Carter Reed 2 - Page 3/77

“Hi.”

“Hi, yourself.” He was dressed in custom-tailored pants and a black button-down shirt, which was wrinkled and untucked with the top two buttons undone. The collar looked like he’d stretched it out, and damn, with his dark blond hair cut short, his wolf-like blue eyes, and his sharp cheekbones, Carter managed to look restless, on edge, and sophisticated all at once.

He knelt at the edge of the tub. “Did you have a good night?”

“You weren’t here when I came home.” I hadn’t meant it to sound like an accusation, but it slipped out that way.

A smile crossed his lips, and he dipped a hand into the water, stirring it in a slow motion. “I got news today, and I had to go and see for myself.”

My heart paused. Bad news? It didn’t sound good. “What kind of news?”

“News that…” He hesitated, the smile slipping. “…might change a lot of things.”

“There’s a man watching you.” Theresa’s words came back to me, along with the other shout. “Miss Nathans!” I bit down on my lip and asked, “Is it news I should know about?”

A flicker of darker emotion crossed his features before he clamped it down. Lifting his hand to my leg, he moved his fingers in a slow caress, up and down. Just that slight touch and I began to have a hard time breathing. I glanced down, mesmerized by his fingers. Water slid down my skin from his hand. When it stopped, he dipped down and lifted the water once more to my leg. I had to pull my gaze from that vision and lift it back to his face.

His eyes were tortured, but when my gaze caught his, that look vanished right away and he murmured, “You should, but I don’t know if I can tell you.” His eyebrows bunched, and he shook his head, becoming unreadable once again. Then he slid his hands underneath me in the tub. He stood, lifting me with him, out of the water. Instead of grabbing a towel, he walked me back into the bedroom and placed me onto the desk in one corner. I could see us in the mirror across the room.

He leaned close, his head moving to the crook of my shoulder and neck, and he held me. His shirt stretched tight over his back, outlining his broad shoulders and tapered waistline. My arms had wrapped around his neck, and I slid one down the middle of his back. He sucked in his breath under my touch.

He murmured against my skin, “Why is it that your presence can calm me? Your touch can make me alive, and one little sigh from you makes me want to sleep for days in your embrace?”

I smiled, moving to press a kiss to his ear. “Because you love me.”

He pulled back, his eyes meeting mine with only a few centimeters between us. His forehead rested on mine, then one of his hands cupped the side of my face. His thumb brushed over my cheek and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. “I need to tell you what happened today, because it could affect us.”

He was torn. I could tell.

He added, “But not yet.”

Leaning back, I put my hands on his face and made sure he was looking right into my eyes. “Whatever it is, we’ll be fine,” I told him. And I believed that. “We’ve been through too goddamn much.”

“I know.”

I tilted my head. This wasn’t the Carter I knew. He took care of everything. He had declared war for me, and I knew he’d do it again. “Should I be worried?”

That same tortured look came to his eyes, but he said, “No.” Pulling me back into his arms, he nudged my legs farther apart, moving closer, and pressed his lips to the underside of my jaw. He whispered, “Never.” Another kiss to the corner of my lips. “Ever.” A third kiss, his lips resting atop mine and he murmured, “I promise. Nothing will ever happen to you.”

“To us.” My hands gripped his shoulders.

“To us,” he said.

Then his lips opened, and he took over, a command in his kiss. “Forget I said anything.”

With those words, he leaned me backward against the wall and kissed his way down my throat, over my chest, and all the way to my waist as his hands gripped my hips, holding me firmly on the desk. There he paused, and I arched my back, already knowing where he was going.

His tongue swept over me, and my hands went to his shoulders, holding on blindly. When he moved farther down, a deep, guttural groan came from within me.

My god.

I loved this man.

When my phone buzzed, I wasn’t sleeping, only holding Emma as she did. She’d curled into me, still naked, and I looked over at my phone. I was tempted to ignore it. I knew who was on the other end.

It was Gene, my old mentor from the Mauricio family. He’d been a pain in my ass then, and I knew he would be again. Unlike most of my men and the rest of the family, Gene didn’t adhere to my wishes for privacy. When he wanted to talk, he called. When he wanted a meeting, he demanded one. We had butted heads on more than one occasion, and I’d threatened him with bodily harm another time when he’d made his dislike for Emma too known.

He was calling now, and I didn’t want to hear whatever he had to say. I needed to protect Emma, no matter what happened, and I pulled her tighter into my arms as that damn phone beeped again.

It would keep going. He wouldn’t stop calling.

I let out a curse before I disentangled myself from her and slipped from the bed. Grabbing my phone, I pulled on some sweats and headed down to my office. Once I was there, I held the phone to my ear and went straight for the liquor cabinet.

Pouring myself some bourbon, I answered. “Gene, you are interrupting.”