Can't Buy Me Love Read online

  Paige slid her arms around his neck and thrust her fingers into the rich wetness of his hair. The cold turned to warmth at her touch. He kissed her and kissed her. Her head bent back under the force of his passion, and under the force of her own passion, she kissed him back, matching him nibble for nibble, each thrust of his tongue with one of her own until all clear thought flew from her mind. All she could think of—all she wanted to think of—was Blake’s lips on hers, his hands slipping between them and releasing the remaining buttons on her vest, his fingers sliding under her skirt.

  She was totally aware of him and how every inch of him fit against her and dimly aware when he picked her up and carried her into her room. He laid her on the bed as if she was a cherished possession that he might crush with his desires if he didn’t handle her with care.

  His lips returned to her mouth, feeding off the sweet pressure. Then he trailed tender nibbles mixed with scorching kisses down the side of her throat and to the curve of her breast. Paige drew in a quick breath as he lifted his head, his gaze blazing into hers.

  “God, I want you.” He dropped his head and kissed the swell of her breasts as his nimble fingers deftly unhooked the front clasp of her bra.

  Paige shuddered at his warm mouth in such an intimate place and the scrape of his teeth against her passion-sensitized skin.

  “You walked into that room tonight, and I wanted you so badly I could have taken you right there with everyone watching.” His words halted as he ran his tongue from the gentle swell where her breast started to the peak where it crested. “I’ve wanted you all night,” he murmured against her skin, then turned his head to pay the same homage to the other breast.

  Paige slid her fingers into his hair holding him in place as his tongue, lips, and teeth tormented her with ecstasy. “I’ve wanted you all my life,” she gasped as she urged his mouth up to meet hers.

  It was the dream of a lifetime to be held in his arms and loved like a coveted treasure, nearly driven over the edge of sanity with desire. With his lips, his hands, his body, he made her feel wanted, desired, loved and yes, even beautiful.

  She basked in the glory and the power of his caress. He ran his hand from neck to breast, then down over the dip of her waist and the curve of her hip.

  Then he slid his hand between them and found her heat. Paige’s breath grew ragged when he found the moistness there and urged her further toward their ultimate goal: her acceptance of him and the loving he had to give. The feel of his hand on her, where she ached for him, was almost too much to bear. She reached out to steady herself, to find some anchor in her spinning world.

  Her trembling fingers encountered the heavy thud of his heart then ventured downward, not finding the steady foundation she needed, but instead a whole new set of sensations.

  She closed her eyes and envisioned in her mind the contours that her hands traveled. The muscles that tightened under her fingers, the lightly tanned skin, and the crisp mat of hair that covered them. She could see in her mind’s eye the tapering of that rusty-brown hair just below his navel even as her fingers traced it. Then downward to the evidence of his need, hard and uncompromising in his hunger. The skin felt like velvet upon the steel of his desire.

  “Paige,” he groaned, then moved away from her inquisitive touch.

  She opened her eyes just as he covered her again, this time with his entire body, his entire being. She felt him press against her. She opened herself to his search for fulfillment, for her own search for fulfillment.

  He entered her. Paige bit her lip, when his questioning eyes met hers.

  “Paige?”

  She shook her head, then pulled his mouth to hers, rocking against him to dispel all the questions she didn’t want him to voice.

  It worked. For now. But she knew that she’d have to answer eventually, why out of all the men in the world, he was her first.

  She pushed against him again, catching his rhythm all the while trying to protect her heart. He delved deep, seeming to touch her soul with every thrust that took her one step away from this world and one step closer to a place she had never been.

  His eyes met hers and locked. She watched as the emotions crossed his face, knowing they mirrored her own. Overwhelming desire, driving need, followed by ecstasy as the pleasure they shared urged them to climax.

  He cradled her head against his chest and neither one spoke as they both tried to recover their breath. What was there to say? No words could follow what had just happened between them. Not even I love you. And love him she did. Her feelings no longer bordered on admiration and respect, but had tumbled headlong into the purest emotion of them all.

  ****

  Sunshine filtered in through the white lace curtains when Blake awoke. Paige’s room. Paige’s bed. Paige in his arms.

  She was even more beautiful asleep, her expression satisfied and content in the sparkling morning sun.

  The room around them was bright and airy, filled with promise and hope unlike his own room which for the past few months had seemed dark and empty. Perhaps he would move his things in here. He looked down at her sleeping face again. Yes, he could grow very accustomed to waking up with Paige every morning.

  She murmured something in her sleep and cuddled closer to him, her bare bottom pressing against his nakedness.

  Later. He would move his clothes into her room much, much later. For now, he had more important things to do.

  He ran his hand up the satin length of her arm, across the graceful curve of her shoulder and to the mound of her breast.

  Paige stirred and then her eyes fluttered open as he coerced the nipple into a hard little peak. She blinked at him as if trying to remember where and why and how. Then she sighed, giving him a fuller range of motion.

  “Good morning,” he murmured, gently raking his teeth across the skin of her earlobe.

  “You sure know how to wake a girl.”

  “It’s all in the wrist.” He dropped his mouth to hers and neatly rolled her onto her back. “I’ve got to go to work,” he murmured against her lips, then he kissed her again.

  “But you’re the boss.”

  Another kiss.

  “All the more reason.”

  Kiss.

  “You could go in late.”

  Kiss.

  “Yes, I think I will.”

  And sometime really soon, he needed to ask why she hadn’t told him that she was a virgin.

  ****

  “Blake, I need to go into town today. I have some errands to run.”

  “Today?” Blake folded his paper and set it beside his empty breakfast plate. He couldn’t concentrate on it anyway, not with Paige sitting mere feet away. But it had been either read the paper or pull her across the dinette table and make love to her right out here on the porch. Granted loving her just once more he went to the office won hands down, but the kind of things he had in mind were best carried out in private. “You are coming to the fashion show.”

  She shrugged. “I hadn’t really thought about it.”

  “Well, think about it. I want you to be there.” He rose from the table as the pretty shade of pink filtered into her cheeks. He really needed to be getting to work. He had a million and one things to do. But he wanted to kiss her just once more before he left. A kiss to last him the whole day through—until tonight. God, he couldn’t wait that long.

  He raised his lips from hers just enough to whisper the words. “The fashion show starts at three. Come by early. I can think of some interesting ways to christen the conference table.”

  “You’ve got a deal,” she whispered in return. “But I don’t have a way into town. My car’s at the shop.”

  “Take the Cadillac,” he said, then kissed her again.

  “It’s huge.”

  “It’s big, but you can handle it.”

  “Blake, the Pacific Princess is big. There’s enough room in that car for eight people in the front seat and the dance band in the back.”

  Blake lau
ghed. “It’s not that big. I’m sure it weighs less than most buses.”

  “Okay,” she sighed. “The truth is I’d rather not drive her car.”

  “I don’t think she’d care.”

  Paige shuddered, and Blake had the feeling that it wasn’t from passion. “But that was your aunt’s car, and she’s...

  “Dead?” Devin supplied as he sauntered into the room.

  Paige started guiltily as if she had been caught in the act of necking in the backseat rather than kissing her husband.

  “Did Holmes tell you that she died in that car on her way to the hospital? Some people want to die at home, but not our dear auntie. She was much more comfortable in her car. Isn’t that right, Blake?”

  Blake straightened but ignored his brother. He centered his gaze on the side of Paige’s mouth. He knew that if he looked her in the eye neither of them was going anyplace—Devin or no Devin. “Have Anthony drive you into town. He’s not so intimidated by the car.”

  “I don’t want to ride in it either.”

  Blake sighed and reached into the pocket of his trousers. He fished out a set of keys. “Take my car. I’ll drive the Caddy.”

  Twenty minutes later Blake stood outside in the fresh early-summer air, waiting for Anthony to bring around the two-toned ‘68 Cadillac that had been Aunt Virginia’s second pride and joy—right after that pitiful excuse for a dog.

  “Nice day out, ain’t it, Mr. Caldwell?”

  Blake turned his face away from the sun and looked to Maurice, the gardener, who was trimming the flowers in the front flower beds with the same careful attention he gave all the blooms on the estate. It was that same vigilance that made riotous colors explode all over the grounds when other people were just beginning to plan their own gardens. For Maurice it was therapy. Time well spent away from the bottle.

  “Incredible,” Blake answered, his mind more on Paige than the weather.

  Just then, Blake’s white Mercedes came twisting along the winding drive that led to the house.

  “That’s Mrs. Caldwell,” Maurice said unnecessarily.

  “She must have forgotten something,” Blake added as he watched her wavering progress down the drive. The car gathered speed on the slight incline that led into the circular drive with its ridiculous fountain.

  The morning sun flashed upon the windshield, nearly blinding Blake and hiding Paige from his view as the Mercedes bore down upon him. Surely she would slow down and stop long before she neared him, but she was going fast, too fast.

  Blake dove head first into the fountain, the shiny chrome bumper missing him by mere seconds.

  “Blake!” Paige’s scream penetrated the whining of the warped tires and the hiss of the German radiator. “Blake, are you all right?”

  Blake shook the water out of his ears and wiped his eyes. “I’m fine.” Physically he was in great shape, but his temper and his ego were not doing so well. He counted to ten, then climbed out of the fountain and surveyed the damage.

  “Are you sure?” Her hands started performing that flighty dance across his wet torso. Blake grabbed them in his own to stop their injury exploration.

  “Did you not see me standing there?”

  She shook her head. “The sun was in my eyes. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Peachy.”

  “That was just so scary. I couldn’t control the car.”

  Blake shifted his weight and water squirted out of the side of his left shoe. “Did you think about stopping the car? Or did you naturally assume that all cars have brakes like yours?”

  “I didn’t think about the brakes.” She bit her lip, but this time Blake’s libido was firmly in check.

  “Why were you driving toward the house instead of away from it?”

  “I forgot Bruno. I’m so glad he wasn’t in the car with me. Oh, Blake your head’s bleeding.” She reached up and pressed her fingers to the cut near his hairline.

  So far it had been one hell of a morning.

  Two hours and six stitches later, Blake was on the phone with an insurance claims adjuster. Just as he had known, the Mercedes was totaled. In the span of a few short minutes his accident prone wife had managed to kill a German car, a hand-tailored Parisian suit, and a pair of Italian wing tips. She was an international menace.

  “Be sure and have the mechanic check the steering column for possible damage. My wife said she had trouble controlling the car. Give me a call later and let me know what you find. You can leave a message with my secretary.”

  A hesitant knock sounded at the door just as Blake replaced the receiver.

  “I hate to bother you, Mr. Caldwell.” Henry, the janitor, hovered on the threshold to Blake’s office. He nervously twisted the ball cap he held in his hands. “Your secretary wasn’t at her desk...and I..I needed to talk to you. I know I should have told you sooner, but I was worried.”

  “Just what are you trying to tell me, Henry? I don’t have a lot of time. Does this have something to do with the fashion show?” Blake checked his watch. He really needed to be going. He had to make sure everything was in place.

  “No, sir. It don’t have nothing to do with the fashion show. Everything’s all cleaned up down there. It’s just that the other day...I was cleaning underneath the sewing machine. And I’m afraid it’s all my fault. The Singer would have never fallen if I hadn’t left it so close to the edge.”

  ****

  Backstage at a fashion show was an entirely different world. Paige wandered around behind the scenes trying hard to absorb it all and still stay out of everyone’s way. Partially clothed women hurried back and forth between the seamstress and the hairdresser seemingly oblivious to the dominantly male backstage crew. Lydia was undergoing a last minute makeup change, and Blake was discussing his wishes with the lighting man. Her husband amazed her. He had countless, perfectly capable employees and yet he insisted on being intimately involved in the smallest details. It was his caring and concern that had made Caldwell so great.

  She could think about that. She could think about him. What she couldn’t think about was what last night meant to her and her heart. She had fallen in love with Blake. Irrevocably, forever in love with him, a man she had agreed to divorce. Loving him was useless, stupid, a dead-end street. But she couldn’t stop her stubborn heart. She could only make the best of what time she did have with him and hope that Maddie was right and a cardiac specialist could put her heart back together once her marriage to Blake was over.

  He waved her over as the lighting man left.

  “The show’s going to begin soon,” Blake said as he wrapped one arm around her waist. “Stay close, okay? After it’s over, I’ll give you your third birthday surprise.”

  “But I thought that’s what last night was all about,” Paige teased.

  “Oh, no.” He shook his head. “But you’re going to like this one almost as much.”

  He kissed the corner of her mouth and started toward the stage.

  Blake was the natural choice to emcee the show. His voice was deep, smooth and showed that he cared about each of the designs. The press loved the fact that the CEO took such a strong interest in each facet of the company, and each won-over reporter was a potential feather in Blake’s business cap.

  Lydia was perfect and beautiful and of course was introduced as Paige Caldwell’s sister. Another feather with the press. The media adored a big company with family values. Paige watched the entire show from backstage, standing so that a heavy curtain separated her from the eyes for the other onlookers, but she could still watch Blake. The night and the morning they had shared had been incredible. She wanted to relive each kiss, each caress, over and over in her mind, but a part of her was afraid that if she dwelt on the passion too much the magic would disappear. No, she shook her head silently. Nothing could change what had happened between them. It had been too beautiful.

  “Before we close for the afternoon, I have an announcement to make.” Blake turned his head toward her. “Paige, cou
ld you come out here, please?”

  She pointed to herself and Blake nodded. He hadn’t told her she was going to have to come out in front of all these people to receive her surprise.

  “As many of you know I recently married,” he continued as Paige stepped hesitantly onto the stage and made her way to his side. “But no one knew, not even myself, what a treasure I had found.” He slipped an arm around her waist, comforting and supporting.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to introduce my wife, Paige Caldwell, the newest member of the Caldwell design team.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Holding Paige in his arms. That was all Blake could think about on the drive to the airport. It was all he could think about as he watched Paige hug her sister good-bye. And it was all he could think about as he pulled Devin’s car into the driveway.

  He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Last night he had learned every nuance of her expressions. Passion, wanting, need, happiness. The look she wore now was not the joy he had expected to see when she accepted the position at Caldwell. Surely she just needed some time to get used to the idea of working for him—working with him. After all it wasn’t every day she went from Happy Millionaire’s Housewife to Professional Designer.

  “How about a drink?” Devin suggested after Anthony had taken the car to the garage and the trio had entered the house. “I think the occasion calls for celebration.”

  Blake slipped his arm around his wife. He didn’t want a drink. He wanted to be alone with Paige. Three may not really be a crowd, but it was one too many for what he had in mind.

  “What occasion?” Paige asked.

  Devin paused in the doorway of the study. “You know. The two of you working together. Keeping Caldwell afloat. Aunt Ginny would have been proud.”

  Blake felt Paige stiffen. She pulled away and met his gaze. “You were serious?

  “Of course.”

  “So do you want a drink, Paige?” Devin asked.

  She shook her head. “I thought it was some kind of press gimmick.”

  “Whatever gave you that idea?”

  Paige shrugged.