Читать книгу Powerful and Proud: Beneath the Veil of Paradise / In the Heat of the Spotlight / His Brand of Passion - Кейт Хьюит - Страница 13
ОглавлениеMILLIE woke early, just as dawn was sliding its first pale fingers across the floor. She always woke early; quarter to five was usual. Yet, instead of bolting upright and practically sprinting to the shower, she woke slowly, languorously, stretching before she rolled over, propping herself up on one elbow to gaze at Chase.
He was fast asleep, his hair rumpled, his breathing slow and even. He looked gorgeous, and since he was asleep she let herself study him: the strong, stubbly angle of his jaw; the sweep of golden-brown lashes against his cheek. His lips were lush and full, his nose straight. The dawn light caught the golden glints in his close-cropped hair. Her gaze slid lower. He’d taken off his shirt. She’d seen his chest already, of course. He’d practically been shirtless the whole time she’d known him. Yet now she could study the perfect, muscled form; the sprinkling of dark-brown hair that veed lower, broad shoulders tapering to lean hips. The sheet was rucked about those hips, and she couldn’t tell what he was wearing underneath. Dared she peek?
‘Boxers, Scary.’
Her gaze flew back to his face. He was blinking sleep from his eyes and giving her the slowest, sexiest smile Millie had ever seen. Her heart juddered in her chest but she didn’t try to dissemble.
‘I was wondering. You seem like the type to sleep in the buff.’
‘Nope, I’m strictly a boxers man. Sleeping naked can create all sorts of awkward situations, like when your cleaning lady arrives a bit earlier than you expected.’
Her mouth curved. ‘You seem to have experienced a lot of awkward situations.’
‘It certainly makes life a bit more interesting.’
‘I’ll take your word on it.’
He reached out and touched her hair, his fingers threading through it. ‘Your hair’s not so scary when you’ve slept on it.’
‘It’s probably a mess.’
‘I like it.’ He tucked a strand behind her ear, then trailed his fingers along her cheek before resting his thumb on the fullness of her lower lip. ‘Those worry marks look a little better.’
‘Do they?’ Her heart had started the slow, thudding beat of expectation. They were both in a bed. Nearly naked. Had Chase removed her dress last night? She couldn’t remember, but she was wearing one of his tee-shirts. And nothing underneath.
Surely now...?
‘As enticing a prospect as that is, I think we’ll have breakfast first,’ Chase said, and Millie let out a huff of breath.
‘Stop reading my mind.’
‘It’s too easy. Every thought is reflected in your eyes.’
‘Not every thought,’ Millie objected. She knew she had some secrets and she wanted to keep it that way.
Didn’t she?
‘More than you think,’ Chase said softly, and he drew her towards him for a lingering kiss. It was the kind of kiss you had after you made love, slow and sated. It didn’t have the urgency she expected, that she felt. Because today was day three of her week’s holiday and since she’d met Chase time had started slipping by all too fast.
‘Soon,’ Chase murmured against her lips and she groaned.
‘Stop that.’
‘Actually, I think you kind of like it.’
She didn’t answer, because she knew he was right, even if the way he read her so easily was seriously annoying. She liked being known. ‘What are we doing today?’ she asked as she followed him out of the bedroom into the kitchen. Sunlight poured through the picture windows and Chase, still only wearing boxers, was reaching for the coffee grinder. Within seconds the wonderful aroma of freshly ground beans was wafting through the air.
‘I thought you could decide that,’ he said as he poured the ground beans into the coffee maker.
‘Me?’
‘Yes, you. You’re not just along for the ride, you know.’
‘I sort of thought I was. Your terms, remember?’
‘Exactly. And my terms state that today you decide what we do. Of course, I have the right to veto any and all suggestions.’
‘Oh, I see. Thanks for making that clear.’
‘No problem.’
What did she want to do today? As Chase got out fresh melon and papaya and began slicing both, Millie considered. What did she want to do with Chase?
‘I want to paint you.’
He paused, a mug in each hand, eyebrow arched. ‘Too bad your paints are in the rubbish bin, then.’
‘I can draw you,’ Millie said firmly, surprised by how certain she felt. ‘I brought charcoals too. They’re in my suitcase.’
‘So you’ve changed your mind about the painting thing?’
‘Technically I won’t be painting.’
‘You are such a literalist.’
‘Yes,’ Millie said quietly, and it felt like a confession. ‘I’ve changed my mind.’
Chase stared at her long and hard, and the moment unfurled, stretched between them into something that pulsed with both life and hope.
‘OK,’ he said. ‘Breakfast, and then you can draw. I assume you’d prefer a nude model?’
She laughed and shook her head. ‘You can keep your boxers on. For now.’
After a breakfast of coffee, fresh fruit and eggs Chase scrambled while Millie sat at the table and imagined just how she would sketch him, she fetched her paper and charcoals and they headed outside.
The day was warm, the sun already hot, although a fresh breeze blew off the sea. Millie had changed into a polo shirt and capris, and Chase had, on her instruction, put on a tee-shirt and shorts.
‘Are you sure you don’t want me nude?’ he said, sounding disappointed, and Millie shook her head.
‘Far too distracting.’
‘Well, that’s something at least.’
‘Just try to act natural.’
He gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘Whenever someone says that, you can’t act natural any more.’
‘Try.’
‘I bet you’re a real ball-breaker at work.’
‘That,’ Millie informed him, ‘is a horrible, sexist term.’
‘But you are, right?’ He positioned himself on the sand, hands stretched out behind him, legs in front. ‘This OK?’
‘Perfect.’ She found a comfortable spot just a little bit away and laid the sketch pad across her knees. After staring at Chase this morning, she realised how much she wanted to draw him, to capture the ease and joy of his body and face so she could remember it always.
So she could have something of him even when this week was over.
She swallowed, also realising just how much she was starting to care for him. Forty-eight hours—forty-eight intense hours—were changing how she felt. Changing her.
‘You going to put pencil to paper this time, Scary?’
‘Yes.’ Swallowing, she looked down at her paper, began to roughly sketch the shape of him.
‘So you haven’t been doing the art thing for a while,’ Chase remarked, gazing out to the sea so she should capture his profile. ‘Why did you stop?’
Millie hesitated. She knew she should remind him about the no-talking rule, but it seemed kind of pointless to keep at it now. She didn’t even want to. She could still control what she told him. ‘Life happened,’ she said. ‘I got too busy and drawing seemed kind of a silly pastime.’ And totally out of sync with her and Rob’s focused, career-driven lives.
‘And then you finally took a holiday and thought you might like to try again?’
‘Basically.’
‘So why did you throw out the paints when I first met you?’
‘All these questions,’ Millie said lightly. ‘You are so violating our agreement, Chase.’
‘But you’re answering them,’ he pointed out. ‘For once.’
She didn’t speak for a moment, just sketched faster and faster, the feel and look of him emerging from her charcoal. ‘I didn’t like how obvious it seemed,’ she finally said. ‘Like I was trying to find myself or something.’
‘Were you?’
She glanced up, the sketch book momentarily forgotten. ‘I’m not lost,’ she said sharply. ‘I’m not broken.’
‘You’re not?’ He still spoke mildly, yet she felt that spurt of rage anyway. Her fingers tightened around the charcoal.
‘No.’
‘Because I think you are.’
Shock had her fingers slackening again, and the charcoal fell to the ground. ‘How dare—?’
‘Why do you think you’re here, Millie?’ He turned to gaze at her and she saw a blaze of emotion lighting his eyes. ‘Why do you think you were willing to have this crazy, intense week? And not just willing, but needing it?’
‘I don’t need it.’
‘Liar.’
She shook her head, hating that he saw through her. Hating that she didn’t have the strength to deny it any longer. She was lost. Broken. And she needed this week with him; she needed him.
And he knew it.
He kept his gaze on her, assessing, knowing, and she hated that too. The raw honesty between them in this moment felt more exposing and intimate than lying naked on a bed with him had yesterday.
She reached for the dropped charcoal, her fingers closing around it even though she knew she wouldn’t draw any more. She couldn’t. She stared blindly at the sketch pad, her mind spinning, her heart thudding.
‘Our session is finished, I presume?’ Chase drawled, and Millie nodded jerkily. ‘And now you’re going to go all haughty on me, aren’t you? The Millie Lang armour goes up, and you get all scary and severe.’
‘You’re the one who calls me scary,’ Millie said through numb lips. Every instinct in her was telling her to run. Save herself, or as much of herself as she could. How had she let it get this far? Chase had been so clever at seducing her into an emotional intimacy she had never intended to give or reveal. Damn it, all she’d wanted was sex.
And they still hadn’t had it.
Maybe it was time to rectify that situation.
‘I’m not going to go scary on you,’ she told him, clutching her sketch pad to her chest. ‘But you did say I could decide what we did today, and now I’ve decided.’
‘And it’s not sketching?’ Chase still looked relaxed, still had his hands stretched out behind him like he was enjoying a nice morning in the sun.
‘No, it’s not.’ Her voice still rang out, strident, aggressive. It sounded strong, even if she didn’t feel it. ‘I’ll tell you what it is.’
‘I bet I could guess...’ Chase murmured and, furious that he still seemed to know her so well, she cut across him.
‘It’s sex. I want to have sex with you.’
Chase regarded her with lazy amusement, although he was far from feeling either lazy or amused. He knew Millie felt vulnerable and exposed, but damn it so did he. He hadn’t meant to say any of that. Lost? Broken? He could have been talking about himself. What the hell had he been thinking, getting that honest? That real?
He hadn’t been thinking at all. He’d just been acting on instinct, allowing the deep within him to call to the deep within her. And for a few charged seconds he knew they’d connected in a way that was far more powerful than anything they could do on a bed—or whatever surface they chose.
‘You want to have sex with me,’ Chase repeated. ‘Sometimes, Millie, you have a one-track mind.’
‘I’m serious, Chase. The whole reason we’re having this stupid fling is—’
‘Now our fling is stupid? I’m offended.’
‘You know what I mean. I started this because—’
‘You started it?’
‘Stop interrupting me!’
‘Because I’m the one who walked up to you on that beach, sweetheart. And asked you out.’
‘I’m the one who suggested we sleep together.’
‘I’ll concede that point, but that’s the only shot you’re going to call.’
She stared at him, her face white, her lips bloodless. What had scared her so much? The fact that he saw her need, or that she sensed his own? And how did she think sex was going to solve anything?
On second thought...
‘OK, Scary.’ Chase rose from the beach, turning his face so Millie didn’t see him grimace at the throbbing ache of his joints. It was getting worse. The new medication wasn’t helping as much as he’d hoped. Hell, he was as broken as she was. He just hid it better.
‘OK?’ she repeated uncertainly, the wind blowing her hair into tangles even as she clutched the sketch pad to her chest like it was a body shield.
‘OK, we’ll have sex. I think we’ve had a fair amount of anticipation, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’ She sounded uncertain. He wasn’t surprised. She hadn’t expected him to agree—well, guess what? Sex was probably the only place where he could make her let go of that all-too-precious control. Break the barriers she surrounded herself with, force her to be exposed and empty; only then could she be covered and filled.
Is that what you really want?
Yes. Certainty blazed through him, surprising him. He didn’t know more than that, wouldn’t look farther. No more questions.
Time to act.
‘Come on,’ he said, and reached a hand down to her. She took it gingerly, her eyes so heartbreakingly wide, her teeth sunk deep into her lower lip.
‘Where are we going?’
‘I told you I prefer to make love on a bed, right?’
‘Yes...’
‘Cold feet?’ he jibed softly, knowing she’d rise to that easy bait.
‘No! Of course not!’
‘Of course not,’ he agreed. Yet her hand was icy-cold and her slender fingers felt like bird bones in his.
He led her back inside, through the house and then right to his bedroom door. Turned to her as he still held that icy, trembling hand. ‘You’re scared.’
She opened her mouth to deny it, then stopped. ‘Yes.’
‘You’re thinking too much.’
‘I know.’
‘I think,’ Chase murmured, ‘I know a way to make you to stop thinking.’ He kicked open the door and pulled her into the bedroom.
Millie felt weirdly numb as she followed Chase into the bedroom. It looked the same as it had a few hours earlier, when they’d lain in that nice, wide bed and talked and teased each other.
It felt totally different now.
Her heart was thudding so hard it hurt. Her mouth was dry. Her legs felt like jelly. She didn’t think she’d ever felt this nervous before. Fizzing with both fear and a glorious anticipation. She wanted this, even if it scared her senseless.
Chase turned to her, his expression serious. Thoughtful. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back, waited for him to take over. Make her stop thinking.
He didn’t do anything. She opened her eyes. ‘What are you waiting for?’
He smiled. ‘Sorry, Scary, this isn’t the Chase Bryant Show.’
‘You want me to do something?’
‘I know you’d rather I just did everything, but since when have I ever let you have it easy?’
She let out a trembling huff of laughter. ‘Sorry. It’s... It’s been a long time.’
‘I kind of figured that out.’
She closed her eyes again, this time in embarrassment. With her eyes closed, she couldn’t see him but she felt him step closer, felt the whisper of his fingers as he brushed her cheek, tucked her hair behind her ear. ‘Telling you to relax isn’t going to do a thing, is it?’ She shook her head, felt Chase’s hesitation. ‘You sure you want to do this, Millie? You know you could back out now. I wouldn’t— Well, yeah, I’d mind, but I’d understand. This is big for you. And scary. I get that.’
A hot lump of emotion lodged in her throat. Speaking was impossible. She just shook her head, eyes still closed. She heard Chase’s soft breathing, felt his fingers gently brush her cheek again.
Finally she opened her eyes. He looked so concerned and tender as he gazed down at her that her heart seemed to seize up. Her emotions were fully engaged, much more than she’d ever intended or wanted. And, even though it terrified her, she knew bone-deep that she really did want this. She craved it. Not just the physical release, but the emotional intensity. Intimacy. How scary was that?
‘I might not be doing much,’ she whispered, ‘but I’m not trying to leave, am I?’
‘No. You’re not. And thank God for that.’ Slowly, deliberately, he drew her towards him, his hands cradling her face. Her heart pounded. This was it. He was going to kiss her, and then...
‘Stop thinking, Scary.’
‘I can’t help it,’ she groaned. ‘I can’t turn my mind off.’
‘I realise.’
‘I want to turn it off, Chase. I want to forget. I want to forget everything.’ Her mouth was a whisper away from his. He gazed down at her, his eyes warm and soft with compassion as his thumbs stroked her jaw bone.
‘But then you’ll just have to remember again.’
‘Just for a little while. I want to forget for a little while.’ She drew in a shaky breath. ‘Please. Make me forget. Make me forget everything.’
He smiled faintly even though she saw a shadow of concern in his eyes. ‘That’s kind of a tall order.’
‘You’re the only one who can.’ And she knew she spoke the truth. ‘Please. Whatever it takes.’
In answer he kissed her, his lips brushing hers once, twice, as if getting the sense of her before he suddenly delved deep and she felt that kiss straight down to her soul. Shocks of pleasure and excitement sizzled along her nerve endings and she surrendered to that kiss, kissing him back, hands curling around his shoulders, nails digging in.
Yet even as she surrendered her mind took a step back. She started thinking. It was as if that kiss had taken over every part of her body and mind except that one dark corner where the memories crouched, waited till she was vulnerable to attack.
You never kissed Rob like this.
You shouted at him before he left for the last time.
You didn’t kiss Charlotte goodbye. You didn’t even look at her.
‘Easy, Millie.’ She opened her eyes and realised she’d been standing rigid, her nails like claws in Chase’s shoulders.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘So am I.’ Gently he unhooked her hands from his shoulders. ‘You were doing some serious thinking there.’ Chase stared at her for a moment, and then he took her by the hand and led her to the bed. He stripped off his shirt and dropped his shorts. Millie blinked. She’d seen him naked yesterday, but he was still magnificent. Beautiful, everything taut and sculpted and golden-brown.
‘Now I’m naked,’ he said.
‘Clearly.’
‘You still have your clothes on.’
‘I’m aware.’
‘I’m going to take them off.’
Her heart turned over. ‘OK,’ she said. He’d seen her naked yesterday, but that had been her choice. Her action. Now, as she stood still and he reached for the buttons on her shirt, she knew it was his. She’d just relinquished a little bit of control, just as he wanted her to. As she wanted to, even if it was so incredibly hard.
Deftly Chase’s fingers undid the buttons on her polo shirt. ‘Raise your arms,’ he said, and she did. He slipped the shirt over her head, tossed it aside. Millie glanced down at the plain white cotton bra she wore; the straps were frayed. Why had she never indulged in sexy underwear? ‘We’ll leave that on for now,’ Chase said, his mouth quirking in a small smile. ‘I kind of like it.’
She practically snorted in disbelief. ‘You like my old, plain white bra?’
‘I know; weird, huh? But I’ve seen plenty of push-up monstrosities. This doesn’t pretend or hide.’ He touched her chin, tilting her face so she had to meet his gaze. ‘Unlike you.’
‘My bra is more honest than I am?’ she huffed.
‘Pretty much,’ he said, and undid the snap on her capris.
Millie’s breath caught in her chest as Chase slid them down her legs. His touch was feather-light and swift, hardly a practised caress. And yet she felt as if she burned where his fingers had so briefly touched her. He sank to his knees as he balanced her with one hand while he used the other to help her out of the capris, then tossed them over with the shirt.
She was in her underwear. Again.
And he was naked, on his knees in front of her.
She tried not to gulp too loudly as she gazed down at him, all burnished, sleek muscle. Slowly, so slowly, he slid his hands up her legs and then held her by the hips, his palms seeming to burn right through the thin cotton of her underwear as his fingers slid over her butt. She let out a stifled cry as he brought his mouth close to the juncture of her thighs and she tensed, anticipating his touch, fearing the intensity of her own response. But he didn’t touch her, just let his breath fan over her, and that was enough.
Her knees buckled.
She felt Chase’s smile and he stood up. ‘Better,’ he said, and she let out a wobbly laugh. Sensation fizzed inside her. The fear lessened, replaced by a warm, honeyed desire.
Then her mind started going into hyperdrive again, memories, thoughts and fears tumbling around like a washer on spin cycle.
‘Stop thinking.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Then I’ll have to help you.’
‘Yes.’ Please.
Wordlessly he tugged her hand and led her to the bed. Her mind was still spinning relentlessly, and she had a sudden picture of her bed back in New York, her and Rob’s bed, all hospital corners and starched duvet, and how she’d sank onto it when the phone had rung, and the police had told her there had been an accident...
‘Lie down.’
‘OK.’ She felt only relief that he was interrupting her thoughts. She wanted to stop thinking. Stop analysing. Stop remembering so much. Why did being with Chase make her remember? She’d spent two years trying not to think, and now the thoughts came fast and thick, unstoppable.
She needed Chase to stop them.
She lay on the bed and he knelt over her. Millie felt herself tense. ‘What are you—?’
‘Trust me.’
And she knew she did trust him. Amazingly. Implicitly. Yet that thought was scary too. Chase reached for something above her head, and she saw he’d taken the satin pillow-case from the pillow.
He took the pillow-case off the other pillow and Millie waited, arousal and uncertainty warring within her.
‘Care to tell me what’s going on?’ she asked as lightly as she could.
Chase slowly slid his hand from her shoulder to her palm, lacing her fingers with his own as he raised her hand above her head.
‘I’m tying you up.’
‘What?’ She thought he was joking. Of course he was joking. Then she realised he’d done it, and her hand was tied to the bed post with a satin pillow-case. She stared at him with wide eyes, totally shocked. Chase simply knelt there, smiling faintly, his eyes dark and serious. Waiting.
Waiting for her permission.
She drew in a deep, shuddering breath, her whole body intensely, unbearably aware. She had no room for thoughts. She said nothing.
He bent down and kissed her deeply on the mouth, another soul-stirring kiss that had her arching instinctively towards him.
And then he tied up her other hand. She lay there, her hands tied above her head, her body completely open to his caress.
Vulnerable.
This felt far more intense than anything that had happened so far between them, and she knew why Chase was doing it.
He was taking everything from her. Taking it all, so he could give.
All in.
Slowly Chase slid his hands across her tummy, over her breasts, reaching behind to unhook her bra. ‘Sorry,’ he whispered. ‘I do like it, but it had to go eventually.’
She still couldn’t speak. Especially not when he tossed the bra onto the floor and bent his head to her breasts, his tongue flicking lightly over her nipples. She arched again, her head thrown back, pleasure streaking through her like lightning—but still the thoughts.
My breasts are too small.
Rob never liked them.
I don’t deserve a man like this.
‘Still thinking, huh?’ He lifted his head and looked at her, his voice wry even as his eyes blazed.
‘Sorry,’ she whispered. She wanted him to help her forget, but maybe she couldn’t forget unless she first released the memories. Shared them.
The most terrifying thought of all.
‘Don’t be sorry.’
‘I want to stop thinking so much. Remembering.’
‘I know you do.’
‘Help me,’ she implored. ‘Help me, Chase.’
He gazed at her, his face suffused with both tenderness and desire. What a heady combination. She felt more for him in that moment then she ever had before, and then he took another pillow-case, folded it in half and placed it over her eyes. Millie gasped aloud. Chase waited, the pillow-case folded over her eyes but not tied.
She blinked, shocked and yet knowing she needed this. Chase was helping her, helping her in a way she’d never have expected. It was strange and scary, yet amazingly right.
‘OK?’ he asked softly and she nodded. He tied the blindfold around her eyes.
Millie lay there, trying to adjust to this new reality. Her world had shrunk to the feel, sound and scent of Chase. Her mind had no room save for the sense of him. Her body tensed in a kind of exquisite anticipation, waiting for his touch. Wondering where he would touch her, every nerve taut with glorious expectation as she lay there, helpless, hopeful and utterly in his control.
And then she felt his mouth between her thighs, right on the centre of her, and she let out a shudder of shocked pleasure. She had not expected that.
Her body writhed beneath him and she felt a pleasure so intense it was akin to pain as her body surged towards a climax. ‘Chase,’ she gasped, his name a sob. And then he stopped, taking her to the brink and no further, and she ached with the loss of him. ‘Chase,’ she said again, and this time it was a plea.
She could hear his breathing, ragged and uneven, and his knees pressed on the outside of her thighs. She felt his heat, knew he was right above her. Where would he touch her next?
She let out a long shudder, every sense sizzling with excitement.
And then he began to touch her, a blitz of caresses that had her so focused on the sensation she could not form so much as a single coherent thought. First a butterfly brush of a kiss on her wrist. A blizzard of kisses on her throat. Then he kissed her deeply on the mouth and she responded, straining against the bonds that had brought her to this moment. He kissed her everywhere, light, teasing kisses, deep-throated demands, bites, licks and nibbles. She cried beneath him, first out of pleasure and amazement and then something deeper.
Something inside her started to break.
She’d told him she wasn’t broken, and she hadn’t been. She’d been holding herself together, only just, her soul and heart a maze of hairline cracks and fissures. And now, under Chase, she shattered.
Pain and pleasure, joy and sorrow, erupted from the depths of her being in helpless cries that became wrenching sobs, her whole body shaking with the force of them even as she lay there, splayed open to him, everything exposed. Everything vulnerable.
‘Millie,’ he said, and his voice was full of love.
‘Yes,’ she choked. ‘Yes, Chase, now.’
Distantly she heard the rip of foil and knew Chase would finally be inside her. She’d never wanted anything so much, and yet she still gave a cry of surprise and joy when she felt him slide inside, fill her up.
She’d been so empty.
His arms came around her and Chase freed her so she enfolded her body around his, drawing him deeper inside as she buried her face in his neck and sobbed through her climax.
Chase surged inside her, deeper and deeper, and with his arms around her, holding her tightly and tenderly to him, he brought them both home.
