Читать книгу Secret Heirs Collection - Кейт Хьюит, Коллектив авторов - Страница 41
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ОглавлениеJOANNA SAW MATT emerge from the palms beside the jetty.
He’d seen her, of course he had, she thought, her initial relief giving way to resignation. He was going to think she was the world’s biggest idiot. She should have told someone where she was going and stayed in the shallows. That would have been the sensible thing to do.
Matt’s voice echoed over the water. ‘Do you need any help?’
Joanna sighed. She wanted to say, I can manage, but she knew that wasn’t precisely true. Nevertheless, she shook her head and started swimming back towards the shore. It was only a little distance, she told herself. And, after all, what could Matt do?
She found out a few tiring minutes later when she was still a few yards out from the beach. She’d paused for a moment, trying to regulate her breathing, when she saw Matt tear off his shirt and plunge into the water.
His strong crawl brought him swiftly within range of her exhausted strokes, and she knew when he reached her there were tears in her eyes. ‘Thank you,’ she said, when he wrapped an arm around her waist. ‘I know I’m stupid.’ Then, defensively, ‘But I would have made it on my own.’
Matt made no comment about how unlikely that was or how stupid she’d been and she was grateful. Instead, he slicked back his hair with his free hand, and she found herself thinking rather foolishly how much she liked looking at him, even when her limbs were trembling with exhaustion and she badly wanted to cry.
His dark features seemed to have acquired a dangerous edge since he’d learned about the baby, and right now, although he hadn’t said anything yet, she knew he wasn’t pleased with her.
Which was a shame, because they’d been getting on so well. But the guarded gleam in his eyes warned of possible retribution to come.
Would she really have made it on her own if he hadn’t come to her assistance? That was something she didn’t want to think about right now. The fact was, she owed him, and she doubted he’d let her forget it.
It took an amazingly short space of time before Joanna felt shifting sand beneath her feet. Her toes touched the ground only briefly as Matt gained his feet. Then, turning, he swung her up into his arms. He carried her out of the water and up the beach, only halting when he’d reached the place where she’d left her belongings.
Joanna was suddenly inordinately breathless. But this time it wasn’t because of her swim. It was the muscled strength of the arm beneath her thighs; the bronzed hardness of his chest brushing sensuously against her breasts. The awareness of her own vulnerability in the face of someone so aggressively male.
It made her realise her tank top had ridden up exposing her midriff. Not the most alluring sight, she thought unhappily, but she couldn’t do anything about it now. All she knew was that Matt was staring down at her, the dark penetration of his heavy-lidded eyes making her wonder if he’d just tumbled out of bed.
‘What possessed you to swim so far out on your own?’ he demanded. ‘You always said you weren’t a strong swimmer.’
‘I’m not,’ she said unhappily. ‘Were you in town? Did Henry get in touch with you and tell you what I was doing?’
‘There wouldn’t have been much point in telling me if I’d been in town, would there?’ Matt asked reasonably. ‘Besides, it’s Henry who’s in town. It was Teresa who warned me what was going on. Callie came rushing over to the villa saying you’d disappeared.’
Joanna felt dreadful. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, aware that her voice was still shaky. ‘You can put me down now.’
But, God help her, being this close to him was both a pleasure and a torment. She couldn’t deny it any longer. Whatever he’d done, she still wanted to be with him. Surely it wasn’t just her chaotic hormones causing her to lose all resistance to this man. Regardless of their past mistakes, was she willing to begin again?
Was he?
When he lowered her feet to the sand, and her rounded belly slid the length of his muscular frame, desire got the better of her. Without giving it a second thought, she wound her arms around his neck, and brought her parted lips to his.
Matt stiffened instinctively. He might have suspected that, despite her denials, Joanna had never been indifferent to him. But in spite of the way she’d behaved since she’d been here, he’d assumed she was still planning on going back to England after the baby was born.
And he’d thought he’d accepted it, until today. Teresa had only had to knock on his door and tell him that Joanna had disappeared, for him to tumble out of bed and race madly to find her.
But what did she really want from him? Temporary consolation? And why in God’s name did he care? He had to remember it was she who’d wanted the divorce in the first place. Would things have been different if she’d succeeded in contacting him? If Laura Reichert hadn’t answered the phone when she rang?
He’d moved on, he reminded himself. Or he’d thought he had. He’d made a decent life for himself here. He had to remember that.
Joanna was staring at him now with anxious eyes. With her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers tangled in the damp thickness of his hair, this was where she wanted to be. But Matt had dragged his mouth away from hers and his hands had moved to her shoulders, closing almost cruelly over the tender sunburned flesh.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ he demanded, and the emotion in his voice was raw and painful to his ears. ‘If this is your way of thanking me for saving you, I don’t need it.’
He spoke almost brutally and Joanna’s lips parted in dismay. ‘It wasn’t meant to be a way of thanking you,’ she said tremulously. ‘What do you think I am?’
‘I don’t know, do I?’ retorted Matt, knowing he was being deliberately cruel. But he had to get away from her. It would be far too easy to succumb again.
His life felt as if it had been put on hold ever since he’d found out about the pregnancy. He’d told her he was determined to play a part in his son’s life, and he was. But in all honesty, knowing he still cared about her, getting her to spend the last couple of months of her pregnancy on Cable Cay had definitely not been the most sensible thing to do.
He had to keep his head, he told himself. Joanna was feeling lonely, that was all, and maybe a little hungry for affection, too. Well, he knew that feeling. Yet surely, he had more sense than to think that reckless sex with her would fill the hollow shell he’d become?
Nevertheless, there was something oddly erotic about a woman who was carrying his child. He was responsible for the life that was growing inside her. It was his seed that had changed her perfect life.
‘Okay, so if this isn’t gratitude, what is it?’ he asked harshly.
Joanna’s eyes filled once again with tears. And despite the heat of the sun on her shoulders, inside she suddenly felt as cold as ice. She pulled her hands from his shoulders and took a step back from him. ‘I’m sorry. Obviously, I’ve made another mistake.’
Joanna caught her breath, wrapping her arms about herself in an effort to restore some warmth to her body. She should never have started this, she realised unsteadily, but she’d been fool enough to think he must still care about her.
She would have brushed past him then. Her towel and the wrap she’d worn before her swim were only a few feet away, and she’d feel better with something to warm her. Something to hide, not just her bump, but her humiliation.
Matt caught her arm as she swung past him and brought her round to face him. ‘So what do you want now?’ he demanded, and she trembled in the grip of emotions too long denied.
‘I—I want you, Matt,’ she said, her voice low and defensive, and, with a muffled oath, Matt’s resistance collapsed.
With a groan of defeat, he reached for her, pulling her into his arms and covering her trembling lips with his. It was what he’d wanted to do, God knew, since he’d gathered her up out of the water. He’d been kidding himself that he could control the needs she aroused in him.
Joanna didn’t know how her legs continued to support her. The savage pressure of his mouth on hers had her clutching the waistband of his shorts with both hands. She clung to him helplessly, desperate to redeem herself. Anything to avoid subsiding like a sack of potatoes at his feet.
A reluctant shiver of anticipation made its way down her spine as he continued to kiss her. Her heart beat with a slow, heavy resonance, almost deafening to her ears. The beat thudded against his chest so that she was sure he must be able to feel it. And her skin, which moments before had felt damp and chilled, was now turning her blood to fire.
Matt lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers, an unwilling hunger in their depths. Then he bent his head again and took one burgeoning nipple into his mouth. His tongue circled the tender tip, so that it hardened instinctively. The thin fabric of her tank top was no barrier to his searching mouth.
With a low moan, she slipped the straps off her shoulders, exposing her breasts to his possessive gaze. She watched him as he ran his knuckles back and forth across the sensitive peaks, enjoying his quickening breathing, and saw the words of protest die unspoken on his lips.
‘So beautiful,’ he whispered.
She swallowed convulsively before saying weakly, ‘Are you sure this is what you want?’
‘I thought it was what you wanted,’ he responded roughly, and Joanna sucked in a breath.
‘You know it is,’ she said, unable to deny it, and with an oath of submission Matt picked her up and carried her into the shade of the trees.
Her towel made a makeshift couch and he laid her on it.
‘God, should I be doing this?’ he muttered. ‘I don’t know anything about these things. Will I hurt you?’
‘Don’t worry,’ she breathed, gazing eagerly up at him. ‘Believe me, I’m not made of glass.’
Without another word, he dropped his own shorts onto the sand and then stripped the panties of her swimsuit from her. When he was lying naked between her legs, she pulled his face down to hers to trace his lips with her tongue. Time spiralled; she was hardly aware of where she was any more. All she knew for certain was that this was where she’d longed to be.
His kisses grew harder, more passionate, until she was practically mindless with delight. Her hands slid down his chest to take his erection between her palms, her fingers threading through the nest of rough dark hair at his groin. She caressed him and whispered, ‘You used to like me to do this,’ and Matt’s answering groan was muffled against her throat.
Somehow, he dragged her hands away and parted her thighs with an unsteady hand. ‘God, Jo,’ he said. ‘You make me crazy. This is crazy, but I don’t want it to end.’
Her breath hitched with excitement as he bent towards her and then he was burying his face in the moist curls at the junction of her legs. He had barely to touch her, and she climaxed. Then his tongue stroked the tiny nub of her sex and she lost control again.
His fingers parted her, and she arched beneath him. She craved the feel of his hands, the hungry pressure of his mouth. ‘Please,’ she said, clutching his hair and dragging his lips up to hers. ‘I can’t wait any longer. I want you; I want you inside me. Now.’
Her voice was thick with emotion, and with a muffled oath he gave in to her demands. ‘Do you think I don’t want to be inside you?’ he asked, licking his lips, tasting her essence. ‘I’ve thought of little else since you came here.’
Joanna found that incredibly hard to believe. But Matt was leaning over her now, trying not to hurt her or the baby, and she was so wet and ready for him, he couldn’t hold back. With a feeling of total indulgence, he let his erection tentatively ease inside her. And as her muscles stretched to accommodate him, he pushed himself deeply into her slick sheath.
God, it was good. So good. Familiar, yet unfamiliar, and all the better for the months they’d been apart. The velvety feel of her muscles closing around him was incredible. She was tight, so tight, he was sure no other man had touched her. She’d been a virgin the first time he’d made love to her, and he felt as if he were making love to a virgin again.
Joanna wound her arms around him, the scent of her arousal enfolding him in a haze of passion. His mouth sought hers again, delighting in the sensuous battle of their tongues. Her breath was sweet, her words of pleasure erotic. They were like heaven to his ears, and he lost himself in sensual need.
He cupped the rounded curves of her bottom, lifting her to accommodate his throbbing shaft. Pressing forward, he filled her again and again, pleasure uncoiling inside him. She was so tight, so wet, and he wanted to share it with her; to share the satisfying sense of atonement that nothing else could replace.
His release was uncontrollable. As soon as he felt her body clenching around his shaft, he was forced to let go. His last coherent thought was the need to roll onto his side so he didn’t crush her. Before the irresistible pull of exhaustion dragged his tired eyelids closed.