Landon (Swanson Court Book 4) Read online

  I open the door for her. When she’s inside, I resist the urge to kiss her again. “See you soon.”

  “Yeah,” she replies softly. “See you soon.”

  Aidan assures me he’s fine.

  “Stop fretting,” he groans, but then his eyes light up. “Let’s talk about Rachel. I like her.”

  “Good,” I say wryly. “I like her too.”

  He studies me with raised eyebrows, and his eyes dance with a familiar mischief. “But…she’s not your girlfriend, and it’s not as defined as that?”

  “Pretty much. We’re good together. That’s really all it is.”

  “It’s hard to believe you’re okay with that,” he says. “You seem really into her.”

  I am really into her. I’m more than into her, and thankfully, she’s mine.

  For now.

  I ignore the voice and change the subject. “Liz was great tonight.”

  Aidan looks down at his glass. “She’s a talented actress.”

  I wonder again if Rachel is right about his feelings for Liz. What would that mean for the play? Has anything happened between them already? I remember the cabin, and the problem he wouldn’t share with me. Did it have anything to do with her?

  Stop hovering.

  “If today is any indication, on opening night, we’ll be talking about the Tony Awards.”

  His chest rises. “Yeah…we’ll see how it goes.”

  After I leave Aidan hours later, I go home to my empty apartment. My mind goes to Rachel, and I can still feel her disappointment from earlier.

  I’m not the only one who would have liked the night to end some other way—namely, with us in bed, together.

  As the image fixes itself in my mind, it becomes impossible to think of anything else. I pour myself a drink and try to focus on other things, but it’s no use.

  I’m halfway to her apartment before I even realize what I’m doing.

  She’ll think I’m crazy.

  She’ll think I’m obsessed with her. Which I totally am.

  Regardless, I park outside her building and call her phone.

  “Hey.” The sound of her voice chases away all my reservations.

  “Did I wake you?”

  “No, I wasn’t asleep.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing. I’m just lying in bed.”

  “Alone?” I’m only half joking.

  “Very funny.”

  I chuckle. “Were you thinking of me?”

  “What if I were?”

  “I’d tell you I was thinking about you too. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all night.”

  I hear her inhale. “You should stop.” She exhales. “You’re in danger of starting to sound romantic.”

  Would that be so bad? “Do you have anything against romance?”

  “Not really.” Her voice is a whisper. “Do you?”

  I shake my head. “I cannot be opposed to anything that would bring you pleasure.”

  “My world is officially rocked,” she says with a chuckle.

  I laugh softly. “Did you have a good time tonight?”

  “Mmhmm. I loved the play, and Aidan is really great.”

  “I think he may have fallen in love with you. He’s usually more reserved with women.”

  She’s laughing again. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “It is. I’d have to challenge him to a duel or something.”

  “You wouldn’t!”

  “I’d have to.” I let out a deep breath. “I want to see you.”

  There’s a pause. “Now?”

  “I know it’s late, and you should be asleep, but I’m outside your building looking up at your window, wondering what the fuck is wrong with me.”

  “You’re here?” In a matter of moments, she’s at the window.

  I climb out of the car. “Can I come up?”

  “Yes!”

  She buzzes me in, and I hurry up the stairs. I’m halfway up when she opens the door, dressed in a loose tank top and shorts. Her face is scrubbed clean of makeup, and she looks as fresh as a spring blossom. Grabbing her, I kiss her soundly, the way I’ve been aching to do all night.

  She melts into my arms. Still kissing her, I nudge her inside and close the door behind us.

  I finally release her to catch my breath. “Thanks for letting me up. I’d have felt very much like a fool if I had to drive back home.”

  She laughs softly, amused. “I doubt you’ve ever felt like a fool.”

  “No, but around you, it’s hard to know how I feel.”

  Her eyes search my face, for what, I’m not sure. “I’m glad I have such an effect on you.”

  “I kept thinking about San Francisco, about falling asleep with you in my arms.” I stroke her cheek. “What were you thinking earlier? When you were thinking about me.”

  “I was wondering what you were doing.”

  “Only that?” I trail gentle kisses along her neck. “You weren’t thinking about my lips on your skin, like this?” She lets out a soft moan and I keep going, retracing the path of my kisses. “Were you thinking about me kissing you, my fingers touching you?” I slide my fingers over her smooth thighs.

  “Is that what you were thinking?”

  I grin. “Always. All the time. Everywhere.” I slide my hand inside her loose shorts and cup her between her legs. She’s wet, and my fingers slide easily between her folds, stroking gently.

  Her responsiveness is incredibly arousing. I find a nipple through the fabric of her top and pull it with my teeth. She moans, and I lift her off the ground and carry her to her bed.

  I strip off my clothes while she watches me, waiting. Impatiently, I join her, kissing her all over as I pull off her top.

  Her breasts are enchanting, and I give them the attention they deserve. At the same time, I tug her shorts aside and stroke her slickness with my fingers, and when she spreads her legs wider, I slide my fingers inside.

  Her eyes flutter closed, her hips moving in time with my fingers. I’m aching to taste her, so I get rid of her shorts then bury my head between her legs.

  Her reaction is exquisite. She cries out, her hips undulating, her fingers clutching at my hair. I don’t stop until she’s screaming, her body jerking uncontrollably. I keep working her with my fingers and mouth until the tremors stop. Then, spreading her legs a little more, I position myself and enter her.

  I hold her tight, reveling in the sound of my name dropping from her lips in soft moans. Her pleasure is like a drug, egging me on, and I bring her to climax after climax until I can’t hold back anymore. I let go of all my control, losing myself in her heat until my mind shuts down in a shattering release.

  Then I hold her in my arms like the treasure she is until we both fall asleep.

  Chapter 16

  A few weeks ago, having lunch with a beautiful woman on the terrace of a five-star restaurant in Geneva with panoramic views of Lake Geneva spread out below us would likely have ended only one way.

  Now, though, even as Madeleine Fortrand, newly widowed and perfectly groomed, makes her availability clear to me across the table, all I can think about is Rachel.

  Sweet, beautiful Rachel.

  I’m obsessed with her, and she’s mine.

  It should make me happy, should give me some sort of satisfaction, but I want something more, something even I can’t define.

  “You must think I’m fickle,” Madeline purrs in French, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Changing my mind about selling the hotel. It’s just…it meant so much to my late husband.”

  Stifling my snort, I give her a charming smile. Her much older, recently dead husband is very likely the last thing on her mind right now. I want to buy the hotel he left to her. She agreed to sell weeks ago, and now, for some reason, she has changed her mind. “Do you want more money?” I ask in the same language.

  She gives me a wounded look. “I’ve already told your lawyer it’s not about the money.”

  I s
mile to mask my impatience. I got sick of her giving Alex the runaround and decided to come to her myself. “So what is it you want, Madeleine?”

  “It’s not every day a man like you flies across the Atlantic just to change my mind.” She holds my gaze. “Don’t ruin it by talking business.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “What would you rather I talked about?”

  There’s no mistaking the invitation in her eyes. “I’m sure you can think of something.”

  Only slightly amused, I humor her. I want her hotel, and she—she is a bored socialite who wants to be persuaded, charmed, and convinced. I can give her that, but what would she want after? A night or two at the home that’s been scrubbed clean of every memory of her late husband?

  Not long ago, depending on my mood, I would have taken her up on her unspoken offer without giving her a single thought afterward. Now, I just want to get my contracts signed so I can leave.

  Still, I indulge her throughout lunch. She does most of the talking, and I play the part of a patient, attentive listener.

  I’m not in the least bit surprised when she dabs her mouth daintily halfway through dessert.

  “It’s been so great talking to you, Landon Court.” She starts to rise. “We should have dinner tonight at my place and talk a bit more. I will rethink your offer and have an answer by then.”

  I narrow my eyes, all the charm of earlier replaced by a cold demeanor that causes her to stop in her tracks.

  “Sit, Madeleine.”

  Shocked at my tone, she does as I say.

  “We’re not having dinner.” My voice is cold. “You will take my offer, which, in case you have forgotten, is the best you’ve got. Our lawyers are here with the contracts. I can see you have no real objections to the deal. So, no more games. You can either sign right now, or you’ll never hear from us again.”

  She stares at me. “I don’t—”

  “I’m a busy man, Mrs. Fortrand, and I don’t take kindly to people wasting my time, believe me. I want those contracts signed. I didn’t come all the way here just for the pleasure of your company.”

  She flinches at my tone. “Fine.”

  I make a call and Alex shows up, her lawyer close behind. With a sulky expression, Madeleine signs the papers.

  “It’s all granite underneath the charm, I see.” She gives me a tight smile.

  My shrug communicates that I don’t care what she thinks about me. “You can have more wine if you like.”

  She shakes her head. “All this business has given me a headache. I’m going home.” She rises, then stops. “Ava led me to believe this would be more enjoyable. Apparently, she doesn’t know you as well as she thinks.”

  I don’t react to Ava’s name, or even ask her to clarify. I watch her walk away, scowling internally.

  Ava.

  What is she trying to achieve?

  A waiter comes to offer me a dark coffee, and I take it, contemplating calling Ava. I should ignore her, but I want to know what game she’s playing.

  Her cell rings for a few moments before I hear her voice.

  “Landon! What a surprise, and a coincidence. I’ve just been talking about you.”

  “No need to guess with whom, I suppose.”

  Her tinkling laugh fills my ears. “Don’t be grumpy.”

  “What did you hope to gain?”

  She sighs. “I set the stage for you to loosen up a little. A beautiful widow, an exotic location, good wine. The Landon I know would have left poor Madeleine a few good memories.”

  There’s a pause. A long time ago, I might have been amused. Now, I’m just annoyed.

  “So…this girl in New York…” she continues. “You’re serious about her?”

  I close my eyes in disbelief. “You could have asked.”

  “I did, and you didn’t give me an answer.”

  “Because, Ava, what’s going on in my life is none of your business.”

  “Anymore,” she adds. “There was a time when it was.”

  “Maybe somewhere between your numerous marriages, things changed.”

  “Between my marriages, we made many good memories, Landon.” She stops. “Are you still angry that I left you?”

  “If I remember correctly, you proposed, I refused, and a week later you were married to some second-rate driver.”

  “Rafe.” She giggles. “He nearly killed himself trying to make it to Formula One. Anyway, I want to meet this girl. How well does she know you? Or is she one of those girls carried away by the pretty face and bags of money?”

  I’m missing Rachel too much to listen to Ava even allude to her. “Good night, Ava.”

  “It’s morning where I am. I’m in Colombia.”

  “Okay.”

  “Don’t you want to know who I’m with?”

  “No.”

  “His name is Jorge, and he’s a stud rancher. Also, a stud.”

  I don’t have time to hear about her idle pursuits and entertain her manipulative tendencies. “Goodbye,” I say firmly.

  Why does she care so much about Rachel and me?

  Knowing Ava, she’s likely just bored and playing games, and I have better things to do than to indulge her.

  My coffee is getting cold, and I take a sip. My phone is still in my hand, and I hit Rachel’s number. In a moment, her voice pulls me all the way back to her side.

  “Hey.”

  Closing my eyes, I let the sound wash over me. She calms me and soothes me without trying, without even being aware. “I thought you might be asleep,” I whisper. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing. What’re you doing?”

  “Having an early lunch.”

  “How was your flight?”

  “Uneventful.” I shrug. “I spent the whole afternoon trying to convince someone who suddenly changed her mind about selling me a property.”

  “Did you succeed?”

  I remember Madeleine’s face as she walked away from our table. “Barely.”

  Rachel doesn’t reply. I want to ask her what she’s thinking. I wish I were right there, beside her.

  “The next issue of Gilt Traveler will be out soon,” she tells me, “with the article about your hotel.”

  “I’m looking forward to reading it.”

  The waiter returns to refill my coffee and ask me if I want anything else. I ask for the bill instead. On the other side of the call, Rachel is quiet.

  “Baby, are you there?”

  “I’m here,” she whispers.

  Something in her tone sets off alarm bells in my head. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” She sighs. “Brett and Laurie… He told her they needed a break. She’s been crying all night.”

  I’m shocked. I’d started to think of Rachel’s cousin and her boyfriend as a solid unit. I’ve even envied them their closeness. “Did he say why?”

  “Long story,” Rachel replies. “He says she has trust issues…thinks if she’s not happy then what’s the point? But she’s miserable without him, and he knew she would be. Why would you hurt someone purposely when you’re supposed to love them?”

  Trust issues—two words that are easy to dismiss when you have no experience of where they can lead. Two little kids watching their mom die, for example.

  I push my memories away. “I wouldn’t know, but if she doesn’t trust him, maybe it’s for the best.”

  Rachel doesn’t like that answer, and I don’t blame her. “You’re not here, Landon. She’s miserable.”

  Better to be miserable now than do something irrational later. “She’ll get over it.”

  Rachel makes a sound of frustration. “You don’t understand. They’ve been together for four years! You can’t just get over someone you’ve loved for so long. It’s not that easy.”

  She would know, of course. An unbidden image of Rachel crying in an elevator flashes in my mind. Rachel across from a table with Weyland in San Francisco.

  Jealousy flares, poisoning my insides.

  “Well…you are spea
king from experience.”

  She doesn’t reply or try to deny that she still has feelings for Weyland. Of course she does, I think bitterly. She loves him, and me? I’m just the poor sucker who provides the sex in the meantime.

  I close my eyes, ashamed of the meanness of my thoughts. “Give Laurie my best.”

  “I will.” There’s a pause. “Do you know when you’ll be back?”

  “Weekend, at the latest. Why don’t you try to get some rest before you have to go to work? We’ll talk some other time.”

  She does as I say.

  I spend the next few days taking advantage of my presence in Europe to resolve a few business interests. I talk to Rachel every night and send a gift to cheer Laurie up.

  Rachel doesn’t mention my comment implying she is still hung up on Weyland.

  I don’t mention it either.

  But I’m still thinking about it and torturing myself with the idea that Jack is waiting in the wings for Rachel.

  It’s not like I want to keep her forever, I tell myself. It’s just…he’s an asshole, and she deserves better.

  As soon as I land in New York on Saturday, I call Rachel.

  “Hello, hotness,” she purrs into the phone.

  “Mmm, hotness—I like that.”

  I imagine the smile on her face, the dimple dancing on her cheek.

  I’ve missed you, Rachel.

  “Are you back?”

  “Just arrived.” And I’m dying to devour you. “Where are you?”

  “At my parents’ place.”

  “Where is that?”

  She laughs. “I thought you knew everything about me.”

  “It’s probably in a file somewhere,” I admit, “but you can tell me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to see you.”

  “I’ll be back by evening.”

  Evening feels like forever. “I can’t wait that long,” I tell her. “I want to come over.”

  “To my parents’ house?” She sounds not only surprised, but hesitant.

  “Is that a problem?”

  “I don’t think you want to meet my parents.”

  Because we’re not in a real relationship? Because we’re only each other’s booty calls? Because I’m not Jack? Don’t assume, Landon. I take a breath. “Why not?”