The CEO's Dilemma ; Undeniable Passion Read online

  “Do you plan on doing anything to make sure you don’t end up living and dying like your father?”

  She felt rather than saw his smile, a slow relaxation in his big body. “Absolutely. For one thing, I plan on coming out to the river any chance I get.”

  “Good. You seem happy here. Everyone should make time for their own happiness, no matter what they do during the week.” She peeked over her shoulder at him. “Well, unless they’re a serial killer or some other really crappy human being who likes doing crappy things.”

  His soft laugh rumbled from behind her. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  The current swept them faster along the river, gliding between rocks that suddenly appeared. Moments later a thick tree limb tumbled across a mini waterfall the small boat maneuvered through.

  Wow. Roman was really, really good at this kayaking stuff.

  When the conversation lulled to a comfortable silence, broken only by the low sounds of the natural world around them—the subtle splash of his paddle in the water, the easy, deep inhale and exhale of him behind her—Aisha allowed her imagination to roam.

  She imagined the straining muscles in Roman’s arms as he propelled them skillfully through the water and down the rapidly rushing river. The bunch of his pectoral muscles under the T-shirt. The sensual straining in his back.

  A shiver rippled through her entire body. Fireflies of desire lit up her insides.

  Control yourself.

  But she couldn’t. It felt like she was in high school all over again, fluttering all over the place because of her crush on a popular boy she had no hope of winning. But this boy—no, this man—was behind her and she could practically feel the sweat of his exertions, the huff of his breath on the back of her neck.

  Twisting around in the kayak, Aisha opened her mouth to speak. But the little boat jerked.

  “Be careful!” But Roman spoke too late because she turned too hard and too fast and the kayak tilted. Before she could stop herself Aisha spilled out into the river. Her paddle went one way and she went another.

  “Oh my God!” Despite the summer heat, the river slid icy fingers under her shirt, her pants, over her face.

  In the cold, deep water, she gasped in a breath. “Roman!” Her life jacket kept her afloat. Thank God, Roman had insisted she wear it.

  About ten feet away from her, Roman swam toward her, his paddle in hand as he fought the current. “Grab my paddle!”

  Aisha gasped in relief to see him and swam in the direction of the paddle he held out. Then suddenly the kayak was there, inches from her head. Cold water splashed over her face. She gasped and bucked out of the way. But not fast enough. The kayak clipped her shoulder and she hissed from the pain then grabbed it so it wouldn’t float away like her paddle.

  This little boat was something Roman valued. She wouldn’t let it be lost. Not because of her own carelessness. The plastic boat was both rough and slippery under her arm as she grabbed it, keeping it close while she swam one-handed toward Roman.

  “It’s okay!” she called out to him, gulping water and fighting against the current that hadn’t seemed so strong a few minutes ago. “Grab the boat. Throw the paddle inside!”

  “Let go of the boat!” Roman yelled at her.

  The current swept her along, right into a rock. Pain slammed through her arm and shoulder but she didn’t let go of the kayak. Instead she pushed away from the rock, her shoes easily finding purchase.

  “The shore!” she gasped and swam as much as she was able to against the current.

  A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed that Roman was right behind her, swimming quickly toward her. The rocks near the shore slithered under her shoes. The kayak slid against her arm and side, bumping into her with her every movement.

  “Come on.” Suddenly, Roman was on the shore, holding the paddle out to her and helping to pull her up onto the rough bank and dry land.

  How did he get there so fast? His fingers were strong around hers, his breathing rough as he dragged her all the way to him and against his chest.

  “Damn, Aisha...” he gasped against her ear. “You scared the hell out of me.”

  Even wet and shaking, he felt good. Aisha licked her lips and held tighter to him, not ready to let go yet. “I told you I can swim.”

  The kayak dropped out of her grip and dropped to the ground. Roman pulled away, his brows lowered as he stared at her.

  “I told you to let go of the boat,” he growled at her. “I can buy another one but I could never replace you.”

  His frown deepened as he seemed to realize what he’d just said. Aisha smiled up at him. “Well, now you don’t have to replace either one.”

  “Christ.” He dragged her against him again, his big chest heaving with the effort of swimming so quickly to shore, and maybe with something else, too. “Don’t ever do that again.” His gaze was intense on hers, with a frantic edge. Water dripped down his face, his gasping lips.

  Kiss me, she thought with an edge of desperation. Please, kiss me.

  As if obeying her directive, his mouth swooped down and captured hers. Firm and hot, a contrast to the cold water, making her shiver. Then Roman stiffened and pulled back, his face a study in shock at what he’d just done. But Aisha didn’t want his regret. She wanted his heat. She wanted his desire.

  With a low moan, she shot onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. Once. Twice. For a moment he just breathed against her, still as a statue, while she twined her arms around his neck and crushed his mouth with her hungry kisses. Then he shuddered, a full quiver of his entire body that she felt deep inside hers. He groaned like he was in pain and latched his arms around her waist and kissed her back.

  Oh hell yes.

  It didn’t matter that she was soaking wet and about to catch her death of cold. His body against hers felt so right, so good. Her knees buckled when he tongued her lips apart, tenderly exploring her mouth, the intimate place that she swore from now on would only be his to taste, his to make love to.

  Oh God. Oh God.

  Somehow she knew it would be like this. Once she tasted him, there would be no going back. Not from this. Never.

  “Woohoo!” A wild whistle from a passing kayak jerked them apart.

  Aisha forced a smile and waved at the pair of kayakers. Roman cursed and licked his gorgeous lips. Even though he stood a foot or so away from her, his eyes were still on her mouth, so Aisha bit her bottom lip, wanting him to see just how much she wanted him, too.

  He cleared his throat and jerked his gaze away from her. “We need to go.”

  “Where? And how?” They were a long way from his truck and she couldn’t imagine them paddling upstream against the current. Not to mention they were both dripping wet. She shivered.

  After another quick look at her, Roman grabbed the kayak, easily lifting it above his head. “Come on. I know a place where we can dry off at least.”

  He hefted the kayak over one shoulder then briefly touched the small of Aisha’s back. “This way.”

  Chapter 12

  It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

  The plan was a morning kayak ride on the river to show Aisha one of the things his mother loved, maybe lunch on the way back into the city. And that was it.

  If there was one thing that the last few weeks of Roman’s life proved, though, it was that things didn’t always go as planned.

  “It’s not too far.” With the kayak on his shoulder, Roman risked a darting glance to make sure she was still behind him on the path. He’d prefer her walking in front, but she didn’t know the way and he wanted to get there as soon as possible and get her out of those wet clothes.

  Wait. The picture his imagination supplied wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. Her bare skin, slowly being revealed to him as she shed the wet garments one at a time.

  But once the thou
ght came, his mind latched onto it and wouldn’t let go. He clenched his teeth and tried to will away the tightening in his crotch. Just in time, the cabin appeared.

  “Right there,” he called over his shoulder to her as he pointed ahead.

  Two-story and A-frame, the cabin’s blond wood glowed under the late morning sun. It was a cabin his mother’d had custom-built for those times she didn’t want to rush back to her life in the city. Over the years, he’d made sure to keep a caretaker for it. One who came in twice a month to ensure the cabin was clean with everything in working order and ready to be used at a moment’s notice.

  Roman climbed the short four steps to the porch and, after sliding the kayak off his shoulder and to the floor, opened the door with the key hidden in a wooden decoration built into the railing. He held the door open for Aisha and, once she stepped inside, closed it behind them.

  The cabin wasn’t anything luxurious. His mother, despite the fact that she’d been born into money and had married even more money, preferred her luxuries in other things. Travel. Yoga classes and retreats. A well-rounded education for her sons instead of the hyper-focus on business schools and classes her husband insisted on. So, no, this cabin wasn’t a mini palace like the one his father owned high in the Blue Ridge Mountains or the French Alps. This one had a small living room with a couch, two chairs and a plain rug gathered around the fireplace, along with a serviceable kitchen, a lofted sleeping space above them and a bedroom with an attached bath down the hall.

  After a quick check to make sure everything was in order, he turned on the power, water heater and everything else that lay dormant between his visits.

  Roman and Lance had visited the place with their mother many times. His mother had brought him a few times while he was in high school and later in college. He’d come on his own since his mother died two years ago but never stayed more than a night or two.

  The cabin was always cozy. But with Aisha breathing softly near him, he felt all at once its intimacy. She looked around her with curious eyes and then got her hands in on the exploration, running her fingers over the pale wooden walls then leaning against the fireplace to peer up at the framed photographs on the mantel. She seemed especially interested in the one of his mother by herself, her hair a thick fall of mostly gray dreadlocks to the middle of her back.

  It was a photo Roman had taken one summer. It captured her wading into the river from its rocky edge, the hem of her long, teal dress gathered in one hand as she looked down to see where she was stepping. Scattered rocks rose large and smooth around her, the river gushing in mini waterfalls around and over them.

  Next to that photo was one of his mother with him and Lance when they were teenagers. The third framed photo was of him and his brother taken at Roman’s business school graduation. When Aisha’s fingers touched the silver box next to the photographs, the breath froze in his lungs. She moved on and he breathed easily again.

  Roman cleared his throat.

  “The bathroom is down there,” he said, pointing to the hallway. “You can have the first shower. There’s a dresser in the bedroom with some clothes that might fit you.”

  “Oh, okay.” Aisha turned away from her close study of the photos. “This place is really something. So unexpected up here.” She waved a hand at the photos. “Your mother?”

  “Yes.”

  She nodded and didn’t say anything else, only took a slow and scenic meander toward the bathroom. A breath left his open mouth as she closed the door behind her. His knees felt weak, his entire body too battered from his battle with the river’s current to properly make sense of what the hell he was doing. After a few cleansing breaths, he managed to get it together.

  He stripped off his wet shirt, shoes and socks, keeping on only the pants until Aisha came out of the bathroom and he could use the shower himself. He threw the clothes in the washing machine but didn’t turn the machine on just in case Aisha wanted to have her clothes washed, too.

  In the kitchen, he put on the coffee and started the kettle for tea.

  By the time Aisha came out of the bedroom, the coffee was made and the water for tea ready.

  “It’s all yours,” she said.

  She smelled like the lemon body wash he kept in the bathroom and she was wearing an oversize T-shirt and loose pants. One of the many pieces of clothing his mother had kept at the cabin. With her body sweet-smelling from her shower and a faintly nervous smile on her face, Aisha looked delectable. Irresistible. Young.

  Roman nearly broke his neck rushing out of the room.

  “There’s coffee and tea in the kitchen,” he said over his shoulder before firmly closing the bathroom door behind him.

  Instantly he regretted his decision to rush off so quickly. He should have waited until the scent of her had dissipated from the bathroom. Now, trapped in the small room full of steam and the scent of woman, Roman was hard as river rock.

  All too easy, the image of her in that room came to him. Nude and stepping into the glassed-in shower, the steam swirling around her slender body. His own body betrayed his desire. Oh so very easily. His hand drifted down, palmed his hardness through his damp pants. A groan spilled from his lips.

  Stop. If he didn’t stop the easy grip of his hand right now, he didn’t know if he’d be able to.

  He yanked his hand away from his hardness and quickly stripped. When he stepped under the shower spray, it was still cold. Roman made quick and efficient work of cleansing himself with one of the small cloths and the same lemon soap that now seasoned Aisha’s body.

  Despite the cold water and his efficient movements, his body was still ready for hers when he got out of the shower. In the bedroom, he dressed in some of his own clothes and, after taking a deep and calming breath meant to center him and get rid of his lingering arousal, went back into the living room.

  While he’d been gone, Aisha had opened the blinds in the kitchen and living room. Sunlight spilled over every surface, over her. In the borrowed clothes that shouldn’t have made her seem so damn sexy, she sat on a bar stool at the rustic countertop, drinking what smelled like coffee. When she saw him, she looked up with a warm smile.

  “Coffee or tea?” she asked.

  Roman’s big mouth opened before his brain could kick in. “Isn’t there traditionally a third choice in that question?”

  Her eyes widened then her pretty mouth curved up in a slow, seductive smile. Roman noticed how the corners of her eyes were smooth, years away from acquiring any wrinkles. Unlike his.

  “I didn’t know you were interested in that part of the menu,” Aisha said. “But it’s very definitely available to you.”

  Roman swallowed hard, the effort he’d put into calming his body going completely to waste at the look in her long-lashed eyes. Without his permission, his feet took him to the kitchen. The smell of brewed coffee was rich there. And underneath it, the tempting scent of Aisha’s newly washed body. Lemons. Woman. Temptation.

  Because he was a man who always believed in follow-through, no matter who started it, he went to Aisha, crowded her even as she backed away, a slow and enticing movement of her long legs, until her back hit the kitchen counter.

  “You don’t know how happy it makes me to hear you say that,” he said before lowering his mouth to hers.

  Kissing her at the river had been a reckless mistake. She’d been wet from her unplanned swim and gorgeous, the water clinging to her skin, dripping down her eyelashes and her soft cheeks. Although he couldn’t remember who’d kissed whom, the meeting of their lips had seemed almost a natural consequence of his fears being unfounded, at being relieved he hadn’t accidentally killed her.

  That moment had almost been beyond his control.

  Now, though, he didn’t have that excuse.

  “God, you’re beautiful.”

  Did he say that?

  His fingers slipped under h
er thick, damp hair to press into the delicate heat of her scalp then down the back of her neck. Aisha groaned into his mouth. She shifted against him and he could smell the lemon soap against her skin. And knowing that she smelled of the same thing he did seemed like the greatest intimacy. The ultimate knowing.

  Heart knocking loud in his chest, he kissed the corners of her mouth, her cheek, the slope of her neck, seeking out more of that skin-warmed scent. “You smell delicious,” he groaned, unable to help himself.

  “I smell like you.” She laughed, low and sensual, just before he returned his lips to hers.

  And then her laughter tapered off into a soft moan. She stretched against him, pressing her breasts, belly and thighs into him.

  Roman’s fingers clutched, digging into her soft hips. His senses reeled.

  “Yes...” she breathed against his lips. “Touch me.”

  Aisha gasped again when he cupped her ripe behind and gripped her tight against him, moving their bodies until they were rocking together against the countertop as their tongues mated, their breaths mixed and their moans and sighs ribboned through the kitchen.

  “Like this?” He slid a hand under the back of the pants she wore and encountered naked flesh. His heart thundered loudly in its cage.

  “Yes,” she groaned again.

  He wanted her. No matter how young he thought she was. No matter how complicated their involvement would be. He wanted her with a ferocity that elicited a growl from his throat and ignited the savage desire to claim her for himself so she wouldn’t so much as glance at another man.

  No. That was wrong. That wasn’t how he acted with the women he wanted.

  Normally he was a much more civilized man. A more courteous man.

  But with every sweep of his tongue inside her mouth, every brush of her long fingers under his shirt, he was turning into someone else. A man who would do anything to have her. Even ignore the obvious and the wrong and the complicated.