It was still early, the workday not officially started, when Reese looked up at her from behind his desk, his expression unreadable.
“How was your weekend?” he asked.
She opened her mouth to make some bland reply but emotion welled up and unexpected words tumbled out. “Arthur killed DeMarco. Arthur’s dead, too.” As if the police wouldn’t have already told him. Dear God, she needed to get a grip.
His features softened as he rose from his desk and walked toward her. Kenzie rose, as well. Uncertain, she took a hesitant step in his direction. Reese closed the distance and pulled her into his arms.
“I heard the news. I tried to call you. Are you okay? How’s Griff?”
A breath trembled out. “Griff’s doing fine. We’re both all right.” Unable to ignore her feelings any longer, she slid her arms around his neck and just hung on. “I missed you. I missed you so much.”
A shudder went through his hard frame. “I missed you, too.” Reese bent his head and kissed her, softly at first, then deeper.
The kiss lingered, went on and on, neither of them wanting the moment to end. The feel of his mouth over hers sent heat pulsing through her. The kiss went deeper, turned wilder, hotter, burned completely out of control. She wanted to strip him naked, have her way with him on top of his desk. She wanted him inside her so much she ached with it.
“I need you,” he said against the side of her neck. “It’s all I can do not to take you right here.” He kissed her again and every sensible thought flew out of her head.
“We can’t...can’t do that.” Heat flushed her cheeks as she looked up at him. “Can we?”
His gaze went from guarded blue to hot blue flame. “My family owns the company. Hell, the whole damned building belongs to us. As long as it’s what you want, too, we can do whatever we damn well please.”
Striding to the door, he pushed the lock, walked back, and started kissing her again. The next thing she knew her blouse was unbuttoned, the front hook on her bra undone. Reese filled his hands with her breasts, lowered his head, and took a nipple into his mouth.
Kenzie moaned softly. Sliding her hands into his silky black hair, she arched her back to give him better access. Her heart pounded as desire burned through her. She was panting and on fire.
“I want you,” she said. “I ache with wanting you, Reese.”
A growl came from his throat. Reese kissed his way down her neck and nipped an earlobe, sending little shivers over her skin.
“We don’t have time for this,” he said gruffly. “Not enough time for me to do it right.”
“I don’t care.” She trembled. “Please, Reese.”
He kissed her again, long, wet, and deep. She felt his hands sliding her skirt up around her waist, then he turned her around and she understood what he wanted, bent over his desk, and felt the snap of her thong as Reese ripped it away.
It was a secret, forbidden fantasy that he would take her this way, claim her in some wild, primitive fashion. He slid into her, touched her as he took her fast and hard, both of them burning out of control. Reaching the edge, she tipped into climax at supersonic speed. Pleasure scorched through her, meshed with the love she felt for him, drawing the moment into what seemed like forever.
As they began to spiral down, Reese adjusted her clothes, turned her into his arms, and just held her. Kissing her softly one last time, he left to deal with the condom he’d dug out of his wallet.
Kenzie used his private bathroom to freshen herself and came out neatly dressed, her hair finger-combed back in place. The only evidence of their misconduct was the flush in her cheeks and Reese’s look of male satisfaction.
“We need to talk,” he said. “It’s been hell not knowing what you’re thinking, how you’re feeling. I can deal with just about anything, as long as I know where I stand.”
She looked up at him and wondered if her feelings showed in her eyes. “I owe you an apology. You’ve done nothing but try to help me from the start. Things just seemed to get so mixed-up. I’ve been trying to figure out what’s best for Griff. And even though I’m innocent of Lee’s murder, I’m still the number one suspect. Dragging you into my problems just isn’t fair.”
He paced over to the window, stood looking down at the street teeming with people fourteen stories below.
He turned back to her. “You don’t owe me anything, Kenzie. In a way I owe you.” He sighed. “After everything that’s happened, I wasn’t expecting to see you today. I set up a meeting tonight with a group of regional managers. Some of them are flying in from out of town. I can try to cancel, but—”
“You can’t do that, Reese. Whatever happens, you still have a job to do.” She quashed her disappointment. Reese was CEO. He had duties, responsibilities. Accepting those responsibilities made him the man he was, the man she’d fallen in love with.
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “I was planning to fly down to Houston in the morning. We’ll be closing on the Poseidon deal this week. I need to make that long-overdue trip out to the rig.” His eyes found hers. There was something in them. It looked almost like longing.
“If you went with me, we could spend the night together. We could talk things over, figure things out. What do you think?”
Her eyes misted. After all the trouble, he still wanted to be with her. “I’d love to go. Gran is with Griff and it’s only one night.”
The tension went out of his wide shoulders. He gave her the sweetest smile. “Okay, then. I’ve got a lot to do before we leave, so we’d better get to work.”
Those incredible blue eyes ran over her, heated again. She read their silent message. Before I think of another way to use my desk.
Kenzie’s blush returned, the idea all too tempting. It was eight o’clock in the morning, the office just open. She flicked him a last amused glance. “I’ll get my notepad,” she said.
* * *
The morning was slipping away. Sunlight sliced through the crack in the bedroom curtains, reminding Troy he was overdue at the office, but he made no move to get out of bed. After the best sex of his life, he lay spent and sated among his expensive black satin sheets. Delia Parr curled up on the bed beside him, a red-painted nail toying with the sparse black hair on his chest.
Troy had started seeing Delia after Lee Haines’s death. He’d called to comfort her in the loss of her fiancé. He chuckled—and comfort her he had. The woman was completely uninhibited, he’d discovered, and totally insatiable.
She was also a money-hungry bitch.
Which was how Lee Haines had managed to get into her pants.