The Terms of Their Affair

by Clare Connelly

  He swallowed and his Adam’s Apple jerked in the thick column of his neck. “I will never understand it,” he said simply, finally. And to underscore his point, he continued. “I would never love like that. I have no interest in the kind of mess my mother made of her life. Or Gower, for that matter. Love is an excuse for stupidity. It’s self-indulgent and it’s weak.”

  She sipped her coffee, and beneath the table, she curled the nails of one hand into her palm. She dug them deep into her flesh, hoping that the pain would distract her from the greater ache she was feeling.

  Why was she so upset? After all, she’d known that loving him was a dangerous, risky proposition. Never had she hoped he would actually return those feelings, had she? Or had she been nursing that stupid hope in her chest this whole time? Had she really been thinking they might have been falling in love with one another?

  “Do you hear that?” Caradoc was teasing her, and Finn lifted her eyes to his face in confusion.

  “No?”

  “It sounds like your cell.”

  “Oh!” She blinked and scraped her chair back with a resounding sense of gratitude. It was in her handbag from the day before, when they’d gone for a freezing cold walk through Central Park. Snow had dusted down, covering them both in a fine mist of white, and Finn had felt that her life was perfect. She had everything she’d ever wanted. Stupid, in retrospect, she thought scathingly, especially in light of his descriptions of love. She walked quickly across the room, pulling her hair over her shoulder as she went. The phone stopped just as she reached her bag, but a second later, it began to ring again.

  She swiped it to answer and spoke a little breathlessly. “Hello?”

  “Seraphina, it’s Simon.”

  Her boss at the agency; a voice from her real life. She sat down on one of the thickly carpeted steps that led to Caradoc’s front door, and stared at her feet. “How are you, Si?”

  “Yeah, not bad. Not bad at all. You?”

  “About the same.”

  “Holiday going well?”

  Her eyes drifted unconsciously to Caradoc. He was watching her unashamedly. Where most people might try to disguise their interest, he stared at her as though she was just another possession in his apartment. What had Cristoff said? He would only ever marry a supermodel trophy wife. A wife he could count as one of his possessions. Not ever, never, someone like Seraphina James, a chauffeur from London’s east end.

  And what was wrong with her that she was even thinking that way? She didn’t want to get married! And not to a man like Caradoc. He was … everything she wanted in that moment, but that didn’t mean she wanted him forever, did it?

  “So I can count you in?”

  “Oh, huh? Sorry, Si. The reception broke up there. Go again.”

  “I’ve got that American singer here next week. She asked for you by name. Can you do it?”

  Her chest was being pierced. Optimism was no shield to reality. He had asked her to stay for a week. She had taken a week off work. Why should Simon’s request upset her as it did? It couldn’t. She wouldn’t let it. Life had to go on. The most important thing to Seraphina was to find a Post-Caradoc existence that she could tolerate.

  “Yeah, of course I can. I’ll pop into the office on Sunday to get the papers sorted.”

  “Great. You’re a legend, Finn. Thanks.”

  She disconnected the call and stared at her phone for a moment. What did that give her? Three more nights. She swallowed. It had been inevitable from the first moment they’d met. Nothing about this was supposed to be permanent. But unlike Caradoc’s mother, Finn had been prepared for this. She had told herself all along that love or no love, Caradoc Moore would never be a long-term fixture in her life.

  He didn’t say anything, but his eyes were glued to her when she returned to the table. She felt his silent question, and answered it despite the fact he hadn’t asked. That was another of his skills. His ability to require information without saying a word. “My boss. I’ve got a job next week. A singer I’ve worked for in the past.”

  His eyes narrowed but still he didn’t speak.

  “She’s nice. It’s a good gig. Lots of free time for me while she’s in the studio and at long lunches.”

  He sipped his coffee, his gaze not leaving her face.

  Finn wouldn’t look away, no matter how his stare was sending shivers down her spine. Her body was throbbing.

  Finally, Caradoc settled the mug on the table top and shook his head. “No.”

  “No?” She repeated huskily, her confusion obvious on her features. “No what?”

  “No. You shouldn’t accept the job.”

  “I … shouldn’t?” She asked with rich disbelief. “What are you talking about?”

  Hope warred with indignation.

  “I don’t want you to go yet.”

  She frowned, while she digested his statement. “We said a week …”

  “True,” he shrugged. “And is it enough for you?”

  Colour bloomed along her delicate cheekbones. “We said a week,” she hedged the question with a lack of panache that made him smile.

  “I’ve never really wanted a woman for longer than a week. Not two. Not three. But I can’t see a time when I’ll stop wanting you. I want you to stay with me, Finn. Stay. Just … stay. Don’t put a time on it. Stay for as long as we’re having this kind of … fun.”

  The silence was a deep, plunging gulf of promise between them. It wasn’t a declaration of love. It wasn’t even an offer of a proper relationship. But it was an admittance that he was as addicted to her as she was to him.

  He stood, his eyes still locked to hers as he moved around the table and held his hands out to her. She put her own in them unquestioningly, so that he could pull her to standing. He put his arms around her waist, so that she could feel his warmth. She was addicted to it. The way he felt close to her would be with her forever.

  “It’s stupid,” she said with a shake of a head. “I have a life in London. I have a job.”

  “I can hire you,” he said pragmatically. “So that no one else can.”

  “No!” She scolded sharply, her eyes showing her offence. “Don’t you dare. That would be … humiliating.”

  He frowned. The scruple surprised him. Not that he’d have put Finn in the same column as the mercenary women he usually slept with, but his offer made sense. “It would suit everyone. You could stay with me and still draw a salary. Your company would get paid.”

  “God, Caradoc, not everything in life is a bottom line. I would never stay with you if I thought you were paying my wage.”

  “Then stay with me because you want to.”

  Her heart was sinking all the way down to her toes.

  Caradoc pressed his mouth lightly against hers. “Do you remember what I said the first night we slept together?”

  She shook her head, and tears were stinging behind her eyelids. He was offering her everything she wanted in that minute. Was she brave enough to take it, regardless of the consequences? Could she be that irresponsible and careless as to risk her job and reputation just for a little more time with this man?

  “I want you to stay here. I want you in my bed. I want you here when I come home from work. I want you on my arm when I go to dinners. I want you with me. But I’m only going to ask this once and I’m not going to beg. You have to decide what you want, Finn, and to decide quickly.”

  She breathed in deeply. He smelled so good. His shower gel was spicy, but it was more than that. It was him. Caradoc. He was so masculine. She groaned softly. She was lost. “And if I go?”

  He ran his fingers down her spine, until they reached the waistband of her jeans. He teased her naked flesh, keeping her pressed to him. “Then you go. And we’re done.”

  Her heart turned over in her chest. “So if I go back to London, and to my job, this is over?”

  He kissed her then with all the hard hopes he had of her staying with him. “What we have doesn’t work if we’re not toget
her,” he said simply.

  Oh, but for Finn, that just wasn’t true. What she felt for him wasn’t purely defined by his presence or his sexual power. There was so much more to it.

  Breathing felt difficult. As though the very air in her lungs was frigid, and iced over. She tried to make light of it, but the joke fell flat. “Jeez, talk about blocking me into a corner.”

  He kissed her once more, his expression impossible to read. “There is no corner. Only a choice, and the choice is yours. I want you to stay. I’m asking you to stay. You have to decide what you want.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Three weeks in Manhattan, and Finn felt she knew neither Caradoc nor the city any better. Just as the city was an impenetrable jungle, he too was a mystery. An eternal conundrum, one she doubted she’d ever be able to process. Yet with each night they spent together, she felt herself falling deeper and deeper into the heart of his wonderment.

  She still didn’t comprehend him, and yet she felt, completely, utterly and eternally right when she was with him.

  Gone was the uncertainty that had dogged their early relationship. She now felt that they were as well suited as any two people had ever been. She loved him, she knew that without limitations, and she could only hope that one day he would begin to realise he felt the same.

  For surely he must.

  “Do you have to be all day?” She murmured, her cheek pressed against her folded-up knees. The bed sheet was crisp around her midsection, and beyond Caradoc, a panoramic view of Manhattan spread like a painting. Snow dusted against the windows, and Finn felt a sigh of complete happiness warming her soul.

  “I do.” His eyes didn’t leave his reflection in the mirror as he knotted a steel grey tie around his neck. She watched his fingers move deftly, as they always did. Fingers that had given her such immeasurable pleasure she would always blush to remember it.

  “All day?” She pouted, tilting her head a little to one side.

  Now his eyes drifted sideways in the mirror, to clash with hers. She was a seductive goddess in the middle of his bed. A kick of awareness slammed into his side and despite the fact he’d spent hours ravaging her in the middle of the night, he felt an instant yearning for more. He wanted to kiss her back into the mattress and take possession of her body. No frills, no foreplay, just the sex they were both utterly addicted to.

  “Yes, all day,” he responded with a droll humour that surprised him. How could he sound so unaffected when his blood was heated to boiling point for her?

  “But you were out all day yesterday.”

  His laugh was soft. He turned back to the mirror and finished straightening his tie.

  “It’s my job.”

  Finn’s pout deepened. She pushed the sheet down and stood slowly. With the grace he’d come to realise was just inherent to her, Finn crossed the room. She stood, perfectly naked but for the La Perla briefs he’d given her earlier, behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and stared at him in the mirror.

  “Could I change your mind?”

  His chest heaved with the strength of his breath. “I would love you to try.” He captured her hands and spun around in the circle of her arms. “But today is the day we sign the contracts. I have to be there.”

  Her hand snaked lower, to the front of his pants. She felt the firmness of his shaft and smiled slowly.

  “Can you be a little late at least?”

  He felt the groan in his gut. God, he wanted to be late for her. Hell, it was his company, and his takeover. He could do whatever the hell he wanted. God knew she was worth it. He’d become totally dependent on their nights together. The days dragged, but the nights … they could never be long enough. He wanted her with a dependability that was matched only by the moon’s conquering of the sun.

  But when he didn’t respond immediately, her soft sigh called his attention to her face. She sunk to her knees quickly; too quickly for him to realise with any foresight what she intended. But her hands on his belt left him in little doubt.

  “Finn …”

  It was something she hadn’t done to him. In fact, it was something she’d never done before. But Caradoc had made kissing her intimately into an art form, and she wanted, more than anything, to reciprocate.

  Sure, she was nervous. What if she was no good? What if she didn’t know what she was doing? But her desire to please him overrode everything.

  She lifted her eyes to his face, and smiled slowly. “I’ve never done this before. You have to tell me what you like. Okay?”

  What was that feeling inside of him? Pride? Affection? Lust? He couldn’t pick it, but something was swelling him up and making him feel as though he could take over anything in the world. He felt more powerful than ever before.

  Her mouth on his length was warm and moist. She was tentative, but he couldn’t have found anything hotter. She ran her tongue from his tip, all the way down, and her eyes locked with his, seeking reassurance.

  Caradoc swore, and dug his fingers into her silky hair. He wasn’t capable of stopping this now. His desire was a juggernaut and Finn was his sole object. She moved like an angel, completely intuitively driving him closer and closer towards the release that he knew to be imminent.

  “You must stop.” His words were a grunt. He threw his head back as his whole body began to throb and pulse with the pleasure that was preparing to crash over him.

  “Why?” She ran her tongue around his tip, her eyes searching his. “Is it not good?”

  “It’s too good,” he laughed roughly, holding on by a thread.

  “Is there any such thing?” She took his length deep in her mouth and he felt everything begin to fall apart. Jesus, if he didn’t take control, he was going to come inside of her and he didn’t have any idea if she was ready for that. And he cared. He cared way more than he’d realised.

  With a loud sound of frustration he stepped backwards, his breath panting in his chest. He felt half insane with the thwarted desire. “Get up.” A gruff command that by no means belittled what he was feeling. Only he barely had enough control to keep his body in check. He certainly didn’t have the strength to find polite words. Not then. Not in that moment.

  “Turn around.”

  She did as he said, her cheeks pink, her heart breaking. Had she done something wrong? He had seemed to be enjoying it. But she had no point of reference.

  He positioned her with less care than he’d intended but his body was on fire with the need for possession. He bent her forward so that her hands were against the duvet, and her perfect arse was balanced in the air, and then he drove into her from behind. He laced one hand through her hair, wrapping it around his fist and holding her where he wanted her, while his other hand came to her front and fondled her most sensitive flesh until she was as incandescent with desire as he.

  He felt her pulse from the inside out. She was quivering with the same torrent of desire that was controlling him. He felt her spasm, her muscles warm and tight around his length and still he held her hair, keeping her from moving as she wanted to.

  He waited until she’d stilled, and then went to pull away but she moaned. “Don’t,” she said thickly. “You haven’t ….”

  “No condom,” he said, and it reminded Finn strongly of their first night together.

  Her breath was ragged. “I don’t care, Caradoc. We’re both safe and I’m on the pill. Please. I want to feel you.”

  What was she doing to him? He spent his life playing the odds and there was never a safe way to have unprotected sex. Not when you were as terrified of unplanned pregnancies as he was. And yet he had no strength to resist her. None.

  He thrust into her and felt her buck back against him. Just like that, years of self-control and iron-tight will power evaporated. Just like that, he spilled into her, his cry a guttural sound of acknowledgement. His body had met its match; his soul had found its master.

  And he’d never known greater fulfilment nor fear.

  Recognition of the importance of
that moment terrified him. How could it not?

  He was detached afterwards.

  Not intentionally, but his mind was troubled.

  Never had he wanted a woman so badly that he’d disobeyed common sense.

  He dressed quickly, returning himself to a state of business-readiness in the hope it would obliterate the base pleasure he’d just sought.

  He had worked for this day for two years and now he was there, poised to take over a Fortune 500 company and all before lunch.

  “I’ll be back later,” he said without meeting her eyes. His mind should have been on the boardroom of people who would, by now, have been seated, drinking coffee, politely waiting for his arrival. But she smelled so good, he longed to pull her into his arms.

  Finn didn’t seem to mind that he was barely there with her. Her body was zipping and she felt powerful! She felt alive!

  “Shall I organise dinner?” There was a delicious little restaurant downstairs and they’d been working their way through the menu. Though they both preferred to order take out, and eat in the privacy of his apartment, where they could indulge whatever fantasy happened upon them.

  “I don’t know.” What had just happened? Had he really fucked Finn without using a condom? Panic curdled his blood. He needed distance. He needed fucking distance! “I’ll be later than that.”

  “Oh.” Her face was disappointed. He didn’t look properly, but he knew her now as well as he knew himself. Another fact that sent him spiralling into a well of fear.

  She opened her mouth to say something, but Caradoc was at the door to their room. No, his room. This was his apartment. His bedroom. His life. “Don’t wait up, Seraphina.”

  He left without a backwards glance and Finn was alone, lurching from pleasure to agony in the space of a moment.

  Had she done something wrong? Had she been too demanding?

  It was obvious that he had left in a state of shock. Anger. Distraction. Which was it? How was he feeling? She didn’t know how she could fix what had happened if she didn’t know what had upset him.

  She lay back against the pillows and stared up at the ceiling with every intention of getting up and showering, only satisfaction spread through her body making her limbs heavy and her mind sluggish.