Читать книгу Forbidden Seductions - India Grey - Страница 15

DOMINIC lounged in his chrome and white leather chair, one arm hooked over its back, and wished the glass he was holding contained whisky.

Wine was all very well, and his grandfather was something of a connoisseur. But Dominic needed something stronger. Something to stop his eyes from straying in Cleo’s direction every chance they had.

He’d tried to concentrate on his surroundings. They were having lunch on the sundeck of the company’s yacht, shaded from too much brilliance by a huge canopy, and it was certainly a spectacular setting.

The little town of San Clemente climbed the hill behind the marina, colour-washed walls and red-tiled roofs providing a stunning backdrop to the blue, blue water.

A breeze blew up off the water, rattling the ties of the other yachts moored in the adjoining slips. It lifted the fringe of the canopy; caused a silky coil of Cleo’s hair to curl about her shoulder.

Dammit!

The trouble was, she looked so bloody attractive. She was wearing an off-the-shoulder top of some bronze-coloured fabric that hugged her breasts and outlined her hips. Knee-length shorts exposed bare calves and narrow ankles. She wore a gold chain round her ankle, drawn to his attention by provocative four-inch heels.

There were huge gold rings in her ears, too, that brushed her bare shoulders every time she moved her head. Her hair was drawn loosely back from her face and tied at her nape with a chiffon scarf. But that didn’t stop errant strands escaping and causing him no end of grief.

He swallowed the remainder of the wine in his glass and reached for the bottle of Merlot as his grandfather spoke.

‘Isn’t this nice?’ the old man said, including both of them in his sharp appraisal. ‘My two grandchildren and myself, having lunch together. What could be nicer, eh, Dom?’

‘Indeed,’ Dominic said drily, refilling his wine glass with a surprisingly steady hand. Considering the rest of his body was taut with frustration, he thought he managed it very well. ‘What could be nicer?’

Cleo cast a wary look in his direction. She had few doubts that Dominic wasn’t enjoying the meal. From the moment they’d arrived at the Montoya Corporation’s offices, she’d sensed his resistance to the outing. If there’d been any way he could have got out of joining them without offending his grandfather, she was sure he would have done so.

But, apart from the respect Dominic evidently had for the old man, Jacob was seriously ill, and his time was limited. It would have taken a more ruthless man than Dominic to deny such a simple request.

‘I hope you’re not drinking too much, boy.’ Jacob was nothing if not direct. He nodded to Dominic’s plate, where the better part of his risotto was congealing in the heat. ‘You’ve hardly touched your food.’

Dominic gave a thin smile. ‘I wasn’t hungry, old man,’ he said evenly. ‘It’s too hot for eating.’ He paused before raising his glass to his lips again. ‘Particularly when you’re wearing a suit.’

‘Then get changed!’ exclaimed Jacob at once. ‘You know I’m expecting you to give Cleo a tour of San Clemente later this afternoon.’

‘Oh, that’s not necessary—’ began Cleo hurriedly, but her grandfather ignored her.

‘Me, I’m going to have a rest.’ Jacob blew out a breath. ‘But you’re right. It is hot.’

Cleo turned her head to look at him, aware of an anxiety that was as unexpected as it was misplaced. She hardly knew him, she thought, yet she already felt concerned about him.

Dominic was concerned, too. Putting down his wine glass, he said, ‘Perhaps you ought to get Sam to take you back to Magnolia Hill.’

‘I can rest here just as well as at Magnolia Hill,’ Jacob retorted shortly. ‘Just help me down to the cabin, will you, Dom? It’ll be cooler below deck.’

Cleo chewed anxiously at her lower lip as Dominic got up and helped his grandfather from his chair. One of the crew appeared, possibly expecting to clear the table, but Jacob only waved the man away.

‘Cleo and Dom haven’t finished,’ he said, albeit a little breathlessly as his grandson supported him towards the stairs to the lower deck. ‘Bring my granddaughter some coffee, will you? I think she’d prefer that to the wine.’

By the time Dominic came back, Cleo was sipping her second cup of coffee.

Her eyes darted instantly to his dark face, the enquiry evident in her troubled gaze. ‘Is he all right?’ she asked, putting her cup down as he crossed the deck towards her. ‘The cabins are air-conditioned, aren’t they? He’ll be able to breathe more easily if the air is cooler.’

‘Yeah, he’ll be OK.’ Dominic flung himself back into his chair and regarded her with an intensity of purpose she couldn’t possibly sustain. ‘How about you?’

‘Me?’ Cleo considered picking up her cup again, if only for protection, but she was afraid she might spill its contents. ‘I’m OK.’ She glanced determinedly about her. ‘This certainly is a beautiful place.’

‘Yes, it is.’ Dominic pulled in a long breath and then went for the jugular. ‘I wondered if you’d come.’

Cleo’s eyes widened. ‘Your grandfather invited me,’ she said, and he noted she was back to saying ‘your’ grandfather and not ‘my’. ‘Besides, I wanted to see something of the island before I leave.’

Dominic’s stomach hollowed. ‘You’re leaving!’

‘In a few days, yes,’ said Cleo, concentrating on her finger nudging at her saucer. ‘I’d have thought you’d be pleased. If I’m not here, I’m not a threat, am I?’

‘A threat!’ Dominic’s tone hardened. ‘A threat to whom?’

Cleo pressed her lips together. ‘You know.’

‘What the hell’s that supposed to mean?’ Dominic stared at her, his eyes as cold as green ice. ‘If you’re implying that I might be upset if the old man decides to leave all his money to you—’

‘No!’ Cleo had to look at him now, anguish in her dark gaze. ‘I’d never think anything like that.’ She licked her lips with an agitated tongue. ‘You can’t think I want Jacob’s money! Any of it! I shouldn’t be here. I don’t belong here. I—I just want to get on with my life.’

‘This is your life now,’ stated Dominic harshly. He hated the look of horror he’d brought to her face. But she had to understand that Jacob wasn’t about to let her go, not without a whole raft of conditions. ‘And you do belong here, Cleo. As much as any of us, actually.’

‘No—’

‘Yes.’ With some relucance Dominic got up from his seat and came to take the one his grandfather had vacated beside her. ‘You’re Robert’s daughter. You can’t get away from that. Jacob won’t let you.’

Cleo blew out an unsteady breath and Dominic realised she was trembling. Tiny goosebumps had blossomed all over those pale almond shoulders, enveloping the smooth skin of her throat and puckering the rounded curve of her breasts.

And he had to touch her.

To comfort her, he defended himself. But the minute his hand contacted the fine bones of her shoulder, he wanted to do so much more.

In consequence, his voice was harsher than it should have been when he said, ‘Is the prospect of staying here so terrible?’

Cleo glanced sideways at him. ‘Not terrible, no,’ she said tensely. ‘But, please, let me go. This isn’t helping anyone.’

It’s helping me, thought Dominic unevenly, aware of his pulsing arousal.

But she was right. He was behaving like an idiot.

Yet, ‘Don’t you like me touching you?’ he asked thickly, all too aware of the warmth of her bare thigh brushing his trousered leg. ‘That’s not the impression I got before.’

‘Bastard!’

The word was barely audible, but the way she thrust back her chair and got to her feet showed how angry she was. Casting a contemptuous glance over her shoulder, she strode across the deck to the rail, and for a moment Dominic had the uneasy feeling that she intended to jump over the side.

But all she did was grip the rail with both hands and stare out across the water. He guessed her knuckles must be white, judging by the taut muscles tensing in her arms. The stiff line of her spine was eloquent of the resentment she was feeling, the sweet curve of her buttocks above those spectacular thighs made him itch to cup them in his hands.

Dear God!

He dragged his hands through his hair, aware that this wasn’t the way he’d intended to play it. Dammit, she had a low enough opinion of him as it was without him making it ten times worse. Yet something about her got under his skin. When he was with her, he couldn’t think about anything—or anyone—else.

Common sense was telling him to go and get changed into something cooler and take her into town. He’d promised his grandfather he’d look after her, and that didn’t include touching her every chance he got.

Getting to his feet, he stood for a moment regarding that rigid back, and then, almost of their own volition, his feet moved in her direction.

He stopped directly behind her, but she didn’t turn. She must have heard his approach, he thought impatiently, waving the ever-attentive waiter away. The soles of his Oxfords made a distinct sound against the floor of the deck.

‘Talk to me,’ he said, his breath fluttering the wisps of sable silk that had escaped her scarf. ‘Dammit, Cleo, I’m not the only one involved here. You wanted me yesterday morning. You can’t deny it. If I hadn’t called a halt…’

Cleo clamped her jaws together. She had nothing to say to him. But he was right. However passionately she might try to convince herself that he’d been totally to blame for what had happened, nothing could alter the fact that she’d been completely blown away by his kisses, had been drowning in the sensuous beauty of his mouth.

Her silence angered Dominic. Drawing the wrong conclusions, he did something he would never have done if she’d only admitted there were faults on both sides.

Moving closer, he placed a hand on the rail at either side of her. Now she was imprisoned against the chrome-plated barrier, his lean body taut against her back.

She moved then, tried to turn, but he wouldn’t let her. With the scent of her warm body rising to his nostrils and the agitated movements she was making only adding to his unwilling response, there was no way he was going to let her go.

Pressing closer, he let her feel the unmistakable thrust of his arousal. Wedged one leg between hers to feel her sensual heat.

The little moan that issued from her lips when he bent his head and bit the soft skin at the side of her neck was almost his undoing.

It was so fragile, so anguished, and a knot twisted in his belly at the sound. But the desire to turn her round and feel her breasts pucker against his chest was consuming any lingering sense he had left.

‘Dominic…’

Her whispered protest only added to the urgent need he had to touch her. The sinuous pressure of her thighs against his pelvis almost drove him crazy with need.

‘I want you,’ he said, his voice barely recognisable to his own ears, it was so thick and hoarse with emotion. ‘I don’t care about anything else. I just want to feel you naked in my arms.’

‘And then what?’ Cleo challenged him unsteadily, even as her treacherous body arched back against him.

She so much wanted to give in. But she had to remember who he was, what he was: a man who apparently cared for nothing but his own needs.

She took a deep breath. ‘Perhaps you’re thinking, like mother, like daughter. That I’m no better than Celeste. That just because a white man looked at her—a married man, moreover—she was happy to let him screw her brains out.’

‘No!’

Dominic swore then, his voice harsh with self-loathing. Hauling her round to face him, he grasped her tilted chin in one less-than-gentle hand.

‘D’you think that’s what all this is about?’ he demanded, trying to ignore her quivering lips, her eyes, that were the mirror of her soul. ‘Some sick desire to follow in my father’s footsteps?’ His jaw clenched. ‘For God’s sake, Cleo, I thought you knew me better than that.’

Cleo trembled. ‘But I don’t know you at all!’ she exclaimed, her hands gripping his biceps, feeling the muscles grow taut beneath the fine cotton of his shirt. ‘I don’t know anything about you.’

She was trying to hold him back, but it was a losing battle. He was so much stronger than she was, so much more determined to have his way.

‘You do know me,’ he said savagely. His thumb scraped painfully across her lower lip. ‘Dammit, you know how I feel about you.’

‘Do I?’

Her eyes widened and now he could see tears sparkling in the corners. And the desire he’d had to hurt her as she was hurting him was strangled by his need to comfort her.

‘Cleo—’

‘You want I should clear now, Mr Dominic, sir?’

Dominic couldn’t believe it. One of the yacht’s younger—less experienced—stewards had appeared at the top of the steps that led down to the domestic area of the vessel carrying a tray.

Forced to let go of Cleo, Dominic swung round, ready to deliver a cutting denial. But Cleo’s hand on his sleeve was a silent rebuke.

‘All right,’ he muttered. ‘Why not?’ He gave the youth an affirming nod. ‘I guess we’re finished here.’

Then, striding away towards the companionway, he cast a look back at Cleo. ‘Wait for me,’ he commanded harshly. ‘I won’t be long.’