TATIANA: Book Three; The Trouble Sisters Saga Read online

  Zane stared at her and then groaned, a long, slow appreciative sound. “Damn, woman. I didn’t think anything could be more scintillating than the dress you wore last night or that sophisticated suit you wore today. But fucking Christ, sweetheart, how am I supposed to eat dinner with a woman wearing an outfit guaranteed to turn her lover into a drooling idiot?”

  Knowing that her cheeks were flaming, Tatiana managed to smile. “Can I assume you like it and that I truly don’t look like a slave girl escaping from a sultan’s harem?”

  Zane’s eyes crinkled in a salacious smile. “Hey, I didn’t say that! Besides, I’ve always wondered how a sultan felt knowing that he’d captured the most gorgeous woman in his harem.”

  As if realizing the allusion to harems had introduced quicksand into their conversation, Zane tried to recover by changing the subject. “I thought rather than eating in our chalet tonight or, God forbid, going to the B&B dining room where there might be other guests, how about we trek down the path to the Sidewinder Bar and Grill? According to our hosts, it has the best barbecue in the Valley and a heck of a seventies rock band.”

  Tatiana breathed a huge sigh of relief. She hadn’t known how tense she was from anticipating a private dinner on the deck that was guaranteed to turn into a love scene. Not incidentally, with someone who was quite simply the sexiest man she’d ever known. She admitted that even before her father’s party, she’d been attracted to Zane. How could she not be? But as enticed as she was, she was also frightened. Her untoward response to him when he’d deposited her on her doorstep after the birthday party, while wildly exciting at the moment, had become a fomenting source of worry. She didn’t have to remind herself how long it had been since she’d felt desire. Heck, she’d never come close to the passion she’d experienced in Zane’s strong arms. Her complicated, destructive marriage had more than ensured that whatever lust she was capable of was dormant, if it even existed. Swallowing hard, she didn’t have to see the gleam in Zane’s dark cerulean eyes to know that her passion, or lack thereof, was about to be put to the test. After all, as he’d warned her last night, they were done with foreplay.

  Chapter 15

  Do you have any idea how extraordinary your speech was today, Tatiana, how magnificent you were? You truly brought down the house.”

  She’d nearly finished her second glass of wine and, having chomped through a basket of cheese-covered french fries and the best barbecued ribs she’d ever tasted, Tatiana looked up at Zane in surprise. She’d almost forgotten her speech. It seemed a million miles away from the dark, smoky bar with the great rock and roll band. She didn’t know if it was because she didn’t want to go to the issues that controlled too much of her life, but Tatiana found herself not wanting to discuss her speech.

  “Um, uh, thanks. I appreciate it, but if you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about it now. It’s just that . . . that’s where I spend most of my waking and sleeping hours. Right now I’d rather—”

  Zane reached out and put a finger against her lips, stopping her words. His eyes lit up with his smile. “No need to say it. Can I surmise, given that you’ve ploughed your way through the better part of a basket of french fries and half a rack of ribs, you might be hungry for a change of scene?”

  She knew that he was referring to more than food that she was hungry for. Loosened by the wine she’d drunk and driven by the throbbing beat of the truly excellent band, she tossed her head, not caring if she was blushing. She admitted it felt damn good to let down a little. Hearing the opening notes of Creedence Clearwater’s “Proud Mary,” she shot him a challenging smile. “How about it, Mr. Fancy District Attorney? Can you dance?”

  His responding grin was as provocative as his reply. “Can I dance? Tell you what, sexy lady, let’s see if you can keep up with me.”

  Working their way through a roster of the greatest rock and roll songs of the 70s, Tatiana didn’t know if it was the wine, the great band, or that Zane was an amazingly good dancer, but she found herself letting go of what felt like layers of shale. It was as though with each classic oldie, she was rediscovering the carefree, fun-loving teenager she’d been too long ago.

  Acknowledging how much she’d always loved to dance, without intending to, she remembered when she’d stopped dancing. It was when she met Arnold. He’d hated watching her dance. He claimed that she was making a spectacle of herself. Insisted that she only did it to get attention from other men. He wouldn’t even dance with her at their wedding. He’d said, with a sneer, why the fuck should he allow her to put herself on display for all those leering men?

  She realized that Zane had grabbed her hand and was frowning at her. “Hey, sweetheart, what’s that look about?”

  Shocked that she’d betrayed herself, Tatiana shook her head. “Uh, nothing. I . . . was just . . . thirsty . . . ”

  Zane’s narrowed gaze confirmed that he didn’t believe her excuse, but he shrugged and smiled at her. “That, my dancing wonder, is easy enough to remedy.” Tugging on her hand, he led her back to their table. Emptying the rest of the wine into their glasses, he signaled for another bottle and then topped off their glasses. Sipping on the wine, Tatiana forced the disquieting thoughts of Arnold out of her mind and concentrated instead on the tall man lounging in the chair beside her. Concerned that he may have intuited the ugly memories she was determined to forget, she took several larger-than-necessary swallows of wine, grateful for its relaxing effects. At that moment, as if challenging her to remember who she was, the provocative notes of Rod Stewart’s “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy” echoed across the room. Glancing at the lead singer, who threw her an openly teasing invitation, she leapt to her feet and held out her hand to Zane, who was beside her in seconds.

  Prancing onto the dance floor, she allowed her body to sway to the suggestive words. Almost unconsciously, without intending to, she began to move in sync to the amped up beat. As her movements intensified, Zane whooped and stepped back. Clapping his hands, he urged her on. Surprised at her daring, she raised her hands over her head and gave in to the erotic words and beat in a way she’d forgotten she was capable of. As the song came to a rousing close, Tatiana was stunned when the excited audience, including the band and her openly enthralled date, gave her a standing ovation—replete with rowdy cheers. Knowing she should be embarrassed, she couldn’t help but laugh in excitement when Zane jerked her up against him and crowed, “Holy shit, girl, are you hot or what!”

  Glancing at the grinning band leader, Zane winked at him. “How about slowing down a bit, man, so the sexiest woman in the world and her smitten lover can catch our breaths?”

  The long-haired guy gave him a thumbs-up. “Sure thing, dude. You both deserve it. How about this?”

  When the notes to “Ain’t Nobody Gonna Stop Us Now” sounded, Zane groaned aloud. Pulling her close to him, he ensured that her thighs were firmly ensconced against his impossible-to-miss arousal. Her gasp confirmed that his cock had more than made itself apparent. Rubbing his hands across her back, he eased them over her curvy bottom, pulling her tighter against his burgeoning erection. When the band cranked out “Let’s Get It On,” Zane reached for her chin, forcing her to meet his heated gaze. “Do you think they have our number, darlin’?”

  Knowing that she shouldn’t have had that third glass of wine, Tatiana clung to him. It was as though the music had scraped away years of resistance, peeling back the protective layers she’d secured around herself. As the openly sensual Bob Dylan tribute to erotic love “Lay Lady Lay” slithered across the room, Zane held her even closer to his prominent arousal. When the band leader upped the ante and purred the sexily explicit lines, “Lay lady lay, lay on my big brass bed . . . ,” Tatiana wasn’t surprised when Zane emitted a deep groan and muttered, “Oh Christ, they’ve done it now.” When she wrapped her arms around his neck in response to his erotic invitation and pressed up against him with a shuddering moan, he grunted. “Fuck yes, sweetheart. That definitely does it.” Giving up any pretense of danc
ing, he held her tightly against him with one strong arm. Tossing a C-note on their table and nodding to the band, he tossed another couple of Benjamins beside the first, then shepherded her out of the bar into the cool, dark night.

  Shocked at the sensations flooding across her thighs and arcing up to her throbbing core, Tatiana cried out when Zane stopped and pressed her up against the side of the tavern. Not sure if she could breathe, much less survive the shower of electric sparks exploding between her legs, she dug her fingernails into his scalp, desperately needing him to hold her tighter, not let her go. When he lifted her up against the wall and wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing his formidable erection against her dampening crotch, she couldn’t contain the fevered cry that burst from her lips. Knowing that she might die or at least faint if she couldn’t come, she sobbed, “Oh God, Zane, help me! I . . . I need to . . . ”

  Not able to say the words, she gave in to the torrent of sensations overtaking her. At her fevered cry, he groaned a deep, hard male sound. “Holy Christ, sweetheart. You hot, hot woman. Give in to it, baby. Come, darlin’. Come for me. Like that. Just like that. God, yes! Whatever you do, sexy woman, don’t stop.”

  ****

  After the raging tremors coursing over her had calmed somewhat and her passionate cries had become murmuring sobs of ecstasy, Zane stood her on the ground and then picked her up in his arms and held her tight against his chest. Whispering soft words of praise, he celebrated her for her abandon, her unexpectedly passionate response to him. He was confident that she was as stunned by her explosive climax as he was and wanted to reassure her, make sure she knew that her wildly fervent response had excited him as much as it had clearly excited her. Even as he held her trembling body in his arms, he was chastened by her stunning reaction. He’d known in his gut that she was a passionate woman, but he’d never expected her to respond the way she did. Holy Christ, he didn’t even get his fucking zipper down. To his amazement, the sexy songs and their erotic dancing were sufficient to bring her to a rampant climax, against the wall of the tavern, perilously close to the entrance. His prick throbbed at the thought of what he could do to her, the excitement he would give her when he had her naked body in his arms, his raging cock high up in her glorious cunt.

  Carefully carrying her up the moonlit path, Zane was startled to hear the sensuous sounds of Chris Botti’s inimitable trumpet drifting through the cool night air. Arriving at their hideaway, he was grateful to see that some erotic elf had lit the fireplaces in the master bedroom and on the deck. In addition, lighted candles surrounded the hot tub, casting sparkling shadows across the rippling water. Three bottles of wine—a Chardonnay, a Cabernet, and a bottle of champagne—were on the counter. Each was in an individual chiller carefully set to the proper temperature for the particular wine. Through the glass door of the outdoor refrigerator, he saw several platters of luscious food—a spectacular array of meats, seafood, cheeses, and colorful vegetables. Silently thanking his anonymous partner in amatory extravagances, Zane acknowledged he must have done something right in his heretofore profligate lifestyle to deserve such an extraordinary reprieve.

  Feeling her arms tighten around his neck, he bowed his head to hear her stammered query, “Where . . . where are we, Zane?”

  He chuckled and murmured softly, “As near as I can tell, sweetheart, we are as close to heaven as either of us could hope to be—at least while we’re alive.”

  When she struggled against him, he cradled her more tightly, knowing that she had to be disoriented. “It’s okay, sweet woman. We’re on the deck of our extraordinary hideaway, where I swear I could live the rest of my life. As long as I have you in my arms the way I do now.”

  She buried her face against his chest, then murmured tremulously, “Zane . . . I . . . I don’t know what happened to me . . . what I did . . . ”

  He carried her over to the oversized chaise lounge and carefully laid her on the cushioned surface. Sinking down beside her, he held her chin between his finger and his thumb, forcing her to meet his impassioned gaze. “In answer to your question? As to what you did, Tatiana? To put it succinctly, extraordinary woman, you blew my fucking mind!” At her wide-eyed startle, he added with a groan, “To be specific, you had one of the most powerful climaxes it’s been my privilege to witness. And yeah, sweetheart, that was after you brought a tavern full of horny men to attention watching the sexiest fucking woman I’ve ever seen shake her superlative ass in a way that none of us will ever forget. As if that weren’t enough stimulation for my randy prick, when I dragged you out of the bar, you were so turned on, it was clear we weren’t going to make it to a bed. Hell no, my only option was to have you against the tavern wall, a few feet away from the exit, no less. But, honey, even though my cock was screaming to get inside of you, it was clear nothing as insignificant as my raging prick could hold you back. Which led to that aforementioned powerful climax it was my privilege to witness.”

  Her cheeks flaming, Tatiana buried her face against his shoulder, clinging to him. After a long moment, she lifted her face to him. He wasn’t surprised to see the tears welling in her expressive eyes. What did surprise him was the soft smile tugging at her swollen lips when she stammered, “I . . . I did that, Zane? All of that?”

  He chortled and tugged her next to him, not surprised to feel the moisture fighting the backs of his eyelids. Holding her tighter, he murmured, “Yeah, Tatiana, you did that, all of that. And, sweetheart, so much more.”

  Chapter 16

  Honestly, Zane, after all that I ate at the bar, I can’t believe how hungry I am.” Tatiana put another shrimp, several slices of prosciutto, and two roasted asparagus spears on her plate. Hearing his chuckle, she looked up at him in surprise, an embarrassed flush staining her pale cheeks. “I know, you must think I’m a glutton. Really, I never eat like this . . . why, most days I forget to eat lunch, I’m so busy.”

  Zane lifted an amused brow and chided her. “Hmm, do you think it might be that you danced circles around a bar full of rock and roll aficionados for nearly two hours and then physically attacked me?” At her shriek, he added with a grin, “As if that weren’t enough, that righteous orgasm you shocked me with had to have required at least a thousand calories or more.” Laughing at her embarrassment, he added, “Hell, if anything I’m going to have to ply you with at least another platter of food and see that you finish off that second bottle of wine. After all, what I have in mind for dessert, sweetheart, is going to require more than calories.”

  “Hmm, like what?”

  “Well, to begin with, courage.”

  She frowned. “I don’t know if I like the sound of that. Um . . . why am I going to need courage?”

  “That’s simple. Because, darlin’, I plan to take you places where neither one of us have been before.”

  “I can understand why I need to be courageous, but good grief. If anything, you are the epitome of a courageous man. You’re Special Ops and all that.” She added with a dismissive shrug, “Not to mention that you are an acknowledged ladies’ man with more than—”

  He stopped her, firmly shaking his head. “Yeah, I have a lot of that kind of courage and, yes, for better or worse, a hell of a lot of experience. But what I intend to do to you tonight is in another realm entirely.”

  At her clearly worried frown, he smiled and stroked her cheek. “Let me try to explain, Tatiana. For the first time in my life, I’m planning to make love to a woman I’ve wanted in a way that I never have before.”

  “I don’t understand. How . . . what way?”

  “Let me put it like this. For the first time in my life, I admit that I’m not the one completely in control of what happens between us.”

  “And that uncertainty requires courage? Scares you?”

  “Frankly, my darling, it scares the shit out of me. But enough about that. At this moment, I think I’ll rely on my usual arrogant MO.” Looking at the terrycloth robe she’d secured tightly around her, he quirked a cocky brow. “Even
though I have essentially assaulted you one, two, and if tonight counts, three times, I have never seen you naked. I think it’s high time to remedy that oversight.”

  Tatiana jumped back with a start. She didn’t know why she was surprised. Zane had made it crystal clear since the night on her doorstep that he intended to make love to her when they got to Tucson. If anything, she should be surprised that he didn’t force the issue last night at the hotel. That he hadn’t and, moreover, had taken her to a rib shack for dinner instead of accosting her when they arrived at the chalet spoke to his surprising restraint. Or more likely to his expertise in the fine art of wooing a woman. Good God, even after she’d literally come apart in his arms against the wall of the tavern, he’d held back.

  Instead of taking advantage of her discombobulated state when they returned to the chalet, he’d sent her into the bedroom to change if she wished. Staring at herself in the mirror, it was clear why he might think she needed a breather. Her hair was a riotous fiery cloud of curls, and her face looked permanently flushed. And, she realized with a surprised start, so did her chest. She’d slipped into the shower and forced herself to take deep, calming breaths. Drying herself off, she’d considered wearing just the fleecy robe that an aspiring ladies’ maid had left on the bed. Instead, she’d decided she needed more layers of protection. For a moment, she wished she’d taken Tara up on her offer and borrowed some of her beautiful lingerie. But she hadn’t needed to. The first thing she had done for herself after she got rid of Arnold was buy extravagant lingerie. The kinds of sexy things he’d refused to let her wear, claiming they were as perverted as she was. But she knew they weren’t. Rather, they were her declaration that she was a beautiful, desirable woman. Slipping the robe over her lacy bra and thong, she’d returned to the deck, where the sexiest, most intimidating man she’d ever known was waiting for her.