Sapphire Read online

“Oh, I know you would, but I think you don’t really want to. Ask yourself this—are you afraid right now?”

  Was she? No. Shocked and off balance, maybe. Filled with that weakening heat. She wanted him to touch her now, against all reason.

  Kirliss watched her, those tawny eyes seeing too much.

  “No,” she countered. “I’m angry.”

  “Are you?” Kirliss tugged at the blue silk of her skirt, fingers drawing up the material. “Tell me what you feel, M.”

  “Taylor. My name is Taylor.”

  “Not right now.” Kirliss slid her hem a bit higher, fingers brushing the side of her thigh. “I want to find out more about M. Is she the side of you who picked out this very sexy dress?”

  “Stop that,” Taylor whispered, growing more unsteady. Surely he wouldn’t really…

  “No. This is my presentation now. I have this theory, M, that you have so much to control in your life that you long for a little, shall we say, loss of control.”

  Taylor shivered. The air was cooling, she told herself. It had nothing to do with his words or the steady brush of his fingers against the long outside line of her thigh.

  “I think what you’re feeling is desire. You want this.”

  “I’m a big girl. I know what I want.”

  “Do you? Then tell me.” His hand brushed up the front of her thigh, stroking and teasing.

  Taylor bit down on a whimper. “Please.”

  “Sapphire.”

  “What?”

  “That’s your safe word. For this beautiful dress and for your extraordinary eyes. You may beg and plead all you like. This is what I offer you. Give up control, M. Sapphire pulls the plug. Nothing else.”

  His fingers trailed over her panties, touching the silk and lace while he waited. Taylor shuddered, drowning in the tumult of emotion. The cuffs bit into her wrists, and the helplessness pumped through her blood.

  She found she couldn’t speak a word.

  Golden eyes drilling into hers, Kirliss slipped his other hand under her skirt, hooked both thumbs into the string of her panties. Never breaking her locked gaze, he crouched, sliding the panties slowly down her legs. When he reached her high-heeled feet, he wrapped firm fingers around her ankle and lifted, like one would a horse’s hoof. Mesmerized, Taylor followed the suggestion. Kirliss slid the panties over her shoe and kissed the tender inside of her ankle. An arrow of pleasure shot up to her groin, grabbing her like a fist. Kirliss repeated the ritual with her other foot.

  Standing, he tucked her panties into his jacket pocket. Taylor stared at where they’d gone, riveted that she was letting this happen to her. She pressed her thighs tightly together, clenching the ache in her sex. Over his shoulder, beyond the deep night, the festivities rollicked on.

  Kirliss cocked an eyebrow at her. “Anything to say?”

  The word burned in her mouth. Sapphire. She should speak it aloud. End this nonsense. But her throat clenched around it, her darker self dragging the word down, holding it prisoner. She trembled with not saying it.

  She had to know what came next.

  Kirliss stepped close to her. Relieved that he wouldn’t taunt her for giving in so easily, Taylor closed her eyes. His hand slipped up under her skirt again and she held her breath. He stroked upward, sliding toward her sex. She stayed still.

  She didn’t help him by opening her legs and he didn’t tell her to. Kirliss didn’t need to. He inserted one finger into the slight triangular space at the nexus of her thighs. He brushed her labia, and the wet tissues parted, giving way immediately. Here there was no resistance at all.

  Kirliss sighed and Taylor moaned.

  “Slippery. Hot. Begging for this,” he whispered in her ear.

  Taylor shuddered at the words. She pulled at the cuffs, reassuring herself that he had captured her. She couldn’t resist this.

  “Admit that you want this, M. Say you need what I can give you.”

  No.

  Taylor let her head fall forward, so she didn’t have to look in his face while he stroked her and she trembled under his touch. For the first time, she wished she hadn’t put her hair up so tightly, that more strands would fall to shield her face from him.

  “You see?” Kirliss murmured. “Feel how this takes you over. How it can be for us.”

  He twined his fingers into her chignon, gently tugging her head back so she had no choice but to meet his eyes, intense even through the deep shadows.

  “Eyes open. That’s an order.”

  His words thrummed through her and Taylor obeyed in a kind of delirium.

  Kirliss stroked her and she followed the movement of his hand, riding his fingers in helpless pleasure. A shattered moan escaped her. Holding her head still, he quickened the movement and Taylor felt the climax build. She would orgasm here, on the hand of a man she barely knew, cuffed to the rail of her CEO’s yacht.

  Sapphire. The word burned in her throat. A fragile safety net.

  Kirliss plunged a finger into her, pressing her clit with his thumb, and Taylor came. She climaxed in great shuddering gasps, pressing her lips together to stifle her cries. All the while, Kirliss watched her, drinking in every last twitch and moan. Smiling like a cat with cream.

  Taylor sagged there, leaning back against the rail, held up only by Kirliss’s strong hand cupping her skull and his lean fingers plumbing her still-quivering sex.

  As she cooled, the embarrassment and regret rushed in.

  Kirliss must have felt her stiffen, because he withdrew his hand, giving her damp lips a little pat. Her skirt fell against her sensitized skin, the light silk a sensuous reminder. Taylor averted her eyes while he took out a white handkerchief and dried his fingers. He folded it and tucked it into the pocket where he’d put her panties.

  She sighed with relief when he took a key from another pocket.

  He straddled her, one strong thigh on either side of hers, and reached around her to her cuffed wrists. Taylor stared steadfastly at his shoulder, holding her breath, waiting for the click of the lock and freedom.

  But he didn’t move.

  She waited, but he stayed, pressed against her, pinning her to the rail. Taylor tried not to feel mastered by it. Still, she felt small against him, almost fragile. She wanted to bury herself against his warmth and have him hold her.

  Finally she looked up.

  He was watching her, of course. Taylor had the uncanny notion again that he knew what she was thinking and feeling. Kirliss raised an eyebrow.

  “Well?” she said, her voice more arch than she’d thought she could muster. Good for her. “Are you going to unlock the cuffs or what?”

  His eyes glimmered. “I’m waiting for you to ask me.”

  “Fine. Let me go now.”

  He made a tsking sound. “That sounds like an order.”

  “Look—you’ve played your game. The fun is over now. We’ve been away from the party long enough that someone will come looking. Enough already.”

  Kirliss didn’t move. He didn’t answer.

  Taylor sighed. “Okay. Please unlock the cuffs now.”

  “Say ‘pretty please.’”

  Taylor huffed. Feeling ridiculous, she repeated, “Unlock my cuffs, pretty please.”

  “Ask nicely.”

  The man was impossible.

  “Would you unlock the cuffs, pretty please?”

  Kirliss pressed a kiss to her temple, sending a susurrus of warmth through her. With overwhelming relief, Taylor felt the hard metal fall away from her wrists. She twisted away from Kirliss, putting distance between them.

  He watched her, a sardonic curl on his lips. He aligned the circles of the cuffs neatly and slid them into a back pocket.

  Taylor held out her hand. “My panties, please.”

  Kirliss shook his head slowly.

  Taylor sighed. “May I have my panties, pretty please?”

  Kirliss chuckled. “Nicely asked, but no, they’re mine now. I want you to spend the rest of this party feeling the wetnes
s of your sex, remembering what I did to you. Knowing that every time I look at you, I’m remembering too—how you felt, burning wet against my hand as you came apart.”

  Taylor sucked in her breath. Her heart, still not quite settled, thumped at the ferocity in his gaze.

  “Fine, then.” But the words came out thin and tentative. Taylor turned on her heel and went back to the light-filled party, Kirliss’s dark chuckle following her.

  Taylor tried to put it behind her. She visited the ladies’ room and cleaned up as best she could. Her chignon was a complete wreck, with several pins missing, so she finally just took it down and finger-combed the curls that fell around her shoulders. Her makeup looked oddly untouched. But then, he hadn’t kissed her, except for those hot kisses on her ankles and the one to her temple. A reward for obedience.

  Sapphire.

  Why hadn’t she spoken it and escaped?

  Taylor stared hard at herself in the mirror. She’d never been one to cut herself slack, which was why she’d succeeded. She worked hard. She held herself to a high standard. Never had she given in to those dark fantasies. Strong women didn’t want that kind of thing. Why had she let it happen?

  A fluke. The whole thing was just the result of releasing all that pressure from the long months putting this deal together. Then the party atmosphere and champagne…Taylor laughed and shook her head. There—that looked more like her usual confident self.

  Write it off as a Penthouse moment. A bold career woman could dabble in a bit of a sexual fetish now and again. It was empowering, really. Later in life, she’d look back on this evening with a fond smile for her daring youth. Cast in that light, she’d been adventurous to let a casual business associate do those things. A little bit wild, even. Men indulged in this kind of thing. Why not her?

  With a flirtatious toss of her head, Taylor went to rejoin the party. The yacht was cruising steadily back to the harbor now, the lights of the city like sparkling jewels.

  “There she is!” Worthington called out. “We wondered where you’d gotten to, Taylor.”

  Taylor hesitated, feeling unaccountably transparent. Silly—nothing had changed. That anyone could see. Men claimed they could tell whether a woman wore panties or not. She didn’t believe it for a minute. She smiled brightly. “Just enjoying your beautiful boat. Thanks so much for giving us such a great party.”

  Worthington gave her an assessing look. She tensed.

  “You let your hair down. Good for you. Nice to see the human side of you.”

  Self-consciously, Taylor shook her head. “The wind—you know.”

  Worthington winked at her. “That’s why I sail. Nothing like a trip on the water to shed those office pressures and bring out the best in us.”

  “It suits you, M.”

  Of course, Kirliss stood right behind her. Taylor braced herself, but he only smiled, polite, businesslike. Never mind that something lurked behind it. Taylor rubbed her wrist, the skin a little tender. His eyes flicked down to the movement and Taylor wove her fingers together, looking away.

  The yacht pulled into the docking area with slow majesty. Servers cleaned up glasses and platters with mundane clanking. The brilliant harbor lights lit every crevice of the boat, bringing a harsh clarity.

  “Can I offer you a ride home?” Kirliss asked.

  “Ah…no, thank you.” Taylor managed to sound smooth and firm. “I have my car here.”

  “Then I’ll walk you to your car.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Let Kirliss walk you to your car, Taylor.” Worthington jumped in. “Can’t be too safe. Take care of my new VP—I need her. Good to see you, Adam.”

  With a pleased handshake, he strode off and Taylor wheeled on Kirliss. “Nothing more is going to happen—I mean it!”

  “In a parking lot?” Kirliss raised dubious eyebrows. “What kind of man do you take me for?”

  “I’m not going to answer that,” Taylor muttered.

  Kirliss chuckled and took her elbow, supporting her while she picked her way down the ramp in her high heels. They walked across the planking, Taylor making sure her stilettos didn’t go through the gaps. When they hit pavement, she pulled her elbow out of his grasp, on pretext of adjusting her shawl, and he let her.

  “Your legs look incredible in those heels,” he observed.

  Taylor almost didn’t reply. “Thank you,” she finally offered. She could play the polite game.

  “I’d like to see you naked, in nothing but the heels.”

  Taylor choked. “It’s good to want things.” Her car was close.

  “I’d like to take you to dinner tomorrow night,” Kirliss said.

  “No.”

  “Lunch, then.”

  “No.”

  “Tonight was only the beginning, M. We both know you liked my sample.”

  Taylor had her car keys in hand, ready. “Look, what happened tonight was exciting, I won’t lie. But it was just a fling. I’m a busy woman.”

  She reached her car, unlocked it and opened the door. She tossed her purse on the seat. “So, um—” she put out a hand to shake, “—thanks for a lovely evening, I guess.”

  Kirliss shook her hand, looking amused. Then he tightened his grip, not painful but firm. Taylor’s breath, still not quite normal, burned in her chest. He stepped in, backing her against the car, the metal still warm from the day’s heat. With excruciating slowness, he moved her hand behind her back, changing his grip so his fingers encircled her wrist. Heat jumped through her in panicked bursts, her still-damp sex flooding again.

  Kirliss pressed against her and Taylor put a hand, full of her car keys, against his shoulder to hold him away. Still, her pounding heartbeat shuddered through her and she felt sure he reveled in every thump. He lowered his head so their lips were a breath apart.

  “I want you,” he whispered. “And I know you want me to have you, M. I’m not letting Taylor get in the way of that.”

  “I’m not interested in being any man’s slave.” Taylor’s voice shook but the words were clear.

  Kirliss laughed and pressed a kiss against the corner of her mouth. His breath feathered across her cheek while his muscled thighs pressed into hers. His lips brushed her sensitive earlobe, and Taylor gasped.

  “I’m not interested in having a slave,” he said. And lightly bit her earlobe.

  Taylor convulsed, blood pounding hot through her. From far away, she heard his quiet laugh.

  “Your passion liberates you, M, not the reverse. I’ll send a driver to pick you up at your place, eight o’clock.”

  Dazed, Taylor let him help her into her car. She shook away the blistering fog and clung to some sense. “Absolutely not.”

  He raised an eyebrow, bracing himself on the open car door, caging her in. Taylor put her key in the ignition, reassured by the warm purr of the engine.

  “Clinging to control, Taylor?”

  “How stupid would I be to just get in a man’s car? A man I already know has odd sexual proclivities.”

  “Those are the rules, M. My driver picks you up for dinner. Or…we can have lunch and negotiate terms.”

  “Lunch, then,” Taylor agreed. “We’ll meet at—”

  Kirliss grinned. “I’ll be at your office at 11:30.”

  Taylor opened her mouth, but he shut the car door and tucked his thumbs in his slacks pockets, the elegant black jacket swept back to frame lean hips. She’d been outmaneuvered. Neatly too.

  She drove home through the jeweled traffic, feeling curiously both satisfied and aroused. Alone, she could admit to herself that she’d let him manipulate her into seeing him again. The way his long fingers had stroked her…She pressed her thighs together. She’d loved every moment of what he’d done. Like a baby heroine addict, now she wanted more.

  Just one night, maybe.

  She turned the safe word over in her mind. Sapphire.

  In the clear blast of morning light, the whole incident seemed almost silly.

  It was good
they were having lunch. Taylor would calmly and rationally explain how much their company valued their contracts with Jaguar Enterprises, but that she couldn’t possibly fraternize with a business associate. Yes, she’d been unwise to drink the champagne—mea culpa—but their flirtation would end there.

  She certainly wasn’t dressing with their lunch date in mind.

  Taylor pulled on slim black slacks that hung on her hips nicely. She put the white blouse back and pulled out a dark blue silk one instead. More power for her on the playing field.

  If she took care with her makeup, it was because of the shadows from the late night. She pulled her auburn hair into a sleek ponytail, anchored with a jeweled barrette. With the fitted black jacket, she looked cool and professional. Perfect.

  As the morning wore on, Taylor reminded herself that she wasn’t watching the clock. She rehearsed her points in her mind. Preparation was key. That was where her mother had first started to fall apart, unable to plan for meals, for the meetings of the day. Piece by piece she’d lost control of her daughter, her men and her entire life.

  “Ms. Hamilton?” Her assistant held the office door open, his head bracketed by a phone headset, a flashing BlackBerry in his hand. “Your eleven-thirty is here. Shall I send him in?”

  “Thanks, Steve. Give me five minutes.”

  “Can do! You want me to pull any of the numbers from the team’s current projections?”

  Taylor kicked herself. For a normal meeting, she would have had Steve on that first thing.

  “Yes. Thanks, Steve. I don’t know where my head is this morning.”

  “No kidding.” Steve shook his head and grinned. “Remind me to take the day off after Worthington’s next ‘little gathering.’” He checked his watch. “Five minutes, counting from now.”

  Taylor had learned the trick from Worthington early on. Make them wait a bit. Take your time to assemble your thoughts. Clear your desk. Be cool and collected. She added the soothing step of refreshing her lipstick, taking comfort in the crisp, clean line.

  When Steve knocked to escort Kirliss in, Taylor was composed and ready.

  “Mr. Kirliss.” She picked up the file folder she’d deliberately left out on the otherwise immaculate desk and slid it into the shallow top drawer as he walked in. The image of a busy woman putting her work away. She glanced up, stood and held out a hand over the glossy desk. “The early numbers are looking good. I think you’ll be pleased.”