sending licks of heat to heighten the blaze within her.

  Frantically she attempted to unbutton his shirt, needing to touch his flesh. But he brushed her hands aside. “No,” he growled. “Like this. I want you like this.”

  She, unclothed, provocative. He, urbanely dressed, her master.

  Did she mind? Not in the least.

  Relinquishing her body to him, giving him permission to take control of their pleasure…it felt right. She’d given herself over to him freely.

  Already the intensity of his lovemaking had opened new vistas of sensation. It was as if she could glimpse distant horizons she’d never seen before, feel deeper pleasure and pain than her body had been capable of until this moment. The room glimmered around them—all brass and polished mahogany and butter-soft leather. And his eyes were oh so dark above her. Every inch of him, though clothed and kept from her fingertips itching to explore, was taut with pent-up desire primed to engulf her.

  “Sorry. Buy you new ones,” he growled in her ear, which made no sense at all, until she felt her panties come away in shreds at a tug of his fingers.

  Thrilled by his strength, she closed her eyes and let her head fall back against his supporting hand. His breath fell hot along her throat, across her breasts. He drew his tongue in lazy circles round one nipple then the other before falling with a throaty male groan over the easiest to reach, drawing her breast succulently, eagerly into his mouth.

  She delighted at the sensation of his teeth, his tongue, as they savored her. Tender flesh quivered and prickled deliciously with each sweep of his tongue and lips.

  “Oh!” she gasped. “Please, don’t stop.” She pressed his head down harder and felt herself grow wet with ecstasy.

  Ian cupped her bare bottom, moved her thighs apart and rubbed her against the coarse linen of his pants front, until she begged him again and again to take her. Her body ripened, gave way, flowed hot and steady. She moaned.

  He didn’t ask if she was all right with what he was doing to her. It was as if he understood what each shiver, each subtle twitch of muscle and unlocked emotion meant. He seemed to sense, too, where and when to touch her, and just how tenderly or vigorously to create the most intense reactions in her body. She wondered, fleetingly, how on earth he was managing to control himself, for he’d been fully ready for what seemed a very long time. Pleasuring her…only her.

  “Ian!” she cried out as he slipped a hand between their bodies and touche
d for the first time the sex-plumped flesh between her thighs.

  “Yes, my love,” he whispered.

  “I didn’t know…didn’t think…” It hadn’t been like this before. Ever.

  “Don’t think,” he cautioned, “only feel.”

  “But—”

  His lips covered hers, shutting off words she couldn’t have found anyway. His fingertips sought out her sensitive, moist core, plunged within her in quick, eager thrusts, and she arched her back and rocked against his hand until the exploding waves of heat subsided within her as smoldering embers.

  “Please,” she begged, weakly, “let me touch you.”

  He smiled tightly. “Can’t, love.”

  “Why? I want to wrap my fingers around you and…oh, Ian, please!”

  “No. When I come I’m going to be in you. Touch me now, and it’s a done deal.” His eyes glowed darkly—a shadow of the predator again. The tiger standing over his prey. Any moment and he’d devour her.

  Then, as if he suddenly saw his limit, he reached for his zipper. Looking down she watched as he hastily freed himself from pants and briefs without removing either.

  She couldn’t take her eyes off his generous, perfectly formed shaft—so hard, so satisfyingly full and long. He plucked a small foil square from his pocket and, as she admired him, he protected them.

  Katie felt an inner twinge at the reality of the moment. Now came the promise of fulfillment. Now she would be his, and he her very own.

  Then, without any effort from her, he was reversing their positions, lifting and settling her astride his slim hips as he lay back along the couch. He spread her, slid her down over him, and every inch of silken shaft brought sleeping nerves to life as he plunged deeper, deeper still within her.

  What had once been empty was full. What had once been incomplete was perfect in its completion. Now it seemed only natural that she should be drenched anew and quivering around him.