The Bachelor Boss (O'Rourke Family 3) Page 11

  “Libby…” Whatever he’d intended to say was lost in a groan of pleasure when the inner curve of her foot stroked down the length of his leg and traced a spiral on his ankle.

  Where had she learned that?

  Oh…man, she was something.

  “Tell me, just how experienced are you?” he asked between nibbling kisses.

  Libby blinked. Wasn’t it obvious to Neil she was still a virgin? She’d met some nice men, but no one she’d fallen in love with, and sleeping with a guy just because she liked him wasn’t enough reason. That might be too “preacher’s daughterish” of her, but that’s the way it was.

  “Libby?”

  “I haven’t asked you about that,” she prevaricated.

  “No.” Neil lifted his head. He stroked her face and the heightened sensitivity of her nerves sent shivers through her body, followed by the tips of his fingers, down her jaw, to her collar bone. “I suppose it would sound like bragging if I said I’ve never had any complaints.”

  “I suppose it would.” But she had trouble not smiling, because she was quite certain Neil didn’t get any complaints. His technique was superb.

  Unfortunately, thinking about the women who’d benefited from that technique was like a splash of icy water, and the urge to smile vanished.

  A faint tug on the fabric told her he was unbuttoning the top button of her blouse. The second button went, and then the third. The soft fabric parted enough to expose her bra.

  Her eyes closed, rushing warmth replacing the brief chill.

  It was a mistake not to put an end to the moment, but she didn’t resist when he unfastened the front clasp. One handed. She couldn’t unhook her own bra with one hand and Neil had done it with three fingers.

  It was something she’d think about later, because right now she couldn’t think at all.

  All at once he put his hands on her waist and rolled her on top of him. “Look at me, Libby,” he said urgently.

  Her eyes fluttered open and she tried to focus through the rush of her pulse. “W-what?”

  “I’ll stop whenever you want. Is it…should I stop…now?” he asked, sounding like he really hoped the answer was no.

  Stopping was the last thing on her mind. Feeling wanton and out-of-control, Libby shook her head and rubbed herself over him. The movement freed one of her breasts and the light abrasion of her nipple across his bare chest sent heat straight to the base of her stomach.

  She heard a muttered curse, or maybe a prayer, and Neil pulled her mouth down to his.

  Unlike his gentle exploring before, his tongue thrust boldly, claiming his territory with predatory ease. Neil might have smoothed some of his rough edges recently, but he was still the maverick conqueror who got whatever he wanted.

  But that was all right, because she felt free to explore his chest and shoulders in ways she’d never touched a man, and the yearning deep inside her abdomen became an urgent, aching void that had to be filled. He was amazing. Hard and fit, with smooth skin except for the narrow wedge of dark hair between his pectoral muscles.

  “Neil, you…um…”

  Her words were lost when he brushed the sides of her breasts. Bracing herself on his chest, Libby lifted up, giving him full access. At the sensation of hard fingers tugging and rolling her nipples, Libby moaned. Whether for good or ill, the sound brought her to her senses.

  This was going way too fast, and way too far.

  Though her instincts said to rip the damp towel from Neil’s hips and demand he settle the need in her body, she shook her head instead, trying to clear it.

  “Neil, stop.”

  Stop?

  Neil wanted to ask if she was insane, yet at the same time he knew she was right. A woman had the right to say no, any time, any place. And this wasn’t the right time or place to make love to her, anyway.

  Chest heaving, he locked his hands behind the back of his neck to avoid grabbing Libby back. But instead of leaving, she curled up next to him and he saw tears glinting on her lashes.

  “Libby, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  Yeah, he bought that.

  “Talk to me. That’s the only way the top of my head isn’t going to blow off.”

  A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips and he wanted to kiss her all over again. “I was just thinking how safe I feel right now,” she admitted.

  He frowned. A hotel room with a naked man was the last place she should feel safe. “Come again?”

  She shrugged and swept her hair back over her shoulder.

  Her hair.

  Hell, he’d barely had a chance to slide his fingers into that heavy length of silk. How could he have neglected it? He was slipping, missing his opportunities. Of course, he’d had other temptations, like the taut weight of her breasts. Even now her creamy curves were revealed through folds of her blouse, the raspberry pink of a nipple was framed by the white eyelet fabric.

  With an effort, Neil focused on Libby’s face. “I’m not the least bit safe,” he managed to say.

  “Yes, you are. I can’t explain it.” She smoothed her finger over the hair on his chest. “I knew you’d stop. It never crossed my mind that you wouldn’t.”

  Neil grabbed one of the king-size pillows from under the bedspread and eased it beneath Libby’s head on one end, and put his own head on the other. Part of him was aching more than ever before, yet he also felt terrific. Whatever his flaws might be, knowing this particular woman trusted him seemed more important than a thousand business deals.

  “Does this hurt?” Libby asked, the tip of her finger skimming the spot where the shower rod had struck him. “I don’t think you had enough to drink at dinner to kill the pain.”

  “One light beer?” Neil’s injured eyebrow shot upward. “Not hardly. Besides, it was just a glancing blow. I’ve survived worse, like getting mugged in New York.”

  “Mugged?”

  “Just a couple of kids,” he said dismissively. “One wasn’t a bad fighter, but the other had a glass jaw.”

  Was that where he’d gotten the tiny scar under his eyebrow? Libby had never noticed it, but she’d never been lying next to him before, talking after very nearly making love. Her body was reminding her just how close they’d come, mostly through shivers of frustration. It was so strange feeling peaceful and chaotic, all at the same time.

  “And one of those ‘kids’ could have had a gun,” she said sharply, yet her words wavered slightly. “Don’t do that again, just give them what they want. A few credit cards and a watch aren’t worth your life. I don’t care if it is a Rolex.”

  “Worried about me?”

  Neil kept a tender smile from his face, knowing Libby wouldn’t understand. It wouldn’t occur to her to bolster his ego by telling him he was wonderful for being stupid enough to face down two punks in Central Park. She cared too much about people and had too much sense.

  “Of course I’m worried. It would upset Kane if something happened to you.”

  Her acerbic tone didn’t fool him. Libby had a soft heart that he’d learned to appreciate in a way he could never have imagined. Sometimes when he looked at the way he’d always been, mowing through people’s feelings, he was disgusted with himself.

  “Sorry I got moody earlier,” he whispered.

  “You were thinking about…” She hesitated.

  “About my dad.” Neil brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. “I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately. I’m not sure why, except maybe it’s wanting to know what he’d think of my life, of what I’ve done with my career.”

  If he’d think it’s enough.

  “I’m sure he’d be proud of you.”

  Maybe.

  “My dad used to make furniture—great, hand-crafted pieces,” Neil said. “He loved it, but it didn’t pay much. To support the family he got a job with a logging company, and worked weekends as a handyman. So it was because of us he died in the forest, doing something he didn’t like.”

  Libby kissed
the corner of his mouth, and he cleared his throat. What was it about her that turned him inside out? And why had it taken so long to value the sweet, tender possibilities of a woman like Libby?

  “Do you think he resented his choice?” she asked.

  The question surprised Neil, and his forehead creased as he thought about it. Keenan O’Rourke had rarely taken a day—or even an hour—off from supporting his family; his “code” had insisted he do what was necessary. Had his father resented choosing the family over work that fulfilled him?

  Never, son.

  Neil’s eyes widened as his dad’s voice echoed in his mind. It was as if Keenan was in the room, speaking not just to his ears, but to his heart.

  “No,” he said slowly. “Dad wouldn’t have resented it. He had an unbreakable code about being a man and how to make your way in the world. Regretting his choices wasn’t part of that code.”

  “What do you remember most about him?”

  “His smile,” Neil murmured, his own lips curving. “Dad’s smile made you feel as if nothing could go wrong. When I was a kid I thought he was a super-hero in disguise—that they’d somehow gotten it wrong in the comic books.”

  Libby tucked her arms in front of her, discreetly gathering the edges of her blouse together. At first she hadn’t been conscious of her bare skin, bra and blouse askew from Neil’s caresses, but no longer. Why couldn’t she be like Neil? He seemed completely comfortable with just a towel pulled carelessly over his hips.

  “You used to read comic books?” she asked.

  “Not after I decided they were all wrong.”

  “How old was that?”

  “Seven. I was almost seventeen when Dad was killed, so I got another ten years of memories before the worst happened. I guess I’m lucky. My youngest sister was so young at the time she barely remembers him.”

  “That Kathleen, right?” Libby murmured and he nodded.

  She liked Kathleen. Actually, she liked all of the O’Rourkes except for Neil, and he was starting to grow on her.

  A wry honesty made Libby roll her eyes. Neil was more than growing on her, he was monopolizing her thoughts. Worse, he was creeping into her heart no matter how hard she fought it. She couldn’t even wear that silly indulgent nightgown she’d purchased, because she couldn’t sleep for wondering if he’d approve of the way she looked in it. She ought to have been more practical and saved her money.

  Neil wasn’t looking for a fairy princess to share his castle. Which was a really dumb thought, because she didn’t believe in fairy-tale princes. Except…Neil was better than a prince. He was real and warm and exciting, and she was getting too involved for her own good.

  “I should go down to the office and get a replacement key,” she said reluctantly, hating to disturb the moment.

  “I’ll get dressed and go with you.”

  “That’s all right. I can’t get into trouble between here and the office.”

  “No.”

  The adamant look on Neil’s face told her it wouldn’t do any good to argue. She was tempted to tease him about being old-fashioned in his attitude toward women, but he’d probably take it too seriously.

  “Then I’ll close my eyes.”

  She closed them, and heard him chuckle. “I think I’ll take care of you first.”

  Libby jumped when his fingers began fastening the hooks and buttons he’d unfastened earlier.

  “Are you peeking?” she asked as he took his time drawing the bra over her breasts, slipping every now and then to caress her skin. Her heart began pounding again so hard she figured he could see it practically jumping from her chest.

  “Of course I’m peeking. I’m a guy, we’re genetically programmed to look whenever possible. You said it yourself, men just think about sex.”

  She winced.

  “Uh…about that, I really ought to apo—”

  Neil put his palm over her mouth and she looked into his gray eyes smiling down at her. How could she have ever thought they were cold?

  “I have an idea,” he said. “Let’s forget about the things we said before we got better acquainted. As I recall I said a few things that I’d rather you didn’t remember.”

  Libby bobbed her head and couldn’t resist kissing the palm nestled against her mouth. Neil’s breath came out harshly.

  “Lady, I can’t remember the last time I felt this way,” he muttered. “Go ahead and peek all you like.”

  He swung away from the bed, unhitching the towel from around his hips. It landed in an untidy heap on the floor, and Libby openly watched as he grabbed his clothes. It was silly to think of a modern man like Neil in terms of Greek statues, but the line and power of his body did remind her of a classical sculpture. Of course, she doubted a sculpture had ever depicted such an aroused male.

  “You are peeking,” Neil said, sounding surprised when he turned around.

  “By invitation.”

  “I didn’t think virgins looked.”

  “What makes you think virgins don’t care about looking?” she asked, still unwilling to admit the truth.

  Neil just shrugged. He finished buckling his belt buckle, and she sighed, thinking he was even more scrumptious in jeans and a pullover sweater than his designer suits.

  “What makes you think virgins don’t think about sex?” she continued. “Or that they don’t lie awake sometimes at night and wish there was a man in their bed, instead of a cat? And I don’t mean for cuddling and warmth, but for outrageous sex? What makes you think women are like Sleeping Beauty, needing to be awakened by a man before they feel like you do?”

  Dear heaven. Neil thought he was going to drop dead of a heart attack. He’d never imagined a virgin felt that way, and the fact it was Libby saying those things made him want to howl.

  He opened his mouth, then closed it again when she shook her head.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just nervous.”

  “You’re nervous?” he croaked.

  “Yes. I don’t know how you really feel about me…uh…being a…” Her voice trailed, but instead of flushing pink with embarrassment, her skin turned pale.

  Tension flew out of him, replaced by understanding. He could say they should forget the things they’d said to one another, but it didn’t change the fact that he’d once been contemptuous of her innocence.

  “I’ve grown up since the day we met,” Neil said quietly. “Boys say a lot of things when they’re trying to get a girl into bed, or when their pride is wounded. Foolish things they’re ashamed of later. A grown man doesn’t try to manipulate a woman into giving him something she doesn’t want to give, and he respects the choices she makes. It’s that simple.”

  Libby straightened her skirt without looking at him, then fingered the gold chain around her neck. She was still pale, and he ached with the need to make her understand.

  He crouched next to her and lifted her chin. “When my brother said you had qualities I needed, I was angry. But it wasn’t because of you, it was my pride getting in the way again, not wanting to admit I couldn’t go it alone. But Kane was right. I’m a better person because of you, Libby, so how could I think you’re anything but wonderful?”

  Libby swallowed. Neil’s eyes blazed with sincerity, and she blinked away a tear.

  Her heart and mind and body were so stirred up she could barely think, but she believed him.

  Chapter Ten

  “Come on.” Neil grabbed Libby’s hand and pulled her to her feet. “We’d better get a duplicate key for your room before I forget I’m all grown up now, and try to get you back in bed using all the sneaky adolescent tricks at my disposal.”

  Libby’s chin lifted with a hint of her normal stubbornness. “Those tricks didn’t work for you before, what makes you think they’d work now?”

  “Hey, that’s right. Guess you were smarter than me, even eleven years ago.”

  He deliberately kept his tone light and teasing, hoping he’d never see that somber expression on Libby’s face ag
ain. It was bound to happen, but he’d rather cut off his right arm than be the one to put it there.

  He pulled his coat around her shoulders before they went outside, though she didn’t seem to get cold the way most people did. Libby accepted the gesture with a smile.

  The desk clerk nodded as they walked in. “How can I help you?” he asked genially.

  “Miss Dumont needs a duplicate key to her room,” Neil explained. “She’s locked out.”

  “Oh, well, that happens.”

  The man chuckled and popped a plastic key into the machine to electronically code it. Calling something the size and feel of a credit card a “key” seemed odd, but that was the modern world. They wouldn’t have anything like that in their bed and breakfast inns. Instead, they’d have real keys and locks that offered the feel of earlier days.

  Libby’s enthusiasm was contagious. His imagination was filled with the possibilities of creating gracious and elegant places for people to enjoy. They could do so much with a house like the one in Griffith or the other gems they’d found, especially with a partner like Libby.

  The desk clerk took a call, and while they were waiting, Libby wandered over to the rack holding advertisements for various Washington state attractions. He wondered if she was envisioning flyers for the bed-and-breakfast inns they were creating. She might even be designing them in her head.

  “Here you go,” said the clerk when he’d hung up the receiver. “Just like a little lady to forget her key.” He chortled, obviously thinking he’d said something witty and wise.

  From the corner of his eye Neil saw Libby looked annoyed, but he doubted she’d say anything about the “little lady” remark, she was too polite.

  He, on the other hand, was known for being rude, arrogant and pushy, and he’d be damned if he let someone belittle Libby.

  “Miss Dumont forgot her key out of concern for me,” he said icily. “The shower rod fell off the bathroom wall and hit me on the face. The noise alarmed her and she rushed to help. So make an effort not to say something more stupid than you have to, all right?”

  The other man shrank backward. “Er…I didn’t mean…The motel will…that is, do you need medical attention?” he stuttered.