An Exquisite Challenge Read online

  “Have you thought more about my suggestion?”

  His smoothly delivered question made her eyes fly open. “I’ve been too busy to think about it.”

  His gaze darkened to a smoky, sultry green. “Liar.”

  She met his stare head-on. “You have a big ego.”

  He pressed his fingers into her arch and she yelped. “Relax,” he murmured. “Out of curiosity, if you were to agree to one night, how would you like it, Lex? Hot and heavy or long and drawn out?”

  Her insides seized. “I don’t think so, Gabe.”

  “We’re just talking,” he drawled, eyes glittering. “Hypothetically, of course.”

  She should have shut him down, but she couldn’t resist a challenge. And then there was that curiosity about him that was burning her up.

  She gave him a thoughtful look. “I like both. But I think I’d start with long and drawn out.”

  He nodded. “Good choice. It’s been a while, after all, hasn’t it?”

  “Excuse me?” She tensed and tried to pull her foot away, but he held it firm.

  “When’s the last time you were on a date?”

  She was not admitting it had been a while.

  He smiled. “Exactly as I thought. So theoretically, if I were to be the one to break your slump, I would move my hands up over your calf like this and work those muscles, too, first this leg, then the other. Make sure you were loose, relaxed.”

  She swallowed hard as his fingers kneaded the tight muscles of her right calf. Dear Lord, that felt good.

  “Then,” he continued, “when I was sure you were in the zone, I’d move over there, slowly, making sure you knew my full intentions. You’d give me that fight-or-flight look of yours. I’d wait until you bit your lip in that way you do when you want to be kissed, because you would want to be kissed. That would be my cue to give you one, and I would, but only a teasing, fleeting pressure. Just enough to generate heat. When you’d gotten into it, I might want to taste that bottom lip myself.”

  She closed her eyes as he dug more firmly into her calf. “You with me?” he murmured.

  “Yes.” Her voice was low, thready, nothing like her.

  “Bene. Next, I’d put my mouth to that sensitive spot at the base of your neck, where your pulse is, because I know that works for you. Another one of those erogenous zones...and, in this hypothetical scenario, it’d be racing and you’d have that trickle of sweat dripping down into the cleft between your breasts, just like you do now. Which would prove irresistible to me, since I’m a big fan of that part of the female anatomy. I’d relieve you of your bikini top shortly after that.”

  “Gabe—” She licked dry lips. “I think that’s enough.”

  “Don’t you want to know how it ends?”

  “No,” she croaked.

  “Just a little more.” His eyes gleamed with humor and something, darker, primal. “So then I’d be aching to get my hands on you and I would put my hands on you. I’d take those beautiful breasts of yours into my palms like I did in my office, but this time I’d use my mouth on you and you’d arch into me and moan.” He lifted his broad shoulders. “At this point you’d be begging for me to touch you in other places and we’d pretty much have to make a call as to whether we go all hot and steamy and you let me—”

  “Enough,” she broke in shakily. “I get the picture.”

  “You sure? I was just getting to the good part.”

  She waved her hand at him. “Who are you, anyway? Where did conservative Gabe go?”

  He shook his head. “Never conservative in the bedroom, Lex.”

  God. She pulled in an unsteady breath. “When, exactly, were you planning on stopping, just out of curiosity?”

  His gaze burned into hers. “I wasn’t.”

  Heat slammed into her, hard and fast. She had the shocking feeling if she’d let him continue he could have made her do things...experience things completely out of her control. Just by talking to her...

  She sank her fingers into the concrete ledge, poised to run for her life. Gabe’s hand came down on hers. Her heart careened into the wall of her chest as she stared at him.

  “Stay. I think I’ve had enough.”

  What? He levered himself out of the tub and flashed her one of those blinding smiles. “I’m going to go make sure no one’s using that name.”

  She stared after him, pulse pounding, stomach in knots. Had he really just done that? Had she really just let him do that? She winced as another cramp hit her left arch and reached down to massage it.

  Gabe was right about one thing. This had to end, one way or another. The scary thing was—her wild-child alter ego seemed to be making an extended appearance.

  * * *

  A loud thump woke Gabe.

  He jackknifed into a sitting position and glanced at the clock. 2:00 a.m. What in Cristo’s name had that been?

  A string of curses filled the air. Alex?

  Heart in his mouth, he ran to the door, whipped it open and headed for the stairs, terrified she’d fallen down them. A glance down the winding staircase found her sitting at the bottom, holding her right arm cradled in her left. Merda.

  “Stai bene?”

  He ran down and knelt in front of her. Her face was white, her slim body trembling. His heart thumped hard in his chest. “Stai bene?” he asked again. She stared vacantly back at him. He was speaking in Italian. “Alex,” he murmured, taking her shaking hands in his. “Did you hurt yourself?”

  She recoiled like an injured animal, a panicked light filling her eyes. “Stay away from me.”

  What in Cristo’s name? He took her by the shoulders. “Lex, are you okay?”

  She ripped herself away and sprang to her feet, the wild-eyed look of a hunted animal in her eyes. “Get your goddamned hands off me.”

  He froze, heart pounding. “Lex,” he said slowly. “What’s wrong? Did you fall?”

  “Stay away from me!” She backed into the corner and wrapped her arms around herself. “You have no right to touch me.”

  His heart rose in his throat. “I think you need t—”

  “Y-you c-call my f-father right now.” She waved her hand frantically at him. “You c-can’t keep me here.”

  A tingling feeling went through him. Something was very wrong here. “I don’t think I can do that, Lex,” he said calmly. “It’s the middle of the night.”

  She came at him then, nails like talons. “You bastard,” she screamed, digging them into his arm. “I didn’t know anything about it. You can’t keep me here. I want to go home!”

  He cursed as her nails dug into his forearm. Grabbed her arms and twisted them behind her back. She wasn’t talking to him, he realized. She was having a nightmare. She was sleepwalking.

  “Let me go,” she raged, twisting away from him. “Dammit, you let me go right now.”

  He kept her arms pinned behind her back. What were you supposed to do with a sleepwalker? Wake them up? Or was that dangerous? Unsure and recoiling from the terror in her eyes, he released her wrists and scooped her up, holding her tight so her blows landed ineffectually on his back. Her curses echoing in his ears, he carried her to the living room and dumped her on the sofa. She came at him again with her nails and he grabbed the lethal little instruments and pinned her hands by her sides. Panic raged in her face. He swallowed hard. Who was she fighting and how could he get her to stop?

  “Lex—”

  “I hate you,” she yelled. “You son of a bitch. You were just waiting for this chance. Waiting to get your hands on me.” She twisted her wrists and tried to pull out of his grip. “Let. Me. Go. Damn you.” When he refused, she kept repeating the words over and over again like a mantra, until her voice grew hoarse and her head fell to his shoulder. “Please,” she begged. “Call my daddy. Let me go home.”

  The tears that started to fall tore his heart in half. Hot torrents of them ran down her cheeks and soaked his shirt. He wanted to wake her up so he could make them stop, but he was afraid shoc
king her out of it now would do more damage than good. So he pulled her into his arms and rocked her and told her she was home. That she was safe. Slowly, she relaxed against him, her hands releasing their death grip on his shirt. Her sobs turned to sniffles, then to quick intakes of breath.

  His heart slowed. Thank Dio. “Stai bene,” he murmured into her hair. “You’re okay.”

  When she was finally quiet and unmoving in his arms, he carried her upstairs and tucked her into her bed. She grabbed her pillow and hugged it like a lifeline. Something in Gabe tore wide open. What the hell had happened to her? Who had been touching her? Someone in authority? Had that person let her go?

  He lowered himself in the chair beside the bed, raking trembling hands through his hair. He shut the thoughts out of his head, because he couldn’t go there when she couldn’t give him an answer.

  He sat back in the chair, his gaze on her pinched, drawn face. He couldn’t leave her—what if the nightmare started again? What if she’d hit her head when she fell? And regardless, he could no more sleep now than he could forget the terrified look on her face.

  In the end, he fell asleep. Woke in the chair at four a.m. to find Alex sleeping like a baby. He crawled into his own bed to catch a couple of hours of sleep before the big day. And told himself whatever he’d seen on Alex’s face couldn’t be that bad.

  * * *

  Alex woke to the buzz of her alarm with the heavy feeling she’d taken a journey while she’d slept. Pushing herself into a sitting position, she slapped her fingers against the clock to turn it off and blinked to clear the fuzziness in her head. Her shoulder throbbed. Weird. She hadn’t been doing any heavy lifting yesterday. She rotated it around and winced as a stab of pain shot through her arm. What in the world?

  With no time to worry about aches and pains, she slid out of bed and headed for the shower. Today was game day. The day she threw an incredible party everyone would remember. Padding to the window, she glanced out. Sun. Excellent. Just like they’d predicted.

  She stepped into the shower, the steaming-hot water proving an effective antidote for her sore shoulder. Adrenaline hummed through her veins. Today had become personal. Not just a job. Gabe’s wine was brilliant. She wanted to win this for him.

  A T-shirt and jeans was the uniform of the day. She pulled her hair into a ponytail, winced as her arm throbbed and went downstairs in search of coffee. Gabe was sitting at the breakfast bar with an espresso and a newspaper. She flicked him a wary glance, their encounter in the hot tub burned vividly into her mind.

  He looked up. “Buongiorno.”

  “Morning. Did you stay up playing with the name?” she asked blithely, reaching for the coffeepot.

  He put his mug down and focused on her. Dark shadows smudged his eyes. His olive skin stretched tightly across his face. “A bit. Grazie. I think it’s going to be perfetto.”

  “Good.” Unsure of what to do next with that penetrating stare on her, she reached up and took a thermos mug out of the cupboard.

  “Lex.” His low address skated across her skin, made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. “Do you remember what happened last night?”

  She turned to face him, heat invading every cell of her body. “We— I went to bed.”

  “I’m talking about what happened afterward.”

  Afterward?

  He grimaced. “You don’t remember, do you?”

  She stiffened. “Remember what?”

  “You were sleepwalking, Lex.”

  Oh. The heavy feeling in her head. The throbbing in her shoulder. She frowned. “Did I fall?”

  “I think so. I found you at the bottom of the stairs holding your arm.”

  Her stomach tightened into a mortified knot. “Did I wake up?”

  His face was grim. “No.”

  She put the mug down. “Was it the good one or the bad one?”

  “The bad one.”

  She felt the color drain from her face. She turned, picked up the coffeepot and sloshed some into her mug, cursing as half of it ended up on the counter. “I’m sorry you had to witness that.”

  His stool scraped the floor. Footsteps sounded behind her. She flinched as he took the pot from her hand and jammed it back into the machine. “Tell me what happened.”

  She shook her head.

  He planted his hands on her shoulders and turned her around. The worry and confusion in his eyes made her shrivel inside. “You were hysterical. Frantic.”

  She twisted out of his hands. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  His jaw hardened. “Lex—”

  “No.” She bit her lip and laced her hands together. “I can’t talk about this. Not now. Not today. I need to get out there and prep for the arrivals.”

  His hands clenched by his sides. “Who was it?”

  She turned and reached for the lid to her mug.

  “I need to know he didn’t hurt you.”

  The vibrating emotion in his voice made her stop. She swung around and stared at him. The haggard lines in his face, the dark shadows under his eyes were because of her. She bit hard into her lip, the urge to fold in on herself, to deny it had all happened immense. But she lifted her chin instead. “He didn’t hurt me,” she said huskily. “I scared him off.”

  He stared at her. She saw him fighting the urge to keep asking questions, which was good, because she had to get out of here. “The caterers will be arriving any minute. I need to get out there.”

  He nodded. Rubbed his palm over his forehead. “Bene, but if you—”

  “Oh, my Lord.” She stared at the jagged red scratches on his forearm. “Please tell me I didn’t do that to you.”

  “Unless there was another female in my bed last night I was unaware of,” he said grimly, “yes.”

  She failed to see the humor in that. The gouges looked deep and angry, scrawling across hard muscle. “Did you clean them?”

  He inclined his head. “It’s fine.”

  “At least they’ll be covered tonight,” she muttered. “I am so sorry.”

  His mouth curved in a wry smile. “The men would just think I had a night of wild sex.”

  Instead she’d been a wild animal. She picked up her coffee. And fled.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  NORMALLY WHEN ALEX was in event-day mode, she was tunnel visioned, unflappable and 100 percent on her game. Today she felt off kilter, unusually indecisive and decidedly off her game. It must be the residual effects of the sleepwalking. And the fact that Gabe had witnessed it. It made her feel that much more self-conscious and vulnerable.

  If she brought a bit too much intensity to her interactions with the chef who was acting like a prima donna in Elena’s kitchen or the fireworks provider who deemed it acceptable to store potent explosives alongside propane tanks, so be it. The stakes didn’t get any higher than they were tonight. They had to wow every VIP, journalist and socialite attending this party. Nail the big reveal of The Devil’s Peak at ten. Convince them De Campo had arrived in Napa.

  Equally important was that everyone talked about it. At the water cooler, on social media, face-to-face. These were influencers attending. She needed them to influence.

  She finished the setup, made sure everything was on schedule, then jetted into town to get her hair done. A big dress required big hair. And since her L.A. designer friend, Stella, had made her a big dress for tonight, hot rollers were a necessity.

  At six o’clock, half an hour before the guests were to arrive, every glass, every torch, every staff person was in place. She surveyed the grounds with a satisfied nod and nipped inside to get dressed.

  The champagne silk creation Stella had made her fluttered to her ankles as she slid it on. Not in a million years would she have ever been able to afford this dress, but Stella had given it to her in exchange for Alex’s promise to talk it up tonight.

  It was Hollywood glam at its finest. Excessively formfitting, it clung lovingly to every inch of her body. Its spaghetti straps and low neckline emphas
ized her cleavage, while the back dipped almost to her waist. And the beading. It was magical, sparkling from every centimeter of the dress like hundreds of tiny diamonds.

  She was not the princess, believer-of-fairy-tales type. But this dress put her first real smile of the day on her lips. She was ready now. The game was on.

  She glanced at the clock. Six-fifteen. Time for her to walk Gabe through the grounds and make sure everything was perfect. She slipped on matching champagne-colored stilettos and her only pair of real diamonds—her very real two-carat drop earrings. They sparkled in the light like white fire. Any guilt she’d felt for keeping the earrings Jordan had given her had long disappeared with the knowledge they reminded her of his betrayal. Reminded her never to make that mistake with a man again.

  She never would.

  Her legs shook slightly as she took her first step down the stairs. The fact that she was headed toward Gabe might have something to do with it. Would he think she looked beautiful? Or would he think she was a messed-up piece of work after last night?

  Not that he would be wrong on that.

  She paused by his office door. He sat at his desk reviewing some papers, looking devastatingly severe in an exquisitely tailored tux that played up his dark good looks. She stood there silently, drinking him in. And realized there wasn’t one centimeter of him she didn’t want. From his complexity carved by the need to prove himself in a family of titans to the undeniably hot body and sex appeal. She wanted it all. And in that moment, she knew where her nervousness had been coming from all day.

  She’d made her decision.

  Gabe looked up, as if sensing her. His expression was distracted, his broad shoulders tense under the beautifully fitting jacket. He focused, zoned in on her, subjected her to an inspection that brought every nerve ending raging to life.

  He stood up. Walked around the desk. “Determined to break some hearts tonight?”

  “I don’t let men close enough to break their hearts.”

  He joined her at the door, besting her by a good three inches even in her heels. “I think I’m going to say my suggestion expires tonight.”

  She lifted a brow. “You’re putting a time limit on it?”