by Nicola Marsh
‘The fishing jaunt was a success, I see?’
‘Never any doubt.’
Wisely, she kept her doubts that he’d even gone fishing to herself.
Biting into a succulent piece of salmon, she sighed. ‘Aren’t these rivers brimming with salmon? Bet this poor sucker practically leapt onto your hook.’
‘Eat!’ He growled, his eyes glinting with amusement.
They ate in relaxed silence and she savoured every mouthful, enjoying the luxury of having a man cook for her. Julian’s idea of cooking had been ordering the caterers to stock the freezer with pre-cooked meals.
After she’d cleaned her plate, she sat back and patted her stomach.
‘That was some dinner.’
He smiled, his teeth glowing in the reflected firelight.
‘Wait ’til you see dessert.’
Jade gulped, unable to move as he reached over and took her plate, his hand brushing hers, sending sparks shooting from her fingertips to her toes. Their eyes locked and she could’ve sworn electricity sizzled in the air.
‘Don’t move. I’ll be right back.’
Watching him stroll out of the room, faded denim clinging to his sensational butt, she wavered.
If she didn’t move, she was in serious danger of falling flat on her back and yelling, ‘Take me now!’ when he came back.
If she moved, she’d miss out on all the fabulous stuff that would happen if she did fall flat on her back and yell, ‘Take me now!’
Dilemmas, dilemmas…
He took the decision out of her hands, returning quickly with a platter of strawberries and melted chocolate.
‘Oh, boy, you sure know the way to a girl’s stomach,’ she said, snaffling a strawberry and popping it in her mouth before he could set them down on the rug.
He paused, sent her a sizzling look. ‘Maybe it’s not the girl’s stomach I’m after.’
The stomach in question belly-flopped at the intent in his eyes, her heart joining her tummy in an impressive somersault routine.
Thankfully, he turned away to tend to the fire and she leaned back, propped on outstretched arms, content to watch, loving the way the muted firelight played across the sharp angles of his face, how it shimmered orange against his Western shirt. Definite possibilities with that shirt, considering the pop buttons all the way down the front…
‘That should keep us warm for a while.’
He sat next to her, his thigh barely inches from her own, a slow-building heat radiating between them. Or was it just the heat from the fire, with her imagination working overtime?
‘Dessert?’
His low, husky voice rippled over her and before she could launch herself at him with a resounding yes, he offered her the platter of strawberries.
‘Thanks, my favourite.’
Before she could pick one he chose the plumpest, juiciest strawberry, whisked it through the chocolate and offered it to her, hovering a hair’s-breadth in front of her lips.
Guess this answered her earlier question of what was he doing. Every slow-motioned action, every glimmer in those too-blue eyes, every tilt of those sexy lips, screamed seduction.
After spending so many tense moments retreating from her, he’d finally decided to stop running. She should ponder why; why the sudden turnaround, why now, after he’d made it clear this wasn’t a good idea.
But as he brushed the strawberry over her bottom lip in a slow, sensual sweep she wanted to lose herself in the moment and to hell with any questions.
Her eyes didn’t leave his as she slowly opened her lips, moved a fraction and enclosed her mouth over the deliciously smooth chocolate tip.
She moaned, her eyelids drifting shut as she bit into the strawberry, savouring the explosion of sweet tanginess mingling with the luscious chocolate, her senses on overload as she took the whole fruit in her mouth, her tongue flicking out, only to encounter a fingertip.
She could’ve sworn Rhys’s moan echoed hers, but as her eyes flew open he’d sat back, placing the tray within reaching distance if she wanted more. She’d never considered fruit erotic, but she sure as heck would view strawberries a whole lot different after tonight.
As she plucked another strawberry off the plate, popped it in her mouth, she sighed in contentment. He couldn’t have planned a more lovely evening. So where did they go from here? Damned if she was going to fling herself at him again, which meant Ranger would have to make the first move.
The fire crackled and hissed and spluttered, punctuating the silence, as she shoved a few more strawberries into her mouth so she wouldn’t have to speak.
‘Want to hear a story?’
‘Sure.’
Anything to distract from the temptation of sitting this close to a guy who had the potential to fulfil every one of her wildest fantasies.
‘The Alaskan people believe strongly in their traditions. Each tradition has a purpose and this is one of my favourites. The Alaskan women always had long, beautiful hair. A woman in mourning would cut her hair short and wear tattered clothes. She would keep this up ’til her husband’s potlatch, or burial ceremony, was over. Only then did she fix herself up again and think of marriage.’
She had the distinct impression there was a hidden meaning behind his story.
‘Are you trying to tell me you can’t move on from something in the past ’til you’ve buried it?’
He continued to stare into the fire. ‘I just like the story. I can’t imagine being that in love with anyone, let alone wanting to move on so soon after their death. Good luck to the people who find that kind of love.’
Silence descended, punctuated by the crackling of wood as the flames consumed it.
‘Are you over Julian?’
His question came out of left field.
She turned to stare at the enigmatic man by her side.
‘Where did that come from?’
He shrugged, still avoiding her gaze. ‘Just wondered.’
‘I’m well and truly over him and much the wiser. I’ll never fall for that type of guy again.’
Her vehemence must’ve struck a chord as he turned to look at her. ‘What type is that?’
‘Charming, demanding, successful, mega-wealthy.’
‘Funny, you could’ve just described me,’ he said, staring directly into her eyes.
‘If the shoe fits.’
She shrugged, tried to make it sound light-hearted but her words sounded mean even to her own ears and he visibly recoiled.
‘Sorry. There are loads of differences between you and Julian.’
Reaching out, she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Big mistake. He covered it with his own hand, caressing her with his thumb.
‘Let’s hope this is just one of them,’ he muttered as he pulled her towards him.
His lips covered hers in an explosion of searing heat. Lips and tongues fused, melding together in endless, unquenchable hunger.
Long, hot kisses that deepened and delved until she couldn’t breathe.
Soft, moist, seductive kisses that stole her heart along with her breath.
She knew this was crazy, knew it would change their working relationship, but every glance, every touch, every conversation had been leading to this point and she had no intention of letting him back down now.
Besides, she couldn’t think with his hands everywhere, tugging at the shirt tucked into her waistband, stroking her back, winding through her tangled hair.
How could she have dared to compare this man with Julian? They were nothing alike; Rhys had the power to undo her completely and she’d never given herself to Julian in that way, ever.
She could see that now, see it all so clearly. Falling in love with a dream, a dream of the perfect romance rather than falling for the man. Silly, naïve, but then, considering her closeted upbringing, maybe she wasn’t completely at fault. Brought up in the lap of luxury, taught to expect the best in everything, she hadn’t doubted Julian and his dazzling image.
Th
ankfully she’d wised up, had her eyes opened in the worst possible way. Now, under the expert tutelage of Rhys with his sensual, searing kisses and his soothing hands, she could banish memories of her ex once and for all.
She gasped as he unhooked her bra and cupped her breasts in both hands, stroking her hardened nipples, the rigid peaks begging for his touch, and as he nibbled a trail from her mouth to her breast she melted, her bones liquefying.
Leaning back, she exposed her breasts to his feasting mouth as he licked and teased the aching nub on one breast while slowly circling his thumb on the other.
Electrifying shocks shot through her, making her damp with need.
She wanted him. Inside her. Now.
She’d never felt like this. Sex had been fun but rather repetitive, at times unfulfilling. Never had she experienced the heat that raced through her body at Rhys’s touch, threatening to spontaneously combust her on the spot. Rhys and his wondrous tongue were driving her to the brink of losing control and she lapped up every glorious sensation.
Her hands took on a life of their own as she reached for him, ripping his shirt open as she’d yearned to do as soon as she laid eyes on it. Each button gave a satisfying pop as finally she encountered a delectable wall of naked skin.
Her hands went wild, sliding across his chest and downwards to the ridges of abdominal muscle, exploring every smooth contour.
‘You’re so hot,’ she murmured, her hands stilling as they reached his belt, her fingertips skating around his waist, itching to delve deeper.
His hooded gaze followed the route her fingertips took, his body stilling when she hovered over his fly.
Her heart clamoured, filling her ears with a dull roar as he reached out, covered her hand with his and pressed it against the thick bulge.
‘Go ahead, I’m all yours.’
She gasped as his erection leapt beneath her palm, large and hard and begging for attention.
Tentatively at first, she traced its outline, empowered by his ragged breathing, his low moans, his pelvis arching into her hand.
‘Jade…’
Her name tumbled from his lips, half plea, half groan and, emboldened, she slid the long strap of leather through the belt buckle, taking it slow, real slow.
‘You’re killing me,’ he said through gritted teeth, though his heavy passion-glazed stare told her he was enjoying her prolonging the anticipation as much as she was.
Deliberately grazing her knuckles against his erection, she smiled, a purely wicked smile solely for him. ‘That’s not my intention.’
She snapped the top button on his jeans. ‘I want you—’ she grabbed the zipper and tugged it down inch by torturous inch ‘—very much—’ she inveigled her hands beneath the waistband and tugged down, stripping the jeans down his long legs where he shucked out of them ‘—alive.’
All the air whooshed out of her lungs at the sight of him reclining on the plush rug in front of the fire, the flames dancing across his incredible body, wearing nothing but black briefs and a hedonistic smile.
‘You were saying?’
She’d been speaking? Not any more. She’d passed the point of coherent speech about two seconds ago when she’d caught her first glimpse of his gloriously naked body.
Almost.
‘I was saying I want you alive.’ With trembling hands, she slid her fingers into the top of his briefs. ‘For this.’
Her breath along with her fingers snagged as she peeled his briefs off, her hands trembling as his erection jutted towards her, thick and long and proud.
‘Oh, my…’
‘You okay?’
Speechless, she nodded, her eyes fixed on exactly how okay she was.
‘Come here.’
She didn’t have to be asked twice, eager to get naked alongside him, desperate to feel him inside her.
In a frantic rush of tugging hands and tearing cotton, her clothes joined his on the floor, his hands caressing her curves, delving into dips and honing in on the one area about to detonate.
‘Oh, yeah, like that,’ she panted, taking an embarrassingly short time to twist and writhe and beg for release. A release that came moments after he sheathed himself and slid into her with one, smooth thrust.
As he drove into her the friction of their sweat-slicked bodies caused her to climax again, riding crest after crest of exquisite spasms, crying out his name, urging him to join her.
He did with an almighty roar, a deep, guttural sound that made her feel all woman and then some.
She clasped him to her, savouring their intimate bond, not willing to break it just yet.
For she knew what would happen then.
Questions, recriminations, and this felt too damn good to waste time pondering regrets.
Besides, the night was young.
They’d only just started on dessert.
Chapter Twelve
RHYS watched Jade sleep, not caring about his dead arm as her head lay snuggled in the crook of it.
Beautiful awake, she was transcendental asleep, her long eyelashes fanning shadows across her smooth cheeks, her skin flushed from their third sex-capade, her lips curved into a small, satisfied smile.
But it wasn’t her beauty tugging at him as much as her generosity as a lover, her unselfish focus on giving him pleasure, her unbridled enthusiasm.
Jeez, had he misjudged her. Uptight, society princess couldn’t be further from the truth. Warm, passionate woman with a real zest for life would be more apt. And that was what scared him.
He could handle keeping her at arm’s length while he viewed her as remote, untouchable, a fickle woman playing at something new for a while. But with every confidence revealed, with every heart-to-heart chat, with every intimate touch over the last few hours, she’d stripped away every logical, sane reason he should maintain his distance.
A dull ache settled in his chest, a persistent, nagging twinge he remembered too well.
He’d never forget the gut-wrenching agony of hearing the brother he adored had died, the never-ending days, months, where he slowly withdrew into himself until there was nothing left but to run. Run as fast and far as he could get from anything resembling emotional ties.
While he’d built bridges with Callum over the last few years, they were still a long way from being close friends as many brothers were and it suited him just fine.
Being close involved sharing confidences, sharing dreams, and he had a feeling his newly awakened starry-eyed brother wouldn’t understand the relentless, driving need for him to bolt from anything remotely resembling emotion.
He’d never revealed the depth of his involvement with Claudia to Callum, had known his brother would see right through him: that he blamed himself for her death and would shoulder that guilt for the rest of his life, exactly how Callum had done following Archie’s death.
He now understood why Callum had focused one hundred per cent on work after Archie’s death; for being so absorbed in business, so driven to succeed, so hell-bent on success at the cost of everything else, allowed you to forget.
He’d done the same thing after Claudia died, throwing himself into building Wild Thing, pretending to relish the CEO role behind a desk, not returning here.
It had helped for a time, distance from where it had happened allowing him to compartmentalise that part of his life and lock it away. Yet being back here didn’t stir up those memories half as much as what he’d done with Jade last night.
It wasn’t the sex itself but the implied intimacy, the depth of feeling he’d glimpsed in her eyes when he’d been inside her that dredged up part of him best left forgotten, the part of him that dared to feel.
It terrified him. Feeling. He’d loved Archie unreservedly and the pain of his death had shattered him, irrevocably setting him on a life path he still couldn’t veer from. Then Claudia had died, another person he’d risked caring about, cementing what he already knew: being emotionally invested led to eventual grief.
He couldn’t bear go
ing through any of that again: loving, losing, and that was exactly what would happen if he was foolish enough to let Jade into his heart.
Jade stirred, wriggled closer, turning her face to bury it into his chest, and the very organ he’d do anything to protect lurched.
Now he had the added guilt of this.
Far from getting her out of his system, sex with Jade had only served to make him crave her more and he could see the whole scenario of the next few months playing out before his eyes.
Sensational sex, more talks, growing increasingly attached, which would only serve to make him pull back, hurting her in the process.
Just as he’d hurt Claudia doing the same thing; sadly for her, his inherent inability to grow emotionally attached had been fatal.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to block out the feel of Jade snuggled close, tried to erase the image of the two of them doing this on a nightly basis for the rest of her time here.
Most of all, he tried to eradicate the awful, sinking feeling that in such a short time she’d crashed through every preconceived notion he’d ever had and made him truly feel for the first time in for ever.
Jade awoke to the pounding of an axe.
Thud…thud…thud…
She didn’t know whether the sound was real or some misplaced fantasy where Rhys had assumed the starring role of lumberjack.
Stretching, she pried open one eye, then the other, surprised to see sun streaming through her bedroom windows. She hadn’t slept in once since she’d arrived here, preferring to wake at dawn and make the most of every second of every day.
Something she’d certainly done last night and then some! Smiling like a well-satisfied woman, she rolled out of bed, wrapping the sheet around her as she padded across to the window.
A small part of her had hoped she’d wake to find Rhys cuddled up next to her, but she’d given up on believing in fairy tales around the time she’d learned the truth about her parents’ marriage and Julian’s cheating.
Rhys hadn’t made any promises last night. What they’d done was simple: indulge a mutual attraction that had been building towards consummation for a while now.