A Trap So Tender Read online

  “This situation does not sound good. How do you know your dad would even appreciate what you’re doing? You barely know him.”

  Crystal’s comment stung like a slap. “I’ve been spending a lot of time with him.”

  “He could have come and visited you in California when you were a kid. But he chose not to.”

  “It’s complicated.” Every year she’d hoped and prayed for a visit and imagined it in her mind. She begged her mom to take her to Singapore, but it was too expensive. Every year there had been excuses. She knew her mom and dad had had a very bitter divorce, and she suspected her mom just wanted to forget he ever existed.

  No more. Now she could finally share her birthday with her dad, or phone him just to say hi the way she’d always dreamed.

  “I think it’s great that you’re trying to reach out to your dad, and I know you mean well, Fi, but I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “I can take care of myself, thank you.” She wished she hadn’t called Crystal in the first place. “In the meantime, I’m having an interesting vacation in Scotland.”

  “It certainly sounds that way. I can’t wait to hear more juicy details as they occur.”

  * * *

  Since she now knew that dinner was an elegant affair served by waitstaff in the magnificent oak-paneled dining room, she donned a black knee-length dress and put on a pair of pearl earrings—smart, but not too over the top. Thank goodness for the little black dress.

  Anticipation flickered in her nerves and muscles as she applied lipstick and eyeliner. Two kisses already meant that a third was a virtual certainty. While a casual observer might think this could make it easier to ask him to sell her the factory, she couldn’t help thinking that it made the situation way more complicated and awkward. Especially since he had no idea she’d ever even heard of the factory.

  A knock on the door made her suck in a breath. “Come in.”

  The door swung open. “Dinner’s ready.” James stood in the doorway, elegant as usual in a dark jacket and pants, with a crisp pale shirt. How odd that they were both dressed up to eat dinner at home with no guests. This truly was a different world.

  “You look beautiful.” His slow, steady gaze swept from her head to her black Manolo slingbacks.

  “Thanks. You’re cute, too.” She resisted the urge to giggle. This felt like a date, with great expectations. When she was with James, it seemed natural to flirt a little with him. Even the kissing didn’t feel strange. Not until later when she was alone and trying to get her plans back on track.

  Tonight’s mission: let him know she wanted a piece of property in Singapore in the exact location where the factory was. “I’m almost ready.” She pretended to touch up her lipstick. She didn’t want to seem as if she was jumping to attention too quickly. Better to act casual and nonchalant, as if nothing really mattered much.

  “Any time you take is obviously well spent.” The appreciation in his eyes heated her skin from across the room. It made her feel beautiful. Which was weird because she wasn’t used to feeling more than, well, above average. She tried to look smart, and she was blessed with a trim body, but her looks weren’t really…va-va-voom. Men didn’t usually turn their heads or spill their drinks when she entered a room.

  But James made her feel as if that could happen.

  “Do you always eat sitting at that big table with people waiting on you hand and foot?”

  “When I’m here, yes.”

  “Don’t you ever want to eat in front of the TV or something?” She walked past him out of the room. Heat rose through her as their bodies drew close.

  “I might, but I don’t. Tradition. And the staff here have little enough to do. I don’t want them all feeling neglected and handing in their notice.”

  “Now you’re thinking like a businessman.”

  “This estate is more of a business than a home to me.”

  He walked a step behind her, and she shivered slightly when she felt his hand settle into the small of her back. “That’s sad when you think of how many people must have lived—and died—here. Each room and piece of furniture has so much history.”

  “Some of the many reasons why I like my new-build condo in Singapore.” He caught up with her and she saw his wicked smile. “I can relax without being surrounded by people—living or dead—with expectations.”

  She frowned, partly because her attention had settled on a huge painting of a young man next to a stag, in a woodland setting. The painting filled the end of the corridor and was over life-size. From the man’s clothing she could tell it was eighteenth century. “That painting is stunning.”

  “I suppose so. All I notice is the way his eyes follow you as you walk past.”

  She squinted at it. “But he’s looking off to the side.”

  “Not the man. The stag.” He swung sideways and headed down the stairs. She paused for a moment. The stag was staring right at her with big, liquid brown eyes. “Goodness.” She hurried after him. “I see what you mean. There’s a lot of pressure coming from different directions.” She glanced over her shoulder to see if the giant beast was still watching her. He was. “What did you say the family motto was, again?”

  “Keep your blade sharp.” He grimaced slightly. “Good advice in the business world.”

  “At least you can cut your losses quickly with a sharp blade.” She was trying to lighten the mood, but James stopped and stared at her.

  “Yes, you can.” Then he frowned and continued down the stairs.

  * * *

  As expected, dinner was an elegant repast at the long, polished table. She asked him questions about managing the estate, partly to learn more about him but mostly because she was burning with curiosity about how such an archaic endeavor worked in the twenty-first century.

  “So the estate is self-supporting?” It was hard to believe the thousands of sheep that kept the grass neatly mowed also paid most of the bills.

  “Only just. The market in organic wool fluctuates from season to season. I’ve been told the next step is to start producing our own luxury products, sweaters and such, but I don’t have the appetite for that kind of business.”

  “Why not?”

  “Not enough volume. The luxury business is all about producing and selling small amounts of goods with a high margin. That’s not scalable enough to pique my interest.”

  “But you own luxury hotels and buildings. Surely that’s similar.”

  “Nope.” He sipped his wine. “In addition to collecting income from wealthy lovers of luxury, you are also sitting on a long-term gold mine. My grandfather’s mantra was ‘never sell the land!’ and I’ve taken that to heart. The land is where true value lies, long-term.”

  Fiona cut her roast beef, heart pounding. She was already pretty sure he’d jumped on her father’s factory for the land under it. What would he want with an outdated garment factory? How would she convince him to part with that land if his personal beliefs told him to clutch it to his chest? “Surely you sometimes sell property.”

  “Hardly ever.” He smiled. “At least not yet. I suppose there might always be a price I couldn’t resist.”

  She smiled back, already feeling a tingle of relief. “Would it have to be a very high price?”

  “Oh, yes. Something more than money.” He leaned back in his chair. “And I’d never part with this place, of course. No matter how much I sometimes want to.”

  “That would be like selling your own DNA.”

  “I’d part with my own DNA sooner. Let them use it for research purposes. My cells will make more DNA.” He’d finished eating and simply sat, watching her.

  She put down her knife and fork. It was time to take her plan to the next level. Butterflies danced in her stomach, which didn’t go well with the roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. “Something more than money.” She raised a brow, hoping it looked flirtatious rather than accusatory. “Like a dare, perhaps?”

  He tilted his head, obviously intrigued. �
��I can’t say anyone’s ever made an offer like that. I might have to consider it.”

  She worked hard to keep her breathing steady. She didn’t want to move too fast and have him put the pieces together. “Well, I am looking for a new project. Since you obviously have a keen eye for opportunity, I’m thinking I should steal one of your cunning ideas for my next business.”

  He laughed. “I suspect you can come up with something far more interesting on your own.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. Your expertise might be a complement to mine and produce something better than either of us could do alone.” It wasn’t easy to think business with James looking right at her with unconcealed desire in his gaze. Worse yet, his striking good looks and sharp mind made arousal bubble up inside her and no doubt gleam very obviously in her eyes. “You’ve already built a firm foothold in Singapore, for example, whereas I’m new to the place and still trying to figure it out.”

  “Singapore is on the cutting edge of the known world.” He obviously appreciated her interest in his chosen home away from home. “A meeting place for minds and products from all over the world.”

  “Every container ship filled with goods has to pass right by it, due to simple quirks of geography.”

  His eyes sparkled. “Exactly. Until someone invents hovering aircraft to carry container loads of goods, it will continue to be the preeminent international gateway.”

  “Hmm.” She pretended to chew her lip thoughtfully. “Maybe I should get back to work on my goods-transportation aircraft plan.”

  “I’d be the first to invest.”

  Or try to steal my business. She managed to keep a straight face. “But as you said, I don’t have an appetite for that kind of business. I enjoy spotting trends and defining style. I think my next step will be into retail.” Her brain was running like a sprinter. She’d visited her dad’s old factory, which was a dated and decrepit one-story building on a down-at-heel street, only one block away from a glittering retail strip. It would be a fantastic spot for a hotel, but she couldn’t fake an entry into that realm. Too far away from where she was now. “I’ve learned a lot about branding and creating something hip from my decal business, and I thought I might dip my toes into the fashion industry.”

  “Creating product, or reselling someone else’s?”

  “Maybe both, with a strong internet presence and a flagship store in Singapore.” On the exact spot where her father’s factory stood. “I have a lot of ideas for the clothing, so I want to start by finding the right space for my store.”

  She hoped her nose wasn’t growing. Her blood pressure was certainly rising, along with that infuriating pulse of arousal that kept surging through her whenever their eyes met. If only they hadn’t kissed already! It was painful to remember how quickly and totally her body had responded to his. Chemistry, that’s all it was. Something that could be replicated in a lab and probably switched on and off at will in a group of unwitting test mice. She could control it, and even use it to her advantage.

  “I certainly know Singapore well enough to suggest some ideal locations. We’ll have to walk around together next time we’re there.”

  “Excellent.”

  * * *

  James took Fiona’s hand and led her into the library. He’d sent the staff away early, to ensure them total privacy. He had a strong sense of something important and momentous about to happen. “Would you like a drink?”

  “If you’re having one.” She smiled and sat on the wide leather sofa. She was being too polite and he could tell she still felt uncomfortable in the unfamiliar environment. He wanted to put her at ease.

  “Champagne is good for every occasion, in my opinion. Let’s celebrate the birth of your next business venture.” He pulled a bottle from the fridge concealed behind wood paneling.

  “Isn’t that somewhat premature?” She crossed her shapely legs, sending a jolt of heat to his groin.

  “Not at all. The most important part of a new business is the idea. Once you have that, everything can grow organically from there.”

  “So now I just need to add fertilizer and water?” She smiled as she took the champagne flute.

  “Exactly.” He sat next to her. The hairs on his thighs prickled with sensation at being so close to her. There was something different about Fiona. She didn’t simper and coo and flirt as so many girls he met did. She was serious and thoughtful and funny. And very beautiful.

  She raised her chin as she tilted her glass, and desire swelled inside him as her soft pink mouth closed around the glass. He longed to feel her lips pressed to his again. Arousal had throbbed inside him like a dull ache all afternoon, and he’d determined not to act on it again. He’d already moved too fast, and he didn’t want to scare her off.

  She might be the one.

  Excitement flashed in his chest at the thought. Could he finally be about to choose a partner and start a family? It didn’t seem possible. He’d told himself for so long that it wasn’t meant to be. Since he’d met Fiona suddenly all his thoughts had shifted and rearranged themselves like furniture in a house that’d been redecorated by a keen-eyed designer. Things that seemed pointless, foolish and impossible just a week ago now gleamed with exciting possibilities.

  And he had to be careful not to blow it.

  Her dark hair, shiny and silky, swung forward as she placed her glass on the coffee table. He wanted to run his fingers through it. But he resisted and took another sip of champagne. “How did you learn to ride?” Another delicious surprise.

  “The same way everyone else does. I took lessons.” She smiled. “I’m rusty now. Haven’t even sat on a horse for a couple of years.”

  “You certainly handled Taffy like a pro.”

  “Taffy was a very gracious host. I felt like a medieval princess up on such a huge horse, galloping through a remote landscape. I can’t wait to do it again.”

  “Neither can I.” Riding with Fiona was one more item on a rapidly unfurling list of things he couldn’t wait to do. But kissing her had risen to the top.

  One kiss, no more. He had to be a gentleman. She was his guest and despite their sudden intimacy, they’d known each other only a few days. The wait would be well worthwhile if she were as perfect for him as he’d begun to suspect.

  Before he had time to think it through, his mouth met hers. Heat flashed over him as he drew her close, finally giving in to the urge that had bedeviled him since their kiss earlier that day. The scent of her drove him insane, and he had no idea why. Her slim, athletic body felt sensational in his arms, and before he knew it one of his hands was exploring her well-toned thigh and backside, and a raw shudder of lust rippled through him.

  She kissed him back with passion that stoked the flames ripping and rising inside him. He could feel her hands tugging at his shirt, and he gasped with pleasure as her cool fingers met the skin of his back. Before he knew it his own fingers had caught hold of the zipper on the back of her dress and were exploring the soft skin beneath it.

  Get a grip, James.

  But he couldn’t. Fiona’s hands now wandered into his waistband, making him inhale sharply as his erection thickened. She sighed in his ear, a soft, sweet sound that made all sensible thoughts fly from his brain. Oh, Fiona. He wasn’t sure if he said the words aloud or not. Reality seemed very far away, though he was keenly aware of helping her out of the fitted black dress that hugged her trim curves so enticingly.

  Naked on the sofa except for her sleek black bra and panties, she was an unbearable temptation, desire shining in her dark brown eyes and a flush of arousal darkening her cheeks.

  She unbuttoned his shirt and tugged it off, then licked his chest in a way that made him groan unexpectedly. He returned the favor by removing her bra and letting his tongue explore the sweet curve of her breasts and the elegant arch of her neck.

  Her fingers sent shock waves of heat traveling through him everywhere he touched, and his erection was now rock hard. As she helped him out of his pants, he knew this w
as heading in one direction and one direction only.

  “We need a condom,” he managed to rasp, clinging to the last shreds of common sense. He knew he had some in his bedroom, but that seemed a thousand miles away.

  “Don’t worry. I have it covered.” She didn’t hesitate for a second, her hands now tugging at his underwear and releasing his very obvious arousal. Her mouth moved over his erection, and he wondered if he was going to lose consciousness entirely as she licked and sucked him into a state of near madness.

  Her body was both soft and firm, enticing and athletic, and he ached to wrap himself around it and sink in.

  Which he did.

  Fiona’s sweet sighs almost undid him as he entered her as gently as he could. She responded immediately, lifting her hips and joining with him in a rhythm that started out slow and deliberate, like a waltz, then grew more and more frantic and frenzied, a crazy tango, until they were shifting positions and pressing their skin against every part of the sofa in an effort to prolong and sustain the intense and erotic pleasure that flowed between them.

  It took every ounce of his honor, manhood and self-control to hold back until Fiona climaxed, then he let go with a sense of relief he’d never felt before. They crashed together onto the now-sticky leather and held each other tight, gasping and groaning and soaking in the waves of incredible pleasure.

  She’s the one.

  He knew it as he knew his own name. He didn’t love her, or anything so simple and prosaic as that. He didn’t even know what love was. But he knew he could spend his life with this woman. Something about her touched a raw nerve deep inside him, and obviously tapped a rich vein of desire. So much for his silent pledges to be a gentleman.

  He laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I was going to keep my hands off you tonight.”

  “You failed miserably.”

  “I know. And that doesn’t happen often. I must be losing my mind.” He kissed her soft cheek, pleasure and happiness swelling in his heart.