Risking It All.... Yvonne Lindsay
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A broad expanse of marble, ringed with potted plants, glowed under the stars. “How come there’s no one up here?”
“It’s not open to the public unless it’s booked for an event and, as you can see, there’s nothing happening here tonight except us.”
Us. What did he mean by that? Nothing, probably. “That’s a lot of stars.” She felt as though she could see forever, bright galaxies twinkling all the way to infinity.
“It’s nice being up here above all the lights. You can see clearly. I come up here when I need to get perspective.”
“Feeling like a tiny speck in the vast universe certainly puts everything in perspective.”
“Doesn’t it, though? All the worries that keep us little humans awake at night are nothing in the grand scheme of things.”
He still held her hand, which had grown quite hot. They walked across the terrace to a seating area and he guided her onto a large sofa and sat down next to her.
What am I doing? Up here there was no pretense that they were still working. Or that she was researching anything. She was simply sitting with John, her right thigh fully pressed against his left one as they both sank into the soft cushions. The cool night air emphasized the warmth of his body.
“What do you worry about, Constance?” His hand squeezed hers very gently.
“Sometimes I worry that I’ll never move out of my parents’ house.” She laughed, trying to lighten the moment.
“Why haven’t you? You must earn enough to rent your own place.”
“I don’t know, really. I keep thinking that I will, then another month or year passes and I’m still there.”
“Maybe you’ve been waiting to meet the right man.”
“Probably.” The confession surprised her. “After all, I’ve always been told a nice girl is supposed to live at home until she gets married.” She shrugged.
“Why haven’t you met the right person yet?”
“I work at an accounting firm. It’s not exactly a hotbed of romance.” She smiled.
“Don’t accountants need love, too?”
“Apparently so.” Was he trying to suggest that she go back and date one of her coworkers? That would be a strange suggestion from a man still holding her hand in his. “Why haven’t you married?” Curiosity pricked at her, even though she was pretty sure she knew the answer. Why would a man in John’s position want to settle down with one woman when he could have a different one every week if he wanted?
“I have been.”
His answer shocked her so much she tried to pull her hand from his. “You’re divorced?” Her hand flew free, and the chill night air assaulted her hot palm.
He nodded. “A long time ago. You’re shocked.”
“I didn’t read that when I was researching you.”
“It’s not common knowledge. I was married in high school, right before I went away to college. I thought it would help keep us together despite the physical distance.”
“Which was only a hundred miles or so.”
“Less than fifty, actually.” He grinned. “Young and stupid.”
“Why did you split up?”
“I was so busy with school that I didn’t make enough time for her and she met someone else. It proved to me that a marriage isn’t something that just happens. It takes a lot of work to keep it alive.”
“And that scared you off trying it again?” She attempted to pull her thigh away from his but once again the sofa was too deep and she kept falling against him.
“Pretty much.” His eyes twinkled in the darkness. “I know I’ve got my hands full with my business, and now with running the tribe, so I don’t want to disappoint someone else.”
“Oh.” She felt a surprising sting of disappointment, which annoyed her. Had she really imagined somewhere in the darkest recesses of her mind that John might have real feelings for her? She was getting carried away! “So you probably won’t get married again.”
“I damn sure will.” His conviction startled her. “Don’t count me out yet.”
“I can see you feel strongly about it.” Her smile matched his. How did he keep doing that to her? Any sensible woman would leap to her feet and go admire the view on the far side of the patio, away from this man who freely admitted he didn’t have time for a relationship.
“Oh, I do feel strongly about it. In addition to any personal considerations, I have a responsibility to the Nissequot tribe to help produce the next generation.” He winked.
She couldn’t help laughing. “That’s a weighty responsibility. Does it mean you have to marry another Nissequot?”
“Nope.” His gaze grew more serious. “We made sure there were no requirements for any particular amount of Indian blood in tribal members. I hate the idea that people have to choose who they marry carefully or abandon their heritage.”
“I’d imagine those kinds of rules are in place to keep the benefits—government funds, casino profits and that kind of thing—to a limited number of people.”
“And what good does that do anyone? Except the people trying to keep us small in the hope that we’ll fade away eventually. I’d prefer to expand to include everyone. Growth and change are the core facts of life. If you try to keep something static, it will just die. I’m here to make sure the opposite happens.” He took her hand again, and she didn’t pull it back. He lifted it to his lips and kissed her palm, which sizzled with awareness under his lips.
Why did she let him do that? He wasn’t serious about her. He was playing with her.
Or was he?
His dark eyes had narrowed and fixed on hers with an expression so intense that she couldn’t breathe. Heat radiated through her and her body inched closer to his without any effort on her part. She should be trying to back away, or standing up and walking back to the elevator. But her entire body seemed to be in thrall to his.
His lips touched hers very softly, just brushing them. It wasn’t even a kiss. She closed her eyes as she drank in the subtle male scent of him. Her tongue itched to meet his, which it did as their mouths opened slightly and welcomed each other into a real kiss.
Her fingers crept under the jacket of his suit and into the folds of his shirt. His large hands settled one on either side of her waist, gathering her to him. She was aware of the roughness of his chin as he shifted and deepened the kiss. She leaned into him, pulling at his shirt until her fingers slid underneath it and she touched the warm skin of his back.
Heat unfurled in her core, spreading through her like smoke. John lifted her onto his lap, still kissing her, and she welcomed the closeness. Her nipples were so sensitive she could feel the fabric of his lapels even through her blouse and bra, and she pressed herself against him, unable to resist the pull of sensation.
She had no idea how long they kissed. All she knew was that she didn’t want to stop. The pleasure of holding him, of touching him and kissing him, was so intense she couldn’t remember anything like it. When their lips finally separated slightly, she could barely pull herself together enough to open her eyes.
“There’s something very powerful between us,” John murmured, his voice a rumble in her consciousness.
“Yes,” she whispered. Words seemed too literal in the heady sensual atmosphere of the dark night. It was easier to say what she wanted with her body, with her mouth. She licked his lips gently, savoring the taste of him. When his hand moved higher, she guided it over her breast, enjoying the weight of his palm on her desire-thickened nipple.
When