Matchless Millionaires: An Improper Affair

“You’re welcome.”

She glanced out the window. “I just noticed. There’s a full moon.”

He stood beside her and peered out. “So there is. How about that?”

He glanced down at her and was struck anew with the urge to kiss her.

At the same time, she turned to look up at him, her eyes shadowed.

Slowly, he raised his hands to cup her shoulders and turn her to face him fully. Then he lowered his head and brushed her lips.

She sighed against his mouth and he took the kiss deeper, taking the edge off a hunger that dinner had done nothing to sate.

Eventually, his lips drifted away from her lips to explore the delicate shell of her ear and the hollows of her throat.

She swayed into him and sighed again, her arms locking around his neck.

Finally, however, and with difficulty, he raised his head. With Kelly, he’d have to go slow. He took a deep, head-clearing breath and asked, “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Tomorrow was Sunday, and he knew Distressed Success would be closed.

“I’ll be at the lodge,” she replied huskily.

“Working.” “Good.”

He had a surprise for her and, fortunately, the weather for tomorrow called for sunny skies and a clear view.

“I should be working. This is crazy.” Kelly pulled loose strands of hair away from her face in a futile battle with the wind.

Though she had her hair tied back in a ponytail, she knew she’d be struggling to get out knots later on.

Ryan grinned in response to her words, his hair whipped by the wind.

He stood by the sails of the boat, and Kelly thought she’d never seen him so carefree. She could well imagine how he might have been a pirate in another life.

She’d shown up early this morning at the lodge because it was Sunday and she didn’t have to be in the shop today. She’d intended to put in a full day’s work, setting up additional furnishings that had been previously delivered.

Ryan, however, had had other plans. After they’d worked for three hours, he’d taken the vase she’d been holding and announced they were playing hooky for the rest of the day.

It turned out he’d already had a picnic basket packed and, what’s more, he’d rented a sailboat.

She had taken one look outside at the glorious weather and had found it impossible to resist.

Now here they were on the vastness of Lake Tahoe—blue skies overhead accentuated by the occasional lazy puffy white cloud, wavy aqua waters below dotted by the occasional watercraft.

Ryan had rented a sloop, which had a single mast and two sails. Because she’d been on a sailboat just once before in her life, Ryan had taught her the basics of trimming the sails and handling the helm before they’d left the dock.

Once they’d gotten under way, however, Ryan had done most of the work. Except for handling the helm when Ryan trimmed the sails, she was able to sit and enjoy the ride.

“Where did you learn to sail?” she called to him now. Then before he could answer, she added, “No, wait. Let me guess. You took Sailing 101 at prep school.”

He flashed a grin. “Good guess, but in fact, I learned to sail right here on Lake Tahoe. It’s a place where we vacationed when I was younger.”

He’d been to Tahoe regularly?

She tilted her head. “That first day at Distressed Success, you acted as if you were unfamiliar with the area. You asked me where you could find a good meal—“

“I was hitting on you.”

A tremor of sexual awareness ran through her as something indefinable, but palpable and strong, passed between them.

Silhouetted against the blue sky, he was breath-takingly handsome. He wore khaki pants and a polo shirt paired with a windbreaker and reflective sunglasses. He looked as if he could have been in an ad for Ralph Lauren.

She hadn’t known they’d go sailing, but she was glad now that she put on pants and espadrilles that morning. A windbreaker that they’d found for her at the lodge protected her from cold and damp.

As Ryan again busied himself with the sails, she reflected on the events of the weekend. She hadn’t intended to reveal so much during their meal at Clearwater’s. Still, she could understand Ryan’s anger better now, as well as identify with it since Brenda, like Webb, hadn’t been the most responsible parent in the world.

Finished with what he was doing, Ryan came toward her and jumped down to where she sat. “Time for lunch. I’m famished.”

She laughed. “I can’t believe you prepared a whole picnic basket!”

He grinned slyly. “Gourmet everything … courtesy of the concierge service at one of Tahoe’s poshest nouveau places.”

Eight

Kelly found that the next week passed in a blur of work, decorating and, above all, Ryan and more Ryan.

By the following weekend, she realized somewhat surprisingly that her work at the lodge was nearly done. She also knew she couldn’t have done it without Ryan’s help.

She hadn’t heard anything more from Webb Sperling, but she pushed the thought aside.

She had time, she told herself. Deep down, though, she knew she didn’t want to upset her newfound accord with Ryan.

As she prepared to leave the lodge late that Sunday afternoon, Ryan surprised her by saying, “Why don’t you come on in? We’ll sit on the deck and watch the sunset.”

“I should be getting back.” The words flew out of her mouth in automatic response.

“Why?” he asked bluntly. “We both know Distressed Success is closed on Mondays.” He smiled. “In fact, since you’ll want to be working here tomorrow, it makes sense for you to stay the night.”

She felt a strange fluttering sensation in her stomach, then caught the teasing glimmer in his eyes.

“After all,” he drawled, “you’re already familiar with the guest bedroom.”

She held her palms up. “I didn’t bring any clothes—“

His smile widened. “Do you really want to hear my solution to that problem?”

She felt herself heat in response. She still wasn’t used to his teasing.