Read Online Rulers of Deception by Katie Jennings - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Katie Jennings
Tags: Drama, Nora Roberts, Dallas, family drama, Danielle Steel, Gone With the Wind, scarlett o'hara, epic drama, dynasty, soap opera, dramatic stories, hotel magnate
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below her left ear, she felt her entire body ache for him.
“God, okay. Fast. Really fast,” she managed, letting him lift her dress and tear aside what little clothing kept him from her. In the distance somewhere far away she could hear the thrum of voices and the sound of the stage being taken apart, but it all seemed to fall away under the heat of his touch and the vibrating hum of need.
When he shifted her hips and drove himself into her, she stifled back a cry, biting his shoulder to keep the sound from escaping. Her hands grasped at his back as he held her tight against the wall, his movements suddenly desperate and feral. Just what had gotten into him, she couldn’t say. She could barely think with all the heat exploding through her system. There’d be bruises on her back, she was sure of it. Somehow she couldn’t care.
He kissed her as his body took what he needed, letting the jealousy fuel him. And as he watched the lake blue of her eyes darken in the dim light, dazed and rich with love for him, he let the rest of it all go.
Wyatt wandered into the bathroom, carrying a glass of red wine. He sat on the edge of the tub and handed it to Madison. “My lady.”
She sipped at the wine, then eyed him deviously. “You opened my ’99 Shiraz. You must think I’m suicidal.”
He shrugged. “You came home, unplugged the phone, then threw our wedding gift from McAllister into the fireplace. If you’re not suicidal, then you’re at least angry about something. And I’m gonna guess it has to do with him.”
She sighed, letting her head fall back against the lip of the tub. “This time I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“All right. Though I did like that first edition copy of The Fountainhead .” He reached over to brush aside a strand of hair that had fallen over her forehead, his fingers lingering over the skin of her cheek. Gently, he turned her head to face him. When her eyes opened, he grinned. “You have twenty seconds to enjoy that tub before I climb in there with you.”
A playful spark lit in her eyes. “Is that a threat, darling?”
“I’d like to think of it as an inevitability.” He chuckled as he stood and lifted off his black T-shirt, discarding it on the floor. Before he could unbutton his jeans, something out the window caught his eye.
He stepped closer, squinting into the darkness in an attempt to see better. Outside on the quiet street, a non-descript black van was parked. Though it was nearly nine o’clock at night, he caught the outline of someone sitting in the driver’s seat. Light from one of the streetlamps flashed over the lens of a camera, and he could almost hear the sound of the shutter clicking.
He’d seen paparazzi outside Madison’s townhouse before, but not in awhile. It was possible they were bored and hunting up something new to gossip about, though for some reason he questioned that rationalization.
Deciding not to worry Madison over it, he shut the blinds and slipped out of his jeans.
“Why don’t I take you out to lunch tomorrow?” he suggested, thinking he’d see if the van showed up at the hotel, too.
Madison set aside her wine and leaned over to rest her arms on the lip of the tub, eyeing him with a seductive smile. “Sure. Now get in here before the water gets cold.”
“With you in there, sweetheart, that water doesn’t stand a chance of cooling off.”
W hen Wyatt pulled into the valet area of the hotel the next day, his eyes scanned for the black van. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary eased his mind and had him adding an extra twenty to the Valet for a tip.
He adjusted his black fedora and removed his aviator sunglasses as he entered the lobby, feeling sentimental as he took in the beauty that surrounded him. Madison’s doing, he knew. Everything from the carefully selected damask fabric on the sofas and chairs in hues of royal blue and gold to the travertine tile floor showcased her love of tradition
“God, okay. Fast. Really fast,” she managed, letting him lift her dress and tear aside what little clothing kept him from her. In the distance somewhere far away she could hear the thrum of voices and the sound of the stage being taken apart, but it all seemed to fall away under the heat of his touch and the vibrating hum of need.
When he shifted her hips and drove himself into her, she stifled back a cry, biting his shoulder to keep the sound from escaping. Her hands grasped at his back as he held her tight against the wall, his movements suddenly desperate and feral. Just what had gotten into him, she couldn’t say. She could barely think with all the heat exploding through her system. There’d be bruises on her back, she was sure of it. Somehow she couldn’t care.
He kissed her as his body took what he needed, letting the jealousy fuel him. And as he watched the lake blue of her eyes darken in the dim light, dazed and rich with love for him, he let the rest of it all go.
Wyatt wandered into the bathroom, carrying a glass of red wine. He sat on the edge of the tub and handed it to Madison. “My lady.”
She sipped at the wine, then eyed him deviously. “You opened my ’99 Shiraz. You must think I’m suicidal.”
He shrugged. “You came home, unplugged the phone, then threw our wedding gift from McAllister into the fireplace. If you’re not suicidal, then you’re at least angry about something. And I’m gonna guess it has to do with him.”
She sighed, letting her head fall back against the lip of the tub. “This time I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“All right. Though I did like that first edition copy of The Fountainhead .” He reached over to brush aside a strand of hair that had fallen over her forehead, his fingers lingering over the skin of her cheek. Gently, he turned her head to face him. When her eyes opened, he grinned. “You have twenty seconds to enjoy that tub before I climb in there with you.”
A playful spark lit in her eyes. “Is that a threat, darling?”
“I’d like to think of it as an inevitability.” He chuckled as he stood and lifted off his black T-shirt, discarding it on the floor. Before he could unbutton his jeans, something out the window caught his eye.
He stepped closer, squinting into the darkness in an attempt to see better. Outside on the quiet street, a non-descript black van was parked. Though it was nearly nine o’clock at night, he caught the outline of someone sitting in the driver’s seat. Light from one of the streetlamps flashed over the lens of a camera, and he could almost hear the sound of the shutter clicking.
He’d seen paparazzi outside Madison’s townhouse before, but not in awhile. It was possible they were bored and hunting up something new to gossip about, though for some reason he questioned that rationalization.
Deciding not to worry Madison over it, he shut the blinds and slipped out of his jeans.
“Why don’t I take you out to lunch tomorrow?” he suggested, thinking he’d see if the van showed up at the hotel, too.
Madison set aside her wine and leaned over to rest her arms on the lip of the tub, eyeing him with a seductive smile. “Sure. Now get in here before the water gets cold.”
“With you in there, sweetheart, that water doesn’t stand a chance of cooling off.”
W hen Wyatt pulled into the valet area of the hotel the next day, his eyes scanned for the black van. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary eased his mind and had him adding an extra twenty to the Valet for a tip.
He adjusted his black fedora and removed his aviator sunglasses as he entered the lobby, feeling sentimental as he took in the beauty that surrounded him. Madison’s doing, he knew. Everything from the carefully selected damask fabric on the sofas and chairs in hues of royal blue and gold to the travertine tile floor showcased her love of tradition
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