Bound and Determined

by
Julie Elizabeth Leto


Chapter One

"Can I have three guesses?"
She should have anticipated his request, but Rachel J eanville had spent
more time choosing her new sable brown hair color than preplanning her
seduction of Aiden Wolfe, opting instead for uncharacteristic spontaneity. Of
course, Aiden couldn't see her hair. Or her sexy black dress with plunging
neckline and barely there hem.
Aiden could have three guesses or three hundred, but without seeing her,
he'd never suspect that the woman who had blindfolded him and tied him to
his bed was the same shy, nave wallflower he'd seduced two years ago.
"You don't need to know who I am."
"Then how can I tell the police whom to charge with kidnapping?" he
quipped. His humor sounded forced. When he'd first stirred from sleep to
find himself in her sex-shop shackles, he'd been amused. He seemed to think
she was someone named Amber finally making good on a threat to chain him
to her bed.
The minute Rachel spoke, however, his legendary devil-may-care attitude
took a decided turn.
"I haven't taken you anywhere," she insisted, "so technically, you're not
kidnapped."
"False imprisonment, then."
Certain she'd tied the satin blindfold securely, she stalked into the dim
candlelight. "I forgot you were once a lawyer. What was that, profession
number five-hundred and two?" She tugged on the silk-lined handcuffs she'd
used to trap his hands on his bedposts. "There's nothing false about this
imprisonment, Mr. Wolfe. For tonight, you're mine."
"And after that?"
Hopefully, you'll be mine then, too.
Rachel erased the thought from her mind. Concentrate on the here and
now, Rachel. Not the future. Definitely not the past.
"Let's play this one hour at a time, shall we?" she suggested.
"Tell me how you broke into my penthouse."
"I used a key."
"Which you stole."
"Have you ever counted how many doormen and valets handle your keys
on a daily basis?"
She'd only watched him for two days prior to making her move, and with a
little help from Aiden's own publicist, Mark Smythe, Rachel had managed to
capture the famed womanizing playboy completely unaware.
"Your doorman is a particularly nice man. He once worked in a building
my uncle owned."
"So you're from New Orleans?"
"Born and raised."
Disclosing that fact gave nothing away. This New York native had
probably seduced a lion's share of Southern beauties in his thirty-five-year
lifetime. Including her, though she knew he wouldn't remember.
Which worked to her advantage. Rachel was tired of waiting for adventure
to find her. She couldn't face another day as the one lone J eanville angel. So
she'd found the perfect way to change her reputation...and concurrently exact
a sweet, sensual revenge.
"Are you pretty?"
"Why do you ask?"
"J ust wondering about the blindfold and cuffs. I don't normally turn down
attractive women intent on seduction."
"No," she said with a snort, "you're more known for taking the upper hand,
leaving the woman sexually satisfied, but wondering how the hell she lost
control."
Rachel spoke from experience, meeting Aiden in Baton Rouge at an art
gallery opening. The decadent party had had a guest list brimming with the
hippest, smartest, trendiest trendsetters from all over the world.
Aiden, a wealthy lothario with some interest in one of the artists, had
flown down from New York. She remembered how she'd inadvertently
caught his eye from across the room, how in seconds he'd snatched a glass of
champagne from a tray and delivered the flute to her in a quiet corner.
At the time, she'd blamed her sister, Margo, for leaving her alone,
disappearing into a private office with a promising artist Margo had wanted
to seduce for months. Rachel, the only good-girl child in a family of
notorious rakes and seductresses, had never lived on the edge like her four-
time divorced mother, her still-bachelor father, or her free-living and even
freer-loving siblings.
But one glance into Aiden Wolfe's seductive onyx eyes had transformed
her for one night from a good girl to a scarlet woman.
Only Rachel hadn't expected such a short night. He'd seduced her in the
garden, then returned to the party as if their encounter had never happened,
flirting and enticing other women until dawn. She hadn't expected a marriage
proposal, but she'd be damned if she'd accept his cold dismissal.
It had taken her two years to seek her revenge, but with Aiden Wolfe now
trussed up like a love slave, the wait would be worth it.
"I want you to be sure about one thing, Mr. Wolfe. I'm in control here."
"Hence the handcuffs. But you know, love, if you do want to seduce me,
you might start by calling me Aiden."
He sounded entirely too cocky, so Rachel tugged down the Egyptian
cotton sheet, exposing his tanned and magnificently sculpted body to the dim
candlelight she'd placed around the room. From the curve of hard flesh in his
loose silk boxers, she gathered her scenario intrigued and excited him.
She grabbed a peacock plume from the bag of toys she'd brought with her,
then traced the hard sinews of his legs with the soft, feathery tip. "You're my
prisoner, Aiden. I intend to do wild and wicked things to you, and you'll
enjoy each and every one."
"If I'm tied, I can't bring you the same pleasure."
"Not all women need to be brought pleasure. Some of us find it for
ourselves."
"What's the fun in that?" he asked.
"This isn't about fun," she answered, only half-serious. The tight dress
she'd swiped from Margo's closet grew tauter and tauter against her skin as
she grew hotter and hotter for Aiden.
She'd known she'd want him again, anticipated that her scheme would be
just as erotic for her as she hoped it would be for him, but she hadn't known
her lust and desire would be so overwhelming, so instantaneous. Her nipples
tightened. Moisture trickled between her thighs. She closed her eyes. Took a
deep breath. Before she began her seduction, he had to know why she was
here what she really wanted.
"Not about fun? Then what? Revenge?" he asked.
Rachel gasped, shocked by the accuracy of his wild guess. She had wanted
revenge, but she also wanted a job.
Mark Smythe had told Rachel that Aiden was planning to write a tell-all
book, a steamy expos of his sexual exploits a sort of "What Women
Want" guidebook. Aiden only reluctantly agreed to the project because the
bestseller lists were currently ripe with erotic confessions, and his might just
top them all.
But Aiden, a man who thrived on new challenges and fresh conquests,
reportedly hated the idea of being trapped with a computer, alone with only
his words and half-forgotten memories. So, he needed a ghostwriter. And
Rachel wanted the job.
She flipped the feather over, then traced a similar path up his other leg
with the slightly sharp quill end. He made a sizzling sound through his
teeth a sound that unfurled a curl of heat deep inside her.
"Consider this a job interview, Aiden. And we'll see how things go from
there."
Chapter Two
Rachel put down the feather and sat on the side of Aiden's bed. Aiden
inhaled sharply and his nostrils flared as she circled a well-manicured nail
around his nipple.
"A job interview," he growled. "What on earth are you talking about?"
"I want to ghostwrite your memoirs." Rachel trailed butterfly kisses across
Aiden's rib cage. His scent intoxicated her, causing her to grip the sheet
tightly as she fought to control her emotions.
I'm in charge. Rachel chanted the mantra silently to herself and rose from
the bed. A bit weak in the knees, she scrutinized Aiden's prone and trussed
figure. Sweat beaded in tiny droplets on his tan and muscular torso, and his
sexual desire rose proudly beneath silk boxers. Rachel smiled to herself as
she realized that, yes, she was in charge.
"My book," Aiden said. "How do you know about that?"
"We have mutual acquaintances."
"What makes you think you are capable of telling my story?"
"I can write," Rachel stated as she walked around the side of the bed. "And
you have to admit that I am creative." She bent and nipped his earlobe,
satisfied when Aiden turned his head toward her.
"That you are," he whispered, touching his forehead to hers.
The intimate gesture had Rachel jumping back unexpectedly. She swore
softly as her hip bumped the nightstand.
"What's the matter, sweetheart?" Aiden inquired with a definite smugness
that set Rachel's nerves on edge. "Is it too hot in here for you?"
"Not for me, lover. Shall we continue this job interview?" Rachel ran her
fingertips beneath the satin waistband of Aiden's shorts. She desperately
battled her desire to move further and feel the heat that pulsed below.
"Lady, you are killing me." Aiden raised his hips searching for her touch.
His reaction had her juices flowing and pulse soaring. Against her better
judgment, she straddled his waist and softly touched her lips to his.
Aiden hungrily attacked her mouth. A punch of desire slammed into
Rachel's gut, and she returned his hunger with passion. He was hot as a coal
as he strained desperately toward her. Rachel's fingers splayed against his
chest. Aiden's heart hammered beneath her touch.
Rachel battled back to reality as her desire raged. It was difficult, but she
managed to pull away and leap off the bed. Aiden panted his curses and
pulled on his restraints with such force that Rachel was certain he would
break the bedposts.
"Let me loose!" he demanded.
"Will you hire me?" she whispered hoarsely.
"Yes! Now release me!" His rage and frustration had Rachel second-
guessing herself. Maybe she had pushed this seduction a bit too far.
"Okay, but first we need to make this official."
"And how do you plan on accomplishing that?"
"J ust a minute." Rachel walked to the nightstand, picked up the telephone
and dialed. Rachel spoke softly into the receiver and then held the phone to
Aiden's ear. A familiar voice elicited a relieved grin from Aiden.
"Mark, you old dog, this is certainly one of your finer practical jokes!"
"What joke?"
"This setup, that's what!"
"What setup? I thought you wanted to discuss the biographer you've
found."
Aiden frowned beneath his blindfold as Rachel whispered in his ear. "Sign
me up, Mr. Wolfe, or else you'll have to remain my slave."
"You're right, Mark. She's in the room with me right now. Get the details
from her and make the deal."
"No problem. I'm glad to see that you've finally settled into the idea of this
tell-all book. It'll be a blockbuster, you just wait and see," Mark said.
"That's what you keep saying."
"Don't sweat it, buddy. Hey, are you okay? You sound a bit strange."
"I'm fine, just a bit on edge," Aiden replied.
Rachel smothered a giggle, took the phone away from Aiden's ear, and
spoke rapidly into the receiver. "Thank you, Mr. Wolfe." She laughed softly
and hung up.
Rachel paced nervously around the room. Now that she had accomplished
the mission of obtaining the biography deal, she wasn't sure how to continue.
Her body screamed to complete the seduction but her heart wanted so much
more than quick satisfaction.
"Will you untie me now?"
"Not until we clarify a few details," Rachel stalled as her mind raced
through several scenarios of how to escape her current situation.
"All right, why don't we start with your name."
"My name?"
"That's right. I'd like to know whom I've just hired."
"Rachel."
"Okay, Rachel, now, let's have the rest of it."
Rachel frowned in concentration. Shrugging, she knew that she would be
forced to reveal herself sooner or later. She couldn't keep him tied and
blindfolded while she wrote his entire book, could she? Rachel shook her
head and slipped into her jacket. She was prepared to talk quickly, untie him,
and run like mad. Hopefully by tomorrow morning, his temper would have
cooled off sufficiently for them to begin working together.
"Okay, it's J eanville. Rachel J eanville."
"J eanville? I know that name. Are you related to Margo J eanville, the
model?"
"Yes," Rachel spoke softly.
"Well," Aiden laughed heartily. "Then you should enjoy the fact that I
intend to dedicate an entire chapter in my biography to her!"
Chapter Three
"Really?" Rachel bristled, but laughed throatily for effect. "Would that be
a chapter on your wildest fantasies?" She blew out one of the thick vanilla
candles.
"I don't have time for fantasies." Aiden settled back comfortably in his
bed. "I'm too busy making my dreams a reality." The man made it look as if
lying on his back with his wrists secured to bedposts was a perfectly natural
position.
"Is that so?" Hoisting her bag on her shoulder, Rachel blew out another
candle and sauntered closer to him. "I hate to break it to you, but Margo's
never mentioned your name."
"Maybe she just didn't want to make you jealous." His head turned blindly
to the sound of her voice.
"Maybe you just weren't very memorable." She eased down beside him
and smoothed the hair at his temple. The solitary candle next to the bed cast
his face in more shadow than light. He didn't look so relaxed now. His hands
splayed and stretched in irritation. She had a sudden desire to kiss him once
before she left.
"No, that's not it," Aiden replied. He turned into her hand and kissed her
palm. Rachel pulled her hand away as the delicious shock shattered her
reverie.
"Well, I guess I'll never know." Deliberately insulting Aiden helped her
regain control of her emotions. Could he really have had an affair with
Margo, her own sister? The thought consumed her.
Rachel turned to set down her bag and blow out the last candle. She'd have
enough moonlight to see by to unlock his wrists. Then she'd grab her bag and
race to the door before he even knew she'd released him. But as she began to
straighten, she found herself being pulled down hard against his chest.
"Oh, I don't know about that, Rachel." She yelped and twisted in his grip.
"Easy, baby," he said softly. "I just want to get a look at you."
"L-let me go," she sputtered. "How'd you get free?
He held her easily with one arm while he lifted his blindfold. Inscrutable
eyes regarded her profile intently. His sharp intake of breath was nearly her
undoing. Both fear and the unbidden hope of recognition sent adrenaline
coursing through her. Either way, she knew she'd affected him as much as he
affected her. The power of it intoxicated her.
"You're obviously not very familiar with those cuffs," he said, looking
amused. "There's a safety release."
"Great." She faced him defiantly. "You can let go now. You don't need
your hands for looking."
"No," he admitted. "But I'll need them to seduce you." He rubbed the
thumb of his free hand along her jawline and tipped her chin up. A verbal
assault died on her lips as he cut her off with his full, sensuous mouth.
He skimmed her lips slowly, searching for signs of assent. Lulled by the
silky feel of him, she sighed and relaxed. Her response ignited something in
him. Without warning, the sweetness of the kiss flared to a gentle ferocity.
His hold on her loosened as their contact deepened, but she reached up to
grip his shoulders. Powerful muscles rippled beneath her palms. His hand
slid down to the buttons of her jacket, and her nipple tightened involuntarily
as his hand brushed against it. The touch jolted her back to reality.
"Don't you have enough material for your book?" she asked breathlessly.
Bitterness washed over her like a glass of iced tea he hadn't recognized
her name, and if he recognized her face he wasn't showing it.
"Of course, but if you're going to write it, you should know a little bit
more about me." His hair tickled her neck as he bent his head to unbutton her
coat. "Besides, you're so bound and determined to have your name in print.
Consider this your opportunity."
"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked stiffly, gathering her wits.
"As a ghostwriter, you won't have your name on the covers why not
have it between them?" With his head still bent to his task, she heard rather
than saw his rakish grin.
"Is that your best offer?" She batted at his hands in irritation.
"No, but this will be." He'd opened her coat. The resulting display of
shapely legs and the soft curves swelling above her neckline mesmerized him
for a moment. "Let me show you just how memorable I can be."
She'd gained momentum in his moment of weakness. "I have enough
memories. I don't need anymore." She sounded casual, but her heart still
raced.
"I don't know about what you need, but I know what you want." He shifted
her coat down her shoulders and touched his lips to the base of her neck.
Her head fell back. She was lost again and couldn't think beyond the
electric sensations engulfing her. Gentle nips and kisses inched up the
column of her throat. The jacket, bunched at her elbows, pinioned her arms
from doing much more than gripping the muscles of his back. His arms
cradled her as he guided her down to the mattress beneath him.
"Rachel," he groaned softly. A signal flared in her brain.
"Stop." It was barely more than a thick whisper. She struggled against the
mutinous jacket to push him away. He labored to prop himself above her on
his elbows.
"I have to go," she said.
Obsidian eyes bored into hers and evoked memories that tore at her heart.
He sat up and handed her bag to her when she stood. He held on to it when
she would have turned.
"This isn't over." Raw emotion glittered in his eyes. "I won't force you.
You'll come to me willingly soon enough." He let go abruptly and lay back
down.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked for the second time. Relief and
confusion vied for equal attention.
"You are a J eanville after all," he said, smiling scornfully. "Be here at nine
tomorrow morning. Bring your laptop and some coffee."
"Is that all?" Sarcasm dripped from her voice, but relief won out and swept
her heart as she headed toward the door.
"No. Don't forget to lock up on your way out," he commanded irritably.
"And Rachel "
Something in his voice turned her head.
"I'm not going to let you get away so easily this time."
Chapter Four
Rachel stood outside Aiden's door, her laptop bag in one hand and coffee
in the other. She set the case down on the floor and raised her hand to knock.
She paused briefly before her hand connected with the door.
Did Aiden recognize me last night? The thought tumbled through her mind
for the fiftieth time.
She thought his parting remark about not letting her get away this time.
Rachel straightened her shoulders and knocked on the door. No, he didn't
remember. When they were together two years ago, Aiden was the one who
walked away, not her.
She heard Aiden call for her to come in. Rachel opened the door, picked
up her laptop and walked in. Aiden was sitting at his desk, going over some
paperwork. He glanced up at her briefly as she laid the coffee on his desk.
"I'll be done in a minute," he said as his onyx eyes locked with hers.
Rachel noted his black v-neck fine-gauge sweater fit his muscular
physique all too well. She mentally berated herself for her wandering
thoughts. She wanted, no, needed to stay focused. She nodded to Aiden and
walked over to the window to enjoy the magnificent view.
Aiden didn't return to his paperwork. He watched Rachel walk over and
stare pensively out the window. He felt his body instantly tighten at the sight
of the woman, and the memories she evoked in him. He hadn't known her last
name was J eanville until last night, but he recognized her immediately when
he removed the blindfold. Rachel, the one woman he wouldn't want to write
about in his memoirs, because she was the only woman he'd wanted to keep
to himself. She had a guileless, yet innocently seductive way about her. What
they shared that night two years ago wasmagic. Shaking himself out of his
reverie, he pushed away from his desk and walked towards her.
Rachel stiffened and drew in her breath as Aiden whispered in her ear.
"Ready to get started, Rachel?" She had been lost in her own thoughts when
she felt his warm breath on her neck, the heat of his body permeating her thin
linen dress.
Rachel turned and saw Aiden's devilish smile at her reaction to his
nearness. She stepped around him. "Yes, Aiden. Let's get started." She was
all business as she pulled out her laptop and settled into a chair at a long table
near the window.
Ignoring his amused eyes, she poised her hands above the keyboard and
said, "Where do you want to start?" She both feared and hoped that he would
begin with the chapter on Margo: she had to know if what he'd insinuated last
night was true.
Aiden slid his hands into the pockets of his charcoal gray slacks and
propped against the table next to her. His expression turned serious. "Why
don't we start with the ground rules?"
"The ground rules?" Rachel looked up at Aiden, a curious expression on
her face.
"Yes, you know, kind of a code I live by when it comes to women. Plus,
this prologue will let the reader see that there is a method to my badness, so
to speak." He flashed her an unrepentant grin and stared boldly into her eyes.
"Oh," Rachel replied, feeling her cheeks go hot at his intense scrutiny. She
looked back down and began typing.
Aiden continued, "Rule number one: Each woman is different in her own
way. Treat her as such."
Rachel glanced at him. She arched an eyebrow but didn't say a word as she
continued typing.
Aiden pushed off the table and began pacing behind her as he continued to
rattle off his 'rules'. "Rule number two: Never assume you know what a
woman wants: ask her. Then, give her exactly what she asks for."
Rachel could feel her body's immediate reaction to his words. She had a
hard time concentrating but managed to type. Aiden had done just that. He
hadn't assumed what she wanted. He had asked her. The fact that he had
asked made her feel special. But Rachel had been new at the whole
lovemaking thing. She just went with her natural instincts when she had
replied to Aiden's question. He had made her feel things and want things she
had never felt before.
He stopped pacing and stood directly behind her. She felt him looking
over her shoulder. "Rule number three: Never leave a woman unsatisfied."
Rachel's hands begin to shake as she typed in the rule. His words were
bringing back too many memories of their time together, and she couldn't
deny the desire she still felt for him when he stood so close.
She jumped when she felt Aiden's warm hands on her shoulders. He
leaned over and whispered in her ear as he gingerly massaged her, "You
seem a little tense, Rachel. Do you need to take a break?" Rachel suddenly
regretted wearing spaghetti straps. The heat from his hands on her bare skin
made it difficult for her to form a coherent thought.
Rachel shrugged off his hands, replying stiffly, "No, I'm fine. Continue."
"Rule number four: Never get emotionally involved."
Rachel clenched her teeth as she typed in the fourth rule.
"Rule number five: Never sleep with a virgin."
Rachel stilled her fingers on the keyboard. Did he know she had been a
virgin? She turned and looked at him. "Why, because you don't want to take
the time with someone who's inexperienced?" she said wryly.
Aiden gave her an offended look. "Remember rule number three, Rachel,"
he admonished. "No, the fact that I won't sleep with virgins has to do with
rule number four. Virgins have a tendency to get emotionally involved."
Rachel turned back to the keyboard. "Maybe they're not as emotionally
involved as you think. Maybe it's just that a woman's first time is a
memorable experience."
She heard Aiden's voice directly behind her. He sounded surprised. "You
sound like you are speaking from experience."
He put his hands back on her shoulders and leaned close to her ear, his
tone suddenly intense, "Tell me, Rachel. Your most memorable timewas it
also your first?"
Chapter Five
Rachel stiffened beneath Aiden's touch and sucked in a deep breath. She
held it, her fingers hovering above the keyboard, and then slowly exhaled.
Aiden's hands teased the sensitive skin of her shoulders as she squirmed
beneath them.
"Every time is memorable to me," she said pointedly. "Besides, we're
writing about your escapades, Aiden, not mine."
He stood behind her for a silent moment and turned and positioned himself
against the edge of the table, crossing his legs at the ankles. Rachel cleared
her throat and looked up at him.
"Tell me, Aiden. Your most memorable time...was it your first, or your
fiftieth?" Beneath the sarcastic edge to her voice was another tone. What
number had she been to him?
Aiden studied Rachel's face, his brow furrowed. Then his face relaxed and
a slow, charming smile spread across tantalizing lips. "It seems we have
something else in common," he said.
Something else? Rachel narrowed her eyes at him. Like they could have
anything in common except a quick tryst that numbered somewhere on his
list of conquests, and numbered one on hers.
"Every time is memorable to me, too" he said. "How do you think I could
be writing this book? I remember every time. Every..." he slid down the
table, nearer to her chair "single..." he continued to slide closer to her
"one."
He stopped directly beside her. Neither one of them said a word. Aiden
caught her eyes, trapping her curious, unsure gaze with his purposeful, dark
look until she cleared her throat and looked down at the computer screen.
"So," her voice was quiet, "pick one time that was memorable for you and
tell me about it."
Rachel could feel Aiden's eyes on her still, knew that he was waiting for
her to look back, but she kept her gaze on the screen, as if it held far more
interest. Finally, he moved a chair next to her and sat down.
Rachel looked sideways at him, studying his chiseled profile, and then
turned back to her computer. She wiggled her fingers, ready to type, but not
as ready to hear what this story would entail. Would it involve her sister?
Some other woman about whom she had no business feeling jealous?
He took a deep breath and braced one elbow on each armrest, steepling his
fingers together. "There was one time it was during a party. There were
beautiful people everywhere."
Rachel looked over at him, surprised at the hint of resentment in his voice.
He was used to hanging out with beautiful people, wasn't he? Wasn't that
where he was in his element? He continued talking and she was forced to
concentrate on the keyboard once again.
"The music was loud, people mingled inside and outside, on the back
patio, around the lighted grounds. I saw this woman from across the room.
Between the shadows of the evening and the shadows created by the
lighting...I was drawn to her. She was beautiful, different, unaffected by the
harshness of life. Almost innocent."
Margo was young, but innocent? It didn't sound as though he was talking
about her sister. It was some other woman that had made such an impression
on him. Aiden's voice held an almost hypnotic quality to it as he continued
softly.
"I wasn't lacking for company. Every time I turned around somebody else
was there to talk to. But I had to talk to her. I went up to her, introduced
myself, gave her a glass of champagne. We started talking. She kept looking
around. I thought she was waiting for somebody, but it turns out she was just
nervous. Shy. We walked into the garden."
Rachel's fingers started trembling. He was describing that night she had
never forgotten, not for one day over the past two years. Somehow, she was
able to continue typing without making any mistakes.
"I can't tell you why I was drawn to her. She wasn't like the kind of
women I was usually attracted to."
"I thought every woman was different. Rule number one."
Aiden seemed to snap out of his reverie and he looked over at her with an
appreciative grin. "You're paying attention. I knew you were different."
Rachel had no response. She just stared over at him with wide eyes. He
held her gaze and reached over slowly, taking her hands in his and pulling
her to her feet as he stood, never taking his eyes from hers. The heat of his
touch burned into her skin.
"You have no idea how many times I've wondered what would have
happened if I hadn't left the garden without you that night. Wondered why
the rules didn't matter to me from the minute I kissed you for the first time."
Aiden brought one of Rachel's hands up to his mouth and turned it over,
bringing her palm to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the warm flesh and heard
the sharp intake of her breath, felt the pull of her hand against his grip.
Rachel's hands went to Aiden's shoulders as he wrapped his arms around
her waist. He looked down at her and hesitated. Then, Rachel rose up on her
toes and pressed her mouth against his. Aiden needed no further urging. His
kiss turned fiery, needy, possessive. His hands splayed across her back,
imprisoning her in his grasp, pulling her closer to him. She let out a soft
moan and opened her mouth to him, inviting him to plunder her mouth, kiss
her senseless.
Rachel curled her arms tighter around his neck. She was about to speak but
froze when she heard the door open.
"Margo," Aiden whispered.
Chapter Six
Rachel jumped back, a guilty flush suffusing her face, as Margo strode
into the room. Confusion warred with embarrassment in her mind. Aiden had
spoken of a relationship with Margo. And yet Margo had never mentioned
his name. Oh God had she just kissed her sister's lover?
"Hey, honey!" Margo dropped her Prada purse onto the couch and reached
up to give Aiden a peck on the cheek. She looked over at Rachel, appearing
not at all surprised to see her in Aiden's apartment. "How's it going, sis?"
Words stuck in Rachel's desiccated throat. She glanced at Aiden, but she
couldn't decipher the stony look on his face.
At their continuing silence, Margo flicked a delicate blond eyebrow
upward, and a bemused smile spread across her face. "Did I interrupt
something?"
"No." The charming ladies' man reappeared as Aiden slid an arm around
Margo's waist. "We were just discussing how to start the book."
The megawatt smile that had sold millions of magazines took over
Margo's face. She leaned over to Rachel and whispered, "Have him explain
his rules to you." With a conspiratorial wink, Margo sashayed through the
kitchen door.
The breath Rachel didn't realize she'd been holding left her with a rush.
Emotions tumbled, somersaulted, and back-flipped through her. When
exactly had she lost control, of herself as well as her sweet, sensual game of
revenge? She reached down to close her laptop when Aiden's fingers curled
over hers.
"Wait," he whispered. The almost pleading tone shocked her more than the
sparks of arousal his touch caused. The kitchen door swung open as Margo
returned with a bottle of mineral water, and Aiden released Rachel's hand.
"I'll leave you two alone," Rachel murmured as she shoved the laptop back
into its case. If only she could get out of Aiden's penthouse without
embarrassing herself further. She had never shared a man with Margo before
and she wasn't about to start now, even though her body screamed for
Aiden's touch.
"What are you talking about?" Margo asked. She took a drink from the
bottle before continuing. "I'm here to help you."
As Rachel's eyes widened in surprise, Aiden's narrowed.
"I told Mark we didn't need any help." Aiden's mild tone contrasted
sharply with the obvious tension in his neck and shoulders.
Margo sat on one of the chairs flanking the couch with a grin that rivaled
the Cheshire Cat's. "Mark told me that Rachel was your ghostwriter. And
Rachel tells me that a good biographer always interviews all the principle
players in the subject's life." Margo shrugged as she took another drink.
"Mark suggested I should join you two this morning so Rachel would get a
broader perspective."
Rachel had thought she could handle Aiden talking about seducing Margo,
even though the churning pit of her stomach told her she was lying to herself.
But she knew Margo would tell her every sordid detail of her liaison with
Aiden, just as Margo had told Rachel of every last touch of every man she
had been with since she lost her virginity. Rachel also knew if she heard how
Aiden had touched Margo or kissed her, her head would explode or her
heart.
The shrill ring of Aiden's phone interrupted the Jerry Springer tableau.
Muttering under his breath, Aiden grabbed the receiver. Despite his lowered
voice, Rachel caught the words "no interruptions" several times. Finally, he
lowered the receiver. "Could you ladies excuse me for a moment?"
"Sure." Margo leaped from the chair and grabbed Rachel's arm, dragging
her sister into the kitchen.
Once inside, Margo whirled to face Rachel, an emotion on her face that
Rachel had never seen before and was afraid to put a name to. So
Margo had seen her kissing Aiden. Margo wasn't the jealous type, but then,
she had never been betrayed by her own sister. Rachel was stung by her guilt.
Bracing herself for an onslaught of Margo's anger, Rachel held the edge of
the countertop in a white-knuckled grip.
However, a moment later she was shocked when she saw a dreamy
expression cross her sister's face.
"You're never going to believe this, Rachel, especially from me." Margo
giggled. "But I think I'm in love."
Chapter Seven
"In love!" Rachel's mind reeled. Margo was in love with Aiden? She
leaned back against the slate-gray countertop, her legs suddenly too weak to
support her weight.
Margo sighed happily, seemingly oblivious to her sister's shock. "He's
wonderful. Intelligent, motivated, caring..."
Oh, God. Rachel couldn't believe what she was hearing. Apparently Margo
hadn't seen her in Aiden's arms when she walked in after all, or she certainly
wouldn't be here rambling on about how perfect the man was.
"And he's so adorable!" Margo gushed. "I love it when he runs his hands
through his hair and it all sticks up in little blond spikes. And that kind of coy
way he'll look at me when he's not really sure what to do next."
Coy? Rachel certainly wouldn't describe Aiden as coy. Maybe Margo just
knew a different side of him than she did. Wait. Did she say blond spikes?
Aiden had dark hair, thick enough a girl could lose her fingers in it.
"Who on earth are you talking about?" Rachel demanded.
The sharp tone in her sister's question made Margo pause and look at her
incredulously. "Why, Mark, of course. Who else would I be... Oh!" A sly
grin crossed her face. One fine eyebrow arched as she asked, "You thought I
was talking about Aiden?"
Rachel remained silent.
Leaning against the opposite counter, Margo shrugged and said, "Aiden
and I are ancient history."
Ancient history. So there had been something between them. "But you
never told me anything about it!"
"That's because I don't like telling you about my failures." Margo rolled
her eyes, as if it were the most perfectly obvious thing in the world.
"Failures?"
"Aiden, the one that got away." She sighed dramatically, one hand over
her heart, the back of the other against her brow. Then she collapsed in a fit
of giggles. "Thank God!"
Rachel's eyes grew big. "I don't think I follow," she said.
Catching her breath, Margo finally explained. "I set my sights on Aiden a
year or so ago, and despite my best efforts, he always turned me down." She
shook her head as if the possibility still surprised her. "Poor guy will never
know what he's missing."
"So you two never..." Rachel's voice trailed off, as she was unable to ask
the question that she needed answered.
"Had sex?" Margo finished for her.
Rachel nodded, biting her bottom lip in apprehension.
"Nope!"
Relief washed through Rachel, warm and welcome, until yet another
question nettled her curiosity. "But then, why does he want to devote a
chapter in his memoirs to you?"
"He does? How sweet."
Getting information from her sister was like pulling teeth, Rachel thought,
miserably. If she wasn't mistaken, Margo was enjoying this.
"Margo, you're not making any sense," said Rachel.
"After it became obvious I wasn't going to get Aiden in bed, I realized
how much we actually had in common. We kind of became friends. A guy I
could talk to without having to worry about his intentions. And a
girl he could talk to without any sexual tension."
Rachel's jaw dropped. "So you two are just friends?"
"Yup."
"You two never slept together?"
"No, we never had sex, if that's what you're asking. Why, sis? You
interested?"
Very, Rachel thought silently. Before she could say anything Aiden's deep
voice came from the doorway startling them both. "That was Mark."
Instantly, Margo was at attention. "And how is our favorite publicist?"
Aiden raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Claws are already dug in, aren't
they?" Margo shrugged as she walked by him back into the living room. "The
guy doesn't stand a chance. He had some business to discuss with me, but I
think he really just wanted to make sure you two were still meeting for
lunch."
The genuine happiness that suffused her face made Rachel wonder if this
weren't really the real thing for Margo. "Yes! In fact, I should probably get
going now. I want to freshen up a bit before I see him." She turned and
headed for the door.
Rachel glanced at her watch as she followed her sister out of the kitchen,
her skin tingling in awareness as she passed by Aiden. "But weren't you
going to help with the book?" she asked before she realized that as soon as
Margo left, she'd have Aiden all to herself again, without any doubts about
his relationship with her sister.
A prickle of excitement trilled up her spine. But the excitement was
tempered by Rachel's growing anger. How dare Aiden mislead her!
"Rachel, dear, you can never spend too much time preparing for the man
you love. And besides, you know how to get ahold of me if you have any
questions." With a wink and cheerful wave, Margo was gone.
Rachel wondered fleetingly who the wink was for, Aiden or herself. Her
mind didn't have time to ponder the question, however, as she felt warm
hands on her hips, which ignited a warm glow in her belly despite her anger.
"Now it's just you and me," said Aiden.
Chapter Eight
"Do you mind?"
Rachel skewered him with such intensity, Aiden instinctively released her.
"Yikes. Frostbite, anyone?"
"What do you expect? Did you get a sufficient kick out of implying you'd
slept with my sister?"
Aiden wasn't such a fool as to let Rachel see one glimpse of his grin. He
covered his mouth with his hand and cleared his throat. The woman of his
dreams was exhibiting a rather invigorating degree of jealousy. Not the first
time a woman had allowed the green-eyed monster to fuel her ire in regards
to him, but just like everything else with Rachel, this was different.
"I never said there was anything sexual between your sister and me," he
clarified.
Rachel's bright blue eyes widened. "You wanted to devote an entire
chapter of your book to her."
Margo was a great friend, but her timing sucked. When she'd barged in
earlier, he'd been on the brink of confessing all to Rachel. About the night
he'd left her. About his innocent friendship with her sister. He opened his
mouth to fill in the details, but Rachel silenced him with her hand.
"Don't bother. Margo explained."
He scoffed. "I don't see how she could have."
Rachel shook her head and marched back to the laptop. "She told me that
you two are good friends."
"The best. A man can learn quite a bit from a woman if he'd just keep his
pants on."
"Finally! A rule of yours I can agree with one-hundred percent." She sat at
the desk, her fingers flying over the keys. "This would be number six," she
declared. After a rapid succession of machine-gun-fire tapping, she stopped,
scrolled, re-read, edited. Then she cursed and slammed the monitor down.
"I can't concentrate."
Aiden dug his hands into his pockets, certain that touching her right now,
no matter how he burned to feel her sweet skin against his, was not wise. Not
unless he wanted a left hook to the jaw. J ust yesterday, he'd been shackled to
the bed by Rachel, willing to give her whatever she desired simply for the
chance to spend time with her again, including a heartfelt confession. But he
doubted mere words would do the trick now. He needed actions, and lots of
them.
"Makes two of us," he conceded. "Let's get out of the apartment."
"And go where?"
"Anywhere. You pick."
Rachel's hesitation brimmed with fear, anger, wariness. He'd done them
both a great disservice by walking away two years ago. He'd thought
surrendering to her demand that she ghostwrite his book would be enough to
pay her back for his cool dismissal, but awarding her the dream job only
skimmed the surface.
J ust like their midnight liaison in the garden. Though he hadn't known it at
the time, he'd broken rule number five with Rachel, and as he predicted, she'd
become emotionally involved. Unfortunately for him, the emotion was anger.
"You wouldn't like where I'd pick," she snapped.
He suspected her choice would include somewhere equipped with whips
or chains or other assorted torture devices. Not that he objected to that in
theory, but in practice not until he found a way to tone down Rachel's
justifiable rage.
"You're probably right. I'll pick. Let's go."
She lifted her laptop case, but he held his hand out.
"Forget work."
"I can't forget work. I need this job. If I didn't, I wouldn't be here at all."
"Then I'm glad you're desperate."
He recognized his mistake the minute she stood and nearly slammed into
him, her eyes flashing, her spine straight, the tips of her breasts brushing oh-
so-slightly against his sweater. "Don't fool yourself, Aiden. I'm not as
desperate as I used to be."
"You mean that night in the garden."
He watched carefully for her reaction. Her jaw clenched, her cheek
twitched. But her gaze remained steadily locked with his, unyielding. "I'm
surprised you remember."
"Me, too."
Ever so slightly, she stepped back. Nothing about her movement denoted
surrender. She was just backing up so she could meet his gaze without tilting
her neck. "I'm glad you walked away."
"Excuse me?"
"What would have happened if you hadn't, Aiden? Maybe we would have
continued our affair for another few nights. Maybe a month. But then you
would have found a reason to leave, wouldn't you?"
"That has been my modus operandi."
"Probably will continue to be unless you rewrite your rules. Or at least,
allow them to evolve into something mildly reflective of maturity."
With his brow furrowed so deeply, his head started to ache. "And you're so
mature, tying a man to his bed and seducing a job out of him?"
Rachel's illicit grin nearly knocked him off his feet. "Got what I wanted,
didn't I? Can you say the same?"
Damn, but he'd underestimated her. And he'd wasted a lot of time teasing
her when he should have been seducing her. Really seducing her. Not with
sex, as he did with every other women. But with all he was all he ever
dreamed he could be. As a man. As a lover. He'd broken rule number
one. Each woman is different in her own way. And no one was more unique
than Rachel was. His Rachel. And he had every intention of having her again.
"So, are we going out or what?"
* * *
Six months later, Rachel once again had what she wanted. The book was
done and making the rounds of the publishers. When Mark wasn't busy trying
not to fall in love with her sister, he was stirring up a buzz for the biography
like none she'd ever witnessed. She'd already fielded four offers from other
celebrities to ghostwrite their life stories from women, thankfully. Rachel
had only survived the painful recounting of Aiden's many conquests because
he'd chronicled his lovers with the same consideration, care, and detail as
he'd used to seduce her all over again. Though until tonight, seduce had been
a relative word.
Over the last twenty-four weeks, he'd barely touched her. Instead, he'd
ensnared her with his words, his sweet gestures, his selfless actions his
utter and total celibacy. Since that first day trip when they'd bought
muffulettas at the Central Grocery and eaten them on a bench on the
Moonwalk the French Quarter behind them and the Mississippi River
raging in front of them he'd had no woman in his life but her.
Not one woman. Not on the phone. Not in his apartment. Not in his bed.
Until tonight.
"Is this too tight?"
The clicking of the lock accompanied the soft, fuzzy feel of the shackle
against her skin. "I'll live."
She tugged at the cuffs, securely fastened to his bedposts. A thrill ran
through her body, tightening her breasts, inflaming her flesh from the arch of
her neck to the sweet folds between her thighs. She'd willingly become his
captive, finally ready to explore the electric need arcing and slicing through
her body, her soul all for Aiden.
"Awfully sure of yourself, aren't you?" she asked.
"Haven't you been listening all these months? I've finally got you in my
bed and properly bound so you can't get away. Tonight, I intend to take rule
number three to a whole new level."
Aiden's promise skimmed on a hot breath across her lips, just before he
teased her with a whisper of a kiss. Never leave a woman unsatisfied. As if
he ever could. Even Rachel, who'd come to him hell-bent on revenge, had
quickly softened to his unique magnetism. That day on the Moonwalk, he'd
admitted that from the first moment he'd seen her from across the room at the
party, he'd been enthralled by her. Pure, chemical attraction had fired him
that night but something more had sent him running, clinging to his
playboy ways so he wouldn't have to deal with the emotional emptiness of
his life.
But the past six months had brimmed with emotions. First, friendship.
Then affection, genuine caring, and mutual respect. As time progressed, the
sexual tension sparking between them had been harder and harder to fight,
but they'd both succeeded until tonight. Until Aiden convinced Rachel that
turnabout was indeed more than just fair play. It could be utterly delicious.
"And rule number four?" she asked.
"Deleted, I'm afraid. I love you, Rachel. And now I intend to show you
how much."
"For how long?"
"For how long will I keep you tied and at my sensual mercy?" Wicked
delight danced in his dark eyes, spawning a hot, wet thrill to flow through
Rachel's body.
She shook her head. "For how long will you love me?"
Aiden's grin wasn't teasing, wasn't seductive, wasn't anything but honest.
"For as long as you'll have me, love. You may be the one who's tied, but I'm
the one at your mercy." He plucked the peacock feather from the bag beside
the bed, then twirled the quill just above her belly. "You can love me back, or
you can break my heart. But either way, you'll be the love of my life
forever."
Rachel attempted to swallow, but emotion swelled her throat. She did love
Aiden. How could she not? He'd opened his mind, heart, and soul to her
and to the possibility of a real relationship. She couldn't be entirely sure
where this seduction would lead, but she was, quite literally, bound and
determined to find out.

The End