Читать книгу By Request Collection 1 - Jackie Braun - Страница 31

‘OH … WOW!’ Lissa’s whole being seemed to light up.

‘We’ll need it in writing,’ Blake said, sharper than he intended, remembering the boat fiasco, which still needed discussing. After his father’s betrayal, never again would he trust another as easily. No matter who it was. No matter how attracted he was.

‘Of course.’ Linking her fingers above her head, she laughed with surprising abandon, spinning a circle in the middle of the kitchen. ‘I’ll get right on it.’

She all but danced across the kitchen, reached up on tiptoe and flung her arms around his neck. ‘Thank you.’ Her breasts, firm and full and not constrained by a bra, grazed his torso, sending a spurt of lust straight to his groin.

Before he could respond in any way, she came to an abrupt halt. Her eyes widened, her cheeks coloured and she backed away fast. ‘I … I’m going to go take a look at the room now and write up some ideas before you change your mind.’ Then she turned and hurried from the room.

Lissa clutched her neck with both hands and willed the hot rush of heat to subside as she raced upstairs to her room. She’d got carried away and practically climbed up his chest. Oh, God. And he’d looked positively shocked. She went straight to the en-suite, splashed herself with cool water. She did not look at her reflection.

Sucking in calming breaths, she sat on her bed and took a few minutes to take stock and absorb the conversation. His generous offer. The offer that was conditional on whether or not he liked her work.

When she could breathe normally again, she walked downstairs to the living room and straight to her supplies stacked against one wall. To her relief, Blake was nowhere around.

She flipped her sketch pad open to a new page and sketched the room’s layout. This was a tropical coastal town, so a beach or watery theme. Elegance. Simplicity. The furniture had to go. She glanced up. The exploding crystal orb of light stayed.

‘Ideas?’

She heard Blake behind her but didn’t turn. No distractions. ‘Blues. Ocean theme. I’m thinking dull turquoise. It has both warm and cool undertones so it’s compatible with almost any colour. It works well with charcoal—that slate wall’s ideal. A lift with lime green or even red. Or if we go with a darker version of the turquoise, gold can look very dramatic, which could lend itself well to the honeyed wood …’ She pulled out her big blue paint samples, chose two. She glanced over to him. ‘Can you visualise your walls this shade, or is it too dark for you?’

‘I’m leaving it up to your professional judgement.’

‘But can you live with that colour?’ She walked to the wall and held both samples up high, against the slate.

‘I won’t be here.’

Blake wasn’t looking at the samples. He was looking at the strip of enticing flesh between her jeans and T-shirt. And all he could think of was how she’d felt pressed against him for those few seconds in the kitchen.

All he knew was he wanted that feeling again. He found himself standing behind her, breathing in the fragrance of her hair. His pulse drummed in his ears. ‘The darker one. More full-toned.’

He heard her surprised intake of breath as he studied her neat little fingernails against the colour card. When she didn’t pull away, his hands closed around her waist, his fingers straddling the ridge between her T-shirt and smooth warm skin.

Her hands drifted down the wall; the colour cards fluttered to the floor. He turned her around slowly, looked down at her. ‘I’m going to kiss you. God knows I shouldn’t. You’re Jared’s little sister.’

Her eyes grew huge and glassy; her pupils seemed to swallow the green. ‘I won’t tell him if you don’t,’ she whispered.

He leaned nearer, felt her breath against his face. Felt the heat of her body against his chest. He pulled her closer. ‘Ah, but I’m not going to lie to him, he’s my mate. It’s a matter of honour. But then I’m not feeling particularly honourable right now.’ He dipped his head.

‘After all this time …’ she murmured against his mouth.

‘After all this time … what?’

‘Never mind.’

The breathless sound spilling from those luscious-looking lips, her fragrance shimmering on her skin, the sensation of two tight nipples pushing against the middle of his chest … No, he agreed silently, never mind … whatever it was.

His erection surged hotly against his jeans. Barely smothering an involuntary groan, he slid one hand to the small of her back and encouraged her body into closer alignment to ease the pressure down there.

It didn’t. It only made him hotter and harder. And a whole lot hornier.

Denim shifted against denim as her legs moved against his. She stilled momentarily as the front of his jeans came into contact with her belly. Her eyes locked on his. Knowing, but not quite acknowledging. Not yet.

Then her fingertips crept up his chest, her arms slid around his neck. ‘Unbelievable,’ she murmured.

‘Believe it,’ he murmured back.

Lissa looked up into those liquid blue eyes framed with thick dark lashes and wanted to drown there. She slid her fingers into his short military haircut and released a sigh that seemed to come from the depths of her soul.

Then, in a flash like a remnant of lightning from last night’s storm, she hesitated. Did he know how she’d always felt about him? Was he about to take full advantage of that knowledge?

His erection butted against her as if in answer and, oh, how long had she wanted that? But, ‘Wait …’ She relinquished her hold and pushed at his chest. Reluctantly but firmly.

His brows lowered, his gaze turned bemused, those perfect, ready lips turned down at the corners, but he didn’t quite let her go. His hands still rested on her waist. ‘You okay?’

‘I … yes.’ Of course he didn’t know.

But how well did she really know Blake? Did she believe the old gossip about him? She didn’t know—she’d never had any personal contact with him beyond the casual ‘hi and bye’.

She’d thought she’d known Todd. She’d trusted him with her heart, and with her body, and he’d abused that trust. In so many ways. The niggle turned to panic and flared bright and urgent within her. She started to pull out of his hold.

‘Hang on, where are you going?’ He tugged her back, his arms slid around her, steel bands holding her prisoner.

She fought down a sudden feeling of claustrophobia. ‘I just remembered I need to. be somewhere.’

‘No.’ He released one arm to lift her chin with a finger so that she was looking up, up into his eyes. ‘No,’ he said again, softer this time, but no less demanding as he gripped her chin and dropped his mouth to hers.

Futile to fight it. The old thought flashed through her mind and hot panic geysered up her throat but as his lips moved over hers the bad drained away as quickly as it came.

She’d fought Todd when he’d made the same move on her over and over while she’d struggled and died inside, but here, beneath the heat of Blake’s mouth, even within his uncompromising hold there was a whole world of difference.

Because she knew instinctively that she could pull away at any time.

Masculine dominance. Strength. Control. She’d come to fear them, but with Blake, here, now, it faded away like mist beneath a tropical sun. She felt none of that familiar trepidation, only a willingness to meet him equally, man to woman, and an urgent desire for more.

His stubble grazed her chin. Her legs trembled and she clutched at his T-shirt to keep from sliding to a puddle at his feet. She could feel the hard wall of his chest, leashed power humming just beneath his skin, the heavy thump of his heart against her fists.

This was nothing like a simple meeting of mouths. Nothing like it had been with any other man. Here, as his lips moved over hers, there was fire. The same fire, the same hot desire that burned brightly within her.

Until Todd had left her feeling inadequate as a lover, she’d never been a woman to shrink from her own desires, from taking what she needed from a man and giving in return. Celebrating her sexuality, absorbing her own pleasure, while ensuring she reciprocated in full measure. But she’d never felt the overwhelming emotional connection that suffused her whole being now, with Blake.

Her mouth parted only too willingly as he sought entry, his tongue dancing lightly over hers at first, then deeper, bolder, exploring the inside of her cheeks, her teeth. So easy to let emotion take command of her body as she absorbed the rich dark flavours he brought, the low growl she could hear deep in his throat, the feel of his fingers beneath her chin, against her neck. So simple to forget everything but this urgent, raw desire sweeping through her and give herself up to it.

Blake had never known that passion could be laced in such delicacy. His hands were unsteady as he tilted her head for better access to more of her sweetness, lifting them so he could glide his fingers through her silky hair and hold her close, where he wanted her. Where he needed her.

With her pale skin and clear translucent eyes she reminded him of a miniature porcelain doll. Easily broken. So he was careful to keep the fire that roared like an inferno through his blood contained.

Something had spooked her a moment ago, but now … now she clung to him, all lithe limbs and soft feminine curves. Her body melted against his, fitted with his as if she’d been made expressly for that purpose.

A rumble rose up his throat as he cruised his hands up over her shoulder blades, taking it slow, testing her response, testing his own. Then down her spine, all the way down so that he could tuck that spectacular bottom even closer against him.

But when his erection ground against her belly and she let out a sexy turned-on moan, all reason, all thought fled except the overwhelming desire to have her. His greedy hands raced up to skim the outer edges of her full round breasts. Taking their weight in his palms, he indulged in her warm, womanly shape.

Hunger. An insatiable hunger that demanded to be appeased. And need. Hot, acute, devastating need that rushed in with a torpedo’s force to fill the void he’d learned to live with.

Dipping his head, he nuzzled a breast until he found its pebble-hard nipple. Heard her murmur, ‘Oh … yes …’

He drew it into his mouth and suckled her through the soft jersey while his hands slipped beneath the hem of her T-shirt to feel her silky smooth belly against his palms. When he nipped at the erect little peak with his teeth, she gasped and arched against his mouth.

As if from a distance he heard a muffled sob as she cried out his name, sending white-hot shards arrowing straight to his throbbing groin. He shifted his attention to her other breast while he eased the T-shirt up over her ribcage, his thumbs already grazing the undersides of those perfect globes.

Then her hands pushed at his chest and through the roaring in his ears he heard the words, ‘Blake … stop …’

Stop? It was enough to shake off the sexual fog that enshrouded them. He looked into those wide, passion-drenched eyes and knew she wanted it as bad as he. ‘Okay, we’ll take this somewhere more comfortable,’ he murmured.

But when he ran a finger over the neck of her T-shirt, skirting the swell of her breast, she wrapped a restraining hand around his. ‘No sexual favours …’

He frowned. ‘Is that what you think this is? Repayment for my assistance?’

‘I don’t know, I …’

She thought so little of him? And suddenly he knew why. She believed the gossip. A bitter taste lodged in his throat. ‘This is called sealing the deal with a kiss,’ he muttered harshly, ‘and you were enjoying it as much as me.’

‘It wasn’t just a kiss.’

Then his brain caught up with the rest of him. Her wavering, the hesitation. Her incredulous, ‘After all this time.’ Her reluctance to explain. Ah, hell.

She was a virgin.

And here he’d been well on the way to spreading those lovely tanned legs wide and taking her against the slate wall. For God’s sake. She should think so little of him.

Gritting his teeth against his throbbing erection, he backed off. Carefully. Her virginal dreams no doubt included love and commitment. Not being taken against a damn wall. No way.

Lissa dragged in some much-needed air. Needed because he’d just kissed her as if the world were coming to an end and sucked her oxygen clean away. She felt as if she were waking from a dream just when it was getting to the interesting part.

Her sensitised nipples were begging for more of that attention he’d been paying them. Why had she stopped him? Calling a halt to the most exciting sexual experience of her life and with the man she’d most wanted to experience it with?

Because at this point in time she needed something more.

She didn’t know Blake well enough for this intensity. But she knew of his reputation.

‘This is going way too fast,’ she said, still struggling to catch her breath. ‘Right now I’m more interested in an income than. anything else. I can’t risk any distractions getting in the way of that. So priority one: I need to focus on this room makeover. Okay?’

He didn’t return her smile, possibly because she wasn’t even sure she had smiled. Her tingling lips felt as if they belonged to someone else.

‘Understood.’ He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. ‘I’ll organise for the arrangements to be detailed in writing immediately.’ He spoke as though he were chewing on scrap metal and his brows lowered over eyes carefully blanked of all that emotion she’d seen only seconds ago. He backed away as if he couldn’t wait to be gone.

‘Great. The sooner, the better.’ Her hand itched to reach out and touch his morning-stubbled jaw and tell him … what? That she’d changed her mind and wanted him to finish what he’d started and to hell with everything else?

‘I know a solicitor.’ His voice was as stiff as the painful looking bulge in his pants. ‘I’ll check whether she’s still in the area and give her a call now.’

Chewing on her still-throbbing lips, she looked away quickly down to her hands in front of her. ‘Right. Okay.’

He turned on his heel and left the room.

Lissa watched him go, her pulse still galloping from here to eternity. She touched her mouth, still damp from Blake’s. With him she was still that naive girl who didn’t know any better and who hadn’t learned that she didn’t choose wisely when it came to men.

Right now her career future was more important than getting intimately involved. If it went wrong between them she could lose this chance to makeover his room and any future financial backing.

And yet … he’d not taken her without care. He’d stopped when she’d asked. He’d considered Jared and spoken of honour. How many men spoke of honour, for goodness’ sake? He was a decent guy. Those rumours had to be wrong.

Todd was the reason she didn’t trust men’s motives. His dark good looks had hidden an even darker side. The Toad had lied to her about his past and manipulated her feelings for him. A man of deceit and no morals. The opposite of Blake in every way that counted.

But she wouldn’t think about how right and perfect Blake’s body had felt against hers or the taste of his kiss. oh, no, she would not. That road led to certain heartbreak. Because he could be gone at any time.

She picked up her dropped paint samples. She was counting on Blake not telling Jared about the boat’s problems or their agreed partnership until she gave the nod. She’d concentrate on his generous offer, pay for the repairs from the income she made and work her backside off to show she was worthy. To show him, and herself, and then her family that she could be the successful career woman she wanted to be.

First up, she’d impress him with her transformation of his living room. With renewed enthusiasm, she shimmied towards the wall with her paint samples and a swatch of gold-coloured fabrics.

Blake poked his head through the doorway catching her mid-shimmy.

‘Can you be ready to leave in thirty minutes?’ His gaze drifted from her hips to linger on her breasts where her T-shirt still bore the damp circles from his mouth.

A flush crept up her neck. ‘I’ll be ready.’

Her reply finally drew his attention to her face. ‘Great,’ he said, and disappeared again.

Lissa glanced at her tell-all top and jeans. But not in these clothes.

Blake returned to the study, pleased with the ease with which he’d been able to organise the solicitor. Deanna Mayfield was an old school friend from Surfers who practised law in Mooloolaba. She was twice divorced and had been delighted to hear from him. She’d even juggled appointments to fit them in.

Next, he arranged for a plumber and an electrician to come in the afternoon, then searched the local area for men’s clothing stores on his laptop.

It kept his mind occupied and therefore off Lissa and what had happened in the living room. That had been his intention, except that he could still taste her, could still smell her scent on his clothes.

He’d made her a business offer in one instant and kissed her to kingdom come in the next. Only he hadn’t stopped at a kiss. He’d been so blind-sided it hadn’t registered that she might be a virgin. How many twenty-three-year-old virgins were there these days?

Was she keeping it for Mr Right? Or was it because she hadn’t she found a guy with enough power and vigour to light her fire? He preferred the latter. He was no woman’s Mr Right and he’d already glimpsed the smouldering evidence in her eyes.

He drummed restless fingers on the desk. Trouble with virgins was they attached too much emotion to the sexual act and the last thing he needed was an emotional female who expected more. He had a gut feeling Lissa would be a woman who expected that ‘more’.

She was Jared’s sister. Getting physical with a mate’s sister was one thing, but when said sister was a virgin? No way. No how. Out of bounds.

He needed to remember their agreement and maintain his focus on the goals they’d set and his hands off her body.

Her vivacious, voluptuous, virginal body.

His gaze flicked to the Titian-haired reclining nude in a Pre-Raphaelite original painting, titled ‘Chastity’, on the wall and wondered vaguely why his father hadn’t tried to sell it. Had to be worth a quid.

Disturbed by the maidenly beauty and its similarity to a certain redhead, he averted his eyes and glared at the computer screen. Perhaps he and Deanna could have a drink later, catch up on old times.

He thought about the six-foot-tall blonde who’d won the Miss Sunshine Contest at seventeen when he’d been a gangly star-struck sixteen. Maybe he could suggest they … what?

On an oath, he shut down his computer. The thing was … the mystery was … he had a churn-in-the-gut feeling that no woman was going to take the edge off his need unless that woman was Lissa. The sooner he had the business plans drawn up and boat repaired, the better off it would—

Lissa’s ear-piercing shriek from out back had him shoving out of his chair and bounding for the door.

Lissa stared in numb disbelief at the empty space where the houseboat had been only moments ago. ‘Oh, my God, oh, my God.’ She’d yelled until her vocal cords had given out and now she couldn’t seem to raise her voice above a murmur. Her legs felt like spaghetti and every vital organ within her body was twisting and churning.

This was a mistake. A dream—a nightmare.

She heard the back door slide open. Heard a muttered series of harsh four-letter expletives, then Blake’s heavy footsteps sprinting along the path.

The steps slowed, stopped behind her. She didn’t turn around. Her eyes were riveted on the swirling water, a gurgling liquidy sound and the rectangular shape disappearing beneath the surface. ‘No!’

‘Lissa.’ Firm hands gripped her shoulders. ‘It’s going to be okay.’

She watched bubbles stream to the surface as her home sank deeper and blurred and felt herself start to shake uncontrollably. ‘Going to be okay? Going to be okay? My boat, my home, my whole life. Gone. And you’re telling me it’s okay?’ Her hands flew to her face. ‘Why didn’t you tell me how bad it was? Why didn’t you insist I pack up everything last night?’

She hated being told what to do so why was she blaming another person for her mistakes?

‘We saved your all-important samples, that’s—’

‘My clothes!’ she shrieked again. ‘I’ve lost all my clothes!’ Then they both stared in silence as a pale amorphous shape drifted up from the murky depths. Two small mounds popped onto the surface like mini desert islands.

‘Well, maybe not all,’ he murmured, and dropped to his knees, leaned down and plucked her buttercup bra out of the water.

‘Oh … shut up! I hate you!’ Vaguely, her mind registered that under normal circumstances the sight of his tanned long fingers on her most intimate of garments would have thrilled her, but right now all she felt was the burn of humiliation.

She snatched it out of his grasp. She couldn’t look at him. Her eyes were stinging and deep inside she was very afraid she was coming apart and was disgusted with herself for that weakness. Why, of all people, did it have to be this particular man witnessing her defeat?

‘Hey. I shouldn’t have said that.’ He turned her in his arms and held on tight. ‘The Lissa I know is strong and resilient, she’ll get through this.’

‘How would you know how I am?’ Her presence had barely registered on his personal radar. ‘I was just a kid and you didn’t know me.’

‘Ah, but I did know you. You were one very determined, very single-minded kid.’

‘Yeah, right.’ He meant stubborn and spoiled. Indulged and irresponsible. Didn’t this prove it? It had been her duty to look after Jared’s boat and now.

But his reassurance was gruff against her ear when he said, ‘The most important thing is you’re safe.’

Safe? How was she safe when she had nowhere to live? Why hadn’t she packed an overnighter, at least? She’d let him tell her what to do and now … now look at the mess she was in. She fought against him but it was like fighting against a warm rip tide.

‘They’re just things, Lissa. Everything can be replaced.’

‘But they were my things,’ she said, a single tear spilling down her cheek. ‘Every stick of furniture, every knick-knack. My mother’s bluebird of happiness brooch. They might mean nothing to anyone else but they meant something to me. I worked my backside off for it all, right down to the last scented candle. And before you ask, no, I don’t have contents insurance.’ Because she’d let it lapse two months ago due to lack of funds.

She felt him draw a deep breath but he didn’t nag her. Instead, he held her against him and muttered soothing noises against her hair.

‘You know something,’ he said a moment later, ‘I could fit all my worldly possessions in the back of a station wagon and I do okay.’

She looked up to see if he was joking. How did a person cram their life into the back of a car? Unbelievable. It wasn’t normal. She let her forehead fall back onto his chest. ‘You have this house. This mansion.’

‘True.’

Closing her damp eyes, she gave up the fight and leaned into his musky warmth. And all she could think was if he hadn’t been here, if he hadn’t insisted she sleep in the house despite her vigorous objections, she might be at the bottom of the river now.

He drew back, still holding her upper arms. ‘Guess we won’t need the plumber’s services after all.’

She opened her eyes and saw a dark splotch on his T-shirt where her waterlogged bra had been trapped between them. She lifted her gaze to his and, just for once, allowed herself the comfort of having someone to lean on. ‘What happens now?’