A Trip with the Tycoon

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A Trip with the Tycoon Page 12

by Nicola Marsh


  ‘That does it.’ He hoisted her over his shoulder, growling when she emptied the last few bags on his back, then proceeded to pummel him with her fists.

  ‘Put me down.’

  He patted her butt in response. ‘Nope, sorry, no can do. This is Holi, remember? Anything goes.’

  ‘I take it back.’

  ‘Too late.’

  She stiffened as he slid a hand up her calf, reaching her thigh, all in the name of getting a better grip. That was his excuse and he was sticking to it.

  ‘Are you copping a cheap feel?’

  ‘No, just don’t want to drop you and ruin your outfit.’

  ‘But it’s already ruined—’

  ‘Gotcha!’

  She pummelled harder, he laughed harder and he jogged the last few metres to her hut, deliberately sliding her down nice and slow, her body deliciously rubbing against his.

  This was madness—pure and utter madness.

  So much for taking things slow.

  Every moment he spent in Tam’s company, he found it harder to resist her, harder not to say caution be damned and sweep her into his arms and make slow, passionate love to her all night long.

  He wanted her. Thoughts of her consumed him every waking moment and most sleeping ones too and now, with her standing less than a foot away, her tie-dyed kaftan plastered to her curvy body, he knew he couldn’t hold out much longer.

  He wanted to do the right thing, give her time to adjust to their new relationship but his knight in shining armour routine had taken a serious beating since he’d arrived on her doorstep earlier that week and she’d welcomed him with open arms.

  ‘So?’

  ‘So…’ His gaze dipped, took in her orange, green and blue spattered face, her purple matted hair and the Technicolor kaftan.

  Despite the mess, she’d never looked so beautiful and he clenched his hands to stop himself from reaching out to her and never letting go.

  ‘Time to clean up.’ She stepped back, as if sensing his urge. ‘Though some of us need more cleaning up than others.’

  She pointed to his irredeemable T-shirt. ‘Not only can some of us not throw, we’re none too crash hot at dodging too.’

  ‘You’re asking for it.’

  He made a grab for her and they tumbled through the doorway, drenched to the skin and laughing uncontrollably.

  ‘You look like a preschooler’s finger-painting.’

  ‘You look worse.’

  They stared at each other and laughed again, as Tamara clutched her side. ‘I’m sore.’

  ‘From taking my direct hits full on?’

  ‘More like from dodging your average throws.’

  He pointed to her powder-spattered kaftan. ‘Then how do you explain all that colour?’

  She shrugged, put a thumb up to her nose and waggled her fingers. ‘Other people.’

  He advanced towards her. ‘Are you saying my aim is lousy?’

  She smiled. ‘Oh, yeah. Though you might’ve landed a few lucky shots. Beginner’s luck and all that.’

  ‘Beginner, huh?’ He continued to advance, his mouth twitching, his eyes filled with devilry and she backed up, stumbling into the bathroom. ‘You going to admit I’m good?’

  He halted less than two feet in front of her, close enough to feel his radiant heat, not close enough according to her body, straining towards him.

  Tilting her chin up, she tossed her bedraggled hair over a shoulder. ‘Never.’

  ‘Never’s a long time, sweetheart.’

  His hand shot out, captured her wrist, tugging her closer and she laughed when their bodies made a strange squelching sound as they came into contact.

  ‘Ready to concede?’

  ‘Nope.’ She shook her head, spraying them with the finest purple droplets, like sparkling amethysts raining from a jewelled sky.

  ‘Well, then, I might just have to make you.’

  His eyes glittered with pure devilry as he lowered his head, brushed his mouth across hers in a slow, masterful kiss that had her clinging to his wet T-shirt, her knees wobbling.

  ‘Concede?’

  Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, still tingling from his kiss. ‘I think I need more convincing.’

  He growled, swept her up in his arms and deposited her on the hand basin, the hard, cold enamel barely registering as he swooped in for another kiss, a fiery, passionate explosion of melding mouths that heated her from the inside out and would’ve dried her clothes if they’d continued.

  But she stopped, uncurled her fingers from where they clung to his T-shirt, all too aware of where this would lead.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  How could she articulate half of what she was feeling?

  Blinding anticipation at being touched by a man after so long?

  Good old-fashioned lust that licked along her veins and made her throb with need?

  Crippling uncertainty that she wouldn’t live up to his expectations?

  Or the mind-numbing fear that, once she took this irreversible step, there’d be no going back?

  Making love with Ethan would be just that for her—making love—and it would cement what she’d known the last few days.

  She’d fallen in love with him.

  Enough to take a chance on love again, enough to want it all—with him.

  ‘Tam?’

  He tipped up her chin, leaving her no option but to stare into his glittering blue eyes, those eyes she’d seen clear and sincere, determined and focused at work, currently a smoky gentian with passion.

  ‘I’m scared.’

  He cupped her cheek, drawing comforting circles in the small of her back with his other hand. ‘I’d never do anything to hurt you.’

  ‘I know, but—’

  ‘But?’

  ‘What if—’ this doesn’t work, this makes you pull back again, this makes me fall in love with you even more and you don’t feel half as much for me as I feel for you?

  ‘What if you stop second-guessing this and let me love you?’

  She knew he meant it as a physical expression of love, but hearing him say the word out loud banished the last of her lingering doubts.

  She’d spent every moment of her marriage carefully weighing and assessing—trying to say the right thing, do the right thing, wear the right thing. And she’d been miserable.

  Now she had a second chance, a real chance at happiness and she’d be a fool to let it slip through her fingers.

  Her hands slid up his chest, caressed his neck, cradled his face as she wrapped her legs around him. ‘What if I show you how much I want this?’

  His face creased into an instant smile, the heartrendingly familiar sexy smile that never failed to set her pulse racing.

  ‘Sounds like a plan.’

  He sent a pointed glance at their clothes. ‘But we’re filthy.’

  Shocked at her bravado, she met his gaze head-on.

  ‘Let’s take a shower, then.’

  His eyes, radiating enough heat to scorch her clothes right off her, never left hers as she reached out, her fingers grappling with the hem of his wet T-shirt before peeling it upwards with slow, exquisite deliberation, revealing inch by inch of spectacular hard, bronzed chest.

  When she reached his shoulders, he helped shrug it off, leaving his torso deliciously bare, beckoning her fingertips to explore.

  And explore she did, smoothing her palms over every hard plane, skating her fingertips over every ridge, every delineation, her breath catching as his hands shot out and captured her wrists.

  ‘My turn,’ he gritted out, ducking for a searing kiss before almost tearing her kaftan off. ‘I’ve waited too long for this to take it slow.’

  ‘Fast is good,’ she gasped as, with a deft flick of the clasp on her bra, he had her breasts spilling free into his waiting hands.

  ‘Ethan…’

  She whispered his name on a sigh, a long, drawn-out, blissful sigh as his mouth replaced his hands until she almost passed out from t
he blinding intensity.

  ‘You’re so beautiful, so responsive,’ he murmured, kissing his way down her body as sensation after sensation slammed into her, rendering a simple task like standing impossible.

  She sagged against the basin, braced her hands on it as his fingers hovered, toyed with the elastic of her panties.

  ‘I want this to be beyond special for you,’ he said, wrenching a low moan from deep within as he set about doing just that.

  She’d never been loved like this, never had a man want to please her first, please her so totally before taking his satisfaction and as Ethan brought her to the peak of ecstasy and she tumbled over the edge into an explosion of mind-numbing bliss, she finally came alive.

  When he stood, she cradled his face, stared into his eyes, hoping he could read the depth of emotion there.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, gasping as he pressed against her, her desire needing little to reignite.

  ‘The pleasure’s all mine.’

  His roguish smile brought out the pirate in him and she gladly wrapped her arms around his waist, more than happy to be ravaged.

  As the steam rose around them, she lost all sense of time. His shorts joined her discarded clothes, his body melded with hers and he made passionate love to her until she almost cried with the beauty of it.

  Later, as he held her close, cocooned in the safety of his arms, the heat from their bodies drying them better than any towels, she knew without a doubt that this man was her destiny.

  Ethan groaned, sat back and patted his stomach. ‘Okay, now I’m done, are you going to tell me what’s in that sorpotel?’

  The corners of Tam’s mouth twitched, the tiny movement slugging him as he recalled in vivid detail how those lips had explored his body last night. He’d dated widely but never had he felt so connected with a woman in the bedroom.

  Though it was more than that and he knew it—knew it with every guarded cell in his body. What he felt for Tam defied description and had him jumpier than a mongoose around a cobra.

  If she’d zapped his control before, he didn’t stand a chance now; he wanted her more than ever. It was like sampling the finest Shiraz Grenache: one taste was never enough.

  ‘You sure you want to know?’

  He pointed to the empty bowl, where he’d mopped up every last bit of gravy with a paratha. ‘Considering I’ve just devoured the richest curry I’ve ever had without leaving a drop, I think I can handle it.’

  ‘It’s made from pork, beef and pig’s blood.’

  Ignoring the smallest tumble of revolt his belly gave, he reached for his coconut milk and raised it to her.

  ‘Nothing like those magic secret ingredients.’

  She leaned across the table, giving him a delectable view of her cleavage and, to his credit, he managed to keep his gaze on her face.

  ‘You don’t have to pretend with me.’

  His belly griped again but this time it had nothing to do with the thought of eating pig’s blood.

  He was pretending with her, living a fantasy—one he’d craved a long time. But fantasies didn’t mesh with reality and if there was one thing he’d come to respect, it was reality.

  He lived the reality every day—of trusting no one but himself, of staying on top in business, of never losing control.

  Yet here, now, with Tam staring at him with a new sparkle in her eyes and a permanent smile on her face, he wasn’t just in danger of losing control. He was in danger of losing his mind.

  Seeing curiosity creep into her gaze, he clanked his coconut against hers. ‘I couldn’t come to a Goan institution like Souza Lobo’s and not try the sorpotel. So, whatever’s next, bring it on.’

  Her eyes twinkled as she lowered her coconut. ‘Brave words from a guy who got obliterated during Holi.’

  He shrugged, thankful they’d safely navigated back to playful. ‘I just wanted you to think you had the upper hand.’

  ‘Didn’t I?’

  ‘I’ll let you in on a little secret.’

  He crooked his finger at her, laughing when she twisted it. ‘I was lulling you into a false sense of security.’

  The twinkle faded, replaced by a flicker of fear that had him cursing his poor choice of words.

  Of course she’d be insecure with how fast things had developed between them. In effect, he was her rebound guy, the first guy she’d allowed near her after the love of her life, and having her questioning whether it was the right thing to do was a dumb move, however inadvertent.

  Placing a finger under her chin, he tipped it up. ‘I’m kidding.’

  ‘I know.’

  But he’d shattered the light-hearted mood and, considering he had no idea how to deal with emotion, was having a damn hard time getting it back.

  ‘I know.’ He snapped his fingers. ‘Let’s go haggle for some of those handmade Kashmiri scarves you were admiring on the way over here.’

  Her mouth twisted in a wry grin. ‘That’s the second time this trip you’ve tried to distract me with the inducement of shopping.’

  ‘Is it working?’

  ‘I’ll let you know when you’ve bought me a scarf or two.’

  Happy to have the smile back on her face, he held out his hand. ‘Me?’

  ‘Yeah, don’t you tycoons like flashing your cash around?’

  ‘Only to impress.’

  ‘Well, I’m ready to be impressed. Lead the way.’

  As she slipped her hand into his, it hit him how truly lucky he was.

  Despite her joking around, Tam wasn’t remotely interested in his money. With the type of women he usually dated that meant a lot to him, but here, with the pungent aromas of frying spices and fresh seafood in the air, the hot sand squelching between his toes and the relentless sun beating down, it merely added to the unreality of the situation.

  He was in a tropical hot spot with a gorgeous woman, they’d become lovers and grown closer than he’d dared imagine.

  Was any of this real?

  Would it evaporate as quickly as the steam off flavoursome mulligatawny when they returned to Melbourne? Did he want it to?

  He liked Tam—a lot. But did he like her enough to give up the habits of a lifetime and relinquish control of his tightly held emotions?

  ‘Come on, I see a flea market over there with my name written on a few dozen scarves.’

  He groaned, delighting in her wide grin while trying to hide his inner turmoil.

  Tamara leaned back against Ethan, secure in the circle of his arms. These days, there was no place she’d rather be.

  ‘Comfortable?’

  Turning her face up, her breath caught at the beauty of his face, shadows from the fire flickering over his cheekbones, highlighting his strong nose, the curve of his lips.

  He was gorgeous and, for now, he was hers.

  ‘Very.’

  She wriggled back slightly, enjoying the sudden flare of heat in his eyes, the wickedly sexy smile.

  ‘When you first mentioned a full moon party at Arjuna Beach, I envisaged a bunch of hippies drinking and having a full-on rave complete with bubbles. Nothing like this.’

  He cuddled her closer, sweeping a kiss across her lips before resting his chin on her shoulder, content to just hold her as they stared at the bonfire one of the revellers had lit not far from the water’s edge.

  The stubble peppering his jaw brushed her cheek, the tiny prickles strangely comforting. Gone was the slick, smooth, clean-shaven corporate pirate; in his place was his laid-back, easygoing, constantly smiling counterpart.

  And she liked this guy much better.

  How had she ever thought him distant and ruthless and aloof? The Ethan she’d got to know the last two weeks, the Ethan she’d fallen for, was warm and spontaneous and generous. He made her laugh, made her forget every sane reason why she shouldn’t be losing her heart to him.

  But what if it was too late? For, no matter how attentive and carefree he was here, she knew once they returned to Melbourne he’d revert back to t
ype and she’d be left with nothing but memories.

  She’d known it from the start, had held him at bay because of it, but no amount of self-talk could withstand a barrage of Ethan at his best: charming, gregarious and able to make her feel one hundred per cent female.

  That was most seductive of all, for she hadn’t felt this way in a long, long time.

  Not only had Richard sapped her identity, he’d battered her self-esteem and, thanks to Ethan, she’d rediscovered another part of herself she’d thought lost—she was still a desirable woman, capable of instilling passion in a man and, right now, that made her feel like a million dollars.

  ‘You’ve heard pretty much anything goes at these full moon parties, right?’

  ‘Yeah.’ His soft breath caressed her ear, sending a shiver of delight through her. ‘So what do you have in mind?’

  Tilting her face up to see him, she said, ‘Dance with me.’

  ‘Here?’

  His dubious glance flicked to the couples surrounding the fire, some of them entwined, some holding hands, some lying back and staring at the stars, and she laughed at his doubtful expression.

  ‘I love dancing and haven’t done it for ages.’

  His reticence melted away at her wistful tone and he stood, tugging her to her feet in one fluid movement, pulling her close until her breasts were squashed against his chest and her pelvis snuggled in his.

  ‘How’s that?’

  ‘Perfect.’

  And it was, not just the way their bodies fitted but the way he held her, as if she was something precious, something he never wanted to let go.

  While logic said she was kidding herself in thinking that even for a second, her heart was going with the flow, caught up in the magic of the moment with soft sand still warm from the day’s sun under her feet, Ethan’s sandalwood scent enveloping her and his body speaking to her on some subconscious level.

  They didn’t speak, her head resting on his shoulder as they swayed in time to the sultry strains of a sitar, the drugging beat of a tabla. Closing her eyes, everything faded: the other couples, the fire, the music, the waves lapping at the water’s edge.

  She wanted to remember every second of tonight, imprint every incredible moment in her memory, for this was the night.

  The night she admitted she’d fallen in love.

 

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