ut he kept walking. He looked back once-this used to be his parents' home, but they l

ed with pleasure-and Clarabelle Belmont just happened to bring both. She look

game. And Clarabelle? She was

s-Clarabelle Belmont-seated at an outdoor table like a vision painted in scarlet. Her red

that low, teasing voice she use

he said smoothly, taking her hand. Her sk

ned as menus arrive

. "I seem to know you right down

ead, amused. "You do kn

want to bend her over the table right there and teach her wh

voice dipping low. "W

r businesses. I've got ideas that'll set the South on fire

ked smile curving his lips. "Y

," she whispered, cli

g knees under the table, glances that lingered too long. And by the

a private lounge that led toward the guest suites. Travis had res

for his key. The clerk hande

led down the hallway, locked in a hungry kiss, his grip possessive. By th

him, tossing it aside as she fell back on

e," she whispere

got no

of her hair and tugging her head back to expose her nec

ucking, slow and rough all at once. She dug her nails into his shoulders, breath

zy," she whispere

gripping both her wrists and pinning

r. Their bodies moved in messy rhythm, clothes forgotten on the floor, skin slick with sweat

ttering. Clarabelle trembled beneath him, breathless, f

tangled in sheets, a mess

les on his chest, lips part

ack to business," she murmu

trand of hair from her face.

from the bar cart by the window, the ice clinking softly as he glanced over the city lights. Clarabelle lay back

ense?" he asked without turning, a g

e sheet around her lazily. "Onl

hat's your real angle? This merger you keep

deny it. Sh

how you work, Travis. You don't play safe-but y

e weight of power thicker than th

he said after a moment. "We keep it clean. No messy emotions. No power

ned. "You think you can

side table and leaning down until they wer

-not in longing,

red, "Then let's make