Stealing Scarlett Page 6

  “Oh, God,” she moaned, driving her fingers into his hair and urging him to continue.

  Taking her hands in his, he forced them down to the desk, holding them at her sides. The act was highly erotic, and she rocked back and forth against him. His tongue worked in slow circles, exploring the delicate jewel as she twisted her body in total abandon. Elevating her hips, she pressed herself against him, mewling with ecstasy as he gently took her between his teeth.

  The sensation was electrifying. A surge of wetness marked her arousal, and she cried out, clutching his hands tightly. She was panting now, lust overtaking her as he lavished attention on the sensitive pearl. Whimpering with pleasure, her legs locked around his waist, and he increased his pace.

  Altering his movements slightly, he let his mouth trail downward, flicking his tongue across the swollen lips of her pussy. Scarlett squealed with pleasure, her body stiffening as imminent orgasm neared. He teased her a moment longer and then plunged his tongue into her depths, a muffled cry filling the room as she struggled to keep from screaming.

  Chase moved back to her clit and set in with a pace that would be her undoing. Letting his tongue glide back and forth, he drove her closer and closer to the brink. She felt like she might explode any minute, the pleasure was so intense. The tingling she’d felt earlier was now a virtual tidal wave, eager to crash over anything in its path.

  “Yes… God, yes…”

  He responded by increasing his rhythm, his tongue mastering her womanhood. She was bucking against him now, undulating wildly as he worked his magic on her body. A shiver ran down her spine and her hips thrust upward, the sound of his name echoing throughout his office.

  “Chaaase!” Orgasm quickly reached its pinnacle, and she was desperate to savor every second of it. Jerking back and forth above the desk, her body stiffened as climax consumed her. His hands slipped over her wrists, squeezing them tightly as the orgasm finally began to ebb.

  The aftermath could only be described as bliss. Gently, he lifted her legs from his shoulders, letting them rest against the desk. Retrieving her panties, he eased them back up her legs to their previous resting place. Covering her legs with the skirt, he smoothed the wrinkles, briefly massaging her thighs through the gauze. A few moments later, he stood up and walked around the desk, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead.

  “You do scream delightfully.” He grinned.

  Staring up at him through lowered lashes, her stomach fluttered as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. He could be remarkably gentle at times. Smiling peacefully, she purred softly and stretched her arms before her. He dipped his head again and kissed her, slipping an arm beneath her shoulders before helping her up. Scarlett pouted at being moved, letting her lower lip jut forward.

  He chuckled softly and placed her on the oversized leather chair. “I’ve reserved a table at Seasons ‑‑ we’ve much to discuss before this evening.” He retrieved the rest of her clothing and handed it back to her. “Would you like to stop by your apartment first?”

  She blushed beneath his gaze. Yes, it would be nice to clean herself up before dropping into a five-star restaurant. The telltale signs of her orgasm were still painted across her cheeks. And God only knew what state her hair must be in.

  “That would be lovely.” Still in a daze, the words felt strange leaving her lips ‑‑ didn’t she loathe this man?

  Amusement flashed in his eyes. He kissed her on the forehead, obviously enjoying the effect he had on her, both physically and mentally. “I’ll bring the car around.” He pulled his keys out of his pocket. “Wait here.”

  Her nod was almost imperceptible. Tiny sparks of electricity were still running through her body, making it difficult to keep her mind off what just took place. She was vaguely aware of him stepping out into the hall and closing the door behind him, but her true focus was on his masterful touch.

  It wasn’t easy to turn her on, let alone bring her to orgasm. Many had tried, none had succeeded without direct assistance on her part. Unlike Chase, they’d never had the confidence required to take charge of the situation. And that was precisely what she needed in a man.

  “Mr. Turner?” Bianca’s voice disrupted her thoughts.

  Leaning forward, she reached for the intercom and pressed the call button. “He’s stepped out for a moment, Bianca. What do you need?”

  “Could you pass on a message from the Italian office?” Bianca asked.

  “Of course.” Scarlett slid a memo pad across the desk and grabbed a pen. “Go ahead.”

  “He’s booked into his favorite hotel for the weekend,” Bianca said.

  Scarlett stopped writing and stared at the intercom. In Italy?

  “Is that all?” Scarlett tried to sound as nonchalant as possible.

  “One more thing,” Bianca replied. “Natalia wants to know if he prefers to dine in or out.”

  A lump formed in the back of Scarlett’s throat. Natalia? Clearly someone he does more than just work with.

  You fool!

  “Thank you, Bianca.” She croaked the words out quickly and released the intercom.

  Feeling like the wind had just been knocked out of her, she sat back in the chair and tried to catch her breath. Clearly, he was not the man she was beginning to hope he might be.

  On the contrary, he’s exactly the man we knew him to be! She crumpled the note in her hand.

  Scarlett felt like she might faint. Her gaze fell on her coat, and she stood up quickly. Heart pounding in her ears, she hurried to other side of the room and snatched her purse and coat from the table. Blinking back angry tears, she threw the door to his office open. She had to get out of here before he came back.

  Chapter Eight

  Tears streaming down her face, Scarlett typed her frequent flyer number into the online form and hit enter. Her eyes felt glazed over by the time the little confirmation window popped open. That was that, then. One flight to Paris, bought and paid for. Well, redeemed, anyway.

  She stood up and headed for the bedroom. Sniffling as she entered it, she headed for the bed and snatched a tissue from the night table. Blowing her nose dramatically, she moaned and plopped down onto her bed. How could her world have gone to hell in less than twenty-four hours time? Screw it. She wasn’t going to let this ruin her weekend. A few days in Paris and she’d forget all about that horrid man. By the time she returned, she’d have a whole new wardrobe. And a new handbag. And anything else she could get her hands on in order to take her mind off that womanizer.

  Sorry, are we punishing him or our wallet?

  Scarlett flinched. She did have habit of abusing her plastic whenever she felt depressed. It was either that or eat cookie dough all weekend. And gaining weight would only add to her misery right now. At least she wouldn’t notice her debt every time she passed by a mirror.

  One last sniffle and she got up and walked to the closet. Pulling the Samsonite carrier down from the top shelf, she opened it up and placed it on the bed. Giving her closet an intense evaluation, she realized she owned quite a few items that had yet to be worn. Racy little numbers, most of them. Things she wished she had the nerve to wear in public, but instead caved to her innate conservatism.

  If we’re going to have a nervous breakdown, let’s go all out.

  Too right.

  Thumbing through every sexy bit she could find, she tossed them into her suitcase. Next step, lingerie. Whipping open her chest of drawers, a sea of dark, dreary colors met her gaze. Her panties were nothing if not practical.

  Parting layer upon layer of muted tones, she bit her lip as she caught a glimpse of red fishnets. Swallowing hard, she slipped her fingers beneath the surface and fished out a handful of lingerie one might find in a brothel. She’d never worn any of it. She ‑‑ more or less ‑‑ just collected it. Oh, she wanted to wear it. She wished she were that liberated. But she wasn’t. Investment bankers simply didn’t wear these kinds of things.

  They do this weekend!

  Before she coul
d change her mind, Scarlett carried the whole lot to her suitcase. Chucking it inside, she slammed the lid down and snapped it shut. For once in her life, she was going to dress sexily. Even if it was only for the weekend, and even if no one but her saw it!

  The sound of her doorbell startled her briefly. Her stomach lurched. Was that him? Did he care that she’d vanished before he returned? Scarlett took a deep breath and walked to her front door. Peering through the peephole afforded a distorted view of someone she couldn’t quite make out.

  Gingerly, she pulled the door open and peered through the crack. It was one of the maintenance men. She couldn’t help but feel disappointed as she let the door swing the rest of the way open. She should have known Chase wasn’t the type to come after her.

  “Ma’am.” The young man touched the brim of his baseball cap. “The water meters have gone haywire and need to be reset. Could I get the numbers from the one in your apartment?”

  Scarlett nodded and stepped back to make way for his toolbox. She led him to the utility closet and helped him pry the heavy doors apart. He nodded his thanks and pulled out a pen and some paper, jotting the numbers down quickly.

  “Would you like to confirm them, ma’am?” He looked over his shoulder at her.

  “What?” She stammered distractedly. Her mind was still on him, damn it! “No, no, I trust you.” She forced a smile.

  He beamed a toothy grin and pushed the doors shut. “That’ll do ’er.”

  “I’ll show you out.” Scarlett tried to sound gracious, but knew the best she could manage right now was sullen. And it was all his fault. Here she was, riddled with angst like a Jane Austen heroine, while he supped in luxury at the Four Seasons Hotel. She hoped he wound up with indigestion!

  As she passed the kitchen and neared the living room, she glanced behind her to ask the janitor a question. “Why don’t the elevators sound an alarm when the Run/Stop button is pulled?”

  “I don’t know.” He sounded surprised by the question. “I guess because, if it’s stopped, the passengers wanted to stop it and aren’t in any danger.”

  “Wanted it?!” She huffed loudly as she faced forward again. “I’ll have you know ‑‑”

  She nearly choked on her words as Chase’s large form materialized in the doorway. Judging from the amused look on his face, he’d been standing there long enough to hear the question. She blushed ‑‑ something she was getting very tired of doing!

  “Mr. Turner!” the young man exclaimed. “It’s been a year if it’s been a day, sir!”

  “That it has, Jefferson.” Chase smiled warmly. “Does Ms. Montgomery need something serviced?”

  Scarlett’s jaw dropped, and she was grateful the other man couldn’t see her crimson cheeks.

  “Naw, sir.” The innuendo had obviously escaped him. “Just needed to verify her water meter. Been a malfunction downstairs.”

  “I’m in Daniel Blake’s apartment now ‑‑ do you need to check there as well?” Chase asked.

  “If you don’t mind, sir.” Jefferson nodded.

  “Not at all.” Chase glanced at his watch. “Ms. Montgomery and I have business to discuss. Could you come back when you’ve finished with the others?”

  “No problem.” The janitor headed for the door. “Have a good day, ma’am.” He tipped his cap and smiled as he exited the apartment.

  Scarlett mouthed a quiet “thank you” as he left. It was unlikely anyone heard it, though. She’d lost her voice the second Chase had appeared. In fact, she’d lost several things. The ability to walk being one of them. The ability to breathe being another.

  Chapter Nine

  Chase closed the door and turned the lock, all the while keeping his eyes on her. “Something you’d like to tell me?” He walked over to the loveseat and sat down.

  “Make yourself comfortable!” She squawked indignantly.

  “Thank you.” He smiled sweetly and patted the cushion beside him. “Come join me.”

  “Who do you think you’re talking to?” she screeched and stomped over to the sofa, bending forward as she spoke.

  He only smiled in return, his gaze drifting downward. She glanced down at herself and cringed. She’d just given him a bird’s-eye view of her breasts. A view he was clearly enjoying, if the twinkle in his eye meant anything. Pulling herself up to her full height, she took a few steps back toward the piano. Crossing her arms, she leaned against it and did her best to appear nonchalant.

  “Why are you here?” She tried to sound as disinterested as possible.

  “I’ll be out of town for the weekend, possibly longer ‑‑ you’ll need to cover for me while I’m away.” He grabbed a photo album from the coffee table.

  Scarlett’s heart felt like it was about to implode. He wasn’t even pretending to give a crap about her. “The office is closed on weekends.” She spoke through gritted teeth.

  “A very important client is about to sign with us.” He flipped through the photos. “Granger Trust has an eight o’clock appointment for Wednesday morning. You’ll need the entire weekend ‑‑ and then some ‑‑ to learn the ins and outs of their business, in case I’m not back by then.”

  She couldn’t believe it. It was as if he’d totally forgotten everything that had taken place in the last twenty-four hours. Taken place this morning, for Christ’s sake! “Why can’t they be rescheduled?” Her eyes narrowed, thoughts of him cavorting through Rome with Natalia flooding her mind.

  “You don’t reschedule clients of this magnitude.” He pulled a photo out of the book and gave it his undivided attention.

  “Is this the only reason you’re here?” She could feel a tightness growing in her chest, fresh tears threatening to give her away.

  “Yes.” He paused and looked up, one brow slightly raised. “Unless you’ve another matter to discuss?”

  This was just a game to him. And she was just a prize, easily won and easily forgotten. He’d broken through her defenses ‑‑ in record time, no less ‑‑ and now he was moving on to another female in another office, in another country. “As it happens, I do.” Scarlett squared her jaw. “I’ll be in Paris for the weekend. You’ll need to find another lackey.”

  The faintest look of surprise crossed Chase’s face, and she felt an immeasurable sense of satisfaction. “How exciting.” He slipped the photo back into the album and turned the page over. “Running away from anything in particular?”

  Rage, combined with a healthy dose of embarrassment, struck her like a thunderbolt. “Get out!” Scarlett lunged at him and grabbed the book, jerking it with all of her might. Unfortunately, his might was a bit more substantial. One good yank from his powerful arms, and she collapsed in his lap.

  “Someone has a temper.” He tsked softly as he pulled her onto his lap, a knee on either side of him. “What should we do about that?”

  “I hate you and that condescending tone of yours!” She tried to push herself up from the sofa.

  “No, you don’t.” He placed a hand against the back of her head and pulled her toward him.

  Their lips met, and she groaned against his mouth, furious with herself for returning the kiss. Arms wound tightly about her waist, then slipped beneath her bottom and held her close as he stood up. Striding forward, he placed her on top of the piano, her legs hanging over the side. His lips moved to her neck, branding her skin with fiery kisses. Tilting her head back, she moaned loudly as he discovered the sensitive hollow of her throat. Her hands went to his waist, pulling him closer, letting him press against her inner thighs.

  “Still hate me?” His words caressed her cheek.

  “Let me go,” she replied breathlessly.

  “Where to?” he murmured, his hands exploring her back.

  Goose bumps ran down her spine as he touched her. Her head was spinning, again. How could he do this so easily? “Paris.” She turned her head, unable to look him in the eye.

  “I’m afraid that won’t be possible.” His tone was suddenly gruff as he lowered her to the flo
or.

  “Says who?” Scarlett tried to get her breathing back under control as she narrowed her eyes.

  “Your boss.”

  “Then we’ll have to rectify that!” She stepped forward. “I quit!”

  You what?! Take that back! Immediately!

  He stared at her in silence, his lips forming a tight line. Scarlett swallowed hard, her words echoing through her mind. This was it. The end of a brilliant career. She’d be blacklisted for sure, now. But at least she’d still have her dignity.

  “One chance to retract that.” His gaze was stern.

  “No.” She turned her nose upward.

  Hazel eyes betrayed a storm brewing in their depths. “When do you leave?” He walked to the front door and pulled it open.

  “In the morning.” She held her nails up, pretending to inspect them out of boredom.

  Giving her one last look, he squared his shoulders and walked out the door, letting it slam behind him. She stared at the doorknob for a moment, trying to will her feet forward. To chase him down the hall and take it back. But it was too late, and the tears were already falling.

  Chapter Ten

  Chase walked over to the minibar and poured himself a scotch. “Care for a drink, Jefferson?”

  A wistful look crossed the other man’s face. “Thank you, sir, but I’m still on duty.”

  “Not anymore, you’re not.” Chase poured a second glass and handed it to him.

  “Mr. Turner, if Gus catches a whiff of that when I return the keys, I’ll be fired on the spot.”

  Chase extended his arm and opened his hand. “Give me the keys, I’ll take them back myself.”

  Jefferson’s face lit up. “Really? You don’t think Gus would mind?”

  “I can handle Gus.” Chase beckoned him forward. “Give me the keys.”

  The handyman pulled the mass of metal out of his toolbox and handed them over. Chase furrowed his brow before tossing them onto the bar. He hadn’t realized the kid would be carrying such a mess of them ‑‑ a key to every apartment. But then, he supposed that was the point. Rubbing the back of his neck, Chase sank down into the leather recliner and sighed. “You have a girlfriend, Jefferson?”