The Tycoon's Captured Heart (2 page)

Scarlett shook her head and glanced down at the countertop where the caterers had stacked up various serving platters and silverware.  They’d provided most of the items for the reception, but she’d supplemented with a few of her own favorite pieces.  Grayson didn’t want to know what she was thinking though.  He’d be uncomfortable if he ever knew all the fantasies starring his magnificent physique.  “Nothing important.  Thanks for your help cleaning up,” she told him as she loaded up the dishwasher.  “The caterers did most of the cleanup.  Thanks for hiring them,” she told him.

Scarlett turned around but she wasn’t aware that Grayson had been so close.  Suddenly, his muscular arms were around her waist, holding her steady and everything changed.  He was here.  His arms were around her.  All the emotions and feelings she’d hidden from this man rose up, her mouth falling open as she realized at least a small part of her fantasy coming true.  Now, if only he would…

In just her stocking feet, the top of her head didn’t even come up to his chin.  She stared at his neck, seeing his Adam’s apple move slightly. 

Looking up at him, seeing the same desire in his eyes that she was feeling, she wanted to shout at him to do something about it, to make a move. 

But he pulled back, his hands slipping off of her waist. 

Scarlett sighed with frustration.  The moment was gone. 

Someday, somehow she would build up enough courage to just walk up to him and kiss him, to show him how much she loved him. 

Unfortunately, today wasn’t that day. 

“Go to bed,” he told her, his deep voice huskier than normal.  “I’ll sleep in the guest room.”

Scarlett gripped the edge of the countertop.  “There’s no need.  But thank you.”

Grayson saw the sadness in her eyes and reacted to it.  There was no way he was letting her sleep in this house alone tonight.  She was sad, exhausted, vulnerable and looking more beautiful than any woman he’d ever known in his life.  “There’s every need,” he argued.  “Go to bed, Scarlett.”

Scarlett watched him for a long moment and thought she could detect a battle waging inside the man.  Was she just imagining that?  Or was she hoping that he was fighting the same demons, the same desire that she was battling?

In the end, she just walked out of the kitchen, bowing her head with both fatigue and frustration as she walked up the stairs. 

Grayson watched the woman of his dreams, literally and figuratively, walk up the stairs, her shoulders sagging with the pain of her loss. 

If he thought it would make a difference, he would take her into his arms and kiss her until she was shivering with excitement.  But that was what
he
needed.  Scarlett just needed a friend, someone to be there for her.  She definitely didn’t need a lust-filled night of sex.  Sex that would take their minds off of the loss of the man they all loved very deeply. 

When she turned the corner and he couldn’t see her any longer, he bowed his head and tried to get a grip on this need.  He’d wanted her for so long, he felt as if he was damned to eternal, unsatisfied sexual need.  Every once in a while he would find a woman that he’d hoped would take his mind off of his feelings for the beautiful blond woman, but after a few weeks or, if he were lucky, a few months, he would accept that she wasn’t Scarlett.  So far, no woman had been able to obliterate his hunger for the slender blond with blue eyes that could look deep into a man’s soul and make him want to be better. 

He poured another slug of scotch and slung it back, wishing that it could help ease the need.  It never did.  Nothing helped.  Nothing but a few weeks in a bed with that woman would help him.

And since that was out of the question, he was doomed. 

“Hell,” he muttered and went around the house, turning off lights and making sure the doors were locked.  He glanced out through the windows and saw his bodyguards patrolling the perimeter.  At least he could keep her safe, he thought.  It wasn’t much, but it was something. 

When all the lights were turned off, he walked up the stairs, turning right and moving into the guest bedroom.  It was decorated in masculine colors which soothed him.  Not as much as being in her frilly bedroom might, he thought.  He didn’t give a damn what the bedroom looked like as long as Scarlett was curled up next to him.  Or underneath him.  Or on top of him.

“Hell,” he said again and stepped into the bathroom, turning the water on in the shower so that it was as cold as possible.  It only helped marginally.  Stepping out of the shower, he dried himself off and slipped into bed. 

Staring up at the ceiling, he wondered what Scarlett was doing.  Was she crying?  She’d buried her last relative today.  It had been a long day, full of tearful remembrances as well as happy ones.  It had ended well, he thought, overall.  Would she still be upset?

And what the hell was going on with the other guys tonight?  There had been some strange looks passing among them.  He had no idea what was wrong, but they were all meeting for breakfast tomorrow.  He’d demand answers as soon as he got them all alone. 

Scarlett lay in bed, her eyes staring up at the ceiling and wondering what Grayson was thinking about.  He was so close.  What would he do if she slipped into his bed, curled up next to him?  She’d decorated that bedroom with him in mind, making sure all the colors were dark and masculine, that the bed was long enough for his enormous height and that all of the toiletries were there for his convenience. 

Would he find the toothbrush?  And the shampoo he preferred?  The only reason she knew which products he liked was because she’d stayed in his homes over the years.  She’d snooped as she’d decorated his living spaces.  And Scarlett had savored every detail she discovered about the man.  She’d felt like a stalker, but what was a woman to do?  She was so in love with the man, so proud of all he’d accomplished.  He was extraordinary and no other man could compare.  His features were harsh to some, but she loved that granite hard jawline, that slight dimple in his cheek that not many people saw because it was only revealed when he smiled.  Unfortunately, Grayson didn’t smile often.  Oh, and that thick black hair, making his jaw shadowed even though he might have shaved just hours ago. 

Goodness, everything about the man enticed her – from his broad shoulders to his large feet.  She smiled into the darkness, wondering if the thing about feet and penis-size was true.  She could feel her face flaming even in the darkness and she rolled over, groaning at the image of a naked Grayson popping into her mind.  Pulling the pillow over her head, she tried very hard to keep herself from thinking about him.  About all those muscles and the way he could look at her and she knew…she just knew that he was thinking about her. 

Oh to be inside that man’s head, she thought. 

Or maybe not.  She didn’t want to know if he still thought of her as a little girl.  She was a woman now.  And she had needs like any other woman! 

She should just find another man to date.  A blond man, she thought.  Someone short and skinny.  Someone who was easy to talk to.

The complete opposite of Grayson!

Scarlett sighed and rolled onto her side, punching the pillow.  That wasn’t completely true and she was simply creating problems with Grayson and her relationship with him to make herself feel better.  There had been many times that she and Grayson had talked for hours!  Just a few months ago at Stefan’s wedding, it had ended up being just the two of them talking after everyone else had gone to bed.  That had been nice, she thought.  All the others had their spouses and had been eager to sneak up to their suites at the hotel, but she and Grayson had been…well, they’d sort of been stuck with each other.  And it had been so nice, dancing in his arms, walking down the aisle on his arm. They’d just been bridesmaid and groomsman, but she’d pretended like it was their wedding, that she’d just promised her life to his and they would live happily ever after. 

She sighed again and the sound echoed throughout the room.

She wasn’t ever going to get any sleep, she muttered. 

Slapping the sheets back, she slipped out of bed.  Listening carefully, she didn’t hear anything.  Noises from Grayson’s room were silent now, indicating that he was asleep.

Slipping out of her room, she tiptoed down the hallway.  She’d just made it to the top of the stairs when an arm swooped under her stomach, lifting her up and pressing her against the hallway wall. 

“Scarlett?” Grayson snapped as soon as he realized it was her and not an intruder.  “What the hell are you doing?”

Scarlett wasn’t hurt but she was definitely stunned.  The man wasn’t wearing a shirt!  And…well…she was wearing one of his! 

“What are you wearing?” he demanded softly but with a definite husky quality to his voice when his eyes moved down her figure.  His voice was even deeper as he said, “Hey, that’s my shirt.” 

Darn him for the stupid monogrammed initials, she thought!  “I…um…couldn’t sleep.  I was just going downstairs for some warm milk.”

He looked down at her, not sure if he believed her or not.  “Where did you get my shirt?” he asked. 

He was trying very hard not to react, but her soft body felt so incredibly good against his.  And he’d only paused to pull on his slacks before he came out of his bedroom to find out who was sneaking around the house.  Never would he have imagined that it was Scarlett.  In his shirt! 

And she looked hot!  Her long, slender legs were poking out the bottom and she hadn’t buttoned it up high enough on top.  He could see the curve of her breast, the shadow of her cleavage.  Damn, she smelled good!  Hell, she always smelled good. 

“You couldn’t sleep,” he repeated, his mind trying to figure out what that really meant because the words weren’t sinking in.  Not with Scarlett in his arms, practically naked.  And smelling better than anything he’d ever smelled before! 

“I couldn’t sleep,” she whispered.  She could feel her breasts swelling, her nipples puckering as she pressed against his hard, muscular chest.  She could smell the musky, masculine scent of him and the toothpaste he’d used.  His hair was still damp and…oh, that chest! 

When her hands fluttered around then slowly settled onto his bare skin, she tested movement, feeling the warmth under the steel of his muscles.  He was real, she thought.  His skin was warm and amazing.  Her fingers moved again, feeling the slight layer of dark hair and that felt even better. 

She wasn’t aware of her hips moving, shifting to accommodate him better.  But she was desperately aware of his erection, of the way it pressed into her belly.  From what she could feel, that thing about big feet…it was true! 

“Grayson,” she whispered his name, her body shifting once again, her fingers moving along his skin.  He hadn’t moved an inch except for his hands tightening on her waist. 

She looked up at him, could barely see his eyes but she knew that they were a deep brown, so special and so amazing.  They saw everything. 

“Would you…” she hesitated, unable to say the words that would bring his head down. 

Grayson heard the strange sound in her voice and his body hardened even more.  Could Scarlett possibly want him as much as he wanted her?  Impossible.  But then her hips shifted again.  He felt her fingers move lower on his chest. 

All the signs were there, but he still didn’t move.  He didn’t release her, but he didn’t react to the signs that, with any other woman, would have told him to lift her into his arms and make love to her.  Not Scarlett.  She didn’t think of him that way. 

And yet, her fingers moved again.  He caught the look underneath those long, dark eyelashes even in the dim light from the moon outside the window. 

With a growl, he bent his head, testing the signals.  He wouldn’t kiss her.  Not like he wanted to.  But just a chaste kiss.  A kiss on her cheek.  A brotherly kiss, he promised. 

She moved her head, catching that kiss on her lips.  He didn’t move for a long moment but then her lips shifted under his.  He felt that.  For perhaps a fraction of a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t even breathe.  But when her lips touched his, moving underneath his, he couldn’t hold back.  For too long, he’d fantasized about this woman, about the way she would feel in his arms.  And as he lifted her up, he realized that she felt even better. 

He kissed her all the way back to his bedroom, not letting her think long enough to change her mind.  This was Scarlett!  And she was kissing him back!  The most beautiful woman in the entire world was kissing him and he was starving for this kiss.  He laid her down on his bed, still kissing her.  Resting his weight on his elbows, he kissed her until he felt her shift underneath him, her legs lifting up to cradle his erection against her heat.  He groaned as he reveled in that damp heat but he still wouldn’t stop kissing her. 

But then her hands moved against his chest and he couldn’t control the raging desire.  It was too much.  It was so much better than all of his fantasies.  She was here, in his arms and she was kissing and touching him. 

With deft fingers, he tore the material away from her slender body, his hands moving down, cupping her breast.  When he heard her gasp, he watched her features, making sure he didn’t hurt her but his thumb moved across the pointed nipple, amazed at how perfect she was.  Over and over again, he flicked that hard nubbin, his body in pain as she pressed her heat against his groin.