Читать книгу The Saxon Brides: Mistaken Mistress - Tessa Radley - Страница 13

Eight

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The heat that scorched through him at Alyssa’s offer turned Joshua’s lower body to fire. Bending his head, he took a bite of the strawberry she held. His teeth sank into the soft flesh of the fruit and instantly his mouth was filled with an assortment of flavours.

The succulence of the strawberry.

The sweetness of the chocolate.

The complexity of the Pinot Gris.

There was another flavour, too. The unmistakable spice of desire. Slowly he chewed, swallowed, then raised his head.

A hectic flush staining her cheeks, Alyssa quickly popped the remaining half of the berry into her mouth. Their eyes held. She swallowed. Joshua groaned and leaned forward.

His mouth closed over hers. She tasted sweet. Of fruit and juice and wine. He moaned, licking the soft inner skin of her cheeks, sealing her lips tightly with his lest any sweetness escape.

His head spinning, he finally lifted his head. He cradled her chin between his cupped hands and stared into her glowing eyes. “Was that good?”

She nodded.

“Tell me you want more.”

She hesitated. An unfamiliar emotion flickered in her eyes. “I want more.”

Satisfaction settled in him. She’d come with him for this. And he wasn’t objecting. Instantly Joshua wanted to take her mouth, slake his hunger for her. What was it about this woman? With one searing look, a couple of words and she made him throw all his customary caution to the wind. He’d had girlfriends … lovers … women that he’d easily kept at a distance while he waited for the right one. But no one like Alyssa. Never this hunger.

Why her? This woman could never be right for him.

His brother’s lover….

Alyssa Blake, the woman who had once before humiliated him in print. Compromised his reputation and Saxon’s Folly’s profits. And would do so again in a flash. A woman who took what she wanted, to get what she wanted. To desire such a woman was his folly.

He forced himself to slow down, told himself he was in control of his senses, his tight-wound body. Sure, he was. He told himself he could control this reckless desire as easily as he controlled a busy and successful vineyard, told himself that he could take his pleasure and watch her walk away later today with no regrets.

He almost believed it.

“So you want more.” He coupled the gentle taunt with a deliberate, measured smile and watched her breasts rise and fall as her breathing quickened. He picked up another strawberry. The strange colour of her eyes deepened. Clearly she’d expected him to kiss her, not feed her.

“Oh, no, my beauty,” he whispered softly. “We’re going to take this slowly.”

A trace of fear flitted over her face. If he hadn’t been watching her so closely, he wouldn’t even have seen it. And that was what concerned him most about Alyssa Blake. She wasn’t easy to read. He never knew what this woman was thinking. Hell, he still didn’t even know what had been behind her gate-crashing of the masked ball.

Why had she come to Saxon’s Folly?

To patch up a relationship gone wrong with Roland? And if so, then why the hell had she let him kiss her that night? If Heath hadn’t interrupted them … she would have made love with him. In his bed.

For revenge? Because Roland hadn’t done what she wanted? Except Joshua couldn’t forget how those kisses had sizzled. How could she have wanted Roland back … yet have kissed him with such abandon?

Was it possible that she had come to the ball intending to seduce him, the CEO of Saxon’s Folly Estate & Wines, hoping to get a scoop on the story she was after? The story that she now denied chasing….

Was that why she’d leapt at riding out here with him alone today? Had this been her intention all along? His head felt as if it was about to explode. His body, too, as her lips parted and he glimpsed the tip of a pink tongue. Without planning, his hand moved closer, the juice of the berry staining his fingertips. Joshua felt himself hardening as her lips closed over the fruit he held.

And why the hell was he hesitating? She was less than an arm’s-length away. Her pink tongue a hair’s breadth away from his fingers. If she wanted to seduce him … well, hell, he was more than willing. He craved her. Right now he didn’t care if he would regret it later … after she was gone.

He wanted her … would have her.

Every sexy inch.

“Taste good?”

Even to his own ears his voice sounded hoarse.

She nodded and her tongue ran over his fingers, licking off the sticky strawberry juice.

It was enough.

Joshua took that as consent. He placed his hands on her waist, and hauled her toward him. She landed in his lap with a gasp of surprise. She filled his arms with soft, womanly warmth, her curves fitting against the hard angles of his body. Exotic perfume clung to her skin, her hair. He inhaled sharply. She smelled of sweet strawberries, jasmine … and desire.

This time his kiss was careful. Joshua was conscious of stepping into the unknown as his tongue probed her mouth, tasting the sweetness within. Of the shifting boundaries between them. Their relationship wouldn’t—couldn’t—be the same again.

The want that swirled in his lower abdomen was strong and hungry. Astonishingly so. Joshua suspected that he was going to be thinking about Alyssa Blake long after she’d returned to Auckland … that this interlude would change him, even if he never saw her again.

He told himself that her leaving was for the best.

But his body didn’t agree.

She wriggled in his arms. Under his fingers, her top rode up. The smooth skin of her bare stomach was silken to his touch. The feminine feel of it tipped him over the edge. He pulled her closer, filling her mouth with the ferocious hunger that was building within him, threatening to explode, threatening to destroy everything he’d ever believed about women … about sex and desire … and love.

She didn’t hesitate. She kissed him back with everything he desired, her purpose clearly the same as his. To make love … and the hell with tomorrow. Her tongue moved under his … giving as much as he took … as much as he wanted. With a hoarse groan, Joshua rolled, taking her with him, mouths locked, landing on his back in the cushioning grass. Pulling her above him, he shoved his hands under her top and his fingers ran riot over her back. Around them the air was redolent with the pungent scent of sweet, crushed grass. And Joshua felt his tightly leashed control start to slip.

In a staggering moment he realised that the forbidden attraction he’d been fighting had taken over. It was stronger, more powerful than anything he’d experienced. He surrendered to its force.

Even as the relentless hunger took him, he knew he had to have her. Just once. Before he let her leave Saxon’s Folly.

Joshua’s torso was solid beneath her. She felt safe … not exactly loved … but certainly cherished. It felt like coming home.

“This is in the way,” Joshua murmured.

“This” turned out to be her T-shirt. Alyssa shifted, lifting herself so that he could push it up, then her breath caught as his hand slipped forward … further up … under her bra and touched her breast.

“Ah.” She sighed and her head fell forward against his shoulder.

His other hand fiddled with her bra clasp. It gave. Then his hands were cupping her, shaping her, holding her apart from him. Eager to help, to prolong her pleasure, she braced herself on hands planted on the grass beside his shoulders.

Another gasp—sharper this time—escaped her as his head lifted and his mouth closed on one nipple then the other. Then his fingertips took over from his mouth … massaging … until an achy sweet sensation pierced her.

A hand moved between their bodies in restless little circles over her stomach. Down. Under the waistband of her jeans.

She was panting now. The sound loud in her ears. Alyssa shut her eyes. Patterns danced across her eyelids. He touched her where she was already wet with wanting. Blood rushed through her ears. She felt as if she might pass out.

Then he was rolling again, and she lay flat on her back, while Joshua rose above her. Alyssa kept her eyes closed, focusing on the stroke of his hands as he ran them over the skin that his caresses had laid bare.

“You’re hot and soft.”

The throaty drawl was uttered against the bare skin of her belly.

His hand moved again. She heard the rasp of a zipper.

Alyssa’s eyes shot open. Ohmigod. “What are we doing?”

His lips curved, sensual, satisfied. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

His words shocked her. “What?”

Maybe it was what she wanted. But she hadn’t even admitted that to herself. How on earth did he know?

“That’s why you came here with me … to be alone.”

“You—” Words failed her. She pulled away from him, disappointment piercing her heart, and tugged her T-shirt down, uncaring that her bra was ruched up. Right now she wanted her breasts … her belly … covered.

“No need to be shy about it. We’re consenting adults.” The dark eyes simmered. “I have to admit it’s a huge turn on to be seduced by a woman who knows what she wants.”

“Knows what she wants … ?” Alyssa stared at him. The smoked salmon … the strawberries … the Pinot Gris. He thought she wanted … this. He’d planned it down to the last detail.

Damn, but she’d been dumb.

She covered her face. How could he have misunderstood so badly? “I wanted to come here because Megan said that Roland had loved it here … that it had been one of his favourite places.”

“Roland.” His tone was peculiar, flat, dead.

After a long moment she pushed her hair back and looked up at him. “Yes, because of Roland.”

He gave a laugh, but it held no amusement. “I thought you wanted something from me.”

She blinked. “Why would wanting something from you involve coming here alone and—” not making love “—having sex?” What kind of woman did he think she was, for heaven’s sake?

“Something you wanted enough to allow yourself to eat strawberries from my hand while your eyes promised me untold delights.”

Alyssa felt the flush start on her chest, spread up her face. But she forced herself to hold his gaze.

“Something you wanted enough to forget your lover.”

Her lover? Oh, yes, Roland.

She bit her lip at that. “And what was I supposed to want so much?”

“The big-break story. The insider’s report on whether we lie to our consumers.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. I told you I’m not doing that story.”

His intense, disquieting eyes stayed locked with hers. “So if you came on this ride today only because of Roland, why did you kiss me … respond to me … so convincingly?”

Alyssa gulped. How was she supposed to answer that? Tell him that he confused her? Bewildered her? Tied her up in knots? Made her feel emotions she’d never known?

No way was she handing him that much ammunition! He’d never believe her anyway. He’d think it was another seduction attempt. How utterly humiliating….

But his question hung in the air. Why had she kissed him … responded to him so wildly? Alyssa groped mentally for an acceptable explanation.

“Grief?” she offered at last.

“Grief?” He looked poleaxed.

Sorry, Roland. “Yes. Grief does strange things to people.” She was babbling now. She wanted to run away. Hide. “Everyone reacts differently. Being here—” she waved a hand at the waterfall “—thinking and talking about Roland set me off. I’m leaving today. I’ll never see you again. I didn’t think you’d mind. I mean, guys don’t take sex as seriously as women …” She stopped talking as anger ignited in his eyes.

“Didn’t think I’d mind? I suppose I shouldn’t care that it’s just my bloody bad luck to be the butt of my brother’s clandestine girlfriend’s lustful grief attack.”

Alyssa couldn’t think of any suitable response to that.

It was just as well that she was leaving.

Thank goodness she hadn’t agreed to do the story David had wanted her to do. If she stayed any longer, there was a very real danger that she was going to do something incredibly stupid … like fall in love with Joshua Saxon.

They headed home in silence. As the bush gave way to grassy fields, Alyssa scanned the surrounding countryside with nostalgic eyes. Even though she’d come with the express purpose of being closer to Roland, Alyssa knew she would never think of dense green bush and cascading water without remembering the tall, commanding man who rode beside her.

She cast him a sideways glance. A frown carved a deep furrow between his brows. She glanced quickly away before he could catch her looking at him, her silly heart in her eyes.

As they drew closer to the stable yard they heard a commotion.

“What the—” Joshua broke off as they were met by the sight of the black stallion racing up and down along his paddock fence, his tail held high like a banner and his nostrils flared so wide that the inner red tissue showed. In the adjacent paddock horses whinnied frantically, milling around in a tight bunch.

“What’s upset them?” Joshua nudged his horse into a trot.

Alyssa followed more slowly.

The black horse, still galloping along the length of the fence, slammed to a halt at the gate and trumpeted with rage. It was then Alyssa saw the two youths in the paddock, half concealed behind the trunk of a gigantic oak.

“Hey,” Joshua yelled.

The pair took one look at Joshua and ran across the field, vanishing round the back of the stables. A moment later an engine roared and a motorbike came racing out from nowhere.

“Look out!”

But Joshua’s warning came too late. The stallion came catapulting over the paddock fence, rushing headlong toward them. Breeze had gone rigid between her legs. Alyssa snatched at the mare’s mane. At the last moment the black horse swerved around Breeze, so close that Alyssa could smell his sweat, and galloped past, his iron-clad hooves ringing on the ground.

Unsettled by the motorbike, the enraged and screaming stallion, the mare shied violently to the side.

Alyssa lurched in the saddle. For a moment she thought she might stay on, but then she felt herself tossed skyward. She hung suspended in the air for a moment, conscious of the plunging distressed horse below her. Then she was spinning toward the ground, sound and colour rushing past.

“Let go of the reins.” It was a frantic yell.

Alyssa opened her hands. Breeze bolted free. The impact of the cobbles was bone-numbing. Alyssa sobbed with pain, which turned to fear as she discovered that she couldn’t breath.

“Lie still.”

Joshua’s voice boomed above her. His black boots came into her line of vision and then he crouched down beside her. She caught a glimpse of dark, worried eyes.

She gasped, trying to speak.

“Hush, you’re winded. Don’t talk.”

A moment later a sound escaped her throat. Agony.

“Does your head hurt?” His voice was urgent.

She shook her head again. “My back,” she sobbed.

He went white, his lips pale. “Don’t move. I’m going to call an ambulance.”

There was the sound of light feet running on the cobbles. Caitlyn? Joshua turned his head and barked out a terse order.

Then a fresh stab of excruciating pain stopped her thinking. “My hand!”

“Breeze must have stepped on you.” Joshua touched her fingers.

“Ouch!” She nearly blacked out.

He pulled his hand away. “The ambulance won’t be long.”

Alyssa was barely aware of the ride to the hospital as she shifted in and out of consciousness. But even as everything closed in and went dark, Alyssa knew that Joshua sat beside her, his eyes full of concern, never leaving her face.

After her examination in the emergency room had been completed, Joshua entered the curtained-off area where Alyssa lay.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

Terrible. She hated the hospital. The sterile smell, the hushed sounds all brought back the nightmare of Roland’s accident—of Joshua breaking the devastating news that her brother had died.

“Sore,” she said finally, coming back from the hellhole to find his gaze fixed on her face.

“They’ll operate on your hand soon. Is there anyone you want me to call?” Concern etched deep lines into his face. And there was something more. Something that made her heart tremble.

“To call?” she said stupidly, closing her eyes so that the gorgeous features with the misleading concern would go away. Joshua didn’t give a damn for her. He thought she was the kind of woman who seduced men for career gain. Allowing herself to build hopes on his concern for her would bring nothing but heartache.

“Your family. Your friends. To let them know what has happened.”

Her editor.

It reflected the barren state of her life that the only person who came to mind related to her work. Her boss … not family … not a friend. But David could wait until after the operation.

Thankfully the emergency-room doctor had confirmed that there was no damage to her spine—only some bruising on her back, and damage to her fingers where the reins had wrenched the ligaments and the fracture of her thumb where Breeze must have trodden on her. It would need setting. And perhaps a pin, the doctor had said. Nothing life threatening.

No, there was no one who desperately needed to know. No one who would drop everything and rush to hold her mangled hand. A tear slid out the side of her closed eye.

Alyssa turned her head away, reluctant to let Joshua witness her bout of self-pity. The silence lengthened. He—her nemesis who was being so unexpectedly kind—was waiting for her reply. She moved her head from side to side against the regulation hospital pillow.

“No one?”

Was that disbelief she heard? Swallowing the lump in her throat, she opened her eyes. “My father lives in Australia with his new wife and her children,” she murmured huskily, her throat raw from suppressed tears. She gave him a tremulous smile. “He’s taking his retirement from the bench seriously.”

“I’m sorry you’re alone.” Joshua sounded more subdued than she’d ever heard him, no sign of his usual take-charge arrogance remained.

Clearly he’d remembered that her mother was dead, that she was an only child.

“What about friends?” he asked. “Can I call anyone?”

“They have their own lives … families, children.”

“They’re all married?”

“Yes. All except Lanie, my best friend, but she recently moved to Christchurch.”

Emotion flashed in Alyssa’s eyes. An emotion that caused Joshua to blink. Pain? Vulnerability? Loneliness? He looked again. But her eyes were already closing.

“I’m tired,” she whispered.

And Joshua wanted to kick himself for interrogating her when she least needed it.

“Rest,” he said feeling utterly powerless to do anything about her misery. “It shouldn’t be long until they operate.”

In the end, Joshua waited until the operation was over and had been declared a success by the surgeon he’d arranged—the best in the region. Once Alyssa had been moved to the private ward he’d booked, Joshua sat beside her while she blinked sleepily after a hefty dose of painkillers.

The surgeon would be doing rounds before he went home, and Joshua had every intention of cornering him to discuss Alyssa’s prognosis.

He looked down at her. She’d been a real trouper. Uncomplaining. Pleasant to the nurses. A dream patient.

On cue, almost as though she’d heard his thoughts, her eyelids fluttered.

“My boss is going to be mad. I’m going to need even more time off work.” She gave him a sleepy look from under heavy eyelids and pushed the covers back with her uninjured hand, revealing a white hospital-issue flannel gown.

Instantly his body stirred. God, the woman was hurt … drugged … and one sleepy glance was all it took to electrify him. To bring back the memory of strawberries and soft skin and—

He pressed his mouth into a hard line.

“Have no fear, I won’t be staying at Saxon’s Folly,” she muttered, misinterpreting his frustration.

“Yes, you will.” It had been bothering him ever since the doctor had asked who would be looking after her. “You’re staying. I’m the boss, remember? What I say goes.”

“I thought you couldn’t wait to be rid of me?”

“So did I,” he growled.

But she didn’t laugh as he’d half-intended. Instead her irises darkened her eyes to an unfathomable shade. “What of your concerns that I might stir up trouble with your mother … and Amy?”

“I’ll confine you to your room—so seeing Amy won’t be a problem.” Joshua smiled to make sure she knew he had no real intention of locking her away. “And for some strange reason your presence seems to be doing my mother good.” He hadn’t expected that. “Everything she says is prefaced by ‘Alyssa thinks …’ It’s her latest craze.”

Her expression softened. “I like your mother very much, too. I couldn’t impose on her. She has enough on her plate emotionally without an invalid in the house.”

“You don’t have a choice.” Joshua stood and stretched, his back aching from the hard hospital chair that he’d occupied for the past hour. “You’re staying at Saxon’s Folly.”

“Because you feel that what happened was your fault?”

Trust Alyssa to see through his offer to the self-blame that lay beneath. “Yes.” He raised an eyebrow and added with barbed humour, “And because I don’t trust you not to rush away and get legal advice so that you can sue Saxon’s Folly. Consider my invitation an attempt to save on legal costs.”

That managed to raise a smile. “Okay, then I definitely have no choice. But don’t accuse me of trying to seduce you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He couldn’t blame her for her reluctance to stay. He’d done all he could to drive her away, scared that she might hurt his family. And then there was his other unspoken fear.

The fear that stirred whenever she came too close.

The deep-seated fear that she could seduce him anytime she chose seemed unreasonably absurd when, eyelids drooping, she said softly, “Thanks, Joshua.”

The fear melted away beneath her gratitude.

“My pleasure.”

The hands of the clock on the wall moved forward, and Joshua sat quietly by Alyssa’s side as her eyes remained firmly shut. Not even the bustle of activity when the night staff came on duty caused her to stir.

He stared into her pale face. She was beautiful in sleep, her features perfect. The straight nose, the curved lips, the ivory skin and dark auburn hair that spilled against her fine-grained skin. How could he have missed her perfection?

Awake, Alyssa was so animated—so opinionated—that all consideration of her beauty was driven from his mind. He was always aware of her … the spirit of her … the very essence that was Alyssa. She annoyed him. She frustrated the hell out of him. And, yes, he’d admit she intrigued him more than any woman in a long, long time.

The night of the masked ball his attention had been captured by her figure, her poise, her assurance … and the in-your-face challenge that she radiated. Once he’d held her in his arms … well, hell, his hormones had taken over.

And then at the hospital, when his only concern should’ve been for his brother, he’d discovered he’d been turned on by Alyssa Blake, his dead brother’s forbidden lover.

The discovery had shaken him to the core.

Now he stared at her, remembered the flash of vulnerability when she’d spoke of her married friends with their families.

The loneliness in her eyes had called out to him.

Did she yearn for a family … children? Had she expected to find them with Roland? Or had his sometimes obtuse older brother caused the emptiness he’d glimpsed hidden inside her?

Then there was Amy, the woman who Roland had been supposed to marry before Christmas. Joshua had been eager for Alyssa to leave—before Amy found out Roland had been screwing around with another woman.

He felt torn between looking out for Amy, his mother’s goddaughter who he’d looked out for all his life, and the responsibility he’d acquired to Alyssa. She was hurt, in hospital, with no one to call on to tell about her operation.

Tough, opinionated Alyssa Blake needed him.

Watching her, something heavy shifted deep inside his chest. Alyssa wouldn’t be able to leave tomorrow. And even when she’d recovered enough to drive, how could he let her go back to Auckland, where clearly there was no one to take care of her?

Suddenly Joshua wished Roland had lived so that he could throttle his brother. How dare Roland have been so irresponsible? He’d always been a bit of a playboy … but to mess around with two women simultaneously was stupid. Hadn’t he expected them to find out about each other? And now Joshua was stuck with the mess.

Joshua stared at Alyssa. The worst of the whole mess was that he was starting to suspect that if she crooked her little finger at him, he’d come running.

He wanted her for himself.

A memory from earlier in the day flashed into his mind. Of her head tilted back, her eyes shut and her glorious hair spilled over the grass beside the woodland pool. God. He’d nearly damn well had her. He’d touched her pale skin, kissed her soft, sensitive breasts. He’d taunted Alyssa, asking if she wanted more. The raw truth was he’d craved more. Much more.

If the knowledge that she’d gone with him only because she’d wanted to see Roland’s favourite spot hadn’t been flung over him like a bucket of icy water, he would’ve taken her.

He almost wished he had.

A soft groan of shock escaped him.

What kind of man lusted after his brother’s lover … a brother who hadn’t even been buried for a month?

The Saxon Brides: Mistaken Mistress

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