Читать книгу Modern Romance Books September Books 5-8 - Кэтти Уильямс, Annie West, Cathy Williams - Страница 17

A VIRGIN. IT beggared belief that the sexiest woman he had ever laid eyes on was a virgin. And yet, thinking about it, it certainly explained all those intangible contradictions he had subliminally observed in her.

He stared at her and the glass-green eyes staring back at him conveyed a mixture of challenge and hesitation that cut right to the core of him. He had never slept with a virgin and had never actually thought about what it might be like to sleep with one. Some men fantasised about that kind of thing. He wasn’t one of them. He had lost his own virginity at a young age to an experienced older woman and he’d never looked back.

But now...

Something weirdly gentle and protective twisted inside him, a softness that he couldn’t remember having experienced before.

‘I would understand if you decided that a virgin wasn’t what you had banked on.’

‘Don’t say that, cara.’ He stroked her face, touching her as gently as someone would touch a piece of priceless china. So tough, so strong and yet so damned fragile. ‘Sofia, I should be the one asking you whether you want to go ahead with this. I’m not Mr Right. I don’t do love. I...’ Rafael hesitated. ‘I’ve seen where love goes and it’s...what can I say?...never to a good place. David is a case in point. Two ridiculous marriages to women who bled him dry...and of course his relationship with your mother that came to nothing.’

Not to mention his own parents, Sofia thought, sinking into the tenderness that had sprung up between them, of which he was probably unaware. Tenderness wouldn’t be an emotion factored into his psyche and he was oh, so entrenched in the notion that he could control every aspect of his life, including every single emotion. He’d said that parents had a lot to answer for and she knew, whether he was capable of voicing it himself or not, that he had lived through the dark side of love, the all-consuming love of two people who had had no time for the son they had created because they’d been too selfish, too self-indulgent. All round, his experiences would have left a bitter taste in his mouth and soured his vision of what could be a wonderful thing.

Had he any idea how...human...those very things made him?

‘No,’ she whispered, pulling him towards her, breathing in the clean scent of whatever aftershave he was wearing. ‘You’re not Mr Right, but you’re the only guy I want just at this moment in time and I don’t want to look beyond that. I just want to...enjoy myself and go with the flow and not think about what’s right or what’s wrong...’

* * *

His nakedness stilled her. Undressed, he was everything she had imagined him to be and much, much more. She stared at his impressive size and wondered at the technicalities of what happened next.

But he knew she was a virgin and he hadn’t backed off. The very opposite.

‘Don’t be nervous,’ he soothed, settling next to her and flipping her so that they were stomach to stomach, looking at one another in the darkness of the bedroom. ‘I’ll be gentle. When it comes to sex, you’d be surprised. I can have a very slow hand. I’ll take care of you.’

Now, he guided her hand to touch him and continued talking to her in a low, seductive voice while he showed her how to excite him.

‘Not too fast and not too hard.’ He licked her ear and nuzzled against her neck while she squirmed wetly in the panties that had yet to be removed and banked down the urge to push him against her breasts, which ached. Would that be too forward?

He kept his hand over hers, moving it slowly, firmly, guiding her until she was losing herself in the sensation of feeling his arousal.

Then he deftly removed her panties, slipping them down and gently inserting his hand between her thighs.

He rested the palm of his hand over her and it felt so good that she parted her legs, encouraging him to do more, but he didn’t and that stoked the urgent excitement inside her until she wanted to scream with frustration.

She whimpered when he removed his hand so that he could explore the rest of her body.

He kissed her, a long, lingering kiss, tongues meshing, breathing into her mouth and filling her with suffocating longing. He nuzzled the side of her neck, sweeping her long hair back and sifting his fingers through its length. He took his time paying attention to her breasts, circling one swollen nipple with his mouth and suckling on it while he toyed with the other with his fingers, gently rubbing and rousing until the whimpers turned into moans of barely contained excitement.

She squirmed against his mouth and pressed his head so that the caress deepened, deepened until darts of erotic pleasure were shooting through her body, from her toes to the very tips of her fingers. He smoothed his hand over her flat belly, tracing each curve and indent, from the dip of her waist to the soft oval of her belly button. And then this time, when he felt the dampness between her legs, he didn’t just let the flat of his hand cup her. He deftly inserted his finger, instantly finding her sensitive clitoris, and she gasped, eyes opening, as he began stroking.

It didn’t take long. She’d never come close to this level of sensation and she came fast, unable to contain the rising surge of pleasure as he continued to stroke, his movements firm and rhythmic.

She arched back with a low shuddering groan and her eyes fluttered shut as she reached her orgasm against his finger.

She subsided, pink-faced and dismayed.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘What for?’

‘Rafael...’

‘Shh...trust me.’ He caressed her lightly, taking his time, and his mouth replaced his fingers. He licked a trail along her breasts down to her belly button and then he took his time, teasing the soft inside of her thighs.

Having crested one explosive wave of sensation, Sofia didn’t think that it would be possible to do anything more than just flop like a rag doll in the aftermath, but she was wrong.

Her body slowly awakened. She moved against him, desperate to pleasure him the way he had pleasured her, shyly wondering whether she would be any good.

She was mystified as to how she could ever have relegated sex to the position of second-rate companion to the bigger thing called love. She’d imagined herself meeting the perfect guy, someone kind and gentle, and her imagination had stopped at the bedroom door.

Rafael wasn’t the perfect guy, and he didn’t even bother to try and pretend otherwise. He’d entered into a contract with her, and then it had been a case of, ‘oh, by the way, I fancy you so why not?’, but that was where personal involvement had ended, even though in some strange way she didn’t feel used. They talked. Was that it? They laughed together. Okay, so they might not have a romantic connection, and he might scoff at all talk of anything more than sex and lust, but they communicated. She wondered whether that was why she could give herself to him the way she was doing now.

He’d kicked that bedroom door open and was showing her just how inadequate all her fuzzy daydreams had been—showing her that there was no such thing as black and white when it came to the physical side of a relationship.

The reality of his strong, lean, naked body against hers was explosive. She wriggled as he nudged his sensuous path downwards and then breathed in sharply as his mouth pressed softly against her womanhood, nuzzling the downy fur between her legs, then inserting his tongue into the slick groove and licking her.

She couldn’t breathe.

Time stood still. Little shivers raced through her body, darting here, there and everywhere. She could feel pleasure building, and he could sense it as well, because he drew back, briefly enough for her to want just a little bit more.

The stop-start teasing was driving her crazy. He took her almost to the brink, only to bring her back down again, and in the end she was the one to tell him that she was ready.

‘I want you in me,’ she urged with wicked abandon, tugging him up by the hair and writhing as he wrapped his arm around her.

She had been apprehensive about the pain but she needn’t have worried. He’d promised to be gentle and he was. He fumbled over the condom, which made her smile, but when he settled back into her she was ready for him, slick and wet, and she felt just the smallest discomfort when he began to thrust more firmly into her.

‘Relax, cara,’ he urged. ‘I’m going as slowly as I can but it’s hard. You’re driving me crazy and all I want is to move inside you.’

‘I want that too, Rafael.’ It was a struggle to talk because after the discomfort her body began to respond in ways she couldn’t have predicted, soaring and swooping as, encouraged by her, he started thrusting with more force and purpose.

His bigness filled her up and carried her away until she lost touch with everything around her and the world was reduced to sensation.

She came with shuddering force, crying out, nails digging into his back, legs drawn up as he plunged deeply to find his own orgasm.

Sated, they remained locked together for a few minutes, then he rolled off her and stared up at the ceiling.

She wanted to talk. She felt an intense intimacy and she would have loved nothing more than to curl against him, have him stroke her and chat, laugh and cuddle.

It was a cool reminder of what this was all about when he slid off the bed and headed straight to the en suite bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

With the ardour fast draining out of her, Sofia remained where she was. She had just shared the most wonderful and earth-shattering experience of her entire life but had it been the same for him? Dared she hope?

She should protect herself—should remind herself that, for Rafael, this had been just a physical act. But she was weakly conscious of her thoughts and feelings all over the place, as though she’d been thrown into a tumble dryer and spun at high speed until nothing was quite where it should have been. She wondered whether he was disappointed with her performance and tried hard not to care, instead forcing her way through the drowsy contentment, trying to settle to reach a place where she could, at least, face him with a certain amount of self-control.

She sat up, drawing the duvet right up to her neck. With the bathroom light on behind him, he was a shadowy figure, hovering, and she watched him for a few moments, not quite knowing where they went from here.

‘Are you...finished in there? I thought I might have a shower.’

Rafael slowly towards her and then sat at the side of the bed, depressing it with his weight.

Her hands itched to reach out and touch him, pull him back to her, but her natural caution had kicked in and she looked at him warily, wondering what was going through his head.

‘That was—’ he began, and she interrupted before he could say something that would unintentionally hurt her.

‘I know. Probably not the best for you...’ She laughed nervously and his eyes narrowed.

‘I was going to say...that was incredible.’

Happiness bloomed inside her. ‘I got the impression that you couldn’t wait to hop out of bed.’

‘I wanted to take you again and I knew I couldn’t in case you were...sore. Or just needed some time out. It was safer for me to have a shower and get my act together.’

Sofia smiled shyly and touched his chest with her fingers, lightly circling his flat, brown nipple and enjoying the way his breathing thickened in response.

He caught her hand and then absently stroked her fingers with his thumb, eyes pinned to her face.

‘I could commute,’ he murmured thoughtfully.

‘Meaning?’

His voice was soft. ‘Meaning that I enjoyed that and I’d quite like to carry on enjoying it.’

‘That wasn’t part of the plan.’

‘Plans can change.’

‘You didn’t want complications.’

‘Does it have to be get complicated?’ He tilted his head to one side. ‘We both know what this situation is all about, and there’s a time line, which in all probability will be less than the allotted year. In the meantime...we’re married and all we’re doing is what all married people do.’ He looked at her, gaze serious. ‘We’re enjoying some hot sex before it all starts to unravel. The only difference is that we have the advantage of not being ambushed by disappointment when the inevitable happens.’

Faced with this stark choice, Sofia knew that she either indulged a sexual curiosity she’d never known she possessed, and for the foreseeable future sacrifice her principles about saving herself for the right guy to come along, or she walked away. But when she thought about walking away she was gripped with an emptiness so intense that she wanted to howl.

‘You’re right.’ She decided on the spot and met that serious gaze with equal gravity. ‘We both know the score. What’s to get complicated?’

* * *

Sofia approached the door to the opulent sitting room in her father’s house with her usual trepidation.

Old habits died hard, and even though it had been several weeks since the wedding, and even though she had seen him several times since then, she was still to shed her stiffness when she was around him.

Rafael oiled the wheels by always being present, allowing her to watch and contribute when she wanted to from a safe distance, but this time there was no Rafael.

‘Running late,’ he had phoned to say just as she had been stepping out of the Mercedes that had delivered her to the house. ‘I’ll be there as soon as I can, but this meeting has overrun and I can’t walk out. I’m discovering all sorts of mess created by David’s damned stepson. Some through sheer incompetence, but some needs delving into because I’m getting a whiff of things not as they should be. No idea what exactly is being concealed but I intend to find out and take him to the cleaners.’

What could she say? She knew the boundaries to what they had and she wasn’t going to overstep them. They had great sex. They came together in bed and were the perfect fit. It was a situation that wasn’t going anywhere and she knew that. Rafael didn’t have to repeat the mantra about theirs being a marriage of convenience, with a time limit as to its duration. That was a given, and she accepted it because what she got in return was mind-blowing.

How could sex be so good?

And out of bed...

She was learning how to make her way around him, how to manage him. Never had she met someone so dominant, so hard-wired to get his own way. No wonder he hadn’t batted an eyelid when it had been a case of hunting her down in Argentina and checking her out. He adored his godfather and he had brought one hundred percent of his incredible focus to doing what he had been asked to do. That she might have been hurt had not really occurred to him. Collateral damage was just something that happened. He was complex, infuriating, yet wonderfully exhilarating all at the same time, and Sofia knew that she was getting more and more sucked into his powerful aura with each passing day.

She didn’t like to think about time slipping past. The fact that he wasn’t standing here right now, in front of the imposing front door to her father’s exquisite Belgravia house, was a reminder of how much she had come to depend on the support he gave her without even realising that she was doing so.

Not just support when it came to interacting with her father but support with the accountancy course she had been determined to pursue, support with the landscaping of the garden to the cottage they visited on the weekends, dismissing what he didn’t like with a casual wave of his hand, and reminding her of how little interest he had in anything outdoors and green, yet glancing at the pictures she showed him and expressing opinions with his typical self-assurance. There were times when he slung his arm over her shoulders and leant into her to say something, and she could almost forget that what they had wasn’t actually real.

She rang the doorbell and, as soon as her father greeted her, she knew that he was well aware that his godson wasn’t going to be there.

‘Nice to have you to myself!’ David beamed, ignoring her tight, apprehensive expression and spinning round to lead the way into the sitting room, where tea was always taken. A part of her unexpectedly softened because his tenacity when it came to building a bond with her was slowly cutting through her defences.

Over the weeks, he had gained weight and was fond of dismissing the dietary guidelines strictly laid down by the nurse ‘companion’ he had hired to cook for him and oversee all his physical requirements, including distributing his tablets, which he had no trouble forgetting to take.

He was talking about nothing in particular, asking her about what she had been up to, and she found herself chatting back.

‘For a fake marriage,’ he mused, depositing himself on one of the deep chairs, ‘You seem to have some pretty real headaches. Rafael’s selfish, my dear. It’s a learned skill.’

Sofia scowled and wondered how she’d managed to blather on so much about him that David had actually picked up on it. She opened her mouth to protest and found herself asking with a nonchalant toss of her head, ‘What do you mean that it’s a learned skill? How can someone learn to be selfish? Not that I’m concerned one way or the other.’

Their eyes met, and she blushed.

‘He had to learn how to be a man when he was just a boy,’ David mused thoughtfully. ‘By which I mean that he had to learn how to suffer disappointment and rise above it.’

‘Because his parents weren’t around?’ What was wrong with a little curiosity?

‘Because they were very fond of making promises about visiting and then failing to deliver on the day because something better had come up. By the time Rafael was ten, he’d learned that waiting by the window of his dorm was pretty much a waste of time. So you see, my dear, independence was thrust upon him and selfishness became a way of life, because if you didn’t think about anyone else you couldn’t be hurt.’

Sofia’s eyes pricked. This was the first real conversation she had had with her father, because Rafael wasn’t around, and a warmth spread through her that fought through her stubborn pride. She blinked, cleared her throat and changed the subject but her head was full of images of a disappointed child wondering why his parents hadn’t shown up for the Nativity play or Sports Day or whatever else kids at posh boarding schools did with their free time.

‘The old bag has gone the extra mile and made some tasty little treats for us.’ He was waving his hand at the highly polished sideboard which was laden with exquisite titbits—delicate sandwiches, blinis and an assortment of miniature cakes.

‘I say made. She unbent enough to make the sandwiches, and those funny little things there, but told me that if I wanted more I’d have to hire someone else. The cheek! Good job I’m just the sort of understanding employer she can’t tear herself away from!’ He chuckled, peering at the array and filling his plate while Sofia shot to her feet and gently removed the plate.

‘You can’t eat most of this stuff,’ she chided.

‘The old witch isn’t around to supervise. Gave her a few hours off. Didn’t want her hovering and glowering.’

‘Gladys is one of the nicest people I have ever met.’

‘Hmph. Got the kind of thing I thought you’d enjoy, my dear. Your mother always had a soft spot for pastries. Used to enjoy watching her eat them. Delicate as a cat, licking her fingers one by one.’

Sofia stilled because this was one of those rare occasions when her mother had been mentioned.

Blushing furiously, she helped herself to what was on offer, very much aware of her father using a walker to return to his favourite chair, chatting about this and that, telling her about all the amazing changes Rafael had already initiated in the company.

It left her with a burning desire to bring the conversation back round to her mother but not quite knowing how she could achieve that.

So much the coward, she thought...too scared to let go of past resentments yet too scared to confront them.

‘You were talking about my mother.’ She interrupted him mid-sentence, before immediately frowning down at her half-empty china plate. She had poured them both cups of tea and hastily she gulped a hot mouthful, then darted a look at David to find him staring thoughtfully back at her.

‘Not if it upsets you, my dear,’ he said gently. ‘And I know it does. You don’t enjoy raking over the past any more than I do and I apologise if I inadvertently said anything to upset you.’

‘You haven’t.’ She was beetroot-red, but now that she had embarked on this she couldn’t jump ship. ‘I... I want to talk about it. It’s been festering inside me and I want to know why you dumped my mum. You and Rafael think that I can just shove the past away into a box and pretend it never happened, but she was never the same after you walked out on her. She was...she became...a mess as time went by.’ She looked away but it was taking everything she had inside her not to start crying.

She cringed as he heaved himself out of the deep chair using his walker, and made the few steps towards her, sinking onto the blue velvet sofa and patting the side for her to join him.

‘My dear, I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ he said, bewildered. ‘I never dumped your mother. It was the other way around!’

‘That’s not true,’ she whispered.

‘You have to listen to me, Sofia. I was called away on urgent family business all those years ago. A life-and-death situation that left me no time to contact your mother, so I left word with a friend and colleague, the only one who knew the details of our relationship in its entirety. I told him to explain to your mother what had happened. I left a letter, all sorts of forwarding details. Told him to tell her that I would be back, that she must wait. I had the ring, my dear. I had dreams.’

Sofia stared. ‘But—but that can’t be right,’ she stammered. ‘No, you have to be lying...mistaken...’

‘I kept the ring. I have it. I never put it on the finger of the woman I stupidly married because I was hurting. I still look at that ring.’

‘But you dumped her... Jon James told her that you couldn’t face telling her yourself but it was over. He told her to leave the hotel immediately before it became a public scandal. He said that there would be no references if the whole truth came out. She left and never looked back.’

The silence settled over them.

Restless in her own skin and thoughts all over the place, Sofia was dimly aware that she was asking questions, and lots of them, voice jerky and shaking as she pieced together a tale of a jealous colleague who had lied to both parties because the woman he wanted, her mother, had rejected his advances. Jon James, it turned out, was long gone but he had left behind a legacy that had outlived him because he had played with the truth and told enough lies with sufficient conviction to make sure he destroyed what could have been.

As proof of David’s unrequited love, she was eventually shown the ring her father had bought for the woman he had intended to marry. It was ornate, engraved, and her mother would have loved it. She’d always had a soft spot for the garish.

Sofia stared at it for such a long time that she felt as though she was freezing on the spot.

‘I should go,’ she said, eventually. When she looked at him she saw the man she had slowly been accepting over time—a strong, kind man who would have made her mother happy.

‘I want you to have the ring,’ David said. ‘It was only ever mine on loan, waiting for its rightful owner, and that rightful owner should now be you.’

‘But I already have a ring. And, besides, this is a marriage in name only...’

‘Then hang on to it, my dear, until the real thing happens. All these misunderstandings...a terrible waste, a terrible shame, and yet to know that I was loved. It’s a comfort, just as it would be a comfort for you to take what was destined for your dear mother.’

In the dim recesses of her brain, Sofia felt that she should want to telephone her aunt immediately and share this tumultuous development, but the person who beckoned to her as confidante was Rafael, and she was waiting for him when he returned to his apartment a scant half-hour after she had arrived back.

He paused in the doorway and her heart leapt in her chest as she stared at him, drinking in the lean lines of his body and that oddly endearing state of semi-dishevelment in which he returned every evening: tie off, shirt cuffed to the elbows, staging a war against the waistband of his handmade trousers, black hair tousled.

‘You’re back.’ He looked at her narrowly while absently hanging his tie over the banister.

‘It’s been...it’s been draining,’ Sofia whispered, moving towards him and not caring what he thought as she stepped into his arms. After just the briefest of hesitations, he wrapped his arms around her and breathed into her hair.

‘Tell me.’

‘I feel terrible,’ she all but sobbed when she had recounted every detail of the afternoon, leaving nothing out. Somehow, without letting her go, they had worked their way to the kitchen and he broke apart to pour her a small amount of brandy in a goblet.

‘Drink this,’ he urged. ‘You’ve had a traumatic afternoon and there’s nothing better for a bout of trauma than a swig of brandy.’

‘I don’t want you to let me go,’ Sofia confessed in a raw undertone, creeping back into his arms and sipping some of the fiery liquid before setting the glass down on the kitchen counter.

She didn’t care what he thought of that statement. She just knew that his arms around her filled her with a sense of well-being and a feeling of rightness.

This was where she belonged, she thought wonderingly. Just like that, her mind flashed back to all the times they had spent in one another’s company. She had summed it all up as two people uniting between the sheets but now she recalled the conversations they had had, the laughter they had shared, and now this...

Wanting him and only him at a time when she had needed soothing.

She loved him and she didn’t know how that had happened or when. She just knew that all her thoughts were of him. He was in her head from the moment she opened her eyes to the second she closed them, and she couldn’t imagine a time when he might not be there. David had said to hold on to the ring for a time when the real marriage happened. What a joke!

Could he ever love her? It happened, didn’t it? People got accustomed to someone and love crept up and ambushed them, wiped out all their cynicism, took them by surprise...

She would never tell him how she felt because she knew that he’d run a mile.

But there were other ways of reminding him that she was a part of his life and perhaps more invaluable than he might ever have expected.

‘Let’s go upstairs,’ he murmured.

‘I should cook us something to eat. I wouldn’t mind some comfort food. I don’t want any of that fancy stuff we order in from those restaurants.’

But she was winding her arms around his neck and stretching up to kiss him.

He adored her breasts and never stopped telling her.

She stepped back and kept her eyes locked to his as she slowly removed the shirt and flung it on the kitchen table, then the bra followed, releasing her heavy breasts.

His nostrils flared and his eyes darkened and a thrill of feminine power soared inside her.

With deliberate provocation, she held both her breasts in her hands and then, maintaining eye contact, she rotated the pads of her thumbs over the stiffened tips of her big nipples.

Rafael swore under his breath and when he spoke his voice was shaky.

‘It’s going to be a challenge making it up the stairs.’

‘Then we’d better stay down here.’

He smiled slowly and now it was his turn to get undressed, starting with his belt, which he pulled free in one easy move. Then the trousers were down and he stepped out of them, revealing the blatant push of his formidable erection against his boxers.

Sofia stepped forward, dipped her hands under and took his stiffened member so that she could start teasing it, rolling it the way she knew he liked, slowly and firmly, feeling the steady pulsing beneath her fingers.

‘Witch,’ he growled in response, propelling her back until her rear nudged the edge of the kitchen table. And then, in a flurry of discarded clothes, and with an urgency that barely allowed him time to don the necessary protection, he was taking her.

He had her on the table with her legs around his waist, standing in front of her. When he thrust, pushing her back, the pleasure was so exquisite that she cried out and clutched him. He held her in place and kept thrusting, his bigness filling her up, sending her body into a shrieking, uncontrolled response. The only sounds were their breathing, moaning and grunting and she felt her wetness around him as he rammed harder inside her.

They came together, bodies slick with perspiration, tensing, stiffening and then, at last, coming down from the peaks of their mutual ecstasy.

For Sofia, this was love, and she never wanted it to end. Ever.