BAD BOYS ON BOARD Read online

  "For what? Rejection? The best I could hope for would be a nonplussed expression, followed by a very uncomfortable cab ride."

  "I could toss out the trifle expression that you'd never know until you tried, but you—"

  "Would toss right back that I've been faced with enough humiliation, thanks. I wasn't cut out to be provocative. Some of us aren't. So I'll have to find my future romances the old-fashioned way."

  "Which is?"

  "Letting well meaning friends fix me up with the remaining single relatives they have left in their families. Agonizing over what to wear, how far you'll go on your first date, then going out to dinner, smiling, nodding at appropriate moments during what turns out to be interminably boring small talk, discovering there's a really good reason why he's the last single man in your best friend's family tree, no longer worrying if you have spinach stuck in your teeth because you're not going to kiss this guy good night anyway."

  He couldn't help it, he laughed. "Sounds quite horrific."

  "It is, trust me. But what's a single girl to do? Bar crawling lost its appeal during my college years. Singles groups and spa memberships fell by the wayside shortly after that. I don't have time for civic or charitable organizations, being my own charitable organization of late, and the only unmarried guy in my neighborhood under the age of seventy-five, while gorgeous, spends the occasional few minutes we spend picking out fruit at the corner stand, commiserating with me over the lack of single men. So blind dates are pretty much all that are left."

  "I still say you're limiting your scope. Surely there are other men at that fruit stand … thumping their melons, as it were."

  She snickered. "Not that I've noticed. And I realize just how whiny I sound, here. Honestly, finding a man isn't something I spend an overt amount of time thinking about, nor do I think that a woman necessarily needs a man in her life to be happy or fulfilled."

  The reverse being true as well, he thought. Or at least he had.

  "I'm very happily focused on rebuilding a career," she went on determinedly, sounding almost too determined, if there was such a thing. "And despite the long hours and hard work, I very much enjoy working for Stephanie. In fact, just before she left tonight, she offered to hire me full time. So, it's not like I'm going to have a lot of time for romance in my life anytime soon, anyway."

  He spoke without questioning the wisdom of revealing the troubling direction his thoughts had taken. "A few hours ago I would have heartily agreed with that assessment," he said quietly. "Applauded it even."

  "But not now?"

  "I'm not sure." He rubbed at the spot in the center of his chest, as if he could assuage the odd ache that lay somewhere below it, then realized what he was doing and pulled his hand away. "Maybe it's simply a matter of flowing toward what comes more easily to us, whether it's business, sex, love. Not to say we don't risk rejection anyway, just that, as you mentioned before, we're confident enough in our skills in whatever area we've chosen, not to allow it to affect us too deeply, or ultimately sway us away from it."

  "And you're telling me you lack confidence in yourself in one of those areas?"

  "Don't sound so surprised."

  "You don't strike me as someone who is unsure of anything."

  "Appearances are deceiving." Hers certainly were. Dutiful and loyal assistant, willingly subordinate to her boss in order to get ahead … and yet, on the inside, maybe still yearning to be a provocateur, the dominant one, a sexual aggressor. His body hardened at the thought of being the man who guided her down that particular carnal path. She was sharp, focused, and in tune enough with her body's needs to know she wanted things beyond what she'd experienced thus far.

  "It's well documented that you made your first million when most guys were still in college," she said. "You have women throwing themselves at you right and left, and considering you didn't refute my opinion of you as an alpha male, I'm guessing the women you catch aren't complaining later."

  "Which rules out business and sex, but not—"

  "Love?"

  Dominic fell silent.

  "Is it that you don't believe in it?" she asked, when the silence dragged on. "Or are you simply too jaded to fall prey to it?"

  "Jaded. I suppose I would qualify there." But he knew that was the easy out. She'd confessed her weaknesses, her vulnerabilities … so it was only fair that he respond in kind. Despite the fact that he'd never once thought of doing so with anyone else. But why shouldn't he? After all, this was one midnight confession that wouldn't likely come back to haunt him. Callie Montgomery was not a gameplayer or a gold digger with an agenda. He had every expectation that they'd exit this elevator come morning and go on their merry ways, back to their busy lives, never to give this conversation another thought. So there was no real risk.

  And yet he hesitated even after he'd opened his mouth. Let someone inside your head, instead of just your body or your wallet. Isabella's words echoed through his mind. Risk indeed.

  "I'm not sure what I believe," he said quietly, as much to himself as to her. "I've never given it much thought, really." He let out a short laugh. "Which I suppose is worse, really, than actually having an opinion on the matter, isn't it?"

  "So, you're saying you've never been in love? Not ever?"

  "Boyhood crushes, perhaps. But I was focused on other achievements at a fairly early age. Didn't leave much room for anything else. I suppose, after a time, it became habit, patterned behavior."

  "Well then, it's more a matter of making room in your life to allow it to happen then, isn't it? Or meeting the person who makes you want to make room." She made a little sound of amusement. "Sounds like you're the one missing out on opportunities."

  He thought about that. Isabella had said much the same thing to him, that if she'd been the right one, he'd have wanted to make time for her. Would have instinctively done the right thing. He doubted her then, but now…? "I'd like to believe that," he said, realizing as he said it how much he meant it. "But there have been some very wonderful women in my life, deserving women, and I haven't felt that … whatever it is one feels to justify the truth in all that romance mumbo jumbo."

  "Jaded indeed," she said. "But just because a person is wonderful doesn't mean she's the right person. You know, the one. Or maybe it means you're not giving her the chance. Have you allowed yourself to be swayed by that romance mumbo jumbo? Give in to that first rush of emotion? Beyond the sexual rush, I mean," she added pointedly.

  "I'm not sure I'd have the first clue how. Or that I've felt that specific, nonsexually oriented rush you talk about."

  "Oh, I find that very hard to believe."

  He wished he felt otherwise. "I understand the grand gesture as well as the smaller, meaningful one. But romance, so I've been told, is more than flowers or a weekend in Paris."

  Callie laughed. "It's a damn good place to start while you're looking for it though."

  He smiled, but it faded quickly. "Romance, the kind you're speaking of at any rate, is more than that. What you mean is the whole of the emotional involvement between two people. The longing to please one another, the need to fulfill your partner in some way beyond the material gesture, a way that brings pleasure and satisfaction to both of you on some deep, intimate level that goes far beyond the physical."

  Callie sighed. "I don't know. I think that was the best description of how romance should be that I've ever heard. You're more in touch than you think. And maybe it's a matter of being more distracted than jaded."

  "Well, I can describe it." Thanks to Isabella anyway. "But I haven't the first bloody idea how to experience it."

  "So, you're saying we're both emotionally stunted, then." She'd said it in a clearly amused, self-deprecating way. But he responded dead seriously.

  "No, what I was saying was that you could be intensely sexually provocative but you'll never find out because you don't dare to."

  "Then it follows that you could be the most romantic, emotionally in tune man on the planet. But
you'll never know either because you write yourself off without even trying. We are stunted."

  Again, silence descended between them and Dominic found himself swearing silently. What in the hell had gotten into him? Isabella's rejection shouldn't have sent him into this kind of ridiculous tailspin. It was probably just the prolonged isolation, sitting here in the dark, with nothing better to do than dwell on the supposed weaknesses of his, which she'd so carefully itemized and detailed for him.

  He'd thought he was merely provoking Callie because she was so ripe for the provocation. How he'd allowed himself to become the subject of this conversation he had no idea. Worse yet, Callie hadn't started it, he had. What he could do, however, was shut the hell up. He was facing the largest merger he'd ever put together, which meant the next ten days were likely to be the most frenetic and most important of his entire life. He had no time for this … this…

  "So," Callie said softly, easily breaking his train of thought, "if we wanted to change that … it means we have to be willing to risk it, right? That I'd have to be willing to…"

  She paused for so long, he didn't think she was going to finish. Only he wasn't relieved at the thought, wasn't hoping she'd give up and let it drop so he could spend his time thinking about more important things, the so very important things he spent every waking second of every day thinking about. Not one of which he could force to mind at that very moment.

  Because his entire attention had been neatly captured by this one purportedly invisible brunette. And he was dying, sitting so still he wasn't even drawing breath as he literally strained to hear her next words.

  "Just how would a person go about finding her inner sexually provocative self?" she queried, more to herself than to him. "Where do I begin?"

  His body tightened, surprising him with the ferocity of his sudden reaction.

  "I mean," she went on, her tone a bit less confident now, but nonetheless determined. "I've had romance, I've had intimacy. I know what love is, and I don't want it in my life right now. I don't have time for it anyway. But I do miss the other parts. The zing of awareness, the rush you get when you look at someone and want him. Instantly, immediately, totally. So, maybe it's time I figured out how to go after those parts, just reach out and take what I want. Maybe it's a self-fulfilling prophecy that works both ways. If I don't believe it will happen, it won't. But if I just believe, then…"

  Dominic could have told her she was doing a damn fine job of it without even trying. He had to curl his hands inward to keep from reaching for her right then and there. It was insane, this sudden need he had to yank her against him, where he could prove to her quite easily that she was a bloody lot closer to achieving her goal than she knew.

  She laughed, but this time it was tinged with a bit of resignation. "A shame we can't compare notes when the opportunity arises. I could tutor you on the finer points of emotional entanglements. At least the 'what not to do' parts anyway, and maybe a few of the 'to do' parts," she added a bit wistfully. "And you could mentor me in—"

  "Name one thing you would do in this elevator with a man you want," he said abruptly and somewhat heatedly. But he was only human damn it and she'd pushed him far enough. "If you knew he'd respond positively to anything you requested, name the first thing you'd tell him to do."

  He tried to slow his heart rate down, so he could hear her slightest intake of breath, but it was impossible. Bugger if she didn't have him riled up in a way he couldn't remember being riled in a very long time. Ever, perhaps. He knew it was strictly the situation they'd found themselves in, that neither of them would perhaps react like this in any other place or time. But they weren't in any other place or time. They were here. Alone. Together. And while he didn't want any of her instructional tutoring on the finer points of romance and love … he was pretty damn sure he could take care of one or two of her concerns.

  He might not have experienced that exquisite torture of prolonged sexual tension in some time, but he bloody well hadn't forgotten what it felt like. And the tension singing between them at the moment was thick enough he was surprised it hadn't fogged the air.

  "Tell me," he repeated. "We'll consider it lesson number one."

  "In?" She breathed the word, her voice hardly more than a hoarse whisper.

  He leaned forward, knocked off one of her high heels and drew a slow line with his finger up the center of the sole of her foot. She shuddered, then gasped when he closed his hand around her ankle.

  "In how to provoke a man into giving you whatever you want."

  Chapter Four

  Callie swore she'd swallowed her tongue the instant he'd touched her. Either that or her libido was so firmly lodged in her throat she was going to choke on it instead. Either way she couldn't answer him.

  Dear God, had he really just said what she thought he'd said? And did he mean to be that man?

  His hand on her ankle said yes.

  She rubbed her arms … and pressed her thighs together. Surely she was misunderstanding—

  "Tell me what you want done to you, Callie," Dominic said, his voice dark and rough, his accent making the words even more commanding.

  She opened her mouth, but surely she couldn't just say it. Hell, she didn't even know what to say. Isn't this about taking risks? her little voice nudged. Well, hypothetical risk-taking was one thing. Leaping head first into the fire for real was quite another.

  "Is it the idea of doing something sexual in an elevator that's so distasteful," he asked, his fingers lightly stroking the inside of her ankle. "Or that you'd be putting yourself in an explicit situation in public?"

  She started to speak, but was forced to clear her throat—twice—before she could finally answer. "Exhibitionism isn't a big turn on to me."

  "Because it was to your ex."

  He'd made it a statement. And based on what she'd said earlier, she could see why he thought he was right. "I don't think I'd consider it anyway. The thrill of being caught, literally, with my pants down, instills panic, not lust."

  "So, the idea of a man having his way with you in the backseat of a taxi—"

  "Isn't one of my fantasies, no."

  "Well then, what is?"

  She'd walked right into that one. "I—" She broke off, suddenly aware of just how unreal it was that she was actually sitting in the dark, even contemplating revealing her most basic desires to Dominic Colbourne.

  "Just one," he commanded softly.

  "I—I don't have specific … scenarios."

  "So, it never once crossed your mind, when you stepped into this elevator, what it would be like if I caught your eye, noticed a flicker of interest, and … pursued it." His hand tightened ever so imperceptibly.

  She tried not to squirm, certain he would know then just how much his words, the images they painted, were affecting her. This was a lesson … a discussion … not reality. No matter how badly she wanted it to be. "But you didn't," she managed. "And anything I did wouldn't have changed that. Only made you uncomfortable."

  "I'm not uncomfortable now."

  "But you're also not—"

  "Oh. But I am."

  There was no questioning what he'd meant. Just as there was no stifling the tiny gasp that slid out between her lips when he drew his fingers along her calf. "So, you're … we're … what, role playing?" she asked, tentatively, not sure what answer she wanted him to give.

  "Hardly."

  Her remaining breath left her in a silent whoosh. "Now I've made you uncomfortable," he said.

  "Hardly," she said, before she could stop herself. "I—I mean—"

  His fingers skated back to her foot and he began to knead her arch. The shock of pleasure that brought made her moan before she could stifle it.

  "You mean the kind of discomfort this brings you…" He once again stroked a finger down the center of the sole of her foot. Her shuddering reaction to even that minimal stimulation was palpably intense, "isn't all that uncomfortable?"

  She said nothing.

&nb
sp; "Say it, Callie."

  Dear God, his voice was downright hypnotic. Did she dare let him pull her under the spell he was rapidly weaving? Here in the dark? Away from everything that was real?

  "No," she breathed, then held her breath while she waited to see what he'd do next.

  "You like my hands on you."

  She nodded, trying not to whimper when he took his hand away. She should have known this was too good to be true.

  "You like my hands on you," he repeated.

  She hadn't realized he expected an answer. "Yes."

  "Then tell me where you want me to put them. And I will."

  She heard the rustle of fabric, then detected the scent of his cologne as the air shifted when he moved closer to her. When he spoke, his voice was intensely close, almost touching her ear.

  "You've provoked me, Callie," he said, making her skin prickle in awareness and her heart begin a rapid tango inside her chest. "With your words, your thoughts, your laughter."

  "I—I didn't mean to. Not … like this."

  Now he chuckled, and it made her squirm. Pleasurably so.

  "So, you'd rather I retreat to my corner?"

  She shifted slightly, knowing, even though she couldn't see him, that his mouth was a mere breath away from hers.

  "Tell me to go away," he said softly, his voice vibrating in the dark. "Tell me not to touch you, not to do whatever you command me to do … and I'll stop this."

  She felt his mouth brush against hers. Not quite a kiss, more a fleeting impression of warmth, of softness.

  "Tell me," he commanded, his lips by her ear. "Tell me you don't want me to want you."

  She shivered. "I—" Dear Lord, what was she about to do?

  His teeth briefly pinched her earlobe. How did he know right where she was? He didn't fumble, didn't touch any part of her other than the part he meant to touch. In the dark, knowing he was so close, yet totally unaware of his intentions, of where he'd touch her next, had her fighting to sit still.

  He brushed her lips with his fingertips. She quivered. "Can you see me?" The darkness was complete, and her eyes weren't ever going to adjust enough to be able to see him. How had his?