Taking Home the Tycoon (Texas Cattleman's Club: Blackmail 9)

“There’s a private elevator from here to my office. But since it’s Saturday, you won’t have to meet a bunch of strangers. Most likely just my partner, Will, if he hasn’t already left for Texas.”

“I’m glad you’ll have some help with your partner in Royal.” She shifted her weight from right to left. The allure of the window called to her, and she found herself staring at the backdrop again.

“I will appreciate the fresh perspective. I feel as if I’ve hit a wall with uncovering who’s behind the blackmail cyberattacks. After interviewing damn near everyone in town and scouring through all available internet data on them—including some backdoor searches it’s best we don’t discuss—I’ve hit a dead end. If I’m, uh, distracted, and missing something obvious, I need to know and I trust Will.” He finished seasoning the meat, the spicy scent of garlic lingering in the air.

“Distracted?” She couldn’t resist crinkling her nose at him playfully.

As he washed his hands, he tossed a wicked grin over his shoulder. “C’mon. Let me give you the grand tour of my company. I will warn you, it isn’t as cozy as your setup.”

“I would enjoy seeing your offices very much. And I totally understand that you’re unlikely to have crayons and coloring books all over everywhere.” She clasped his hand, electricity sparking between them with every touch.

The squeeze he gave her hand confirmed that he felt that connection, too.

He walked to the fireplace and keyed in a code. A large mirror slid to the side, revealing a private elevator. Definitely a different world than her homey bed-and-breakfast.

The elevator moved smoothly down ten floors from his penthouse condo, the doors sliding open to...not what she expected. She’d thought they would step into a lobby, but this elevator led straight to his office.

He shrugged. “It’s a time saver. I’m able to slip into the office after hours and I’m able to step into work other times without people stopping me with a million questions. It’s efficient.”

She raised a hand. “You don’t have to defend your wealth to me. You’ve made a huge success of your life. You should be proud of yourself.”

“I do love high-tech toys.” He pulled what appeared to be a small remote from his pocket.

Halogen bulbs winked on, flooding the room in bright white. Like his apartment, the space was sleek, embodying the bold architectural flair of Seattle. But with hints of color, hints of him...

A mixed-media Sherlock Holmes–themed painting depicting A Study in Scarlet hung behind his desk. No pictures, though.

She made his way toward his desk to inspect whisper-thin computer screens and touch pads. A neat pile of paper. An abacus. Orderly. So different than the chaos of the sewing room. Natalie heard the door click behind her.

She let out a low whistle, taking a turn about the room as she shrugged out of her sweater. “It suits you. What do you have to get done tonight?”

Natalie watched his eyes follow the descent of her fluffy sweater onto the desk. The temperature hadn’t changed, but her body was heating.

“Um, I just wanted to show you the place and get, um—” His throat bobbed, eyes lingering on her curves.

Feminine power flamed inside her and she welcomed the distraction from all the conflicting thoughts tumbling through her mind, jockeying for dominance. She angled back against his desk, crossing her legs at the ankles and holding his gaze. She tilted her head to the side as he approached.

He drew her in, their first embrace since she had arrived. For a moment—an infinity, it seemed like—they shared each other’s gazes, drank in the nuances in each iris.

He angled his face toward hers, and his lips grazed her neck. Small kisses. A deep sigh pressed hot air onto her neck as he said, “Actually, I have a lot to do here in my office tonight.”

Ten

Max had intended the trip to his office to be a quick stop to pick up work and then return to his penthouse to romance her with dinner on his balcony. Followed by an evening of lovemaking.

Apparently, they were mixing the order of his plans.

Leaving little time for conversation or regrets, Max flattened her back against the door. He kissed her, hard, fast, fully. Reasonable thoughts fell away as fast as her purse thudded to the floor. Heat poured from her lips, pulsing through his veins into a throbbing need.

Now that she’d made it clear she wanted him, he couldn’t resist. Finally, he had her here, on his turf, in his domain.

And they were alone. Completely.

She grinned against his mouth. “Here?”

“If that’s agreeable to you.”

She took a step back, slipping her arms through the sleeves of her dress. “Very agreeable.”