Читать книгу Taken by the Millionaire: Hotly Bedded, Conveniently Wedded - Kate Hardy - Страница 10

ALEX spent the weekend in the Cotswolds visiting his parents, and Isobel was shocked at how much she missed him, how empty the flat seemed without him.

Don’t get too used to this, she warned herself. Alex would move out once he’d got the job and decided where to settle. If he decided to move back to his own flat, he might stay for his tenants’ notice period, but he wouldn’t stay any longer than that. And their engagement was one of convenience, which wouldn’t last very long; there was no point in getting a ring.

She went out for a long walk on Hampstead Heath on the Sunday; when she let herself back into the flat, she was surprised to see Alex already there. And she was furious with herself for the fact that her heart actually missed a beat. ‘You’re back early,’ she said, keeping her voice deliberately light.

He looked grim. ‘Mmm.’

There was only one thing she could think of that would’ve made him look so upset. ‘Is your mum all right?’

‘She’s fine.’

‘Then what’s wrong?’

He raked a hand through his hair. ‘Things didn’t go quite according to plan.’

‘How do you mean?’

He sucked in a breath. ‘I took my parents out to lunch today. I was telling Mum about the job—and that you’d agreed to be my temporary fiancée, to give me the right profile. Except she didn’t hear the word “temporary”.’ He sighed deeply. ‘She thinks we’re really getting married, Bel. And her face … She looked so happy. As if a huge weight had been lifted from her. I just didn’t have the heart to correct her—not in the middle of the Partridge, anyway. I was going to wait until we were back home and then explain without having an audience listening in. But then I got out of the car and Dad was shaking my hand and slapping me on the back and telling me how pleased he was that I was finally settling down and about time it was too—and the next thing I knew, my mum had already gone next door to see your mum.’

Isobel blinked. ‘Marcia told my mum we were engaged?’

‘And Saskia. And Helen. And Polly. And half the street. I’ve only just managed to persuade her not to stick a notice in the local paper.’ He looked rueful. ‘I tried to ring your mobile to warn you, but your voicemail told me your phone was unavailable—and your landline went straight through to your answering machine.’

‘I went out for a walk—I must’ve been in a bad reception area.’

‘I sent you a couple of texts. Maybe they went AWOL.’

Or maybe she’d accidentally left her phone in silent mode. She took it out of her bag and checked the screen. There were three messages from Alex, all telling her to ring him urgently and not to listen to any of the messages on her answering machine until he got back to London.

She glanced at the answering machine. ‘Messages.’ The light was still flashing, so clearly he hadn’t listened to them.

‘I’m really sorry, Bel.’

‘Better find out what they have to say.’ She pressed ‘play’. The first message was from Alex. ‘Houston, we have a problem. Call me when you can—and if you’ve got other messages on the machine after this, don’t take any notice of them, OK? I’ll explain everything when I get back.’

Next was her mother. ‘Bel, Marcia just told me. It’s fantastic news—but why didn’t you tell me yourself, love? Get your diary and call me when you’re back. Your dad and I want to take you both out to dinner to celebrate. Love you.’

Then it was Alex’s mother. ‘Bel, we’re so pleased to hear the news—I wish Alex had waited until you were back from your course, so you could’ve told us together, but I know what my son’s like. He can’t wait for anything. See you soon, love. And we’re so pleased. We couldn’t have hoped for a better daughter-in-law.’

And then Saskia. ‘Oh, my God, you’re actually going to be my sister! Isobel Martin, how could you keep something like this quiet? And from me, of all people! Ring me the second you get this. I want details.’ She laughed. ‘And congratulations. This is brilliant. It’s the best news I’ve heard all year.’

Isobel sat down and looked at Alex. ‘Oh, blimey. They’re all so pleased.’

‘I know.’

‘And what course? Why does your mother think I’m on a course?’

He lifted a hand in protest. ‘She asked why you weren’t with me to share the news. I had to think on my feet. So I said the first thing that came into my head—that you were on a course. Which I know was a lie, and I know you hate lying, but what else could I do?’

‘You could’ve told them the truth.’

‘How?’ He sighed. ‘I’ve been racking my brain all the way here to work out how to fix this. Look, if you don’t mind going along with it for a while, then we can say I’ve done something terrible—I dunno, got drunk and disgraced you and gone off with another woman at a party or something—and you can break off the engagement in high dudgeon. And then we can just go back to normal.’

She shook her head. ‘Alex, that’s a hideously bad idea—it’ll hurt everyone. Your parents will never forgive you if they think you’ve treated me badly, mine will never forgive you either, and it’ll cause rifts all over the place. And I’m not going to tell even more lies. It’s enough of a mess as it is.’

‘Bel, you heard them all. They’re delighted that we’re together. It’s as if we’ve given them Christmas, a milestone birthday and a huge lottery win all rolled into one. If I tell them the truth, they’ll be so disappointed, so upset that it’s not happening. At least if we tell them it didn’t work out, it’ll let them down gently.’

‘By you being unfaithful? That’s hardly being gentle, Alex.’

‘Then I hope you’ve got a better idea, because I can’t think of any other way.’

Her mind had gone completely blank. ‘I can’t, either,’ she admitted.

‘Mum said she wondered how long it would take me to see what was right under my nose, and she’s glad I finally realised.’ He raked his hand through his hair. ‘She thinks I’ve been in love with you secretly since for ever.’

‘Of course you haven’t.’ Isobel shifted guiltily. Though could she say the same for herself? The fact that she could still remember how a kiss had felt twelve years ago …’ This is crazy.’

‘And it’s my fault. I’m sorry, Bel.’ He looked grim. ‘I’m just going to have to call everyone and put them straight. I apologise if it’s going to cause any awkwardness for you.’

‘Hey. I’ll get over it,’ she said lightly.

‘I just hate bursting Mum’s bubble. Especially as Saskia called me on my way back here and told me it’s the brightest she’s heard Mum sound in months.’

‘I know where you’re coming from. My parents have wanted to see me settled down again, too, after Gary. I think it’s because they’re …’ She bit her lip. ‘I was a late baby. Their only one. And although Mum’s a young seventy-two, she’s been talking lately about …’ She swallowed. ‘About getting old.’

‘And the fact that they’re your only family.’

Trust Alex to see straight into the heart of things. And to voice what she couldn’t bring herself to say—that when her parents died she’d be completely on her own.

He paused. ‘You know, this could be a solution for both of us.’

‘What could?’

‘Getting married. For real.’

It was a moment before she could speak. ‘But, Alex, you said you want to settle down and have a family.’

He shrugged. ‘A wife counts as family.’

‘So you don’t want children?’

He spread his hands. ‘Bel, if you want children, that’s fine by me—if you don’t, that’s also fine. No pressure either way.’

‘But …’ Panic skittered through her. If only he knew. They might not have a choice. ‘We can’t do this.’

‘Yes, we can.’ He took her hand. ‘Think about it. Our parents get on well. I like your parents and you like mine—we’re both going to have great in-laws.’

Something Isobel definitely hadn’t experienced with Gary, whose mother had always resented her. Nothing had ever been said overtly, but there had been plenty of pointed comments; Gary’s mother hadn’t taken well to the idea of his wife being the most important woman in his life. Isobel knew she wouldn’t have to put up with anything like that from Marcia, who had always treated her as a much-loved part of the family.

‘Both lots of parents are going to be relieved we’re settled down,’ Alex continued, ‘and they’ll stop worrying about us and nagging us. And we’ve got the basis for a brilliant marriage—we like each other.’

‘But liking isn’t enough,’ she protested.

‘Yes, it is. It’s better than love, Bel. It’s honest. It’s permanent—something that’s not going to change and we don’t have all these false ideals and rosy-coloured glasses, so we’re not going to get hurt. We’re going into this knowing exactly what we’re doing. Eyes wide open.’

‘I …’

He sighed. ‘Bel, if you’re worrying about what I think you’re worrying about … there’s only one way to prove it to you.’ He bent his head and kissed her.

It was the lightest, sweetest, most unthreatening kiss, and Isobel felt herself relax. Alex cupped her face in both hands and bent his head again. His mouth moved against hers, soft and sweet and gentle.

And then suddenly it was as if someone had lit touch-paper and heat flared between them. Her hands were fisted in his hair, their mouths were jammed together, and his tongue was exploring hers.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d wanted someone so much.

And it was as scary as hell.

He broke the kiss for a moment, just to warn her, ‘Stop thinking—just feel.’ And then he was kissing her again, making her head spin.

The next thing she knew, Alex had swung her up in his arms and was carrying her to her bedroom. He set her down on her feet next to the bed. ‘Wow, Bel, you’re a real hedonist. I’ve never seen so many pillows.’

Of course. It was the first time he’d ever been in her bedroom. He’d always slept on her sofa bed whenever he’d stayed over at her flat. He walked over to the wrought-iron footboard and ran his fingers along it. ‘This is beautiful. And I’m very glad you have a double bed.’ He smiled. ‘Especially because you have all those pillows.’

‘I read in bed,’ she said defensively. ‘It’s more comfortable with lots of pillows.’

‘Other things are better with lots of pillows, too,’ he remarked.

And when colour shot into her face he laughed, stole another kiss, and went over to her bedside table. He switched on the lamp, closed the curtains, then frowned. ‘This light’s a bit bright.’

‘I told you, I read in bed.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I don’t see the point of giving myself eye strain.’

‘True. But I want something softer. Don’t move. And whatever you do, don’t start thinking.’

‘Why?’

He sighed. ‘Because … Look, there’s an easier way.’ He walked back over towards her, slid his arms round her and kissed her—sensual, demanding, and it actually made her knees weak. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this turned on by just a kiss.

‘Whatever’s put that look in your eyes, hold that thought,’ he said, his voice huskier and deeper than usual.

He left the room and she could hear him moving things in her living room. He returned a few moments later with the pillar candle she kept on her mantelpiece, placed it on the bedside table next to the lamp, lit the candle and then switched off the lamp.

‘Better,’ he said in approval.

Then he sat on the bed and patted the space next to him. ‘Come here,’ he said, his voice soft.

‘Alex, I …’ How could she tell him she was scared she’d disappoint him? That she was out of practice? That no way would she match up to the leggy stick insects he normally dated?

In the end, she didn’t have to, because he took her hand and tugged her towards him, then scooped her onto his lap. ‘It’s going to be OK, Bel. And you don’t have to be shy with me. I’ve seen you naked before.’

She stared at him in surprise. ‘Since when?’

‘When you were about … oh, I dunno. Two? It was a really hot summer that year and we almost always had the paddling pool out. You and Saskia used to splash about all afternoon.’ He laughed. ‘Mum’s probably got a photo somewhere.’

When she was two? She rolled her eyes. ‘That doesn’t count.’ But she found herself laughing, relaxing.

‘That’s better,’ he said softly. ‘Stop worrying. This is going to be fine.’

And if she were honest with herself, it was something that had been simmering between them for years. Unfinished business. An attraction she’d never admitted to because she’d been so sure Alex didn’t think of her in that way … but he’d brought it up himself a few days ago. Told her that he saw her as a woman.

Maybe—just maybe—this was what they both needed.

To get it out of the way and go back to being sensible.

Though there was still a problem. She took a deep breath. ‘Alex, I haven’t done this for a while.’

‘Good.’

‘Good?’ Now that was a reaction she hadn’t expected.

He smiled, and rubbed the pad of his thumb against her lower lip. ‘Very good, in fact. Because it means I get to remind you what pleasure’s all about.’

When her lips parted involuntarily, he dipped his head again to kiss her; by the time he broke the kiss, her head was spinning. He slid his hands under her T-shirt, stroking her abdomen with the tips of his fingers. ‘Your skin’s so soft.’ He nuzzled the curve of her neck. ‘You smell of orange blossom. I want to touch you, Bel. I want to look at you.’ Gently, he tugged at the hem of her T-shirt and she let him pull the material over her head.

He sucked in a breath. ‘You’re beautiful. How come it’s taken me all these years to notice?’

‘Because you’ve dated a string of women who were practically models?’ she suggested.

He gave her a mock-affronted look. ‘Isobel Martin, are you calling me shallow?’

‘Yup.’

He grinned. ‘Better hope I have hidden depths, then.’

He traced the lacy edge of her bra with the tip of one finger. The light touch made her quiver, and her nipples were tightening again.

Although he didn’t make a comment, he’d clearly noticed, and rubbed the pad of his thumb across them; the friction of her lacy bra against her sensitive skin sent a thrill through her.

‘You’re still fully clothed,’ she said.

‘Do something about it, then,’ he invited.

She undid the buttons of his shirt to reveal a broad, muscular chest, olive skin and dark hair. Such perfect musculature. She ran her fingertips over his hard pectoral muscles, his ribcage. And when she looked him straight in the eye, she could barely see his irises, his pupils were so huge. Meaning that he was as turned on by this mutual exploration as she was.

He slid the straps of her bra down, then kissed her bare shoulders; Isobel felt a sharp kick of excitement in her stomach. His mouth drifted along to the curve of her neck; when she closed her eyes and tipped her head to one side, he began a trail of tiny, nibbling kisses all the way along the sensitive cord at the side of her neck. His lips were warm and sure and incredibly sexy, and he was finding erogenous zones she hadn’t even known existed. Isobel shivered when he lingered in the sensitive spot behind her ear and her mouth parted involuntarily.

Then she became aware of the lacy fabric of her bra falling away from her skin; he’d unfastened it with one hand, so deftly she hadn’t even realised what he was doing. And now her breasts were spilling into his hands; he cupped them, lifting them slightly, teasing her nipples with his thumb and forefinger and making her quiver with arousal. From the hard pressure through his jeans against her thigh, she knew that he was just as turned on.

‘I love having you sitting on my lap,’ he whispered, ‘but it isn’t enough for me, Bel. I need more. Now. I need to touch you. Taste you.’

She needed it, too. ‘Yes.’

Gently, he shifted her off his lap and lay her back against the pillows. Kneeling between her parted thighs, he dipped his head, took one nipple into his mouth and sucked.

Oh, Lord.

So many sensations at once.

The soft silkiness of his hair against her skin, contrasting with the beginnings of spiky stubble on his face. The movement of his tongue and lips. The warmth of his mouth. The pressure of the suction. The tingling that started in her nipples and seemed to flood through every nerve-end.

‘Oh, yes, Alex,’ she whispered, arching her back against the softness of the duvet. She slid her hands into his hair, wanting more.

He lifted his head a fraction and looked up at her, his eyes dark in the candlelight. ‘Do you like that?’

‘Yes.’ The word came out slurred with pleasure.

‘Good. So do I.’ He paid attention to her other nipple, teasing it with his teeth and his tongue until she was wriggling, then slowly kissed his way down her abdomen. ‘I wish you were wearing a skirt.’

‘Why?’

‘Because these are in the way.’ He stroked his hands down the denim of her jeans, then slid one hand between her thighs, cupping her sex through her jeans. ‘If you were wearing a skirt I’d be closer than this.’ He rubbed one finger along the seam of her jeans, pressing against her clitoris. ‘Much closer.’

And right now she needed him much closer. She shivered. ‘Alex. You’re driving me crazy.’

‘That’s the idea.’ He shifted back onto his haunches, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on hers as he undid the top button of her jeans.

They were getting nearer and nearer the point of no return.

Slowly, slowly, he lowered the zip. The air felt cool against her heated skin, and she shivered.

‘Cold?’

‘And hot,’ she admitted.

‘Good.’ He leaned forward and kissed the skin he’d just uncovered. ‘And you’re going to get hotter still by the time I’ve finished with you.’

And wet.

God, she was wet. So ready for him.

Gently, he encouraged her to lift her buttocks, and pulled her jeans down over her hips. He made short work of removing them after that, taking off her socks at the same time so she was left wearing only a tiny pair of knickers. He looked at her, lying against the pillows, and sucked in a breath. ‘Wow. How come I never noticed you’re a pocket Venus? All curves.’

Curves. She flushed and wrapped her arms round herself.

He groaned. ‘I didn’t say “fat”.’

‘I am compared with the stick insects you normally date.’

‘I might date them,’ he said softly, ‘but it doesn’t necessarily mean I sleep with them. And, for the record, I happen to like curves. And yours are gorgeous.’ He slid the tips of his fingers underneath hers. ‘Don’t be shy with me. I want to see you, Isobel.’ Gently, he prised her hands away from her body. ‘You’re lovely.’

She dragged in a breath. ‘This isn’t fair. You’re still wearing your jeans.’

‘I’m all yours, honey. Do with me what you will.’ He spread his hands in invitation.

It had been a long, long time since she’d played this sort of game with anyone. Towards the end, with Gary, sex had been primarily to make a baby, not an expression of love. And when that had all gone wrong…

‘Touch me, Bel,’ he said, his voice sinfully inviting.

Isobel reached out and undid the top button of his jeans. And the next. And the next. She could feel his erection straining against her fingers as she continued unbuttoning his fly. What was sauce for the goose, she thought with an inward smile, and traced the outline of his penis with one fingertip.

He shivered. ‘I think I should warn you not to tease me.’

‘Is that a threat?’

He shook his head. ‘You can tease me as much as you like, later. But I want this first time to be for you.’ He took her hand and kissed it, sucking each fingertip in turn.

The movement of his mouth against her skin made the pulse beat hard between her legs. If he could make her feel like this just by playing with her fingers, what was it going to be like when he touched her more intimately?

She sat up again and pulled his jeans down over his hips. On impulse, she pressed her mouth against his abdomen.

He groaned. ‘I warned you about teasing me.’ He rolled to one side and ripped off his jeans and socks, then joined her on the bed.

‘I half expected you to go commando.’

He laughed. ‘No. ‘Then his expression went serious. ‘Bel, just for the record, I don’t sleep around. I date a lot, I have a good time, but I’m fussy about who I take to bed. And in the past I’ve always used protection.’

She nodded, appreciating his candour. And she believed him absolutely. ‘I haven’t—’ she dragged in a breath ‘—slept with anyone since I split up with Gary.’ Two years. More, if you counted the last disastrous months of her marriage. She’d dated a couple of times but she’d never gone further than a goodnight peck on the cheek.

He stroked her cheek. ‘Then we’ll take this slowly.’

He was going to stop? Now?

She must’ve said it aloud, because his eyes darkened. ‘I’m not going to stop, Bel.’ His voice was deep and husky and sexy as hell. ‘And, as much as I feel as though I’m going to implode if I’m not inside you in the next nanosecond, I want this to be good for you.’

He wanted her that much? Oh-h-h. ‘I need you inside me, too,’ she whispered. And she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt that needy. The last time she’d wanted sex for its own sake and not to make a baby.

Gently, Alex removed her knickers and slid one hand between her thighs. She felt the long, slow stroke of one finger against her sex, a movement that had her quivering and needing more. As if he could read her mind, he did it again. And again.

‘This is taking it slowly?’ She could hardly get the words out.

‘Uh-huh.’

‘You’re driving me crazy, Alex. I want …’

‘This?’ He pushed one finger inside her.

She gasped. ‘Yes.’ The word came out as a hiss of pleasure.

He continued circling her clitoris with his thumb, and she wriggled against him, wanting more.

‘You’re so warm and wet for me,’ he whispered. ‘Just how I want you.’

‘Alex. Now. Please,’ she said huskily. ‘I need … I want …’ Why couldn’t she even string a sentence together? She was never this inarticulate.

He smiled. ‘Guess what? I want you all the way back.’ He stripped off his jockey shorts, then took a condom from his discarded jeans and rolled it on before kneeling between her thighs again and kissing her. She felt the tip of his penis nudge against her entrance—and then he was inside her with one long, slow, deep thrust.

She shuddered.

He stilled, letting her body adjust to his. ‘Are you all right, Bel?’

‘Yes—I just wasn’t expecting this to … Oh-h-h,’ she said as he began to move again.

She could feel the pressure growing, warmth curling at the soles of her feet and spreading up through her body into ripples, then waves.

She’d known Alex would be good at this—Alex was good at everything he did—but she really hadn’t expected it to be this good, taking her to a completely different world.

‘Bel,’ Alex demanded softly. ‘Look at me.’

She opened her eyes—and saw the same wonder she was feeling reflected in his own eyes as her climax hit her.

It was a while before she could even think, let alone speak. And she was cradled in Alex’s arms, her head resting on his shoulder.

‘I think,’ he said softly, ‘that proves we’re pretty compatible.’

‘Yes.’ More than she’d ever expected.

He stroked her face. ‘So. We like each other. We have a lot in common. And the sex is good.’

She had a nasty feeling she knew where this was heading.

‘So how about we don’t burst anybody’s bubble?’ He shifted so he could kiss her lightly. ‘If we get married, it’s going to solve all the problems at a single stroke.’

No, it wasn’t. Because she was going to have to tell him about the miscarriages. ‘Alex—about the baby business …’

‘It’s fine.’ He pressed his forefinger lightly against her lips. ‘Stop worrying. I know you love your job and you’re good at it. I’m not expecting you to give it up. If we do have children, we’ll work something out. If we don’t, then we’ll carry on exactly as we are.’

He said that now, but how would he feel later?

‘It’s a win-win situation.’

Hardly. Because Alex didn’t love her. Which meant their marriage would be one-sided—and if he had any idea that she was falling in love with him, he’d back off straight away. He made no secret about the fact he considered himself allergic to love.

‘Bel. Stop panicking.’ He stole a kiss. ‘It’s going to be fine.’

‘Is it?’

He smiled. ‘I think I’m going to enjoy spending the rest of today proving it to you. Very, very slowly.’

Her face felt hot. ‘Alex!’

‘I’m going to get us something to eat.’ He climbed out of bed. ‘Stay put. And I mean it, Bel. No worrying. This might just be the best idea either of us has ever had.’