Читать книгу The Abby Green Modern Collection - Эбби Грин - Страница 15

WHEN she woke the next morning Maggie’s head throbbed. She was alone in the bed. A note on the pillow next to her caught her eye:

I’m at a meeting but will come and meet you for lunch on the terrace at twelve-thirty. Caleb.

She checked the bedside clock. It was ten a.m. Sinking back on to the pillows, fragments of the previous night came back. Like water dripping into a well, she began to recall what had made her have that bizarre, terrifying reaction. She remembered the crowds, the heat of the room and then how her thoughts had begun to circulate sickeningly on the events of all those months before.

She had to concede that it was possible for a kind of delayed shock to set in. She’d been shouldering the burden for so long…even her mother didn’t know what had happened in London, the extent of Maggie’s involvement. The threat that only Maggie had been aware of.

And her mother wasn’t even aware of the plans Maggie had made for them to flee and hide in case Tom came after them. How relieved she’d been when she’d managed to persuade her mother to return home. Because she’d known that Tom would soon find out that Caleb had been aware all along, had prepared for the crude takeover bid. And when he found out, she knew he’d have blamed her…she worried her lower lip…but what had obviously happened then was that Caleb had immediately launched his own retaliation, thereby keeping Tom occupied. In a sick, twisted way, she recognised now that he had inadvertently saved her and her mother from Tom’s wrath.

It had to be seeing Caleb again, all the intense emotions he was provoking…that had led to a mini meltdown of sorts. She managed to smile ruefully at herself as she went on to the terrace to soak up the morning sun; she’d never seen herself as a drama queen.

Then she remembered how gentle Caleb had been, how he’d held her tight against his body. A warmth invaded her limbs; she could still recall the feeling of safety. The yearning that had overwhelmed her with its sweetness. The wish that it could be for real…She was very much afraid of being sucked into the same dangerous dream as before. A dream of Caleb loving her. She blocked the thought ruthlessly and went inside to have a shower. She didn’t love him…she didn’t. She didn’t even like him.

But you thought you did once…Can you just switch that off?

She ignored the prompt; if she repeated the words enough to herself like a mantra, she might just believe it.

At twelve-thirty Maggie was feeling back to normal. A table had just been delivered with a mouth-watering array of food—fresh fish, salad and crusty bread and a bottle of champagne on ice. She heard the door in the suite open and close and stood slightly awkwardly on the terrace when Caleb emerged. Her heart tripped predictably, the way it did every time she saw him, whether it had been seconds or hours in the interim.

‘How are you this morning?’ he asked coolly.

‘Fine. Much better. About last night, I’m so sorry, that’s never happened before.’

He lifted a hand. ‘It’s fine.’

‘Okay…’ Maggie trailed off. He clearly didn’t want to discuss it. Maybe he was angry that they hadn’t slept together. Maybe he thought it was an elaborate attempt on her part to avoid it? She suddenly hated the thought he might suspect that of her. She moved closer and put an impulsive hand on his arm. ‘You don’t think that I…Well, that I did it on purpose to…’ She stopped, her face crimson with awkwardness and a cold horror struck her…Had her body somehow shut down because of that too?

‘No, of course not.’ And he genuinely didn’t. That thought had never even entered his head and it surprised him now.

The residue of her disturbing thoughts still lingered and she answered absently, ‘Good.’

‘Let’s eat.’

‘All right.’

They sat down at the table that had been erected, complete with a pristine tablecloth and gleaming cutlery. With only the faint sounds of a few cars down in the square, someone calling to someone else, it was unbelievably intimate and private on their little terrace. The scent of the flowers hung heavy in the air.

Caleb busied himself opening the champagne and poured Maggie a glass before tending to himself. She murmured thanks and tried to appear cool, as though this happened every day for her.

‘So what’s on the cards for later? Another dinner?’

Caleb inclined his head. ‘Yes, I’m afraid so. But you don’t have to come if you think you’re not up to it.’

His consideration touched her, despite the wall of ice she was trying to pack around her heart as she looked at him. She shook her head. ‘No, I’ll be fine. I’m not normally the fainting type. It’s really never happened before.’ She even felt guilty now because she knew what had brought it on. Not that she could tell him. She had to make an effort to appear unconcerned. As if he didn’t hold her world in his hands.

She flashed him a rare smile. ‘I can’t wait to fend off more women, listen to people talk about the royal family as though they’re intimate friends and try to decipher your financial jargon…’

A sharp burst of empathy made him suck in a breath. He caught himself and grimaced, unable to help a rueful smile that transformed his face and took Maggie’s breath away; he seemed to have taken her unspoken cue to be light too. It made him look years younger.

‘I’m sorry; I know how boring they can be. As for fending off the women, you saw the worst of the bunch last night. They don’t see me, they see dollar signs, no ring and a potential husband for their daughters.’

She was thrown by his apology. He seemed for once not to be lumping her into that category and he was wrong—they saw far more than that. He was all the more attractive because of his youth, virility and his wallet. She couldn’t help asking, ‘Don’t you want to get married some day?’

She could feel herself holding her breath as she saw the expressions flit over his face and the shutters came back down. A muscle twitched at his jaw. His voice was unbearably harsh. ‘With what I’ve seen? Hardly. If I do marry, it’ll be purely a business arrangement…and for children.’

She couldn’t help the shiver that seemed to invade her very bones at his words. In a way, from the brief experience she’d had of the circles he moved in, she couldn’t blame him. She remembered the looks of pure vitriol that had come her way from those women and could only imagine the conversations in the bathroom. There was a melancholic ring to his words too that made Maggie want to question him, find out what had put it there, find out more about his life, parents…but she couldn’t.

In an effort to avoid talking about anything too personal, she started chattering about anything and everything. Caleb sat back and studied her. She was casual in a sleeveless crossover top and linen trousers. And something niggled him about that, but before he could figure out what it was, he was distracted. Her face was animated, telling a story, but he was captivated by her movements, the way her eyes widened in emphasising a point. They’d spent two nights sharing the same bed…and still not slept together. That was a first for him. And he knew he couldn’t bear to wait much longer. He’d woken several times during the previous night and even had to take a cold shower at one stage. Again.

‘…and that was it, really.’ Maggie stopped awkwardly; she knew he hadn’t really been listening to her. Was she that boring?

Caleb sat forward. ‘Sorry, I was miles away.’

‘That’s okay.’ She smiled tightly.

Suddenly he felt like kicking himself. He’d hurt her, by not listening to her. And he was perplexed by her reaction. Shouldn’t she be cajoling him now? Making him pay for his lack of attention, sliding on to his lap, trying to entice him to go to bed for the afternoon?

He shook his head. Her act of innocence was so ingrained that it was second nature. He shook his head at himself. She was reeling him in again.

‘What is it?’ Maggie had a look of almost concern on her face.

‘Nothing,’ he said harshly. He stood and pushed back his chair; it sounded shrill on the stone ground. Maggie flinched, a tiny movement. ‘You should take it easy this afternoon.’

She could be cool too. ‘I’m fine, Caleb, really. It won’t happen again. I’m going to do some sightseeing this afternoon.’ She shrugged lightly. ‘I might never be back here again…’

His eyes narrowed. She really hadn’t said that with any guile. Had she? His mouth quirked dryly. ‘Oh, I’m sure you could persuade someone to bring you here again…’

She fought off the urge to defend herself from the obvious implication that he meant another lover…if she could even call him that. Right now, when he was being cynical and hateful, it was very easy to forget nonsensical, fantastical notions of being in love. She clung on to it like a shield around her heart.

‘I’m sure you’re right.’ And she smiled up at him sunnily.

‘I’ll see you this evening. We go out at half seven.’

She nodded her head and watched as he walked away, sagging back into the chair once he’d gone, only aware then how much tension she’d been holding in.

Maggie was determined that Caleb would not affect her equilibrium, not with thoughts of the evening ahead or his tart barbs. So much for their short-lived truce.

She was doing a bus top sightseeing tour. But…try as she might, she couldn’t block out the fantasy that hovered annoyingly like a wispy mist on the periphery of her mind. That if they’d met under different circumstances, he could perhaps feel something for her—beyond the mild contempt, distrust, all wrapped up in overwhelming desire, which was the reality.

She flipped her sunglasses back down on to her nose and grimaced. That was the problem; even if she could indulge herself for one second that Caleb didn’t have an axe to grind with her…then that would only put her in the same category as his usual mistresses. Which meant, she knew well, a bit of fun for a while, being indulged, cosseted, then…he’d walk away. That was what he’d meant last night, when he’d alluded to the fact that they always knew where they stood with him. And, even if that was the case, that wouldn’t be enough. Not for her.

Maybe they had thicker skins? She valiantly ignored the absurd desire to line all of them up in front of a firing range. In a way, she reassured herself, she was better off; because she and Caleb had such a tangled history, it meant that he would never allow her to get too close.

Or you him…

Of course! she thought angrily, answering herself, it worked in her favour too. It did. She just wasn’t entirely sure how…yet.

She spotted something on the street and got off at the next stop. Without questioning why, she found herself walking into the beautician’s she’d seen. It was not because she wanted to make an effort. It was not giving into this fantasy. It was just female pride.

That night at another glittering function, it was like a carbon copy of the previous night. The same people, the same conversations. And yet…what was going on between them was subtly different. Maggie was tucked into Caleb’s side, a possessive arm around her waist. He was including her in conversations, making it very clear she was with him. His woman. She could remember the look he’d given her earlier when she’d emerged from the dressing room in the suite. Her whole body still tingled from it.

At the beauticians she’d been waxed, plucked, buffed. Nothing that he would notice…but she knew. That somehow made it erotic. She berated herself. Indulging herself like this would only end in pain. She knew it. But she couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help the devilish, rogue desire within her that had chosen the dress she had. It was one of the ones the sales girl had picked out, something Maggie would never normally have the nerve to wear. But something she guessed would be suitable.

With her hair piled in a loose knot on top of her head, the black dress was deceptively simple. A cowl neckline at the front didn’t reveal too much but then, behind, it fell away, revealing her whole back. She’d always been self-conscious of her freckles everywhere but somehow now, here with Caleb, with his possessive arm around her, she felt…something close to beautiful for the first time in her life.

Without her realising it, the crowd had dispersed somewhat and Caleb led Maggie out to the terrace. The balmy air drifted around them on a light scented breeze and she breathed in deeply. There was a secluded gazebo at one end and Caleb took her hand, bringing her over.

‘What…what are we doing here?’

Under the trellis roof that had flowers hanging down in a mass of twisting vines and leaves, he turned her to face him. ‘Something I’ve been wanting to do all evening.’ He dipped his head to her ear, making a delicious shiver skate up and down her spine. ‘Your back has been driving me crazy.’

He pulled her even closer and she gasped when she felt the hardness of his arousal pressing into her belly. It called to her, made her damp with anticipation. She was breathless, waiting for the kiss, the embrace which was inevitable. His mouth hovered infuriatingly over her neck, lips barely skimming her skin. She wound her hands up and around his neck, craving an even closer embrace. Not thinking, not capable, just feeling.

Then his hands were on her bare back and a tremor shot through her. And in that moment his mouth covered hers and she was lost. He traced the outline of her lips, before his tongue delved in and met hers in an intoxicating dance. She was helpless but to succumb, matching his thrusts with her own, shyly allowing him to teach her, guide her.

His hands moulded, traced her waist, her spine, the smooth silky skin. Then one hand moved down and down until it rested just over the material of the dress that lay over her buttocks. She drew back, eyes dark and wide. Breath coming in short gasps. Watching her as he did, his hand went under the material, down until he felt the curve of her bottom, sheathed in silk panties. Her hands tightened on his shoulders.

His eyes were on her flushed face; they glittered with intent as he bent his head and took her mouth again with passionate bruising force, just as his hand went beneath the silk and caressed, smoothed, explored the voluptuous curves. Then his hand dipped all the way down, fingers seeking, underneath, all the way until…

Maggie gasped against his lips as his fingers found the moist evidence of her desire. Stroking back and forth, seeking the most sensitive part. When she would have pulled away, he held her to him fast and it was the most exquisite torture. She couldn’t do anything, couldn’t move. He was relentless. And then he was there…at that part…A spasm passed through her in response and still she was held captive. Unable to escape a pleasure that was almost too much. Too intense.

With his head bent, pressing fiery kisses against her neck, her head fell back. One hand held her like a vise against his body and with his other hand he was fast bringing her whole body upwards on a spiral of some devilish, overwhelming sensation, the like of which she’d never experienced. She could feel the subtle rhythm of his hard body as it pressed against her, she knew she’d widened her legs to tacitly give him access and their movements became more and more urgent, she didn’t know what she was seeking, it was something that lay tantalisingly just out of reach and then…suddenly something gripped her that was so devastating…she stopped breathing for a minute.

Slow seconds later, as if she’d been transported to some other place, she slowly returned and felt her whole being throbbing, pulsating in the aftermath of what felt like an earthquake on her senses. As reality trickled back into her fuzzy mind, as Caleb straightened and loosened his hold slightly, she knew with astounding clarity that she’d just had her first orgasm. She looked up at Caleb, knew that she must have a dazed expression on her face and couldn’t even begin to disguise it. She had lost her virginity to her one boyfriend in college, but he’d never ever made her feel anything beyond mild discomfort. This…this, however, was in another league. She heard the murmur of low voices nearby, a tinkle of laughter coming from the ballroom just yards away.

She had come apart in his arms, on little more than the strength of a kiss, had allowed him full access without so much as a murmur of dissent. Without thinking, she just reacted, had to get away. ‘Excuse me…I need to go to the bathroom.’

Caleb let her go and she went, hoping she didn’t look as devastated by what had just happened as she felt.

He watched her go, sitting back on the seat behind him in a sprawl. His own heart rate was just beginning to return to normal and the unsatisfied ache was acute.

He shook his head grimly; he’d only planned on kissing her. Hadn’t planned on the sudden need to maul her senseless. What was wrong with him? The last time he’d caressed a woman so comprehensively in a public place was when he’d been a gauche teenager. And it had been a girl, not a woman. He cursed himself; he wouldn’t be surprised if she had a love bite on her neck.

But she had been so responsive…That subtle touch of feigned innocence was fast pushing him over the edge whenever he came near her. With just his hands on her back! He could still feel the tremor that had run through her, pushing her breasts against him, igniting a fire in his belly…in his loins. And that had intoxicated him beyond the point of reason. She’d been the same that night in London, which he remembered all too well…and yet she’d stopped just when…just when he’d been able to stop. Maybe she was doing it again? Giving him a taste of nirvana, only to bring him to his knees, expose him.

She would not do that to him again. No way. And this time he wouldn’t stop. He knew her response wasn’t fake. He was arrogantly sure of that. She wouldn’t be able to stop herself this time. With a determined lithe push to stand, he was hidden in the shadows for a moment before going in search of Maggie. It was time to claim his prize.

Back in the hotel room, Maggie heard the door click ominously shut behind Caleb. She felt skittish and on edge. She wasn’t ready for this. She needed time to process what had happened, had to be in control of her emotions when she gave herself to him. She was still stunned, shocked by the depth of her response to him in the gazebo. As soon as she’d emerged back into the ballroom she’d caught his eye immediately. She’d stood there, fighting the urge to run in the opposite direction as he’d strode towards her, the people melting away either side of him. Without saying a word, he’d halted in front of her, taken her hand and led her out. Not one word. To anyone. And now here they were, back in the hotel. The huge bed just there, in her field of vision.

Maggie turned to face him, not even knowing what to say, but before she could speak, unaware of the turmoil of her thoughts, he went towards the bathroom, shedding his jacket as he did so.

‘I’m going to have a shower…’

‘Okay…’ Panic gripped her voice, making it sound shrill to her ears. ‘I’ll have one after you.’

He turned at the door, raising one black brow. ‘Unless you want to share?’

‘No…’ she said hastily—too hastily. ‘I’ll wait.’

He shrugged.

Maggie went out to the balcony and paced up and down with arms wrapped around her body. She couldn’t even think coherently. This was happening too fast—way too fast. She was still in pieces after little more than a bout of heavy petting. How would she cope when Caleb…took her completely? Her belly flooded with liquid fire just at the thought and she sat on a chair weakly. She wasn’t the woman of the world that he was used to. She was just plain, simple Maggie Holland. The girl with the red hair and freckles who bruised easily and still had scars from falling off trees when she was small. And other scars that he could never know about. She needed time, space. To fight off the inevitable for just a little longer.

The bathroom door opened. She sprang up. He was finished already? Caleb emerged with an indecently small towel around his waist. Hair wet, sleek against his head. Maggie’s stricken gaze couldn’t escape the wide, broad, muscled chest, a light sprinkling of hair that tapered down to his lean waist. Her eyes skipped over the towel and down over long, long, strong, shapely legs. She gulped. He was shameless under her gaze and indicated the door. ‘Bathroom’s all yours…Don’t be long, Maggie.’

Once inside, she sagged against the door. The mist enveloped her—the heat of his body, the musky scent still in the air. It brought her whole body back into tingling awareness. She had to do something. She couldn’t face her ultimate capitulation tonight. Tomorrow, maybe…but not now, not after that…explosive experience.

She kicked off her shoes and went to the mirror, looking at her reflection. Two bright spots of colour highlighted her cheeks; her eyes were too wide and bright. She ran the bath in a desperate attempt to buy some more time to think.

Finally. After waiting for as long as she thought she could, Maggie cautiously opened the bathroom door. Caleb lay on the bed against the pillows with his eyes closed. She emerged slowly. Maybe he was asleep? His eyes snapped open. No such luck. He came up on one arm, a frown appearing when he noticed that she hadn’t changed out of the dress. Then a gleam of appreciation lit them.

‘Good. I was just fantasising about taking it off you. Come here.’

He thought she’d left it on, on purpose…

Little did he know the terror in her chest—how could he not see it? She moved forward one foot and stopped.

He frowned again. She looked too serious. ‘Maggie…’he said warningly.

‘Caleb. Wait.’ She put up a hand and prayed for courage. ‘I’m not going to sleep with you until I’ve signed the contract.’

He sprang from the bed and Maggie fled back into the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it just as she heard Caleb’s fist make a connection. Her heart hammered against her ribs. The door knob jiggled. She jumped back.

‘Maggie…Open up or, so help me God, I will break this door down.’

Desperation made her voice weak. ‘You said I’d sign a contract guaranteeing that the house would go back into my mother’s name. I want to do that before anything…happens between us.’

‘It’s already happened, sweetheart.’

She burned on the other side of the door. But at least he wasn’t threatening to break it down any more, although he did sound as though he wanted to throttle her.

‘Maggie, come out…’

‘No way.’

She could hear a muffled oath.

‘Not unless you promise not to touch me.’

There was a very long silence. So long that Maggie was afraid he’d left without telling her and now she’d be stuck in the bathroom all night. Then she heard a very low, ‘Fine.’

She turned the lock and opened the door. She was relieved when she saw Caleb on the other side of the room in his trousers, arms folded across his chest. His face like thunder. She quivered inwardly but strove for confidence on the outside.

‘Do you want to tell me what this is all about?’ he asked tightly.

‘I want to sign that contract. Once I know for sure you’re going to keep your word, then you can…have…make me yours.’ Those words alone sent a spiral of heat through her body.

He came a little closer. She backed away slightly. ‘If I remember correctly, I made no such assurance; the agreement was that you would move in, become my mistress and then…I would sign the house back to your mother.’

Damn him, he was right. Her shoulders sagged. For a moment Caleb felt something move through him…almost concern. She looked unbelievably vulnerable.

The only thing stopping him from doing what he wanted, going over and shaking her, then kissing her thoroughly was the knowledge that he wanted to do it so badly it scared him. And he would control himself around her, although the gazebo and the passion she had incited still held him in its grip.

Remembering something, he looked and, sure enough, he could see a faint red mark on her neck. It firmed his resolve not to let her see how close he was to losing it. He, Caleb Cameron, one of the wealthiest tycoons in the world, his expertise worth millions, had given a grown woman a love bite. So he stood back. Maybe he needed some time, a little space to make sure he was in control the next time.

Maggie lifted her head and looked at him, those huge green eyes pinning him to the spot.

‘Look. You have me. I’m not going to deny you what you want…’

‘You want me too, Maggie…’

More than anything.

Her eyes flared for a second, telling him of her agreement even though she didn’t say it. ‘My dignity and self-respect are pretty much in the gutter right now. All I’m asking is that when we get back you let me sign the contract and then…then…’

There would be no more excuses to avoid the inevitable…

‘Okay.’

Maggie thought she hadn’t heard him correctly it was so quick. ‘Okay?’

‘Yes. Fine.’ He walked past her, his face expressionless, and started to dress again.

‘What…where are you going?’

‘Well, Maggie, as you’re not willing to share my bed yet…I’m going to go out. You’d better hope to be asleep by the time I return.’

And with that he was gone. Maggie had got what she wanted, so why didn’t she feel happy? Why did she want to run out of the door after him and say, Stop! I’m sorry, please come back, take me to bed? She cursed herself, she was only prolonging the pain, the anticipation, the misery. What had she done? Her brain was scrambled beyond all comprehension with him around. But the minute he was gone it was clear again. She had pushed him too far. And now he was gone, back to the function. It was the only place. Or maybe he’d go to a small smoky bar, seek out a kindred soul.

She sat down on a chair. He could have his pick of any number of the beauties who had been vying for his attention the past two evenings. Any number of the beauties in this place. He had gone, to take his pick. He was letting her know that she wouldn’t hold him back. But even with that knowledge, her weak body burned for his, ached for a deeper fulfilment than she’d experienced earlier. She changed, washed and climbed into bed, letting sleep obliterate her tortured imaginings.

The next morning Maggie woke and felt safe and secure. A cocoon of warmth surrounded her. She moved experimentally to try and keep it, deepen it, and then froze as she realised where she was. She was comprehensively tucked into the warm embrace of Caleb’s arms. Their bodies touched from head to toe. His chest against her back, his long legs spooning hers effortlessly, one almost thrown over her thigh. And he was completely naked. She realized that with burning alarm.

Arms held her an easy captive, one hand spread over her breasts, which she could feel coming to life, becoming engorged with rushing blood, her nipples becoming hard, pushing against the warm skin of his hand. If he was to move, just even slightly, curl that hand…She swallowed. Torture. She tried to move but his arms were like steel bands and, when she made a bigger movement, they tightened.

A sleep-rough voice growled in her ear, ‘Going somewhere?’

She froze. Again.

‘Too late for that. I know you’re awake.’

And so was her body. Spectacularly. Betraying her with its eager response to his proximity.

The hand at her breast left and made lazy progress down to her belly, feeling the soft swell under the satin of her negligée, then back up. Maggie’s breath came quicker as his hand hovered over the full mounds, the lace of her top chafing unbearably, and then let out a ragged sigh and closed her eyes tightly as it cupped, moulded and caught one taut peak, thumb and forefinger pinching gently, making it even harder until it was like a knife-edge of sensation running all the way down her body to between her legs.

And then, while his hand was busy stimulating one erogenous zone, she became aware of how her negligée had ridden up. He was sliding a hair-roughened thigh between her legs, opening her up, nudging past her resistance, and then she could feel the blatant hardness of his arousal there, against her, only a mere breath away from being inside, where she longed for fulfilment. She moved her bottom against him. ‘Caleb…’

‘What…what is it?’ His breath was driving her insane. She wanted…she wanted…

‘What do you want? This?’

He moved upwards and she could feel the head of him nudge against her moistness. Her muscles quivered and contracted in anticipation. This was going so fast but, in the heady half sleep limbo land, it was all Maggie could do not to turn and give herself completely.

‘Yes…oh, yes.’ She bit her lip in an effort not to plead any more.

And then, in a moment so quick and brutal she didn’t know which way was up, Caleb was out of the bed and standing there with a towel slung around his waist, hiding the extent of his erection, though she could still feel the size of it, imagine the length of it. His face was stamped with the lines that told her how hard it had been for him to stop. Waves of censure reached out to envelop her.

Confusion showed on her face. Her voice breathless, she said, ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing, Maggie, that a signed contract won’t solve.’

He came down and rested on his hands over her, taking in her flushed face, dilated pupils, her still aroused body. ‘When we come together it’ll be like this, Maggie, so I can watch your face as you give yourself to me.’

So much for her grand announcements last night. Within moments she’d been ready to forget everything—her precious vulnerability swept aside by the burning ache that still pounded in her blood.

She shrank back against the pillows, more humiliated than she had been even that night in London. For at least that time she hadn’t tasted the total bliss he could evoke. They hadn’t gone so far that she couldn’t stop herself. But…he, she remembered uncomfortably, had been in a similar state to now. This time, however, he was the one calling a halt. Demonstrating her lack of control over him.

He was binding a silken thread around her, so tight that she knew she’d never be free of it. Even after he was finished with her. Pain made her lash out, her words clumsily inarticulate. ‘Wasn’t whoever’s bed you warmed last night not enough?’

He stopped in the act of straightening up from the bed, his body lithe and supple and heart-stoppingly beautiful. The thought of him with another woman was making her insides fizz with anger. Along with the ache that permeated every bone, betraying how much she wanted him.

He looked at her coldly. ‘I, unlike you, have a moral code. I don’t share myself around. Aren’t you lucky, Maggie?’ He gave a short, mirthless laugh. ‘I’m all yours. For now. And I won’t be made to wait again or, trust me, the agreement will be revoked and I will take a new mistress.’

A rush of elation surged through her—so he hadn’t slept with another woman. She was heedless to the incongruity of how happy that made her feel—despite the evidence of their shaky truce in tatters around them, despite the ache, the humiliation, Maggie was suddenly absurdly happy. He flicked her a dismissive glance before turning away. ‘We leave for Dublin in an hour.’