The Billionaire's Bride of Innocence

by Miranda Lee

  ‘You only have to pick up any of the phones,’ the fellow was saying, having already pointed out the extensions in the living room, bedroom, bathroom and kitchen, ‘and Reception at the resort will answer immediately. Your villa will be serviced whenever and at whatever time you request. We’ve found that honeymooners, especially, prefer this method, rather than Housekeeping just showing up each and every morning. Your kitchen is well-stocked with food and all manner of drink, but we also deliver meals and picnic baskets on request. All food and drink on the island is included in the tariff you’ve already paid. There is never any extra charge for guests staying in this particular villa, even at the à la carte restaurants. Now, here is the key to your own personal beach buggy, which is parked in the carport behind the villa. Not that you’ll need it to go to the beach. As you’ve already seen, it’s less than fifty metres from your front door. You will, however, need the buggy to get back to the main resort, and the restaurants. Let’s see, now, I think that’s all. Do you have any further questions?’ he finished up with a cheesy smile.

  ‘I’m sure you’ve covered everything,’ James returned as he pocketed the key, after which he extracted a fifty-dollar note from his wallet. ‘Thanks,’ he said as he handed the money over.

  ‘Thank you, sir. This is most appreciated.’

  ‘And so is your departure,’ James muttered under his breath as the young man hurried off.

  At last he was alone with Megan, who’d disappeared somewhere, James realised on glancing around, probably into the master bedroom. He immediately strode off in that direction. Yes, there she was, standing in the middle of the room, staring at the bed.

  James’s eyes, however, went to the bed head.

  It was made of cherry-coloured cane, like the rest of the furniture. There were no bedposts, but the cane in the headboard wasn’t all that tightly woven. There were plenty of places to wind a scarf through, or a man’s tie. Not that he’d brought any ties with him.

  ‘So what do you think of the place?’ James asked, realising, suddenly, that Megan hadn’t said a single word since they’d arrived. Not that she’d had much chance, with that chap chattering fifty to the dozen from the moment he picked them up at the heliport.

  Megan scooped in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying with all her might to rediscover the confidence James had imbued in her this morning. But it was no use. The new bolder, sexier Megan was definitely in danger of reverting to being Megan the mouse, this depressing process having started the moment James settled back in his seat on that plane and closed his eyes.

  At first she’d been stunned by his ability to relax when he should have been as cripplingly turned on as she was. Then, once it looked as if he’d actually gone to sleep, she’d just wanted to cry.

  In the end, she’d put her own seat back too and tried to blank her mind. But there had been no peace for her, just the most undermining thoughts. Clearly, she had a long way to go before she became the kind of woman to seriously excite her man-of-the-world husband. Once James had got over his surprise at her new ‘image’, he’d seemed more amused than aroused, a suspicion confirmed when he’d gone to sleep.

  By the time the plane had landed in Cairns and they made the quick transfer to Dream Island, she wished she’d never agreed to come.

  Somehow she found a smile as she turned to face her husband. ‘It must have cost you a small fortune.’

  ‘It surely did. But it’s worth every cent. I especially love the privacy. I think I’ll become a nudist for the next ten days. Care to join me?’

  Megan stared at him in horror. Or was it panic?

  James quickly realised that the sexy new Megan he’d picked up this morning was still a work in progress. Clearly, she wanted to become more sexually adventurous. Wanted to try different things. But such a radical change took a lot of courage, and a degree of confidence which would occasionally fail her, such as now.

  James knew he came across as a highly confident person, but there had been times during his younger years when he hadn’t always been so sure of himself and his abilities. He could still remember what it was like to be afraid of failure—hell, he’d gone right out on a limb when he’d first started Images—so he could empathise with what Megan was feeling and what she was trying to do.

  But he wasn’t about to let her go back into her shell.

  Still, he might have to take things a little slower than he’d planned on the plane, and not expect too much too soon.

  ‘But first things first,’ he went on. ‘Are you hungry? There’s loads of stuff in that kitchen.’

  ‘No, thanks,’ she replied, still looking uncomfortable. ‘I had enough to eat on the plane. But I think I might go and have a shower. It’s a lot hotter up here than I thought it would be at this time of the year.’

  ‘You’re right, it is. That sounds like a good idea. I’ll have one with you.’

  Megan’s eyes flew wide, confirming what James had been thinking; that now the moment was at hand, she was suffering from a crisis in confidence.

  The sudden vulnerability in her face touched him. He’d always found her air of innocence enchanting. But the time for innocence had passed now. She’d shown him today that they could share more than sweet sex, and he wanted that. He wanted it badly.

  James knew he wouldn’t be doing her any favours by letting her revert to her former shy self.

  ‘You’ll like it,’ he said with a warmly encouraging smile as he walked over to her. ‘Trust me.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  TRUST him!

  Megan could not have imagined two more ironic words.

  But it wasn’t trust which was the issue at this moment. It was embarrassment. Megan’s face flamed some more as she pictured herself standing before James, not just nude, but totally denuded.

  James was taken aback by this second blush, which was fiercer than the first. He didn’t try to second-guess her this time, deciding that the time for talking was over. It was time for action!

  Megan welcomed his pulling her into his arms and kissing her, welcomed his taking charge. It was what he was good at, after all. Being the boss. He’d been extremely masterful with her when they’d first met, sweeping her off her feet so quickly she’d had little time to worry or wonder what lay behind his claim at being overcome by her charms. That was what she wished for now. To blindly wallow in his seeming passion for her. That was why she’d come here with him after all. To experience his expert lovemaking once more.

  Megan wasn’t under any illusion that their marriage would really last. How could it when she didn’t want to have another baby?

  She shouldn’t have been feeling guilty over that. He was the only who should be feeling guilty. But James and guilt simply did not co-exist. He was a ruthless, cold-blooded devil!

  No, not totally cold-blooded, she conceded with a groan as his arms tightened around her, bringing her already dangerously heated body in closer contact with his. The evidence of his arousal, jabbing with all its flagrant and flattering urgency into her stomach, banished any guilt, her own desire for him taking over once more. Her arms tightened around his neck, the action pressing her breasts flat against the hard wall of his chest.

  Somehow he swept her up off the floor without lifting his lips from hers, the kiss continuing as he strode from the bedroom into the bathroom. He didn’t stop kissing her till he lowered her back onto her by then slightly unsteady feet and started lifting her top up over her head.

  ‘Much as I love this delicious black bra on you,’ he said as he tossed her black and white top carelessly aside, ‘it has to go.’

  Although he went straight to the hidden front clasp, he took his time undoing it, holding her eyes with his as he did. It seemed ages before the two cups parted company, Megan’s heartbeat racing by the time her breasts were finally bared.

  Only then did his eyes drop to them.

  ‘Even more delicious,’ he said thickly.

  Megan sucked in some much needed air i
n anticipation of his touching her startingly erect nipples. But he didn’t. Instead, his hands went to the waistband of her white jeans.

  Now her pulse went wild. Soon, he would see what she had done. Would he be surprised? Shocked? Pleased? Did he like that kind of thing? Nicole had inferred most men did.

  She hoped James did. She could not bear to see disgust in his eyes when he looked at her.

  ‘James,’ she suddenly blurted out.

  He lifted somewhat frustrated eyes to her face. ‘What?’

  ‘I…I have to tell you something.’

  ‘Nothing bad, I hope.’

  ‘Not really bad…’

  ‘That still sounds ominous.’

  Megan wished she hadn’t said anything now. It was proving more awkward to confess than to just let him see for himself.

  But it was too late now.

  ‘Yesterday,’ she said, swallowing, ‘when I went to the beauty salon, I…um…I had a wax job.’

  His frown showed confusion. ‘And?’

  ‘All over,’ she choked out.

  His eyebrows arched. But then he smiled. It was a very sexy smile. ‘You naughty little minx.’

  James loved it when she blushed this time, loved it that she could be both embarrassed and aroused at the same time.

  Till he’d met Megan he hadn’t had anything to do with virgins. He’d always preferred experienced girls.

  But he was finally able to see why some men had this thing for virgins, especially ones who were ready and willing to be taught the many and varied pleasures of the flesh. Which obviously Megan now was. His head filled with endless erotic possibilities, and positions.

  ‘Just give me half a sec, sweetheart,’ he said, and fell to attacking the buttons on his shirt. ‘I have a strong suspicion I should get myself naked before we go any further with you. God, but you look so sexy like that,’ he went on as he stripped right off. ‘I think I’ll have you go round half-naked the whole time we’re here. Or perhaps just wearing those shoes. My, but they’re sexy shoes.’

  Megan was glad he’d mentioned her shoes, giving her an excuse to look down instead of staring at what he looked like in his underpants, and then out of them. She’d forgotten how overwhelmingly male he was, naked.

  ‘It’s almost a shame for you to have to take those shoes off,’ he went on, his socks whizzing past her eyes as they joined the pile of discarded clothes on the turquoise tiled floor, ‘but you can always put them on later, after we get out of the shower.’

  The image he created startled Megan, sending her eyes jerking back up to his. The idea of walking around naked before him, with nothing on but high heels, was too daunting for words.

  ‘But first things first,’ he said as he reached forward and unsnapped the waistband of her jeans. ‘I don’t know about you but I suddenly feel very hot indeed.’

  His dark eyes glittered as he slid the zip right down to her crotch, exposing the white satin panties she was wearing. When he took possession of the waistband at her hips and started to push down, Megan held her breath.

  But almost immediately, he stopped.

  ‘Methinks you’ll have to kick those shoes off first,’ he said.

  She did, scooping in a deep breath at the same time.

  ‘And now the rest,’ he ordered. ‘You do it. I want to watch.’

  Megan swallowed. But there was no question of not obeying him, any nerves far outweighed by her desires. It was cruel, the way he could make her want him. Cruel and ruthless.

  But there was no point in fighting him. She’d reached the point of no return at some stage during this past week, and nothing short of death would stop her now.

  James wasn’t sure if she would do it…undress in front of him. But yes! She did!

  Her obedience produced a flash of triumph, plus pride in the courage it was taking for a girl of her nature to do something she would consider bold. Brazen, even.

  James’s satisfaction, however, was soon forgotten as the sight before him unfolded. My God, how beautiful she was! Despite her recent weight loss, her body was perfectly proportioned, and deliciously curvy, with ripe, full breasts, a tiny waist and a generous curve of hip anchored by long, shapely legs.

  Perhaps he should not have been so surprised. But he’d never seen her standing up in the nude before, only lying down and usually under sheets.

  ‘You look like a Greek goddess,’ he complimented as his eyes raked over her. ‘No, don’t cover yourself,’ he warned sharply when her hands went to hide her denuded sex. ‘I want to look at you there.’ And touch you there. And tongue you there.

  And she was going to let him. She was going to let him do whatever he wanted to do with her.

  OK, so there was still a measure of shock in her eyes. But along with the shock lay excitement. Her breasts were rising and falling with her quickened heartbeat, her lips falling apart as she struggled to drag more air into her lungs. James felt supremely confident that if he touched her down there she would be wet, very wet.

  Megan wished he would stop looking at her like that and just do something. Anything. It had been agony taking off the rest of her clothes, especially her panties. She’d never felt so naked in her life, or so shockingly turned on.

  ‘Stay right where you are,’ he commanded. ‘Don’t move. Don’t cover yourself.’

  Megan’s hands curled into fists by her sides as she watched him slide back the shower screen and step inside to turn on the taps, taking his time to adjust the temperature and the twin shower heads to his satisfaction till he returned to her.

  ‘Come,’ he said, and took her hand in his.

  He led her into the middle of the stall, where the streams of water met, positioning her so that the shower rained down like a tropical storm over her, front and back, plastering her hair to her head and travelling over her curves in erotic rivulets. Her gasp was one of surprise, for she’d never imagined water could be so erotic. When she closed her eyes and tipped her head back to clear her hair from her face, the hot spray beat even harder on her uplifted breasts, making her already erect nipples tighten further.

  When the stream of water in her face suddenly stopped, her eyes flew open to find that James had moved in front of her and the water was now beating on his back.

  James was about to reach out and pull Megan to him when he saw the look in his wife’s eyes.

  Never had he seen such excitement in a woman’s face, or such hunger.

  He yanked her back under the water, spinning her around so that he could imprison her against him with one arm whilst he readied her body for him with his free hand.

  Not that she needed readying, James was soon to discover. She wasn’t just wet for him, she was on fire, squirming against his hand, pushing her buttocks back up against him in the most provocative fashion. There was little question of any protracted foreplay. He had to get himself inside her, and quickly!

  Whirling her back round to face him, he wound her arms up around his neck then lifted her right knee high up towards his left hip. Holding it there, he took himself in his other hand and angled himself up between her legs.

  ‘Yes,’ he bit out at the feel of her flesh swallowing his.

  Her raw moan echoed his own pleasure. Pleasure and passion. It wasn’t enough to just be inside her. The desire to move was both violent and urgent. James half carried her over to the tiled wall, which provided some support for her back so that he could pound up into her. There was no finesse in his lovemaking, just a desperate need for release from the frustration of the last few months. Not just physical frustration, but also emotional. He wanted to experience Megan’s orgasm almost as much as his own. Only then would he know for sure that he had his wife back again and that they had a future together. For a while there, he’d been afraid that another of his marriages was doomed to failure.

  But not any more. Megan obviously still loved him and wanted him. More than ever, he realised with a hot surge of triumph when he felt her splinter apart in his arms simu
ltaneously with his own climax. Bracing his hands against the tiled walls, he shut his eyes tight and wallowed at length in the intensity of her contractions. They went on and on, milking him dry in the most satisfying way.

  Finally they stopped, her arms dropping away from his neck. With a thoroughly sated sigh he withdrew and stepped back from her. Only then did he open his eyes, shocked to find that Megan’s were flooded with tears. Alarm and concern shot through him like twin daggers.

  ‘Megan! Darling! What’s wrong?’

  She couldn’t seem to answer him. She just shook her head from side to side, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  He cupped her shoulders gently and searched her bleak-looking face. ‘Did I hurt you?’

  Again, she shook her head.

  ‘You’re tired,’ he said, and cuddled her to him. ‘Travelling is always tiring.’ Either that or she was experiencing some kind of post-climactic downer. Some women could get very emotional after having an orgasm, especially intense ones like Megan had just experienced. Not that she’d ever cried after sex before. But people did change. Megan had changed.

  James could not discount that her tears might still have something to do with the baby they’d lost. But he really didn’t want to go there. He’d never been a great believer in rehashing the past. What good did it do to go over and over traumatic events? It could only revive awful memories and the emotions associated with them. Losing the baby had hurt him, too. But in the end you had to make a choice. Either to wallow in your grief, or to move on.

  When life proved difficult—even distressing—James had always chosen to move on. It had pleased him earlier this week that Megan had finally made that choice as well. She’d pleased him too today with her changed attitude towards sex. She was becoming a grown-up woman at last, rather than a naïve young girl.

  ‘Come back under the warm water,’ he said when she started to shiver. ‘There. That’s better, isn’t it? Rest your back against me and I’ll get you all nice and clean.’