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Until You're Mine
Until You're Mine

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Until You're Mine

Язык: Английский
Год издания: 2019
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Gray burned.

“Let me help you,” he said roughly.

Let me kiss you, he thought. Just once.

Impatience flickered over her features, tightening the lips he stared at. “That’s not necessary. Really.”

As if she’d have preferred to be aided by a gorilla.

“I want to.”

He polished off the bourbon he’d put down, reached for the senator’s glass, which was close by, and cocked his eyebrow. She brought up the tray and he put the crystal on it.

“I don’t need your help.”

“Yes, you’ve already pointed that out,” he murmured, taking the tray from her.


Joy swallowed a groan. She didn’t want to get anywhere near Gray. Not now. Not when she was trying so hard to put her crush to bed.

She winced. Bad choice of words.

“Shall we?” he said in that low rumble of his.

She glanced up and was unable to look further than the top button of his shirt.

The width of his shoulders was enough to block her view of the room entirely and he towered over her, making her feel small. She looked down a little, hoping he’d feel shorter that way. Instead she just noticed that he’d taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. His forearms were muscular with veins that ran down into his long, sure hands.

“Don’t you have something else to do?” she demanded.

Couldn’t he go save the world or something and let her finish her job in peace?

“Nope.”

Joy gritted her teeth and walked across the hall into a parlor. Going through the beautifully appointed room, she picked up empties and put them on the tray he held. As they moved around, she could feel him looming behind her and she could have sworn his eyes were on her body.

Stop it, she told herself. She knew damn well that was just her fantasies talking. He was only helping her out, probably thought he was being chivalrous.

When they were finished there, they went into the library she’d been looking for in the first place. With only the sound of his loafers and her flats on the marble floor, the silence started to get to her.

She couldn’t stand it anymore.

“So who was that man you were talking to? I feel like I’ve seen him before.”

“Just a politician.”

Somehow she doubted that. “I think I’ve seen him on TV.”

“You might have.”

“Actually, I think I’ve seen a lot of the people here tonight on CNN.”

She walked past an antique table and realized she’d missed a glass. Stopping abruptly, she bent over to grab it.

And Gray walked right into her body.

His hips connected with her backside, brushing against her intimately. The fit was shocking.

But what really got her attention was the fact that she felt something hard.

He hissed and stepped back. “Sorry, I didn’t see you.”

She grabbed the glass with two hands, afraid she was going to drop it. As she carefully put it on the tray, she looked up.

Gray’s eyes drilled into hers, twin beams of pale blue shooting through the tense air between them.

She forgot how to breathe.

After years of fantasizing about Grayson Bennett, the legend, she was actually being stared at with wild lust by Grayson Bennett, the man.

A woman’s voice broke the moment, splitting through it like an ax. “I finally found you.”

Joy looked around Gray’s shoulder.

The redhead walked into the room, as comfortable and relaxed as if she owned the place.

“I’m heading up for bed,” she said. And then had the gall to smile at Joy.

Joy grabbed the tray and made a beeline for the door, feeling like a fool. As she rushed for the kitchen, body shaking like a paint mixer, she cursed herself.

When heavy footsteps came after her, she walked faster.

“Joy.” Gray’s voice was all command. “Joy!”

She stopped. And truly hated him at that moment.

God, was he going to apologize? Or worse, suggest they meet up after he’d finished with his girlfriend? Damn it, she’d known he was out of her league, but had assumed it was because he was rich and handsome and powerful. Instead he was all that and a total player.

“Joy, I’d like you to meet Cassandra.”

Joy closed her eyes and prayed for composure.

Oh, this was great. He wanted to introduce them.

She squared her shoulders before turning around.

The redhead was at Gray’s side, looking both sad and a little amused as she smiled in greeting.

“I’m Reese’s wife,” the woman murmured softly.

Joy felt the blood drain out of her head. “Oh, I didn’t know….”

“Of course you didn’t,” Cassandra said graciously. “I think you came downstairs just after the introductions were made.”

While Joy stuttered out her condolences, Gray put his hand on the redhead’s shoulder. It was the perfect reminder of the kind of relationship the two had, and as soon as Joy could, she retreated into the kitchen. She felt awful for Cassandra’s loss, and the woman did look pained. But it wasn’t hard to believe that seeking solace in Gray’s arms would be a relief from her sorrow.

Joy put the glasses down next to the industrial dishwasher that had almost finished a load. The kitchen was spotless. Nate, Frankie and Tom were an efficient team and had gotten the cleanup done in record time.

“We’re ready to head out,” Frankie said to her. “The Honda and Tom’s truck are all loaded up.”

“I’ll just wait to put in these last few glasses and then I’ll head home.”

“You want me to come back and get you?” Nate asked, untying the long white apron that covered his jeans.

“I’ll be fine. It’s not like there’s a lot of traffic on the Lake Road this time of year.” And she could really use the air to clear her head.

Frankie gave her back the clothes that had suffered the tortellini onslaught. They were folded in a neat pile. “Libby washed these for you. Now be careful riding home, all right?”

“I will.”

The three of them left, with Tom shooting her a hopeful glance as he went out the door last.

“See you tomorrow,” he said.

Joy lifted her hand, wishing she could look forward to their date as much as he seemed to.

She took the scrunchie out of her hair and sat in a chair, running her fingers through the long waves to straighten out some of the kinks. With an obliging clank, the dishwasher started to hiss, which meant it was draining. Just a few more minutes.

And then she’d be free to leave.

She propped her head in her hand and stared across the expanse of the kitchen. Her mind raced. What was Gray doing now? Was he slipping in between cool sheets, pulling that woman’s warm body to his?

“You look exhausted.”

She jumped.

Gray’s voice was vaguely accusatory. As if he were upset she didn’t take better care of herself.

Like her health was any of his business, she thought.

“I’m only waiting for the dishwasher and then I’m leaving.”

He went over to a window. “Didn’t you come on a bike?”

“I did.”

Gray frowned. “You can’t go home on one at this hour.”

“Oh, yes, I can.”

“No, you can’t.”

“I beg your pardon?” She glared at him and knotted up her hair.

As he stared back, his face was fierce. God, with his dark hair and those narrow, pale eyes, he looked kind of scary.

“I’ll give you a ride home.”

“No, thanks.” She got off the chair, went over to the dishwasher and yanked out the tray of pots even though the cycle wasn’t all the way finished. She began to unload them onto the counter even though they burned her hands.

When a response didn’t come back at her, she glanced over her shoulder. He was gone.

She let out her breath.

Thank God he’d given up.

She quickly put the dirty glasses in the washer’s tray, slid the load in and hit the switch. It took her two minutes in the bathroom to change into her own clothes and leave the waitress uniform on the counter. On her way out, she looked around for the light switch that controlled the big fixtures hanging from the ceiling. She didn’t want to waste a lot of time, though, so she turned off the ones she could before putting the back door to good use.

Gray was leaning against the side of the house, arms crossed over his thick chest. Right next to her bike.

“Let’s go,” he said, picking the thing up as if it weighed no more than a plate.

“Put that down!”

“Make me.”

Yeah, like that was going to happen. He was only a foot taller than she and he had the bike up on his shoulder. Short of kicking him a good one in the knee, a line she wasn’t prepared to cross, that man could do anything he wanted with her property.

“I don’t like bullies,” she said through gritted teeth.

“And I don’t care if you like me or not.”

Ouch. For some reason, that hurt.

She stared at him as he started walking off and then she realized he was headed for the lake, not the garage behind his house.

He wasn’t going to throw the bike in the water, was he?

Joy ran after him. “That’s my property! You can’t just toss it—”

Gray glanced over his shoulder. “It’ll be easier to put this thing in my boat than jam it into the back of my car.”

As he strode along, she nearly had to jog to keep up with him.

If she wasn’t mistaken, he seemed almost as eager as she was to part company.


Gray could feel Joy’s eyes shooting into his back. She was right royally pissed and he was a little surprised. He never expected she’d put up a fight about anything. Not Joy. Not sweet, strawberry-blond Joy.

Damn, but her unexpected strength was attractive. It wasn’t going to change his mind, but he admired anyone who tried to stand up to him.

And he didn’t care if he had to throw her over his other shoulder, she was not going home alone in the dark on that bike. The godforsaken thing didn’t even have a headlight and the fact that there wasn’t a lot of traffic in the area off season didn’t matter to him. Cars weren’t the only hazard on the lake road. Black bears came down to the shore looking for food in the fall. Mountain lions, too.

So no, he wasn’t about to let her be meals-on-wheels for some rabid, claw-wielding animal.

He opened the door to the boathouse and flipped on the light. The Hacker gleamed in its slip, all that glossy mahogany and shiny chrome reflecting the illumination like a prism. He put the bike in one of the seating compartments and then stepped on the gunnels, offering Joy a hand. When she refused to take it, he let her get settled on her own.

Getting in beside her, he started the engine. A great thunder filled the boathouse before the RPMs settled down to a rhythmic, almost sexual pump.

God, he really was hard up for her, wasn’t he? He’d driven the Hacker for years and never found anything erotic in it.

As soon as they were free of the boathouse, he pulled a blanket from under the dash and gave it to her. She looked at the thing as if it were a net and she was a fish.

“It’s cold,” he said dryly.

She took the heavy wool from him and spread the tartan plaid over her body. “What about you?”

He shrugged, enjoying the chill because it kept him sharp. He’d only had those two bourbons all night long, but it wasn’t the alcohol that was likely to get him doing something stupid. “I’ll live.”

A moment later she shifted in the seat. “You could speed us up and get this over with, you know. We’re barely going faster than an idle.”

“Less wind this way.” Which was a crock. He liked having her in his boat.

She cursed softly. And then slid over next to him, awkwardly pulling the blanket over his lap. Her hand brushed against his stomach.

Gray closed his eyes, body humming like he had jet fuel in his veins.

When they’d been collecting glasses in the library, and she’d stopped short, he hadn’t been prepared for the abrupt halt. One minute they were making good progress around the room. And the next, his erection was pressed up against her.

Remembering the feel of her made a groan rise in his throat and he was grateful for the sound of the engine.

He’d been watching her as she’d moved, the swaying of her hips, the shifting of her shoulders. Her legs were long and slender, and every time she bent this way or that, the skirt had ridden up a little higher on her thighs.

At the moment they’d come into contact, he’d been picturing himself putting the tray aside, sitting her down on one of the leather couches and parting her legs with his hands. He’d wanted to fall to his knees and kiss his way up the inside of her thighs. Feel her hands burrowing deep into his hair as she urged him closer to her heat. The image had been hot, wild, totally insane.

Yeah, and then he’d bumped into her.

She must have felt what she did to him. How could she have missed it?

And if it hadn’t been clear then, it must have been obvious when she’d wheeled around. He’d known his lust was showing on his face, but everything had happened so fast, the meeting of their bodies followed by her quick spin, that he hadn’t been able to strong-arm his expression into any semblance of neutrality.

No wonder she didn’t want to be alone with him.

Maybe that was why he was so hell-bent on taking her home. He wanted to prove to them both that he could take care of her. Because back in that library, he sure hadn’t been thinking like Gallahad and she’d caught him red-handed.

Or red-blooded, as the case had been.

Gray felt something tickle his face. A strand of her hair had escaped the loose knot at her neck and was dancing in the wind. He reached for the silken length, but she caught it first and tucked it behind her ear.

“Sorry,” she said.

He wasn’t. He wanted her hair down and all over his body.

Gray reached up and massaged the bridge of his nose.

“Are you okay?” she said gruffly, as if she didn’t like being concerned for him. “You look like you’re really cold or something.”

No, he wasn’t cold. He could have jumped buck-naked into an ice bath and had the damn thing boiling in a matter of minutes.

“Gray?”

“I’m fine.” Yup, for a guy being tortured by his libido, he was just Jim-dandy.

He took his hand off the steering wheel and gave the throttle a push to speed them up. She might have a point about getting the ride over with.

“Your father seemed to enjoy himself tonight.”

“He did.”

There was a pause. “He looks better than when you and he ate at White Caps last month.”

“He’s coming along. It’s been hard for him.”

“And you, too, I imagine. I, ah, I saw how carefully you watched him tonight.”

The words were soft. He looked at her.

Joy was staring out at the lake.

“How’s your brother doing?” he asked, thinking she must know all about how tough it was to see someone suffer through rehab and recovery.

“He had another operation two weeks ago. They replaced his tibia with a titanium rod and he still might need to go back under the knife again. They’re not sure. He’s also been struggling with a post-op infection.” She pulled up the edge of the blanket and began braiding the fringe. “He’s been so brave. He never complains even though it’s obvious he’s in a great deal of pain. I think the hardest thing for us is the fact that he’s a terrible patient. He won’t take his meds a lot of the time. He drinks too much. And he never talks about what happened.”

Gray wanted to reach out for her hand.

“I’m really sorry,” he said instead.

Her eyes came to his face. “Thank you.”

“You take care of your grandmother, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a lot of responsibility.”

Joy shrugged. “No one would tend to her as well as I’m able to. And she really can’t be alone. The dementia has taken away most of her internal logic and reasoning and replaced them with paranoia. We’re trying her on a new medication right now and I hope it calms her. I hate to see her distressed.”

“You’re a very good person, Joy,” he said abruptly.

She shrugged. “Alex and Grand-Em are my family. Of course I’d take care of them.”

“There’s no ‘of course’ about it.” His mother had had no compunction about letting others worry about him. Hell, when he’d contracted viral pneumonia in first grade, and had spent two weeks in a pediatric intensive care unit trying to breathe, he’d seen the woman only once. “They’re fortunate to have you care so much.”

Joy looked away. They were quiet for a while, but some of the tension had been eased.

It wasn’t until White Caps came into view that he broke the silence.

“I’m sorry about what happened tonight.”

She gave a short laugh. “This boat ride hasn’t been too hard to endure.”

“No, in the library.”

Joy stiffened. “Oh, that.”

Yeah, that.

“I’m glad Cassandra came in when she did,” he muttered, replaying the scene in his head and having to shift in his seat.

“So am I.” Her voice had an edge.

So he had offended her, he thought.

Gray cleared his throat. “I don’t want you to think that I’d ever…take advantage of a woman.”

“Believe me, I don’t,” she said dryly.

As he pulled into the dock, he knew she was angry again, but he didn’t regret making the apology. It had been the right thing to do.

He threw a rope around a cleat to keep the boat in place and then lifted out her bike. He wanted to say something else, but she didn’t give him the chance.

“I can take that up,” she said quickly. “Thanks for the ride.”

And without a backward glance, she rushed away, the wheels of her bike bumping along the dock planks.

He watched her until she was all the way up to the house, heading around the corner, disappearing out of sight.

He had an absurd impulse to run after her.

But then what?

Then he would take her into his arms and pull her so close that he’d feel every breath she took. And he’d kiss her until neither one of them could stand up.

Get in this boat, he told himself. And go home, Bennett.

It was another ten minutes before he could make himself leave.


Joy marched up the lawn, grip tight on the bars of her bike.

God, he’d apologized.

How humiliating was that? As if she needed the confirmation that what he’d been feeling had had nothing to do with her. Sure he’d been happy to see Cassandra! Happier still, no doubt, to hear she was heading for bed. Because he’d clearly been thinking of the redhead when he’d become…well, aroused.

And of course, he didn’t take advantage of women. A man like him didn’t have to, because who would turn him down? God, as much as she hated to admit it, she wouldn’t have. If he’d reached out to her, she would have stepped right into his arms and opened herself up to him, even though he’d had another woman in his mind.

Could the situation with him get any worse? she wondered. Her fantasies had been bad enough, but now she actually knew what his body felt like.

Okay, so it had only been for a second, but the impression was indelible.

And the idea he was going home to put that hard length of his to good use was a total nightmare.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

Her date with Tom tomorrow night was a godsend. It really was. Honestly. She needed to try to connect with someone she could actually—

The toe of her shoe caught a tree root and she pitched forward. Dropping the bike and pin-wheeling her arms, she managed to recover her balance before she face-planted into a pachysandra bed. But absurdly, tears pricked her eyes.

She wanted to curse.

Except she didn’t know why meeting Gray’s lover should bother her so much. The man was completely out of her league and she knew it. He was sophisticated and urbane and…she was a virgin, for heaven’s sake.

Joy put her hands over her face, wincing at her own inexperience. It wasn’t that she hadn’t had boyfriends. There had been a few, back in high school. But when college had rolled around, she’d had to work to help pay her way. The guys she’d met then were into partying and having fun. Between her course load and her two jobs, she’d been exhausted most of the time and not exactly the poster girl for a happy-go-lucky relationship. And as soon as she’d graduated, she’d come home to take care of Grand-Em. Saranac Lake was a small community so there weren’t a lot of eligible guys her own age to date. Besides, taking care of Grand-Em was an around-the-clock kind of job.

So how was she supposed to have found a man she really wanted to be with?

God, she was a fossil. At the age of twenty-seven, she was a total fossil.

Joy dropped her hands and glanced up at the sky. The stars overhead were blurry.

She should have known right off the bat that the night was going to end badly.

Getting hit with a tortellini air raid the minute she’d walked into the man’s house could not be, had not been, a harbinger of good things.

As she forced herself to pick up the bike and start walking, she thought at least one prediction of hers had come true. She wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight.

So she might as well get back to work on her sister’s wedding gown.

Chapter Four

The next morning, Joy threw down her pin cushion as Frankie tore out of the bedroom. In the wedding gown.

“Frankie! Wait, you can’t—”

“I have to catch Stu before he leaves! His phone is out.”

Joy leaped to her feet and ran after her sister, figuring at least she could grab the skirting and keep it off the ground. Assuming she could catch up. When she finally got within range, Frankie was flying out the kitchen door. Together, they hightailed it for Stu’s produce truck.

Wiry, ancient Stu was about to get in the cab, John Deere cap pulled down low, coveralls hanging off him like a sack. The old man was a typical Adirondack woodsman. Which meant if he was surprised to see Frankie coming at him in a wedding gown, you’d never know it.

“Nate and Spike need a special delivery of arugula,” Frankie said breathlessly. “Is there any way—”

“Yup.”

“By Tuesday?”

“Yup.”

“Stu, you are a magician! Thank you.”

There was a pause. “Yup.”

Stu doffed his cap and climbed up into the truck. Just as he was about to take off, a car came down the driveway.

It was a big BMW. Gray’s.

Joy nearly dropped the dress, at least until the lovely redhead got out. Then she began squeezing the fabric in her fists. She dropped the skirting before she got it sweat stained.

Frankie lifted a hand in greeting. “Good morning.”

“Hi.” Cassandra smiled in a small, tight way, as if she were uncomfortable. But then her eyes narrowed on the gown. “Good Lord, that’s marvelous.”

Frankie did a twirl. The white satin skirt billowed out as if the fabric knew it was time to show off. “Isn’t it?”

“Who’s it by? Narciso Rodriguez? No, Michael Kors.”

“Her.” Frankie pointed at Joy.

Cassandra’s eyes widened. “You did this?”

Joy nodded.

The redhead walked around Frankie, inspecting seams and folds. “You designed and made it yourself?”

“It’s a hobby.”

“You’re very good. Do you have any others?”

“Gowns? No. Designs? Tons of them. I could wallpaper the house with what I’ve sketched.”

“You’re quite good.” Cassandra smiled more widely, but the expression faded as she looked at Frankie. “I probably should have called first. I, uh, I was hoping Alex would see me.”

Frankie nodded. “Come on in. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

As they walked over to the kitchen door, Cassandra smiled at Joy. “And maybe afterward, you could show me some more of your work?”

Joy shrugged as they went inside, figuring the woman was just being polite. “I was refining a few sketches this morning during breakfast. They’re over here on the table.”

Cassandra went right to them and her focus was so intense, it was intimidating.

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