Читать книгу To Claim His Mistress: Mistress at a Price / Mother and Mistress / His Mistress's Secret - Сара Крейвен, Sara Craven - Страница 8

CHAPTER FOUR

AFTERWARDS, Cat lay, held close in his arms, absorbing the small ripples of delight that still assailed her, like the aftershock of an earthquake, with tears running down her face.

‘My darling,’ Liam said softly, kissing her wet eyes. ‘My clever angel. Don’t cry.’

Her voice trembled. ‘I never knew it could be like that—never dreamed…’

‘I knew,’ he told her gently. ‘From the first moment that we looked at each other, I knew.’

She sighed. ‘Maybe I’m not as sophisticated as I thought.’

‘So I discovered.’ There was a wry twist to his mouth as he stroked her cheek. ‘Along with the fact that Cat the Tigress does not take her claws to bed. You’re quite an enigma, my love.’

‘Is that better than being a male fantasy?’ she queried sleepily, her head tucked into the curve of his shoulder.

A laugh shook him. ‘Just different.’ He added softly, ‘But I think you’ll still be fulfilling my fantasies long after I’ve solved the mystery.’

She barely heard him. She was already drifting, heavy-lidded, into sleep. Sinking down through waves of contentment into a haven of dreamless rest.

When she awoke it was daylight, and fitful sunshine was glancing into the room through the open curtains. And she was alone in the big bed, with the covers drawn neatly over her.

What was more, she was once again wearing the nightgown she’d discarded a few hours previously, she realised, touching the soft fabric with disbelieving hands.

As she sat up and looked round the room Cat experienced a curious sense of disorientation. Because there was simply no sign that the room had ever been occupied by anyone but herself. Even the pillow beside her was plumped up and pristine.

Had the events of last night simply been a figment of her imagination? A kind of wish fulfilment? Could she have only dreamed Liam, and the rapture she’d found with him?

No, she thought, her body quickening with excitement. That wasn’t possible. Her senses were still basking in the afterglow of his lovemaking.

And her last memory was breathing the scent of his skin as she lay with her head on his shoulder and her face turned towards the curve of his neck.

Broodingly, Cat drew her knees up to her chin, her mouth tightening.

Falling asleep in his arms had not been part of the plan—if, of course, she’d ever had a plan. Somewhere along the way she’d been hijacked, all her good intentions blown to the four winds.

But sharing her bed for an entire night had always seemed to her to be a dangerous step towards sharing her life. There was an ocean of trust implied in abandoning one’s consciousness in the presence of another person, and it was something she’d always avoided in the past, offering some light and credible excuse—she had an early start in the morning, or she was a poor and restless sleeper. Anything that would send them on their way and re-establish her privacy, her inviolability.

On the other hand, how did she know he’d spent the night with her? After all, she had no idea when he’d decided to leave, not when she’d been so dead to the world that he’d been able to dress her in her nightgown without waking her, for heaven’s sake.

She bit her lip hard. It seemed ridiculous to jib at that when there was not one inch of her body that he had not caressed and kissed with such passionate skill and artistry. When she’d not just accepted all the intimacies of their lovemaking but gloried in them. Yet somehow having her gown replaced when she was asleep and helpless seemed a familiarity too far.

However, it seemed unlikely she would ever be able to take him to task about it, she told herself. Because he was probably no more committed to the idea of a relationship than she was herself. And maybe the way he’d erased all signs of his presence was his version of goodbye, avoiding all excuses or explanations.

She’d set herself up, she thought with sudden bleakness, for a one-night stand. So she could hardly complain that Liam had taken advantage of that—and of her. Or that he’d walked away afterwards.

Cat bent forward, resting her forehead defeatedly on her knees and squeezing her eyes so tightly shut that they hurt. At the same time she was aware that no physical pain could even compete with the small, bewildered ache deep within her. Or the inexplicable sense of loss.

A sudden rap at the door had her shooting upright, her whole body tense, her mouth dry.

‘Who—who is it?’ she managed.

‘Room service, madam.’ A woman’s voice. ‘Your breakfast.’

A key rattled in the lock and she came in, middle-aged, brisk and efficient in a striped overall, carrying a tray. Swiftly she unfolded its supporting legs and placed the tray across Cat’s lap.

Cat, bewildered, was confronted by fresh orange juice, warm croissants in a basket, with dishes of honey and black cherry jam, and a tall pot of coffee. And a single red rose in a narrow crystal vase.

She hadn’t ordered any food, but maybe breakfast came with the room—and she couldn’t deny that she was hungry, she thought, as she thanked the woman with a smile and unfolded her napkin. Besides, she had the journey back to London ahead of her, and she had no wish to undertake it on an empty stomach.

Although there was nothing she could do about the strange void which seemed to have opened up inside her where her heart should be.

Don’t even think like that, she adjured herself with sudden fierceness. It’s irrelevant. You’re not looking for a soulmate but a lover, for the occasional night of mutual passion and fulfilment, and in that respect Liam could have been the answer to your prayer.

But he’s gone, so you’ll just have to forget the ‘might-havebeen’ and continue the search elsewhere—one of these days.

And, with a determined nod, Cat applied herself to her breakfast.

The meal over, she repacked her case, leaving out only a change of underwear and the clothes she’d worn the previous evening, then went into the bathroom to have a shower.

She stood for a while, eyes closed, under the powerful cascade, relishing its sting against her flesh, then reached for the soap.

But someone was there before her.

‘Allow me,’ Liam murmured, sliding warm arms around her and drawing her back against him.

Cat yelped, her heart banging against her ribcage in shock. ‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded raggedly as she started to breathe again.

‘I came to wish you good morning,’ he said, deftly taking the soap from her unresisting hand and making it into a lather. He began to apply it slowly and gently to her damp skin, making little circular movements, covering her breasts, belly and thighs with the creamy foam.

Cat felt an almost drugging weakness begin to invade her senses under his ministrations, and realised that if he hadn’t been holding her she would probably have slid limply to the floor of the shower.

‘But I’m not going to ask if you slept well, because I know you did,’ he added softly in her ear.

‘Yes.’ It was barely more than a croak. Her head fell back against his shoulder as the delicate movements of his hands shifted to a more intimate dimension.

‘But now…’ his lips found the sensitive spot beneath her ear ‘…now you’re awake again.’

Her only answer was a sigh, as Liam discarded the soap and began to caress her breasts, teasing the excited nipples with his fingertips. She could feel the pressure of his arousal, and moved against him with deliberate provocation.

His reaction was immediate. He turned her to face him, his mouth seeking hers hotly and without reserve, then lifted her in his arms and brought her down to him, his wet, slippery body joining effortlessly with hers in one swift act of possession.

Cat clung to him, mouth locked to his, her arms round his neck and her legs twined round his waist, her whole self attuned to the burning rhythm of his powerful thrusting. Her own response was ardent and complete.

When the first tiny tendrils of pleasure began to uncurl inside her she gasped against his lips, but as the sensations intensified, and she felt all control sliding away, she gave a small, frightened cry.

‘Don’t fight me, darling.’ He muttered the words hoarsely into her mouth. ‘Just—let go.’

The breath sobbed in her throat as she obeyed, and felt the first fierce shaft of ecstasy piercing her to the soul. She could hear herself moaning in a kind of delirium as her body seemed to dissolve in one rapturous convulsion after another, and was aware of him shuddering against her as his body found its own powerful release.

She was still clinging to him, sated, exhausted, when he turned off the water and lifted her out of the cubicle. He grabbed a bath sheet from the rail and flung it round them both as he carried her into the bedroom.

When she could speak, she said, with a kind of wonder, ‘Is that—really how you say good morning?’

They were lying on the bed together, still wrapped in towelling, as well as each other’s arms.

Liam kissed her gently on the mouth. ‘Indeed it is,’ he murmured. ‘Also goodnight, and on really lucky days good afternoon, too.’

‘My God,’ she said faintly. She moved back a little, studying him. ‘How did you get in here, anyway?’

‘The chambermaid left the door open for a moment when she came for your tray.’

‘How—extremely fortunate.’

‘Indeed,’ he said gravely. ‘I must remember to leave her a generous tip.’

‘I thought you’d—simply gone.’ Now, why had she said that? Cat wondered with vexation. It sounded really needy. And that was the last impression she wanted to convey.

‘No,’ he said. ‘That was never part of the plan. As you should know by now. I merely thought it would be more discreet if I had breakfast in the restaurant, that’s all.’

‘Yes,’ Cat said. ‘Of course.’ She began to disentangle the bath sheet, and his hand shot out and captured her wrist.

‘Hey, where are you going?’

‘I have to get dressed,’ she said. Because it’s far too beguiling, lying in your arms like this. I could get to enjoy it far too much, and I can’t afford to do that. It’s too dangerous. ‘Besides,’ she added quickly, ‘this towel is getting clammy, and the chambermaid could come back.’

‘The door is locked,’ he said. ‘And I hung the “Do Not Disturb” sign outside.’

‘You were very sure of your welcome.’ She introduced an austere note.

He grinned at her. ‘Not at all. Just—hopeful.’

‘But we can’t stay here,’ she said. ‘There’s a check-out time.’

‘And you have to get back to London.’ He sighed. ‘If you insist on putting your clothes on, could you walk round the room without them a couple of times? I want to check if my photographic memory still works.’

It was ludicrous, after what had happened between them, but Cat felt herself blushing.

She made her voice sound light as she reached for her clothing. ‘I think we both have enough memories to be going on with.’

‘Spoilsport.’ Liam lay back, watching her, his head pillowed on his folded arms. ‘I’m going back to London too,’ he said, after a pause. ‘Which makes it convenient.’

‘In what way?’ Cat zipped herself into her skirt.

‘In that I won’t have to travel from one end of Britain to the other when I pick you up for dinner tonight,’ he returned.

There was a long silence. Cat’s hands fumbled on the button of her waistband, then reached for her top and dragged it over her head.

Liam studied her, brows slightly raised. ‘You don’t object to that, I hope?’

She said slowly, ‘You don’t know where I live.’

‘But I’m relying on you to tell me,’ he said. ‘Address, telephone, fax, e-mail, date of birth, favourite flower—every last detail that you wouldn’t tell me last night.’

She touched dry lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘I—I don’t think I want to do that.’

Liam threw off his share of the towel and stretched indolently, making her sharply aware of every lean, suntanned inch of him. ‘Then I shall have to rely on my powers of persuasion.’ He held out his hand, his smile wickedly enticing, making the breath catch in her throat. ‘Come here, darling—please.’ His voice was husky.

She felt her pulses begin to race. Experienced the first stirrings of that delicious melting sensation all over again.

Realised how much she wanted to do as he asked—how desperately she ached to go to him and allow herself to be drawn down into his arms.

Into his arms and into the trap, she reminded herself with sudden force. Lured there by the possibility—the dream of a shared future.

Forgetting how starkly the past twenty-four hours had demonstrated how the dream could turn to nightmare. The harsh evidence from her own family circle.

You begin as strangers, she thought, then you allow yourself to be seduced—confused by passion into believing that this time it will be different—eternal. But when passion dies you’re strangers again, with all the hurt and bitterness that implies. And the loneliness.

The image of Aunt Susan sitting alone, a silent statue amongst the post-wedding clutter, came into her mind. And for some reason that odd expression on her father’s face as he watched her mother catch Belinda’s bouquet. Even Belinda, putting a brave face on the humiliation she’d suffered on what was supposed to be her great day.

‘Cat?’ Liam was sitting up, his brows drawn together in a frown. ‘Cat—what is it? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’

‘Do I?’ She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘Liam—there’s something I have to say.’

His frown deepened. ‘My sweet, if you’re about to tell me that you’re married after all, then you’ve chosen a seriously bad moment.’

‘No,’ she said. ‘No, of course I’m not married. I told you yesterday that doesn’t feature in my plans—now or ever.’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘We both talked a lot of nonsense yesterday. But that was then. Last night changed everything. It had to. You must know that too.’

‘Perhaps,’ she said. ‘But not in the way you think.’ She paused. ‘What are your plans for the rest of the day—as a matter of interest?’

‘Nothing very extraordinary.’ The grey-green eyes were suddenly searching. ‘We both have our own cars, so I thought on the way back to London we could meet up in Richmond. There’s a good place to eat by the river.’

‘And afterwards?’

Liam shrugged. ‘We could go for a walk in the park. Talk to each other. Start getting properly acquainted. Unless, of course, you have a better suggestion?’ he added levelly.

‘Maybe not better.’ She shrugged. ‘Just—different.’

There was a silence, then Liam swung himself off the bed. ‘You got dressed to have this conversation,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m starting to think I should do the same.’

He walked over to the chair where his discarded clothes were piled and began to pull them on. It didn’t take long. He faced her in faded khaki pants, which closely hugged his lean hips and long legs, and a black V-necked sweater in thin wool, his bare feet thrust into loafers.

He said, unsmilingly, ‘So—what’s on your mind?’

Her whole body clenched in yearning as she looked at him. She swallowed.

‘I need you to know that everything that’s happened between us has been—wonderful,’ she began. ‘Last night was unbelievable—the most exciting of my entire life.’

Liam leaned a shoulder against the wall. ‘Thank you,’ he said. His eyes were guarded—watchful. ‘I think. For what it’s worth, I found it totally amazing too. And unforgettable.’ He paused. ‘But if you’re now about to tell me that this—brief encounter of ours is all there is to it,’ he went on grimly, ‘that you’ve decided for some reason to lock me out of Paradise, then I have to warn you, lady, that you’ve got a fight on your hands.’

‘No,’ she said. ‘That’s not what I mean at all. More than anything I want to go on seeing you.’

‘I’d like to feel encouraged by that,’ he said slowly. ‘But somehow I can’t. I wonder why?’

Cat decided to ignore that. She said, ‘Do you want to know why I found our time together so exciting?’

‘I thought it might be because we clearly wanted each other so desperately,’ he said. He shrugged a shoulder. ‘But what do I know?’

‘And because it was so unexpected,’ she said eagerly. ‘So—overwhelming. We met—we made love.’

‘I don’t recall it being quite that simple,’ Liam said drily. ‘But go on.’

‘One of the things that made it special was that we knew so little about each other. We weren’t bogged down in a lot of extraneous detail. We both knew what we wanted, and we went for it. It added an extra dimension—a kind of danger. Because we were free.’ She paused, giving his expressionless face an anxious look. ‘You must have felt that too.’

‘I think I was probably too sexually enthralled to dwell much on the philosophical ramifications,’ Liam drawled. ‘It’s a man thing. But I’m still listening.’

Cat was shaking inside suddenly, but she threw her head back with an assumption of confidence. ‘I don’t want to lose that excitement—that edge.’

‘You feel that could happen? You’re threatened by the prospect of lunch in Richmond?’ His smile did not reach his eyes.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I think it’s a risk if we get involved in things like that. In walks and talks and theatre trips. In meeting each other’s friends and all the usual banal stuff.’

‘I don’t consider my friends banal,’ he said. ‘I can’t, of course, speak for yours, but I’d have thought it unlikely.’

Cat gestured impatiently. ‘That was just an illustration.’ She paused. ‘But do you see what I’m getting at?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Liam said slowly. ‘At least, I hope I’m not. Maybe you should be more specific.’

She took a very deep breath. ‘I want to go on seeing you. I want us to be lovers, just as we’ve been here. Meeting on completely neutral territory. Not asking any questions or imposing any obligations. Just—enjoying each other.’

He turned and looked out of the window. He was very still, but Cat could sense the tension in him like a coiled spring.

‘And then parting?’

‘Well, yes,’ she admitted lamely. ‘Until the next time.’

‘So,’ he said. ‘That’s all you want from me? Sex in a series of hotel rooms just like this? Paid for by the hour?’

‘No,’ Cat denied swiftly. ‘It’s far more than that. Something completely separate from our everyday selves, and infinitely special. A private affair with a secret lover. Knowing each other’s names, but nothing else. Passion without commitment.’ She paused, wishing she didn’t have to speak to his taut back. ‘Doesn’t that turn you on just a little?’

Liam swung round, and Cat gasped and fell back, confronted by the blaze of anger in his eyes.

‘Frankly, no.’ His voice bit. ‘I think you must be out of your mind even to suggest it.’

‘Why?’ she flared in turn. ‘Because the idea’s coming from me—the female of the species—and setting up a discreet liaison is a male preserve? Isn’t that just a tad hypocritical?’

Two long strides brought him to her. His hands gripped her arms, the fingers digging into her flesh. His face looked stark, stripped to the bone. ‘You try to set me up as your tame stud and you expect me to be bloody pleased? What the hell do you think I am?’

She tried to pull away. ‘Liam—you’re hurting me…’

‘Hurting you?’ he said, his voice shaking. ‘My God, I’d like to—’

He stopped, biting his lip savagely, then released her with a contemptuous gesture, turning away from her again.

When he spoke again his voice was cool and even. ‘And when passion fades—what then?’

She hesitated. ‘Then we finish it, quietly and sensibly, like adult people.’

‘Ah, yes,’ he said. ‘Rather like putting down a wounded animal.’ He paused, looking back at her, his eyes hooded. ‘Tell me something—how many other men have been offered this enticing proposition, just as a matter of interest?’

She looked down at the carpet. ‘None,’ she denied quietly. ‘I—I thought I’d found the perfect lover at last—and I wanted to go on seeing you.’

‘But only in secret,’ Liam said with icy scorn. ‘And on your terms, at designated locations and specific times. Two anonymous bodies joining, then separating. Contact without contact. How incredibly romantic.’

Cat lifted her chin. ‘You can’t bear it because I’ve been honest with you,’ she accused. ‘Because I’ve made it clear I don’t want to get involved in a full-blown relationship. If the situation was reversed no doubt it would be perfectly acceptable. But because I refuse to be trotted out as the official girlfriend when you need someone to take to a party,’ she added heatedly, ‘or I balk at cooking meals for you at the weekends and taking your clothes to the dry cleaners, then I suddenly become a Grade A tart.’

‘I took you to bed, sweetheart,’ he said harshly. ‘That does not make you an authority on my domestic arrangements or necessarily a candidate for any kind of commitment on my part, whatever you may wish to think. You’re way ahead of yourself there.’

‘It was you,’ she said, ‘who mentioned lunch and a stroll in Richmond Park.’

‘That was my mistake.’ His tone grated across her skin. ‘It won’t be repeated.’ He walked across the room to the door, where he paused, looking back at her.

“‘The Cat that walks by herself”,’ he quoted with icy mockery. ‘I should have taken that nonsense more seriously.’

‘Liam.’ Her voice trembled, and she could taste the salt of tears in her throat. Tears that she refused to shed. ‘Don’t leave like this—please. Let’s talk about it. Let me make you understand. You see—I—I want you.’

‘That’s unfortunate,’ he said. ‘Because you can’t have me.’ He shook his head. ‘I just hope that you don’t find it too lonely out there, sweetheart—while you’re searching for my replacement.’

And the door closed behind him.

Cat stood rigidly, staring in front of her, her hands clenched at her sides.