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Seducing the Billionaire's Daughter (The Montgomerys Book 3) Page 3
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He smirked. “Not a chance.”
Briefly, she wondered if the opposite were true, and since she wasn’t one for mincing words, she asked, ”And if he didn’t care?”
The stranger dipped his head, his lips nearly touching her ear and making her shiver. “I wouldn’t let go of you until you ordered me to.”
She licked her lips, looking into his sexy blue eyes. “My date doesn’t care.”
“Do you want me to let you go?” He pulled her in closer, until her body was flush with his and she could feel the heat from his body emanating from his tux. He was hard, muscles bulging in all the right places beneath his jacket.
“No.” She breathed in his scent, all masculine… all intoxicating with the barest hint of cologne. “Unless…” Oh gosh. She really hoped she was wrong. “Did my dad send you to dance with me?”
“I don’t think anyone’s dad would ever send me to dance with their daughter.”
“So you have no idea who I am.”
“’Fraid not.”
She gave him a brilliant smile. “Excellent.”
“You’re happy that I don’t know you,” he said, giving her an odd look.
“It means that you’re here with me because you want to be, not because you think you should be.”
“In my case, both are true. I want to be here and I should be here, with you in my arms, while we dance.”
Swoon. Was he real? “And why is that?”
“Just a feeling I had about you,” he murmured.
“What if the feeling wasn’t returned?”
“Then we wouldn’t be talking right now.”
Touché. “What if I were too polite to say no?”
“You’re don’t strike me as the doormat type.”
“Being polite means a person is a doormat?”
“If it’s at the cost of their value system or personal safety, absolutely. There’s nothing inherently polite about the word yes or inherently impolite about the word no. They are simply choices to be made, based on the best information at hand.”
“I had no idea that our conversation while dancing would take this serious of a turn.” She smiled up at him. “I’d ask your thoughts on southern manners versus manipulative niceness, but I’m afraid that you’ll pigeonhole me.”
He cocked his head to one side. “Yankee prejudice would cloud my judgment, huh?”
“You’re a Yankee?” she asked and widened her eyes innocently. “ I had no idea, sir.”
“The lack of drawn out vowels should have been your first clue.”
“But your manners are divine,” she replied in an over exaggerated drawl that would make any North Carolinian cringe. “Kidding! Seriously though, tell me about yourself.”
He paused, studying her face, as if trying to figure out if she were serious or not, or maybe he wasn’t sure what to do with such a direct request. Yeah, she wasn’t the best at flirting, but she did the best she could with what she had.
“Grew up in New Jersey. Single mom raised me. Former military.”
That had to explain the hands and his build. He wasn’t a banker who sat at a desk all day. “Thank you for your service.”
He grew visibly uncomfortable, swallowing hard. “You don’t have to thank me.”
“I won’t bring it up again,” she said.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said and exhaled. “I just don’t like being thanked for doing my job. That’s my problem, not yours.”
“I get it,” She tilted her head to one side, reconsidering her statement. “I mean, I don’t exactly get it because I haven’t been in your shoes, but I can see why you’d feel that way and respect it.” She cleared her throat. “Are you close to your mom?”
“Yes. She’s the strongest person I know. Worked her fingers to the bone to raise me.”
She smiled softly. “I was close to mine, too.”
“Was?”
“She passed when I was thirteen. She lost her battle with breast cancer.”
His vibrant blue eyes grew dim. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thank you.” She shook her head. “Wow. That went in a direction I didn’t expect.”
“Ask me something else. Anything, but make it a little more fun this time.” He winked at her and then spun her around, before pulling her back in.
“Anything, huh?”
“I’m not easily offended.” He tilted his head to the side. “Actually, I’m rarely offended.”
“I’m thinking. I’m thinking.” She grinned as her question came to mind. “Growing up, were you the bad boy type?”
“ I was. Eventually, I grew out of it. Mostly.” He shrugged even as a mischievous smile slid on his face. “What about you?”
“I’m the youngest and only girl. What do you think?” She winked at him, feeling way more confident than she should with a man she’d never met before.
“That you can be a master manipulator to get your way. In fact, I bet you batted those gorgeous eyes of yours, and they fell all over themselves to do your bidding.”
“More like they put me in a suitcase once and sent me down the stairs in it, shouting that I was a special delivery.”
He considered her words for a moment. “You asked them to do it.”
She grinned. “Guilty. I saw them taking turns and didn’t want to be left out. What about you? Siblings?”
“A couple, but I’m not close to them. We didn’t grow up together.” A shadow passed over his face, but as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. “I hope that changes.”
Her heart went out to him. “I hope it does, too. Family is everything to me, so if you can reconcile your difference, you’ll be so much better for it.”
The song ended, but her dance partner didn’t relinquish his hold on her. They stood there, swaying to the melody that only existed in their heads.
“Everyone is staring at us,” she whispered.
“Let them.” But his actions contradicted his words when he escorted her off the dance floor.
She didn’t let go of his hand. Instead she smiled and said, “I’d like to get some fresh air. Will you join me?”
“Far be it from me to deny the lady.” He walked with her outside, through a copse of trees with fairy lights twined in their branches.
Fragrant flowers in shades of rose and gold lined the path. Underneath the starry sky, the garden terrace felt enchanted.
“Are you here to be seen or to actually support my—“ she paused, unwilling to reveal her last name. He didn’t seem to know who she was or who she was related to, and she wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. “one of my favorite charities.”
“I think if you’re going to continue to ask such personal questions that we should exchange names at least,” he said and her heart stuttered. He led her to a bench and indicated she should sit, then joined her.
“Um...”
“First names,” he amended.
“Oh, well, you first.”
“Sawyer.”
“That’s a great name.” She gathered the wispy material of her pink and white skirt in her fists.
“Do I make you nervous?” he asked, brushing a thick strand of hair off of her shoulder.
“A little,” she admitted as her skin prickled with awareness. “But in a good way.”
He scooted closer to her, until his thigh was firmly against hers. “Don’t be nervous. I’m mostly a gentleman.”
She burst out laughing. “Mostly?”
He cupped the side of her face. “I don’t think a gentleman would kiss a woman without knowing her name first, so there’s that.”
She turned into his touch. “Why can’t a gentleman be bold, especially if the woman wants him to kiss her, without the weight of her name between them?”
He didn’t answer her with words. Oh no. He brushed his lips against hers, so gently that she thought she imagined it. Her eyes fluttered shut and her hands reached out to touch him, one landing on his rock hard thigh and
the other on his shoulder. While she wanted to touch his chest, she didn’t want him to think that she was pushing him away.
“Another kiss?” he asked
She nodded. “A billion more.”
He kissed her again, taking possession of her mouth while encouraging her to kiss him back. He slid his lips along hers, his tongue tracing the corners until she parted her lips. She fully expected him to deepen the kiss, fully expected he would take control and not learn what she liked.
London couldn’t have been more wrong.
Sawyer was a tease, a pure tease, and drove her mad as he nipped and sucked, and placed rather chaste kisses while she hungered for more. She sat up taller, moving her hands so that she could sink her fingers into his hair. His light brown hair was like thick, heated silk against her skin. He all but made a purring sound as her nails lightly scraped his scalp.
She grew restless as time passed, as he kissed her and stroked her back, finally holding her against him with his hands on her waist.
Another pass of his lips and she simply went for it, and deepened their kiss, tangling her tongue with his until she was breathing his air. He pulled away and looked at her, simply looked at her like he’d never seen another woman before.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. Her lips felt swollen, bee-stung, and her skin slightly raw. It was the best feeling she’d had in a very long time.
“I still don’t know your name.”
“London…. London M—“
“No.” He pressed a finger against her lips. “ Last names would ruin this moment.”
She kissed his fingertip and leaned against him, his arms coming around her. A dreamy sigh floated from her lips. This moment was so perfect. He was perfect. “Nothing could ruin our moment.”
“Get your fucking hands off my little sister, Taggart,” Drew snarled from behind her.
London’s gaze flew to Sawyer’s, her heart lodged in her heart. She swallowed hard. “You’re a Taggart?”
4
Sawyer
“Answer me, Sawyer,” the beautiful woman in his arms demanded. She looked devastated by the news. “Are you a Taggart?”
“Not by choice.”
Her emerald green eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Sawyer kept one eye on London’s brother as he strode their way, his face dark, his jaw clenched. “It means that you shouldn’t judge me by my last name.”
London moved away from him and then stood, uncertainty replacing the betrayal on her face. “Did you know who I was the entire time?”
“London, get inside,” Drew ordered as he moved past her. “What the hell Taggart?”
Sawyer stood, looking the current CEO of his family’s biggest competitor, Andrew Montgomery in the eye. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”
Montgomery cast his gaze on his sister. “Are you okay?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
“Because he’s a Taggart.”
“And?”
Was London defending him?
“His dad’s a womanizing asshole.”
“You used to be a womanizing asshole. Does that mean you’ll hurt Hannah?”
“Who’s Hannah?” Sawyer asked.
“Shut up,” Montgomery growl. “This is between my and me.”
“Hannah is his wife,” London said, then turned her attention back to her brother. “Well?”
“No,” Drew said slowly. “But I’ve proven to her that I’m no longer those things.”
“Then why can’t Sawyer prove to be the opposite of his dad?” London pressed. “Why would you punish him for the sins of his father?”
Sawyer smirked. “She has a point.”
London rounded on him. “Don’t think you’re off the hook, mister.”
He loved the fire in her eyes, the pinkness in her cheeks. The way her breasts rose and fell as she stood her ground. “I’ll be waiting.”
“Then you’ll be hurting,” Drew said.
“Go inside, Drew.” She gave her brother a push. “I can make my own decisions, especially now that I have all the information at hand.”
Ouch. She really was a good listener.
“He’s only sniffing around you because he wants inside information. They came for Synergy and nearly drove them into the ground. MI is their next target.”
“Then it wouldn’t make any sense to go after the one Montgomery who doesn’t work and has never worked at MI,” London pointed out. “Plus, he didn’t ask me anything about work.”
“That’s because he was biding his time.”
“I can’t with you right now.” She groaned. “Go inside. I love you. I’m fine. Please leave.”
Andrew glared at Sawyer with pure malice in his eyes before nodding. “If I have to come out here again, I’m bringing security with me.”
Sawyer reached into his jacket and pulled the invitation to the spring ball out of his pocket. “I’m an invited guest.”
“Not by me.”
“Maybe Connor invited him.”
“Maybe he did.” Sawyer grinned at the stunned look on both their faces. “Last minute RSVP.”
Andrew’s eyes widened. “Son of a bitch.” He stomped off. “You have ten minutes, London.”
She rolled her eyes. “Brothers. Can’t live with them… can’t commit fratricide without going to jail.”
He took a step toward her and she took a step back, then blew out a breath. “What do you want?” she asked. She was agitated, unsure of his intentions, yet confident in ways that took his breath away when she simply got to the point.
“The chance to continue to get to know you.”
“Because I’m a Montgomery.”
He shook his head slowly. “I had no idea who you were until your brother interrupted us.”
She gave him a skeptical look. “Really? Why should I believe that?”
“Why should I lie?” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’ve been pretty damn honest with you, don’t you think.”
She nodded once.
“And like you said, I didn’t ask about MI,” he pointed out.
“Do you work for your dad?” she asked.
“No.”
“Oh,” she said, her face brightening. “Then—?“
“I plan to take what’s rightfully mine and have John Taggart take an early retirement,” he said bluntly.
Her pretty eyes widened. “How?”
He wasn’t about to share that part of his plan with her and not only because her last was Montgomery. “We’re meeting next week to discuss specifics.”
“That’s… good?” She took a step closer to him, then another until she was almost past him. “So nice to meet you. Best of luck.”
He grabbed her arm. Her skin was smooth, warm, and soft. “I want to see you again.”
“That’s not a good idea.” She pulled her arm out of his grasp. “Our relationship would be a conflict of interest.”
He grinned.
“Why are you smiling?” she asked.
“It’s only a conflict of interest if you actually worked for MI. I’ve taken a look at their employee directory and you’re not on it.”
Her jaw dropped, then she snapped it shut. “Actually, I’ve recently taken a job as the new head of human resources.”
“When do you start?” he asked, undeterred by her lie. He wouldn’t call her out for it, though. For one, she couldn’t lie for shit. Two, he didn’t want her to tell him to kiss her ass and walk away.
“Tomorrow.”
“Great. I’ll stop by to take you out to lunch. My treat.”
Her face turned red. “I’ll be working remotely from Raleigh,” she all but croaked.
“On your first day?” he asked, thoroughly amused. She planned on running a business and working full-time for MI? Something didn’t add up and he was betting that it was the bit about working full-time for her family’s business.
“Yup, and every day after that.”r />
He leaned in, the scent of wildflowers drifting to him. She was so close now, so close that he could kiss her again, but he wouldn’t. Not until she asked. London would ask him again. That he was certain of. “Then it’s a damn good thing that I live in Raleigh, too.”
“B-but your dad’s company is headquartered in Charlotte. How can you take over, if you live here?”
He smirked. “Remotely.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Very funny.”
“I’m fucking hilarious.”
The corners of her mouth twitched. “That may be, but you’ll have to save that hilarity for another woman. Thanks for the dance.” She whirled away, her full skirts hitting his legs and knocking over a pot of flowers.
“But not the kiss?” he called after her.
She didn’t stop, didn’t acknowledge that he’d spoken to her at all, and for that, he admired her self-control. Personally, he would have told himself off or at the very least given himself the finger.
After he made sure that London was with her brothers, he left the ball, texting his driver that he didn’t need his services for the rest of the evening. The night was still young, and he didn’t mind walking from the downtown mansion turned event center to the apartment building he’d recently bought and revitalized.
He let himself inside the private entrance that led to a private elevator he had installed separately from the main lobby. Its only function was to take him to and from the top floor. The rest of the building had dedicated space for offices and retailers—one of which was a favorite local coffeehouse he’d enticed to move there. He loved the coffee and he loved their hiring practices. Their employees were all special needs teens and adults.
As the elevator rushed to the penthouse, he didn’t bother to try to push London out of his mind. Hell, he wanted her firmly front and center. He had to know everything about her, down to the way she liked her coffee in the morning.
The door opened with a soft whoosh and he moved to the living room, his shoes barely making a sound against the dark hardwood floors. Although he was nearly six foot five, he knew how to tread lightly. Surviving special missions tended to do that to a man, then again, treading lightly wasn’t a guarantee either.
He went to the bar and poured himself a glass of whiskey over crushed ice. While he enjoyed the smooth burn of the liquor, he wandered over to his sofa and sat down, then grabbed his laptop from the coffee table.