Dynasties Collection

Yet meeting him again here at Jarrod Ridge had proved she wasn’t immune from his effect on her, that she still desired him.

That discovery horrified her.

What kind of woman did that make her? How could she lust after such a jerk? And how could she reconcile that with her most secret desire for a loving husband and a clutch of tow-haired kids?

“Here’s a terry robe.”

Joanie’s voice stirred Avery from the conundrum threatening to short-circuit her brain. “Thank you.”

Turning away, the masseuse said, “I’ll fill the tub with hot water. The steam rooms are down the hall from the massage rooms. You can leave your belongings in here. I’ll give you an access card to get back in.”

The next fifteen minutes passed in a haze of heat. Avery couldn’t help thinking of the conversation she’d had with Matt.

“Get over him,” Matt had said.

And Avery was determined to do just that. By the time she left Jarrod Ridge it would be without a backward glance. She would exorcise this wretched awareness of the man. She would banish him from her thoughts … no matter what it took.

By the time Avery exited the steam room, filled with resolve, a sheen of moisture dewed her skin.

As she reached into the pocket of the robe for the access card to the treatment room where she’d had her massage, a masculine hand came down on the door in front of her, blocking her entry. Avery found herself face to face with the man who’d occupied so much of her recent thoughts.

“I’ve been looking for you. Rita said you were here.” Guy’s face was harder, more remote, than she’d ever seen it. The only evidence of the humor and amiability that had been so dear to her back in New York lay in the laugh creases around his eyes.

For a fragment of time her heart ached for what had been, what might have been, what was now forever lost.

No sign of laughter lingered in the steely gaze that roamed her giving no quarter. Avery became conscious that her face was cleansed of makeup and the spa’s white robe ended inches above her knees.

“I see you’ve already managed to find yourself a rich lover.”

Avery froze. Then, not deigning to answer, she knocked his hand off the door and pushed past him, seeking the sanctuary of the private room.

But Guy was quicker. Before she could slam the door in his face and lock it, he was inside, and his foot kicked the door shut behind him.

Balmy steam from the hot tub cocooned them, adding another dimension to the tension that pulsed between them. The warm reds that had appeared so welcoming suddenly seemed sensual and sultry. Avery’s heart started to pound. An acute feeling of vulnerability swamped her. She drew the toweling robe more tightly around her.

“Get out, Guy.”

Guy stalked closer. “Yesterday I thought it was my brother you were after. But by last night you’d found someone else. Did he share your bed?”

“What?”

“The Californian.”

“Californian—” Realization dawned. He was talking about Matt.

“Did he touch you? Love you?” The darkening eyes smoldered in the glow of the candlelight. “Pleasure you?” His hand came up and stroked her skin, causing a rush of shivers to follow in its wake.

Guy thought Matt was her lover.

Avery almost laughed. Then she took in the tight-pressed mouth, the flexing muscle in his jaw.

Help … he believed it. And it had made him furious. His fury ignited her own.

What right did he have to judge her? To leap to conclusions? She launched into attack. “Why?” she asked softly. “Are you jealous?”

The dark tumult in his eyes turned to flame.

In that instant a truly outrageous realization stunned her. Guy was jealous! Not because he cared for her, but because he thought she was sharing her body with someone else. Someone he hadn’t sanctioned …

Bastard!

“You—” His grim voice broke off as he advanced on her.

A thrill of all-too familiar and totally unwanted electricity shot through Avery. She stood her ground, refusing to back away. He was close, so close that she could feel the force of his breath, smell the tangy male scent of him, all intensified by the steam rising from the freshly filled hot tub.

His hands gripped her shoulders. Before she could protest, his mouth slanted across hers.

Mindful of her resolve to free herself of his thrall, Avery kept her lips primly shut, yet Guy made no attempt to force entry. Instead, after the first press, his lips softened, teasing hers, pressing little kisses along the sensitive seam. Despite her determination to resist him, he was too seductive. Every bit as good as she remembered from the halcyon days before it had all turned to dust. The familiar warmth lazily uncurled in her stomach and spread through her, leaving her craving more.

Too soon he’d raised his head.

“Did he kiss you like that last night?”

Before she could tell him that Matt wasn’t her lover but her cousin—almost a brother—that she’d grown up with, Guy’s mouth was back on hers. Hot. Voracious. Devouring. Her hands crept up around his neck, caressing the smooth male skin with her fingertips. He pulled back and sucked in a shuddering breath.

“No one kisses like that,” she whispered into the cavern of space that separated them.

The vibrating tension in his body eased a fraction. A hand cupped her cheek and he tilted her head back. Avery closed her eyes … waiting … waiting for his mouth to descend again.

“Look at me!”

Her lashes fluttered up. Reluctantly she met his gaze. An indefinable emotion lurked in the turbulent depths. Despite the warmth of the spa room, and the steam swirling around them, Avery shivered. This was not the easy-going restaurateur she’d thought herself in love with. She didn’t know this man.

“Not even Jeff?” he asked.

“What?” Avery blinked up at him in confusion.

“Forgotten how he kisses already?” There was a caustic bite to his tone.

“N-no.”

Forgotten? Guy sent me. I’m your birthday present. Then Jeff had breathed over her with boozy breath and touched her with hands that made her feel unclean. The words that had spewed from his mouth had made her feel dirty to her soul. I’m to chauffeur you to Baratin when we’re done.

How could she ever forget?

Was Guy jealous of the man he’d all but pimped her to? Well, she hoped he’d suffered the tortures of the damned. He’d destroyed her illusions. If he was jealous now, it was his own damn fault for opening a forbidden box that should have stayed shut.

He deserved to suffer.

The temptation to inflame his sexual possessiveness was too much. Avery gave him what she hoped looked like a seductive, kittenish smile. “I never kiss and tell.”

“You did more than kiss Jeff. You slept with him.”

She stretched her eyes wide. “Why the curiosity? Wish you’d been there? We almost called you to join in.”

The instant the words left her lips, Avery experienced a rush of regret. She’d thrown away the opportunity to tell Guy the real truth about how much she’d hated what had happened that fateful night.

But how could she recant now? How could she tell him her sarcasm had been prompted by hurt and anger at his ready acceptance that she’d slept with a man he’d sent to her? Pride wouldn’t let her. He could go to hell.

Guy didn’t love her. Had never loved her. It was enough to make her want to weep.

“Jeff told me that you’d been chasing him for weeks, and that night he couldn’t resist what you were offering.”

What?

Had he not sent Jeff to her? She gazed at Guy, searching for a chink in his shuttered face. But the only softness came from the flickering candlelight that danced over his skin, causing shadows to lurk under his cheekbones.

“That I offered?” she prompted.

Guy pushed a hand through his hair. “I was busy—”

“You were always busy.”

His jaw tensed. “Jeff called just as I was about to ring you to ask you to catch a cab. He offered to make the call for me and get the cab so I could finish what I was doing. I thought it was important.” His mouth twisted in a parody of a smile.

“So Jeff called me,” she said flatly.

“And you asked him to pick you up—only when he got there did he find out what you had in mind.”

“Of course.” Avery felt numb. He’d believed Jeff.

The man must be dumb. How could he not know what they’d discovered was special? Something she’d never found with another man? Yet he believed her capable of sleeping with Jeffrey … and Matt … at the drop of a hat.

She shivered.

“You’re cold.”

Not cold. Goosebumps from reaction. She was hurting, exposed and vulnerable. Unlike him. “Get into the hot tub,” he ordered. “With you here?”

He raised a dark eyebrow. “Why not? There’s nothing I haven’t seen many times before.”

The biting sarcasm made her see red. All the objections that threatened to spill over fizzled out when he hit a button on the control dial and the jets started to froth.

Why not?

She’d told Matt that she was going to exorcise him.

No time better than the present.

With a reckless awareness of playing with fire, Avery dropped her terry robe. She was naked beneath. She heard Guy suck in air, but refused to turn her head to gauge his response. Instead she stepped over the lip of the tub into the churning water of the sunken spa.

And wondered if she’d ventured too far.

Guy could’ve sworn his heart ceased when Avery’s robe slipped down her glorious body.

Any hope he’d nursed that Avery had not been playing cruel games with him and Jeff as her pawns had been extinguished by the brazen admission that she’d seduced poor Jeff.

It only took a glimpse of her naked form for the rage to flare into mind-blowing sexual hunger. Given that she was so little, Avery had the longest damned legs he’d ever seen. His eyes followed the sleek bare length to the delectable curve of her butt. She was perfect. Absolutely god-dammed perfect.

He wanted her. Damn, he ached with wanting. It had been too long….

The tub swallowed her as she settled down, the long legs and curvy body disappearing beneath the frothing water that gleamed in the light of the candles. She leaned her head against the edge of the tub and gave a sigh.

Only the top of her breasts were visible, yet even that was enough to make him hard.

After her betrayal he’d told her he never wanted to see her again. He’d been certain if he saw her, he’d throttle her. Famous last words. No doubt she planned to make him eat them, morsel by morsel. Well, here he was achingly aroused and dying to kiss that sassy provocative mouth again.

Damn.

She was here for the duration of the Food and Wine Gala. Why not sate this inconvenient hunger for her that gnawed at his gut like a wild, feral beast? This time he would make her as mad for him as she’d made poor, broken Jeff. The fool had risked everything for her. His friendship with Guy. Their business, Go Green.

Guy had been ready to plant a fist in Jeff’s face for his perfidy until he’d realized how bad his friend had it. Jeff had told him about how Avery had teased and tempted him for weeks, until he’d been unable to resist her summons.

What would he have done if Avery had opened the door in nothing more than the bustier and G-string Jeff had told him she’d worn to welcome him?

Guy could understand Jeff’s desperation. Would he have reacted any differently to her seduction? Hell, if he climbed into that spa beside her, he’d touch her and it would be over in moments.

Dragging in a breath he wrestled for control. Instead of allowing himself to be drawn into her trap, he dropped to his knees beside the sunken tub and started to knead her shoulders. This time it would be on his terms.

Avery started, she moaned.

“Good?”

“Mmm.”

“Relax, let the warm water ease all the cricks.”

“I already had a massage—that helped,” she murmured so softly he had to bend forward to catch the words. “But how can I resist?”

Guy could see the edge of her pouting mouth. Her hair fell in soft tendrils about her face, and her features had relaxed.

He growled, a rough, throaty sound. “I better tell my sister to start a service offering neck rubs in the tub.”

“Melissa is your sister? You mentioned brothers yesterday. I didn’t even know you had a sister.”

“You never asked,” he pointed out.

“I suppose.”

“We had better things to talk about.”

It was true, he realized as he massaged her flesh. Their focus had been on the white-hot passion that had exploded between them, consuming them in an affair that had erupted before they could draw breath—let alone get to know each other.

But her silence made him feel a pang of guilt. Maybe they should’ve talked more …

“I’ve got another sister, too,” he offered. “Erica. She’s my half sister actually.” He still wasn’t sure how he felt about Erica. Until now he’d maintained a friendly, but definitely cool, distance. “We only discovered her existence after my father died.”

“I heard about your father. I’m sorry.”

His father had died less than a week after she’d slept with Jeff and walked out on him. It had been the worst week of his life. But Avery didn’t need to know that.

“We weren’t close.” Guy dismissed her sympathy.

“It must’ve still been hard to discover he had another child.”

“It was.” Guy forced himself not to be abrupt. “The knowledge that my father had an affair so soon after mom’s death was—” He broke off, reluctant to supply the words that might reveal any lingering vulnerability.

After a moment’s pause, Avery said carefully, “It must have been hard for Erica, too.”

Her voice held no judgment, she simply stated a fact. He wished he could see her expression. “It couldn’t have been too bad for her. She inherited an equal share in Dad’s estate. She’s a wealthy woman now.”

“Money isn’t everything.”

Avery of all people expected him to swallow that?

Guy found a knot and rubbed it, and Avery winced. He slowed his movements, his fingers lingering on flesh that had taken a golden glow under the candlelight.

“Erica found love, too.” A note of cynicism entered his voice. “She’s engaged to Christian Hanford now. The family lawyer,” he tacked on, in case he wasn’t making sense. Stroking her skin had that effect on him. Touching her made him forget everything else existed.

She was undoubtedly a sorceress. A magic woman who held him trapped in her secret sensuality.

“Where are you staying?” Guy changed the subject. He didn’t want to talk about Erica, about the uncomfortable emotions his father’s affair aroused and the sense of helpless loss that his father’s death evoked.

“At Jarrod Manor,” she replied, a little drowsily.

“So am I.”

Avery stiffened under the stroke of his fingers. “Oh.”

“Relax,” he said. “It’s the largest lodge. No danger of finding me—unless you want to.” He didn’t add that he was staying in one of the family suites on the top floor, which had their own card-access elevator. There was little chance of Avery’s finding his suite by accident.

“But you only need to ask reception to find out where I’m staying—you’re a Jarrod, they’d tell you whatever you wanted.”

His hands stilled. “Do you want me to ask?”

“No!”

The water swirled around her as she moved in agitation. For a brief instant Guy caught a glimpse of pale pink nipple before she hastily sank beneath the bubbling water.

“On second thought, you probably don’t even need to ask, do you? You’d have access to all the computer and reservation systems—and key cards.”

“I’d never enter your room—or any guest’s room—without an invitation.” Guy was appalled by her assumption that he’d abuse his position—or the privacy of a guest. “You’d have to ask.”

“Promise?”

The look she slanted up at him almost undid him.

“Yes!”

She relaxed with a sigh, her head dropping back against the lip of the bath, the candlelight giving her blonde hair a rich patina. “I believe you.”

I believe you. Her instant trust caused a rush of elation. Wordlessly, he rubbed his fingers in little circles along the apex of her shoulders, seeking out the tell-tale knots, massaging them. Her flesh was soft and supple beneath his fingers, and he savored the subtle, flowery scent that clung behind her ears, released by the sultry, heat of the steam, tempting him to set his lips against the silken skin.

Guy let out the breath he’d been holding. The tendrils at her nape lifted, and a rush of gooseflesh danced across her skin.

Unable to resist, he bent his head and placed his mouth against her nape.

Avery gave an audible gasp.

But no objection followed. He parted his lips and planted a row of open-mouthed kisses on her water-dewed skin, aware of the sound of her quickening breathing. His hands slipped forward around the curve of her body, and his fingers trailed over the soft, rounded mounds of her breasts.

She drew a sharp, jagged breath.

“Avery,” he whispered, “invite me to join you in that damned tub.”

Four

The one thing that Avery had learned about Guy in the month she’d shared his apartment in New York was that every inch of his body was pure, sinful temptation … and she was incapable of resisting any of it. Tonight was no exception.

But tonight she knew exactly what she was doing … knew that this was not about dreams—only desire … and getting over Guy. She’d think of it as therapy.

“Join me?” she invited, her pulse skittering. “There’s plenty of space.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He was already on his feet. The jeans and T-shirt he wore were discarded in a flash. He kicked off his boxers, and stepped into the tub.

Once he stood inside, the tub shrank. He was tall and big … six feet one inch of honed male muscle. Aroused male muscle, Avery noted with an awed, heart-stopping glance. Her nipples peaked. Her pulse picked up, and the air surrounding them became heavy with unspoken messages.

Perhaps this hadn’t been such a good idea, after all.

But it was too late to undo the dare she’d instigated the moment she’d dropped that robe. If she told him she’d made a mistake, he’d laugh. Or accuse her of being a tease.

Her best choice was to tough it out. A few minutes of polite, uneasy silence, then she could chicken out with dignity, climb out the tub, say goodnight, and that would be that.

Avery sank lower into the water, and shut her eyes.

Except it wasn’t quite that easy.

Images of his naked form warmed by soft candle flame danced across her eyelids. The smooth golden skin. The sculpted muscles. His burgeoning erection.

This was how she was getting over the man?

She bit back a gasp, and concentrated on mentally ranking the merlot wines she’d tasted today. She lost interest after rating the third wine. Ears straining, she tried to figure out what he was doing.

Was he looking at her?

The silence throbbed like a writhing beast. Unwanted memories of the nights she’d spent in Guy’s bed, making love, entwined her. Now he was naked, a foot away from her, probably eating her alive with his eyes.

Avery couldn’t breathe.

She knew she had to exorcise him. Forever.

“Did you get a chance to make some notes for our presentation today?” When Guy finally broke the silence, she jumped, and wavelets lapped at her throat.

He wanted to talk business?

Avery cracked one eye open and sneaked a peek through the billowing steam. She didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. Guy was lying back, his eyes closed, looking utterly relaxed. She’d steeled herself to resist him—tell him to go to hell—and the damn man was practically asleep.

And here she was back to being all knotted up, fully expecting him to leap on her!

Cheated.

It wasn’t—couldn’t possibly be—disappointment that crawled through her, could it? She was relieved that she didn’t have to fight him off. Wasn’t she?

Hmm. If she were absolutely, confidentially truthful she was a teensy-weensy bit miffed.

It made no sense.

“So did you?”

“Uh, yes. I made some notes.”

Collecting her scattered wits, she tried to remember what the thrust of them had been. And gave up. While she’d been scrambling for her sanity, Guy had opened his eyes. His gaze locked with hers. Lord only knew what he’d seen in her eyes, because his mouth curved up into a slow, knowing smile.

“Miss me?”

“Today?” She tried to laugh it off as a joke. “I didn’t get a chance. Especially since I used the few spare minutes I had to work out what we were going to say.”

“Pity.” Under the water his hand landed on her bare thigh.

A rush of emotion filled her. Desire. Confusion. Anger. All tangled up in a mass of contrary, conflicting feelings. Avery reminded herself of all the reasons why it was a bad idea to let this happen. For sure, she would get hurt again.

But her desperate caveats didn’t help. His fingers trailed up … along her belly. Her breath caught as they skirted precariously close to the underside of her breast.

Guy Jarrod was a drug and her body craved its fix.

She knew she should be telling him “No”.

Yet insanely when his fingers snagged hers, and tugged, she allowed him to draw her through the bubbling water toward him.

“I thought about you.”

Her insides melted. “I doubt it,” she said snippily. “You had too much to do.”

“Oh, I’m not talking about today—I’m talking about the past seven weeks.”

At the admission, blood roared in her ears. Guy had kept count of time? Her resistance crumbled a little more.

“I keep remembering this….”

His fingers surrounded her nipple, and the little traitor hardened.

Guy groaned. His other arm came round her and he drew her close until her body slid over him breast-against-chest, her nipples brushing the water-sleek muscle under his skin.

“So responsive,” he murmured into her ear, and shivers feathered down her spine. “How could I ever forget this?”

The hope plummeted.

It was the sex he’d thought about—not her.

A cold, dampening wave of disappointment swamped her. What had she expected? An avowal of love? For him it had always been all about sex, nothing else. Guy had no idea of the fantasies she’d woven around him.

Fantasies involving love … family … and forever after.

She must’ve been dreaming. Or drugged. By sex? Yet right now, sex was almost enough.

Sensation shuddered through her as his mouth closed on her tight nipple. Something close to ecstasy coursed through her blood, and she gave a moan of dark delight.

Nothing wrong with sex.

Especially since this time there’d be no emotional component. It would be nothing more than an exorcism of a very bad habit.

Her legs entwined with his. Breaking the connection of his mouth on the tingling bud of flesh, Guy linked his hands behind her neck, and she again came into full, too-tantalizing contact with him. The softness of her breasts again brushed against his chest, and arousal spiraled. He pulled her head down, and she could no longer resist.

His tongue swept across her bottom lip. Lust surged through her when the tip of her tongue met his. He sucked it into his mouth, and then plundered the warm heat of her mouth, seeking out every corner.

His fingers explored the indent of her spine, then moved under her belly and slid between her legs. At the first intimate touch she stiffened reflexively, then her legs parted. She was twenty-seven years old, too old to fool herself that Guy could make all the silly, romantic dreams of love-for-life come true. She’d left those behind the night of her birthday.