She straddled him and ran her hands over his body. He was so still. Letting her. Yet resisting her inwardly. He’d learned such control. He needed to unlearn it.
And she just needed to touch him. She was firm. Gentle. Reverent. Then rougher. As she released her grip on her own desire, her pace picked up, her intentions deepened, her need coiled. Her breathing shallowed, her heat spiked.
He was so strong. So alone. So worthy of so much more. And now she was angry. He should have had everything. She would give him everything she could right now. With a blind kind of fury, she ached to make him feel the way he made her feel—wanted. So. Damn. Much.
She slid up the length of his body, desperately kissing him, stroking, sucking him hard and then grinding her heat on him, until he flipped—literally holding her to him and flipping them both so he was above her…within her.
‘Yes,’ she cried out as he thrust to the hilt.
But he stopped—straining—his eyes closed, his jaw clenched as he fought to regain his control.
‘Don’t stop,’ she ordered, gazing up at him. ‘Don’t shut me out.’
His hands gripped her thighs deliciously hard. She knew he couldn’t resist this for much longer. He shuddered as she moved beneath him sinuously, easing her own ache, enticing him to complete abandonment.
His eyes opened. ‘I don’t like losing control of my emotions, Ettie,’ he grated.
‘Is it losing control of them?’ she challenged him. ‘Or is it just expressing them?’
He was still for a searing moment more. Then she saw the flare and felt his sudden shift. He snatched the pen securing her hair—freeing it into a wild tumble around her shoulders. He wound thick hanks of it around his wrists—literally binding her to him and cradling her head in his fingers so he could see into her eyes, so he could devour her mouth. The tug was strong, but not painful as her head tilted back at his pull—exposing her mouth, her neck, her breasts to his ravenous, rough kisses.
‘I like it,’ she admitted with low, savage hunger. ‘I like touching you. I like seeing you like this. I want you like this.’
‘On the edge?’ he growled, twisting his hands again to shorten the tie between them.
‘Over it,’ she said brazenly. ‘With me.’
He swore bluntly and drove into her, again and again. Ruthlessly, out of control, he claimed his place in her very core—pushing harder, faster, deeper. This wasn’t fun or easy or light. It was the most bared, the most touched she’d ever been. The lump in her throat ached. She’d been alone too. She’d been alone so long, but right now—he was here, right here, literally bound to her. Inside her totally. Her eyes stung because she was exposed—vulnerable and shaking and so damn needy of this. His kiss, his possession. She felt the wild emotion storming through him and into her, only to transform again into something wonderful that they then rode together. He growled again as she arched, pressing herself closer still, wrapping her legs and arms tightly around him, holding him so they were utterly inseparable. His kiss devastated her. Unleashed emotion rippled between them like electricity—a power surge energising them both into frantic, clawing creatures seeking oblivion in this dark, magic world they made together. She gasped as he thrust harder and harder. He was so powerful. And she so complete. All thought was gone, all words. There was only animal sensation, animal sounds…and then screaming, orgasmic agony.
* * *
Leon flinched, suddenly wide awake. It was completely dark. Despite the warmth of the soft woman curled next to him, he was freezing. His heart was pounding as if he’d been sprinting for his life. He’d woken like this so many times in his youth and he hated it.
Despite the pleasure he’d had with Ettie tonight, he was now tossed back into that old torment. That stupid talk had stirred up thoughts. Memories. Feelings.
Fear.
He should have kept it in, resisted his own damn temptation. But that gift, Ettie’s sweetness, cracked him open. Now he tried to empty his mind again but those malevolent memories swirled, relentless. They’d been woken.
He’d kept it all buried for so long—had hidden that dark, incomplete side of himself from everyone. Living alone it didn’t matter, it was easy. But in marriage?
He didn’t want to poison her with it. He wished he’d never told her. To complain of a little punishment? Of loneliness? He’d been as weak as his mother had warned. What he needed was his control back.
He slid out of bed silently so he didn’t wake Ettie and quickly checked the small puppy. It was fast asleep and warm in its little bed. Leon opened up his laptop in the lounge and tried to work. But his mind was fragmented and he’d achieved little by the time dawn finally began to lighten the dark.
He showered, standing for a long time under the steaming jet—trying to relax. He’d get through the weekend, he’d fall back into bed with her…
But he hadn’t even made it to Saturday before falling apart. Having her this close was confusing, constricting…those stirred-up memories still prickled like thorns in a blood-splattered bouquet in a damn low-budget horror film. Reaching out, he flicked the faucet to cold and suffered the pelting icy droplets. They were like little knives, pinkening up soft skin. Those memories surged.
He braced. He’d beaten them a long time ago. Banished them. And he’d banish them again now because he was not that boy any more. He had control. He flicked the faucet back to warm. Yeah. He had power. And he would make this work.
He’d talked about it with Ettie—told her far more than he’d ever intended. Surely he’d satisfied her infernal curiosity at last? So now it was done and behind them for ever.
He’d get this back to the practical, responsible arrangement he needed it to be.
He breathed in and quietly walked to the bedroom to grab some clothes. Then he got back to his computer. Focused. Calm. Ready.
But Ettie walked into the lounge an hour later, looking like sunshine in a simple denim skirt and white T-shirt. One look and he felt that hard-wrestled-for control slip again. Every time he so much as looked at her it was like that thing bound tightly within him was loosened. But it was something he didn’t want released. Not ever.
‘You’re working already?’ she asked.
He nodded, fighting the urge to reach out and touch her. To use sex as his distraction again, as she’d teased the other day…
But last night—how good she’d felt, how intense that had been with her…that hadn’t just been distraction. It had been much more than simple, mindless fun. And it couldn’t be like that again.
‘I’ve fed the puppy; he’s asleep again,’ he said after clearing his throat. ‘We’ll take him for a walk later.’
She nodded and sauntered through to the kitchen looking like the sexiest, sweetest thing he’d ever seen. He breathed out as she left. See? He could resist. She’d claimed control, but he had it back. Just.
Oh, who was he kidding?
Only now he realised the troubling truth: she was his weakness—Ettie Roberts herself. His slide into addiction had already started and he hadn’t realised because she felt so good. But she was what he craved—all the time. But he couldn’t use her in that way, as if she were his personal opiate. He had to dial it back. He had lost control last night and he’d not expressed anything other than pure, selfish greed.
He refused to be all over her. Sure, they’d sleep together and they’d have this baby, but he’d pull himself together properly and remind them both that this was just another business arrangement. That was all it could ever be.
CHAPTER TEN
ETTIE WAS ACUTELY relieved when Monday finally arrived. It wasn’t that the weekend had been awful… She and Leon had walked the puppy, wandered around the markets, watched a movie rather than go to that concert—her pick. He’d driven her out of town specially to dine at another amazing restaurant… It was as if he was determined they’d be a normal couple—albeit one with luxurious experiences. She knew he wanted to make this work and she knew he’d be loyal. He ha
d his own brand of duty and honour burned in him. He had everything else too—humour, looks, a bank balance big enough to make anyone’s eyes water. And he was so attentive, always ensuring she had what she needed.
Almost all she needed.
But there’d been no more mad, unrestrained sex on the floor, in the kitchen, in the lounge…in fact there’d been no touching at all until darkness fell. But then when it did…?
They’d come together with a wordless intensity that neither of them had addressed afterwards. Neither Saturday nor Sunday. But all through both nights that raw, unrestrained passion had been unleashed. That genie was well out of the bottle now. Leon had made her moan and shake, he’d stripped her back to pure nerves and he’d roared with her, riding her hard. Again. Again. Again. Through the darkness they’d clung to each other, almost crazed with need. Neither of them could get enough and neither of them denied it. Until daylight. Then they were returned to that beautifully curated lifestyle of breakfast at a cute deli, a walk in the park, pondering his next art selection at an elite auction house…but no argument or discussion of anything deep. And that was why she was relieved by the prospect of work. She needed the time away from him so she could think. Because it wasn’t quite right—not since that acutely profound moment on Friday night.
Now she shimmied into her uniform and brushed her hair into submission, ready to face her first day in her new position.
‘Here…’ Leon was in the kitchen, dressed in a charcoal suit, looking more remote and businesslike than ever. ‘Something for your first day as manager.’
She picked up the beautiful business satchel he’d pushed across the counter towards her. She saw the gold insignia and drew in a steadying breath. This wasn’t some knock-off from the street markets, this was real leather, from a real luxury label. ‘You didn’t have to—’
‘Look inside.’ He sipped his coffee and watched her.
She suddenly felt nervous, because his gaze seemed especially dark this morning—the amber glow was absent. She reached for the slim box tucked inside. Pressing her lips together, she lifted the lid.
It was a pen, but not just any pen. The distinctive white star on the cap told her that, as did the intricately engraved gold nib. ‘Leon—’
‘Now you don’t need to steal mine.’ His gaze drifted to her hair and seemed to darken some more. ‘You can keep your hair up with it.’
She shook her head. ‘I’d be too afraid I’d lose it.’ She knew it was worth a crazy amount of money. And it was beautiful—feminine and perfect. But she didn’t know if she could keep accepting these kinds of gifts.
‘Well,’ he set the coffee cup down with a slight bang, ‘you can use it to sign the contract in the folder.’
‘Contract?’
‘The sooner it’s signed off, the sooner I can organise the accounts.’
Accounts? With a growing sense of foreboding Ettie looked into the soft leather case again and drew out the slim Manila folder. She opened it and saw several pages of neat type. She stilled as she read the title—it was the prenuptial contract between her and Leon. Their arrangement in all its ugly glory.
‘I’ll need to take time to read it properly,’ she muttered, feeling a hit of dizziness as she saw the lists of numbers—remuneration. She’d forgotten about their ‘deal’ over the weekend. She’d been too busy trying to breach his defences again the way she had on Friday night. Too busy trying to restore her own inner equilibrium. And she’d failed on both counts.
His lips twisted. ‘Sure. Get it back to me later today.’
She frowned as she studied one page more carefully—the itemised list of her benefits. ‘This monthly allowance…is for groceries and everything?’
‘No, it’s your personal allowance.’
But it was more than what she was paid for her job at Cavendish House! She looked up to glare at him.
‘You need new clothes and things…’
Her fury mounted and he fell silent at the expression in her eyes. Yeah, he knew she was insulted. But what was worse was that she knew he’d done this deliberately to engender such a reaction in her. Well, it had worked.
‘And I get an annual bonus each year for remaining married to you?’ she clarified with barely disguised rage.
He lifted that damned coffee cup to his lips again.
‘You think I’ll respond to that kind of financial incentive?’
‘Doesn’t everyone?’ he asked coolly.
After she’d opened up to him so completely? After what they’d shared on Friday night? Hurt swept over her in a violent wave. Yet immediately after it followed a deep resignation—and regret. Because she remembered she’d already responded to a financial inducement. It was why she’d agreed to marry him in the first place. This was just the painful reminder of that reality—in cold black and white print.
She shuffled the odious pages together and shoved them into the damned gorgeous bag, tossing the pen in too, not bothering with the perfect little presentation box. ‘I’d better get to work; I don’t want to be late.’
‘I’ll drop you.’
‘No need.’ She turned a huge smile on him as she marched out of the room. ‘I’m happy to walk.’
To her enormous relief—and no small amount of regret—he didn’t follow her. She breathed quick, steadying breaths all the way to Cavendish House but her nausea had returned. And all her horror.
Yet why should she be so angry about it? Shouldn’t she take this as the business opportunity it was? He was giving her everything she could ever want, right?
Because he didn’t really want this. Not with her.
He’d lifted that curtain and told her about his life and he regretted it. Not just a wince of embarrassment, but an excoriating extent of regret. He’d pretended he didn’t, he didn’t show any outward emotion, but she’d seen it eating him, she’d sensed his withdrawal as he sought to rebuild walls he thought were weakened. All weekend she’d hoped—but he hadn’t opened up again. Instead he’d made it all about her. As if he was determined to make her happy—as if it was another job for him to entertain her. Despite their intimacy, the distance she’d felt between them wasn’t breached. And she knew the effort he’d made was unsustainable. If it was this hard for him now, she couldn’t see how it was going to work for long in the future.
And he’d been busy in the background, hadn’t he? Working out his damned clinical contract to seal them both into nothing but a seedy money-for-marriage transaction.
To think she’d actually thought for a moment that they might’ve become something more. To think she’d actually had that fantasy of happy-ever-after. That she’d actually had hope that with time…
One look at that contract and she knew there was no chance. His regret was all-consuming. She’d feel sorry for him if she wasn’t so hurt. Did he really think so little of her? Think she’d accept money to make their marriage last month by month?
Now she’d never felt as exposed or as insecure in all her life. Not when her mother had got her diagnosis, or when her ex had texted to tell her the wedding was off. Neither compared to the uncertainty she felt now. Her heart raced as if she’d sprinted her way to work. And now she had to maintain the lie in front of her friends—act ecstatic and in love and all that…it was too hard and all she wanted to do was cry.
Work. Be like Leon. Get it done.
She had to get it done. She couldn’t let that contract ruin her career as well. She’d worked too hard for it. She just needed to find the time to work out what she was going to do about Leon next. She’d have to do that later.
So she smiled with pure determination as Joel held the door to the concierge office open for her when she arrived, and when he bowed as she walked through.
‘Stop it.’ She tried to laugh it off.
‘You’re the boss now… I have to bow and scrape.’
‘Ettie,’ Jess squealed and leapt up from the seat she’d been sitting on, obviously waiting for her arrival. ‘You should he
ar the rumours about you.’ She pounced on her and grabbed Ettie’s hand, her eyes bugging as she inspected the emerald and diamonds. ‘OMG, it’s true. I’m so thrilled for you.’ Jess swept her up in a giant hug. ‘When you fainted and he carried you up to the penthouse, it was the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen.’
Ettie hid her face in Jess’s shoulder. Her friend’s congratulations were heartfelt but she felt hideously awkward. Her engagement wasn’t romantic at all, but a business arrangement with benefits.
‘And you’ve worked so hard, you deserve your promotion,’ Joel said a little gruffly.
‘He’s pleased because he gets promoted too,’ Jess teased Joel with sparkling eyes. ‘What you deserve, Ettie, is happiness.’
Ettie blinked back the shockingly sudden surge of tears. She’d worked alongside these guys for years and seeing them this happy for her was…overwhelming. And awkward. So awkward. She blew out a quick breath and smiled as Joel and Jess left the office to get on with their jobs. She could hold it together. It was just hormones and tiredness and the horror of that awful agreement that she couldn’t think about right now…
The morning went swiftly because it was perfectly, blessedly busy. But just as she’d finally settled into the swing of it, someone called her to the front desk.
‘Hey!’
Ettie’s legs suddenly weakened. ‘Ophelia?’
‘Yes!’ Her little sister rushed over and pulled her into a huge hug, managing to dance a small jig at the same time.
‘Why are you here? Is everything okay?’ Ettie’s heart thudded.
‘Everything is fabulous.’
Ophelia leaned back and Ettie got a good look at her. Her sister, taller than Ettie, was stunning even in her slightly faded second-hand blazer. Her hair was chestnut and shining and her skin and smile just glowed with health.
‘I’m in London for a debating tournament.’
Modern Romance May 2019: Books 5-8 Page 47