The Charmer’s Gambit Page 19

  “Mmm, I’d like to keep this on,” he murmured as he nibbled just north of my garter. “Which means,” he continued, his hands sliding up to grasp my lace thong at the sides, “these need to come off.”

  I gasped as he gave them a tug and snapped the elastic in half. My ruined thong disappeared in a careless toss over his shoulder.

  “You . . .” My complaint died on a moan as he licked my exposed flesh all the way up to the point I needed him most.

  “You taste amazing.” His intimate murmur left me aching in the neediest of ways. “Hang on, Rachel. I’m going to devour you.”

  He led with his tongue, and, oh, that mouth of his did not disappoint. He gave my warm center the same treatment as my breasts, except this time he licked deep and used his teeth to draw out my shudders.

  Tension built low in my body, straining my limbs and bringing tears to my eyes. It felt like he’d teased me forever with his endless games of anticipation, and now all that emotion culminated deep inside. His name was both a blessing and a curse on my tongue, until, finally, I felt it—that elusive sensation of bliss unfurling and tingling my nerve endings. Just as I teetered on the edge of explosion, Will pulled away, making me scream in frustration and desire. My vision went black with the insanity of it, and when I finally refocused, it was to find him kneeling over me. Naked.

  And, wow, was he a specimen to behold. I hadn’t seen the whole picture on the plane, and now that it was laid out in front of me, I couldn’t breathe.

  “Mmm, hold that thought, darlin’.” He rolled on a condom that came from God only knew where, all the while watching me in that knowing way of his, and then he lowered himself to his elbows on either side of my head. His hot member rested against my aching core as he kissed me with a reverence that left me a quivering mess beneath him.

  He released my hands, and I immediately wove my fingers into his hair. Part of me wanted to tug at the strands, furious that he left me hanging, while the other part needed to be closer to him. I rubbed against him wantonly until his palm grabbed my hip. My lips parted, a protest ready on my tongue, and then his thick head prodded at my entrance.

  “Still with me?” he breathed against my neck.

  “Yes.” I wrapped my stocking-clad calves around him, urging him forward, but he held himself there for a long, agonizing minute. Then his hand slid off my hip to the top of my sex and down to fondle my sensitive nub.

  I bit my lip to keep from crying out at the unexpected touch. The tension he initiated with his tongue just moments ago slammed back into me with a force that knocked the wind from my lungs. I felt tightly wound, ready to burst, and his tongue tracing my lips wasn’t helping. His muscular chest felt like heaven against my hard nipples, and having his arousal so close to mine fired electric jolts through my veins. Violent shudders wracked my body as sensations overwhelmed me to a painful degree, and then his mouth was at my ear.

  “Let go, Rachel.” His stubble against my neck, coupled with his words, punctured my restraint and sent me crashing over the edge into an endless pit of ecstasy. He drew out the sensation with his thumb and captured my moans with his mouth. Pain mingled with the pleasure as he seated himself inside me, and my body spasmed again in confused bliss. All thought scattered as he started to penetrate me deeper than I ever thought possible. His palm slid to my ass and angled my hips upward to meet his powerful thrusts.

  “Don’t stop,” I panted, pleading. Already I could feel a second orgasm brewing from deep within.

  “Never, darlin’.” His lips were at my ear. “I’ll never stop.”

  That spot, oh, that spot. He hit it with each flex of his hips, and when he increased his speed to stroke it over and over again, I thought I was going to pass out from the erotic vibrations. I moved with him, seeking friction and pressure and needing more. He picked up his pace, slamming into me with a force that left me breathless, and showed me just how well he could put all those muscles to use. The way he moved, so fast, so hard, so powerfully, undid me in a way I didn’t know was possible.

  “Touch yourself,” he demanded. “Now.”

  I reached between us and thrummed my clit with shaky fingers and moaned. That was exactly what I needed, but my brain hadn’t given the command. He squeezed my ass and upped the tempo to a rate I couldn’t match and drove me into oblivion. My screams could no doubt be heard throughout the hotel, but I wasn’t ashamed. Will deserved all the praise in the world.

  The hand on my ass clutched me to him as he carried me through my climax, never ceasing that moment and drawing out every ounce of my pleasure. I scored my nails down his back, luxuriating in the aftershocks, as he found his release deep inside of me.

  “Fuck . . .” His groan vibrated the sensitized skin of my neck where he’d dropped his head. The elbow he had used to prop himself up tensed, and I suspected he was using every last ounce of his energy to keep from crushing me. I had just enough sense left in me to wrap my arms around him and force him down. His weight on top of me felt right.

  “You’re never allowed to move,” I said, my voice raspier than I expected. He really did make me scream during all that.

  His chuckle lacked depth, which I assumed meant he’d worn himself out. Knowing that made me smile.

  “You’ll want me to move again at some point, darlin’.” He gave a shallow thrust to strengthen his point, and it sent a rush of tingles through my lower body. Okay, yeah. I’d like him to move again. Eventually.

  Unfortunately, that moment came all too soon as he rolled off the bed to dispose of the condom. When he returned in all his naked glory, I went to my elbows to take him in. Every inch of him was perfectly proportioned and confirmed that he had close to zero body fat. All those long hours in the vineyard had certainly paid off.

  “Keep lookin’ at me like that, and I’ll be tempted to start all over again.”

  I glanced at his semi-hard member and grinned. “Is that a promise?”

  His hand closed over my ankle and yanked me across the bed, causing me to fall to my back. I squealed when he kissed my inner thigh, and started to scoot away, but his hands held me in place.

  His eyes held mine as he unhooked my left stocking and slowly rolled it over my knee, down my calf, and off of my foot. He repeated the process with the right leg, all the while watching me under his thick lashes. It was erotic as hell and spiked my body temperature to a rolling boil. When he removed my garters with his teeth, I bit my lip.

  Holy hell hotness . . .

  He crawled over me and went to his elbows on either side of my head. “I have you right where I want you, Miss Dawson.”

  I swallowed. “Is that so?”

  “Yep.” He nuzzled my nose and cheek and trailed kisses along my jaw to my ear. “Do you still want to go to the Louvre tomorrow?”

  Not what I expected him to say. We discussed it briefly on the plane after listing all the attractions in Paris. It’d been high on my list of preferred sightseeing options, and he suggested we go on Sunday so we had a full day to explore. “Do you want to go?”

  “Of course.” He licked the shell of my ear. “And afterward, we can stop by the store for my final fitting, and then we’ll have dinner at Le Meurice.”

  My mouth popped open. This might be my first trip to Paris, but even I’d heard of that place. “You mean the restaurant at the Dorchester?” It was one of the top hotels in Paris and likely stole quite a few potential customers from Mershano Suites.

  He chuckled. “Yes, and we have reservations tomorrow night.”

  “Isn’t that like cheating on Evan somehow?”

  “Hey, it’s not my fault their food is better.” His defensive tone didn’t match the mirth tugging at his lips. “Besides, it’s your first trip to Paris. Only the best will do in this situation.”

  I laughed and shook my head. “Well, you sure know how to sweep a girl off her feet, Mershano.”

  He smirked. “You think so? Wait until you see the car we’re renting for our drive south on Mo
nday.”

  “Another truck?” I teased.

  “No.”

  “Something sexy, then?”

  He gave me an affronted look. “My truck is sexy.”

  I patted him on the back. “Sure it is, darling. Now, tell me about this car. Is it fast, and do I get to drive it?” Because that’s all that mattered.

  “Yes, and that depends. What would you be willing to give me in exchange for the keys?” His gaze dropped to my lips, then slid back up slowly.

  “I’m sure I could come up with something you’d enjoy.” I waggled my brows at him suggestively.

  “Such as?”

  “Well, you see, I have certain oral skills, Mister Mershano, that may intrigue you.”

  He grinned. “Oh, I’m very familiar with your argumentative abilities, Miss Dawson. Although, I’ll never complain about putting your smart mouth to better use.”

  “Careful, or I’ll put my teeth to better use as well.”

  “I might enjoy that.”

  With all his biting and nipping? Yeah, he probably would. “I don’t even remember what we were talking about now.” All this sexy banter distracted me.

  “That’s okay, gorgeous. We can work out the details of our trade later.” He kissed me soundly before pulling back with a smile. “You know what the French are famous for?”

  “Fashion?” If he expected me to model lingerie right now, he was in for a surprise because I had no intention of getting out of this bed anytime soon.

  His dimples deepened as he interpreted my expression correctly. “Don’t worry, darlin’. You can model for me later. I was talking about dessert.”

  “I like dessert.”

  He brushed a kiss over my lips. “Then I’ll order some for us to enjoy in bed before round two.”

  “Round two?” I wasn’t even close to recovering from round one.

  Desire dilated his pupils. “Oh, darlin’, that was just our warm-up. You’ll understand after we eat dessert.”

  24

  Conflict of Interest

  I studied the photo on my phone. The dark-haired beauty wore a fashionable suit, one meant for being captured in an image such as this. Her gloved fingers were wrapped around the neck of my ex-fiancé as he bent to whisper something in her ear. His grin was one I recognized well. He used it when he wanted to charm someone, and the woman clearly approved.

  The text was the last thing I expected to pop up on my screen after driving all day from Paris to Nice, but I knew something was coming because Mark hadn’t contacted me since my confession on Saturday. Until now.

  “What am I looking at?” I asked.

  “That is Bianca Jenkins,” Mark replied over the speakerphone. “Wife of Senator Jenkins.”

  My eyebrows shot up. Not only did I recognize the name, but I’d met the man several times. “He’s one of Ryan’s biggest supporters.”

  “Yes, and it would seem his young wife is an even bigger supporter.” His droll tone indicated his amusement at the word choice. “But it gets better.” Another photo popped up on my phone of a pregnant Bianca. “Your comment about him leaving you alone for six months didn’t fit his profile, so that’s where I started, and guess who got knocked up around the time he stopped harassing you?”

  Will let out a low whistle beside me. He had one arm slung across the back of the couch, but his focus was on the phone in my hand. Mark’s text had arrived just as we walked into our new suite.

  “You think the baby is his?” I guessed.

  “Affirmative.” His voice seemed to deepen as he continued. “This is Jenkins’s fourth wife in twenty years, and none of the previous women ever conceived. Birth control is entirely possible, but I’m betting he’s infertile. Plus, the timeline is right. That first photo is from a hotel security camera taken eight months ago, right about the time she got pregnant, while her husband was conveniently in another state.”

  “And he doesn’t suspect anything?” Senator Jenkins wasn’t a dense man. He had to know.

  Mark snorted. “He’s an arrogant son of a bitch who thinks the fourth time around is the charm, or maybe he just needed a wife who was twenty years younger. Who the hell knows, but he’s not about to question it. He’s too cocky for a philandering wife, which is probably why he didn’t care when she asked to stay in Madison after the holidays while pregnant. Jenkins had been in DC while Albertson had been privately tending to Bianca’s every, uh, need.” He paused to let that sink in before continuing.

  “So that’s why he left you alone. He had other things to worry about, like a pregnant woman who could ruin his career. Which brings me to my second reason for believing he’s the father—he pushed for her to abort the child.”

  I frowned. “How do you know that?”

  “Physician records that were not as well scrubbed as he thought. His name might not be on the paper trail, but there’s a financial link that suggests he paid for several consults. In any case, I’m confident he’s the father, and we’ll know for sure in a few weeks.”

  “Okay.” I chewed my lower lip and met Will’s gaze. Just having him there put me at ease in a way I didn’t know was possible. Especially when discussing Ryan. My emotional response seemed to dwindle with each new threatening message. The last one came in two hours ago, and I’d all but ignored it. Every time I deleted one of Ryan’s messages, I felt empowered and gained a sliver of control back. The few times his words kicked me in the stomach, I took one look at Will and felt my resolve strengthen again. The man’s confidence radiated from him, surrounding me with a comfort I’d not felt in years.

  I cleared my throat. “Okay,” I repeated. “So that explains his absence, but why is he bothering me again?”

  “Because he needs a wife.” Mark’s flat answer sent a chill down my spine. “His campaign managers are riding him hard about it, too, hence the desperate feel to his actions. He’s also not thrilled that his favorite possession is acting out by fucking a prime competitor.”

  “Mark!” I couldn’t believe he’d just said that. Except yeah, actually, I could. The man was not one to mince words. But still . . . “Don’t . . . I don’t . . . Just . . .” My face was on fire as I shook my head, unable to say anything back to that. Because wow. Just. Wow.

  “So what are you suggesting?” Will asked, speaking for the first time. His tone lacked his usual amusement and held an edge to it that I wasn’t sure I liked. The hairs on my arms danced in response. Danger. He shifted his arm to my shoulders and pulled me closer to place a kiss on my neck that dispelled some of the tension tightening my limbs.

  “I’m not suggesting anything yet, Mershano. His affair with Bianca is enough to destroy his political career, but Albertson is still vastly connected. It’s his other business connections that I want to explore a bit more before I give Rachel her options.”

  Will ran his hand up and down my arm. “Mafia ties?” he asked.

  “Something like that,” he answered vaguely. “I’ll be in touch as I learn more, Rach.”

  I was still trying to swallow the mafia comment, so all I managed was a “ ’Kay” in reply.

  “Oh, and Mershano? Hernandez is a good hire, but don’t piss him off. He throws a mean left hook.” Mark hung up without a formal goodbye. Will’s responding chuckle confused me almost as much as the man on the phone did.

  “Who’s Hernandez?”

  “One of the members of our security detail in France. He’s former black ops, which I suspect is what your friend is involved with because no way in hell that man is FBI.”

  As I already suspected the latter, I focused on the former. “We have a security detail?” He never mentioned anything about hiring anyone to watch us, nor had I noticed them.

  “Yes, and Rick Hernandez is the one I hired to organize it. He has two men in the hotel whom I haven’t met yet but plan to this evening.”

  “And they’re what? Going to follow us to our meeting?”

  “Yes, and wherever else we go while in Europe.”

/>   “That’s a bit much, isn’t it?” I understood his concern, but bodyguards accompanying us to a bunch of boring meetings felt extravagant. Ryan was obsessive, not stupid. He would never strike during a business negotiation.

  “Your safety means everything to me, Rachel.” He grasped my chin and forced my gaze to his. “I won’t let that asshole touch you ever again. Do you understand?”

  A shiver tickled the back of my neck. So intense. “And what happens after?”

  “After?” he repeated. “After what?”

  “After we leave Europe.” It was something I hadn’t wanted to think about these last three days, but I would eventually have to return to Chicago. To work, to my apartment, to Ryan . . .

  “We agreed the other night that this isn’t short term. When we return, we return together. We fight, remember?” Will’s stern tone reminded me of that day in the boardroom with the partners. Charming, but in charge in every way that mattered with no room for negotiation. I had no intention of arguing with him, but there were things we hadn’t discussed yet.

  “I’ll need to be reassigned to a new project, and I doubt my management team is going to take kindly to my hooking up with a client.” I winced at that last part. So much for my professional reputation.

  He cleared his throat. “About that . . . Remember when Garrett came to Chicago and we met with the partners?”

  I eyed him sideways. As if I could forget the morning I woke up in Will’s bed and met one of the South’s best attorneys not thirty minutes later. “Yes.”

  “Part of our negotiations revolved around adding a conflict of interest clause regarding my preexisting relationship with you. An agreement I agreed to and signed before starting work with you on the project.”