by Zara Chase
* * * *
The bed was a lot more comfortable than it had looked, but Bay couldn’t sleep. He kept the window wide open and a gentle breeze wafted the scent of honeysuckle and rambling roses into the musty room. Bay wasn’t used to the absolute quiet of a remote country farm. He found it soothing and unsettling at the same time. It also made him wonder what Athena did for recreation. Buried away here, any sort of a social life was going to be a challenge.
No possessive boyfriend had come running to her aid following the break-in, and as far as he knew, she hadn’t phoned anyone. That didn’t mean that she didn’t have a significant other. It was unlikely that someone as attractive as her would be left alone for long. So why hadn’t she called him? Unless she’d given someone the elbow and this was his revenge. A man scorned, and all that. It seemed extreme, but Bay had heard of stranger things happening.
Then there was George, the protective farmhand, to consider. He, at least, seemed to care about her. But Bay got the impression that she merely looked upon him as a friend. He might feel peeved enough to trash the house, but would he brutally attack his employer? If his intention was to impress Athena, it was hardly the right way to go about it. Bay had been here for a few hours and already knew how close she was to her grandfather. George must be well aware of their tight relationship, seeing them together every day. Still, he’d check him out, as well as the other guy who worked here. He couldn’t imagine either of them influencing the bank’s lending policy, but for want of any better leads, he might as well start there.
And then the mother… What was that? Someone was downstairs. Bay sat up and listened. Yep, there was definitely the sound of broken crockery being moved about. Why the hell hadn’t that useless dog barked? He slipped out of bed, pulled a pair of boxers over his naked body and slipped quietly down the stairs, hoping Athena hadn’t heard the noise and gone down to take a look herself.
The door to the dining room was open and a light spilled out. Bay expelled a frustrated breath, already guessing what he was going to find. It would certainly explain why the dog hadn’t barked. He poked his head round the door and, sure enough, Athena sat in the middle of the chaos, quietly sobbing. She wore a T-shirt that had ridden up her slim thighs, leaving little to the imagination. The dog was there, too, resting his head against her knee in a gesture of doggy solidarity.
Bay didn’t know whether to carry her back to bed—his bed—or creep away again and give her some space. It was beyond him to leave her alone. Her despondency cut him to the quick, and the desire that he’d been fighting all day to fuck her senseless was replaced with an even greater need to make her feel better about herself. Bay was mildly surprised by the change in his priorities. Before he could decide what to do about them, she glanced up and saw him there.
“Sorry if I disturbed you,” she muttered through her tears.
“What are you doing up?” he asked at the same time.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Me neither.” He held out a hand and offered her a gentle smile. “Come on, this is no time to do the housework.”
He noticed a roll of kitchen paper beside her. She tore off a strip and blew her nose. Then she looked up at him again, as though seeing him for the first time, and blinked. Only then did he realize that he was standing there in his underwear. She didn’t appear to mind. In fact, she got up, took his hand and meekly allowed him to lead her from the room.
He closed the door on the devastation, making a mental note to sort it out for her when he could. This room obviously held memories, and he’d do what he could to salvage as many of her family’s possessions as possible. When he got his hands on the cowardly bastard who’d done this to her, he’d break the jerk’s neck with his bare hands. The violence of his thoughts surprised him, but he didn’t stop to analyze the reasons why he felt so strongly.
“You sure you haven’t got anything stronger than tea in this house?” he asked. “We could sure do with something to help us sleep.”
“Was the bed that uncomfortable?” she asked, with a glimmer of her feisty personality shining through the tears.
“It’s too damned quiet,” he said, unconvincing even to his own ears.
“You townies are too soft.” She rummaged at the back of the pantry and let out a triumphant shout. “Emergency supplies,” she said, triumphantly brandishing a half bottle of brandy.
“Just what Uncle Bay ordered.”
He took the bottle from her, found a couple of glasses and poured them each a healthy tot. She sat at the kitchen table and watched him, an unreadable expression gracing her features.
“Thanks,” she said. “I should have thought of this myself.”
He handed her glass to her and took the seat opposite. It was probably better to keep the table as a barrier between them. “Cheers,” he said, clinking his glass against hers.
They each sipped their drinks warily, watching one another over the rims of the glasses. Her violet eyes, still rimmed with tears, were now wary with…with what? Anticipation, curiosity? They were both virtually naked, presumably accounting for the air of expectation that hovered between them. The room was cool and he could see her nipples, ripe and firm, pushing against the fabric of her T-shirt. Hell, he wanted her! He also knew better than to make a move. She was an emotional wreck and he didn’t intend to take advantage of her vulnerability.
“You, Dex, and Marty seem pretty tight.” The sound of her voice broke the tense silence, temporarily diverting his mind away from thoughts of fucking her. “How come you’re in partnership? Did you grow up together or something like that?”
“No, we’re from different states and only met one another about ten years ago. I was managing a country club back in Boston and Marty was employed as the golf professional.”
Her eyes widened. “He’s a professional golfer.”
“He’s a golf teacher.” Bay smiled. “He’d be the first to tell you there’s a big difference. Between you and me, he’s a damned good golfer and could probably have made it as a pro, but he didn’t want to go down that route.”
“Why not?”
His gaze was fixated on her lush mouth and the way her lips parted, shiny and moist, whenever she spoke. If ever a mouth was designed to be kissed, it was hers. It was a criminal waste.
“Sorry.” He shook his head to dispel the forbidden thought. “What did you say?”
“I asked why Marty didn’t want to go on the professional golf circuit.”
“You’ll have to ask him that.”
She flapped a hand, clearly peeved by his prevarication. “I was just trying to make conversation.”
“I know.” He covered one of her hands with his own and as quickly removed it again. He absolutely couldn’t risk touching her in his current state of heightened awareness, to say nothing of his raging hard-on. “I wasn’t holding out on you. It’s just not my story to tell.”
“What about Dex then? How did you meet him?”
“Same way. He managed the leisure facilities, including the massage rooms, so you’ll have something in common to talk about.”
She took another sip of her drink, propped one elbow on the table, canted her head, and rested it in her splayed hand. “So the three of you were employed by someone else. How come you turned into entrepreneurs in your own right?”
He shrugged. “The club started to slide because it wasn’t keeping up with the competition. We could see that, but the owners wouldn’t listen. None of us are losers and we didn’t want to be associated with a failing proposition. So, we pooled our resources, found a property that could be developed into the sort of thing we wanted to manage, and persuaded a bank to give us a start-up loan.”
Athena grunted. “Just like that.”
“I make it sound easier than it actually was, but this was before the credit crunch, and banks were still lending on just about anything.”
“And now you’re hoping to do the same thing on this side of the pond?”
; Her glass was empty. Bay picked up the bottle to offer her a refill and then changed his mind. She’d drunk that first one like it was soda. She didn’t need a hangover to add to her worries.
“Yes please,” she said, holding out her glass.
“You sure?”
“I’m not sure about anything anymore.” She shrugged, causing her taut nipples to ride up against the fabric of her T-shirt. Bay suppressed a groan. “I guess it helps to dull the pain and stops me thinking. That’s my problem, you see, I think too much about absolutely everything.”
Bay poured half the amount he’d given her before. “There you go,” he said.
“Don’t be so stingy.” She continued to hold her glass out. “It’s not yours to ration.”
He smiled and added a little more. “Go easy with that stuff. You’ll regret it in the morning.”
Bay immediately wished the words back. It made it sound as though he was propositioning her.
“What will I regret?” she asked, eyeing him flirtatiously over the rim of her glass.
“You’re upset,” he said, “and you didn’t eat much. The liquor will go straight to your head.”
“Oh, that.” She took a large gulp, half emptying her glass. “It was your idea, remember?”
“Not one of my better ones,” he admitted, still sipping his first drink. “You ready to go back to bed now? It’s kinda late.”
“No, but don’t let me stop you.”
“I couldn’t sleep much either.”
She drained her glass again and then merely held his gaze. He would have to be blind not to interpret her expression as the invitation that it was. But was it the booze talking, or was it what she’d really wanted all along and the alcohol had given her the courage to go after it? He stared right back at her, caressing her with his eyes. Desire tightened his gut, intensifying as they continued to drown in one another’s eyes. Never had he wanted a woman more.
But he couldn’t have her. It was as simple as that.
“Not a good idea,” he said softly.
“It’s a lousy idea,” she said, standing up.
He stood as well, powerless to help himself, and took her hand in his. “Like I said, you’ll regret it in the morning,”
“Perhaps we’ll help each other to sleep,” she said breathlessly.
Bay barked a laugh. “That I very much doubt.”
“What are you so afraid of?”
“Hurting you,” he said with transparent honesty.
“You’ll only do that if you turn me down.”
That decided him. He could see uncertainty in her eyes, presumably because she thought he didn’t want her. He couldn’t allow that supposition to continue and so headed for the stairs. They weren’t wide enough for them to walk up side by side so he scooped her into his arms and carried her straight up to his room. Better his than hers, that way she wouldn’t feel hers had been tarnished if she did regret it in the morning.
He deposited her gently on his bed, leaned over her and kissed her almost chastely, just as he’d been longing to do since he first set eyes on her. Not here at the farm but on the television, when she’d been ranting against him and the guys, branding them as the baddies.
“You sure about this?” he asked.
“Don’t you dare wimp out on me now!”
Bay chuckled. “Just checking, but if we’re gonna do it, there’s one thing you ought to know first.”
“You’re married?”
“Hell no, but I am a sexual Dominant.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you have to do whatever I tell you to do.” He claimed her lips, a little more forcefully this time. They tasted of brandy and reckless desire. “You up for that?”
“You get to boss me about and I have no say in the matter?”
“That’s about the size of it. But if I do anything to you that you don’t like, say the word and I’ll stop at once.” He flicked at a solid nipple through her T-shirt. “But I don’t intend to do anything you dislike.”
She reached up to wind her arms around his neck and sank her fingers into his hair. Passion had darkened her eyes by several shades. “That’s probably just as well,” she said, “because I haven’t done this for a while. I’ll probably need an expert to remind what goes where.”
Bay threw back his head and roared with laughter. “I’ve never heard it described quite like that before.”
“You’ll get used to my weird way.” She smiled up at him. “So what are we waiting for?” she asked.
Chapter Seven
“What must I do first?” she asked.
Bay placed a finger against her lips. Athena quelled the playful desire to nip at it. Her head spun, a combination of too much brandy and the excitement that ripped through her when he caressed her face with the rich intensity of his gaze.
Thank God she’d remembered the brandy was there, otherwise this wouldn’t be happening. When Bay demonstrated no particular interest in her, the alcohol had given her the courage to go after what she needed from him. He’d responded like any red-blooded male would but was right to suggest that she’d probably regret it in the morning. Only because she’d be embarrassed for instigating proceedings, though. She was old-fashioned about that sort of thing and still thought the man ought to make the running.
Having standards was all very well, but if ever a situation cried out for an exception to be made, this was it. She was sitting here wearing next to nothing. Her pussy dripped like a leaky tap, her nipples had solidified into painful peaks, and she was unable to think about anything except getting laid. Someone had to help her out, and he just happened to be available. She put her out-of-character behaviour down to the aftereffects of shock. It made people do odd things.
Bay probably wasn’t too impressed with what he saw, given that he had a physique that would put a Greek god to shame and could presumably take his pick from the crème de la crème of the female population. Why would he bother with her for any reason other than she happened to be convenient and hadn’t left him with a whole lot of choice?
Athena quelled such humiliating thoughts and gave herself over to enjoying herself, before he could change his mind.
“The first thing you must learn is to speak only when spoken to.” He reached across her and switched on a small bedside light. “I want to be able to gauge your reactions,” he explained.
He bent his head, dirty-blond hair falling across his face as he kissed her with bold, seductive sweeps of his tongue. Presumably it was permissible to kiss him back. As soon as her lips firmed against his, he nudged against them with his tongue until they parted. Bay plundered her mouth with ruthless efficiency, kissing her like it was an Olympic sport and he was favourite for the gold medal. Athena lifted her torso from the bed, desperate to feel his body pressing against hers. Perhaps that would deflect his attention to her aching nipples.
No such luck. The moment she moved, he broke the kiss and gave the side of her thigh a sharp tap.
“Naughty!”
She stared up at him in dazed confusion. “What did I do?”
“My rules, remember.”
Athena fell back against the pillows, her heart hammering against her rib cage. His eyes glistened as he looked down at her, still wearing her not-especially-sexy T-shirt. Presumably he would remove it but didn’t seem to be in any hurry to do so. She was encouraged to see the impressive bulge tenting his boxers, wondering when she’d get to see what was beneath them. As though reading her mind, he levered himself from the bed, stripped them off, and tossed them aside. He watched her watching him as her eyes widened and she gasped her appreciation.
“Like what you see?” he asked.
Presumably she was permitted to answer him. “You’re…er, enormous.”
He chuckled. “I’ve been walking about like this half the damned day.”
“Why?”
“Because,” he said softly, “being near you drives me crazy.”
She fe
lt embarrassed and confused. “You don’t have to say things like that.”
“Why not? It’s the truth.”
He sat back down, his erection stranding proud from his wiry pubic hair. She couldn’t seem to drag her eyes away from it and was suddenly afraid that she wouldn’t be able to accommodate him. What a waste that would be. She moistened her lips and reached out to touch him. This time he slapped her thigh a little harder.
“Sorry,” she said meekly.
“Just so that you know,” he said in a soft, challenging tone, “if you speak unless spoken to again, I shall have to gag you. If you try to use your hands again, I’ll tie them to the bedhead.” He bent to brush his lips across hers. “Don’t say you haven’t been warned.” A large hand closed over one of her tits through the fabric of her T-shirt, pinching hard at the nipple. “My, my, you are in the mood, aren’t you?”
Athena wasn’t sure if that was a question or a statement of fact, so she didn’t risk speaking. Besides, her body appeared to be answering all his questions without any help from her. Abruptly he lifted the hem of her shirt. She raised her shoulders so that he could ease it over her head and throw it on the floor. Then he simply looked at her nakedness for an eternity with what appeared to be an expression of deep appreciation. Athena blinked, convinced she must have misinterpreted his reaction. She was anything other than perfect.
“I knew you were a natural redhead,” he said, flicking a finger across pubic hair overdue for shaving. “You’re absolutely perfect.”
Athena gasped, only just remembering not to speak. She wanted to tell him that her tits were too big, her stomach too round, and she didn’t think a whole lot of her butt either. Enforced silence, she was rapidly discovering, had a lot going for it. Bay continued to hold her gaze, lazily circling one areola with a featherlight touch that sent her into sensory overload. She squirmed beneath his touch and opened her legs, desperate for him to touch her there. He merely shook an admonishing finger at her and continued to torture her with ruthless disregard for her needs.