Читать книгу New Year, New Man - Laura Iding - Страница 19

NICK lay stretched out next to Sarah’s sleeping form, his hands linked behind his head, his body temporarily sated but his mind not even remotely at peace.

It wasn’t working, his plan to burn out his lust for Sarah. It seemed the more he had her, the more he wanted her.

Thirty-six hours had passed since their arrival, with their hardly leaving the master suite, except for food and the occasional dip in the pool.

Nick’s flesh began to stir once more as he recalled their erotic encounter by the pool last night, not to mention the wildly passionate one in the kitchen this morning.

Sarah had confessed afterwards she’d never had sex whilst sitting on a granite bench-top before. Or sitting anywhere, for that matter.

It seemed her sex life so far had been limited and unimaginative, a fact that Nick found surprising, yet primally satisfying. He was beginning to understand why some men married virgins. There had to be something intensely pleasing about being a female’s first lover.

At the same time, Sarah’s lack of sexual experience troubled him. Young, naïve girls like her fell in love so very easily.

Though she’d never said she loved him, he’d seen adoration in her lovely but very readable eyes. Seen it, and wallowed in it.

Was that the reason behind his growing addiction for her? Not the sex so much but the way Sarah made him feel whilst he was making love to her?

How would it be to always have her in his bed? he began to wonder. To put his ring on her finger? To legally bind her to him?

Crazy thoughts, Nick. Crazy.

Shaking his head, he rolled over and propped himself up on one elbow to stare down at her, his eyes roving hotly over her lusciously naked body. Before he knew it he was touching her again, waking her, wanting her. He groaned when she opened her arms to him on a sigh of sweet surrender.

Say no, damn you, his mind screamed as he plunged into her.

But she didn’t.

Sarah crept from the bed, lest she wake Nick. Night had fallen and he was sleeping soundly at long last.

Pulling on her lavender satin robe—her only item of clothing as yet unpacked—she made her way quietly out to the kitchen, where she began to search the large freezer for something substantial to eat. During the past two days they’d only eaten enough to survive—mostly toast and coffee—and Sarah was suddenly feeling ravenous.

Half an hour and two microwaveable meals later, Sarah carried a second mug of coffee into the living room and curled herself up in a corner of the blue sofa. She sighed as she sipped, only then allowing herself to think about what they’d been doing since they’d arrived on Happy Island.

So much for her saying this holiday was not going to be just a sex-fest!

Truly, she should put her foot down and demand that they leave the house occasionally. It wasn’t right to just loll around, having sex all the time.

Sarah pulled a face. Maybe it wasn’t right, but it felt good. She felt good. Better than she’d ever felt.

But enough was enough, she decided. Come tomorrow, she would insist on their getting dressed and going out somewhere.

Hopefully Nick would not make a fuss, or start seducing her again. Her head whirled at how good he was at doing that. And how successful. She just couldn’t seem to say no to him.

But she would, come tomorrow morning.

Easier said than done, Sarah thought ruefully. He only had to roll over and start touching her, and she was a goner.

Maybe she should spend the rest of the night out here on this sofa; it was big enough to sleep on.

Whatever, she didn’t need sleep for a while. After her eating binge, she was wide awake. Watching television was not an option, however. The noise might wake Nick. Maybe she would read for a while. There were a few paperbacks on the shelves that flanked the large built-in entertainment unit.

Sarah put down her coffee and made her way across the tiled floor. There was only one title that appealed, called Dressed to Kill, the back blurb promising a page-turning thriller with twists and turns and a spine-tingling climax.

Sarah’s spine certainly tingled when she opened it and saw the handwritten name on top of the first page.

Chloe Cameron.

Her mouth went dry as she stared down at that hated name, her head filling with a hundred horrible thoughts, the main one being that Nick had lied to her. Chloe had been to Happy Island with him—how else would this book be here? Nick was not a reader.

Various repulsive images popped into Sarah’s mind. Of Nick having sex with Chloe by the pool and on the kitchen counter. Of his doing all the things with Chloe that he’d done with her.

The hurt was overwhelming. So was the humiliation. What a fool she’d been to be so easily tricked! A besotted fool!

But no more.

Gripping the book tightly in both hands, Sarah marched back into the bedroom, snapping on the overhead light, then slamming the door with deliberate loudness.

Nick woke with a start, blinking madly as he sat up. Sarah’s glowering at him from the side of the bed brought confusion, then a jolt of alarm.

‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

She threw something at him. A book. It struck his bare chest before he could catch it, tumbling down into his lap.

‘You said you’d never brought her here,’ Sarah bit out. ‘You lied, you bastard.’

The penny dropped for Nick, as did his stomach.

‘It’s not what you’re thinking,’ he defended.

Her laugh had a hard, hollow sound to it. ‘And why’s that, Nick?’

‘I didn’t have sex with her.’

She laughed again. ‘You expect me to believe that? Mr I-have-to-have-it-ten-times-a-day!’

‘Chloe was sick, with food poisoning. She spent the whole weekend in bed in the guest room.’

Sarah crossed her arms, her expression scornful. ‘If that’s the truth, why didn’t you tell me?

‘I’ll tell you why,’ she went on before he could say a single word. ‘Because that might not have got you what you wanted, which was stupid me, filling in for Chloe on this holiday. Better to let the silly little fool think she’s unique and special. Make her believe your inviting her to come with you here is a one-off. Whatever way you look at it, Nick, you lied to me for your own selfish ends.’

Nick was not at his best when backed into a corner. He always came out fighting.

‘And you haven’t done the same?’ he counter-attacked. ‘I seem to recall your telling me in my study on Christmas Day that all you wanted from me was sex. Obviously that wasn’t the truth, was it? You want what you’ve always wanted: marriage. That’s why you’ve been so damned accommodating all the time. And why you’re so upset right now!’

Her face flushed with a shaming heat, her hurt eyes making him feel totally wretched.

‘If that’s what you really think, Nick,’ she choked out, ‘then I can’t stay here with you. I just can’t.’

In all his life, Nick had never felt so dreadful. Even when he’d been in jail. But it was for the best, wasn’t it? He was no good for her. Better they call it quits now before she got even more hurt.

‘If that’s what you want,’ he snapped.

‘What I want…’ She shook her head, her shoulders slumping as a soul-weary sigh escaped her lips. ‘I’m never going to get what I want. Not with you. I can see that now.’ She straightened, putting her shoulders back and lifting her chin up. ‘I’m sorry for throwing that book at you, Nick. Generally speaking, you have been honest with me. Quite brutally at times. I just didn’t want to hear what you were saying.’

Now Nick felt even worse, his heart like a great lump of iron in his chest. The temptation to jump up and take her in his arms was almost overwhelming. He wanted to tell her that he was the sorry one, that she was unique and special and that he did want to marry her.

But he resisted the temptation. Somehow.

‘I…I’ll move my things into one of the spare bedrooms for tonight,’ she went on, her eyes glistening. ‘Then first thing tomorrow I’ll see if I can get on a flight back to Sydney.’

‘Fine,’ he said, and threw back the sheet. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom.’