Private Sessions

Caleb found himself crossing the room to be nearer to her. The musky scent of her perfume filled his senses. He dragged his gaze away from her mouth up to her eyes and then crossed his arms over his chest, as much to keep from touching her as to maintain the distance he wasn’t sure why he suddenly required. “Why did you choose me, Miss Metaxas?”

She was clearly as aware of him as he was of her … and thrown by his close proximity. He watched her elegant throat work around a swallow. “I don’t understand?”

“Why didn’t you go straight to Philippidis himself?”

Her smile was soft, tinged with a bit of wryness. “I thought my chances of putting together something with you were better, considering the circumstances.” She took in the width of his shoulders, his height. “I mean, you’re an independent consultant, right? While you’re associated with Philippidis, you’re not his employee.” She shrugged, the action looking anything but nonchalant. “We can’t sell Philippidis, but perhaps we—you and I—can work together to sell the idea to someone else.”

He liked her confidence … her awareness of herself as a woman. And he admired her poise; obviously she’d put a lot of thought into her approach, even though she knew the chances of him taking her up on her offer were remote.

He picked up the folders, glanced at the top one, then held them out to her.

“While flattered, Miss Metaxas, I’m afraid I’m not interested.”

Inaccurate to the nth degree. The problem lay in that he was very interested in her … only on a much more personal level.

She hesitantly took the proposals, but the look in her eyes told him that she saw him; possibly saw right through him.

Caleb cocked a brow.

“Are you sure there isn’t … something I can do to persuade you differently….” she asked quietly, leadingly.

He’d been playing the man v. woman game for long enough that he understood some had the killer instinct, were born with a natural understanding of basic human need and how to bend it to their advantage, and some didn’t.

Sexy Miss Bryna Metaxas had been born with it. She might not understand exactly how best to use it, but she knew enough to make her very enticing, indeed.

He smiled. “I’m sure.”

He drew closer to her, estimating that he had a good five inches on her and years of experience. While she demonstrated good instinctive skills, she was no match for him in any department.

Why, then, did he want to see just how much of challenge she’d present?

He was a breath away from her. She didn’t blink. Didn’t move. Didn’t indicate one way or another if he intimidated her. To the contrary, she appeared equally as enthralled by the chemistry that existed between them.

“I feel it only fair to tell you that this won’t be the last you hear from me,” she said so quietly it was nearly a whisper.

Caleb’s gaze slid over her face, taking in the hint of heated color and her decadent mouth before returning to her eyes.

“I certainly hope not, Miss Metaxas.”

He watched as she gave him one last smile and then turned to leave. He stood for long moments after the door closed behind her.

Fascinating.

He walked back behind his desk and picked up the phone to ask his secretary to place a call for him. Then noticed that the sly bird had left the proposals on his desk despite his handing them back to her.

He grinned, giving her points for moxie.

And scoring her highly across the board….

3

BRYNA SAT IN HER CAR in the parking lot of Metaxas Limited. Despite the routine forty-five-minute drive from the city back to Earnest, she felt oddly shaken, as if she’d just escaped being run down by a speeding car … and she wanted to step right back into its path.

She’d heard that Caleb Payne was not a man to fool around with. And when their paths had crossed before she’d certainly seen firsthand that he could be darkly suggestive. But this morning … wow. She couldn’t have been more affected by him had he lit a flamethrower and aimed it in her direction. Even now her skin tingled and her panties were damp from their brief face-to-face. Oh, his words may have been straightforward and dismissive. But his dark eyes had held wicked invitation. One that she found she wanted to take him up on, despite all the bells and whistles going off warning her against just that.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t a good idea to be entertaining thoughts of seducing the man she wanted to help pull Metaxas Limited back from the brink. If she were being honest, it was a very bad idea. She’d never mixed business with pleasure before and now, with the stakes as high as they were, she shouldn’t even be thinking about it.

Which was probably part of the reason she was.

Her younger cousin Ari had once told her that she had a dangerous streak to her. Opting to date the bad boys over the good. Taking imprudent risks with her job that found her struggling for acceptance and advancement.

She closed her eyes tightly, both hands gripping the steering wheel, and took a deep breath.

Go away, go away, go away, she ordered the image of Caleb Payne etched into the back of her eyelids.

A knock on her window caused her to knock her head against the roof of her late-model Mustang GT. Which was no less than she deserved, she thought wryly as she stared out at Ari standing next to her car.

She slid the keys from the ignition and opened the door too fast, hitting his legs.

“Ow.” Ari chuckled as he stepped back. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Bryna pushed the door lock on her key fob twice, engaging the alarm. “That’s why you knocked on the window and gave me a robin’s egg on my head.”

“A robin’s egg?” He lifted his hand to touch her hair and she playfully batted it out of the way.

“Don’t you dare.”

His grin was one-hundred-percent pure Ari.

When it came to the charm and looks departments, it was joked within the family that Ari Metaxas had hit the genetic lottery. If he smiled at you, you were required to smile back. It was as simple as that.

That it had been that same irresistible charm that had landed the company in trouble wasn’t surprising.

“Where you coming back from?” Ari asked as they walked toward the offices.

“I should be asking you the same thing.”

“I asked you first.”

“So you did.” Abruptly, Bryna had a hard time remembering her excuse for being away from the office.

She absently rubbed at the bump on her head and then remembered. A hair appointment. Yes, that was it.

“Salon,” she told him. “And you?”

“Lunch with my fiancée.”

Bryna tried not to let her feelings register in a visual way, but Ari must have caught her frown.

“Uh-oh,” he said quietly, his smile vanishing. “Are you still having trouble accepting that Elena and I are together?”

Bryna opened the door for him. “Did I say anything?”

“You didn’t have to. It’s written all over your face.”

All right. So she might have to forgive her cousin for his tawdry behavior. It was an unwritten rule in the familial contract. But the woman at least half—if not fully—responsible for what had happened a month ago in Greece … well, it didn’t say anywhere that she couldn’t hold a grudge against her for life.

“She’s carrying my child. Your niece or nephew.”

Bryna softened. He hadn’t said second cousin, which was actually what would be the case. But niece or nephew. Her heart expanded with fondness.

This was exactly the reason it was easy to forgive Ari’s charming little heart.

“How’d the doctor’s appointment go?” she asked.

Ari’s grin made a bouncing comeback. “I heard the baby’s heartbeat. It has to be the second-best thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“Second?”

“Elena’s soft sighs are the first.”

Bryna held up her hand palm out. “TMI.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Bry.”

They climbed the steps to the second floor of the old mill offices and walked down the narrow hallway. “Who says my mind’s in the gutter?”

She would. Ever since the meeting with Caleb.

“TMI includes mushy sweet moments, as well.”

“Ah, I get it.”

She walked through the open doorway to her office and then turned toward him. “Don’t you have some work to do?”

He slid his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants, his crisp, navy blazer draping back in a way that made him look as if he’d just stepped from a Calvin Klein ad.

He opened his mouth to say something and she closed her door in his face, staring at him through the glass.

He laughed and shook his head, continuing on down the hall toward his own office.

Bryna placed her briefcase on her desk, then opened the door again, looking up and down the hallway. She didn’t see one of the dozen people who worked there.

Good. She needed a few moments to herself to get her thoughts together.

And to scheme exactly how she was going to sneak a meeting with Caleb Payne again … one that might include indulging in the vivid fantasies that were forming in her mind at the mere idea of acting on the intense attraction that existed between them….

AS MUCH A LONER AS HE WAS, he hated eating alone.

Caleb lingered in his office after five o’clock that Friday, checking his watch and thinking about whom he could invite to dinner at such a late hour. Someone who wouldn’t expect anything beyond a good meal. He wasn’t up to anything more.

He had a couple of male colleagues he could call, but both were married. And while the thought of eating alone didn’t please him, less appealing was dining solo at a couple’s house. Especially a young couple convinced they were in love.

“Mr. Payne?”

His secretary opened the door after briefly knocking.

“I have the New York attorney for you on line one.”

Caleb looked at his watch. That would make it after 8:00 p.m. eastern time. Which was pretty much par for the course for their conversations. He didn’t hire anyone who wasn’t two hundred percent committed to their careers.

“Thank you, Nancy. Any word yet on Manolis?”

Philippidis had been avoiding his calls all day.

“No, sir. I’m still trying.”

“Thank you.”

She left the office, closing the door behind her. He turned his attention to the waiting call from his personal attorney.

How long had this case been dragging on? Two years? And the last time he checked, it was no closer to being resolved than when he originally brought the suit.

Of course, the unusual nature of his petition was partly responsible. Most courts didn’t know what to do with a thirty-two-year-old man’s request to force a DNA test. Especially when the parent in question was deceased.

“Harry,” Caleb said, picking up the extension.

“Caleb.”

He sat back in the chair and closed his eyes; he could tell by the sound of the attorney’s voice that this wasn’t going to be good.

“I’ve received an offer.”

He listened as an amount in the mid-seven digits was named.

“Are you still there?” Harry asked, reminding him that he had yet to respond.

“No.”

A slight pause and then, “No, you’re not there? Or, no, no deal?”

He sighed and sat up straighter. “This has never been about the money.”

Money he had. In spades. He’d made three times more than his father ever had by age thirty. And the Payne family was just as old and wealthy a New England clan as the Winsteads.

The thought brought his mother’s face to mind. As her only child, they’d always shared an especially close bond … drawn tighter, he suspected, by the details surrounding his birth.

He had yet to tell her he was pursuing this lawsuit; of course, that meant little—she was probably already well aware of what was going on. The upper one percent was like a small town with lots of acreage. Still, she had yet to say anything to him. He suspected she was waiting for him to come to her and allowing him to do what he needed to do.

The way he saw it, he was doing this as much for her as for himself. She’d sacrificed so much for him … surely he owed her at least the return of her good name.

“They’re anxious for you to let this go.”

Of course they were. The Winsteads didn’t want an illegitimate child to sully up the late, great Theodore Winstead’s good name.

He realized he was gritting his teeth and forced himself to stop.

“You don’t have to make a decision now. Sleep on it. I’ll call again on Monday.”

“No need,” Caleb said. “Refuse and go to the next step.”

“Will do.” Not even a hesitation.

Satisfied, he hung up the phone and sat back again, his every muscle coiled and tense.

He didn’t know how long he sat like that until there was another knock and Nancy appeared in the door.

“Any luck finding Philippidis?” he asked.

“No.”

He stared at her for minute. It was understood that when he was in the office she was to be present, as well. Unless she requested otherwise, or he dismissed her.

“These messages came in while you were on the phone.”

He rubbed his face, noting the stubble there. He’d use his en suite bathroom to shave and clean up before leaving.

He accepted the five slips of paper, leafing through them once, and then again, stopping on one in particular.

He held it up. “Is this her office number?”

“Her cell phone.”

Even better.

“Thanks, Nancy. That’ll be all. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Very good, sir. Good night.”

Caleb rounded his desk, waiting until his secretary gathered her things and left the office before sitting down and picking up the phone, dialing the number on the slip.

She picked up on the second ring.

“Our meeting was interrupted the other day. I’d like to continue it.”

He waited for Bryna Metaxas to reply. “I’d like that,” she said, a low, groin-tightening purr in her voice. “Next week?”

“A half hour. At Giorgio’s.”

HALF AN HOUR wasn’t nearly enough time for a girl to put on her evening best. But when the invitation was accepted, she was bound by business etiquette to follow through.

But as the taxi pulled up to Giorgio’s forty minutes later, Bryna knew that business had nothing to do with agreeing to meet Caleb Payne at the upscale restaurant.

She adjusted the heel strap of the gold Grecian-style sandals that Ari had brought back from Santorini for her, paid the driver and stepped out, pleasantly surprised to find Caleb waiting for her outside the doors. She’d expected him to be ensconced in one of the plush booths enjoying a drink, possibly even having ordered already.

Instead he’d waited outside.

Every sensation she’d experienced during their meeting the other day returned … tenfold. She felt…. breathless, somehow. Like he was already touching her everywhere she wanted to be touched by him. and she was responding in a greedy, uninhibited way….

Over the past couple of days, she’d tried to convince herself she was overreacting to what had really happened, imagined that he had been attracted to her, shelved any sexual notions with a Post-it that read harmless flirtation.

But now she knew she hadn’t amplified anything…. if anything, she’d downplayed it.

She walked in his direction, watching him watch her. Despite her business argument, she was dressed for sheer pleasure. There was nothing innocent about her choice of little black dress. The clingy material was too intimate, her bare shoulder moist with lotion and perfumed, her hair down from her usual twist and finger-curled around her face.

Bryna hesitated slightly as she drew near enough to speak. In the waning evening light, he looked a dangerous black figure, more shadow than light. And for reasons she was ill-prepared to identify, she felt as if she was walking into a trap. A nicely appointed trap, but one the man across from her had designed to his advantage … and one she fully intended to enter, the hell with the consequences.

Finally, she stopped in front of him, clutching her small purse. Whatever words she might have said dissolved against her dry tongue as Caleb’s gaze lingered on her legs and then slowly made its way up the snug fit of her dress until he finally looked into her eyes. Bryna jutted her chin out the tiniest bit and smiled suggestively, waiting for his thoughts, which she was sure he was about to share.

“Intriguing.”

Bryna shivered. She’d never been referred to as intriguing before; she decided she liked it. More, she was determined to prove herself exactly that.

She asked in a voice she hardly recognized, “Shall we?”

The upward quirk of the corners of his mouth made her own water. “We most definitely shall….”

4

CALEB HAD CERTAINLY KNOWN his share of women. And prided himself on being able to pigeonhole them within five minutes. Who they were. What they were after. How long their liaison would last.

But Bryna Metaxas was proving a charming enigma.

Throughout dinner she was by turns openly flirtatious and smartly businesslike depending on which way he slanted the conversation.

She even seemed to realize exactly what he was doing with each turn, a small, acknowledging smile letting him know that he wouldn’t always get his way.

Little did she know that he always got exactly that, he reflected as he sipped his post-dinner coffee.

“So, tell me, Mr. Payne. Since it’s obvious you didn’t ask me here to discuss business matters—in fact, I’m certain you haven’t even looked at the proposals I left at your office—then why did you ask?”

Direct. Fresh. Another woman might think the reason for his invitation unimportant, instead focusing on what she could gain from it. Not Bryna.

“Is it a sin to want to enjoy the company of a beautiful woman?”

She licked the side of her fork in a decidedly sexy manner that they both knew was done for reasons other than enjoyment of the slice of chocolate mousse torte she’d ordered for dessert.

“I should think you’d have at least a dozen beautiful women you could call.”

Caleb leaned back in the leather booth, his suit pants feeling tight around the crotch at the sight of her tongue darting out of her red painted lips and drawing slowly along the silver. He could think of one place in particular where he’d like to see her do that, and the idea was so tempting it was more intoxicating than the snifter of cognac he’d ordered along with his coffee.

“I could also ask why you were free on a Friday evening.” He hiked a brow. “Or did you cancel something?”

“You’re redirecting the conversation. Again.”

Caleb chuckled and narrowed his eyes as he considered her.

“Okay.” He leaned forward, placing his hands on the table between them. “I recently found myself at the end of six-month relationship,” he said. “And hadn’t thought about not having company this weekend. And, the truth is, I do not like to dine alone.”

She appeared surprised that he’d offered up what he had. She leaned forward, as well, their hands nearly meeting on the table. “I appreciate the honesty, but that still doesn’t explain why you called me.”

“I called you,” he began, turning his hands palm up, aware of the way they itched to touch her, her cheek, her neck, her breasts…. “Because I was reasonably sure that you wouldn’t sleep with me tonight.”

That apparently surprised her as she sat back. But she recovered quickly.

She didn’t appear in any hurry to offer up a response. And he liked that. Indeed, he enjoyed watching her face as she turned his explanation over in her beautiful head, her eyes growing dark, her smile provocatively sexy.

He’d bet she was slowly rubbing her foot against the calf of her other leg under the table.

“Reasonably?” she asked, her voice quiet and loaded with suggestion.

Nice. “Mmm.”

“Because?”

“Because you wouldn’t want me to get the wrong impression.”

She smiled. “Ah, because of our business connection.”

“There is no business connection.”

“Yet.”

He grinned. “Yet.”

“So you think I’m above sleeping with someone for business gain,” she said quietly, putting another forkful of torte in her mouth. A mouth that was driving him to absolute distraction.

“I think you’re very much above it.”

“And if I invited you back to my place?”

“I’d have to insist we go to mine….”

OKAY, SO HE’D CALLED her bluff.

And Bryna practically shivered from head to toe at the thought of going through with it.

It had been sweet torture sitting across from him, wanting to know more, but unable to find the words with which to ask him.

Oh, they’d talked. But she’d been too distracted by the line of his jaw … the strength of his hands … the length of his fingers … the sureness of his dark gaze to challenge him to a verbal rather than visual duel.

And now she had the chance at a physical contest.

The heat of his hand where it rested on her arm as they walked toward the restaurant door seared her bare flesh.

At the curb, a limo instantly pulled up and the driver came out to open the door for them.

If she got into that car, she knew she’d be a goner. She would be unable to stop herself from going as far as he intended to take this. And while an elemental, wild side of her was all for it, her mind cried out that it was too fast, too soon. To sleep with him would be placing the advantage in his court and swipe all the balls from hers.

Instead of entering the car, she turned toward him, finding him so close that her thigh ended up pressing against a certain, nicely rock-hard part of him. She shivered and looked up into his eyes, her hand resting against his chest.

“As tempting as the invitation is,” she whispered, her breath grazing the jaw she’d been wanted to taste all night, “I’m afraid you’re right. There’s no chance I’m going to sleep with you tonight.”

He smelled of limes and one hundred percent hot male.

She watched the corners of his mouth turn up. “Shame,” he said, his fingers brushing against her hips and then resting there, pulling her imperceptibly closer to him, crowding her against his arousal.

“Mmm,” she agreed, her heart pounding a loud rhythm in her chest.

She leaned in as if to kiss him, her gaze moving from his eyes to his mouth and back again.

She stepped back instead and waved for a taxi.

“Thank you for dinner,” she murmured.

“Thank you for the company.”

“Anytime.”

His eyes sparkled dangerously. “I might just take you up on that offer.”

She hoped he did.

SO SOFT … SO WARM …

Her body throbbed with yearning, wet, needy. She arched her back, reaching for Caleb as he leaned above her. But he always seemed just out of reach, smiling that knowing, wicked grin….

Her own moan woke her up.

Bryna rose quickly to her elbows and pushed back the tangle of hair in her eyes. She blinked her old bedroom at the Metaxas estate into view. White-curtained canopy. Pink-and-white wallpaper. A white marble fireplace. Stuffed animals stacked up in one corner.

She blew out a long breath. It had been two days since she’d said goodbye to Caleb at the restaurant, and ever since he’d haunted her dreams. Always there, always just within reach, yet outside it.

Bryna whipped the covers back and maneuvered her bare legs over the side of the bed, paying little mind that her simple cotton nightgown was bunched up around her thighs. She reached for her cell on the nightstand and clicked it open. No calls. No texts. She closed it again and put it back down and then padded across the large room toward the connecting bathroom.

Friday night it had taken all of her will after getting into that cab not to direct the driver to turn around and follow the limo instead. The reaction had surprised her. She’d never met a man who’d gotten under her skin to such a mind-robbing degree. She wanted to feel his hands on her. Wanted to put her mouth on him. Wanted to spend the night exploring the seeds of sensation their dinner together had planted in her. So much so that to prevent herself from pursuing him the next day, she’d driven back to Earnest for the night when usually she drove up Sunday morning for family brunch.