by Elise Noble
“I’m never touching alcohol again.”
“I thought that too, so I asked the chef to make us a nice dessert instead.” Russell grimaced slightly. “Which unfortunately turned out to be champagne mousse with sangria sorbet. How do you feel about cheese and biscuits?”
“I’m good with cheese and biscuits.”
And I was good with him showing me how to roast the beef and fry the mushrooms and wrap the whole lot in prosciutto and pastry to bake. Like yesterday with golf, he had a way of manhandling me around the kitchen, gently and with the lightest of touches. By the time the vegetables went in to roast, I needed to concertina myself into the ice bucket to cool off.
How was this man still single? When we first met, he mentioned that he’d split up with a girlfriend before he travelled to Egypt, and honestly, the woman must have lost her mind.
“I feel as though I should dress up for this dinner,” I said in an attempt to steer my dirty mind back to cleaner territory.
“Really? I was thinking the opposite. This won’t be ready for half an hour, and the pool’s right there. Want to cool off?”
More than he could ever know. I nodded before I’d fully thought the situation through, only for flames to lick up my insides when Russell pulled off his polo shirt and headed for the terrace. Oh, crap.
Don’t drool, Kylie. “I, uh, just need to change into my bathers.”
And maybe take a cold shower while I was at it. Someone up there hated me.
Hated me enough to send me back out to the swimming pool in a bikini and make me sit there for thirty minutes talking to a man who seemed genuinely interested in having a conversation as opposed to staring at my boobs.
Why? Why? Why?
Even when he put his shirt back on and I covered up with a filmy sundress that came courtesy of Bradley, my stupid hormones didn’t let up. And worse, the food tasted as good as it looked. With each mouthful, I stewed over every moment I’d spent with Russell, from the time in Egypt to our occasional meetings at Riverley to the disastrous golf outing to his words last night.
“Are you okay?” he asked when I dropped my fork on my empty plate. “You’ve gone quiet.”
“Just thinking.”
If Michael had been sitting opposite, I’d have gotten a snarky, “Dare I ask?” But this was Russell.
“Want to talk about it?”
Not really, but I had to because otherwise I’d never know. And the not knowing was eating me up inside.
“Last night, when you carried me to bed…”
His phone buzzed, and he glanced down at it. Normally, I hated the way the stupid thing stole his attention, but at that particular second, I was grateful for the lack of eye contact.
“Yes?”
“We were kinda close, and you said you wouldn’t do anything when I was drunk.”
“Of course not. I’d never take advantage of a woman.”
“Would you have done something if I wasn’t drunk?”
Now I had his attention. He peered at me over the top of his glasses, and all my blood ran south.
“Yes.”
Yes. A simple, honest answer I hadn’t truly been expecting.
But what should I do about it?
Slowly, deliberately, I pushed our plates and glasses to the side. Leaned across the table propped up on my elbows, never breaking eye contact with him. It was as if the devil herself had taken over, and I was just along for the ride.
“I’m not drunk now.”
The bloody phone buzzed again, so I picked it up and tossed it into the swimming pool.
“What the—” Russell started.
“It’s waterproof. It’ll still be there in half an hour.”
He stared at the phone as it sank, then slowly turned back to me. Now what? Was he angry? He looked kind of intense. My heart thumped against my ribcage, threatening to break its way out. What had I done?
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
After the briefest hesitation, he hooked his hands under my armpits and dragged me right over the damn table.
“You think this is going to be over in half an hour, Kylie?”
Oh, holy mother of hotness. Those eyes had gone from coppery brown to dark to fiery, and now it was my turn to stare after the phone.
“Uh, then perhaps you should—”
“I’ve got a spare,” he said. Then he kissed me, and I discovered yet another hidden side to Russell Weisz. What the hell had those nuns taught him at boarding school?
My toes curled into my thongs as his tongue parted my lips, and I had to clutch at his shoulders to keep my balance. He soon adjusted his grip, wrapping his arms around me, his hands gathering the colourful beach cover-up Bradley had insisted I bring even though I thought it was too bright.
Russell paused as if to ask me if this was okay, and I moaned an unintelligible “yes” into his mouth. Fortunately, he understood, and those hands cupped my butt cheeks, sliding under my bikini bottoms and tipping me against his chest.
Exactly where I wanted to be.
Well, almost exactly. I broke the kiss long enough to drag Russell’s shirt over his head. Better.
Russell didn’t have sculpted muscles like Michael, the muscles I’d lost my mind over almost four years previously. But he ate well and the evidence of his gym sessions showed, which now that I’d taken off my rose-tinted glasses, left him looking just perfect in my eyes.
I deepened the kiss, walking my fingertips up his spine, taking in every contour of his body. The smooth skin. The hint of stubble speckling his jaw. The strong arms and the way I fitted so comfortably into them.
Laughter drifted across as other guests made their way down the path to the beach, and I sent a silent thank you to Emmy not only for engineering this trip in the first place but for the screen of plants and trees that gave the terrace its privacy. Nobody could see us, even if Russell bent me nuddy over the table. Which was a distinct possibility, the way things were going. I mean, I could be naked in seconds. My entire outfit was held together with five bows.
Heat pooled in my belly, and the bulge growing against my stomach? I never would’ve guessed Russell was packing that in his shorts.
I slid a hand between us and copped a feel. Staked my claim. He stiffened in more ways than one.
“Are we moving too quickly?” he asked.
“Right now, we’re not moving quick enough.”
A pause, and he made up his mind. Fumbled a hand under my hair, and the cover-up pooled at my feet, leaving me in the tiniest bikini Bradley had packed, one I thought I’d never wear until Russell’s words last night encouraged me. He tugged the end of the tie.
“I’ve been wanting to do this since we got here, but I thought you’d castrate me.”
“I probably would have at the beginning of the week.”
“What changed?”
A good question. Everything, and at the same time, not enough. Not yet. But that didn’t stop me from wanting to haul Russell into bed tonight.
“I changed.”
That answer seemed to satisfy him, and he cupped my breasts, dipped his head, and drew one nipple into his mouth, sending me halfway to heaven when he sucked. Fire kindled inside of me, igniting, sending sparks through every limb. Sparks that flared into flames when he gave the other breast equal attention.
I tried to undo my bikini bottoms, but he stopped me with a shake of his head.
“Why?” I asked.
“There’s no rush.” He brought my hand to his lips, kissed each knuckle in turn. “We’ve got all night, and I want to take my time with you.”
He swept my hair to one side and nuzzled my neck, ran the tip of his tongue along my jaw and made goosebumps pop out on my arms. I could practically smell the pheromones mixed in with his woodsy aftershave.
This…this… Was this how it should be? Was a man meant to wind you up tighter, tighter, like an elastic band stretching to its snapping point? I was by no means a virgin, but not one man had ever made me feel so vulnerable, so n
eedy, so strung-out with desire. Michael had rubbed away until I came—or pretended to come if I just wanted to get it over with—then taken whatever he wanted. I thought that was normal.
Yet another thing I’d been wrong about, it seemed.
A squeal escaped my lips as Russell picked me up in a move reminiscent of last night, except this time, he didn’t part his lips from mine. I clung to him as he kicked the door shut behind him and carried me into my bedroom. Set me on my feet. Lowered me gently onto the bed, still without breaking the kiss.
Somewhere along the way, I’d lost my bikini bottoms, and thank goodness I’d tidied up down there. I’d scoffed when Bradley sent me to get everything waxed “just in case,” but now it seemed I owed him a box of chocolates or something.
“Fuck me,” Russell muttered when he cupped my mound. “You’re bare.”
It was the first time I’d heard him curse properly, and the words sent another flash of heat between my legs.
“Say it again.”
“You’re bare?”
“No, the first part.”
“Fuck me?”
“I want to.”
I reached for his cock again, but this time, I got a shake of his head plus a smile.
“Not yet.”
“But—”
One finger. One finger, that was all it took. One slim finger that trailed through my slick centre then pressed on the sweet spot, sending me arching off the bed. I’d seen those elegant hands dancing over the keyboard a hundred times, but I never realised quite what they were capable of. Or indeed Russell’s tongue.
By the time he’d finished with me, I was a quivering mess. Less coherent even than on my first night out of Australia, a night when I’d cried myself to sleep out of anger and fear.
And he was still wearing his bloody shorts.
But this time when I reached for them, he didn’t stop me, just raised his hips so I could slide them down to his ankles, and then kicked them off.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked.
“I’ve been naked underneath you for the past hour. I think if I wasn’t, I’d have let you know sooner.”
“I like your mouth,” he said, leaning in for another kiss before I rolled to the side and yanked open the nightstand drawer. Thank goodness for Akeem and his dirty mind. I selected a condom, tore it open, and rolled it on.
When Russell slid inside, I let out a little giggle at the squelching noise, but he didn’t crack a smile. No, he held my gaze until he was in to the hilt, then closed his eyes on a sigh. Good. It felt so good. Like I’d just found the missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle in the most unexpected place. And when he opened his eyes and started to move, I gave up on any attempt at decorum, screaming and moaning and finally gasping out his name as my third orgasm tore through me. One last thrust, and he came with a soft grunt, returning the favour.
“Kylie.”
I buried my face in his neck, trying to blink back the tears gathering, but of course he noticed. When he took his nose out of his computer, he was scarily perceptive.
“What’s wrong?” He tried to roll off me, but I tightened my grip. “Are you crying?”
“No. Yes. Sort of. I’m emotional, that’s all. Just acting like a girl.”
“We all get emotional. Men are just better conditioned to hide it.” He kissed the wet tracks on my cheeks. “It’s never been like that for me before.”
“Me neither.”
Now the tears came thick and fast, and this time, Russell did get up. Got up and walked out the door the way I’d done so many times in the past. I’d never returned. Not once. I felt bereft until Russell came back with a clean cotton handkerchief.
“Here.” He wiped away the mess, then snuggled me against his chest. Michael had never been a cuddler, and the move left me confused for a moment. I hadn’t had anyone to lean on for so, so long, and now the sweetest man was offering me a shoulder to cry on, quite literally. And that only made me more of a wreck.
I’d been the queen of one-night stands for years, but I never wanted this night to end.
CHAPTER 13 - KYLIE
AN UNFAMILIAR RINGING woke me, and it took a moment before I realised it was coming from the phone on the nightstand. The landline, not my mobile. I had no idea where I’d even left that.
“Who’s that? What’s happened?”
Russell’s arm snaked across me, and the events of last night came flooding back. Dinner. Him pulling me across the table. The best sex I’d ever had.
“It’s just a wake-up call.” He grabbed the receiver, spoke a few words, and hung up again. “I thought that’d be easier than trying to retrieve my phone from the swimming pool in the middle of the night or digging out a spare.”
“Oh my gosh. I can’t believe I did that. I’m so, so sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was worth it.” He moved back my hair so he could see my eyes. “Are you okay now?”
“Honestly? I have no idea.”
And I really didn’t, because a thousand thoughts hit me like a freight train. What was last night? Hot as hell, obviously, but apart from that? Russell was going home as soon as we either got this mess sorted out or I went to jail, whichever came sooner, and I’d been starting to like him even before he gave me three mind-blowing orgasms. At best, this could be a one-weekend stand, and at the end of it, I’d be left broken no matter what.
No, I wasn’t okay.
But rather than try to explain, I just closed my eyes as Russell kissed me on the forehead.
“We can talk later, but Leyton’s coming at ten, and I thought you’d want time to freshen up. I left you to sleep as long as I could.”
“What time is it?”
“A quarter past nine. And I have a video-conference in fifteen minutes. One of those board meetings I mentioned. It shouldn’t take more than an hour, but…”
“I understand. You have to work.”
“I’d much rather shut out the world and spend the weekend in here with you.”
The weekend. Seemed we were on the same page with the timescale. My smile felt shaky, but I hoped it looked sultry, or at the very least, confident.
“We can pick up where we left off later?”
“Too damn right. But as long as Leyton doesn’t put me to work again, why don’t we go out for a few hours this afternoon first? You can choose the activity this time.”
Russell didn’t want to go straight back to bed? At first, that disappointed me, but I quickly realised that having a man who wanted me by his side as well as on my back wasn’t exactly a bad thing.
“Any preferences?”
“Surprise me.”
Surprise him. No golf, no sharks, no alcohol. What did that leave?
“You seem edgy this morning,” Leyton said when I sat down with him on the terrace. Russell had commandeered the living room for his conference call.
“Edgy? How?”
“Sort of…smiley but nervous?”
That just about summed up the current state of affairs. “I guess I’m just worried about tomorrow. How’s it going?”
“We’ve had some difficult questions from the Feds regarding where our information’s coming from and why we’re getting it, but we’ve sidestepped them so far.”
“So far?”
“That’s why I’m here to talk to you. We want to put a backup plan in place in case you have to leave in a hurry. If anyone works out you’re our source, this place is connected to Blackwood.”
My guts clenched. “You think something’s gonna go wrong?”
“There’s no reason why it should. Call it Mimi and her paranoia, but she’s insisting. We’ve got a pilot on standby to get you out of here if the need arises, but do you have a preference over where you’d want to go?”
This wasn’t so much an emotional rollercoaster as an emotional stunt plane. The constant loop-the-loops and sharp turns left my insides churning. But deep down, I’d known this might happen, and at least I was getting some help with my es
cape. I should pack a bag, get ready.
“Morocco’s next on my list.”
“Morocco. Okay, we can do that.” Leyton drained the last of his coffee and stood. “I should get back and make the arrangements.”
“That’s it? Don’t you need to talk to Russell?”
“No, I just wanted to speak to you in person about this.” Leyton’s mask of professionalism slipped for a second. “Fuck, we all know Brenner and Mills are guilty, but they’re slippery as hell. What you’re going through…this never should’ve happened.”
“But it did.”
“I promise I’m doing everything I can. Everyone at Blackwood is.”
Yes, they were, and I was more grateful for that than they’d ever know. But would it be enough?
“Did you make a decision?” Russell asked.
With the villa to ourselves again, he pulled me in for a kiss, and the moment our tongues touched, I sank into his arms. He stole my breath, his heart beating against mine. I was lost, but at the same time, I was found.
Back when we were teenagers, Chloe used to tell me it was always the quiet ones, and I never understood quite what she meant. But now I did.
“Yes, I made a decision.” Inhale, Kylie. Exhale. “Jet skiing. We’re going jet skiing.”
Russell went rigid. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Not really. Sharks don’t often jump out of the water.”
“Define ‘not often.’”
“Maybe once or twice. Just don’t look on YouTube.”
“You’re not exactly filling me with confidence.”
“Trust me, it’ll be okay.” I tried to push him towards the bedroom to change, but he stopped me. Held me still then cupped my face in his hands.
“I trust you, Kylie.”
He held my gaze, and that was it. I broke. Completely broke. For so long, I’d tried to stay strong, but every time an obstacle got thrown in my path, the scramble over or around or through it sapped a little more of my energy. And Russell had spent the past few days knocking the last of my walls down, whether he realised it or not. Nobody had ever said those words to me. Not my parents, not Chloe, and certainly not Michael. To me, they were worth a million of the glib “I love yous” he’d tossed in my direction.