My Double Life: Wild and Wicked (13 page)

“Nice.” He ran a hand up a smooth wooden post supporting a balcony on the second floor that ran the length of the house.

Potted dwarf palm trees dotted the smooth stones around the pool, and a gauzy white tent concealed what he’d guess was an outdoor shower.

“It’s not exactly Fraser-family luxurious, but it’s home.” She paused by a wide bamboo chaise longue, looping her arm through his, her fresh scent teasing his nose.

“Luxury doesn’t have to be over-the-top. This is beautiful.” His father had experienced so much poverty as a kid, it seemed he’d never have enough stuff to make up for it. Courtney’s home, smaller than either of his parents’ places, was probably built in the fifties and had the kind of charm most larger homes could never attain.

Then again, maybe the house’s appeal had more to do with Courtney herself. He liked everything about her. Too much.

“You want to come inside?” she asked softly, her finger dipping just inside the sleeve of his shirt to trail along his wrist.

“Loaded question.” He spun her to face him, needing to forget everything else. Forget everything but her.

“In the house?” She smiled, flirting with him as her finger found the cuff button on his sleeve and slid it through the buttonhole.

Her thumb lingered on his pulse, a simple touch made erotic because it was Courtney. She didn’t need costumes and feathers to turn his head. She could bring him to his knees with just a look.

“Depends.” He mulled over his options. Ready to be with her anywhere at all. Wanting it to be right for her.

She tucked a hand in his other sleeve and undid that cuff, too.

“I’m waiting...” she whispered against his neck, her lips the barest brush of softness along his throat.

Damn. She was just... Damn.

He couldn’t form a thought, let alone words, so he shoved his jacket off her shoulders, tossing the silk aside. Her skimpy dance outfit glittered in the moonlight, the clear sequins making pinpricks of fire over her skin.

“Will you be too cold?” he asked, stepping back to unfasten a button on his shirt and then dragging the whole thing over his head.

Her gray eyes tracked his movements, her gaze dipping low before lifting back up to his face.

She bit her lip as she shook her head.

“Perfect.” He nodded his satisfaction and reached for her, peeling the straps of her spangled bodysuit off her shoulders.

Her flesh was fragrant and supple, and she twined her arms around his neck while the rest of the costume slipped. The fabric caught around her chest, resting on the curve of her high, taut breasts.

Her skin glowed pale, a lock of dark hair twining along her collarbone to rest in the slight cleavage. Palming her spine with one hand, he plucked at the dark strands with the other, smoothing the silky softness between thumb and forefinger. Courtney sighed her pleasure, her head tipped back. Trey felt like the luckiest bastard to see her this way, uninhibited and sensual, her guard down and her fingers hooking into the waistband of his pants.

Gently, he kissed her. She tasted like cinnamon lip gloss, and he took his time licking it off, suckling the full bottom lip to savor every last bit. Her fingers flexed against his scalp, twisting in his hair before she dragged them down the back of his neck, his bare shoulders.

Her hips found his and she arched into him, rocking seductively until he crushed her to him. Her breasts flattened along his chest, their soft weight conforming to him as he peeled her outfit down to her hips. She was naked beneath the sequins, and her nipples beaded against him.

The night air felt warm here, the breeze lessened by the high hedges. Still, he edged them closer to the hot tub, wanting to make sure she wasn’t cold. Besides, he was scorching both of them, his skin so damn hot he’d probably melt the rest of her outfit off in another minute.

She worked the clasp of his belt while he walked her backward to the steaming water. They stepped out of their shoes by a patio table and he ditched his belt near the screen door into the house. While he undid his pants and retrieved a condom from his wallet, she grabbed a remote from a stone bench and punched the buttons to dim the exterior lights. The spa light went off, and the pool light changed to a moody red setting beneath the surface, the floating lotus flowers still flickering above. But his eyes were well adjusted to the dark by now, and he could see her just fine.

Better than fine.

She didn’t wait for him to lead her into the water. As soon as she set down the remote, she kissed his chest. Then moved lower. Trey tried to nudge her toward the pool, but she shook her head and kissed a path down his ribs, settling back on her knees.

He wanted to wait. To get her warm first and pleasure her thoroughly, but she dragged his boxers off with the crook of her finger, and he was lost. Her mouth went around him and he couldn’t do anything but appreciate the feel of her soft, silky tongue gliding around the tip, down the length.

Fire blazed up his spine in answer, his hands knotting in her hair. To stop her or hold her there, he wasn’t sure. He hauled in a ragged breath and looked down at the picture she made, her body twined around his while her hands glided over his hips and down his flanks.

Holy hell.

The sight of her long eyelashes resting on her cheeks, her face a picture of perfect contentment or maybe even pleasure, had him ready to go over the edge. He released her hair and gripped her shoulders, tugging her to her feet against her soft protest.

Just looking at her glistening lips had him so amped up he had to force himself to think about something—anything—else.

With unsteady hands, he tried to focus on removing the rest of her costume. Awkwardly, he slid a hand beneath the silk and sequins to free her hips. Hooking a finger on the strap of a pale G-string, he took that off too in one slow sweep.

Only when she stood there, spectacularly naked, did he lead her into the hot tub. A wide sun shelf formed the first shallow step and he pulled her down onto it. The water level was perfect for what he had in mind, but first he wanted to get her completely wet and very, very hot.

“Come on,” he urged, guiding her down into deeper waters.

She reached over the edge of the tub and hit a recessed button. Bubbles rumbled beneath the surface and then broke, spraying their faces with warm water while hiding their bodies in white foam.

Her sudden smile made him want to kiss her. Taste her. Return the sensual favor she’d given him. Maybe by the time he tasted her, he’d have recovered from what she’d done to him. He still teetered on the verge of coming and he hadn’t even gotten inside her yet.

“You like this?” he asked, tracing her curved lips with his finger.

“I love it,” she told him, her voice steady. Sincere.

He kissed her hard, wanting to seal the moment in his memory forever. Seal her to him.

He licked and tasted, exploring every corner and nuance of her mouth until she wrapped herself around him under the water, locking his hips between her legs. He carried her that way, his hands cupping her hips, back to the sun shelf.

She didn’t protest when he released her mouth to kiss down to the soft hollow at the base of her throat. To lick a circle around each breast and draw the hard tips into his mouth. She bucked toward him, but he pinned her hips with his hands, keeping her in place in the shallow water.

Then he nipped and tasted his way down her slick body, pausing to stir the tiny pool of water nestled in her navel. Pausing a whole lot longer to lick her inner thigh until he rested between her legs, right where he wanted to be. He moved to kneel on the step below the sun shelf, the perfect height to drape her thighs over his shoulders.

Her scent drove him wild, and he breathed her in, licking a path down the seam of her sex. She opened for him, wet and ready, but he took his time lapping along the plump folds of her core until she writhed and moaned. The first time she neared the edge of release, he backed off and built the tension all over again, wanting to take her as high as she’d ever been.

The second time, he couldn’t hold back, and when her spine bowed off the deck, he came at her harder, giving her everything she needed while she rode out the lush spasms.

He’d never seen anything more beautiful than Courtney right then. His head was spinning, his emotions raw as hell when he sheathed himself and entered her in one smooth stroke. He lifted her so she could straddle him, her body so pliant he could have done anything with her.

He wanted to do everything.

But for now, he anchored her waist with his arm and drove in deeper. She buried her nails in his shoulders, her cries sweet, erotic music in his ear until she came again and so did he.

His release went on forever, hot wave after hot wave pulsing through him and into her. She called out his name, collapsing against his chest, and still his body simmered with the aftermath of that release. He wrapped both arms around her, dropping kisses on her damp hair while they found their breath again.

When he could move, he shifted them into deeper water. He helped her to sit sideways on his lap while he rested with his back against the edge of the tub. The motor on the heated spa kicked off, leaving the water tranquil and steaming all around them.

She nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder, her eyes drifting closed. Trey looked up at the stars overhead, feeling lucky as hell to hold her. Too bad the ragged emotions inside him told him he couldn’t afford to risk much more time in Courtney’s arms.

Something had changed between them tonight. A new understanding. A deeper look inside each other. At least, he thought he understood her better, and he was damn sure she’d started to see right through him. And that gave him pause.

Courtney was one of the warmest, most genuine women he’d ever met. She didn’t deserve the drama of the Fraser family, the scandal waiting to happen that was his everyday life. And already, his father knew who she was. Had to suspect something about their relationship.

Would his dad drag her name through the press? Reveal her secrets to her conservative workplace?

“My eyes are closed,” Courtney told him suddenly, never looking up. “But I can hear the wheels moving in your head.”

His low bark of laughter was as pained as it was amused. How the hell had she known that?

“I’m still recovering.” He tipped his head to rest a cheek on the top of her head.

“Liar,” she accused him softly. “I feel the tension in you.” Her hand skimmed to his hip. “And not the good kind.”

As spent as he was, his body responded to her suggestion. He’d trade a lot to forget about the pressures of his professional world and lose himself in her again.

“I don’t like that my father saw us together. It’s going to draw public attention to you.”

“You can’t keep hiding me.” She raised her chin and lifted a hand to his cheek.

“I’m not hiding you.” Although, even as he said it, he understood why she thought as much. “I’m just...trying to protect you.”

“Okay.” She nodded, but from her quick acceptance, he got the impression she didn’t quite believe him. “What if I said I don’t need protecting?”

He thought about her hasty retreat from the conference room that first day he’d met her.

“My life is a glass house.” There was always someone staring in. Judging.

“If I can’t handle myself, I don’t belong in your life in the first place.” Her thumb traced a wet circle on his cheek. “Right?”

“It shouldn’t be like that—”

“But it is. You’re a public figure. You’ll never have a fully private personal life.”

Because it galled him to admit it, he said nothing.

“You know I’m right.” She dropped her hand back in the water and edged away to look him square in the eye. “So give me a make it or break it chance to prove myself.”

“What?” Had he missed part of the conversation? He shook his head, unsure what she was talking about. “You don’t need to prove—”

“Take me to that black-tie gala tomorrow night.”

13

“S
TEP
AWAY
FROM
the mirror.”

Natalie pointed at me with one of her crutches, her order leaving no room for argument. I met her gaze in the wood-framed mirror of my foyer, where I’d been fussing with my hair for the last five minutes. She glared at me menacingly before thrusting a glass of white wine into my line of vision. She’d poured the drink for me an hour ago, and I had yet to touch a drop even though she insisted I needed to relax.

Knowing a command when I heard it—and respecting that she knew best because she hadn’t steered me wrong yet—I finally took the wine and slumped down into a funky seventies chair that my father had sent for my last birthday. He’d never been a big part of my life, but he’d tried to make amends by sending the occasional gift from his buying ventures.

“I’m nervous,” I explained, focusing on the clock now that the mirror was out of the question. We’d started off in my bedroom, but as the time ticked down to Trey’s arrival I’d been too nervous to stay upstairs, peeking out the window every other minute, so we’d moved down to the foyer.

Trey would be here any moment to take me to the gala I’d wanted to attend so badly. Except ever since I’d talked him into inviting me, I’d been asking myself why I’d insisted on this crazy trial by fire when we’d only just started dating. When I’d only just started feeling more confident.

“Stop being so nervous,” Natalie said, resting her ankle on the staircase. “You wanted to go to this black-tie gala. You might as well enjoy the splashy launch party and some good hors d’oeuvres.”

Natalie had come over late that afternoon after I’d made an emergency phone call begging for clothes advice. She’d arrived with three dresses from her own closet, helped me choose a sleek navy blue sheath with a strapless bodice and short beaded hem, then supervised my makeup. In short, she’d been awesome. In return, I’d tried to give her the whole paycheck from my performance last night, but she’d staunchly refused. I managed to sneak half the amount into her purse when she wasn’t looking.

If she tried giving it back, she’d have to deal with my stubborn side.

I sipped the wine, closing my eyes to let the crisp, chilled sauvignon blanc work some relaxation magic. “I just wish I understood why I had to rush into this.”

“You’re not rushing into anything. You’re dating this guy, so why wouldn’t you start attending events with him?” Natalie carefully lowered herself onto a polished oak step. “It’s not like you’re moving in with him.”

“But I told him it would be a ‘make or break’ moment for our relationship. That we needed to know if I fit into his life or not.”

Natalie frowned. “Wow. Way to pile the pressure on yourself.”

I smoothed a hand over the intricately sewn blue beads just above my knee.

“I don’t know what came over me. One minute, we were having a great time in the hot tub—” I’d never go in that hot tub again without thinking about what we did there “—and the next, I’m spouting things like ‘if I can’t handle the public eye, I don’t belong in your life.’”

Along with my new confidence, I seemed to have developed a knack for self-sabotage. One step forward, two steps back.

“You really like this guy
Tom,
don’t you?” She stuck her tongue out at me to remind me she hadn’t forgiven me for hiding Trey’s identity from her at first.

“I’m...” Oh God. I knew exactly how I felt about him, but wasn’t ready to admit it. “I really like Trey.”

My voice sounded funny, deep and husky, and I suspected Natalie understood what I wasn’t saying. I loved Trey. Maybe it was loving him that was making me so adventurous and bold everywhere else in my life. Wise or not, love made you feel like taking risks.

“So just try to have fun tonight.” Natalie set her glass of wine down on a hallway buffet table and limped over to me with the help of a crutch. “Just because you’re thinking of it as a ‘make or break’ night doesn’t mean he is.”

She gave me a quick hug while I tried to pull myself together.

“Okay,” I agreed, just as my doorbell rang.

Panic welled up inside me as Natalie and I exchanged a look.

Trey was right on time. Guess I couldn’t put off my date with destiny any longer.

* * *

H
OLLYWOOD
SURE
KNEW
how to party.

Two hours later, I was circulating around the pool patio at Devoe House, an L.A. home procured for the launch bash of a new film called
Maybe, Baby,
which seemed to be a teen-oriented flick about rich-kid excess.

Or maybe I was blurring the lines of art and reality. Because, as I peered around the sleek pool deck of a home that had apparently once belonged to Marilyn Monroe, I saw youth, wealth and beauty everywhere I looked. This world was privilege and excess defined, right down to the tiny lobster hors d’oeuvres that I saw people take a teeny bite of and then toss.

Were their stomachs too small for two bites? Or was tossing away half-eaten delicacies some kind of status symbol?

“How are you doing?” Trey appeared with a drink for me.

I’d requested a sparkling water with lemon, since I couldn’t afford to drink any alcohol when I needed to stay sharp. So far, I’d smiled a lot and spoken little. Not hard to do when Trey’s friends were all more interested in him than me. Also, I don’t think the waif-like starlets who only ate half a miniscule lobster hors d’oeuvre and draped themselves in Harry Winston’s best really saw me as competition for one of the city’s hottest bachelors.

And yes, I was feeling a bit defensive. Thank God Natalie had loaned me a dress or I would have arrived in one of my office suits. I knew not all launch parties were this fancy, but the
Maybe, Baby
filmmakers had wanted to set the decadent tone for the movie.

Trey stroked my arm lightly. “Hey? You still with me here?”

“Uh, of course,” I almost stuttered, damn it. He’d asked me something, and do you think I could remember?

“Are you okay?”

Ah, right. It wasn’t like he’d asked me a mind-bender. I seriously needed to get a grip. “Great. Things are great,” I answered with a shade too much enthusiasm. “I mean, thank you for bringing me here.”

Trey slid an arm around me and walked us over to the railing for a drop-dead gorgeous view of downtown Los Angeles winking in the distance. Here, we had a little more privacy from the crowd and a bit of quiet away from the DJ, who had set up his mixing board on a raised patio close to the house.

Trey looked fan-freaking-tastic in a tuxedo. His classic good looks and lean muscles seemed right at home in black-tie. Silver cuff links winked in the torchlight, and he appeared as comfortable as if he wore a pair of jeans.

“Thank you for coming with me.” Trey lifted my hand to his lips and kissed the backs of my knuckles, just like something you’d see Cary Grant do in an old film.

I melted inside, my enjoyment of this man chasing away my worries for now.

“But I wanted to,” I reminded him, stepping closer to the rail as a waiter brushed past with a tray of drinks. “I probably pushed too hard for an invitation. I didn’t mean to pressure you into introducing me to your work world.”

“I’m really glad you’re with me,” he said simply. “If I’d come alone, I would have made the rounds and been out the door in forty-five minutes. Having you by my side makes me stay to appreciate the view.”

His eyes were on me as he spoke and my heart squeezed tight in my chest. I wondered how much longer I’d be able to keep a lock on my tender feelings for him. Even now, I wanted to blurt out that I loved him, throw my arms around his neck and hope for the best.

“So this is your world.” I lifted my cut crystal glass in the direction of the Sunset Strip a mile and a half below us. “It’s beautiful.”

In fact, now that I knew this man’s assets inside and out, I realized that he was surrounded by beauty everywhere he went on multiple continents. His life was one of luxury and sophistication. I’d seen it on paper, but I hadn’t felt it in my heart until we’d come here. Maybe the diamond-clad women at this party were right not to consider me real competition for Trey. Even though we stood side by side, our lives had never felt further apart.

He clinked his glass of sparkling water against mine and turned toward me, leaning an elbow on the railing. He curved a hand around my hip to spin me around to face him.

“I’m going to borrow your line from last night,” he said, leaning close to whisper in my ear. “I see the wheels turning in your head, Courtney. What are you thinking?”

Before I could answer, a tall, heavyset man in an ill-fitting suit trundled over, setting his sloshing drink on the rail between us, the scent of alcohol so strong I wondered if it might burn the varnish off the wood.

“Sorry to bother you, Trey,” he began, clapping Trey on the shoulder and giving me the vaguest nod of apology. “I really need to speak to you. You have a minute?”

While I might not fit into this world, I read enough about it to recognize one of the most well-respected filmmakers of our time, Michael Diereda, a man who didn’t need to wear black tie to fit into this crowd. If Trey was going to start his own studio one day, he should be talking to men like this.

“Of course,” I said, even as Trey started to say that now wasn’t a good time. “I was just about to refresh my drink,” I insisted, giving Trey a meaningful look.

I hadn’t been kidding about my commitment to his start-up business. No matter what happened between us personally, I would root for Trey professionally. Even though the thought of losing him gave my heart a painful squeeze.

Wending my way through a crowd that had started to swell since the DJ began playing, I entered the house through one of the many sets of open French doors. The caterers must not have needed to use the opulent kitchen I found myself in, since it was spick-and-span, a small bar set up near the long granite island.

“Courtney Masterson?” A booming voice cut right through the party noise and stopped me in my tracks.

Turning, I saw Thomas Fraser II with a small entourage. Trey’s father wore a tuxedo jacket and white silk shirt but no tie, and his white hair was slicked back for the occasion. A stunning Bollywood starlet with inky dark hair and a tiny silver cocktail dress had one arm wrapped possessively around the producer’s elbow, while several other men and women seemed to circle him like so many constellations around a bigger planet.

Self-consciously, I patted my hair. The last time this man had seen me, I’d been wearing a blond wig and a mask. How had he recognized me?

“Hello, Mr. Fraser.” I offered him my hand the way I would a business acquaintance, but he kissed the back of my fingers in a gesture that perfectly mirrored his son’s.

I wondered if Trey was aware how similar their mannerisms were. He possessed the same vitality and charisma that his father did. Maybe those similarities were part of the reason they butted heads so often.

“I’m glad you talked Trey into bringing you here tonight.” He smiled and gave a subtle gesture to his followers to make themselves scarce. They melted into the crowd, leaving us alone by a wall of windows looking out onto the patio dotted with torches and now overflowing with guests.

“How did you recognize me, Mr. Fraser?” I cut straight to the point, wanting to make sure I understood his motives. Had he wanted me here tonight just so he could call me out as a liar?

“I keep tabs on my son,” he said, tilting his chin up with pride. “He’s been restless and angry with me. I worried he would make a hasty business decision that he would regret just because he was upset. So I’ve monitored his recent business dealings. And I’ve had one of my former security people quietly keeping an eye out for him.”

“You mean...” I let go of his arm, not trusting him. “Are you saying you’ve had someone following Trey?”

“Not all the time.” His chest puffed up in self-defense. “Just enough to find out he wants to open his own film studio to compete with me and that he’s dating a buttoned-up financial researcher who lets her hair down by moonlighting as a...dancer.”

Perhaps I should have felt threatened. He knew information I’d been trying to keep secret. He had the power to get me fired. But all I could think of was Trey and how much this would hurt him. Couldn’t his father see the way his actions alienated his son? I suddenly spotted Trey, seated at a table by the pool with the famous director. As if aware I was looking at him, he turned toward the house suddenly.

The lights were all on in the kitchen, which was slightly elevated above the crowded patio, so he must be able to see me as well as I could see him. Even from this distance, I picked up on the tension in his body language as he rose from his seat.

He must have noticed his father talking to me and was probably headed straight toward us.

“Mr. Fraser,” I laid a hand on the older man’s arm to draw his attention. “You seem like a man who loves your son.”

“He is my flesh and blood,” he said with a low fierceness. “I’ve given him everything.”

“Not your acceptance.” Why should I mince words with someone who set new records for hard-headedness? Thank goodness my father and I had worked out some kind of peaceful relationship over the years. “And not your faith in his business sense. You undermine him publicly.”

If there’d been any chance the elder Fraser would keep my dancing a secret from my employer, I was surely blowing it now. But someone needed to make Thomas Fraser see he didn’t always know best. Trey had helped me find my confidence—my voice. I planned to use it now to help him, even if that meant standing up to his imposing dad.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” The older man’s smile held an outward semblance of manners. Too bad the throbbing in his temple told me he was seconds away from blowing a gasket.

“Sir, I don’t mean any disrespect, but I care enough about your son not to pull punches. I want him to be happy. If only you could—”

“I don’t need advice about my son from an outsider,” he hissed, stepping away from my touch. Several curious stares turned our way.