Читать книгу Modern Romance December 2019 Books 5-8 - Jane Porter - Страница 15

SHE WOULD DANCE and keep a sensible distance.

Lucas was so big, was that even possible?

Even his mouth was sexy, and, like a magnet, was drawing her in. And then there was his scent: warm, clean man, laced with citrus and sandalwood. Damn him for making her feel as if anything he had to say or do was fine by her. She should have stayed until she’d checked every table for lost items, made sure the staff had all gone to bed, and then departed for her room, too tired to think about Lucas.

Where she would continue her lonely existence? She’d made lots of friends since leaving home, but they had their own lives, and carving a village out of a city as big and diverse as London wasn’t easy. She had achieved her goal in maintaining her independence and progressing her career, but there was a price to pay for everything, and romance had passed her by. It would have been safer not to dance with Lucas, but he was an anchor who reminded her of good things in her past. Teasing and tormenting him, laughing with him, caring for the animals they loved side by side, had bred an intimacy between them went beyond sex. There was a time when she’d rather have had Lucas tell her that he admired her horsemanship than her breasts, and that was still partly true today. In her fantasies, being held safe in his arms was always the best option, but this wasn’t safe. His hands on her body as they danced and his breath on her cheek couldn’t remotely be called safe. It was a particular type of torture that made her want more.

Thankfully, she was stronger than that. ‘So we’ve danced,’ she declared as if her body wasn’t shouting hallelujah, while her sensible mind begged her to leave. ‘It’s time for me to go to bed.’

‘No,’ he argued flatly. ‘You can’t leave now. It would be rude to the musician. He might think we don’t like his music.’

She glanced at the guitarist, who was absorbed in his own world. ‘Do you think he’d notice?’

Luc’s lips pressed down as he followed her gaze. ‘I’m sure he would. Do you want to risk it?’

‘No,’ Stacey admitted. The man had played non-stop during the banquet. Who could deny him his downtime?

‘Good,’ Lucas murmured, bringing her close.

He’d turned her insides to molten honey with nothing more than an intimate tone in his voice, and the lightest touch of his hands. The sultry Spanish music clawed at her soul, forcing her to relax, and, as so often happened when she relaxed, she thought about the mother she’d lost before even knowing her, and those long, lonely nights of uncertainty when she was a child, asking herself what her mother would have advised Stacey to do to please everyone the following day. She’d failed so miserably on that front, and had begun to wonder if she would ever get it right.

‘You’re crying.’ Drawing his head back, Lucas stared at her with surprise. ‘Have I upset you?’

‘No. Of course you haven’t.’ Blinking hard, she shook her head and pasted on a smile.

He captured a tear from her cheek and stared at it as if he’d never seen one before. ‘Perhaps you hate dancing with me,’ he suggested in what was an obvious attempt to lighten the mood.

‘I don’t hate it at all,’ she said quickly, wishing her mouth would stop trembling. This wasn’t like her. She always had her deepest feelings well under control.

‘Then what is the matter, Stacey?’

When Lucas talked to her with compassion in his tone he made things worse. She badly wanted to sob out loud now, give vent to all those tears she’d held back as a child. ‘I really need to go to bed,’ she said, sounding tetchy, which was infinitely better than sounding pathetic. ‘I’m tired.’

‘You really need to dance,’ Lucas argued, tightening his grip around her waist. ‘You know what they say about all work and no play?’

‘Success?’ she suggested with bite.

He refused to be drawn into an argument and huffed a laugh. ‘Even I take time out from work, and so should you.’

Perhaps he was right, she conceded. Being in his arms was so different from what she’d expected that the urge to make the moment last was stronger than ever. She’d been waiting for this all her adult life, and even if the guitarist was doing his best to make her cry, perhaps she needed that too. But not tonight. Tonight was a time for celebration, not tears.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘It’s just that this tune makes me sad.’

‘It’s good to let your feelings out,’ Lucas observed, ‘and I’m glad you feel you can do that with me.’

‘I do,’ she murmured.

He must have given the guitarist a subtle directive, as the mood of the music had changed from unbearably affecting to a passionate, earthy rhythm. They fell into step and began to dance in a way that was far more intimate than before, and as the music climbed to a crescendo it seemed only one outcome was possible. Enjoying Lucas was dangerous because it was addictive. It made her want him in a way that was wholly inappropriate for someone hoping to make an impression on a client.

‘I should go.’ She pulled away while she still had the strength to do so.

‘You should stay,’ Lucas argued, and as the guitarist continued to weave his spell, Lucas brought her close enough for their two bodies to become one. She nestled her face against his chest as if she belonged there, as if there had never been any conflict between them, no gulf at all, as if this was how it should be, as if it was right and good.

Dancing with Stacey was harder than he’d thought. Not because she couldn’t dance, but because she could; because she was intuitive and could second-guess his every move. Stacey was no longer a vulnerable tomboy on the brink of entering an adult world, but a woman who knew her own mind. She’d looked exhausted when she’d finished work, but there was no sign of tiredness now. If anything, she seemed energised as she moved to the music like a gypsy queen. Though she’d looked close to tears when the music had affected her, determination had since returned to her eyes. And fire. She wanted him, and she wasn’t afraid to let him know it.

The ache in his groin was unsustainable. He was seeing her as she was, not as she had been. The urge to feel her naked body under his, to drown in her wildflower scent, and to fist her thick, silky hair as he buried his face in her neck, her breasts—

‘Why don’t you do it?’ she challenged softly.

‘Why don’t I do what?’

‘Kiss me?’ she stated bluntly.

She was hyped up on success and impending exhaustion, which meant treating what she said with restraint. In the morning she’d be his friend’s little sister again, and would wake up with regrets. ‘I’ve got more sense—’

He hadn’t expected such a violent reaction. Springing from his arms, she speared him with a glance, then stalked away. Halfway across the ballroom her stride faltered. Turning to face him, she surprised him even more with an expression that was pure invitation.

Lucas was following and she knew that look on his face. It was the same look as when he chased down a ball in polo, or when a shot of him appeared in the broadsheets after he’d closed some mammoth deal. He was a man on a mission and she was that mission. But they’d meet on her terms and on a ground of her choosing. She’d waited so long for this that her mind was made up. If they only had one night together, she was going to make it the best night of her life. Her body was on fire. He’d done that. Her senses had never been keener. Where Lucas was concerned, she’d been honing them for years. Each erogenous zone she possessed had been teased into the highest state of awareness.

Walking into the now-deserted office that she and the team had been using during the banquet, she left the door ajar. Luc walked in behind her and closed the door securely, before leaning back with a brooding expression on his dangerously shadowed face. ‘It’s been a long time,’ he observed in a drawl as lazy as treacle dripping off a spoon. ‘And now this?’

She started to say something but thought better of it. No explanations. No excuses. No regrets. The tension in the room was rising. Their gazes were locked. There could be no turning back. The room was so quiet she could hear them breathing. It was as if, having waited all this time, they were balanced on the edge of an abyss, and when they plummeted over that edge they’d both be changed for ever.

‘It has been a long time,’ she agreed, starting to walk towards him. ‘Far too long, Lucas.’

There was an answering spark in Luc’s eyes. She was no longer a teenager, or a red-faced intern crushed with embarrassment because she’d ruined his date’s dress, or a tomboy arguing the toss with her brother’s friend; she was a woman and he was a man. On that level, at least, there was no divide between them.

‘Are you sure you know what you’re doing?’ he said as she stood on tiptoe to cup his face.

‘In some ways yes, and in others no,’ she admitted truthfully. ‘Some might say I’m seducing you.’

‘Some?’ he queried. ‘I’m only interested in what you have to say.’

Black eyes plumbed her soul. ‘I want you,’ she admitted, as if her whole life had been leading up to this moment. ‘For one night.’

‘One whole night,’ he said, staring down with a glint of humour colouring his black stare. ‘Half an hour ago you were determined to go to bed.’

‘I still want to go to bed,’ she whispered.

Luc hummed as he glanced around the office. ‘But not here, surely?’

‘Why not?’ All the old doubts came crowding in. Was that a genuine comment, or was Lucas looking for a way out?

‘Because I don’t see a bed,’ he suggested dryly.

He made her decision easy when he brushed her lips with his. ‘A nightcap?’ she suggested. ‘Somewhere a little more comfortable than this?’

He didn’t answer right away. Stacey’s intention was clear. If he accepted there could only be one outcome. He’d resisted temptation where Stacey was concerned for so long he craved sex like a man craving water in a desert. But there was the added complication of his upcoming mountain event. Working side by side would bring them closer still and Stacey could never be some casual fling.

His hunger combined with Stacey’s intention to move things forward fast, and in a very different direction, triumphed over any hesitation he might have had. There was nothing safe about entering into the type of situation she was proposing, since he was a man who would happily entertain risk on the polo field, and sometimes even in business, but who would never risk his heart.

Without another word they headed for his penthouse with Stacey in the lead. If she’d been holding his hand, she’d be dragging him. Linking their fingers, he ushered her into his private elevator, which, conveniently, they found waiting on the ballroom level. The instant the doors slid open he backed her inside. Boxing her into a corner, he linked fingers with her other hand. Raising both hands above her head, he pinned her with the weight of his body so he could tease her lips and torment them both as the small steel cocoon rocketed skywards.

Her hands felt wonderfully responsive in his as she made sounds in her throat like a kitten. There was nothing juvenile about her body. That was all woman.

Teasing her lips until she parted them, he kissed her with the pent-up hunger of years. He’d seen this woman grow and endure, survive, and eventually thrive, so this kiss was more than a kiss, it was a rite of passage for both of them.

She whimpered as he mapped her cheeks, her neck, her shoulders, and finally her breasts with his hands, and when he tormented her erect nipples with his thumbnails, she cried out, ‘Yes… Oh, yes, please…’

‘Soon,’ he promised as the elevator sighed to a halt.

He swung her into his arms the moment the doors slid open. It felt so good. She felt so good. Warm and scented with the wildflower perfume he would always associate with Stacey, she was so much smaller than he was, and yet strong in every way. She was perfect, and he had never felt more exhilarated than when he dropped kisses on her face and neck for the sheer pleasure of feeling her tremble in his arms, and hearing her moan with impatience to be one with him.

He pressed his thumb against the recognition pad at the entrance to the penthouse suite and the door swung open.

‘Crazy,’ she exclaimed as he carried her into the steel, glass and pale wood hallway. ‘How the other half lives,’ she added, glancing around.

There was barely a chance to lower her to her feet in his bedroom before the storm. He couldn’t wait a moment longer and yanked her close as she reached for him. It was like two titans clashing, both equally fierce. The urgent need for physical satisfaction clawed at their senses, demanding they do something about it fast. Stacey growled with impatience as he unzipped her dress and let it drop to the floor in a pool of silk.

They both tugged at her thong.

‘Let me,’ she insisted.

He answered the argument by ripping the flimsy lace and casting the remains aside. As he carried her to the bed she was still kicking off her shoes. Papers and files littered the cover so he swept it clear, before laying her down. Discarded jeans, files, a laptop, and a briefcase tumbled to the floor, but he cared for nothing beyond the fact that Stacey’s eyes were black, and her lips were swollen from his kisses.

‘I want you,’ she gasped as he shrugged off his jacket. ‘Be quick,’ she insisted.

Hooking a thumb into the back collar of his shirt, he tugged it over his head. Her sweeping glance took in his torso and he could only suppose it passed her test as she moistened her lips and reached for him. ‘Don’t make me wait,’ she warned.

Stacey didn’t wait. Even he couldn’t have freed his belt buckle that fast.

Whipping Luc’s belt out of its loops, she exclaimed with triumph. With another growl, she freed the top button of his trousers and attended to his zipper. That didn’t take much persuasion. It flew down as he exploded out of it. Curbing the exclamation of shock that sprang to her lips, she recognised what she’d been missing.

Having never seen anything on this scale before, she took a moment to recalibrate her thinking. Her previous experience was confined to fumbling in the back of a car, or unsuccessful student couplings where both parties were clueless, so this was very different—but then Luc was very different. He was the only man she’d ever really wanted, and here they were.

Wild with need, she drew her knees up and before he had a chance to react she had wrapped them around his waist.

‘Yes! Please! Now!’ she commanded fiercely, her fingers biting into his shoulders.

‘But gently,’ Luc insisted.

‘No!’ she fired back, fighting against him trying to dial down the rush. The reality of being hugely inexperienced compared to Luc wasn’t relevant. All that mattered was that he wanted her, really wanted her, and if that only lasted for a few moments, a minute or an hour, she’d take it.

‘Yes. Gently,’ he said on a steady breath that she was sure was intended to soothe her. ‘I don’t want to hurt you. I’m…big.’

A cry flew from her throat. Big? Luc wasn’t big, he was enormous, but as he dipped and stroked, and then retreated, her confidence grew. ‘I’m okay…okay!’ she gasped when he pulled back to check she was all right, but it was too late; Luc already had his suspicions.

‘Are you a virgin?’ He frowned.

‘Why?’ Her fingers tightened on his shoulders. There were so many emotions colliding inside her, she didn’t know what she was, only that Luc was holding her close and she wanted the moment to last a little longer. ‘Why do you ask?’

His look was enough. They knew each other too well for her to lie to him. ‘I’m not a virgin. Technically,’ she added, red-faced.

Luc’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. ‘Technically? What does that mean?’

‘I’m not intact down there,’ she blurted.

‘Are you sure you want to go ahead with this?’

‘Are you sure?’ she countered, and, with desperation driving her, she tilted forward to make the outcome inevitable. ‘You see,’ she said in a tone to make light of things, while her mind was spinning as her body battled to accept a new and very different feeling of being occupied, ‘I’m in charge.’

‘I don’t think so, princess.’

A cry of sheer surprise escaped her as Luc cupped her buttocks in his big hands, lifting her into an even more receptive position. Was she ready for this? Could she take him? Could she take all of him?

Encouraging her with husky words in his own language, Luc rotated his hips to tease her with the promise if not the pressure where she needed it most. Alarm manifested itself in a cry as he sank a little deeper, but then he pulled back. Luc knew exactly what he was doing, and gradually she began to relax. Teasing made her pleasure grow until it became indescribably extreme. Her doubts and fears had disappeared by this time, and all she felt was hunger for more, and then his hands worked some magic, and another type of alarm struck her. ‘I can’t—’

‘You don’t have to, princess…’

The word ‘wait’ was lost in her screams of shocked delight. Release came so suddenly she wasn’t ready for it. If it hadn’t been for Luc keeping her still to make sure she enjoyed every single beat of pleasure, the cataclysmic waves racking her body might have been less intense. As it was, all she could do was allow them to consume her.

‘You’ve waited a long time for that,’ he remarked, dropping kisses on her mouth as her outburst slowly quietened to rhythmical moans of satisfaction.

‘Perhaps I have,’ she agreed groggily, ‘but I won’t admit as much to you.’

‘And now you want more?’ he guessed.

‘I’ll admit that much,’ she agreed. ‘But what about you?’

‘I can wait.’ He frowned. ‘And shouldn’t you be safely asleep by now?’

‘I warned you not to tease.’ Summoning up what little strength remained, she balled her hand into a fist and pummelled it weakly against his shoulder.

‘You’re going to delay that sleep and make time for me?’ Luc suggested with a wicked grin tugging at one corner of his mouth.

‘I suppose that depends on how efficient you are,’ she gasped out, as if she could ever pretend that this feeling of being one was an everyday experience.

Throwing his head back, Luc laughed. ‘I can be efficient. Shall I prove it?’

‘What do you think?’

‘Right now? I prefer actions to thinking.’

She felt warmth flood her veins, knowing they could lie together in perfect harmony, talking and trusting, and—

She must not get too heavily involved. Past experience of trying to give love where it wasn’t wanted had not gone well.

‘Relax,’ he murmured, staring into her eyes to gauge her pleasure in a way that made her feel as if she was the most important thing in the world to him in those moments. It was as if she were standing on the top of a mountain, and no one but him could push her off.

Drawing back, Luc stared down, as though he had to be sure, and then, seeming to have made his decision, he firmed his jaw in a way that made her shudder with desire. He took her slowly and deeply to the hilt. He was so big it was shocking, but wonderful too, and all he had to do was rotate his hips for her to lose control again.

Her pleasure was short-lived, because this time when her screams had quietened Luc said the one thing that could bring her round as fast as if he’d dashed a bucket of ice-cold water in her face. ‘I only wish I could make more time for you,’ he observed with a concerned look.

The bottomless pit that opened up in front of her this time had nothing to do with the promise of pleasure. It held only the prospect of being alone again. Of course her rational mind accepted that Lucas led a very busy life, but what had been rational between them up to now? Somehow in the throes of passion she’d forgotten he had a job to do and so did she, and that their paths through life were very different.

Sensing the drop in her mood, he did everything he could to reassure her. Kissing her, he soothed her with long, caring strokes. ‘I’ll see you later…’

‘Perhaps you will,’ she agreed as he withdrew carefully.

Regret was a double-edged sword. Whatever Stacey felt now or in the future, this was her first time, so he couldn’t begrudge a defensive comment. He’d taken the experience with a pleasure so deep and strong, it would fight bitterly, possibly for the rest of his life, with the knowledge that he had nothing to offer her long-term.

Stacey doubted Lucas would make a point of seeing her later. His last glance in her direction might have been one of conflicted regret, or maybe he’d just given her her marching orders. Which hurt like hell when she had given him the only part of her she had never wanted to give to another living soul. But the facts could not be disputed. ‘I’ll see you later’ was the type of thing people said to each other when they didn’t want to firm up a date, let alone set a time for another meeting. She’d see him again in the mountains, where it would be all business.

Maybe if she’d been a different person she would have come straight out with it and asked him, Do you want to see me again? But the old doubts were never far away.

What made her think Luc wanted anything more than a pleasurable tussle in bed to relax and prepare him for sleep after the banquet? Did she flatter herself that she could hold anyone’s interest for longer than it took to give them what they wanted?

Everything had changed, and nothing, she reflected as images of her father and stepmother mocking her attempts to please them slipped unbidden into her mind.