Second-Chance Seduction. Kate Carlisle
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with her for a week would be a dangerous temptation. It would be for the best if she refused the offer.
And once she turned him down, Connor would go ahead and pay for Angus’s medication, even if he had to sneak behind her back to do it. And as for Maggie getting a loan to grow her business, he figured that would happen eventually. She’d either find a bank that would agree to it or she’d tap one of the other brewery owners.
That thought didn’t sit well with him, though. He didn’t want anyone else getting their hands on her beer formulas. Or her, either, if he was being honest.
And in case he’d forgotten, he still needed a date for the Wellstone dinner meeting. As much as he hated to admit it, Maggie would be perfect as his date. Jonas Wellstone would fall in love with her.
So maybe he’d gone too far. If she turned him down—hell, when she turned him down, he would simply renegotiate to get those formulas and to convince her to be his date at the Wellstone dinner. That’s all he really wanted.
Meanwhile, he had to chuckle as he watched her stomp and grumble to herself. A part of him wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her—in more ways than one. But once again, that wayward part of him was doomed to disappointment, because other than the obvious outward attraction to her, Maggie meant nothing to him now, thank goodness. He counted himself lucky that he’d gotten over her duplicity years ago. This offer of his was just sweet payback, pure and simple. It felt damn good to push some of her buttons the way she’d pushed his in the past, saying one thing but meaning something else. Keeping him in a constant state of confusion. Now it was his turn to shake her up a little.
“So what’s your answer, Maggie?” he asked finally.
* * *
On the opposite side of the room, Maggie halted in her pacing and turned to face him. A big mistake. She could feel his magnetic pull from all the way over there. Why did he still have to be so gorgeous and tall and rugged after all these years? It wasn’t fair. She could feel her hormones yipping and snapping and begging her to take him up on his offer to spend a week together in that hotel suite of his.
What was wrong with her? Unless she’d missed the clues, he was clearly out for revenge, pure and simple. Imagine him insisting that she provide him services for a week. Even though he’d assured her that she wasn’t expected to sleep with him, she had a feeling he wasn’t talking about a plain old dinner date here and there.
Services, indeed!
At that, her stomach nerves began to twitch and buzz with excitement. Services!
Oh, this wasn’t good.
“Maggie?”
“Yes, damn it. Yes, I’ll do it,” she said, waving her hands in submission.
He hesitated, then took what looked like a fortifying breath. “Good.”
“But I won’t sleep with you.” She pointed her finger at him for emphasis.
He tilted his head to study her. “I told you I don’t expect you to.”
“But...the hotel suite.” She let go of the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “Okay. But...never mind. Good. Fine. That’s fine.” She stopped talking as she felt heat rise up her neck and spread to her cheeks. She tended to turn bright pink when she was embarrassed, so Connor probably noticed it, too. Even though he’d made it clear he didn’t want to sleep with her, she’d assumed...well. That’s what she got for assuming anything. Apparently he just wanted to keep tabs on her.
If she’d thought about it for a second or two, she would’ve realized that he could have any woman he wanted. They probably waited in line outside his door and threw themselves at him wherever he went. Why would he want to sleep with Maggie, especially after he’d spent all these years thinking she had betrayed him? All he wanted was a date, someone who knew something about the brewery business. And that description fit her perfectly.
“I misunderstood,” she admitted.
“Yeah, you did,” he said, his tone lowering seductively as he approached her. “Because if you and I were to do what your mind is imagining, Maggie, there wouldn’t be much sleeping going on.”
Staggered, Maggie felt her mouth drop open. “Oh.”
“So it’s settled,” he said, breezily changing tempo again as he tugged her arm through his and walked her to the door. “I’ll pick you up Sunday morning and we’ll drive together. Be sure to pack something special for the gala and a few cocktail dresses. We’ll be dining with a number of important business associates, and I want them to walk away impressed.”
She refused to mention that she only owned two simple cocktail dresses and nothing formal, having given away most of her extensive wardrobe to the local consignment shop three years ago. Instead she turned and jabbed her finger in his chest for emphasis. “Just so we’re clear, Connor. I’m not going to have sex with you.”
He looked down at her finger, then up to meet her gaze. “Still negotiating, huh?”
She whipped her hand away and immediately missed the sizzle of heat she’d gotten from touching his chest. She told herself it meant nothing. It had just been a while since she’d touched a man. Like, years. No wonder she was getting a contact high.
“I’m serious, Connor,” she said, hating that her voice sounded so breathless. “I’ll share your room with you, but that’s it.”
“It’s a suite,” he corrected, and slowly leaned over and kissed her neck.
Dear Lord, what was he doing? She knew she should slap him, push him away, but instead she shivered at the exquisite feel of his lips on her skin.
“Say it with me,” he murmured. “Suite.”
“Suite,” she murmured, arching into him when he gently nipped her earlobe. This had to stop. Any minute now.
“Sweet,” he whispered, then pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
Three
The heat was instantaneous. Maggie felt as if she were on fire and she reveled in the warmth of his touch. She couldn’t remember feeling this immediate need, not even years ago when she and Connor first made love. And certainly not in all her years with Alan Cosgrove, her less than affectionate ex-husband.
Good grief, why was she thinking about a cold fish like Alan when Connor’s hot, sexy mouth was currently devouring her own?
She gripped his shirt, knowing she ought to put an end to this and leave right now. Talk about taking a risk! This was madness. She had to stop. But oh, please, no, not yet. For just another moment, she wanted to savor his lips against hers, his touch, his strength, his need. It had been much too long since any man had needed her like this.
Connor had always been a clever, considerate lover, but now he was masterful as he maneuvered her lips apart and slid his tongue inside to tangle with her own, further melting her resistance. His arms encircled her, his hands swept up and down her back with a clear sensual awareness of her body as his mouth continued to plunder hers.
And just at the point where she was ready to give him anything he wanted, Connor ended the kiss. She wobbled, completely off balance for a moment. She wanted to protest and whine for him to kiss her again. But she managed to control herself, taking time to adjust the shoulder strap of her bag and straighten her jacket.
Then she glanced up and caught his self-satisfied smile. He looked as if he’d just won a bet with someone, maybe himself.
She remembered that smile, remembered loving it, loving him. Times changed, though, and just because they’d shared an amazing kiss didn’t mean she had any intention of sleeping with him. Still, at least she knew what she was up against now. Was she crazy to have such strong feelings for him after so many years? No, it would only be crazy if she acted on those feelings. She needed to remind herself of the only thing that mattered: getting