The Pitch: City Love 2, page 14
The next couple of hours were a blur. Paul introduced me to more people than I could count. To his credit, he used his charm and influence to get me in front of Ian and Ryan, upon which we had a pleasant fifteen-minute conversation. The advice not to drink was harder to achieve. The waiters were relentless and my dress seemed to have more effect than I’d anticipated, with random male strangers offering me drinks at regular intervals.
To my relief, Paul didn’t leave my side the entire time. He guided me easily around the room with a hand resting on the exposed skin on the small of my back. It felt natural, if not tantalizingly seductive.
When the wait staff indicated we should be seated for our meal I was grateful. I required some food to accompany my alcohol. Paul must have sensed as much because he made sure I was seated properly before sitting down next to me.
“Having a good time?”
“A little too good.” Embarrassingly, I let out a quiet hiccup. “Food would be good.”
Paul’s eye twinkled. “I told you.”
“Yes, you did. But, child that I am, I didn’t listen.” The concoction of tropical cocktails on offer had been worth it.
“I’ll have to discipline you later.”
My eyes widened and he gave me a sly grin, then turned to introduce himself to the woman on the other side of him.
I continued to stare at the back of his head, my heart pounding furiously. Where was the Paul I was used to? Tropical Island Paul was teasing me and I liked it. In my slightly drunken state I found I wasn’t interested in analyzing it as much as I usually would – I wanted more of it.
Dinner took the edge off my inebriation. I was painfully aware it did not take the edge off my attraction to Paul. Fortunately our table of ten proved to be an entertaining group and helped take my mind off him. We passed the dinner conversing happily.
During the main meal, one of the television station sales managers looked over at me curiously. Gareth was an attractive-looking man somewhere in his mid-thirties, with sandy blond hair and warm brown eyes. “How long have you and Paul been married?” he asked.
I swallowed my fish, attempting not to choke, then looked up at him. “We’re not married,” I managed.
“Oh? I assumed you were together?”
I wasn’t entirely stupid. It was a roundabout way of asking if I was taken. Judging by how he’d been eyeing me the last half hour, he was interested.
I could feel Paul’s eyes on me as I put down my fork and reached for my wine. “Paul’s my business mentor.”
Gareth’s eyebrows shot up. “Mentor?” He directed his attention to Paul. “How did you get that gig?”
“Just lucky, I guess,” Paul replied smoothly.
I smiled at Paul. “He’s become a good friend, though.”
Gareth gave Paul a pointed look and sat back in his chair. “Hard luck. I don’t know if I’d have that sort of strength,” he joked.
I saw something flicker in Paul’s eyes and he smiled tightly. He set down his wine. “You may not have heard of Madeleine’s company, Grounded Marketing. They’ve just won the advertising account for ACB Banking Corporation. Madeleine and I are working together on it. In four years she’s achieved more revenue growth than NTRtain managed in six. The truth is, she’s teaching me a thing or two.”
I felt myself redden and Gareth turned to look at me again. “Really?”
I sat up in my seat and leveled my gaze at him. “Yes. The ACB account is a major win for us,” I told him.
“She’s being modest,” Paul interrupted. “Grounded Marketing achieved BRW Fastest Growing Company status two years running – and the ACB win will skyrocket her ranking this year, I’m betting.”
“Grounded Marketing. Interesting name.” Gareth’s expression turned to genuine interest. “Tell me more about what you do, Madeleine.”
I spent the rest of the main meal discussing Grounded Marketing’s history and services with Gareth. By the end of dessert, I was pretty confident I’d secured an ally in the industry.
“Would you care for a dance?” Gareth asked, when the meals were over.
“She promised me the first dance,” Paul cut in.
Gareth looked prepared to fight him on it, but then assessed Paul’s challenging look and reconsidered. “Maybe later then,” he said, jovially. “Don’t be a stranger, alright?”
I gave him one of my brightest smiles in return. “Absolutely.”
Paul and I watched as Gareth stood and targeted his attentions on a group of women chatting near the dance floor. I reached over and placed a hand on Paul’s arm. “Thank you.”
“For saving you from the dance floor?” Paul shrugged. “No problem. Unless of course you wanted to dance with him?”
I ignored him. “No. I meant thanks for what you said before.”
His expression darkened. “You don’t need to thank me for that.”
“Yes, I do.” Paul started to shift uncomfortably in his seat and I tightened my grip on his arm. “He was treating me like the stereotypical bimbo woman, and you put him in his place.”
“He was being an ass.”
“It’s not the first time I’ve been spoken to that way, Paul,” I said.
He turned to me, his blue eyes intent. “Then I apologize on behalf of the male race. You deserve so much better.”
My breath left me in a soft whoosh.
“What?” he asked.
“Funny,” I said. “There’s this amazing guy I know. He keeps telling me to save myself for someone who deserves me.”
Paul grinned. “He sounds like a wise guy.”
“He is.”
“He also sounds too old for you.”
“I don’t see it that way.” I picked up my wine glass and ran my finger along the edge. “He seems caught up on it though, unfortunately.”
“Probably because he has a lot of baggage. Divorce can do that.”
I set the wine glass down and looked at him. “It’s called life.”
“You’re very stubborn … Madeleine.”
I felt my stomach clench and my pulse quickened. “I kind of think he likes that about me.”
“He does.”
I took a deep breath, or at least tried to because I was finding it very hard to breathe. “So I’m wondering when he’s going to figure out he’s good enough for me. I tried to show him once, but he wouldn’t believe me.”
Paul’s eyes locked onto mine and I couldn’t look away if I tried. “Perhaps you’ll need to show him again,” he said so softly that I could barely hear him above the music.
“What happens if he pushes me away again?” I whispered. “There’s only so much rejection a girl can take.”
“I don’t think he’ll push you away.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes. I do.”
“How? He’s not very open about how he feels.”
Paul paused and frowned slightly. “That’s because he’s been spending all of his energy denying his feelings.”
“Why?”
“Because if he lets go, he’s worried about what he’ll do.”
Desire pooled in the base of my stomach with such force it verged on painful. “What would he do?”
Paul leaned in, his stubble brushing my cheek, his lips hovering close to my ear. “Devour her.”
I inhaled a shaky breath and pushed myself away to look at him, my eyes issuing a challenge. “Show me.”
Chapter 20
Paul obviously had far more restraint than me. Instead of dragging me immediately from the room as I secretly hoped he would, he stood and took my hand.
“I promised you a dance.”
“A dance?” I replied dumbly.
Paul leaned in again, his breath on my neck. “Yes, a dance, Madeleine. We have all night and it would be bad form to throw you over my shoulder and take you back to my room right this moment.”
I swallowed. I begged to differ. I wasn’t sure which was making my skin tingle more – the fact that we had all night or the image of him throwing me over his shoulder.
“Come on.”
He tugged me gently toward the dance floor. To my relief, he chose a corner that was dimly lit and close to a pair of open French doors. The gentle breeze felt good on my skin, cooling what felt like a fire burning inside me.
“Come here.” Paul reached over and linked his arms around my waist, sending a shiver up my spine.
The bass was pounding out a steady rhythm and the music was too fast for my liking.
“We can’t slow dance to this,” I complained. “And aren’t you worried about what your client will think?” I was still toying with the idea of him throwing me over his shoulder and taking me back to his hotel room.
“Patience,” Paul admonished, sensing my need. “They all think we’re married anyway and this old guy’s got a few moves left in him yet.”
I let out a frustrated huff which turned to a muted squeak when he closed the distance between our two bodies. Pressed up against him, my obvious dress didn’t do a very good job of leaving anything to the imagination. I could feel the muscles in his chest pushing against my breasts.
“Paul,” I protested, not sure how much more I’d be able to take.
I could feel him smile into my neck as we swayed back and forth to the music. “Is there a problem?”
“I want you.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, but it was the truth.
He leaned back to look into my eyes. “Believe me, I want you too.”
“Then why are we still here?” I was starting to sound like a whining three-year-old.
His lips twitched. “So I can do this.”
His hand came up to brush away my dark mane of hair and he pressed his lips seductively to my neck. He took his time tasting the length of my throat while I melted against him, going limp in his arms. Eventually his mouth found mine, which was when I discovered I was done with restraint. I opened myself to him, tasting him, then biting gently on his lip. It was my turn to smile when he released a soft groan.
“Madeleine,” he warned.
“Shut up. I’m not letting you get away this time.”
I deepened the kiss again and found my hands slipping beneath the material of his jacket, tracing the muscles of his back. I not too discreetly pushed my hips into his and enjoyed the pressure of his need pressed up against me. If we weren’t in a public place I would have slipped my hands into his pants and …
“Enough!” he growled and pushed me away with a gentle shove.
I stared at him in shock.
Ice blue eyes alight with frustration, he grabbed my hand. “We’re leaving.” He pulled me out into the night.
I stumbled after him, my silver sandals slapping on to the pathway erratically as I tried to keep up with him.
“Paul?”
No response, he just kept pulling me down the dimly lit path.
“Paul?” I tried again.
Still no response and I was getting tired of being pulled along like a recalcitrant child.
“Paul!”
He stopped and turned so that I bumped into him.
“What?”
“What do you mean, what?” I flung back exasperated. “One moment I was kissing you and the next you’re losing your temper – ”
“I wasn’t losing my temper – ”
“Well, it sure seemed like it to – ”
“I was escaping before you shredded what little restraint I had left,” he ground out, his eyes flaring at me dangerously.
“Oh.” I gave him a sheepish look. “Too much?”
Paul sighed and stepped toward me, cupping my face gently in his hands. “I’m sorry. Everything about you is too much, Madeleine. You set me on fire.”
Perhaps it was the need in his eyes, focused fiercely on me. Or perhaps it was the adrenaline or longing pumping through my veins. Or quite possibly the fact that it had been four long years. Or that I’d been drinking more than I usually did. I felt something surface in me that I didn’t recognize. Something very un-Madeleine like.
I surveyed the manicured gardens surrounding us and the aqua glow of the empty swimming pool beside us. I glanced in both directions to make sure we were alone then took a deep breath.
I hooked the shoulder strap of my purple dress beneath my thumb and slipped it off one shoulder, then did the same on the other side. The dress slid gently down my body until it was a soft pile of material at my feet. I stepped out of it and kicked off my sandals, standing in front of Paul in nothing but my bra and skimpy underwear.
Paul’s eyes widened and his breathing became shallow.
I gave him a coy smile. “I think we’d better cool off then.” I turned and walked toward the pool’s edge, giving him an eyeful of my backside, then jumped in.
The water greeted my bare skin like a soft caress, warm and soothing. By the time I surfaced and swept my hair from my face, Paul was standing at the edge staring down at me with a mixture of desire and wonder.
“Are you coming in?”
Paul didn’t say anything, he was too busy shrugging off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt. His clothes joined my dress on the ground. I took in the sight of his broad shoulders and bare chest. He still had his trousers on but he kicked off his shoes, then jumped in.
He swam to me and took me in his arms. “Jesus Christ, Madeleine.”
“Too much?” I asked innocently.
“More,” he said, his deep voice strained. Then he kissed me again.
This time his restraint was gone.
This was the Paul I’d been longing for, ever since I’d seen him standing in reception at Grounded Marketing. The Paul that was strong and sure of himself and knew what he wanted. And right now, that was me.
His hands roved over my bare skin underneath the water’s surface, caressing and tracing a trail of fire across my skin despite the cool of the water. His fingers worked their way to my back to undo my bra. I barely noticed it floating away, I was too intent on exploring.
Broad shoulders, strong arms, taut stomach. Hips that felt good in my hands, but he was still wearing those damn trousers.
I gasped as his mouth took my nipple in his mouth, then again as I felt his teeth grazing me. Devour me, indeed. His hands found my hips and then down, down until I could feel his fingers pushing aside my thong. I moaned as they slipped inside me. Then gripped him tight when a deep shudder overtook my body as he expertly found my release. It felt as though the fire I’d seen in his eyes was flaring in my toes. It burnt up my legs and tore its way relentlessly through the rest of my body. It was pleasure and pain and a sort of sweet ecstasy intent on eating me alive. I didn’t want it to stop.
“Paul,” I whispered, pressing my cheek into his shoulder.
“That’s it,” he whispered in my ear. “Don’t fight it.”
Fight it? I didn’t stand a chance. My fingernails dug into his shoulders. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“You’re a goddess, Madeleine,” he said reverently, his fingers not easing up on their assault.
It was that statement that did it. To hear him utter those words to me sent me over the edge. I cried out, quickly smothering the sound by pushing my lips against his neck. The fire engulfed me, eating me alive and I writhed under his grip as wave after wave of shudders overtook my body.
With a final sigh I slumped against him, my heart pounding and my body limp. All he’d done was touch me and I was reduced to a whimpering mess.
He gently eased himself back and ran a hand over my hair. He smiled as he took in my bewildered expression. “You did ask for it.”
“I know.”
I leaned in and kissed him softly, sweetly, and then to his surprise my hand found its way to his trousers. “I don’t believe we’re anywhere near finished yet.”
He groaned. The sound had my blood pumping again. I kissed him harder, taking rather than giving and smiled to myself when I felt him shudder.
I was about to relieve him of his pants altogether when we both heard it.
The sounds of conversation coming toward us.
We stared at each other. “Shit,” Paul muttered, and we both started giggling ridiculously. “Run,” he told me. He looked more like a school boy than a man twice that age.
I bit off my giggle. “You don’t say.”
He pulled himself out of the water in one swift movement and turned around to offer me a hand. I took his outstretched arm and let him hoist me out.
The sounds of the people were coming closer. Quickly, we gathered our discarded clothes and shoes and then set off at a run.
I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I was virtually naked, completely soaked, and running as if my life depended on it.
“My room’s closest,” I called out.
I saw him nod and we took a sharp left and scaled the stairs two at a time, leaving dripping pools of water after us. At my front door, I fumbled in my small handbag for my key. I was terrified some late night couple strolling back to their room would discover us – or worse still, one of Paul’s clients – in our questionable state.
Finally I found the key and we pushed our way inside the front door, slamming it behind us. I reached out and switched on the light, dropping my bundle of clothes on the floor. We looked at each other and dissolved into fits of laughter. Then I watched Paul’s eyes roam over my near naked body – he still hadn’t managed to remove my thong underwater – and the laughter turned to seriousness.
I felt desire stir in the pit of my stomach again.
“Hey.” He pulled me to him and kissed me, his hands cupping my backside.
It was too much. I needed him and couldn’t wait any longer. I eased myself out of the kiss and pulled him into the bathroom. I grabbed a towel off the shelf and used it to pat his chest and arms dry, while he watched on with a look of intense longing.
The corner of my lip quirked as I found his belt buckle. I undid his trousers and let them fall to the floor. My gaze dropped and appreciation lit my eyes as I toweled him dry. I couldn’t help myself. I kneeled down and took him in my mouth, savoring him and running my tongue up and down the full length of him.
