Pleasure at Midnight ; His Pick for Passion Page 13

  Glad he’d packed that morning after breakfast, Roderick strode into the bedroom, grabbed his suitcase from the closet and returned to the living room, clutching his coat in his right hand. “Does Geneviève use any aliases when she travels?”

  Demi closed her eyes and massaged her temples. “Yes, several. Why? Do you need them?”

  “Please text me the names.”

  “I’m going with you.” Short black curls tumbled around Althea’s face as she fervently shook her head. “I’m her mother. I should be the one to find her. She’s my baby.”

  “Ms. Harris, I don’t think that’s a good idea. You should stay here with Demi just in case Geneviève comes back. But if I hear from her, I promise you’ll be the first to know.”

  Seconds passed, then Althea spoke in a solemn voice. “You’re right,” she conceded. “I’d probably kill you if we were alone in your car.”

  Or vice versa, Roderick thought, tearing out of the hotel suite.

  * * *

  Six hours after leaving Hotel du Lugo, Roderick parked his Mercedes GLE on a tree-lined street in Vielha and turned off the engine. Thanks to the GPS system in the rental car, he’d arrived at the popular tourist destination in one piece, despite the blowing snow and icy, treacherous roads.

  Roderick stared out the windshield of the SUV, curious about the bearded stranger inside the rustic log cabin. A Spanish man with a long, dark ponytail moved throughout the main floor, but there was no sign of Geneviève, and if not for finding Demi’s rental car in the driveway, Roderick would think he had the wrong address. He found it hard to believe that Geneviève had made the trip to Vielha by herself... His body tensed. Or had she? Had she traveled with the Spaniard? Were they lovers? Did the stranger own the cabin? Questions filled his mind as he considered what to do next.

  His cell phone rang from inside the center console, and he glanced down at the screen. He had missed calls and text messages from Althea and Demi, but decided to contact them after he found Geneviève. He didn’t want to give them false hope in case he was wrong about her location, and made a mental note to update them once he checked out the cabin.

  Roderick took off his sunglasses, tossed them on the passenger seat and rubbed his eyes.

  It had been a long day, filled with stressful, nerve-racking moments. That morning, as he was leaving the hotel parking lot, Demi had called to tell him that Geneviève had used her credit card at a gas station five hundred miles away from Madrid. He’d had a hunch that Geneviève had traveled to her favorite ski resort, and after swinging by the rental car company to trade the sports car for an SUV, he’d jumped on the expressway and headed east. Baqueira-Beret was the most popular resort in the country, and skiers flocked there for the manicured slopes, premier restaurants and world-class amenities. Though he suspected Geneviève had driven to the town because of its serene, isolated location.

  A door slammed, and the noise drew his gaze back to the cabin. The stranger put on winter gloves, hopped inside the black, late-model pickup truck parked in front of the house, then sped off.

  Roderick exited the SUV. Clutching his iPhone in one hand and a flashlight in the other, he jogged across the street. Snowplows chugged up the block, teenagers whizzed by on yellow snowmobiles and neighbors shoveled. The cold, blustery wind cut through his wool, knee-length jacket. Snow clung to the bottom of his leather shoes, soaking his silk socks, and Roderick cursed himself for not changing before leaving the hotel. In his haste to find Geneviève, he’d rushed through the door, and now his clothes were soaked.

  Roderick increased his pace. He didn’t want the Spaniard to return, find him on his property and start throwing punches. Pulling up his jacket collar, he glanced around to ensure no one was watching him, and nodded in greeting at the female dog-walker. Deciding to have a look around, he climbed the steps to the wraparound porch and peered inside the cabin.

  And there she was. Geneviève. The woman he desired and adored.

  Relief coursed through his body. He’d done it, solved the mystery of the missing pop star, and it was the greatest feeling in the world. Sitting at the baby grand piano in the corner of the room, Geneviève looked youthful and pretty in her burgundy, scoop-neck sweater dress and moccasin slippers. Her eyes were closed, but her fingers danced across the keys with finesse. She sang with passion and conviction, as if she were rocking the Grammy stage, and Roderick was so moved by her performance he wanted to cheer. Her strong, powerful voice penetrated the walls, warming his chilled body from head to toe.

  Roderick touched the window with his hand. He wished he could hold her, kiss her, tell her how much he cared about her and apologize for upsetting her on Saturday night. Geneviève must have sensed him watching her, because she opened her eyes and glanced over her shoulder. She spotted him standing on the porch, and froze.

  Roderick gestured for Geneviève to open the door, but she didn’t move. What the hell? It was freezing outside, snowing heavily, and after driving around all day, Roderick wasn’t in the mood for games. He needed to return to Madrid, and the sooner he got in his car and back on the freeway, the sooner he could fly to New York. Mr. Welker had called that afternoon, as Roderick was grabbing a coffee at a local café, and his boss had implored him to find the pop star or else.

  “Please?” he begged. “We need to talk.”

  Geneviève stood, then crossed the room. “Let me in. This will only take a minute.”

  Yanking open the door, she planted herself in the doorway. “How did you find me?”

  “You used your credit card, which was easy to track.” His cell phone rang. Roderick checked the number on the screen, then handed it to Geneviève, but she wouldn’t touch it. “It’s your mom. Answer it. She’s worried sick about you.”

  “I don’t want to talk to anyone right now, including you, so please leave.”

  Roderick swiped his finger across the screen and put his cell to his ear. She had a million questions, but he interrupted her. “Ms. Harris, please, calm down. Geneviève’s fine. I found her safe and sound in—”

  Geneviève plucked the iPhone out of his hand, pressed the End button and crossed her arms. “I don’t want anyone to know where I am,” she said, glaring at him with narrowed eyes. “I need some space, so if you don’t mind I’d like to be alone.”

  “You can’t get rid of me that easy. I’m a New Yorker and stubborn as hell.”

  His cell phone rang, and Geneviève glanced at the screen. A frown darkened her face.

  “Why is Demi calling you? Are you interested in my kid sister?”

  “No, she’s calling me for an update about you. She’s concerned, and rightfully so.”

  “I know, and I didn’t meant to upset them, but I had to get away.” Geneviève bit her bottom lip. “I don’t want to see them right now, and if you tell them where I’m staying they’ll come running, and that’s not what I want. I need some time alone, so please respect my wishes.”

  “I won’t tell them where you are. You can trust me.”

  Silence fell between them, lasting for several seconds.

  “Go back to Madrid. I don’t need you here. I can take care of myself.”

  Geneviève tried to close the door, but Roderick stuck his foot between the wooden frame.“I drove for hours in a snowstorm to find you, and you’re not even going to invite me inside for a cup of coffee?” Curious about her accommodations, he checked out the two-story cabin. It had vaulted ceilings, plush area rugs and furniture, and a stone fireplace. It was the perfect balance of comfort and elegance, and the log accents throughout the space were eye-catching.

  “You don’t deserve coffee or anything else. The last time I saw you, you threw me out of your hotel suite, so you can get the hell off my doorstep.”

  “Spoken like a true Philadelphian,” he joked. “With tons of sass, and plenty of attitude.”

  “Kiss my—”
<
br />   “With pleasure.” Cutting her off, Roderick stepped inside the foyer, backed her up against the door and crushed his lips to her mouth. She smelled of lavender, but the tranquil aroma didn’t calm him; it made his pulse pound. Her lips were the best thing he’d ever tasted, soft, lush and sweet, and Roderick was hooked. Needed and wanted more.

  And he was going to have her.

  Cupping her face in his hands, he inclined his head to the right and deepened the kiss. Lust barreled through his body, stealing his breath and his resolve. Their chemistry was explosive, impossible to deny, and her passionate kiss rocked him to the core. Geneviève let his tongue inside her mouth, tickled it with her own and a low groan vibrated inside the back of his throat. They’d crossed the line, passed the point of no return, and this time Roderick wasn’t going to deny himself the pleasure of her touch.

  Chapter 14

  Nothing made sense. Geneviève thought she was dreaming, but Roderick’s slow, sensuous kiss and his urgent caress were as real as her raging heartbeat. Caught off guard, yet instantly aroused, her knees buckled and she collapsed against his chest. The moment their lips touched, fireworks exploded behind her eyes. It was the most passionate kiss of her life, one she would never forget. Her emotions were overwhelming and confusing. Geneviève didn’t know how to feel, what to think. She didn’t understand why Roderick had followed her to Vielha, and why he’d barged into her rental cabin. Four days ago he’d rejected her, and now he was turning her inside out with his mouth and hands. Geneviève wanted to push him away, but being in his arms gave her a rush, and she was helpless to resist his touch.

  Her eyes fluttered closed. His cologne washed over her, filling her nostrils with a spicy, woodsy scent, and his groans played in her ears like a song on the radio. Roderick made her feel alive, desirable, and Geneviève struggled to keep her hands to herself and off his toned physique. Her palms were damp with perspiration, and goose bumps pricked her skin. That’s what Roderick did to her, how he made her feel every time he kissed her.

  Excitement built, filling every inch of the room. His hands traveled down her shoulders, across her breasts and along her hips. Geneviève welcomed his touch, yearned for more. She fantasized about all the things she wanted Roderick to do to her, could almost feel his tongue between her legs, swirling and twirling around her clit. At the thought, tingles rocked her spine.

  “Are you dating the Spanish guy with the ponytail?” he asked, pausing to look at her.

  “Why? Are you jealous?”

  “Of course not. I have no reason to be. I’m a Drake.” He winked. “And one of the most coveted bachelors in New York.”

  “I’m not dating anyone. Mr. Narváez owns this cabin and he wanted to make sure the fireplace was working properly before he returned to his villa in Barcelona,” she explained.

  “Good, we don’t have to worry about being interrupted.” He kissed the corner of her lips. “Geneviève, I want you so bad—”

  “Yeah, right,” she said, unable to resist speaking her mind. “Where was all this passion and desire on Saturday night when you kicked me out of your suite?”

  “Nothing’s changed. I wanted you then, and I want you now.”

  “Then why are you playing hard to get?”

  Roderick cocked an eyebrow. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

  “You’re not?”

  “No. We have a great relationship, and if we sleep together it could complicate things.”

  “Or not,” she said with a shrug. “I’m a big girl, Roderick. I can handle hooking up with a suave, dashing attorney. The question is whether or not you can handle a strong, feisty woman from North Philly who knows exactly who she is and what she wants.”

  “I’m not intimidated by you, Geneviève. I’m intrigued by you.” Roderick drew a finger across her cheek. “Your beauty shines from within, and your body is a masterpiece.”

  “It is?” A smile claimed her lips. “What’s your favorite part?”

  Roderick sucked on her earlobe. “Here.” He pressed his lips the curve of her neck. “Here.” He slid his hands over her bottom and squeezed it. “And definitely here.”

  Oh, yes! More please! Geneviève thought, closing her eyes. Her inner voice told her to end the kiss, to push him away, but instead of heeding the warning, she moved closer to him. Stroked every muscle on his hard, toned body. His touch was magic, instantly making her wet. There was no greater thrill than being in his arms, and kissing him gave Geneviève a high. A rush. He used his lips, his tongue and his hands to please her, and when Roderick whispered the word beautiful in her ear, happiness flooded her heart.

  “I want you to spend the night,” she confessed, pressing her lips against his throat.

  “If I wasn’t your attorney I’d carry you to the bedroom and—”

  Geneviève put a finger to his lips. “I’m not your client anymore, remember? My mom requested another attorney to oversee my affairs, and the senior partners agreed, so you’re off the hook, Roderick. You don’t have to babysit me anymore.”

  He snapped his fingers. “You’re right. I’m not. You know what that means, right? It’s on!”

  His smoldering gaze warmed her all over. Geneviève read the look in his eyes, knew they shared the same thought and draped her arms around his neck, pulling him close. He licked her ear with his tongue, and a shiver raced down her spine. He cupped her breasts through her clothes, squeezing and tweaking her nipples, just the way she liked. Geneviève wanted to tell Roderick she loved what he was doing with his hands, but she couldn’t get her lips to move. Couldn’t do anything but moan and groan.

  Passion ignited inside her. She felt as if she’d known Roderick all her life, as if they were meant to be together, and the more he kissed and caressed her the more Geneviève desired him. He possessed all of the qualities on her Boyfriend Wish List, right down to his taste in movies, music and novels. Best of all, he listened to her and respected her.

  He slid a hand under her dress. “You’re not wearing any panties.”

  “I know. You’re welcome.” Stroking the back of his head, she licked and nibbled his lower lip.

  “You’re trouble, you know that?” Desire shone in his eyes. “Where’s the bedroom?”

  Geneviève stepped past him, sashaying into the kitchen with the confidence of a world-class supermodel, and hopped onto the granite breakfast bar. “Who needs a bed when we have a strong, sturdy counter right here?” she asked, beckoning him over with a crook of her finger.

  “I couldn’t agree more.” Roderick crossed the room, took her in his arms and brushed his lips slowly against hers. “Geneviève, tell me what you need. What I can do to please you?”

  Taken aback by the question, and the sincerity of his voice, she sucked in a breath. Geneviève thought her ears were playing tricks on her. No one had ever treated her with such tenderness, such warmth, and she was moved by his words. They took turns undressing each other, kissing passionately as their clothes fell to the hardwood floor. Fulfilling her unspoken requests, Roderick caressed and massaged her body. Moans spilled from her lips. Lost in the moment, her breathing sped up and the muscles between her legs contracted. She quivered as their tongues tickled and teased each other.

  Overwhelmed by her emotions, Geneviève did something she’d never done before—she begged. She yearned to make love to him, and could no longer deny the needs of her flesh. “Roderick, I need you inside me...please don’t make me wait...it’s torture.”

  Desperate to feel him inside her, Geneviève slid a hand inside his boxers and stroked his erection with her palm. She relished in the moment, loved pleasing him with her hands. Her mouth watered at the sight of his dizzying, mind-blowing length. She wanted to taste him, to lick every inch of his erection, but Roderick covered it with a condom, spread her legs open and slid his shaft against her clit. Like a paintbrush, he moved his erection ba
ck and forth, ever so slowly, thrilling her with each delicious stroke.

  Waves of pleasure crashed into her. Afraid she’d scream and the neighbors would come running, Geneviève buried her face in the crook of his neck to stifle her moans. A warm sensation flooded her body, leaving her feeling weak and spent. Geneviève locked her legs around his waist, pulling him close. Exhilarated, she felt as if she were riding the wildest, fastest roller coaster ever. Kissing him, she ran her hands along his neck, his shoulders and across his back. To please him, she moved her lips over his smooth skin, and her teeth grazed his earlobe. Grasping the back of his head, she teased his flesh with her tongue. Melting and exploding at the same time, she closed her eyes and savored the moment.

  Intense emotions coursed through her, taking her by surprise. Geneviève was floating, flying high in the air. Roderick kissed her as if he was in complete control, and he was. He knew how to pleasure her, how to excite her, and she loved feeling him between her legs. She wasn’t shy about telling him what she wanted, and he fulfilled her every wish, over and over again. He thrilled her in ways she’d never imagined. Geneviève wanted to be with someone who cared about her, who had her best interests at heart, and Roderick was the only man she wanted. Her female intuition told her he was The One, her soul mate, and the thought of dating him exclusively made her heart sing. “This is amazing, you’re amazing and I—”

  Catching herself in time, she pressed her lips together to trap the truth inside her mouth.

  Roderick hiked her leg in the air, and pressed kisses along her inner thigh. His breathing was labored, his thrusts hard and deep, so powerful they stole her breath. Stroking his muscles was a turn-on, as erotic as his French kiss. There was a difference between making love and having sex, and even though Geneviève was sprawled out on the kitchen counter Roderick made her feel cherished and adored. She’d never had such strong feelings for anyone, and couldn’t think of anything better than making love to Roderick in the rustic cabin nestled in the woods.