Bound As His Business-Deal Bride (Mills & Boon Modern) Page 12

  ‘I’ll come here and stand on the back terrace, overlooking my fields, smelling the roses and lavender on the breeze. And I’ll never leave.’ A blush rose on her face, as beautiful as the sun breaking over the horizon at dawn. ‘It’s silly, really. Following the seasons. Sitting back and watching things grow.’

  He drank some of the bourbon mixture, grimaced. Turned out this was not one of the things he enjoyed.

  ‘There’s nothing silly about it. It’s always been your dream.’ Gage noticed there was no talk of relationships or family. He didn’t know why that left him with a pang of something like sadness.

  The simple things he’d once loved were all tied up with memories of Eve. Sneaking off and meeting through that hole in the wall. Threading flowers into her hair so she looked like some ethereal fairy princess, all golden and beautiful. When she’d rejected him, he’d stopped dreaming of simple, even frivolous things and had driven himself in a never-ending quest to redeem his name. It had been exhausting. What a pleasure it would have been to merely sit somewhere and look at a landscape. To...stop.

  ‘It wasn’t my only dream once,’ Eve said. Her gaze met his. There was so much unsaid, and he couldn’t seem to find the words to pick a way through the maze of the past that stood between them. ‘What’s yours?’

  He should have said the deal with Greta Bonitz. That’s what he’d wanted more than anything only weeks before, but he couldn’t say that because it would be a lie now. His dreams were shifting things, dredging up fantasies held so long ago they’d been forgotten. Of marriage, children. Old desires he’d tried to cast aside, along with the painful memories.

  The sad truth was his dreams were still tied up in her.

  ‘You,’ he said with no plan or forethought, leaving himself open to attack. He didn’t care if what came next left his blood on the floor. He needed to get to the bottom of what was going on here.

  Eve grabbed her cup and clutched it on her lap in both hands. Not looking at him now but into her drink. Her lower lip trembled till she sank her teeth into it. For a few moments he worried she might draw blood.

  ‘No. I can’t be your dream. I’m your nightmare.’

  ‘My dreams are my own. Sure, they’ve become nightmares because I shouldn’t touch you. But in my fantasies... I can do anything.’ He moved around the counter to where she sat, still resolutely avoiding his gaze. ‘Do you fantasise too? Maybe about me untying that distracting bow at your hip? Teasing those tight nipples I can see right now through your dress. Undoing you. Is that what you’re fantasising about?’

  He ached for her, but this was a long game he played now. Gage reached out and brushed the tangle of her golden locks over Eve’s shoulder. The drink in her cup quivered. She gave an imperceptible shake of her head. ‘I’m tired.’

  If he had his way, there’d be no sleep in this house tonight. A heavy pulse beat low and insistently in him. ‘I can think of better ways of getting to sleep than milk and bourbon. Let me show you.’

  Her lips parted, the death-like grip on her cup loosening a fraction. He grabbed the rim and eased it out of her hands.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  Her voice was low and husky. A flush ran up her throat. She knew exactly what he was doing. He cupped her cheek, stroked his thumb against her smooth, soft skin. Eve finally looked at him, her eyes bottomless pools, almost all pupil surrounded by a sliver of pale blue.

  ‘I’m going to kiss you,’ he said, the anticipatory pleasure surging through him making him hard, desperate, when he needed infinite patience tonight. He leaned down to whisper in her ear, ‘Then I’m going to carry you to my room. Peel that tempting dress from your glorious body.’ The panting of her breath teased at his neck. ‘I’m going to caress, kiss, explore every part of you.’ He skimmed his lips feather-light along her throat. ‘And only when you’re trembling, wet and mad with desire will I make love to you. For hours. I want to hear you scream my name. Over and over.’

  He skimmed his lips over the side of her neck, past the base of her ear. His eyes drifted shut as his nose brushed her cheek. ‘Say yes, cher, and I’m yours for tonight.’

  He wanted more than a night, but Eve was afraid of something and if she thought their time was limited she might just let go of that tight control...enough. She twined her arm around his neck and pressed her lips to his. Her lips parting. Their tongues touching.

  There was nothing bold about her, just uncertainty. Something about that, how tentative they were at this moment, made him feel young again. Like the world had possibility rather than being full of disappointment. He wanted her here. Now. On this cold marble counter. The drive to tear off the dress and lay her out rode him hard. But he’d told her his plans and wouldn’t deviate from the promises he’d made her. He kissed her back, relishing in the softness of her mouth, the hesitant stroke of her tongue. Let himself believe they were back...before. Before any of the pain and hurt. He pulled away from her and looked down, her lips dark pink and moist, her breaths heavy, matching his.

  ‘Bed.’

  ‘Yes.’

  He swung her into his arms, where she clung on, so light and breakable. Something precious to be cosseted and adored. She nuzzled into his neck as he carried her to his room, striding with purpose, in a hurry to get there because the night ahead loomed large and pleasure-filled. He’d have her again, and again and again. Hell, he needed to take a few breaths to make sure he’d last. Even the thought of being inside her once more unravelled him. He walked through the door of his room into darkness. Found the bed and gently laid her on the covers then moved away.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Eve asked, voice low as if whispering some naughty secrets.

  ‘A light. I want to see you.’

  ‘No!’ Her voice was strident, a strange discord in the evening. ‘I... I want you now. Like this. Don’t leave me.’

  The blood surged through him again. That wasn’t something he could ignore and now his eyes had adjusted to the lower light he glimpsed the way the moon glowing through the expansive French doors cast her in its silver light.

  ‘Whatever the lady desires, she shall have.’ He moved to her dress. That bow at her side, which had been plaguing him all night. He plucked at the end of the tie, ever so slowly, pulling as the loop of the bow slipped through. He eased apart the remains of the knot and peeled the dress open. She lay splayed on the fabric, her body pale, her bra and panties a dark trace of lace on her moonlit body.

  He craved to see those breasts again without a bra. To taste them, toy with her nipples till she writhed in ecstasy. Something wild and possessive grabbed him, wanting her to beg him to satisfy her. To prove she should never have left him. To prove that no one else could ever give her what he had.

  As much as desire drove him to tear off her clothes and pound into her like a crazed man, he wouldn’t. Her rapid breaths were like music in the air. He eased her panties down her legs and tossed the flimsy lace to the floor. Leaned over her, stroked his fingers whisper-light up her leg till she shivered and moaned, then dropped his head and kissed the soft, pale skin of her stomach, lower and lower. Breathing in the scent of her sweet arousal. He hovered for a moment, one hand stroking, his breath on the juncture of her thighs because he wasn’t ashamed to admit he wanted her too. He was aching and hard, his clothes gripping him too tight.

  Eve squirmed underneath him. ‘Please.’

  He smiled. Kissed his way up her body. Settled his lips over her left nipple, already a hard peak, and sucked it through the lace of her bra. Her groan was deep and carnal and sliced through him with shards of anticipatory pleasure.

  Gage pulled down the other cup of her bra, twirled her free nipple between his fingers as Eve reached her hands and grappled with the buttons on his shirt. He loved her desperate, staccato movements, her frantic tugs at the fabric, pulling it from his trousers.

  ‘Too many clothes,’
she groaned. He shrugged the shirt from his body and threw it to the side. Undid his belt and whipped it from his trousers.

  ‘Get rid of this damned bra.’ He kissed the side of her neck as she rolled to one side and he undid the clasp at the back, freeing her. He sat back on his haunches, looking down at her body in the cool light. Sprawled out on the bed with her hair feathered on the pillow. Her features were smudged and blurred like a charcoal portrait in the soft light. Gage dropped his head again, kissing her perfect breasts. Laying his body over Eve and relishing in the contrast of her softness to his hardness, her edges and angles underneath him.

  He didn’t care that he still had his trousers on. If he took them off, this would be over too soon. Eve wrapped her legs around him, ground her body against his hardness as he captured her lips in his own, their kisses wet and frantic with nipping teeth. He wanted to see that, see her lips, swollen and well kissed, and know that he had done that. Wrecked her, like she was wrecking him. Her legs gripped tighter as he lost himself in the grind of their bodies, plucking at her nipples with his fingers, tongues exploring, their movements in such synchronicity it was like they’d never been apart.

  She pulled her mouth away. ‘I need you.’

  The bright burst of arousal tore through him, his body heavy with it. Aching. ‘I know,’ he murmured against her lips. He rolled to the side, his trousers now an impediment. He reached for the zip.

  Eve rolled to the side too. ‘Let me.’ She slid the zipper down all too slowly, reached her hand into his trousers and gripped his length through his underwear. He dropped his head back. Relished her touch. She slipped below the waistband of his briefs. Stroked him with her cool, firm touch and he almost shot off the bed at the shock. It was his turn to groan, throw back his head. Take. Savour.

  Her firm fingers rubbed over the tip, working him like he’d shown her he enjoyed so many years ago. But this wasn’t about him as the prickle at the base of his spine sounded a warning, the heaviness that told him he’d lose control soon. It was about her, breaking her apart.

  He moved off the bed and looked down at her, unable to judge her expression in the darkness. He stripped himself of his trousers, underwear and knelt on the bed, dropping his head to the juncture of her thighs. Breathed in her sweet musky scent.

  She spread her legs wider, fell open for him as he traced her with his tongue, relishing the salty sweet taste unique to her. He delved between her legs. Concentrated on the tight little bud and made her squirm and moan, lavishing her with attention. He slipped his hand between her thighs, probing her wet depths as he slid one finger inside then another and curled them to hit the spot he knew drove her wild.

  Her back arched. She gripped the sheets, her thighs trembling as he lapped at her body, taking her higher and higher, but he wouldn’t let her fall yet. He eased off a touch, bringing her back down. He could make this pleasure last for hours if he wanted to. He knew all about delayed gratification and patience. He had warned her after all.

  Her hands released the sheets and one thrust into his hair, gripping tight. He relished the bite of pain, the desperation it showed.

  ‘All of you.’ Her voice was like the slip of lace over beautiful curves. As soft as the moonlight caressing her body. ‘Inside me. Please.’

  He’d wanted to hear her beg but it didn’t hold the pleasure he’d thought it would. He needed to be inside her, to slide into her hot, wet depths and lose himself right along with her.

  ‘Yes.’ He rolled over and opened the bedside drawer.

  ‘No,’ Eve said, and he halted immediately, a sinking feeling hitting his stomach. She’d changed her mind? She reached out her arms and tried to pull him back to her. ‘Only you. Nothing between us. Just you inside me.’

  The rush was like a drug. Like being hit, hard. In all the time since Eve he’d never had sex without a condom. The only time he ever had was with her that long-ago morning.

  ‘I trust you. I need you.’

  And that’s all it took, the expression of trust so heady he almost came then and there without her hands even on his body. He didn’t care anymore. He rolled over onto her, settled between her glorious thighs. Positioned himself and hesitated for a second before slowly pushing home. His mind blanked. The white-hot spike of pleasure almost undid him. Eve gripped his body hard. He hesitated for a moment.

  ‘Good?’ He ground out the word through gritted teeth because this was better than good. Just having her underneath him, being inside her, felt life-altering.

  ‘Yes.’ Her voice was barely a whisper and then he began to thrust, long and slow, a hypnotic rhythm of push and pull. Her lips on his, tongue exploring his mouth. All slick and wet and barely controlled. She moved with him; her legs wrapped around his. Meeting him with every thrust. Moments of exquisite sensation that had him thanking the heavens she’d allowed him back into her body again. He didn’t care right now what had come before, only this moment, pure and perfect.

  The grind of her against him, the movements not so controlled now, told him she was close. She chased her pleasure and he was happy to give it to her. He dropped his head and sucked on her nipple as she tensed then splintered around him. Crying out his name. He buried his head into the side of her throat, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair as she brought herself up to meet him and gripped hard. He knew she was going to come again and held out for as long as he could till she grabbed his backside hard and dug her nails in deep. She could draw blood and he didn’t care. A bright burst of light exploded in his head as he tumbled over the edge. Her sobbing cries announced she’d gone over with him, again. And as the world righted itself, he heard the whisper he was sure she’d never meant him to hear. Three words that changed everything.

  ‘Only ever you.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  MORNINGS WERE FOR reckoning, and Eve wondered how swift that reckoning would be today. She’d woken to a body aching, sated and boneless. But her heart and soul weren’t sated. They’d never get enough of this. The touches in the darkness, the furtive kisses. The screaming want that would never go away.

  And this morning the fantasies in the darkness collided with the brutal reality of the daytime. What had she said last night? Hidden by the moonlight, it seemed as if any of her most furtive imaginings could be real. That time could be turned back, and she and Gage could pretend they were in their early twenties again, when anything had seemed possible.

  So little was possible now, all their history wound up with secrets. She should get up, move. Leave this bed and this room and flee, and to hell with everything. Her family, the company. This, here, was risking her soul and she didn’t think she had enough strength to keep the charade going any longer.

  ‘Morning.’ Gage’s midnight voice didn’t suit the sunshine filtering into the room through gauzy curtains. It spoke of the night, of twisted sheets and whispered caresses that could be hidden. In the daylight there was nowhere to hide.

  ‘Morning back at you.’

  In moments her world flipped, and she found herself rolled over and underneath a hot, hard body. Any thoughts of getting up and running away evaporated in a welling of need. She shifted under him and winced. It had been a long, passionate night with little sleep, but her aches eased, to be replaced by another—the hot slide of desire working low down. There was no ending to how much she craved this man.

  ‘Are you hurting?’ His voice sounded so gentle. The look on his face concerned. It was worrying, this time spent with him. He was less the hard businessman, more the generous lover. Someone dangerous in every sense to her health and happiness. He pushed himself further up on his elbows and looked down at her, as if checking.

  ‘A few aches and pains.’ She shrugged, trying for a nonchalance she didn’t feel. ‘As I said, it’s been a while.’

  His eyes darkened to the blue of a stormy sea. His pupils almost swallowed any colour.

  ‘Ho
w long?’

  Gage’s voice was soft, the question sounding innocent enough, and yet a thread ran through it, something dark and dangerous. It felt important and screamed a kind of warning. She’d broken open, leaving herself vulnerable in a way she hadn’t allowed for years. Words had spilled out of her like she’d been given a truth serum, and while most of them could have been excused as being whispered in the throes of passion, the heat of the moment, some couldn’t. She’d hoped he hadn’t noticed, but with Gage she’d never really had room to hide. This soft and caring man unravelled her every time. She looked away.

  ‘Long enough.’

  Why couldn’t she say something sophisticated, urbane? Something a woman experienced in having great sex would say. Something to shut him down rather than crack the door open even wider.

  ‘Last night you said—’

  ‘Sugar, I say a lot of things when I’m chasing an orgasm.’ She would not let him use her words against her. Not words spoken in the heat of the moment. ‘Don’t believe everything you hear.’

  She covered the lie well enough and what she’d said was designed to be brutal. She could deal with him angry. It’s what she wanted. Safer that way for her and for him. But the words left a sour taste in her mouth, felt tainted, because last night had been something special and beautiful.

  She expected him to pull away in disgust, to leave the bed. Instead he settled down, over her. His gaze might have changed fleetingly, a tightness that she couldn’t read, but he didn’t shift. His forearms remained either side of her head, his thumbs stroking at her hairline. She wanted to close her eyes, to soak in the gentleness and the caring, but that would leave her exposed again.

  ‘I’m coming to realise what I should believe and what I shouldn’t,’ he said, skimming his lips over her mouth. The whole of her flooded with a slick heat. She didn’t care that she ached, she revelled in his hard body against hers. If they made love again, he’d forget this, they could lose themselves in pleasure and he wouldn’t ask the hard questions anymore.