Читать книгу The Hot-Headed Virgin: The Virgin's Price / The Greek's Virgin / The Italian Billionaire's Virgin - Trish Morey, Christina Hollis - Страница 17

CHAPTER TEN

Оглавление

MIA headed straight for the en suite. Shutting the door, she stared at her wild appearance in the mirror, her hands clutching the edge of the vanity to steady her trembling legs.

She had to learn to control herself around him! What was she thinking, kissing him back like that? It was totally crazy. It was just asking for the sort of heartbreak she could well do without.

She turned around and, leaning back against the vanity, released a heavy sigh. Of course, resisting him would be a whole lot easier if he weren’t so damned tempting. Those dark blue eyes positively smouldered with sensuality every time they locked with hers. And those lips! What woman could resist a kiss that felt as soft as a butterfly landing on an exotic bloom, or not respond when the same kiss turned into something deeply erotic with the determined thrust of his searching tongue?

She looked down at her breasts and suppressed a little shiver of reaction as she thought of his mouth around her nipple. He had been so very close to tipping her over the edge if only he knew it.

She gave a little scowl as she reached for the shower tap.

Maybe he did know it.

The shower was just what she needed; it was cool and refreshing and washed away the dust and damp stickiness of long-distance travel.

It had been a long day and tiredness was creeping up on her, making her sway on her feet as she wrapped the soft, fluffy white towel—bigger than any towel she’d ever seen before—around herself like a sarong.

The bed beckoned her as soon as she left the en suite, its wide white-feather softness looking like a cloud of comfort in the middle of the floor.

She gave the room a quick, sweeping glance for her suitcase so she could retrieve her nightwear. She’d seen Bryn carry their luggage upstairs earlier but there was no sign of it in here.

She gave a little shrug of tired indifference and slipped the towel off, climbing in between the cool sheets and laying her head down on the soft-as-air feather pillow as she closed her eyes with a sigh of relief…

‘So guess who’s been sleeping in my bed?’

Mia’s eyes sprang open at the deep, lazy drawl, the bright glare from the overhead light making her wince as she struggled upright, clutching the sheet to cover her nakedness.

‘Your bed?’ she gasped, her heart thudding in alarm as she registered that he was wearing nothing but a towel slung loosely around his waist.

Bryn gave her an indolent smile. ‘And here I was, thinking it was going to take me the best part of the week to convince you to sleep with me.’ He reached for the edge of his towel and dropped it to the floor.

Mia’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. She suddenly realised she was staring and quickly flung the sheet over her head. ‘For God’s sake, cover yourself!’ she croaked.

He gave a deep chuckle of laughter. ‘Haven’t you seen a naked man before?’

‘Yes,’ she said, her voice muffled from under the sheet.

‘So what’s the problem?’

‘My nephew is five years old, that’s what’s the problem.’

‘So he’s got a bit of growing to do, but we all end up more or less the same.’

Mia wasn’t so sure about that. She’d seen plenty of toned male bodies at her local gym, admittedly covered by close-fitting gym gear, but Bryn’s was something else again—especially naked.

She felt a little tug on the sheet covering her and clutched at it in panic. ‘What are you doing?’ she shrieked when it slipped out of her desperate grasp.

Bryn’s gaze burned as it ran over her and she hastily crossed her legs and covered her breasts with her hands. Her words of protest locked somewhere in her throat as he stepped towards her, her mouth going dry and her heart threatening to make its way out of her chest when he sat down next to her, his muscled, hair-roughened thigh touching her smooth one.

‘You’re in my bed, which I can only assume means you’ve changed your mind and now want to sleep with me,’ he said.

‘I—I didn’t know it was your bed.’

He stroked a finger over the upper curves of her breasts where her hands couldn’t quite conceal them. ‘Don’t be shy, Mia. I want to look at you. All of you.’

Mia could hardly breathe; his touch was so light but so very tempting. She could feel the stirrings of desire deep within her and there was nothing she could do to control them. Electricity fizzed along her flesh wherever he touched; even the air seemed to be charged with it. She could feel the crackling tension as his eyes roved her slim form, lingering on the length of her tightly crossed legs and what she was desperately trying to hide from him.

‘Uncross your legs, Mia,’ he commanded gently.

She shook her head, her lips tightly compressed, not trusting herself to speak.

‘I want you, Mia, and I know you want me,’ he said. ‘I can see it in your eyes, I can feel it in your kisses and I can even smell it on your skin.’

She wished she could deny it but she could smell it herself. The delicate feminine fragrance of desire, the silky liquid that betrayed her vulnerability to him as nothing else could do. He had only to touch her where she most ached to be touched and he would feel it for himself. She could almost feel the thick, smooth glide of his finger moving inside her, stretching her in preparation for his possession.

‘It’s just hormones,’ she said, somewhat breathlessly. ‘You shouldn’t be feeling flattered at all.’

She could tell he didn’t believe her by the laughing glint in his eyes but he didn’t press the issue. Instead, he patted her thigh and stood up, not even bothering to hide his erection.

‘I’ll leave you in peace. I was just teasing. I know you’ll come to me when you’re ready.’

‘You’ll be waiting a very long time,’ she said with much less conviction than she’d intended.

‘I can be patient,’ he said, holding her defiant gaze. ‘Besides, there are some things in life that are well worth the wait. It makes the prize all the more valuable if you’ve had to wait for it, don’t you think?’

She gave him a sour look. ‘If you want a prize, go and enter a meat-tray raffle. I’m not on offer.’

He picked up his towel and wrapped it around his waist once more, a smile still playing around his mouth. ‘Sweet dreams, Mia. I’ll be in the next room if you want me.’

‘I don’t want you,’ she said but she knew it was more for her own benefit than his.

He picked up the sheet off the floor and spread it over her, tucking her in like a child, stooping to place a soft kiss to her forehead. ‘So you keep saying but we both know it isn’t true.’

‘I suppose someone with the ego the size of yours could only be expected to say something like that,’ she bit out resentfully. ‘Has there ever been a woman you haven’t been able to lure into your bed?’

‘Not so far.’

‘Poor misguided fools,’ she muttered. ‘I wonder if there’s a support group for them all. It should be called BDCO.’

‘What does that stand for?’

‘Bryn Dywer’s Cast-Offs,’ she said. ‘Life-time membership free in exchange for a broken heart.’

His shoulders shook as he laughed. ‘As far as I know I haven’t broken any hearts irreparably,’ he said as he reached for the door knob. ‘Sleep tight. I’ll see you in the morning.’

Mia let out a slow, prickly breath as the door closed behind him. If she wasn’t very careful hers could well be the first heart he would damage beyond repair. If she was honest with herself, she was more than halfway to being in love with him as it was; it wouldn’t take too many more of those scorching kisses of his to make her go beyond the point of no return.

Mia woke to brilliant sunshine and the chorus of birds, the distant roll of the ocean in the distance filling her with instant energy. She tossed the sheet aside and came up short when she saw her suitcase next to the built-in wardrobe. Bryn must have brought it in during the night or the early hours of the morning.

A feathery sensation passed over her at the thought of him seeing her sleeping in that big bed, perhaps uncovered and totally vulnerable. She’d been hot during the night and recalled throwing the sheet off at one point until the cooler air of the morning had made her reach for it again.

She gave herself a mental shake and quickly unpacked a bikini and a two-piece sports outfit and trainers from her case and dressed quickly, tying her hair in a high pony-tail.

The house was quiet as she came downstairs but she saw signs of Bryn having had a cup of tea in the kitchen. The kettle was still warm and his cup was rinsed and placed upside down on the draining board.

She heard the clang of weights below her in the gym downstairs and pictured him working out, no doubt lifting three times her body weight as if it were nothing. She decided against joining him. She’d seen enough of his body last night and didn’t need reminding of how fabulously toned and muscled he was.

Besides, it was a beautiful day and she could hear the ocean calling. Hard exercise was what she needed to clear her mind from the disturbing images that kept creeping in. Images of her pinned intimately by Bryn’s hard body, his hips moving in time with hers as they both climbed towards the summit of sensual release. She could imagine he would be an exciting and demanding lover; every time he’d touched her she’d felt the hot charge of sexual energy pass from his body to hers.

She let out a frustrated breath and set a brisk pace as she ran down the steps leading to the footpath to the beach.

There were a few surfers already out riding the point break on Main Beach and she jogged along until she came to the pathway leading to Noosa National Park. She followed the coastal track looking out over Laguna Bay and then on to Boiling Pot and Dolphin Point, the growing heat of the morning making her turn just past Winch Cove to head into the cooler shadows of the melaleuca and tea-tree forest.

The honey-sweet smell of the white-canopied bush filled her nostrils as she jogged past gnarled banksias and spiky pandanus. Bush turkeys scratched around the undergrowth and overhead she heard the flap of large wings and looked up to see a pair of glossy black cockatoos flying past.

Further along the track she passed a young couple who were walking hand in hand, their easy-going, loving chatter striking a note of regret in Mia’s chest.

How wonderful it would be to be loved like that, she thought. She wanted to be loved the way her sister Ashleigh was loved by her husband, Jake, the way her parents had loved each other for nearly thirty years.

But what she wanted was impossible; Bryn wasn’t the thirty-year-relationship type. Thirty days was too long for him. He wasn’t interested in continuing their association past the point of his great-aunt’s death. And that could be a matter of just a few short months or possibly even weeks.

The track veered back to Laguna Bay and Mia ran on down to Main Beach, and, leaving her shoes and outer gear on the sand, headed for the waves in her red and white bikini.

She swam the length of the beach, which ran parallel to the popular shopping and restaurant strip of Hastings Street. She turned at the rocky outcrop at one end to go back the way she’d come, the water warm but still refreshing. Every so often a swelling wave would pick her up and let her down again in a gentle rolling movement before it gathered force on its way to the shore.

The sun burned down with intense summer heat and when she waded back through the wash to the sand she could see the numbers on the beach had swelled. Young children were playing at the water’s edge with buckets and spades, their parents close by, where several colourful umbrellas were already up in defence against the scorching rays of the sun.

She sat and looked out to sea, hoping for a moment to gather her thoughts before returning to Bryn’s house. But even after sitting there soaking up the warmth of the sun for several minutes she had to finally acknowledge that her vigorous run and swim hadn’t been able to do what she’d hoped they would do. It was impossible to avoid any longer the truth that was as persistent as the waves as they drummed against the shore.

She couldn’t escape it any more; there was no running away from it even if she ran around the world and back twice over.

She was in love with Bryn Dwyer.

She wasn’t sure how it had happened. She had thought him the most detestable man alive and yet somehow over the past few weeks he had become the very focus of her life. She couldn’t imagine how her life was going to be without him in it once their marriage was brought to its inevitable end. How would she cope with hearing him on the radio every weekday or reading his acerbic comments in his weekly column? Perhaps once his great-aunt was no longer around he would even joke about his publicity stunt, making a fool of Mia in front of the whole of Sydney, telling his listeners he’d married a twenty-four-year-old virgin who couldn’t act to save herself.

‘I thought I might find you down here.’ Bryn’s deep voice suddenly sounded above her.

Mia looked up at him in surprise. ‘I…I went for a run…’

His eyes swept over her reddened features. ‘So I see.’

She turned back to the sea. The sight of him in nothing but a pair of board shorts and trainers was far too unsettling. ‘I’ve just had a swim and now I think I’ll have a little sun-bake for a while.’

‘Have you had breakfast?’

‘No.’

‘Aren’t you hungry?’

‘No,’ she lied.

‘Have you had something to drink?’

‘No…’

He stretched out the large beach towel he’d brought with him next to where she was sitting. ‘Here, lie down on that and I’ll go and get you some water.’

Mia turned onto her stomach so she could watch him as he walked back along the promenade to a café on Hastings Street. She saw several female heads turning as he went past, his tanned and muscular but lean frame obviously as attractive to others as it was to her. She gave a little sigh and rested her chin on her hands and closed her eyes.

He came back in a few minutes with a bottle of water and some fresh fruit salad and handed them both to her.

She met his eyes briefly. ‘Thank you.’

He sat down on the edge of the towel and looked out to sea. ‘How did you sleep?’

‘Fine,’ she said between mouthfuls of juicy mango and tangy pineapple. ‘I like listening to the sound of the ocean. It puts me to sleep every time.’

Bryn wished he could say the same for himself. He’d spent a great deal of the night tossing and turning restlessly, his body still on fire. When he’d taken her bag into her room once she was asleep it had been all he could do not to join her in the bed and pull her into his arms. His desire for her was beyond anything he’d ever experienced before. It gnawed at him relentlessly, making his body ache to possess her. He could feel it now just sitting next to her on the sand, her trim, golden body so close he could smell the hint of vanilla on her skin in spite of the exercise she’d taken.

He turned to look at her and asked, ‘What would you like to do today?’

‘I don’t know…sun-bake and stuff…What did you have in mind?’

‘If I told you what I had in mind you might slap my face.’

Mia stared at the piece of kiwi fruit she’d just speared with her plastic fork, her skin prickling all over as she felt the weight of his studied gaze. ‘Don’t you ever think of anything else besides satisfying your bodily urges?’

He leaned on one elbow, his long, tanned legs stretched out beside hers, his expression teasing. ‘Is that why you’re an obsessive exerciser? To control your own bodily urges?’

She gave him a chilly little glance. ‘I happen to believe in living healthily. The human heart is a muscle like any other. Daily exercise is essential to keep it in good working order.’

‘There are other ways of exercising the heart,’ he pointed out. ‘I could show you if you like.’

‘No, thank you.’

He laughed and, picking up a handful of fine sand, began to trickle it over her up-bent thigh.

‘Stop that!’ She slapped his hand away and began dusting off the grains from between her legs.

‘Come in and rinse it off with me,’ he suggested, springing to his feet and holding out a hand.

Mia scowled at him but her hand slipped into his regardless. He pulled her to her feet and, releasing her hand, issued her an irresistible challenge. ‘I’ll race you to the water.’

‘You’re on,’ she said and took off at full speed for the ocean. She had to skirt around a toddler and his mother at the water’s edge, which cost her valuable seconds, but she made it to the first breaker and would have beaten him convincingly except he grabbed one of her ankles and tugged her backwards.

She came up spluttering and in revenge scooped a handful of water up and tossed it at his face. ‘You cheated!’

He ducked her liquid missile and caught both of her hands in his, pulling her towards him. ‘I warned you once before, sweetheart, I don’t always play by the rules.’

A gentle wave at her back pushed her even closer to him and he steadied her with his hands on her waist, his eyes, even bluer than the water around them, locking on hers. She moistened her mouth as his head came down, her eyes closing on her soft sigh as his lips found hers. It was a deeply sensual kiss, made all the more alluring because they were skin on skin in the warm water. Mia had never felt so aware of her body before. She could feel the tightening of her breasts and the melting of her bones as he deepened the kiss. The waves rocked against them, leaving her in no doubt of Bryn’s thickening erection pressed so tantalisingly against the naked flesh of her lower belly. She writhed against him, wanting more of his burning heat but lower, where a hollow ache pulsed for him to fill.

After a few breathless minutes Bryn lifted his mouth from hers and looked down at her with a mocking glint in his eyes. ‘I can only assume that your rather convincing performance was for the benefit of the crowd on the beach.’

Mia was temporarily lost for words. She hadn’t given the crowd a single thought. All she had thought about was how he made her feel and how much she wanted him.

‘That’s what you’re paying me to do, isn’t it?’ she said at last, her tone sounding terse and embittered as she pulled herself from his hold and stalked back through the waist-deep water to the sand.

Bryn turned to watch her make her way through the foamy wash and frowned. ‘Yes…’ he said but the words were lost on the waves as they rushed to follow her to the shore. ‘Yes, it is.’

The Hot-Headed Virgin: The Virgin's Price / The Greek's Virgin / The Italian Billionaire's Virgin

Подняться наверх