Читать книгу Wedding Party Collection: Once A Bridesmaid...: Here Comes the Bridesmaid / Falling for the Bridesmaid - Avril Tremayne, GINA WILKINS - Страница 12

SIX

Sunshine drew him backwards into the apartment. Kiss unbroken.

Leo slammed the door with his heel. Kiss unbroken.

Sex—just sex, Sunshine said to herself.

Leo pulled back as though she’d voiced the thought, looking at her with eyes smouldering like a hungry lion’s.

Sunshine grabbed his hand and dragged him to the bedroom. Kissed him again as she flipped the light switch and the fairy’s lair lights she’d had embedded in the ceiling winked to life.

He angled her so he could kiss her harder, harder. He started to shake—she could feel it—and he broke the kiss, his breathing ragged. He rested his cheek on the top of her head as he held her in his arms, his freight train heartbeat beneath her ear.

She heard him laugh softly and pulled back, watching as he took in the room.

It was pink. Every shade of pink from pale petal, to vibrant sari, to raspberry. The walls were the colour of cherry blossoms, stencilled in white in a riot of floral shapes and curlicues—like an extended henna tattoo. There was a chaise-longue, footstools, a window seat curtained off with diaphanous drapes. At one end of the room was a half-wall that divided the bedroom from the dressing room, with its orderly arrangement of garments, shoes, and bags, which in turn led through to her bathroom.

A scene was painted on the dividing wall: a woman donning a flowing deep rose robe. Sunshine had made it a 3D work of art, building an actual Louis XIV gilded dressing table and mirror into the scene.

There was a lot to look at.

Leo moved towards the bed, which was king-sized, shrouded by fuchsia hangings and piled high with cushions in macaroon pastels. He touched the gauzy curtains.

‘Seriously, Sunshine?’ he asked, a smile in his voice.

Sunshine arched an eyebrow. ‘If you want to get laid tonight, I suggest you keep a civil tongue in your head.’

‘That’s not where my tongue wants to be.’

Those words made her toes curl.

‘Come here, let me undress you, and we’ll find some place to put it,’ Leo said softly.

Sunshine walked over to him, her heart jumping.

His hands reached for the obi.

‘Wait,’ she said. ‘I need to warn you—I’m...scarred.’

He waited, hands at her waist.

‘The accident. I have a...a scar. Two, actually. Not...small.’ She hunched a shoulder, suddenly self-conscious. ‘I don’t want you to be shocked.’

His response was to slowly, slowly unwrap the obi from around her waist, then the under-sash. The kimono fell open and Leo sucked in an audible breath.

‘My God,’ he said, in a voice just above a raspy whisper.

‘I know—they’re awful.’

Leo’s fingers reached, traced along the incision marks. He shook his head. ‘The My God wasn’t about the scars, Sunshine.’

Sunshine was having trouble catching a thought, her breath. ‘Then...what?’

‘My God, you are so beautiful. And my God, I am itching to put my hands all over you.’

‘Then do it,’ she whispered. ‘I have no intention of stopping you.’

His fingers tensed against her flesh. And then, with both hands, he reached for her shoulders, sliding his hands under the kimono, pushing it back until the heavy fabric dropped with a quiet whoosh to the floor. He stood gazing at her.

Sunshine kept absolutely still, watching him as his nostrils flared, his hands fisted at his sides. It was both torture and delight to stand motionless as lust shimmered between them. Leo was still fully clothed, and that somehow made her feel more wanton, sexier. Her nipples were hardened points; she could feel them throbbing. Could feel a swelling between her legs as his gaze moved over her. Down, up, down. The suspense was almost unbearable. And yet she wanted the delay. Wanted to draw things out. Slow everything down so that she could wallow in this overwhelming need caused by nothing more than his eyes on her.

Then both his hands moved. With the tips of his trembling fingers he touched the centre of her forehead. Slowly his fingers moved to the bridge of her nose, across her eyebrows, down her cheeks to her mouth, her jaw, neck, collarbones. When he got to her breasts he paused at her nipples to circle and pinch. Her knees almost buckled. But inexorably his hands moved again, fingers sliding across the long, straight scar that ran over her ribs, down to her hips, across her belly, then to the juncture of her thighs.

He stopped there. Looked intently at her bare mound, licked his lips. ‘Very, very pretty,’ he said.

Both hands slid between her legs, fingers playing there while her breathing quickened.

‘I think we’ve found a place for my tongue,’ he said, suddenly finding that one excruciatingly sensitive nub, focusing there.

‘Are you going to take off your clothes?’ Sunshine asked breathily as his fingers continued to tease her.

‘Yes. But first...’

His fingers shifted, exploring her, dipping and sliding and slipping, but always returning to that one tiny place. Sunshine gasped again. Her legs were trembling as he continued to work her, pinching, stroking, rolling, lunging into her.

‘Ah, Leo— God!’ Sunshine cried out, and came suddenly, with a long groan.

Her head dropped back as his fingers continued to caress her, soothing now, and then one hand cupped her possessively, stilled.

Easing away from her, he started removing his clothes with short, efficient movements. The leather jacket was shrugged off and dropped to the floor. Sweater and then T-shirt were ripped over his head. Boots were yanked off. Jeans shoved down, kicked aside.

Good Lord. He was...divine. Not a steroid-pumped muscle in his whole body. Just perfectly defined, hard, lean lines of strength. Broad shoulders. Beautifully crafted biceps. Smooth, hairless, sculpted torso with that wonderful V leading to his groin. Narrow hips. Long legs. And the jut of him, big and hard, rising from that gorgeous dark blond nest, was mouth-watering. She wanted her mouth there. And her hands. And the inside of her.

‘Come here,’ he said. ‘I want to feel you all over me.’

Sunshine thought she might swoon, just hearing the words—except that she was desperate to take him up on that offer. She wanted to be all over him.

She walked into his open arms and they closed around her. The top of her head didn’t even reach his chin, and the feeling of being cocooned, surrounded by him, was glorious.

‘You feel good there.’

‘I feel very good,’ she said throatily, and he laughed. ‘And so do you,’ she added as his erection nudged her belly. ‘We can get that part of you a little closer, I think.’

‘No rush tonight,’ he said. ‘If we only have three assignations left I’m going to make them count. So...now I’d like to see you spread out on that Taj Mahal bed.’

He edged her backwards, reaching out to push the hangings aside, following her down onto the bed, kissing her as he lay on top of her.

For one fraught moment he slid between her thighs, held still, teasing both of them with the promise of the length of him as it pulsed there against her wet opening. He buried his face against her neck and sucked in a breath, another, one more.

‘God, it’s hard to wait,’ he groaned against her hair.

‘Then don’t,’ Sunshine said, shifting to try and get him to slip inside.

He withdrew. ‘I want to play with you for a while first. And this time we won’t forget the condom.’

With great concentration he arranged Sunshine on the bed against the cushions, raising her arms above her head so that her breasts were tightened and jutting, the chain she always wore caught between them.

He kissed her eyelids closed and then put his mouth at the corner of hers, his tongue flicking out to taste. She gasped, and his tongue slid smoothly inside her mouth, swirled once, then retreated to lick at the corner again. He kissed down her chin, her throat, then...nothing.

She opened her eyes to find him sitting back on his heels, looking at her. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.

‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘I just like looking at you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen skin as pale as yours. And these...’ His hands reached out, hovered over her breasts. ‘I’m almost scared to touch in case I come in three seconds.’

‘I want you to come.’

‘No—don’t move your arms,’ Leo ordered, and his hands settled on her breasts, squeezed gently, massaged. ‘God. God, God, God...’ he said, and it really did sound like a prayer.

He lowered his head and closed his lips over one nipple, sucked it sharply so that she moaned.

He stopped instantly. ‘Sorry—but you’re driving me crazy. Did I hurt you?’

‘No,’ she said, her legs moving restlessly. ‘I just want you so much. So much,’ she wailed as his mouth sucked hard again.

He commenced a steady rhythm, tugging, tonguing, pulling back to lick.

When he shifted to the other breast she couldn’t help herself—her arms came down to circle him, to pull him closer, closer.

‘Come inside me,’ she whispered. ‘Please, Leo.’

He shook his head and started moving lower. He stopped again as his mouth touched the scar. He pulled back to see it, then touched it gently with his fingers, running them over the length of it, then across the dissecting scar that ran perpendicular to it, across her ribs towards her back.

Sunshine held her breath, waiting for...what? She didn’t know. Didn’t want to believe that it mattered, what he thought of her imperfections. All that mattered—all that could matter—was the promise of the orgasm flickering low in her belly.

And yet she didn’t release her breath until he moved again, kissing his way to her mound. He stopped again. Shuddered out a breath against her. Then he was kissing her there, over and over again.

‘Beautiful. Delicious,’ he murmured in between licking kisses, his tongue dipping just low enough to make her squirm. ‘Open wider for me.’

She shifted her legs, hips rising off the bed, soundlessly urging him to shift, to slide that clever mouth right between her spread legs. When, finally, he did, using the very tip of his tongue to separate the lips of her sex, breathing deeply as he slid the flat of his tongue along the seam, she screamed his name and climaxed almost violently.

He kept his mouth there, his tongue on that fizzing knot of nerves, until the waves receded.

And then, with a groan, he slid back up her body and thrust inside her. ‘Ah, thank you, God,’ he groaned, and any semblance of control snapped.

He pounded into her, teeth gritted, gripping her hips as though his life depended on leveraging himself off them so he could go harder, deeper.

Sunshine could feel his orgasm building and tightened her inner muscles, holding, wanting... ‘Come, come,’ she said, and then the explosion ripped through him.

Long moments later he rolled onto his back, bringing Sunshine with him so that she was lying on top, her thighs falling either side of him. ‘Forgot the condom again,’ he said.

Sunshine frowned. ‘I’ve never forgotten before.’

‘Do we need to talk about it?’

‘Only if you have a disease.’

‘Then we don’t need to talk.’ He secured her more tightly against his chest. One hand was in her hair, smoothing through the strands.

Silence. Minutes dragged on.

Then, ‘The Heimlich thing... Why?’ he asked.

She shrugged, self-conscious. ‘I saw a story on the internet about a woman who choked to death. If someone had known what to do she wouldn’t have died. So I...I learned. Just in case. Typical that the first time I had to use it was on Natalie’s boyfriend!’

‘He’s not her boyfriend. He’s her bitch.’

‘Ouch.’

‘I wish I could say that was me being malicious, but it’s just the truth.’

‘I certainly don’t understand what you saw in her.’

‘Me neither. I guess we get what we deserve.’

She looked up at him, perplexed. ‘Why would you think you deserved her? Deserved...that?’

Leo shook his head, shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. ‘Just history. Perpetuating the crappiness of my life. Because she wasn’t my first mistake—just the most persistent.’

Mistake. Something about the word made Sunshine shiver. Mistake...

‘You’re cold,’ Leo said. ‘And I have a brilliant idea—let’s actually get in the bed.’

Sunshine latched onto being cold as a viable excuse for the sudden chill prickling along her skin. She slid under the covers, busied herself positioning cushions so that she was propped up against the bedhead, half turned to him.

She toyed with her chain, rubbing the sun and moon charms between her fingers.

‘Sun and moon,’ Leo said, watching her. ‘For Sunshine and Moonbeam?’

‘Yes. The business is called Sun & Moon too. Not sure what we were going to do when we changed our names.’

‘You were going to change your names? Don’t tell me: Sue and Jenny?’

‘Do I look like a Sue?’

‘Actually, you look like a Sunshine.’

‘Harsh! Well, Moonbeam was definitely not a Jenny! She was going to be Amaya—it means Night Rain. She figured it was a close enough association with the night, if not with the moon specifically.’

‘Nice. And yours?’

‘Allyn. Do I look like an Allyn?’

‘I told you—you look like a Sunshine.’

‘Oh, dear. Daunting. Well, Moon said Allyn meant Bright and Shining One. Close enough to sunshine, in her opinion. And she said it suited me.’ She frowned, thinking. ‘I’ve thought a lot over the past two years about making the change. Wondered if doing the thing we planned to do together on my own would help me accept...move on. My parents aren’t so sure.’

‘Tell me about them,’ Leo said.

‘My parents? Oh, they’re very zen! Quite mad. And completely wonderful. Always there. Supportive, but never smothering. They let Moon and me leave the commune when we were fifteen, so we could see a different way and make informed decisions about how we wanted to live. They made sure we had a safe place to stay, a good school to go to, money for whatever we needed, while we worked it out. And they seemed to understand even before we did that Moon was the true hippie and I was...well, something in between a hippie and an urbanite. Moon would have raced straight back to the commune if not for me being anchored in the city.’ She smiled, remembering. ‘We started our business with money our father inherited but didn’t need. It was given to us simply, with love, on our eighteenth birthday.’

‘Lucky.’

‘Yes. But it’s not all sparkles and roses, you know. There’s the haiku to deal with!’

‘Ah, the haiku. What is it?’

‘You’ll find out—that poem is coming.’

‘Can’t wait.’

‘You have no idea!’

‘But...they were okay with you girls changing your names?’

‘They weren’t insulted, if that’s what you mean. They were fine with it if we wanted to do it.’ She bit her lip. ‘But Dad had a sidebar conversation with me because he thought Moonbeam was browbeating me.’

‘And was she?’

‘Not browbeating—nothing that brutish. She was...persuading!’ Sunshine said, and smiled, remembering. ‘But I was happy enough to be persuaded if she wanted it that badly. And I owed her, for staying.’

Sunshine closed her eyes, picturing her sister.

‘Tell me more about Moonbeam,’ Leo said.

Opening her eyes on a sigh, Sunshine adjusted her position in the bed. ‘Well, you know what she looked like—me! But slimmer. And with the most beautiful green eyes—both of them. Other than looks, though, we were completely different. I was the carnivore; she was vegetarian. I was...well, as you see me. Friendly, touchy-feely, chirpy.’

‘And...?’

Sunshine fiddled with her necklace. ‘Moon was...intriguing. I was Mary Poppins; she was Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. When the kids made fun of my devil eyes I would laugh it off, but she would go all superhero.’ She laughed suddenly. ‘Is there a hippie superhero? What a wonderful idea. I’m going to do a web search on that.’

‘So she was your protector?’

‘Oh, yes. And my cheer squad. And my...everything. She was smart, and had an amazing flair for numbers, so although the business was my idea she was the CEO. And she didn’t even want to be in the city!’

Sunshine adjusted the quilt. Fussed with a cushion.

‘She said that left me to concentrate on the creative stuff because she was not into fashion like I was. She would wear a suit for business if I chose it for her; otherwise she would drag on whatever clothes and shoes came to hand. I, on the other hand, was obsessed with colour and shape and style.’ She shrugged, a little sheepish. ‘And I really love shoes!’

‘Funny, I hadn’t noticed that.’

She hit him with the cushion. ‘Don’t make me take you behind that wall and show you my shoe collection. I haven’t known a man yet who could cope with the sight.’

‘Are you really going there? Talking about the men you’ve had in here? I’ll go there if you want, Sunshine, but I don’t think you’ll like it.’

She opened her eyes at him. ‘Oh, that sounds very alpha male.’

He didn’t smile. ‘You’ll see alpha, beta, gamma, and zeta male if you go near another man, Sunshine.’

‘Oh, alpha, beta, and zeta?’

‘Alpha-beta-gamma-zeta. And don’t roll your eyes.’

‘Sorry.’

‘I said don’t roll your eyes.’

‘All right!’ Sunshine said, laughing.

‘So, I think,’ Leo said quietly, after a long moment, ‘we’re up to the bike, aren’t we?’

Sunshine nodded, sat a little straighter. ‘The bike,’ she said. She pulled a different cushion onto her lap and started playing with the fringe. ‘She bought it because she liked the wind in her face and the freedom of riding. It was too big for her, but she wouldn’t be told.’

She stopped there.

‘And...?’ he prompted.

Sunshine reached for the charms. ‘We were at a party. Her boyfriend du jour—Jeff—mixed us up and tried to kiss me. Moonbeam went into melodrama mode and stormed off, dragging me with her.’

‘Was she angry with you?’

‘God, no! She knew I would never poach. And truthfully...? She wasn’t even angry with Jeff. She was just restless. Bored with being in the city. And tired of Jeff. So what he did gave her an excuse to dump him. She thought...she thought he’d done it accidentally-on-purpose because he actually preferred me. We were dressed so differently, you see, it couldn’t have been a mix-up.’

‘Did that happen often? A boyfriend switching sides?’

‘No. Never before.’

‘And so...?’

‘And so we clambered onto the bike.’ She shivered. ‘She was wild that night, riding too fast. She took a turn badly, and...well. Moonbeam died instantly. Her neck snapped at the base of the helmet.’ She swallowed. ‘I got carted off to hospital, where I went through twenty-eight pints of blood.’ She moved restlessly. ‘Internal bleeding. They had to take my spleen—which apparently you don’t really need, so go figure! And they took half my liver, which was haemorrhaging. Actually, did you know that the liver regenerates? Which means the chunk of my liver they cut out has probably grown back. Amazing!’

‘I’m sorry, Sunshine,’ Leo said.

She rearranged herself in the bed again—flustery, unnecessary activity. ‘Which brings us to the important part of this discussion. Getting rid of your motorbike.’

Leo said nothing.

‘Leo? You understand, don’t you?’

He nodded slowly. ‘I understand why you hate motorbikes—because you blame yourself for the accident. You feel guilty because you couldn’t talk your sister out of that bike. Because she stayed in the city only for you, where she was an unhappy fish out of water. Because of what her boyfriend did. The way all those things led to both of you being on the bike at that precise moment at that speed. Because she died and you didn’t. And you’re here and she’s not.’

Sunshine brushed away a tear. ‘That’s about the sum of it. I just miss her so much. And I’d do anything to have her back.’ She looked at him. ‘But you can’t bring someone back from the dead. So please get rid of it, Leo. Please?’

‘You don’t understand what that bike means to me.’ He grimaced. ‘My parents...they were druggies, and they didn’t give a damn. Your parents made sure you had support. I was my own support—and Caleb’s. Your parents made sure you had money, but when I was still a child I had to steal it, beg it, or make it—and I did all three! There was never food on the table unless I put it there. So I haunted restaurants around the city, pleading for leftovers. Eventually one of the chefs took pity on me and I got a job in a kitchen, and...’ Shrug. ‘Here I am.’

Sunshine touched his hand.

He looked at where her hand was, on his, with an odd expression on his face. And then he drew his hand away.

‘I’m not telling you all that to get sympathy, just to explain,’ he said. ‘And it could have been a lot worse. We weren’t sexually abused. Or beaten—well, not Caleb. And me not often, or more than I could take. Mainly we were just not important. Like a giant mistake that you can’t fix so you try to forget it. I grew up fast and hard—I had to. The upshot is that I don’t do frivolity. I’m not sociable unless there’s something in it for me. I don’t stop to smell the roses and hug the trees. I just push on, without indulging myself. Except for my bike.’

‘I see,’ Sunshine said. And she did. It was so very simple. Leo had his bike the way she had Moon’s ashes. Something that connected you to what you’d lost—what you couldn’t have: in her case her sister; in his a carefree youth.

She swallowed around a sudden lump. ‘We’re not going to find common ground on this, are we? Because you deserve one piece of youthful folly and I can’t bear what that piece happens to be.’

She got out of bed, grabbed her kimono off the floor, quickly pulled it on, and turned to face him. ‘This means, of course, that we’ll have to call it quits at two.’

‘At two...what? O’clock?’

‘Two times—as in not four. As in assignations.’

‘Why?’

Why? She had a sudden memory of that electri-fried bat. ‘Because the thought of you on that bike already upsets me too much. That’s going to get harder, not easier, to cope with if we keep doing...this.’

‘This?’

‘Sex,’ she said impatiently. ‘It’s my fault for starting it, and I’ll cop to that. I threw myself at you when you didn’t want to go there. The blame is squarely here, with me.’

‘If we’re talking blame, I threw myself at you tonight.’

Sunshine dragged the edges of the kimono closed and started looking around for her sash. ‘Well, let’s unthrow ourselves.’

‘Come back to bed, Sunshine, and we’ll talk about it.’

‘Bed is the wrong place to talk.’

‘Four assignations was what we agreed on,’ Leo said.

‘Up to! They’re the salient words. Up to four. I’ve never got to four before. I’ve never got past two! And you can see why. It gets too emotional.’

Leo shoved the quilt aside, got out of bed. ‘I’ll do you a deal on the motorbike,’ he offered, and started tugging on his clothes.

‘What kind of deal?’

Wary. Very wary.

‘I’ll get rid of the bike the day after our fourth assignation. Or when you change your name to Allyn. Whichever comes first.’

She licked her lips nervously. ‘That’s an odd deal.’

‘Is it? I’m offering to give up a piece of a past I never really had—the bike. In return, you give up something you can’t accept is past its use-by date—your sister’s two-year hold over you.’

‘She doesn’t have a hold over me.’

‘If she didn’t have a hold over you the four times thing wouldn’t exist. So—my bike for going where no man has gone before and risking the magic number four.’

‘No.’

‘Then take the alternative option and change your name. You said it might be a way of moving on, so do it. Move on, Sunshine, one way or the other.’

‘I...I don’t know,’ she said, agonised.

‘Take some time and think about it,’ he said. ‘But not too long. Because—in case you haven’t quite figured me out yet—I don’t wait for what I want. I just go out and get it. Even if I have to steal it.’

‘You don’t really want me.’

‘I’m like an immortal lobster—who really knows? Let’s get to number four and see.’

‘Well, you can’t steal me.’

‘Don’t bet on it, sweetheart. I’ve spent my life getting my own way. And I can take things from you that you never knew you had.’

She located her obi and whipped it up off the floor. ‘That’s not even worth a response.’

Leo just smiled and started pulling on his boots.

She tried, twice, to tie the sash, but her fingers were clumsy.

And Leo’s hands were suddenly there—capable, efficient, tying it easily.

‘Thank you,’ she said stiffly when he had finished, and flicked her hair over her shoulders. ‘I’ll see you out.’

She walked Leo to the apartment door. ‘So!’ she said. ‘I’ll email you about...about the clothes for the wedding and a few other things. And then... Well...’

‘And then...well...?’ Leo repeated, looking a little too wolfish and a lot too jaunty for a man who was waiting for an answer about sex that could, should—no, would!—go against him. And then he leant down and kissed her quickly on the mouth.

She jumped back as though he’d scalded her.

‘It’s just a stolen kiss, Sunshine,’ he murmured. ‘Think of the calories.’

* * *

Sunshine stared into the darkness long after returning to bed.

Leo would give up his motorbike.

Into her head popped an image of Moonbeam—laughing as they left the party that night. Giving a wild shout as she started the bike. Zooming off with Sunshine on the back, gripping her tightly.

And then darkness. And that feeling. Waking up in hospital and knowing, without needing to be told, that Moonbeam was gone. She never wanted to experience that desolating ache again.

Leo didn’t understand what it would do to her if something happened to him. And that said it all, didn’t it? She’d only known him for one week, and already she was terrified that something would happen to him.

What a conundrum. She could get him to give up his bike if she slept with him twice more. But if she slept with him twice more she would be getting dangerously close to him. And she couldn’t risk that.

Or...

She could get him to give up his bike if she changed her name. And she just wasn’t sure what that would mean. Maybe it would help her accept Moon’s death. But maybe it would be a betrayal—taking a twins’ decision and making it a solo decision. Moving on when Moon couldn’t.

And did anything matter more than keeping Leo safe?

Sunshine threw off the covers—what a restless night this was turning out to be!—and yanked on her kimono, leaving it fluttering as she raced from the room and into her office.

There, on the high-gloss blue bureau, was her sister. Her sister, who had wanted her ashes to be scattered at a beach under a full moon.

Instead here she was. Beautifully housed in a stunning antique cloisonné urn featuring all the colours of the rainbow.

But an urn—no matter how beautiful—wasn’t the ocean.

And the ocean was where Moonbeam belonged.

* * *

Leo stared into the darkness, thinking about the simple pleasure of touch.

It didn’t take a psychologist to work out what his issue was—the fact that his parents had never touched him the way other parents touched their children. Because there had been more important things to do than give their son the affection he craved. Like shoot up. Suck in the crack. Snort up the meth.

It had been different for Caleb, because Leo had made it so. Leo had looked after Caleb, put his needs first, fought his battles, protected him. And so Caleb wasn’t reserved, wary, driven, and damaged—like Leo. Caleb attracted affection and gentleness and love. Leo attracted people like Natalie, for whom his remoteness was a challenge and his celebrity something to use.

‘You’re choosing wrong,’ Sunshine had said—but what if he was choosing right and he was getting exactly what he deserved?

It wasn’t as if he could choose Sunshine Smart as an alternative. She didn’t want to be chosen by anyone.

So why he was offering to give up his motorbike for her was a mystery.

So what if he never had sex with her again?

So what if she went on grieving for her sister for the rest of the life?

Leo punched his pillow. Forced his eyes closed.

And there she was, warning him about her scars. So beautiful. And damaged, like him. But wanting to stay damaged—unlike him.

His eyes popped open and he punched the pillow again.

God, but she irked him.

Her perkiness irked him. Partly because he wanted to think that it made her shallow...and yet she’d learned the Heimlich manoeuvre and wasn’t afraid to use it.

The way she chucked crazy facts into her arguments—about the sexual habits of praying mantises, the questionable immortality of lobsters, regenerating livers, and so on and on and on—irked him. Because most of the time that stuff was fascinating. And even if it wasn’t, it was fascinating to watch those unique eyes glow with the wonder of it.

Her boring living room irked him, because it shouldn’t be like that. Not that her décor was any of his business. And the fact that he could be bothered to think of her apartment irking him irked him too.

Her pink bedroom irked him. All right, it didn’t—because it was kind of amazing. But it should irk him, and the fact that it didn’t irk him irked him.

Her propensity to kiss and touch and pet him irked him. And it had irked him even more when she hadn’t kissed him hello at the restaurant.

Her four-times maximum irked him. And the fact that he’d refused to accept that they were stopping at two irked him.

Two times. Two. Not three, not four—two! Her terms. Everything on her terms, right from the moment she’d ambushed him on the couch.

Well, he’d picked her as a wily little dictator from Day One. But she was not going to dictate to Leo Quartermaine. He would have her as many damned times as he wanted to have her.

He punched his pillow again. Hard.