Seducing the Lost Heir
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Yvonne Lindsay
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One
She’d only had two glasses of champagne, but she was already beginning to feel a little buzzed. Definitely time to stop drinking alcohol. Honor Gould had learned the hard way, by watching her mom, what happened when buzzed turned to drunk and drunk turned to dangerous and stupid decisions.
The noise in the downtown Seattle hotel bar had reached deafening levels as conference delegates poured in. It never failed to amaze her to see so many people who could be totally professional in their day-to-day business get so messy when they let their hair down. She rarely let go of her rigid self-control, and certainly never among strangers. No, Honor had a plan, and getting a little too drunk or a little too loud was not anywhere on her list of things to do.
One of her fellow conference delegates passed her a fresh glass of champagne. Honor shook her head.
“No, thanks, I’ve had enough,” she said firmly.
“Aw, come on. It’s not every year you get to celebrate being commercial interior designer of the year,” the guy protested, pushing the flute of sparkling golden liquid back in her direction.
To shut him up, Honor accepted the glass and lifted it in a toast, but the glass never made it to her lips.
“Thank you,” she said with a smile that masked her irritation.
“That’s more like it,” he said. Then, to her relief, he turned his attention to a new group of people coming into the bar, their raucous laughter filling the air.
Honor moved away from the crowd to find a quieter spot at the end of the bar. From here she could do her usual observations before heading up to the room she’d booked to ensure she’d be fresh for the early session she was presenting tomorrow morning before going into work. She doubted the session would be particularly well attended, given that many of her fellow conference goers would likely need to sleep in after tonight. But that didn’t bother her. She was mostly interested in adding the presentation to her résumé. After dragging herself up from the gutters her mother had been satisfied dwelling in, Honor was on a trajectory to success and wealth of the kind she’d perpetually dreamed as a little girl. The award at the dinner tonight, her presentation at this prestigious conference—they were all tiny steps along the way to reaching her goals. To security. Comfort. Choices.
She put the untouched champagne flute on the bar behind her and ordered a sparkling mineral water from one of the bar staff, who were run off their feet with the steady influx of patrons. She’d drink her water and head back up to her room. No one would notice she was missing, and it would give her an opportunity to go over her notes for tomorrow again.
Honor had just received her drink and raised the glass to her lips for a sip when she felt a frisson of awareness send a trickle of heat down her spine. She turned slightly, her gaze instantly arrested by the arrival of a newcomer to the bar.
Keaton? He was here? Had he come to surprise her?
She couldn’t believe her eyes. Her fiancé was not a man of spontaneous actions. When she’d told him she’d be at the hotel for the conference for two days, he’d merely nodded and continued with his work. When she’d invited him to attend the awards dinner as her plus-one, he’d mentioned some business dinner he couldn’t get out of. And yet, here he was, heading past the bar toward a small table set against a wall.
He was a handsome man. A real head-turner. But Keaton always acted as if he was completely unaware of his appeal to others, and today was no exception. He looked tired. Shattered, in fact. He lowered his tall frame into a chair and looked up with a smile at the waitress who instantly approached him. Interesting that in a room packed full of patrons and potential tips, she made a beeline for Keaton, Honor thought with an ironic smile. She realized she was using the thumb of her left hand to twirl her engagement ring back and forth, like she always did when she was slightly anxious about something, and forced herself to stop.
There was an air of something different about him tonight that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but then she got it. He was dressed far too casually. Keaton Richmond was the kind of man who never dressed down—not even for a picnic. Not that they’d made a habit of casual al fresco dining, she conceded. But the leather jacket draped over his shoulders looked well worn and soft, as if he’d owned it for years. She didn’t remember seeing it on him ever before, but then again, as they didn’t live together, it wasn’t as if she was privy to everything he had in his wardrobe.
He lifted his head and scanned the room, his eyes skimming past her before doubling back to give her another look. She smiled at him. He didn’t smile back initially, but then his lips curved into a half smile that sent a bolt of longing straight to her core. She straightened and was about to move toward him, but he turned his head and continued to survey the room before focusing his attention to the bar snacks menu standing on his table.
So, he was playing a game now, was he? Pretending he didn’t even know her. Honor didn’t know whether to be annoyed or intrigued. Maybe he’d actually listened the last time they’d had a discussion about where their relationship was heading. Goodness knew they hadn’t had sex in months and, even then, it had been an outlet rather than an expression of devotion. She’d begun to wonder if all her hopes and dreams for her future were on the road to being dashed.
Keaton had been noncommittal when she’d suggested they spice things up in the bedroom, maybe even move in together before the wedding, for which they had yet to set a date. This limbo they’d allowed themselves to fall into had begun to niggle at her in ways it shouldn’t have. She and Keaton had worked together at his family’s firm since she’d joined it five years ago, and they’d begun to date two years ago. They’d gotten engaged eighteen months later.
It had hardly been the romance of the century, but then again, Honor had told herself she was never looking for romance. Look at where that had gotten her mom. No, when she’d won her role at Richmond Developments, she’d set her sights on the top of their corporate ladder, and if marrying the CEO’s son would get her there faster, then she was prepared to do even that to reach her goal. Besides, it wasn’t as if she didn’t like or respect Keaton. They just needed to rekindle the spark now and then.
But games weren’t his style.
So why was he playing one now?
It intrigued her on a level that made her want to play along and see exactly where this was headed. The waitress brought a tall lager over to Keaton’s table. Again, he surprised her. She’d never known Keaton to drink beer. Not even on a hot summer’s day. She continued to observe him as he lifted the frosted glass to his lips and tipped it up, taking long, steady gulps. She watched the muscles of his throat work as he swallowed, saw the moisture glistening on his lips as he set the glass down again. Felt the visceral tug of desire that pulled hard inside her as he licked his lips. He looked up again. Caught her eye.
He looked surprised to find her still staring at him, and he gave her that half smile again. Honor felt her nipples tighten into hard nubs that rubbed against the lace of her demi-cup bra. Wow. She couldn’t remember when she’d felt this uncontrollably drawn to him. It was time to stop playing games and time to act. Honor reached into her clutch and extracted one of the two room key cards she’d been given at check-in and palmed it in her hand.
The woman sashayed across the room; there was no other way to describe it. She was dressed in a formfitting black cocktail dress with very interesting cutouts at the waist that fit as if it had been made for her. Logan watched as she determinedly made her way through the crowd. Several people tried to draw her into conversation, but she smoothly turned each attempt aside, her focus solely on him.
He’d had no sleep on the twelve-plus-hour flight that had left his home city of Auckland, New Zealand, at nine last night. On arrival in Los Angeles, he’d caught a connecting flight up to Seattle. Severely jet-lagged and trying desperately to adjust to a time zone that was twenty hours behind his own, he’d forced himself to go for a walk and stay awake on arrival. Now all he craved was a cold beer, a light meal and bed. He wasn’t looking for polite conversation or company, but it looked as though company was coming, whether he wanted it or not.
And, he had to admit, she was a darn fine-looking woman. Her blond hair was long and thick and swept over one shoulder, the ends of it just reaching her breasts. Breasts he could see a glimpse of through the keyhole at the front of her dress. The garment was sophisticated and sexy. Even so, he’d bet it would look better off. Like on the floor of his hotel room.
Logan shook his head. Nope, nope, nope. He wasn’t here for any of that. He was here to find his identity, however lame that sounded. Hell, he was a grown, thirty-four-year-old man. If he didn’t know who he was by now, he was probably making a mess of his life. But he’d been confident he knew exactly who he was—right up until he’d found that box tucked away in the back of his late mom’s wardrobe when he was clearing her house for sale. Everyone joked about finding skeletons in a closet after someone had passed away. He hadn’t expected to be the skeleton.
A sense of frustration beat at the back of his mind. He’d spent his whole life calling Alison Parker Mom. But, as it turned out, she wasn’t his mother. And now he was here in the United States to find the people who were his real parents and hoping like hell they’d accept him.
In his moment of reverie, the stunning creature in the killer black dress had drawn up closer to him. He felt her presence before he became fully aware of her intentions. Her hand caught his chin and tilted his face up to hers and then, quite shockingly, she kissed him.
At first Logan didn’t respond—in fact, his overtired brain was in such a state of disbelief he couldn’t even react, but then instinct won over. The silky softness of her lips on his sent every nerve in his body into screaming overload. His eyes slid closed, and he focused solely on the sensation of her mouth on his. On the feel of her tantalizing lips, and then on the thrilling texture of her tongue as she licked the seam of his mouth. All sound around them faded into nothing. All he could hear was the pounding of his blood through his veins as his heart rate went into double time. All he could smell was the sultry, spicy hint of her fragrance.
And then it was over. She was moving away. His eyes flicked open. He went to speak, but she put one forefinger against his lips.
“Don’t say a word, lover. Room 6035. Meet me upstairs in ten minutes.”
With that, she pressed a key card into his palm and walked away. He watched in stunned amazement as she continued out into the foyer and toward the elevator bank. Logan’s fingers closed tight around the key card. There was no way in hell he was going to follow her upstairs. No way. Therein lay trouble for certain. He’d be drugged, have organs stolen and wake up in a bath packed with ice.
Or he’d have the best freaking night of his entire life.
The sliders and fries he’d ordered arrived, together with a second beer. He eyed them both before rapidly consuming the sliders and leaving the beer. No more alcohol for him. He needed a clear head. He flicked a glance at his watch. Ten minutes was up. He could still feel her lips on his own. Before he even realized he had reached a decision, Logan left a handful of bills on the table and was on his feet and walking toward the elevators.
He got out on the sixth floor and walked down the corridor, hesitating a moment outside room 6035. Then he raised the key card to the reader at the door. The light went green, and he stepped inside. The room was dimly lit, but he had no difficulty finding the enticing creature who’d kissed him senseless in the bar and then made him break with every ounce of common sense he’d ever possessed. What was he doing, coming to a stranger’s hotel room like this?
The woman still wore her dress but had slipped off the killer heels.
“I’m glad you came,” she said, walking toward him.
She wound her arms around his neck and reached up to kiss him. Again, that intoxicating blend of her fragrance wafted gently around him, seducing his senses into believing that coming here was a very, very good idea. Logan felt his entire body go up in flames. He wanted her like he’d wanted nothing else. Regret, doubt, confusion—those were all emotions for other people to worry about. Not him. Not now. Not here.
He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her in closer. He didn’t feel the need to speak, had no desire to break the spell. He deepened the kiss, letting his tongue slide between her lips and experiencing the stimulating taste that was uniquely this woman. She splayed her hands through his short-cropped hair, her nails gently raking his scalp and sending tiny electric jolts through his entire body.
And then her hands were at his shoulders, sliding his leather jacket off and tugging at his shirt. He moved his hands to assist her and broke contact with her lips for only as long as it took him to tear the shirt up over his head and away from his overheated flesh. When their lips met again, he could feel the texture of her dress against his bare skin, but it wasn’t enough. His hands slid around her back and up to the neckline of her dress, feeling for the zipper. Success! He caught the tab between a thumb and forefinger and slowly, slowly pulled it down.
Logan wrenched his mouth from hers and stepped away, not wanting to miss a moment of this reveal. At first the woman looked coy, as if she had suddenly grown shy, but then as he watched she lifted her hands to her shoulders and shrugged the top of her dress loose before letting it slide down her body. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her. Honey-gold skin gleamed in the low light of the hotel room. Her breasts swelled and spilled over the half cups of her black bra, and a matching pair of briefs slung high on her hips, making her legs look as if they went on forever.
He swallowed against the sudden dryness in his mouth and stepped forward. He started to reach for her, his hands hesitating only an inch or so from her body. He could feel the heat pouring off her, a heat matched by his own body.
“May I?” he asked.
She smiled and ducked her head in a faint nod. It was all the encouragement he needed. He cupped her breasts through the lacy bra and thumbed the hard peaks of her nipples. A tiny gasp fell from the mystery woman’s lips, and he captured it in another kiss. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her. He eased the straps of her bra off her shoulders and pulled down one cup. Her nipple was a taut bud, and he pinched it lightly between his forefinger and his thumb. He felt the tremor that rippled through her.
“Is that okay?” he asked, his voice little more than a growl.
“More,” she begged him.
He repeated the movement, then lowered his head to capture that deep rose-pink nub of flesh with his lips. Again, she shook and sighed. He laved her nipple with his tongue before nipping it lightly.
“More,” she demanded now, her hands holding his head to her as if she couldn’t bear for him to stop.
And nor could he. Everything about her called to him. Her scent, her taste, her husky pleas that were driving him mad. This all felt like some crazy dream, but he knew he didn’t want to wake up. Reality would come back to bite him soon enough. For now, he’d take what he’d been freely offered. And he’d give in return.
Logan backed her against the bed and eased her onto the mattress. He stood between her legs and unbuckled his belt before kicking off his shoes and sliding down his jeans and socks. He didn’t trust himself to remove his briefs just yet. Right now he felt as though he was primed and ready to blow. Her slightest touch would be his undoing, and there was no way he was wasting this opportunity. First of all, he was going to make absolutely certain that his mystery woman was with him all the way.
He hooked his fingers in the sides of her panties and slid them down her long, glorious legs. A neat triangle of dark blond hair nestled at the apex of her thighs; he hadn’t seen anything quite as sexy in a very long time. Logan lowered himself over her body and reached under her to unsnap the fastening on her bra before easing the confection of lace away from her skin.
“Has anyone ever told you just how exquisitely beautiful you are?” he asked, skimming his hand lightly over the peaks of her breasts before cupping their full weight and squeezing gently.
“Only you,” she said on a hoarse whisper, her eyelids fluttering closed as he began to kiss her breasts.
She was writhing beneath him, her hips straining against his. It was all he could do not to unleash his arousal and take her right then, but he was determined to do this right. To ensure she found her pleasure before he even considered taking his. He kissed a warm, wet trail down over her rib cage and to the center of her stomach before drawing a moist line to her belly button with his tongue. He swirled the tip of his tongue in the neat indentation before continuing lower.
He knelt on the floor beside the bed and leaned into her. His nostrils flared on the heated musky scent of her sex, and a pulse of demand bolted through him. He’d never been as completely aware of another human being as he was of this woman. He gently cupped the heated core of her body and felt her push against his palm, striving for more pressure.
“Impatient?” he asked softly.
He took his hand away and blew a stream of air over her mound and lower still. Her skin there glistened with moisture, and the waves of heat that poured off her almost scorched his fingertips as he let them drift around her entrance.
“You’re torturing me,” she moaned as he dipped one finger inside her.
“But it’s a nice kind of torture, right?”
She clenched tight around him, and for a second all Logan could think about was what that tension would feel like around his penis. But it wasn’t his time yet. First, he had to have her trembling with satiation and then he would lift her back up to the heights of physical pleasure all over again. He pressed his nose against her mound and inhaled her deeply, feeling her in every part of him. Then, using his tongue, he began to tease at her clitoris. At first it was just small darts of pressure, but then he began to swirl his tongue around the tight bead of nerve endings. Her breathing grew more rapid, and he looked up at her. Her head was pressed back against the mattress, and a light sheen of perspiration made her chest glisten. A rosy flush was spreading there and her nipples had drawn even more impossibly tight than they’d been before.
Logan eased another finger inside her, stroking her inside and driving her toward what he hoped would be her ultimate satisfaction. He never stopped with the movements of his tongue and then, when he felt she was on the verge of breaking apart, he closed his mouth around her clit and drew on it hard. She fractured beneath him. Her inner muscles squeezed his fingers in a rhythmic pulse that drove him wild. He waited until her body went lax before he moved.
“I didn’t know you had that in you,” she said in a voice laden with satisfaction.
“Oh, I’ve got more.”
He reached for his trousers, slipped his wallet from his pocket and dragged a condom out. It might be a cliché, but it always paid to be prepared. He quickly slid off his briefs and covered his length with the condom before standing, hooking her knees with his hands and scooting her to the edge of the bed.
“You still okay?” he said.
He’d stop here and now if she said no. It would likely be the toughest thing he’d ever done in his life, but he’d do it.
“Never better,” she answered. “Do it. Do me.”
He smiled as he positioned himself at her entrance. She was slick with her recent orgasm, and he was inside her in one easy glide. Logan squeezed his eyes shut and held on to the last remnants of his control as he felt her body adjust around him.
“What are you waiting for?” she asked, giving him a squeeze with her internal muscles.
“This,” he said as he withdrew and surged back into her again.
At that point everything blurred; there was nothing else in the world except her body and his, joined in the most intimate way a man and woman could be joined. He pumped into her, and she met his every thrust with one of her own. Her breath came in gasps and her hands clutched the bedding beneath her. Logan forced his eyes open, forced himself to look at her, to imprint her image—like this, beneath him, as lost in him as he was lost in her.
He saw that flush creep over her chest again and knew she was close to coming. He had to see her into that sea of pleasure before he could let go. The pulse started deep inside her body, growing stronger with every surge until she peaked, and with it, he reached his climax, too. Again and again, his pleasure rocketed through him. Deep, intense and fiercely satisfying on a primal level.
Logan lowered himself onto her and rolled them both onto their sides. He was still inside her, could still feel her body and his, hearts beating to their perfect rhythm as their pleasure began to ebb and reality began to take its place. The woman raised one hand to his face, tracing his features and looking deep into his eyes.
“I didn’t know we could be like this,” she said. “That was—no, you—were perfect.”
“We were perfect,” he agreed.
He kissed her then, long and deep and slow. This wasn’t the kind of thing he’d ever done before, but they’d both been willing partners and together they’d found a perfection not many had the pleasure of reaching on their first time together.
First and last, he reminded himself. He withdrew from her body and they lay there, their hearts and breathing returning to a normal tempo. He needed to clean up, so he rose from the bed and went through to the bathroom. When he returned, he noticed immediately that she had pulled the covers over herself and fallen fast asleep. While his instincts urged him to join her there, he saw the dismissal in her actions.
She’d had an itch, and he’d scratched it. No harm. No foul.
Logan reached for his clothing and quickly dressed. Leaving her key card on the bedside table, he switched off the light before letting himself out of the room.
He’d never see her again, but he’d never forget her, or this night, for as long as he lived.
