Californian Kings

“But you let me,” she countered, sweeping past him into the house. Just as she’d thought. It was even more perfect inside than out. Dammit.

“Hell, yes, I let you,” he said, chuckling low in his throat so that it sounded like a rumbling freight train.

“You cheated. You knew I’d never expect something like this,” she waved both hands out, encompassing the entire house. “I mean, I try to do things the ‘green’ way, but this is…”

“Why are you so surprised?”

“Are you kidding?” she demanded, glaring at him. “You’re the guy who ripped out the heart of the business district and gave it all the personality of a damp rock.”

He frowned at her. “That’s business. And, just so you know, the materials used were all ‘green.’”

“Why? Why do you care?”

“I’m a surfer, Bella. Of course I’m interested in the environment. I want clean oceans and air, I just don’t broadcast what I do.”

“No, you hide it.”

“No, I don’t. If you’d bothered to look a little deeper at me, you’d have found plenty of information. The ‘Save the Waves’ foundation? Mine. King Beach supports it.”

She needed to sit down. Bella stared at him, amazed and…impressed. How was she supposed to reconcile her image of the corporate raider with this very unexpected side of Jesse King? Was it possible she’d been wrong about him? And if she were, what else had she been mistaken about?

Her gaze swept the interior. Bamboo floors, shining under coats of polish. Skylights cut into the ceiling allowed moonlight to drift into the foyer, giving the whole house a magical look. And it was working on Bella. She was beyond shocked. She was pleased. And almost proud. How ridiculous was that?

He tucked her hand through his elbow and led her down a long, wide hallway. “Come on. I asked the housekeeper to serve dinner on the patio.”

On either side of them, the whitewashed walls were studded with family photos. Her heels tapped against the bamboo floor as she walked beside Jesse. She glanced at the photos as they passed, trying to take them all in. But there were just too many of them.

“Told you I had a lot more at home,” he said. “I’ll introduce you to all of them after dinner if you want.”

Dinner. And, she thought, since he’d managed to absolutely shock her, she would be dessert. Unless she backed out. Ran away. Told him she’d changed her mind. He wouldn’t be happy about it, but she had no doubt he’d let her leave. He might be arrogant and pushy, but he wasn’t a bully.

“You’re thinking too much,” he said.

“You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

“I knew you’d be shocked, but I still can’t help wondering why,” he said, leading her through a set of French doors onto a flagstone patio, Bella’s breath caught in her throat.

A full moon was up and shining down on the ocean, laying a wide, silver ribbon of a path that looked as though all you had to do was follow it to find something wonderful. Stars winked out of a black sky and a sea wind slid over her skin like a caress. A small, round table was set with white linen, fine china and crystal. A bottle of wine stood open and “breathing” in the center of the table, and candle flames flickered wildly in the protective circle of hurricane-glass globes.

“Wow,” she murmured.

“I agree.”

She looked at him, but he wasn’t looking at the view, or the setting. He was watching her. Was it part of his game? His routine for charming women? Or was this something else? Something just for her?

Oh, that thought was certainly a dangerous one.

“This is beautiful,” she said, impressed in spite of her own misgivings about being there.

“It really is,” he said, moving to the table, and pouring them each a glass of dark red wine. “I found this place the last time I was in Morgan. The setting was great, but I wanted a more organic kind of home. So I rehabbed it.” He sent her a quick wink.

“Rehabbing seems to be a hobby of yours.”

“Can’t help myself. I’m a hands-on kind of guy.”

Her stomach swirled and dipped again. Then she recalled what he’d just said. “You bought this house three years ago?”

“Yeah.” He walked toward her, holding out one of the glasses.

She accepted it, took a sip and said, “So you were always planning on moving here.”

“Not always,” he said. “Actually, it was meeting a certain woman on a pier one night that decided it for me.”

He was just too smooth for her. He knew all the right words. Knew all the right moves. And she was floundering. If she had the slightest shred of sense, Bella knew she’d be running from him just as fast as her feet could take her. But she really didn’t want to.

“Why do you do things like that?” she asked, her voice little more than a hush.

“Like what?” He sipped at his wine.

“Talk to me as if you’re trying to seduce me.”

“I am,” he said. “I haven’t exactly kept it a secret.”

“But why play the game?” she asked, walking past him to set her wineglass on the table. With her back to him, Bella said softly, “You don’t have to flatter me. Or flirt. Or any of the other things you do to get women. You already know I want you, too. So why bother pretending that you feel something for me that you don’t?”

His features went still and, in the moonlight, his blue eyes glittered like silver. His jaw was tight, his hair rippled in the wind. “Who says I don’t mean it?”

Chapter Eight

Bella turned to look at him and when her gaze locked with his, everything in her sizzled quietly. His eyes looked wild and flashed with heat and desire and something she couldn’t quite identify. But whatever it was, there was an answering emotion roiling through her.

“What do you want from me, Jesse?”

He walked toward her, set his glass down beside hers and laid both hands on her shoulders. “Tonight, I just want you. And I don’t want it to be because I won the stupid bet.” He slid his hands up her shoulders, her neck, to cup her face between his palms. “I want you to come to my bed because you want to be there. Because we both need to be there.”

Bella realized that he was giving her the chance to back out. But she wouldn’t. She’d known the minute Jesse had come back to Morgan Beach that they were headed down this road. That eventually, they would wind up together again. If only for one more night. And if it was going to be only one night, then she was determined to make the most of it.

She wasn’t going to hide from what she was feeling anymore. She wasn’t going to pretend to hate him. She wasn’t going to lie to herself any longer. The simple truth was that she’d fallen in love with him on that night three years ago, when they’d talked about their pasts, their futures, and shared an amazing blaze of passion in the moonlight.

She hadn’t wanted to love him. Hadn’t expected to. Had tried for three years to hide from the truth behind a curtain of venom because she’d known it couldn’t go anywhere. Men like Jesse King didn’t settle down. And if they did, they didn’t marry women like Bella. So it had been easier to tell herself that she hated him, rather than face the fact that she loved a man she would never have.

But she was done with that now. She did love him, though she’d never tell him that. And she was going to have another night with him—even if that was all she ever got.

She reached up, wrapped her arms around his neck and went up on her toes. “I want to be here, Jesse. With you.”

“Thank God,” he whispered as he bent his head to take her mouth with his.

Bella’s mind splintered as he parted her lips with his tongue and swept inside, stealing what little breath she had left and sharing his own. His tongue stroked hers, tangling them together in a prelude to a dance she’d spent three years hungering for. Her hands splayed against his broad back, holding him to her, as she gave him everything she had and took everything he offered.

His arms tightened around her body, pressing her to him, aligning her body along his with a need so fierce that it inflamed her own. Jesse lifted her easily, swung her up into his arms and Bella felt like a heroine in a romantic movie. Dazed, she lolled against him as he stalked across the patio, through the house and up a set of stairs. She paid no attention to where he was taking her and didn’t care, as long as he started kissing her again really soon.

When he finally stopped and set her on her feet again, Bella took a quick look around. They were in his bedroom, obviously. A huge, bamboo four-poster bed took up most of the space. A skylight directly over the bed fanned moonlight onto a black-and-white quilt that looked handmade and what had to be a dozen pillows piled against the intricately carved headboard. Windows provided a view of the moon-kissed ocean and allowed the soft, cool sea wind to glide into the room.

“Like it?” he asked, reading her expression correctly.

“Oh, yes,” she said, turning to look up at him.

“You’ll like this, too,” he told her, stepping past her to flip the quilt back, exposing clean white sheets. “Recycled cotton.”

She sighed. “I think I just had an orgasm.”

He laughed. “Not yet, baby. But soon. I promise.”

Bella looked up at him. “And Kings always keep their promises?”

“Damn straight.” He came to her then, hauling her up against him with a hard embrace that sent shivers of excitement scuttling down her spine.

She felt every hard inch of him and her body instantly went into eager mode. She forgot about everything else. Her business, her feud with him, everything. Bella didn’t want to think. She wanted to feel.

And Jesse more than obliged.

His kiss turned hot and hungry and frantic. It was as if he couldn’t taste her enough and she was right there with him. Her hands slid up and down his back, feeling the pull and flex of lean muscles honed by years of swimming in an ocean that he loved. His arms were like bands of steel, wrapped around her, holding her tightly to him. And when he cupped her bottom and pulled her in even closer, she felt the unmistakable hard length of him pushing into her.

Her body lit up inside and went hot and wet and ready for him. He seemed to sense what she was feeling because he took the hem of her shirt in his big hands and quickly peeled it up and over her head. In seconds, her skirt was gone, too, and she was standing in front of him in her white lace bra and panties.

His hands skimmed up and down her body, following her curves, cupping her breasts until she felt the heat of his touch through the fragile fabric. “Jesse…”

“Don’t rush me,” he said with a half smile. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this opportunity.”

“No rush,” she said and swayed a little unsteadily. “But I think my knees are melting.”

That smile kicked up an extra notch. “Let’s see what we can do about that.”

He led her to the bed, and gave her a gentle push that sent her tumbling onto the mattress. The sheets were cool and smooth beneath her, and Jesse’s hands were hard and hot as he continued to explore her. Bella’s eyes slid shut on the sensations rippling through her body—there was too much sensory input. Too many feelings. Too many things rushing through her mind, vying for recognition. She was here, in Jesse’s bed, with his big hands sliding over her skin, and she knew that no matter what else happened between them, nothing would take away the perfection of this night.

She opened her eyes when he stepped back from her and watched him as he quickly stripped out of his clothes. Through the skylight, a swath of moonlight fell across his naked body and Bella couldn’t help thinking how beautiful he was. She smiled and he answered it.

“I remember,” he said softly, “just how beautiful you are in moonlight.”

“Funny,” she answered, “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

One corner of his mouth lifted. “Men aren’t beautiful, Bella.”

“You are,” she assured him and watched new hunger flash in his eyes.

“Enough talk,” he told her and leaned over her on the bed. In a few short seconds, he had her bra undone and off and was sliding her silky panties down her legs to fall to the floor. She twisted beneath him, trying to press herself even more tightly to him, to feel every inch of his hard, warm body along hers.

His hands seemed to be everywhere at once, she thought wildly as passion spiked and desire boiled. Her breasts, her belly, and lower still to the heart of her. Talented fingers and thumb stroked her center, making her writhe beneath him as need built into a firestorm that threatened to engulf her.

Again and again, he pushed her close to the edge of oblivion, only to ease back and keep her from reaching the peak of satisfaction that he held just out of reach. Her hips lifted into his hand as he lowered his head and took first one nipple and then the next into the heat of his mouth. His lips and tongue and teeth scraped and suckled at already too sensitized flesh and Bella was moaning now, from deep in her throat.

Her short, neat fingernails scraped at his back as she twisted beneath him. She slid her hands up, into his thick, golden hair and held him to her as his mouth continued to work at her breasts. “Jesse…”

“Soon,” he promised, his words a whisper of a caress against her flesh.

It had to be soon, or she would die of the wanting. She felt her body coiling tighter and tighter and knew she couldn’t take much more of his. “I need you. Inside. Jesse, please.”

He lifted his head, stared down at her and she saw the same passion she was feeling mirrored in his eyes. Her heart turned over in her chest and something wild and wonderful spilled through her bloodstream. There was more here than want. More than just need. There was a soul-deep connection between them. She felt it. Knew it. Recognized it.

Then he kissed her, plunging his tongue deeply into her mouth and thoughts scattered like dead leaves in a cold wind. His fingers continued to stroke and tease her, even as he moved to settle himself between her thighs.

She lifted her hips in silent invitation and when he eased back from their kiss, sitting on his haunches to look down at her, Bella felt like the most beautiful woman on the face of the planet. He looked at her with such a craving, she felt powerful and strong and enticing.

He parted her thighs farther, sliding his hands up and down the inside of her legs until she hissed in a breath and whispered brokenly, “Jesse, now.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, pushing his body into hers in one long, heated slide, “now.”

She groaned as he filled her and her body stretched to accommodate him. He held perfectly still inside her for one long moment. Until she moved beneath him, showing him that she was ready for him. For all he could give her.

Jesse watched her eyes glaze and felt the thrumming of her heartbeat as he lowered his head to kiss her breasts, each in turn. His own heartbeat was galloping in his chest. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath and he didn’t care. This was what he’d been searching for these last three years. This woman. This moment. This link.

But as she sinuously moved beneath him, his mind blanked and his body took over. There would be time for thinking later. Much later. For now, he had everything he could want, right here in his arms.

He moved within her—sure, long strokes designed to draw the pleasure out, to stoke it so high they might both burn in the aftermath. Again and again, he laid claim to her and with every stroke. She met him, lifting her hips into him, sliding into a smooth rhythm he’d found with no one else. It was as if their bodies recognized what their minds had been fighting. That they belonged together. They fit.

He braced his hands on either side of her head, looked down into chocolate-brown eyes that sparkled and shone in the moonlight and gave himself up to what was happening. He felt her body stiffen, knew the moment when her climax claimed her and watched the magic in her eyes. Only then did he allow himself to follow after, his body shattering.

When the last of the tremors finally ceased, he collapsed atop her and felt her arms come around him, cradling him to her chest.

The night passed too quickly and Jesse couldn’t seem to get enough of her. Again and again, they made love and each time was better than the one before. They came together, dozed briefly, then made love again. Finally, around 2:00 a.m., they threw on robes and raided the kitchen, at last getting around to eating the meal his housekeeper had left for them. It was cold, but they didn’t care. They drank wine, ate their meal and then he had her as dessert on the kitchen table.

He couldn’t keep his hands off her and even as he experienced it, Jesse knew how different this was for him. He’d never wanted a woman to stay the night with him before. And with Bella, he didn’t want her to leave. As long as he kept her there, at his house, nothing would change.

Once the world intruded, everything would be different.

But he couldn’t ignore the dawn. Jesse was used to waking up early. The habit came from all those years of pulling on a wet suit and heading to the beach to sit on a board and watch the rising sun blaze across the surface of the water. As far as he was concerned, the dawn was still the best part of the day.

Bella was sleeping when he slipped out of bed to start a pot of coffee. His housekeeper wouldn’t arrive until noon, so breakfast would be up to him. He smiled as he thought about taking Bella some coffee and then convincing her to take a nice, hot shower with him.

Still smiling, he hit the button on the coffeepot, then walked through the quiet house to the front door. He stepped outside, picked up the paper off the porch, then went back into the house, unfolding the paper as he strolled at a leisurely pace back to the kitchen.

While he waited for the pot to brew, he leaned back against the counter and flipped through the thin, local paper, checking out the news and admiring the ad King Beach was running. He finally hit the editorial page and paused to pour his first cup of the day. Taking a sip, he skimmed the letters to the editor and smiled as he read the complaints on everything from skateboarding kids to dogs being unwelcome on the beach.

“Gotta love a small town,” he murmured, “there’s always someone with something to say—”

Then he spotted one specific letter and scowled. He shot a glance at the floor above him, then deliberately took a breath, poured two more cups of coffee and tucking the paper under his arm, headed for the master bedroom. Bella was still snuggled under the quilt when he walked in and just for a second, he thought about ignoring the stupid newspaper in favor of joining her on the big bed.

Then he shook his head, and crossed the room. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he set the coffee on the side table and reached down to smooth her hair back from her face. She was beautiful. And terribly sneaky.

“Bella,” he said, “wake up.”

“What? Why?” She pulled the pillow over her head and slipped deeper beneath the quilt.

Jesse plucked the pillow free, tossed it aside and said again, “Come on, wake up.”

One brown eye opened and glared at him. “Jesse, it’s still dark.”

“It’s dawn and the paper’s here. The Morgan Beach weekly.” He was watching her, waiting for her to respond.

“That’s nice.” She sniffed and blinked blearily at him. “I smell coffee.”

“Have some,” he said, offering her the cup as she scooted around and pushed a pillow behind her back. The sheet was drawn up, covering her breasts, and her hair was tousled. She looked beautiful. And so damn innocent.

Funny, in all his plans for her, he’d never once considered that she might still be working against him. Plotting. Planning. Turns out, he should have.

She took a sip, sighed, then blinked again, trying to focus on him. “Why are we awake?”

“I always wake up early.”

“That’s a hideous habit,” she said sleepily, giving him a soft smile, “made slightly less hideous by the fact that you at least provide coffee.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, holding the newspaper up. “And reading material.”

“What?” She stared at the paper he’d folded to a specific section. A second or two ticked past before her eyes went wide and she whispered, “Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” he said, both eyebrows rising high on his forehead. “Your letter to the editor was printed this morning.”

“Jesse…”

“Wait, I want to read you my favorite part,” he said, fixing his gaze on the short, to-the-point letter she’d written.

“Morgan Beach is selling its soul to a corporate raider who doesn’t care what happens to us and our homes as long as his company makes a profit. We should all band together and let Jesse King know that we won’t be bought. We won’t surrender who we are. Morgan Beach was here before Jesse King and it will be here long after he tires of playing at being a member of this community.”

Bella’s eyes closed and a groan slipped from her throat. She covered her eyes with one hand as if she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Her expression was one of pure misery and Jesse didn’t mind admitting to himself that he was glad about that, at least.

“Very nice,” he said, sarcasm icing his tone. “I especially like the ‘corporate raider’ part. Seems to be a theme with you. And the rest of it’s pretty good, too. You should be a writer.”

“I was angry.”

“Was?” he repeated, picking up on that one word. “So you’re not anymore?”

She hitched the sheet a little higher, then scooped one hand through her hair, swiping it back from her face. “I don’t know.”

“Great, you don’t know,” he said, standing up and walking to one of the windows. Jesse felt as if he’d been kicked in the gut. He had known all along that Bella had a problem with what he’d been doing since he hit town, but damn.

She’d just spent the night with him, all the time knowing that she’d taken another public shot at him.

Thoughts of the night before rushed through his mind. How could she have been so eager, so responsive, if this is how she still felt about him? Strange, but he felt used. And suddenly, he realized how all the women in his life must have been left feeling.

Hell of a time for an epiphany.

He stared blindly out at the ocean and tried to ignore the rustle of bedsheets that told him she was getting up. But even pissed, his insides twisted, knowing she was close by and naked. How twisted was that, he wondered, to want the one woman who hated his guts?

A moment later, she joined him at the window, his black-and-white quilt wrapped around her curvy body like a toga.

“I’d forgotten all about writing that letter,” she said.

“If that’s an apology, it sucks.” He tossed the newspaper onto a chair and took a gulp of his coffee.

“It’s not an apology,” she said. “I meant it when I wrote it so I can’t apologize for that.”

He glanced at her. “Great.” He paused, then asked, “Did you mean all that? Do you really think I don’t care what happens to this place?”

“Jesse,” she said with a shake of her head, “when I moved here, I loved it.” She looked out the window at the ocean and the sunrise, just staining the horizon. “I’d never really had a home before. I…grew up in the foster system.”

She said it so matter-of-factly, Jesse couldn’t even offer sympathy. But he remembered how longingly she’d looked at the photos of his family, how she’d seemed so caught up in the fact that they were a huge, yet close group. And then he thought about what it must have been like to grow up alone. What it might have been like for him if he hadn’t had his brothers and cousins. He couldn’t help feeling a stab of sympathy for the little girl she’d once been, who’d had nowhere to call home.

And he wondered a bit that he could feel so much for her. He should have stayed pissed. Yet…looking at her, he just couldn’t seem to hold on to the feeling.