Taming the Tycoon

chapter Eight


There was something leveling about the cold light of day and even on this relatively mild morning, Addie had already figured out how the next few hours would go down. Nathaniel would be keen to get back to London and to his busy-tycoon persona. And there were three ways she figured he’d handle the complication of her.

Option one. Be appalled at what had happened last night and seek to assure her it had been a moment of madness that Must. Not. Be. Repeated.

Option two. Keep up the lovey-dovey act until he dropped her off home and then never darken her doorstep again.

Option three. Suggest they keep something casual going.

She was expecting option one but suspected after their rather spectacular night together, option three might be in the offing.

Wasn’t that what rich men did? Keep mistresses?

Either way, she wasn’t foolish enough to believe that one night in bed with her, no matter how mind blowing, would have magically saved the garden or opened his eyes to the things he was missing in his life, and despite the brain-frying sex, she still remembered her mission statement—Show Nathaniel Montgomery how to stop and smell the roses.

Once that was done, she’d be free to continue her calm, centered, healthy life.

She just hoped that she wouldn’t get herself lost on the way. This weekend had shown her another side to the man she’d had pegged as a heartless tycoon.

And she was already dangerously attracted.

She glanced over at him sleeping soundly, feeling that crazy-stupid pull deep down in her belly. They were barely acquainted, yet she already knew too much about him. What he looked like naked, where he liked to be touched, the noises he made when he came.

Her toes curled at the thought and the urge to touch him, to wake him, to hear that sound one last time almost overwhelmed her. But she pulled back from the brink and gently eased away from him.

She had to be strong. Waking up next to him could send a message that would put her at a mental disadvantage—the I’m at your disposal message. And she couldn’t afford to be at any disadvantage with this man. She was going to need to be in top form to deal with him when he was cranky and resisting her efforts at reform back in London.

She needed to send a message right now that she was her own woman. What happened in Devon stayed in Devon. And lying around waiting for him to wake up so he could ravish her again did not send that message.

Either she had to do the ravishing or get the hell out of the bed.

She chose the latter. Despite how very, very much she wanted to dish out a damned good ravishing.

Nathaniel’s mother was in the kitchen when she came down. “Morning, Addie,” she said, automatically pouring a cup of tea and suggesting they drink it out on the terrace.

Addie complied happily and they sat in silence for a few minutes watching the early morning light play across the fields and the antics of the alpacas.

“This is a little piece of heaven you have right here,” Addie said, her hands wrapped around her mug.

Delphine sighed and nodded. “It’s a long way from the rush and hurry of London, that’s for sure.”

“You should run a farm retreat for stressed-out city people,” Addie mused. “Hill Top would be the perfect tonic.”

Delphine laughed. “Now that would give Nate a heart attack.”

Addie heard the strained note in the other woman’s voice and looked at her over the rim of the mug. “Do you worry that Nate’s heading that way?”

Delphine looked at Addie. “He has a high-powered, stressful job that he never takes time off from, and a father who died at forty-five from coronary disease. I know that Nate is fit and looks after himself, but genetics can trump all that. He never relaxes. Not even on the rare occasions we can lure him here. Well, except this time,” she added, and Addie could see the speculation in her eyes. “With you.”

Addie felt the guilt from yesterday return and the resultant prick to her conscience. Dishonesty really messed with her center. “Mmm,” she said noncommittally.

“He’s so damn desperate to carry on his father’s legacy,” Delphine continued. “He idolized Nigel. Broke my heart when he wanted to go and live with him at fifteen.”

Addie heard the grief in the older woman’s voice. “That must have been hard.”

Delphine nodded. “But you know that old saying if you love something, set it free?” She shrugged. “So I did.”

“And did he come back?”

“Not really. Oh, I know he loves us, would do anything for us, but when Nigel died in such disgrace—I’ve never seen Nate so resolute. He made his father a deathbed promise that he’d steer the company into the billions, and even though Nate was only nineteen, he sat down and mapped it all out and figured that he could do it by the age of thirty-five. And he’s been working like a mad thing ever since.”

Aha! Suddenly, Nathaniel’s tearing hurry made sense. The St. Agnes project was obviously his ticket across the line. And she and the Save St. Aggie’s Garden collective were standing in his way.

“Bless him.” Delphine shot her a worried smile. “He’s determined to fulfill his father’s dying wish, but it’s taken over his life.”

Addie thought of her precious rose garden. Nigel Montgomery’s reputation had been marked by several shady deals and she doubted he would have thought twice about bulldozing two hundred years of history to reach the magical billion. Would Nathaniel’s deathbed promise to his father deafen him to reason?

“Like father, like son?” she asked.

“Oh, no,” Delphine said. “I like to think Nate had too many years of my sensibilities for that. He has a very strong sense of right and wrong and prides himself on it. Things are very black and white for Nate in that regard, whereas Nigel was quite happy to play in the gray areas. But”—she shrugged—“Nigel was still his father—still worked his way up from being dirt poor to a successful businessman, and Nate revered him for that.”

Addie opened her mouth to ask a question and shut it again—she barely knew Nathaniel’s mother. It was really none of her business.

Delphine raised an eyebrow. “Say it, Addie.”

“I guess I’m just wondering how you ended up with him. Your husband’s reputation was a little—seedy, if you don’t mind me saying, and you seem like a pretty straight arrow.”

Delphine gave a half smile. “Why do you think we got divorced?” Then she shook her head and stared into her cup of tea for a while.

“I have a penchant for collecting strays, and he was as lost and desperate for love as anyone I’d ever met. Nige had grown up in institutions, terribly poor but with this determination to make something of himself. To make the Montgomery name synonymous with wealth. His drive and ambition was infectious, and I loved him. I loved him till the day he died. Still do, I guess. But my love couldn’t compete with his ambition or the lengths he was prepared to go to.”

Addie could hear the disappointment in Delphine’s voice. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Delphine smiled, patting Addie’s hand. “He loved me in his own way—just not more than being rich. And it wasn’t enough for me.” She took a sip of her tea. “And that’s why I worry about Nate. And why I’m pleased he’d found someone like you. Maybe you can teach him that life isn’t all about your bank balance.”

Addie felt as if Delphine had taken a switchblade and stabbed it right through her conscience. She blushed. She couldn’t keep the pretense up any longer. “Oh, I’m so sorry we’re not—”

Delphine’s lips quirked and Addie frowned. “It’s okay,” she said. “Mum and I had already figured something was up. But points to you both for going all the way.”

Addie almost choked on her mouthful of tea. If only she knew.

“I was convinced Nate would crack and confess when it came to sharing that bed,” Delphine continued, “but you both stuck it out. Did he hire you?”

This time Addie did choke on the blunt inquiry as Delphine patted her on the back a few times. “He didn’t hire me,” she said, affronted, when she could speak, although it was hard to hold the moral high ground when she’d helped perpetrate a fraud on Nathaniel’s mother and grandmother.

Addie told the whole sorry saga then, and Delphine chortled away as it unfolded. “Oh dear, I wish I’d been a fly on the wall at that hospital.” She laughed some more, clutching her chest. “Oh Addie, you are a breath of fresh air. Just what my son needs.”

“I’m afraid your son isn’t overly impressed with me.”

“Well, I think you may be wrong there, but nonetheless, we’re impressed with you. The offer to sell our alpaca woolens in your shop and that gorgeous brooch you gave Mum for her birthday saw to that. You’re welcome here any day, Adelaide Collins.”

And she grabbed Addie by the shoulder and pulled her in for a hug.

Addie felt a swelling in her chest as she sunk into the motherly embrace. In just two short days, she felt more a part of Nathaniel’s family here on an alpaca farm in Devon than she’d ever felt with her own incredibly smart but incredibly egocentric parents.

“Er-hum!”

Addie broke away guiltily from the hug at the sound of a very male, very terse throat clearing behind them. Delphine wasn’t at all concerned.

“There you are, darling,” she said, leaping to her feet, smiling at her son as if he’d invented oxygen and something in the vicinity of Addie’s heart ached. “I’ll get some breakfast started. I know you’re busy and will want to be getting back to London.”

Addie watched his clean-shaven face smile at his mother. A genuine smile full of love that caused the ache to intensify. He reached for Delphine’s hand as she passed and gave it a squeeze. Then he glanced at Addie before following his mother inside.

She shivered despite the sun already warming the day.

Looks like it was going to be option one.

Be appalled. Be very appalled.

…

Nathaniel had woken this morning unsure of how he should act. All he’d known was that he felt more relaxed than he’d been in a very long time. And it felt good. Even his thigh and ankle seemed to have improved overnight, which was a damn near miracle considering the workout he’d given them between the sheets.

He’d even caught himself smiling in the mirror as he shaved.

But then seeing his mother hugging Addie had blown the pervasive calmness out of the water. What the hell had he been thinking?

That he and Addie could be together? That they were all going to move to Devon and wear alpaca ponchos and live happily ever after?

He and Addie had made a one-weekend deal.

In fact, he’d been bloody adamant about it.

Their lifestyles were chalk and cheese. They moved in completely different circles. And they were opposite sides of an issue—one of many, no doubt—that wasn’t going to end well for her side.

What did it matter that he’d woken with all his kinks ironed out? He liked those damn kinks. He needed them—they made him feel alive. He didn’t have time to relax, and he certainly didn’t have time for someone permanent. If he did, it wouldn’t be Addie Collins. Relaxed men got nothing done. And besides, she was just too damn disagreeable.

No, it was best to stick to the game plan. Drop Addie home, thank her for the weekend, then put her from his mind.

Of course, how he was ever going to forget the smell and the taste of her, he wasn’t quite sure. Or that breathy little whimper she made at the back of her throat when he kissed her. He’d been awake for more than thirty-five minutes and he could still hear it running through his head on some bizarre continuous loop.

Still, that’s what sixteen-hour days were for, right? No room for flights of fancy when you were working like a dog. He’d just get back into it. Keep slogging away toward his goal.

The goal, he reminded himself, she and her friends were trying to stop him from achieving.

And he wasn’t going to feel guilty about it. He needed the land the garden occupied. Or rather, the access it provided to the main St. Agnes development. Without it, the budget for the project would blow out, severely affecting the bottom line.

Leaving him significantly short of his goal.

He’d bought it for a fair and reasonable price. It was his to do with what he wanted.

And he wouldn’t let great sex and physical rejuvenation screw with that plan.

“What time do you want to head out?”

Nathaniel turned as Addie entered the kitchen and was shocked that, despite his mental pep talk, an almost overwhelming urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her until she begged for mercy took hold. He kept his hands firmly planted on his hips.

“As soon as I’ve had some breakfast.”

Nathaniel was pleased his mother wasn’t in the room to witness the stiff exchange. But it was imperative that he keep on task. Following his urge to do her against the wall wouldn’t make the good-bye any easier.

“Have you eaten?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I’ve had a cup of tea.”

Nathaniel nodded as they avoided looking at each other for a moment or two. She was wearing her hair in a high ponytail this morning and he itched to take it out and watch it fall down around her shoulders—preferably while she was horizontal.

“I was going to bring you up some breakfast in a bit,” she said.

Nathaniel glanced at her, his pulse picking up as their gazes locked. No way would they have made it out of that bloody decadent bed if she’d brought breakfast up to him.

Damn it.

He took a step toward her, his gaze on her mouth, as the urge to touch her refused to be quelled any longer. “Addie—”

But his grandmother chose that moment to appear and he pulled himself back from the brink.

“Mmm, something smells good, my lovelies,” she announced.

…

The limo ride home was, as Addie suspected, exactly the same as the ride to Devon. All busy, busy, busy. Tap, tap, tapping on the laptop, shuffling of reports and the ring, ring, ring of incessant calls.

And, in between, a whole lot of silence.

Addie looked out the window, content to wait him out. She understood he was running scared. She’d seen the confusion in his eyes just as his grandmother had interrupted.

Rome wasn’t built in a day, after all.

Sooner or later, he was going to have to say something to her. Unless he planned on slowing the limo down just enough to open the door and kick her to the curb as they passed the docks on the way to his office, he was going to have to give some sort of good-bye speech.

One she suspected he was churning over and over in his head, despite the flurry of activity.

Two hours later, country fields had ceded to the suburban creep of Greater London and the car slowed as city traffic, even on a Sunday, affected vehicular efficiency. She noticed Nathaniel tapping his good foot rhythmically and smiled to herself.

This had to be killing him.

“You’re quiet,” he said suddenly.

Addie shrugged. “You’re obviously very busy. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

He drummed his fingers on his knee and she tried not to think about where those fingers had been, the magic they had weaved on her body, as he worked himself up to his next lot of dialogue. “About last night—”

And there it was. Right on cue.

“You’ve no need to worry, Nate,” she assured.

His terse, “Nathaniel,” made her smile. Somehow now he would always be Nate to her.

“Last night was a fleeting moment of madness, fueled by a little too much elderberry wine and proximity.” She forced herself to shrug. “Consider it forgotten.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Trust me, last night was not something I’m going to forget in a hurry.”

Well, no. He made a good point. But he was in flight mode, she understood that, and she was happy to give him an out. A few days to calm down before she somehow managed to bump into him again. “Me neither,” she conceded with as much understatement as possible. “But you know what I mean.”

His blue eyes narrowed in what looked a lot like suspicion to her. “So the universe is in balance again?”

She gave him a Mona Lisa smile. “Something like that,” she agreed.

But taming the tycoon was just beginning.

She glanced out the window and could see occasional glimpses of the London Eye in the stop-start traffic. The sun glinted off the glass capsules and she suddenly wished she was up in one of them enjoying the simple pleasure of being a tourist in her own city instead of in a limousine with a recalcitrant tycoon.

“Did you know,” she mused, “you can see all the way to Windsor Castle on a clear day from the top of the Eye?”

Nathaniel frowned at her. “Wouldn’t know, never been.”

Addie blinked as she turned to face him. “You’ve never been for a ride on the Eye?”

He shrugged. “I’ve not been on a red bus tour or gone to the Portobello markets or visited Buckingham Palace either. I don’t have time to play tourist, Addie.”

“Too busy making money?” she inquired sweetly.

His beautiful mouth straightened into a fierce line as he frowned at her. “I will not apologize for being well off. I’ve set goals and I’ve worked hard.”

Addie shook her head—he was in a far worse state of denial than she thought. She looked around the plush car with its uniformed driver and all the mod cons of a mobile office. His usual service, as Margaret had put it. “I’ll bet you’ve never even taken the Tube, have you?”

“Of course I have,” he said impatiently.

Addie narrowed her gaze at the ready dismissiveness. “How long’s it been? Since you last went on the Underground?”

“Probably primary school.”

She shook her head. “And you call yourself a Londoner.”

Suddenly, she knew how to help him. The man lived in one of the world’s most vibrant and fascinating cities, and he was blind to it.

He needed to reconnect.

Maybe then he wouldn’t be in so much of a hurry to knock it down.

His phone rang and he picked it up. “It’ll always be here, Addie,” he said as he answered the phone.

Conversation over.

Addie watched him locate some paperwork from the pile on the seat beside him and listened as he prattled off some facts and figures to whoever it was on the other end. She wondered if he understood that whilst London might always be here, he might not?

Didn’t he understand how fragile life was? That in the blink of an eye a heart attack could kill. That in the space of a few hours your life could be on track and then a doctor you’ve never met before gives you news that cuts you off at the knees.

You have leukemia.

If Addie had learned one thing in her twenty-seven years on this earth, it was how precious life was and how no day should be taken for granted. And for Delphine and Eunice and her rose garden—but most especially for Nathaniel—it was time to pay it forward.

She shut her eyes, taking some deep breaths, tuning him out as she conjured up the beauty of pi and her brain chanted the order of decimal points that ran on and on ad infinitum. She pictured them stretching in a line that disappeared into a distant mist and a sense of calm descended as each number recited pushed the mist back.

She could do this. She could help Nate. She could keep the universe in balance.

They were a few minutes from the docks when Nathaniel finally hung up the phone, bringing her out of her center. “Sorry.” He grimaced, but Addie didn’t really think he was. She suspected he’d been more than a little pleased to not have to talk to her.

“I’m getting Carl to drop you off home and I’m going to continue on to the office and catch up on some work that’s piled up,” he said looking down at his phone and scrolling with his thumb.

Addie, feeling strong and calm, was determined to play it cool. “Sure.”

He looked at her. “It’s what happens when I have time off, you know. There’s no one else to do it for me.”

Addie thought she detected a slight defensiveness in his tone. He seemed to be waiting for her to object. Was he used to scenes with women when he tried to shake them off? Instead, she smiled at him, noticing his slightly puzzled look. She’d obviously confused him and he didn’t look like he was enjoying being pushed off center.

She knew exactly how he felt.

“Maybe there should be?” she suggested.

He gave her another confused look as if he didn’t understand the concept of delegating. “Anyway,” he said his gaze business-like again as he stuck out his hand. “Thank you very much for this weekend. You did get me out of a tight spot and you were a hit with my family, so—thanks.”

Addie looked at his proffered hand and blinked. “Seriously,” she asked, looking at his lips and thinking about much more civilized good-byes. “You want to shake?”

She felt his clear blue gaze fan like an ocean breeze across her mouth, stirring heated memories of the night.

“I think it’s wise, given the circumstances.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Even after I massaged ointment into your thigh and then rubbed myself against you like some demented feline?”

He dropped his hand and she was satisfied to see the bob of his throat. “Addie.”

“Even after you went down on me in the wee hours of the night and I came so loudly, I woke up every sleeping alpaca on the farm, plus most of Bill’s cows?”

The smooth line of his jaw tightened. “Addie. We need to keep what happened in perspective.”

“Even though,” she continued, placing her hand on his thigh, “I’d bet my last penny you have a massive erection right now.”

His warm blue gaze met hers and held and she saw his determination to hold steady intensify even as his thigh tensed beneath her palm. “I’m a man. Sue me. Doesn’t mean I don’t want you to get out of this car so we can go back to our corners.”

Addie advanced her hand higher, stilling only when he placed his firmly on top. “Fine,” she murmured huskily, staring into his unwavering eyes. “But don’t expect me to say good-bye by shaking your hand like I met you two minutes ago, Nate.”

Addie wasn’t sure whether he reached for her or she for him but in three seconds flat she was straddling his lap, pushing her tongue into his mouth, grasping the front of his shirt and proving to herself that she’d been right about his arousal.

She needed this. Just one last kiss. One final hurrah to their decadent liaison before they both went back to their corners.

He ripped out her hair band and then his hands were pushing into her hair. She gasped for breath as he tugged gently, exposing her neck to his ravaging lips, teeth, and tongue. He placed both hands on her buttocks and pulled her in close and she tilted her hips to feel the thickness of him. Her hand followed, grasping him through his trousers. She squeezed and his groan was like a mantra in her blood. His lips found hers again and he plundered them, sucking her breath away until she was dizzy.

The car slowed—they didn’t notice. It pulled to a standstill—they didn’t notice that, either. Addie’s door opened—they were oblivious. They weren’t even aware it was discreetly shut again.

Ironically, it was his phone that pierced their bubble like clanging chimes of doom.

They pulled apart, chests heaving as it rang insistently. Nathaniel looked as sucker punched as she felt, and for a moment, neither of them moved or said a word.

But the bloody phone was oblivious.

Addie picked it up and thrust it at his chest, conscious of his hands still on her butt, her hips jammed against his.

“That,” she said, “is how you say good-bye to someone you spent all night in bed with.”

And with as much dignity as she could muster, she hauled herself off him and fumbled for the door handle.

…

Nathaniel lasted three days. Three days of telling himself to forget about Addie and their one night and concentrate on his work. Three days of early mornings and late nights, burying himself in meetings and brokering deals and overseas phone calls.

Three days of getting his ducks in a row for the St. Agnes project. Of being picky and demanding and outright cantankerous with his staff.

Three days of insane productivity because every time he stopped, Addie wearing flowers in her hair and nothing but her pulled-aside purple underwear undulated through his gray matter like a belly dancer.

And just one morning of Margaret saying to him, “Sir, you’re being an intolerable arse, stop it!” for him to find himself walking, finally sans limp, into Soul Food.

The young woman chewing gum and filing her fingernails behind the counter informed him that Addie wasn’t in yet and he found himself frowning as he strode through the light crowds to find the Ida May. It was nine-thirty in the morning. Shouldn’t she be at work? Her shop was empty and her employee more than a little casual.

Did she not care about her business?

Did she not realize she could probably own an apartment at the docks if she got serious about it?

But none of that mattered as he stepped on to the colorful boat. He barely noticed the red and pink geraniums in pots decorating the top, or that the hull was painted a rich royal blue with golden yellow trim.

He was one hundred percent focused on seeing Addie again. The doors were closed and he knocked on them. When she didn’t answer after five seconds, he knocked again.

Margaret was right. This had to stop. And he hated that his body seemed to know Addie was the answer but right now, he just had to make it stop.

And if that meant doing what it took to get her out of his system, then so be it.

He was about to knock for the third time when the doors opened and Addie stood before him in some sort of workout clothes, blinking uncertainly.

“Nate?”

He didn’t even bother to correct her. His pulse leapt at the sight of her and damn it all if his name hadn’t ever sounded so good. He’d heard her say it in his dreams the last few nights and he wanted to hear her say it for real, again and again as he rocked into her.

“What do you want?”

Nathaniel pushed his hands on his hips as he considered several responses, but the pound of his pulse and the throb in his groin overruled his basic gentlemanly decorum.

“You,” he said roughly.

He watched as her eyes widened and heard her swiftly indrawn breath. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Nathaniel couldn’t agree more. “It’s a very, very bad idea. But I want you anyway.”

Her fingers tightened on the doorknob. “You should resist.”

Nathaniel quirked an eyebrow, oblivious to everything except the thrum of his heartbeat in his ears. She was right—he should. “Resistance is useless.”

“And what does that mean, exactly?” she asked, her throat bobbing.

“It means in a few seconds I’m going to kiss you—long and hard—and then I’m going to throw you on a bed or, hell, the floor if the bed’s too damned far, and I’m going to strip off your clothes and make you come loud enough to give every tourist here today something to take home with them. And if you don’t want that, Addie, you’d better speak up now because I’m barely hanging on by a thread here.”

He was breathing hard when he finished, his chest thudding as the images he’d described zinged through his blood stream, adding to the heat that already had him in its grip.

Her gray eyes held his and he could see she was waging a mental battle. But the mad flutter in the hollow at the base of her throat, the unevenness of her breath, and the flare of her nostrils told another story.

And she didn’t speak. She didn’t object. She didn’t move.

She just stood right there, waiting.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, snagging her wrist and pulling her hard against him.

He slammed his mouth onto hers, sucking her breath in with his as he opened his lips wide, demanding entrance to her mouth and groaning when she granted it. She tasted like manna from heaven and smelled fresh and sweet and he grabbed her by the upper arms as he walked her backward into the privacy of the boat.

The doors closed behind them and it was cooler and darker inside. Still walking her backward, he moved his hands to her butt cheeks, pulling them in close and she moved restlessly against him as the kiss went from hot to blistering.

He reached for her shirt, hauling it up the same time he felt her fingers at his belt. His hands quickly claimed her breasts, delightfully naked, just as his foot snagged something and he almost tripped. He cursed under his breath and broke away.

“What the hell is that?” he gasped, looking at a pile of large jagged-looking crystals and some candles scattered on the floor.

Addie blinked at him for a few seconds, her mouth moist and swollen before looking at the floor. “It’s my meditation circle,” she panted.

Nathaniel frowned. “You were meditating?”

She shrugged. “Yes.”

Of course she was. He licked his lips as his sluggish brain tried to take it all in. God, what was he doing here?

“Does it matter?” she asked.

Good question. She was standing before him her chest heaving, her breasts bare, her mouth soft and wet and parted. “Nope.” He pulled the tails of his shirt out of his trousers and pulled down his fly. “Take your pants off,” he said.

The second she was naked, he knew they’d never make it to some far-off bedroom. There was a wall just behind them and he pushed her against it, lifting her up, her ankles locking around his waist, ravaging her breasts and before he knew it he was pounding into her, her hands in his hair and her cries urging him on—deeper, harder, faster.

More.

Yes, yes, yes.

Now, now, now.

And finally a deep resounding bellow that was the death knell to his absurd fancy that if he could have just one more time with her, she’d be out of his system for good. Because he knew as he held her close for their drift down from the heights that he was nowhere near finished with Addie Collins.

“I want more of this,” he said, his forehead pressed against her collarbone, feeling the pound of her heart beneath slowly settling.

“I want to take you touring.”

Nathaniel raised his head. “No.”

Addie’s gaze didn’t waver from his. “Then no more of this.”

Nathaniel, still hard inside her, pushed back in a little more and was gratified to see her eyes close and her chest rock. “I can’t take time out to play tourist.”

“But you can take time out to come to my boat and be all ‘Me Tarzan’?”

“Damn it, Addie,” he grumbled, pushing into her again. “I don’t have time.”

She sucked in a breath and grabbed his shoulders. “Just an hour a day is all I need.” She undulated her shoulders, thrusting her breasts close to his face. “Then you can have as much of this as you like.”

Nathaniel practically drooled at the pale tips ruching before his eyes. “You’re blackmailing me in the middle of sex?”

“Yep,” she panted.

“You drive a hard bargain,” he murmured, lowering his head to capture an engorged nipple as his erection surged inside her.

Addie shut her eyes. “I think you’re driving the hard bargain.”

It was another thirty minutes before Nathaniel got away.