My Secret Life Read online

  “Where’s the fun in remorse?”

  She winked. He loved the way her conspiratorial winks made him feel as they shared a gigantic secret. She looked adorable—grinning up at him, hair tousled, dimples dug deep in her cheeks.

  To hell with self-control, to hell with restraint. He’d spent too many years holding back where his love life was concerned. He took a step closer.

  She reached up to tuck a hank of hair behind one ear.

  “I’m going to kiss you,” he announced.

  She placed her index fingers to her lips. “No, not tonight. Wait.”

  “Wait for what?” Impatience tugged at him. He didn’t want to wait. He wanted her now.

  “Our secret rendezvous.”

  “What secret rendezvous?”

  “The one we’re going to have on Monday afternoon during your lunch hour.”

  “I usually work on my lunch hour.”

  “But you won’t,” she said. “Not this Monday.”

  “And why not?”

  “Because I have something totally erotic in store for you.” She touched the tip of her tongue to her upper lip and arched against his body. “You’re going to meet me in front of the Town Crier Theatre in the historical district at noon.”

  He was hard for her instantly, mindless with desire. He could barely take in air, much less swallow past the cast-iron lump in his throat. “And what,” he croaked, “will we be doing?”

  “Come prepared—” she said the word soft and slow “—to do the forbidden.”

  8

  COME PREPAREDto do the forbidden.

  Katie’s scintillating parting comment echoed in his head. Did she have any idea how totally provocative those words were? Liam had lain awake all night, his brain conjuring a myriad of tantalizing possibilities. His curiosity was aroused, his blood stirred, his dormant sense of adventured stoked. His body prickled with heightened anticipation.

  The woman had one hell of a creative imagination.

  Just before noon on Monday afternoon, Liam paced the sidewalk outside the Town Crier Theatre wondering what delicious treats she had in store for him.

  The theatre was running a weeklong retrospective of Clark Gable films. The movie du jour, according to the marquee, was It Happened One Night.

  Fitting.

  The title made him think of the one night he’d spent in the cloak closet with Katie. His mouth was dry from the memory. His hip pocket was stuffed with condoms and his anxiety was off the charts. She had him crazed with lust for her.

  Five minutes passed. Then ten.

  He checked his watch repeatedly. Eleven minutes. Twelve. His spirits plummeted. Had she stood him up? Or was making him wait part of her wicked game?

  If that was the case, she’d won. His self-control—the thing he prided himself on most—was totally shot.

  Just when Liam was about to give up and go to the office to try to get some work done, he saw her, strutting up the sidewalk toward him with the confidence of a runway model.

  She was dressed all in black, which created an erotic contrast to her wheat-blond hair. She wore a tight black sweater cut so low it was barely legal and, clearly, she was not wearing a bra. The square of black leather posing as a skirt was barely bigger than a cup towel. She had on black patterned stockings and black stilettos so high it was a miracle she could walk in them.

  Every guy on that Boston sidewalk was turning to stare at her.

  Enthralled, Liam’s jaw dropped and his pupils widened. He was desperate to see more of her. Adrenaline mixed with testosterone. The combo blasted through his veins like a fiery virus, infecting him with a level of lust the likes of which he’d never experienced.

  She passed right by him. At first he thought she hadn’t seen him, but then he got that it was all part of her erotic role-playing game.

  Be prepared to do the forbidden.

  She sashayed up to the ticket counter, bought her ticket and strolled inside without a backward look.

  His cock turned to stone.

  He followed suit. Buying a ticket and then following her inside the darkened theatre. At twelve o’clock on a weekday afternoon, they were the only two people in the lobby.

  The theatre had been fully restored in the cinema heyday of when it had been built. The carpeting was colorful and lavishly patterned. The gold-plated lighting fixtures gleamed, polished to a high sheen. A black-and-white art-deco cat clock on the wall behind the concession stand ticked off the moments until show time. Three, two, one.

  The smell of freshly popped popcorn filled the air. Katie stopped and bought a box of three-dollar jelly beans from the elderly woman behind the counter. She opened the box of candy and stood in silhouette so he could watch her pop one into her mouth and suck leisurely on it.

  Liam quelled a groan.

  “Would you like a sweet treat, sir?” the woman asked as Katie walked away.

  “No, thanks.” He shook his head. There was only one sweet treat he wanted and she was escaping.

  The woman nodded, went back to perch on her stool in the corner and picked up the romance novel she’d been reading. Liam went after Katie.

  She did not go in through the main entrance. Rather, she made a beeline for the marble stairs leading up into the balcony.

  Thick red velvet ropes stationed on either side of the steps barred access to the lofty seating. But Katie wasn’t allowing a measly stretch of cable to deter her. She winnowed around the rope, keeping to the strip of carpet running down the middle of the gray marble to blunt the sound of her high heels. She swept elegantly up the staircase.

  Mesmerized, Liam flaunted the rules and tracked after her.

  She pushed back the red velvet curtain leading into the balcony. He did the same, slipping past the rope. His heart suddenly was pounding so loudly he feared the noise of it would echo throughout the empty theatre and alert the staff to their clandestine rendezvous.

  Once behind the curtain, he had to stop and let his eyes adjust to the darkness. The black-and-white movie was just starting, transporting them into a different era.

  After a couple of seconds, he spotted her, on the back row of the empty balcony, up high, right underneath the projector, so they couldn’t be spotted from the projection booth.

  Excitement twisting his gut, Liam sidled up the remaining steps and eased into the seat beside her.

  “Katie,” he gasped.

  “My name is Veronique,” she whispered in a seductive French accent. “And I do not need to know yours.”

  He felt the blood leave his head and rush pell-mell to deliver massive doses of testosterone to his groin.

  “What do you need, Veronique?” he found himself asking her huskily.

  “I need adventure.”

  “What kind of adventure?’

  “Forbidden adventure,” she murmured.

  Excitement trembled his hand. The scent of her invaded his nostrils. Her daring spirit clipped him hard. His muscles clenched. The tension was almost more than he could tolerate.

  His eyes met hers.

  In the darkness, in the heat of the moment, the black of her pupils grew so large they almost encompassed the azure blue of her irises. Was it his imagination, or were her lips trembling as much as his hands?

  Foolish as it might be, he had to have her.

  Liam realized how very little he knew about her, beyond the fact that she was one of those Winfields. The thought served to send his desire soaring.

  He’d never experienced excitement like this. Not in the boardroom, not when making a fabulous deal on a piece of renovated property, not being named Young Bostonian’s bachelor of the year. The closest he had ever come to this sensation was when he drove his Lamborghini over the speed limit.

  What a helluva ride.

  A sense of rash abandon shoved him headfirst into decadence. It was not an emotion he was familiar with. Liam was normally an expert at delayed gratification. But not today. Not with this amazing woman. If he lived to be a hund
red, he would never forget her.

  With one slender, well-manicured finger, she raked her nail along his jawline.

  Liam stifled a groan. Who knew a gentle scratch would feel so erotic? Katie’s stroking brought a whole new element of awareness into play as he imagined those sweet fingers investigating other, more vulnerable areas of his body.

  Her bold self-confidence inflamed him. She was a complex and complicated woman and he wanted to know everything about her. His hungry curiosity almost sent him over the brink of reason.

  What did she have up her sleeve?

  She’d started this seduction, this exotic tease, but damn if he wasn’t committed to finishing it.

  On the screen in front of them, Clark Gable flirted with Claudette Colbert, but Liam didn’t notice. He had eyes for only one woman.

  In the muted glow from the light of the projector, he studied Katie. She sent him a look that jammed his libido into hyperdrive, slowly licked her lips, and then leaned over the arm of her chair to lightly run that naughty tongue over his lips.

  Blood, fiery and indolent, pooled in his groin. Every nerved ending leaped as electrical impulses shot through the circuitry of his brain.

  The lovely Veronique tasted of licorice jelly beans and lusty woman. Their tongues tangoed. First she was the leader, muddling his senses, but then he took over, giving as good as he’d gotten. Making her mewl with escalating pleasure.

  He was back in control.

  Or at least he thought he was until she broke the kiss, pressed her mouth to his ear and whispered, “I’m not wearing panties.”

  Sweat slicked his brow, his chest, his thigh, and the pounding between his thighs intensified. His cock was damned stiff and sensitive, thrusting against the zipper of his slacks.

  Shamelessly, she pressed her bosom against his arm and kissed him again, her mouth gobbling up his as if she knew every single outlaw fantasy that crossed his mind.

  He brushed his hand against her breast and lightly pinched the nipple straining against the soft material. Her flesh beaded as hard as a pebble beneath his touch.

  She sucked in her breath with a sex-fueled hiss. “Oh, yeah.”

  “That’s it,” he murmured, proud of his masculine prowess. “Tell me what you like.”

  “I want your cock.” She slipped her hand down the front of his shirt to his waistband. Boldly, she eased down his zipper and reached inside.

  It was his turn to hiss in his breath.

  She nibbled his neck while her hand stroked his rock-hard flesh with a teasing caress. On screen, Clark was stringing up a blanket to separate him from Claudette.

  Knowing that they were making out in the balcony of a movie theatre, that any minute an usher could walk in and find them, was beyond exhilarating. It was forbidden, yes, but that’s what made it so awesome.

  Liam felt the pulse in her wrist leap hard and fast against the head of his penis and Liam knew Katie was just as turned on as he was.

  “I want you,” he growled. “Now.”

  “Wait,” she said huskily.

  He felt her fumble around in the darkness, heard the sound of something being unwrapped. Condom, he thought, and then she was rolling the rubber on his burgeoning cock.

  She straddled the arms of the chair he was sitting in, wrapped her hands around his neck and slowly eased herself down on the length of him. Instinctively, his hands went to span her waist, holding her in place and letting out his breath on a long, controlled exhale.

  Her wet moistness engulfed him and he was inside her. “Ride me.” His voice was gravel.

  “My pleasure.” She rode him hard and fast until they were soaring together, mindless of the noise they were making. Beyond caring who could hear.

  Liam was so crazy with desire for her he couldn’t stop himself. He had to do this. There was no other way out.

  Their joining was quick and urgent and very, very dangerous. Everything was borderless, open. They rolled into infinity, and every blissful inch felt right and good and true. Liam couldn’t distinguish who was inside whom. They were both inside, occupying the bones, skin, muscles, cells. Together, they spun.

  The tasty expanse of their union multiplied, swelling beyond comprehension. A harmonious, voiceless galaxy whirling quicker than the speed of sound.

  Past thinking, with no coherent thought in his head, he was nothing but cock and ass and balls.

  Alive with sensation.

  Relentlessly, Katie rocked into him. He was aching, gushing, throbbing. He had to bite down on his lip to keep from letting loose with a primal cry. To keep from begging for release from this glorious torture. From the rapture he could almost touch.

  Tingling. Humming. Rushing.

  Soon. Please, please let it be soon. It had better be or he’d implode.

  And then, just like that, it was upon him.

  Liam tumbled. Jerking and trembling into the abyss, hurtling. Lost. Enveloped by the chasm. The earth, the sky, the air, the ocean exploded in a ball of white-hot come.

  He blinked, befuddled.

  Katie collapsed. Sank her head against his.

  He wrapped his arms around her and they sat there, sweating, shuddering, panting for breath.

  The urgency was gone. His cock emptied. But his mind was one speeding thought after another. Adrift in a darkened world of squeaky theatre seats, red velvet curtains and the smell of buttered popcorn.

  They had traveled so far together, had shared such a forbidden intimacy that when they settled back into their separate selves, a fierce melancholy fell over him.

  Their lovemaking had been so remarkable that Liam did not know what to do now.

  They did not know each other. Not really. They possessed no common ground. No shared history or background in which to salvage their separateness. In the confines of the old theatre, with Clark kissing Claudette on screen, they navigated unknown terrain.

  Then, before he could make a move, Katie decided for him. She rose up from his lap, slipped from his grasp. “Give me a two-minute start before you follow.”

  Then she was gone.

  Several minutes later, as Liam left the theatre on legs so shaky he was amazed he could walk, he realized that this movie would always be branded in his brain as It Happened One Forbidden Afternoon.

  LIAM WAS SITTING in his office, scrunched down in his chair, staring out the window when a soft knock sounded and his door opened a crack.

  “Liam?”

  “Huh?” Liam jerked upright and blinked at his secretary Vanessa Gomez. She studied him with a look of motherly concern. “What is it?”

  “I don’t mean to overstep boundaries, but is there something unusual going on in your personal life?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “You’ve been very distracted lately and your moods are all over the place.” Vanessa was an impeccable employee. Forty-five, caramel-skinned, always professionally dressed and well put together. She also didn’t pry into his private life, not usually. But that could have been because up until now he hadn’t had much of a private life.

  “Sorry, my mind was elsewhere.” On his wild lunch-time encounter with Katie.

  “On the warehouse-condo renovations?”

  “Yeah,” he lied, “that’s it.”

  She crossed the room, settled some files on his desk. “These contracts need your signature.”

  “Thanks.” He nodded.

  Vanessa started to leave, but stopped at the door. “Oh, and one other thing.”

  “Yes?”

  “Finn Delancy’s secretary called from the mayor’s office.”

  “What?” He planted both palms on his desk and shot to his feet. Irrationally, his first thought was, He’s finally calling to acknowledge he’s my father. “When?”

  “Just a few minutes ago.” Her eyes narrowed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Liam said curtly, his pulse pounding in his temple. “What did Delancy want?”

  “Why, to invite you to a
dinner party at his house. That whole Young Bostonian thing has the city buzzing about you. Plus, he might want to put the squeeze on you for a campaign contribution.”

  Here it was. A second chance to confront Delancy in public. Honestly, he’d been so wrapped up in Katie that he’d almost forgotten about his vendetta against Delancy.

  Almost.

  “When’s the party?” he asked.

  “This Wednesday at eight. Should I tell him you’re available?”

  Liam swallowed hard, curled his hands into fists. “You bet.”

  “I’ll let his PA know.” Vanessa headed for the door, but paused when she reached it and turned back. “Oh, he’s expecting you to bring a date.”

  EMPOWERED BY the bold thing she’d done during her lunch hour, Katie called Lindsay Beckham the minute she sank into the chair behind her desk at Sharper Designs.

  “Chassys bar.”

  “Is this Lindsay?”

  “It is. Who’s speaking?”

  “Katie Winfield.”

  “Yes?”

  “I did it.”

  “Did what?” the unflappable blonde asked. Even over the phone, she sounded cool and utterly in control.

  “My Martini dare. You know, I made love in a forbidden place.”

  “Good for you.” Was it her imagination or was there a self-satisfied note in Lindsay’s voice? “And the object of your affections? What did he think about the dare?”

  Katie grinned, thinking of the wiped-out expression on Liam’s face. “I’m quite confident he liked it, too. Although I never told him that he was part of a dare.”

  “Excellent. As you know, you’re sworn to secrecy about the details of your Martini dares. Are you ready for the next one?”

  Katie sucked in her breath. Was she? Her encounter with Liam had been so intimately erotic she wasn’t sure she was emotionally ready for another dare.

  “You have to complete all three dares before next month’s Martinis and Bikinis meeting,” Lindsay reminded her.

  “Yeah, okay, sure, send it my way.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Lindsay chuckled. “I’ll put the new dare in the mail today.”

  “What was that all about?” Tanisha asked, after Katie had hung up.

  “Um, nothing,” she hedged.