Once Upon a Kiss Read online

  Before I fall so hard for my partner in crime that I forget what I came for.

  And she couldn’t have both—the man and his financial support. Even if she did win Carter over and gain additional funding, she would still be losing the man himself. The way he looked at her, the way he kissed her, and the way he made her feel. Before she could ponder about the implications further, Carter interrupted her thoughts.

  “Nervous?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  “Your feet are practically dancing,” he pointed out.

  “I’ll have to add driving through Times Square barefoot to my list of things I’ve never done before,” she murmured as the car crawled forward and then stopped at a red light.

  “I think we can find other ways to add to your list.” He grinned and one of his perfect curls fell over his forehead. In the rush from one adventure to the next, she hadn’t forgotten that this man belonged on the billboards mounted in New York’s top tourist destination, not riding below them with her.

  But then his expression turned serious. “Ivy, does anyone know where you are?”

  “My assistant.” Her feet froze and looked at him. “Why? Is this the point in our adventure where you tell me you’re a serial killer who uses the pretense of makeovers and charity galas to find his victims?”

  She waited for a laugh. Instead, he withdrew his cell from his pants pocket and held it out to her. “Try someone who doesn’t work for me. Like your sister.”

  How does he know about Kate?

  Because she’d mentioned her big sister at the castle. Briefly. In passing. And yet…

  “You really were paying attention, weren’t you?” She accepted the phone.

  “Always.” He nodded to the cell. “Call her and tell her where you are. Explain that this is my number.”

  “She won’t believe me. She knew I was coming to see you, but she’ll think I’m joking when I tell her I’m still with you.” But she punched in the numbers.

  “I don’t care. Just explain that you’ll check in later tonight and again in the morning if necessary, so she doesn’t worry.”

  Her pulse quickened at the words if necessary. Despite the fact that she might return to her lab a failure, she still wanted a reason to call her sister again in the morning.

  “I should have thought to call,” she muttered as she keyed in her sister’s number.

  “You’re out of practice,” he teased. And now, his grin returned. “I want you to feel comfortable in my apartment. Make the call, Ivy.”

  She dialed the familiar number and listened to the rings.

  “Hello?” her sister’s sleepy voice said.

  “Kate, I’m sorry to wake you—”

  “It’s midnight! Are you all right?” Kate demanded, sounding instantly more alert. “What’s happened? Did you wreck your car leaving the city? I should have told you to take the train down.”

  “Kate, I’m fine.” Ivy drew a deep breath. “I’m with Carter Burke. I’ll call you in the morning. I just needed someone to know. And this is his cell.”

  “Your boss? In the middle of the night?” Kate let out a burst of laughter. “It’s about time you took a break from that lab, Princess Workaholic.”

  “Well, this isn’t—”

  “I’m proud of you, Ivy,” she said. “You need to do something for you once in a while. Even if that means sleeping with your boss. I’ll try to swallow my jealousy while I go back to bed and wait for my four-year-old alarm clock to wake me at dawn. Go and have fun—hopefully naked fun—with Carter Burke.”

  She ended the call and handed the phone back to Carter. A peek out the window and she knew they’d left Times Square—and the traffic—behind. The next stop was Carter’s favorite place in New York City.

  And hopefully some naked fun.

  She smiled as the car sped through a yellow light. The adventure wasn’t over yet, even if her reasons for being out with Carter Burke were shifting with each passing intersection.

  Chapter 16

  “Why is this your favorite place in all of New York City?” Ivy followed him into the elevator, her gown trailing over the lobby’s marble floors.

  Carter inserted his key into the panel and hit the button for the top floor of the skyscraper nestled in the heart of the Financial District. “Wait until you see the view from the roof deck.”

  Also, my bed is here.

  He’d nearly made love to her next to a T. rex. Then he’d been tempted to strip off her dress under the stars in Central Park. But after her two-year break from dating—and, presumably, sex—Ivy Grant deserved privacy—and a bed.

  The elevator door opened into his apartment. He took her hand and drew her into the space. Keeping his gaze fixed on her, he studied her reaction. He’d rejected his mother’s suggestion that he hire a decorator. He had two requirements for his furniture—simple and comfortable.

  “So this is the lion’s den.” She walked into his living room. “I’m impressed.”

  “By a pair of overstuffed recliners and a leather couch?” He followed her into his space, scanning her expression for clues.

  “Plus a practical, yet understated rug and, wait, is that a tree trunk topped in glass that you’re using as a coffee table?”

  “A guy I served with made that. It’s teak root and weighs a ton,” he said.

  “It’s a functional work of art in your living room.” She waved to the space. “Everything in here is practical, but not fussy.”

  He moved behind her and placed his hands on her waist. “You thought I would be fussy? About furniture?”

  She leaned her head back against his chest. “You did order a frothy pineapple vodka cocktail.”

  “I always try the drinks made in-house,” he said. “And my mom’s the fussy one. She decorated her place from top to bottom, and then redecorated it. Still, the best part about her apartment is the view of Central Park.”

  “You bought your mom a fancy uptown apartment,” she said softly. “And selected a modest downtown place for yourself.”

  “Modest? Do I detect a note of sarcasm, Ms. Grant?”

  “Perhaps,” she said with a grin.

  His grip tightened around her waist as he guided her toward the wall of sliding glass on the far side of his living room. “Might change your mind once you step outside. I can see straight into Brooklyn from here.”

  He released her and pulled open the door. “Go ahead.”

  She stepped onto the balcony. Bypassing the lounge chairs, table, and grill, she walked to the ledge and placed her hands on the metal railing. “From one angle you have Manhattan skyscrapers, and from another Brooklyn. A view of where you came from and where you ended up.”

  He moved beside her, covering her left hand with his right. “You’re one of the few people I’ve brought up here who noticed.”

  “Most women are probably overwhelmed by your dashing good looks,” she teased.

  “And you’re not?”

  “I was. When I first walked into your office. But I’ve been in the trenches with you, escaping museum security and setting off alarms.” She remained focused on the view. “Why do you look back?”

  “I made a promise to Mom.”

  “To never forget Brooklyn?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “When I was a kid, my mom took me all over the city. One day—I forget where we were headed, but it’s not important—we were walking by the tall, fancy buildings by Central Park and I promised her she would live there. I told her that I’d buy her the best apartment in the whole city.”

  “And you kept that promise,” she said. “But you didn’t want a park view for yourself?”

  “I don’t want the city’s most expensive real estate.”

  “A lower Manhattan penthouse is pretty darn close to the top,” she pointed out.

  Talking a hold of her hand, he drew her away from the railing. “When you reach that pinnacle, owning the best of everything, there’s no place else to go. Succes
s is measured by staying there, not the challenge of the climb.”

  “We’re not talking about apartments anymore,” she murmured.

  “No, we’re not.” He pulled her in his arms. His palms pressed against her lower back. “I don’t let people down. Not my mother or my shareholders. In order to keep climbing, I need to do what is best for my business.”

  “Even if it means closing my lab,” she said softly.

  “Yes.”

  He released his hold on her and stepped back. There were no alarms here. Security wasn’t on their trail, and they were no longer on a public terrace in Central Park. He didn’t need to let her go. And he sure as hell didn’t want to stop touching her. But he had to know if she felt the same pull.

  “Ivy, I want you to stay. But not because you want to win funding.”

  Her fingers followed his pleated tux shirt up to the top button. “You’re tired of hearing my arguments?”

  He shook his head. “No. But you can make your case in my office on Monday. I’ll clear my calendar. I’ll make time to meet with you. If you stay, do it because you want to—because you want me.”

  “I shouldn’t like you, Carter Burke.”

  He felt her fingers against his chest, working to free the top button.

  “You’re my personal devil,” she continued.

  “That bad?” He held her close as she went to work on the second button.

  “You’re threatening my work. And yet…”

  She released a third button. Then she slipped her hands inside his shirt. Her palms pressed against his bare skin.

  “And yet, you’re a good man,” she said.

  “That’s surprising to you?” he murmured.

  “Very.” She tilted her head back and met his gaze. “I never expected to end up here tonight. But I’m not leaving.”

  Thank God.

  He ran his hand up her back and over her neck. His fingers tangled with her loose hair. He gave a soft tug on her long locks, drawing her head back as his lips pressed against hers.

  Her hands glided over his body, freeing the rest of the buttons, releasing his cummerbund and unbuttoning his pants. The pieces of his tux fell to the ground as he kissed her.

  She broke the kiss and stepped back, leaving him panting and naked except for his boxers.

  “Just to be clear,” she said as her hands moved to her right side. He could have sworn he heard her zipper. But that could have been his imagination, fueled by the lust pumping through him. And he didn’t dare look closer. He kept his gaze focused on her face. Then her gown loosened, and he couldn’t resist watching as she slipped her arms free from the flowing fabric. “I want you, Carter Burke.”

  He followed the dress’s descent, lingering for a second, maybe two, on her bare, full breasts. The gown’s cutout had tempted him. But now he ached to touch her.

  “The only thing I’m clear about right now is that I plan to spend the night worshipping your body,” he growled as she tugged the tulle creation down over her hips. “And I plan to start with your breasts.”

  Her dress slipped over her legs and pooled at her feet, leaving her in a pair of lacy, beige panties. He stepped onto the dress, close enough to run his hands over her, and knelt down on the pile of fabric.

  “Or maybe I’ll start right here.” He wrapped his hands around her waist and pressed his lips to her taut stomach. His thumbs slipped beneath the thin lace at her waist. Slowly, he drew her underwear down her legs and onto the ground.

  He sat back on his heels, allowing his gaze to travel up her naked body. He met her questioning gaze and grinned.

  “You can’t give the gown credit now, beautiful.”

  Chapter 17

  My boss is kneeling at my feet and I’m naked.

  Ivy stared at the tan, muscular display of skin. Any minute now, she would faint. Or maybe she’d wake up and realize this was all a dream.

  The gown.

  The wild night.

  This man…

  She’d admired gorgeous men like him, with his blue eyes and short dark curls. But always from a distance. Not stripped to his underwear and kneeling before her.

  Plus, he called me beautiful. Naked me!

  “Carter—”

  “You’re going to protest because I called you beautiful, aren’t you?” He shook his head. “Don’t answer that. Let me prove it to you.”

  He leaned forward and placed his hands on her thighs. Her skin tingled beneath his touch. Her hormones begged and pled with her common sense.

  Keep your mouth shut and let him prove it!

  “How?” she murmured, unable to give the need pulsing through her free rein.

  He responded with kisses. His lips pressed against her thigh, blazing a path up and up…

  “Carter?” she whispered.

  He drew his head away from her legs and she missed the feel of his mouth. But his hands continued to roam, traveling over her thighs and then slipping between them. He didn’t waste time teasing her. He went straight to his destination and his fingers traced small circles over the perfect spot.

  Yes, yes, yes!

  But instead of screaming, she let out a low moan.

  “How am I going to prove it to you?” Carter said in a conversational tone as his hand sent spirals of pleasure rippling through her. “That’s a good question. First, I’m going to make damn sure you feel beautiful, Ivy.”

  His words wound around her like a spell. His voice combined with his incessant touch, offering just the right amount of pressure, and she couldn’t hold back. She couldn’t formulate a challenge, a question, or any thought other than—

  “Yes,” she screamed into night. “Oh, Carter, please.”

  She wasn’t sure what she was begging for. The orgasm to never end? The pleasure might kill her. It was so intense. She felt as if she were chasing the feeling from one peak to another rising higher and higher until…it drifted away.

  And now she was floating down to earth. But gently, as if aided by a parachute.

  Or Carter.

  Through her bliss, she heard the rustle of her gown as he stood. He gathered her into his arms and cradled her head against his chest.

  “How do you feel?” Carter asked.

  Bold. Daring. On top of the world…

  “You proved your point.” She lifted her head. “Now lose your boxers and I promise to make you feel beautiful, too.”

  He stripped off his underwear and reached for her, drawing her flush against him. She could feel his hard length, ready and waiting for her.

  “Hey, I wanted to take a look at you before we dived right in,” she protested.

  “You’re a scientist,” he teased. “Surely you can determine just how much you have to work with using your other senses?”

  “Like touch?” she challenged, running her hand up his powerful thigh. How did a man who spent his days behind a desk staring at spreadsheets maintain this body? She lived for her work, but she didn’t have a six-pack to show for it.

  But he did. She’d seen enough to know this was a man who could bring a woman to her knees with one glance at his abs.

  Her hand stopped before reaching the destination of her supposed research. “Maybe I should start with taste.”

  She pressed her mouth against his chest. Her lips parted and her tongue touched his tanned skin. Slowly, placing both hands on his hips for balance, she licked a trail down his body as she dropped to her knees. Wrapping one hand around his hard length, she guided him to her parted lips.

  “Ivy,” he growled.

  She ran her mouth over his erection, surveying the entire length before drawing away. Glancing up at him, she murmured, “Just completing my research.”

  She reclaimed him between her lips and proceeded to explore all eight long, hard inches of him. He began thrusting into her mouth as if begging for more, more, more. She lost herself in the feel, the taste of him. And she reveled—just a little—in having him at her mercy.

  “Enough.”
He stepped back and pulled himself free from her lips.

  Surprised by his sudden movements, she didn’t protest when he lifted her up off the terrace floor and into his arms. She allowed his hands to guide her legs around his waist. Her arms draped over his shoulders and her hands clasped at the nape of his neck.

  “Carter?” she gasped as he gripped her hips and lifted them up. She could feel him poised to enter her.

  “Tell me you want this,” he demanded as he allowed her to drop just a touch. Then he held her still again. Another centimeter lower and he would be inside her. Another inch and she would be that much closer to an orgasm.

  “I want you, Carter,” she declared. “Right now, please.”

  He let out a raspy chuckle and lowered her all the way down. Her body tightened around him. The effect rippled out from her core and her legs pressed into his sides.

  “Relax,” he rasped.

  Because you’re so calm and collected right now?

  “I’ve got you,” he added as he lifted her up and then lowered her again.

  This time, she followed his instructions. She let him take control as sensation swirled and pleasure rose up and up.

  “Oh, hell,” he groaned as he lowered her down again. She felt him shudder against her. He held her tight, refusing to lift her up as he came. Then, he lowered his head to her shoulder.

  “There’s some damn proof you’re gorgeous and sexy,” he murmured.

  “Carter, it’s all right. We’re even now.”

  He lifted his head and looked down at her. “Don’t think for a second that I planned that.” Still holding her, he pivoted and headed for the sliding glass door. “I’m going to worship every inch of you. This time in my bed. Okay?”

  She nodded as he wrapped one powerful arm around her and pulled open the door.

  But I’m already there. I feel so beautiful, worshipped, and happy…I don’t want the sun to come up. Not for a long, long time.

  Chapter 18

  “Having a good dream?”

  Ivy woke with a start. She took in the beam of sunlight illuminating the dark curls. She’d fallen asleep curled up against Carter Burke.