Seducing the Billionaire's Secretary Page 3

  However, he would be a gentleman. No matter what she wore... or didn’t wear. She expected him to be a cad, to fall back on their usual banter, but tonight, that was not going to happen.

  “You look beautiful¸” he said, taking her hand in his and lifting it to his lips. Pressing a kiss to her knuckles, he led her to the table he had his personal room butler prepare for them.

  “Thank you.” She pulled her hand out of his grip and seated herself before he could do the honors. “I assume we’re having oysters.”

  Cupping her shoulders, he leaned down to whisper, “How predictable, Ms. Simpson.”

  She glanced up at him. “Well, we are talking about you.”

  Not an inch. Damn, the woman was determined to keep him out. “I hope you brought your appetite. George will serve us tonight while we dine.” He removed the cloche from the large platter filled with her favorite things.

  Her gaze flew to his. “Junk food?” She gingerly picked up a nacho laden with beef, refried beans, and cheese, examining it as if she really couldn’t believe it was there.

  “Your favorites.” He knew what she ate when she was stressed or when she worked late nights. Americana-style appetizers.

  “How did you—?” Her eyes narrowed. “Snooping, I see.”

  “Actually, I’ve known you for three years. Every Friday night, you have one of three things delivered: nachos, chicken wings, or potato skins.”

  “You paid attention to that?”

  He paid attention to everything about her. “Yes.”

  “Oh.” With a slight cant of her head, she bit into the nacho. Her eyes closed momentarily in pleasure. “This is good.”

  He sat in the chair beside her and began to eat as well. George popped into the room, a tray of beverages balancing on the tips of his fingers.

  Ella’s face registered surprise. “Cherry cokes?”

  “And your favorite beer,” Blake said with a smile.

  “I haven’t had these in weeks.”

  “You don’t need to diet,” he pointed out.

  She grinned, taking a bottle of beer and the glass of coke with cherries floating on the top. “But I do need to live past thirty-four.” She made a little face. “And fit into my bridesmaid’s dress.”

  “Me too.” He scooped up a generous portion of nachos and crammed it into his mouth. Normally, he wouldn’t eat so... cave-manish, but she seemed to be more at ease and that had to be a point in his favor.

  She giggled, and the sound made his heart flip in his chest. “Whatever. Men like you can wear anything and look good.”

  “Really?”

  Nodding happily, she began to munch on a potato skin. “Yeah, Prince Charming doesn’t need to worry about calories. Besides, don’t you run eight miles a day before work?”

  “I do, but how do you know that?”

  “Maybe I’ve been snooping.”

  Rather shocked at her sudden change in attitude, he began to study her. “Why is that?”

  “Come closer and I’ll tell you,” she said with a secretive smile.

  He leaned in, and the smell of vodka hit him. The damned woman was drunk, or nearly there. “Have you been drinking?”

  “Three shots before I went out the door,” she chirped, and then she began to whisper. “I’m not a big drinker, but I don’t think they’re working.”

  Blake didn’t know whether to laugh or be furious with her, but what he did know—she lifted the bottle of beer to her lips, and he plucked it out of her hand—she needed to get more food in her stomach.

  “Hey!”

  “Drink the cherry cokes, love, before they go flat.”

  She pushed out her bottom lip in a pout, and it was all he could do to keep from biting that lip. Tempting witch. “Fine.”

  “And have a bit more to eat.” He attempted to feed her, but she grabbed his hand and bit his finger. “Ouch!”

  “Sorry, thought you were my food.”

  “Do you know who I am?” This had to be a joke of some sort. Even though Ella was clearly drunk, the liquor having finally made its appearance, she wouldn’t be so flirty with him.

  “Blake York. Hot. British. Single.”

  Well, that put that theory to rest. “Is that how you think of me?”

  “That’s how alllll the ladies think of you. Oh, and Dave in Marketing.”

  He didn’t give a damn about what all the ladies and Dave thought of him. He wanted her opinion and wanted the liquored-up truth of it. “What about Ella?”

  “Ella. Me.” She snorted. “You don’t even like me anymore.”

  “I like you right now,” he said softly.

  She blinked at him. “I like you right now too.”

  “What about tomorrow? Will you like me tomorrow?”

  Her face turned solemn. “Only in the deepest part of me.”

  “What about Drew?” he asked lightly, wondering if she still longed for a man she couldn’t have.

  “He likes you all the time.”

  He laughed. “Yes, but what does Ella think of Drew?”

  “I think that—”

  George arrived once more, and Blake wanted to throw the man out. She’d been so close to revealing how she felt. Damn it.

  “I brought these straight off the grill.”

  Blake sat up and helped Ella do the same. “I do hope this bit of home I brought to paradise makes you happy. Perhaps you’ll consider it an olive branch of sorts.”

  George removed the cover with a flourish.

  “Grilled ham and cheese from Beechum’s Drugstore in Knight’s Way, South Carolina,” Blake said, his chest puffing up at the shocked look on her face. “It took bit of searching on Google to even find the blasted town, and a bit of—well, I won’t go into what I had to do to actually get the recipe—but here you go.” The woman who’d answered the phone had been very nice, but confusing, insisting the Simpsons had moved away years ago.

  Perhaps she meant Ella, and not her parents. He honestly didn’t know, and the woman’s accent was so thick that he could barely make out every other word.

  “I think the kitchen got it right.” He winked at George and grinned.

  George gave him a quick thumbs-up before clearing the table of the appetizers.

  Ella made a noise. He wasn’t sure if it was the sound of a cow dying or what, but it wasn’t a happy one. Suddenly, she slapped her hand over mouth, tears falling from her beautifully made-up eyes and making her mascara run.

  “What’s wrong?” Did she need to use the loo? Should he get a rubbish bin?

  She shook her head, not saying a word.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked, motioning for George to take the platter away. “I thought you would like the sandwiches. You actually sounded happy when you talked about Knight’s Way.”

  That only made her cry harder.

  Wisely, George left the room. Blake would be sure to tip the man well later tonight.

  Once the door closed behind the butler, Blake took a trembling Ella in his arms. “My darling girl, whatever is the matter?”

  She sniffed. “I’m such a fraud.”

  “You don’t like the sandwiches?”

  “Yes. No... I don’t know.” She sniffed again, snuggling against him while smearing his shirt with makeup... and other things, but he didn’t push her away. He’d dreamed of holding her like this for years.

  Only without the crying.

  Or her being drunk.

  Nude would have been good.

  Perhaps in bed.

  Shut it, York.

  “Why would you do something so nice for me?” she finally asked, lifting her tear-stained face.

  “Because I care about you,” he admitted. There. She knew the truth.

  Her lips made a perfect O. “Why? I’ve been nothing but mean to you for the past three years.”

  He brushed a damp strand of hair out of her face. “Perhaps it’s because I remember the woman who was nice to me six months before that.”

  “St
upid emails.”

  “No one knows, love.”

  “But you know.”

  “I’ve never told a soul.”

  “But you could have.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “I wouldn’t betray you.”

  She let out a groan. “I think I’m... I need to lie down.”

  So much for a romantic evening, he thought as he helped her to her feet.

  With Blake’s help, Ella found her way into bed, or maybe it was his bed. She honestly didn’t know, nor did she care. She was too dizzy and too emotionally wrung out.

  He’d had the kitchen make grilled ham and cheese for her. It was the only thing she could remember about her parents before they died. Actually, it was the best memory she had of them too.

  She’d been four, maybe five at the most, dancing around the kitchen with her momma while her daddy cooked.

  “Thank you. I didn’t mean to cry, but you surprised me,” she admitted as he took off her shoes. He undid her necklace and carefully placed it on the nightstand, then began to remove her earrings.

  Such an intimate act, without even removing her clothes.

  Blake’s eyes were so blue this close up, like the color of the ocean at dusk. “Never be afraid to be yourself with me, and never apologize for letting your feelings show.” He brushed a kiss against her forehead, but she tipped up her chin for more. He made a noise of dissent, but she insisted.

  “Please. I need... you.”

  Their lips met and she tasted him, her tongue licking the corner of his mouth. His tongue met hers. He tasted so sweet that her toes curled. He tasted better than cherry cokes.

  “Ella,” he whispered hoarsely. “You’re not... if you weren’t drunk, you wouldn’t be kissing me.”

  “So.”

  “I want you sober.”

  Their mouths met again, his body coming on top of hers. He was so large, so warm, and so male that she writhed against him. A low groan left his chest, and he pushed away from her. She grabbed for him, catching his shirt.

  “Ella, I can’t. We can’t. I promise you I want you, but not like this.”

  “Sleep with me? I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

  He gazed down at her, indecision playing across his face. “As long as my virtue is safe from you.”

  A helpless giggle/snort left her mouth. “Very safe.” Yes, she wanted him. Yes, she loved kissing him and feeling him... everything, but—she frowned.

  What had she been thinking about?

  The room spun, as did Blake.

  Closing her eyes, she let the darkness take her.

  Chapter Five

  Ella woke up the next morning with a start. Unfortunately, she couldn’t claim to have forgotten everything that had transpired the night before, so it was no shock to find Blake in bed with her.

  But the tender smile on his face was rather unexpected.

  “Does your head hurt?” he murmured in that sexy voice of his, his fingers light on her temple as they explored.

  “Not really,” she said. It didn’t. She hadn’t been that drunk. The three shots she had traveled through her system like lightning, making her giggly, talkative... and vulnerable.

  “That’s good.” His blue gaze turned serious. “Feel like eating? I can order room service.”

  “I’m not really hungry. More thirsty than anything,” she admitted.

  He turned to one side and then back to her, holding out a glass of water. As he tipped it up to her mouth, she drank greedily while he continued to hold it. “Better?” he asked several moments later.

  She nodded. “Thank you.”

  For whatever reason, she didn’t immediately move to get out of bed, and he obviously took that as a sign to inch closer to her. They were both still dressed, though without shoes—or jewelry.

  Her mouth quirked at the memory.

  “You are lovely in the morning.”

  Her eyes widened and for the life of her, she couldn’t think of a snappy comeback. “I am?”

  “Very.” Reaching over her, he set the glass on the nightstand, while she came face to face with his muscular chest. The scent of him, something woodsy and male, infused her nose. Despite herself, she breathed deeply.

  Her body pricked with awareness as he slid back again, his arm brushing her breasts. Her nipples hardened.

  She gasped.

  He froze, holding himself suspended above her. “Ella,” he said, dipping his head. “Last night, I think you wanted something more from me. This morning, I’m fully prepared to give it to you.”

  Swallowing another gasp, she gazed up at his face, and then into his intense blue eyes. They were full of desire. Her gaze dropped to his full lips, lips that she had kissed last night. Ones that tasted so good her toes had curled.

  She couldn’t remember the last time a kiss made her toes curl. Had her toes ever curled from a kiss? Maybe it was the shots of vodka... or the sweet gesture of him having all of her favorite things for dinner.

  “We don’t get along, Blake,” she reminded him.

  “Perhaps we can try to get along while we’re here.” He drew closer, his mouth a breath away.

  “What about the emails and your threat—”

  “Gone.” His gaze turned rueful. “I scrubbed them from the server after you deleted them from your folder, two years ago.”

  She blinked up at him. He’d lied to her, but then again, he’d never said he had them. Only taunted her with them, made her keep blaming him for her embarrassment over the choice she had made.

  “You did that, even after I was ugly to you?” It made no sense for him to do that.

  He smiled. “Yes.” Cupping her face, he said, “I knew why you hated me, or at least why you thought you did. I caught you at your most vulnerable, most embarrassing, and while it wasn’t well done of me, I kept playing the game with you. Otherwise, you would have never survived the last three years of Montgomery with other women. Or his impromptu wedding. And you sure as hell wouldn’t be able to function as a bloody bridesmaid for this proper wedding.”

  Anger rose, but just as quickly, it vanished. When she thought about the last three years of her life, Blake was always there. Always. In those rare moments, she had allowed herself to do more than tolerate late nights at work with him—she had enjoyed herself. Odd that she couldn’t remember a single woman in his life.

  “Blake, who... Did you have time for women?”

  “No,” he said. “I’ve only wanted one woman. The rest paled in comparison.”

  “You’ve been saving yourself?” she teased, but it was only halfhearted.

  His fingers coasted down her cheek. “Would that be so hard to believe?”

  “For a man to do that—yes.”

  “Not all men are created equal,” he said, and she rolled her eyes. He was right though.

  “Whoever she is, she’s lucky to have you.” It occurred to her that he was no longer saving himself if he was offering to give her what she wanted. “What happened to her?”

  He didn’t reply to that. At least, not with words. Instead, he brushed his lips across hers, tentatively at first, as if seeking her permission.

  She hesitated, even as desire and pleasure twined together.

  “What do you want, Ella?”

  “I want you,” she said. It was the truth. She’d been fighting against her attraction to him for years.

  Slowly, he began to remove her clothes. “I am going to take very good care of you, love,” he whispered, kissing the upper swells of her breasts. “So very good.”

  In one smooth movement, he unfastened the front of her bra, her breasts spilling into his large hands. Her nipples puckered against his palms as he pushed her breasts together and began to kiss them.

  While he drove her crazy with his kisses and licks, she attempted to get him out of his clothes. Buttons flew, material ripped, and, at one point, she had to shove his trousers down with her feet.

  They laughed, came together in hot kisses, and
caressed one another until all that Ella could hear was the sound of her heart. He kissed her hard. It consumed her, made her want to devour him back.

  Somehow, he produced a condom, rolling it down over his thick erection before pulling her into his arms again.

  She wrapped her legs around his hips, moving slowly against him until she heard him groan. He grabbed her hips, forcing her to stop.

  “Ride me,” he said into her mouth. “Own me.”

  He rolled her on top of him, his hands going to her hips. She rose up on her knees, grasped his cock, and slowly began to sink down. As soon as the head breached her, they both let out hoarse groans.

  His grip tightened, as if he were fighting for control. “It’s been four years for me, Ella, but I swear I’ll,” he slid in deeper, “holy fuck, baby.”

  She bent down and his hips jerked up, sending him fully inside. Gasping at the sweet pain, she began to move.

  Letting go of her hips, he ran his hands up and down her back as if he couldn’t get enough of touching her. His palms came around her rib cage, and then slid back up to cup her breasts. He rolled her nipples between his fingers and lifted his head, sucking them into his mouth.

  She cried out.

  He sat up and pushed her down on the bed, barely leaving her for a second before he thrust back inside.

  “You feel so damned good. I knew you would,” he said, bracing his body on his elbows. He leaned down, fusing his mouth to hers as he moved in hard thrusts that made her hotter. Wetter.

  With every movement, her swollen clit brushed against his groin, sending her higher and higher. He grabbed one of her thighs, hooking it over his arm and opening her wider.

  “Deeper. More. Now.”

  “Hell, yes,” he breathed.

  Grabbing the headboard, he shoved his cock into her again and again, until she screamed his name and he roared hers. He didn’t stop moving and neither did she until every last bit of her orgasm left her.

  Gulping for air, she pushed back her slightly damp hair from her face. He smiled down at her, his gaze tender.

  “You are amazing,” he said, kissing her.

  Suddenly shy, she looked away, but he gently grabbed her chin and turned her to him. “Don’t be that way. What happened between us will never leave this room, or this resort for that matter. You have my word.”