Читать книгу In Bed With...Collection - Emma Darcy, Emma Darcy - Страница 27

SHE stood rigidly beside him. Bryce willed the elevator to go faster. He knew she had expected a public restaurant, not this, but he had to get her alone with him. Close the net. His mind worked double-time, producing a string of soothing words, ready to answer any protest she might make about the situation he’d set up.

He saw her hand clench. She took a deep breath. Her face turned to him, her stunning amber eyes swimming with questions. Her mouth moved, tremulous words slipping out. ‘I don’t think…’

‘Don’t think!’

The growled command came from nowhere. Before any sophisticated reasoning could stem the urge that exploded through him, Bryce scooped Sunny York into his embrace and kissed her with such devouring intensity, there was no possibility of any more words being uttered by either of them.

He was so hungry for her—for all that she was—the raging desire coursing through him directed all movement. The elevator stopped. The doors slid open. He swung his woman off her feet, hooking her legs over his arm, and it felt absolutely right as he carried her to his suite because her hands were linked around his neck and her breasts were pressed to his chest, and she was kissing him back as wildly as he was kissing her.

The slot-card in his hand opened the door. He kicked it shut. No bed in sight. The suite was a two-storey apartment. Catching sight of the staircase he charged up to the intimate rooms on the next level and straight into the bedroom. Seduction did not enter his head. There was no finesse at all in the need that had him put Sunny on her feet so he could get her clothes off. And his own.

He couldn’t wait to have her naked with him, to feel every luscious curve of her, skin to skin, her lovely long legs in intimate entanglement around him. It excited him even more that she was as eager as he was to be rid of all barriers, her hands just as frantically busy with undressing, wanting to feel him and know everything there was to know.

Her eyes were a blaze of gold, burning him up. Her mouth was sensationally passionate in its hunger for his. Her hands were wildly erotic in their touch. Her glorious hair was pure sensual pleasure, its scent, its silky mass, its flashing colours. And fully naked, she was stunningly perfect, her whole body so lushly female, soft and supple, calling on him to perform as a man, and he was so ready to, the drive to take and possess was overwhelmingly immediate.

He laid her on the bed, kneeling over her for a moment, savouring the sight of her—all her sizzling warmth lying open to him, every inhibition abandoned in the sheer craving for this mating with him. Her arms lifted, winding around his neck, pulling him down, wanting him as much as he wanted her.

No foreplay. It wasn’t needed by either of them. They were both poised for a completion that had to come. He drove forward, sheathing himself in her moist heat, revelling in her ecstatic welcome, loving the sense of being deep inside her. And her legs wrapped around him, holding him in, exulting in the sensation of feeling him there, then urging him to repeat the action, to move into the rhythm that would take them both on the upward climb to where they had to be…together.

It was an incredible feeling—this compulsive copulation with her—his intense arousal, the sense of being so aggressively male, primitively needful of having this woman. Somehow she embodied everything he had to have, and it drove him into a frenzy of possession.

The amazing, the wonderful, the totally exhilarating thing was, she was just as frenzied as he was in wanting what he was giving her, and when he could no longer stop himself from climaxing, she was right there with him, joining him in a fantastic meltdown that seemed to fuse them as one.

For a few moments he spread his body over hers, wanting to feel the whole imprint of her femininity as he kissed her again, sealing their oneness—all of him, all of her, together, as deeply and totally as they could be. The satisfaction of it was euphoric. He wished he could stay where he was, but it wasn’t fair to subject her to his weight for long.

He rolled onto his side, scooping her with him to lie in the cradle of his arm, holding her snuggled close to him. He was swamped by a sense of tenderness for her, this woman who made him feel as a man should feel, wanted for what he was, not who he was…an instinctive, compulsive wanting.

His hands moved over her, gently caressing, loving the soft texture of her skin, soothing the endearing little tremors his stroking aroused. His fingers threaded through her hair, enjoying the winding spring of curls around them. The urge to bind her to him was so strong, he didn’t even pause to wonder what she was thinking—or feeling—about what had happened between them. The words simply spilled straight out.

‘Marry me!’

He didn’t even realise he spoke in a command. Her head was resting just under his chin. He felt it jerk slightly, a startled little movement.

‘What…’ The question was choked with disbelief. He heard her sharply indrawn breath, then, ‘…what did you say?’

Bryce was not about to back off from having the advantage of their intimacy to press his suit. He rolled Sunny onto her back and propped himself up on his elbow beside her, meeting her stunned gaze with an intensity of purpose that was not to be shaken. He lightly traced the line of her full-lipped mouth with his finger as he delivered a clear and firm statement.

‘I want you to marry me, Sunny York.’

Sunny could scarcely believe her ears. But he’d said it twice and his eyes were serious. Her sensitised lips were tingling and she couldn’t get her mind thinking in any order at all. It didn’t help when he lowered his head and grazed his mouth over hers, his tongue sliding seductively across the soft inner tissue, and the hand that had caressed her lips, moved down to cup her breast, gently kneading it as his thumb fanned her nipple with tantalising tenderness.

He knew how to do it right. Sunny’s mind completely glazed over again, mesmerised by the rightness that had swamped it from the moment she had been seized by lustful madness in the elevator. He kissed her more deeply, re-igniting all the exciting sensations of previous kisses.

‘I want you to be my wife,’ he murmured against her lips, his breath still mingling with hers.

His wife.

Then he was trailing kisses down her throat, to the breast he hadn’t touched yet, covering it with the hot excitement of his mouth, sucking it erotically, pumping pleasure through her in delicious spasms, building a craving for more and more.

‘I want you to have my child,’ he said, moving to her other breast, sliding his hand down to caress her stomach in circular sweeps, as his mouth played sweet havoc and her mind flashed images of…

His child.

His child in her womb, his child at her breast…the baby she’d love to have…with this man as the father…the man she’d secretly thought would be the best father.

And now he was kissing her stomach, as though he was imagining his baby in there, and his hand was between her thighs, stroking them apart, making room for him to come to her again, exciting the need to have him there. Such intense sensations of pleasure, demanding the fulfilment only he could bring, but when he moved again, it was to drive the need higher, his mouth closing over her sex, setting her on fire with the exquisite brushing of his tongue, the desire for him quickly reaching exploding point.

She heard herself cry out for him, begging, pleading, desperate for him to answer the ache inside her, and he responded immediately, filling her with a glorious rush of satisfaction as he plunged himself deeply into the quivering place that yearned for him.

It felt so good, so right, and she revelled in every stroke of him inside her, loving the hard fullness that kept pushing the pleasure of his possession higher and higher until she felt herself shattering around him, moving into a sea of bliss, and he rocked her there, bringing wave after wave of beautiful feelings that spread through her entire body. The spasms of euphoria kept coming even after he had climaxed and they were simply lying together, luxuriating in the intimate peace of needs fulfilled.

Feather-light fingers stroked the curve of her spine. His cheek rubbed over her hair. She felt his warm breath fan her temples as he spoke, gruffly demanding a reply from her. ‘Say you’ll marry me, Sunny.’

Marry him.

It was a huge step to take. Her still-floating mind struggled with the enormity of it, hardly believing it was real. It was still difficult to believe all she’d done with him was real. But here she was, lying naked on a bed with him, having been brought alive sexually to a fantastic extreme she had never imagined possible. Nevertheless, this…this hasty plunge into intimacy, did not warrant a hasty plunge into marriage!

‘Bryce…’

She hadn’t even called him by his first name before! The unfamiliarity of that alone had her hauling herself up to look at him, face to face…this man who seemed intent on marrying her…Bryce Templar, the CEO of Templar Resources, whom she had thought so far removed from her normal life, the idea of a marriage between them had been inconceivable.

His green eyes were simmering with pleasure in her. A sensual little smile curved his lips. ‘You’re even more beautiful with your hair all tousled,’ he murmured.

He thought her beautiful? Her hair was probably a tangled mop with all the threshing around she’d done in the heat of passion. And that memory brought a flush to her face.

‘We’ve barely met,’ she rushed out, embarrassed by her terribly wanton behaviour.

‘So?’ He stroked her hot cheek, his eyes smiling reassurance. ‘What has time got to do with anything? When something is right, it’s right.’

The conviction in his voice eased her troubled sense of having acted out of character. This was different—what anybody could excuse as extraordinary circumstances.

‘You might not feel it’s so right tomorrow,’ she said cautiously, still finding his proposal too stunning to really accept it could be genuine.

‘Sunny, you said you wanted a partner. So do I, and everything about you feels right to me.’ His eyes flashed absolute conviction as he added, ‘And I don’t believe you’re the kind of woman who’d go to bed with a man you didn’t feel right with.’

That was true. She’d never been promiscuous, and one-night stands were definitely not her scene. It was a relief to hear him reading her correctly. Although she’d never been hit by such overwhelming lust before. But lust wasn’t love, more an instinctive thing running right out of control. She couldn’t believe getting married should be based on instinct. There were many more factors involved in making a partnership work well.

‘We’re even in the same business,’ he went on. ‘All the more to share with each other, understanding what’s involved in our lives.’

She’d thought she had that with Derek. It should be a plus in a relationship. But then she’d believed a lot of things about Derek—for months!—and only found out differently this past week. What seemed right could turn out very wrong indeed.

‘And I want a child,’ Bryce Templar pressed. ‘A child who is wanted just as much by its mother. That’s you, Sunny, isn’t it? You want to be a mother.’

She couldn’t deny it.

‘We’re not getting any younger,’ he pointed out. ‘How old are you?’

No harm in answering that question. ‘Twenty-nine.’

‘I’m thirty-four and I don’t want to be an old father. The sooner we make a baby, the better.’ He cocked a quizzical eyebrow. ‘Any chance we might have already made one?’

It shocked her that protection had not entered either of their heads. Unsafe sex… ‘I hope you’re not a health risk,’ she shot at him.

He laughed. ‘No, I’m clean. And I have no doubt you are, too, Sunny York.’

She sighed her relief. ‘Well, at least I’m on the pill.’

‘Why not throw the pills away?’ His eyes twinkled wickedly. ‘We can try again. All night…’

Just like that? Plunge into pregnancy with him as the father? Her fantasy answered? Yet fantasies were one thing, realities quite another. People didn’t make life commitments, virtually on the spur of the moment. She frowned at him, thinking that stopping contraception would be a very reckless decision, especially when she was feeling all at sea about what had already happened with him, let alone what he had in mind now.

‘Do you really want that, Bryce?’ she queried, uneasy with the way he seemed to be rushing decisions that shouldn’t be hurried. It still sounded strange, using his first name, yet she could hardly call him Mr. Templar in this situation.

‘Oh, yes,’ he said decisively, a gleam of determination in his eyes. ‘I wouldn’t play you false about such serious things, Sunny. You’re the woman I want as my wife, in every sense. Give me my way and we’ll be married tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow!’ She shook her head dazedly.

‘Easily done in Las Vegas and I see no point in wasting time.’

‘I’m on a flight home to Sydney in the morning.’

‘You don’t have to be on it. And I certainly don’t want you on it. In fact…’ He reached for the telephone on the bedside table. ‘…I’ll make arrangements for your luggage to be packed and brought here.’

‘Bryce!’ she cried, grabbing his arm, totally rattled by how fast he was moving.

He shot her a piercing look. ‘Do you want to go back to that hotel, Sunny?’

And break up what was happening here?

Run into Derek?

‘No.’ She withdrew her hand, fluttering a helpless gesture. ‘It’s just…’

‘Leave it to me. I’ll fix everything.’ He grinned at her. ‘How about running us a bath while I make the calls? I’ll notify the Sydney manager that you’re staying on and I’ll get the hotel staff to pack everything for you and get it delivered here. Okay?’

Sunny took a deep breath.

It felt as though Bryce Templar was taking her on a wild roller-coaster ride and it was scary to think of where it would lead next, yet to get off…without knowing more…and the grin on his face made him so attractive, inviting her into his private and personal world, delighted to have her with him.

Besides, getting on the plane with Derek in the morning was not a happy prospect, seated next to him on the flight to L.A., then the long haul to Sydney. Arguments, stress, wondering what might have been if she’d stayed…

‘Okay,’ she echoed, the word torn out of her need to escape a miserable return to Sydney, as well as the strong temptation to stay right where she was with Bryce Templar, at least long enough to see what the end of the ride might be like. ‘But what about my ticket home if…’

‘Do you imagine I wouldn’t make good on that for you, should you want to go?’ he cut in quietly.

Her heart cringed at her unwitting impugning of his integrity. ‘I’m sorry. This is all so fast…’

‘I promise I’ll look after you. Whatever you need. Whatever you want. All you have to do is tell me, Sunny.’

She took another deep breath to steady her whirling mind. ‘Okay. I’ll stay on…for a while.’

His grin sparkled with triumph this time, putting a host of butterflies in her stomach. She had the wild sense that Bryce Templar had carried her into his cave and was now busily shutting off all exits until he had his way with her. Which clearly meant she needed some space to calm herself down and start thinking rationally about her immediate future with him.

‘I’ll go find the bathroom,’ she said, remembering his suggestion of running a bath…for both of them!

‘You do that,’ he approved heartily, reaching for the telephone again. ‘This won’t take long.’

She slid off the bed, and very conscious of her naked state with his eyes watching her, headed straight for the most likely door to an adjoining bathroom. It proved to be precisely that and she shut it behind her to ensure at least a few moments’ privacy.

As caves went, this was certainly a sumptuous one, Sunny couldn’t help thinking as she noted the Italian marble accents, the positively decadent Roman tub, even a television set to watch while bathing. Life with Bryce Templar could be very seductive with such luxuries. All the same, she was not going to be rushed into any rash decisions. The old saying—marry in haste, repent at leisure—was a good warning.

On the other hand, she might as well enjoy what was here. Having turned on the taps to fill the bath, she sprinkled in some scented grainy salts from a very elegant jar, then added a blue syrupy mixture that instantly frothed into bubbles. Satisfied that she wouldn’t feel quite so naked with a mass of foam to hide behind, Sunny moved around the other facilities.

Beside the toilet was a European bidet—very civilised sophistication—and in a drawer of the vanity table she found a packet of hairpins which she proceeded to use, hoping not to get her hair wet in the bath. Tousled might look beautiful to Bryce but wet was definitely not her best look.

For a few moments she stared at her own face in the mirror. What did Bryce Templar see in her that he hadn’t seen in the many many women who must have traipsed through his life? Why should he suddenly decide she was the one to marry?

She was passably attractive. Her eyes were probably her best feature. Her nose had that irritating tilt that always got sunburnt if she wasn’t careful and her mouth was too wide. The hair he admired was the bane of her life. And she’d hated her legs in her teens, so long and gangly, though they did have more shape to them now she was older and her figure more mature.

Shaking her head, the puzzle of Bryce Templar’s choice still unresolved in her mind, Sunny stepped over to the bath, which was now well filled. She turned off the taps and lowered herself gingerly into its warm foamy depths. A sigh of sheer pleasure relaxed the tension raised by too many uncertainties. Sinful pleasures, she thought, wondering if she would end up rueing her decision to stay.

A knock on the door preceded its being pushed slightly open. ‘May I come in?’ was courteously asked.

‘Yes,’ she answered, her heart jiggling nervously at the thought of sharing this bath with him. But since she’d already shared far more, it was way too late to start feeling shy.

The door swung wide open and Sunny’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of him coming towards her. He had been naked on the bed, but she hadn’t really seen him like this. They’d been too wrapped up in other things. His physique was stunningly male, magnificently proportioned and power-packed with just the right amount of masculine muscle.

He looked…fantastic.

And she could have him as her husband!

But there was more to marriage than the physical, Sunny hastily berated herself. This terribly strong desire he inspired was probably the most sinful pleasure of all.

‘Brought the menus with me for us to choose dinner from,’ he said with a smile, waving the large folders he held in his hand. ‘I’m hoping your appetite will match mine. I think we should order a feast to celebrate our coming together.’

Dinner! She’d forgotten all about it.

‘Yes. That would be good,’ she agreed, trying to get her mind focused on an appetite for food instead of the very distracting appetite for him.

He laid one folder on the floor beside her, fetched a towel for her to dry her hands, then lowered himself into the bath, facing her from the other end. ‘Your luggage should be here within the hour and I’ve let the Sydney people know you won’t be on tomorrow’s flight with them,’ he tossed at her as he opened his menu to peruse its contents.

She wondered what reaction that announcement from Bryce Templar had caused amongst her colleagues. Had Derek been told? Her stomach suddenly clenched. What would Derek think? What would he do?

I don’t care, she told herself on a surge of violent anger for the uncaring way he had treated her. She grabbed the towel, dried her hands, picked up the menu and opened it, determined on ordering a veritable feast.

The die was well and truly cast now.

One way or another, she’d thrown in her lot with Bryce Templar.

Dinner for two!