Читать книгу The Royal House of Karedes: One Family - Natalie Anderson, Carol Marinelli - Страница 12

JAMES wouldn’t regret it. He’d spend the rest of his days congratulating himself. In her mind Liss saw it all—a fabulous success that would be talked about for years to come. A sumptuous, elegant event that no other could match and where the invitations were prized higher than the rare pink diamonds of Calista.

And it was on Aristo. Bittersweet anticipation burned through her. Finally she’d be able to see Cassie. She’d gone home for her father’s funeral but Alex had had her packed and out of there again before she could blink, let alone trace her old friend. And now that Seb had found her and their son, there was so much to celebrate. Liss still couldn’t believe she had a nephew—or that her friend had been through so much. She ached that she hadn’t been able to see them sooner.

The speed of her ejection from Aristo still stunned her but hopefully, if she pulled something magical off with this party, she might show them all what she was capable of, maybe then she’d be more welcome there.

She pushed the chaos of emotion aside. Decided to start with the fun stuff. The invitations themselves had to be something special. They’d give some clue to the style of the event and set up the expectations of the guests. She needed the most glam guests too. It took no time at all to compile a list of Aristan dignitaries and socialites who she knew would seal the exclusive nature of the event. The elite circle that in itself drew crowds.

She flicked over the file James had mentioned and decided to change most of the things already in place. Just under two weeks wasn’t long to arrange things the way she wanted, but she knew she could pull it off. She surfed on the Internet for ideas, and chose to ignore the fact that the new temp brought in to cover the secretarial duties she’d now abandoned had mastered the phone system and the internal accounts system in less than an hour.

If James wanted the best, she would give him the best. The finest foods, the finest wines, the finest décor—utter opulence. In a city of excess and extreme wealth it needed to be some party to impress the jaded palates of the Aristan elite.

James was surprisingly hands-off in his management of her. All morning he left her to her own devices. She was pleased; she wanted to keep much of what she was planning under wraps so when all was revealed on the night it would have maximum impact. Because the person she wanted to impress most of all was him. She wanted him to lose that touch of sarcasm once and for all. Wanted him to be the warm, welcoming boss he’d been that first day when he’d thought she was his usual secretary.

Who was she trying to kid? What she really wanted was him—full stop. And that, she knew, wasn’t wise.

She watched as he walked out for lunch. The minute he’d gone she escaped the office too. There were some boutiques nearby she often browsed through—including a fabulous shoe store that had several styles she was eyeing up. Today was a good day—worthy of celebration, and that pair in particular called to her from its perch in the left-hand corner of the window. Temptation was too strong. She had to try them on. And then, of course, once she’d tried them on, she had to own them. Handing over her credit card, crossing fingers that she hadn’t already maxed out the limit, she bought the soft slipons with her current favourite style of slim but very high heel. And, like all eager and true shoe lovers, there was no way she was leaving the store without them on her feet.

She laughed at her folly. But there was a lot to be said for retail therapy—it could be a temporary filler for her hunger for something else entirely.

As a result of the impulsive spree, she was a little later than she intended on her return to the office and found the door downstairs being held for her by James.

He glanced at the bag in her hand and then at her feet. A gleam, it could only be of amusement, put the golden touch to his chestnut eyes. ‘What is it with you and shoes? They’re ridiculous.’

‘No, they’re not.’ They were gorgeous, and felt light and cool on her feet. And sexy.

‘Suitable for five minutes’ standing and nothing more.’

‘I can do anything in these shoes,’ she declared rashly.

An eyebrow quirked and the gleam became decidedly devilish. ‘Anything? Race me up the stairs, then.’

Her chin lifted and adrenalin kicked through her body. ‘I’m actually pretty fast.’

His smile widened more but the reply was slow and mocking. ‘That I can believe.’

Her eyes narrowed; the need to justify herself galloped through her. She turned and faced the flight of stairs. ‘Marks, get set, GO.’ She took off and was aware of nothing moving at her side. At the top of the first flight she stopped and looked down to where he stood watching. ‘Why aren’t you racing?’

‘I’m giving you a head start. Those shoes really are a handicap.’

‘More fool you.’

She ran, light-footed and quick. But he, unlike she, could leap up three or four at a time. While her legs were long, she had to tackle the stairs one at a time, for fear of, well, breaking an ankle.

Naturally it was no time at all before he’d bounded by her side and in front. He stopped on the next landing.

‘Overtaken on the third flight,’ he mocked. ‘Admit it, barefoot you’d be better.’

‘My shoes are part of my self-expression.’

‘Beautiful and decorative and entirely unsuitable for anything useful.’

She could feel the flush. Frustration merely made it worse. ‘Actually I prefer to think of them as a little different, a little dangerous and definitely desirable.’

His smile sharpened. ‘Definitely,’ he repeated softly. ‘But I still think you’d be better off without them.’

He kept walking and she tried to hold her ground, but as he came right into her space she couldn’t stop her steps back. He followed, and she kept backing until there was nowhere to go unless she was suddenly imbued with the power to walk through walls.

‘What are you doing?’ Did she have to sound so breathless still?

‘I’m the winner. I’m collecting my prize.’

OK, so now she was breathless. ‘We didn’t get round to discussing prizes.’

‘No. So we didn’t.’ He looked thoughtful. ‘I won. I get to choose.’ He grinned—looked as if he’d decided. ‘What does the hero always ask of the princess?’

‘I’m not sure you could be called a hero.’

‘A kiss,’ he declared and didn’t bother to address her point. ‘It’s always a kiss.’

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, James.’ It was a moment of cool sanity in the heat of her vexation and failure. She refused to let the knot of desire inside uncoil.

His eyes narrowed. ‘There’s no crowd for you to hide behind now. You’re actually going to have to deliver.’

So he was still thinking of the near-miss kiss too. She’d thought of not much else every night since in her apartment with its soulless walls and its big lonely bed. She’d got so close, pulling away like that had left more regret than she’d expected.

He rested his hands on the wall either side of her head. His body a hard plane leaning slightly over hers. The ambient temperature spiked. Despite her reluctance a wave of want washed over her.

‘This isn’t a good idea,’ she repeated. But she couldn’t quite bring herself to say no.

She couldn’t be sure he’d hear her anyway, he was staring so intently at her mouth, seeming so focused as to be oblivious to everything else.

‘I know,’ he muttered.

Regardless of that admission, he lowered his head. She kept her eyes open so she could see him right up close—the faint darkness on his jaw where his stubble was starting to show, the fringe of thick lashes over those golden lit brown eyes, the fullness of lips.

He too kept his eyes open—barely. Golden lights gleamed beneath his lashes and all she wanted was for them to move closer. He didn’t press his mouth to hers immediately. For a moment that felt like for ever he stood, lips a millimetre from hers, until she was the one who made the first minuscule move—almost unconsciously, a tiny lift to her chin.

At that his tongue flickered out and touched the corner of her mouth. Then his lips descended that last infinitesimal distance. Soft and gentle at first, then any sense of reluctance vanished. In that instant the pressure was harder and the sensations deeper and suddenly it was no sweet, simple kiss but one that was hard and hot and hungry and without end.

Some time ago her eyes had shut, she didn’t know exactly when, but now it was dark and velvety and warm and with every timeless moment she felt herself slipping further under the spell of sensuous desire that he was weaving.

He was good. Oh, yes, he was very, very good.

She thought he was about to pull away so she moved. Pushed fingers through his thick hair, holding him near so she could keep kissing him, keep him kissing her.

Their noses brushed and hers was filled with his clean soapy smell. Her body arched, seeking the strength of his. His hands were still planted on the wall behind her. She wanted him to move them, wanted them on her. She could sense the strength in the arms that made bars—a prison she had no desire to escape from. She just wanted the bonds to be tighter and right around her.

She arched her body closer to his again, restless and irritated that he was out of reach. His lips left hers, but only so they could press kisses along her jaw and she groaned, not wanting the deep kiss to stop, but at the same time wanting him to explore all of her the way he was now exploring her neck. At the sound he returned to her mouth, his tongue at first toying and then taking. She opened for him and fought back, her fingers twirling through his hair, her tongue twisting round his.

She was unprepared for the sudden slam of his body as he flung forward, melding his body length against hers. The impact was a shock, but one of pure pleasure, forcing from her a cry of surprised delight, followed by a sigh that blatantly asked for more.

She tried to breathe but he was there and taking deeper from her, not giving her the chance to get oxygen—no chance to clear her head. She spread her legs a fraction more and he pushed closer so his hard thigh hit the spot she needed it to.

Chest to chest, hip to hip, the hunger in her belly roared. She moaned again, twisted against him, wanting closer, wanting naked, wanting complete consummation.

He pressed against her and his body was as hard and strong as she’d imagined. Hers grew softer, shifting, making space for him, her curves melting into his planes. Yet inside the tension of desire was pulling ever tighter and her muscles wanted to move. The kisses grew even more fiery. Passion, more raw, more extreme than she’d known.

She couldn’t stop the instinctive rocking of her hips, only able to make tiny movements she was so squashed between the concrete wall behind her and the even harder pressure of his body up against hers. The pleasure and the torture were too exquisite. She thought he was as turned on as she, his body was so rigid and she was sure she could feel him shaking while he took possession of her mouth with his tongue. Oh, his tongue and his lips tasted of paradise and they alternately nibbled and devoured her. She moaned again under the onslaught of sensual pleasure, the promise of carnal delight and she couldn’t wait much more. She wanted that tongue everywhere; she wanted him everywhere. She wanted it all, right now.

And then he was gone. Wrenching his head free of her hands, which were roughly tugging through his thick hair, he stepped back, whirled round and planted his back on the wall next to hers. He rammed both fists beside him onto the cool concrete. It must have hurt. Side by side they stood. Silent save for the rush of breathing and the fight to get it back to normal speed.

Finally James spoke. Quick, rough, all banter banished. ‘You were right.’

Bemused, she turned her head, wanting to read his expression. But side on she saw nothing but the set of his jaw and lowered lids as he scrutinised the stairs going down ahead of them.

She just wanted him to step closer again.

His frown deepened and when he spoke again the words impacted much more clearly. ‘That wasn’t a good idea.’

A chill feathered over her—making goose bumps rise on her overheated skin. For all her supposed wild-child ways she’d never contemplated sex in a stairwell before. And one minute ago she hadn’t just been contemplating it, she’d nearly begun to beg. She’d been the one moaning; she’d been the one rocking against him; she’d been the one to incite it all. He’d just stayed tight and hard—right up against her. Except for his tongue, which he damn well knew how to use, he hadn’t been moving at all.

And he was regretting even that already. Here she was feeling both shattered and completely turned on and he was thinking, uh oh, bad move. It was written all over him—in the way he’d thrust away from her, not into her as she’d wanted.

Humiliation seeped through every cell. Had she turned him off? He’d only asked for a kiss and she’d offered him everything on a platter. Side order of fries and free dessert included—all at once. Too far, too fast.

And he wasn’t interested. Right now he wouldn’t even look at her.

‘Then let’s just forget it ever happened.’That sure was what she intended to do. With cold precision she moved forward, up the last flight of stairs to where their offices were.

He didn’t reply, didn’t follow. Didn’t appear in the office for another twenty minutes—during which time she’d managed a side trip to the bathroom to fix her face and hair. She winced at her reflection—all big eyes and puffy lips and hard nipples.

When he walked back into the office suite he didn’t acknowledge her. Just nodded generally in the direction of her and the temp secretary, stalking straight into his office and closing the door. Clearly he’d paid a trip to the little room too because his hair wasn’t sticking up the way it had after she’d had her fingers through it.

She’d never had an experience where she’d slipped so out of control. As far as he’d be concerned she’d have proved herself right on one thing only—that she was pretty fast. But he’d never know that that was only with him. She wasn’t going to make a fool of herself like that again.

Utterly mortified she sat and forced herself to focus and work hard on the arrangements. She refused to fail now. It was precisely what they all expected her to do. Even James. Especially James.

Now more than ever, she needed to prove him wrong.