by Penny Jordan
Which meant...
What? It was a Saturday; her bank would be closed. Attempting to arrange a temporary bank loan here, with her limited French? Not a good idea. Ringing Jules, explaining what had happened and asking her for a temporary loan? Better—if Jules was even there. But Jules would probably tell Lucy, and then Lucy would insist on sending her money from the business. Asking some one else if they could help her out? Like who? One of their contractors? Or... She looked uncertainly at Ricardo as she followed him to the car.
There was nothing she hated more than being beholden to someone, accepting a benefit she could neither repay nor return. It went against everything she believed in to ask anyone to even lend her money—and were the money for her own personal spending she would have starved rather than consider it. But it wasn't. It would just be temporary. And she had a duty to the business that surely overrode her own pride?
As they reached the car Ricardo looked at Carly. It was obvious to him that she was expecting him to do the gentlemanly thing and offer to replace her lost clothing. Poor girl—how on earth could she be expected to manage with just the contents of her hand luggage and the clothes she stood up in? She couldn't—and, since effectively she was here at least in part for his benefit, naturally he, as a very wealthy man should offer to pro vide her with a suitable new wardrobe.
And when he didn't respond as she obviously wanted him to, what, he mused, would be her next move?
Did St Tropez have second-hand clothes shops? Charity shops? Carly wondered worriedly as she thanked Ricardo when he politely held open the passenger door of the car for her. Surely it must. French women were known to be shrewd in such matters.
'Something wrong?' Ricardo asked her smoothly.
She was very tempted to admit just how much was wrong—although she doubted he would share her dismay at the thought of a £4,000 bill, she thought ruefully. She opted for discretion instead, and told him lightly, 'I didn't realize you'd be driving yourself. I was expecting a chauffeur-driven car.'
Of course she was. Women like her did.
'Even billionaires sometimes like to economize,' he told her dryly, before adding, more truthfully, 'I like driving, and I grew up in Naples. If you can drive there and live, you can drive anywhere.'
The car was plain and solidly built, but—blissfully— the air-conditioning was wonderfully effective.
They were stationary in a queue of traffic, and at the side of the road a young man was offering a stunningly pretty girl a peach. As Carly looked on, the girl, oblivious to everything and everyone other than the young man, leaned forward and cupped her hand round his. Then, without taking her gaze from his, she took a bite out of the ripe fruit whilst its juice ran from it onto their interlocked hands.
The small tableau was so intensely sensual and intimate that Carly immediately looked away—and found she was looking right into Ricardo's eyes.
Could he see in hers that she had watched the young couple, wondering how it would feel if he had been the one offering the peach to her? If its juice had run on her bare skin, would he have bent his head to savor its path with his tongue? Would he have... ?
She started to tremble violently, small beads of sweat breaking out on her skin, and her body was suddenly thrown forward against her seatbelt as Ricardo de pressed the accelerator savagely, causing the car to shoot forward.
What the hell was the matter with him? Ricardo be rated himself silently. No way was he dumb enough to fall for something so obvious as the tired old come-on Carly had just tried out on him. Look at my lips, watch my tongue, imagine...
It was those damned eyes of hers that did it! How the hell did she manage to get them to turn so smoky and lustrous with desire on demand like that?
Hell—insanely, for a second, she'd almost had him persuaded that the sight of those two kids with their peach had made her ache for him as if he was the only man on earth. Not that his body needed much persuading. It was all too eager to believe she wanted him.
CHAPTER FOUR
'Where exactly are we staying?' Carly asked Ricardo, hoping that it would be within easy walking distance of the town and the harbor. She would need easy access to both from early tomorrow morning, so that she could liaise properly with their contractors and get to the bank, as she had promised her parents, plus somehow find time to replenish her wardrobe.
'Villa Mimosa,' Ricardo answered her. 'It's outside St Tropez itself, up in the hills overlooking the sea. I'm not a particular fan of over-hyped, supposedly in places. Invariably, every minor celebrity that TV and magazines have ever created flock to them for maximum publicity exposure, destroying whatever charm the place may once have had. I like my privacy, and personally I prefer quality to quantity every time.'
'Oh, yes. Me too,' Carly agreed immediately. 'But I do need to be able to get into St Tropez quickly and easily.'
'Ah, you're thinking about replacing your missing clothes,' Ricardo said affably.
Carly couldn't help laughing. 'That, yes—but I was thinking more of liaising with our contractors.'
'Mmm. I thought the purpose of this trip was for you to liaise with me,' Ricardo told her softly.
Damn and double damn. He cursed himself mentally as he saw Carly absorbing the subtle flirtatiousness of his remark. Why the hell had he done that? Why hadn't he waited and let her come on to him? Now she knew he was receptive to her!
Ricardo had just flirted with her! A heady mixture of pleasure and excitement danced along her veins. Careful, she warned herself. Remember you don't want to get into a situation you can't afford. On the other hand, there was such a thing as being too cautious. After all, her common sense told her that a man like Ricardo would not be interested in anything more than the very briefest kind of relationship—a 'no commitment of any kind' type of relationship. The perfect kind of relation ship, surely, for a woman like her, who did not want to fall in love but who secretly—even if this was the first time she had admitted it to herself—wondered what it would be like to have sex with a man all her instincts told her would be a once-in-a-lifetime lover. Why shouldn't she live a little recklessly for once?
'Well, I certainly want to do my best to please you.'
Carly could scarcely believe such words had come from her own lips. Words that, no matter how demurely she had spoken them, could surely only convey to Ricardo a very provocative message.
Ricardo turned his head to look at her. That was more like it!
The look in those dark eyes was quite unmistakable, Carly recognized, as her heart missed a beat and sweet, hot, sensual arousal poured through her body like warm honey.
'We're here.'
'What? Oh. Yes.'
She had actually blushed, Ricardo marveled as he stopped the car. And her nipples were standing out beneath the fabric of her tee shirt in flagrant sexual arousal.
Ridiculously, suddenly he was as hot for her as though he were a mere youth and this was his first time.
She might as well ask for his help and get it out of the way now, Carly decided. Because once they got inside...
Once they got inside what? Once they got inside she hoped he would take her to bed?
Her thoughts were leaving her torn between shock and delight. And urgency! Suddenly she wanted very much to get the matter of her need for a short-term loan and her discomfort about mentioning it to him out of the way.
So that she could be free to encourage him to flirt with her and ultimately—maybe—take her to bed with out it hanging over her?
The unfamiliar recklessness of her own thoughts took some getting used to. But she wasn't tempted to abandon them, was she?
So first things first, and then...
She cleared her throat and took a deep breath.
'Ricardo... I...er...'
The husky little catch in her voice was very effective, Ricardo thought, as he waited for her to continue.
'I feel very uncomfortable about this, but...'
'Yes?' he encouraged when she pre
tended to falter. After all, he reasoned cynically, the sooner he could get this farce over with, the sooner he could satisfy the itch to possess her that had now become an almighty, savage, unignorable ache.
Carly took heart from the kindness in Ricardo's patient encouragement.
'I need to replace some of the things that were in my suitcase. I don't want to worry Lucy—it's my job to deal with the accounts, after all—and... And I know this is... ' Her face had started to burn. 'I was wondering if I could ask you to lend me some money—just temporarily, of course.'
Why had she ever thought this was a good idea? Carly wondered, feeling acutely embarrassed. Just listening to herself as she stumbled over her words made her go cold with horror at what she was doing. And if she found her request unacceptable, then what on earth must Ricardo be thinking?
'I feel dreadful about this,' she admitted honestly, 'but I can't think of what else I can do.'
Really? Didn't she possess a bank account of her own? A credit card? A debit card? The ability to walk into a bank?
'It would just be a loan. I would pay you back, of course... '
Indeed she would—and with interest.
Several different potential responses presented them selves to him, but in the end he decided that, since Carly was so patently thick-skinned, he might as well go for the oldest and least believable of all of them.
So he smiled at her, and then he took hold of her hand and patted it. And then he told her smoothly, 'I shall be delighted to help you. How much do you think you will need?'
She was gazing at him starry-eyed, her face slightly flushed, her lips slightly parted, as though she could hardly believe her good fortune.
Such a heroic effort deserved a generous reward, Ricardo decided cynically.
'Wait! I've had a better idea.' But she, of course, had no doubt already had the same idea before him. 'Why don't we go into St Tropez together tomorrow and you can choose whatever you think you may need?'
For some reason she didn't look as delighted as Ricardo had expected.
Ricardo had made her a wonderful offer, but she was not sure it was one she felt comfortable with, Carly reflected, as she thanked him.
'That's very generous of you.'
'I'm delighted to be able to help,' Ricardo assured her, before adding, 'Come on, let's go inside.'
Carly was used to staying in beautiful and magnificent properties, but the Villa Mimosa was truly breathtaking. Its setting alone—tucked into a hillside, overlooking the Mediterranean—provided a view that must surely al ways catch at the heart.
From the balcony of her bedroom she could look out over immaculate gardens and across a miraculous infinity pool to the horizon, and although it was a couple of hours now since they had arrived at the villa she still kept going to the balcony and gazing at the view.
The middle-aged Frenchwoman who had welcomed them had explained that she was the maid but that she did not live in. Cathy must have looked rather surprised at that, she realized, because after she had left them Ricardo had explained to her that he preferred to have his own personal staff on hand or do without.
'My own people know how I like things done, and they know too that I like my privacy. It's mid-afternoon now, and I have some business matters to attend to,' he had told her, 'so why don't we agree to meet up on the terrace at, say, six? My choice would be for us to eat in,' he had added suavely. 'I can arrange to have some thing delivered.'
Carly had felt her heart miss a couple of beats at the potential implications of dining alone with him.
'That sounds perfect,' she had answered, and then worried when she had seen the gleam in his eyes that she had sounded naively over-enthusiastic.
Six o'clock, he had said. And it was five now. She might not have anything to change in to, but she certainly intended to shower and tidy herself up.
Half an hour later, showered and still wearing the thick toweling robe she had found hanging up in the bath room, she was just brushing her hair when she heard a soft tap on her bedroom door. It opened and Ricardo walked in, carrying two well filled champagne glasses.
'I've mixed you a Bellini. I hope you like them.'
'Oh, yes. Yes, I do,' she agreed.
Unlike her, he was fully dressed, in dark linen trousers and a white linen shirt, his bare brown feet thrust into soft plain leather sandals.
He came over to where she was sitting and put one glass down on the glass-topped dressing table, then held the other out to her.
'Try it first,' he urged her.
Sipping from a glass whilst he held it surely shouldn't be such a sensually intimate experience, should it? And why couldn't she stop looking at the long brown fingers curled round the stem of the glass? She tried to focus on something else, but discovered that the only other thing to focus on was his body, and that the place where the line of his trousers was broken by a telltale bulge was exactly on her eye line. And, what was worse, she couldn't seem to stop herself from gazing appreciatively at it.
'It's lovely,' she assured him hurriedly, taking a sip and then turning away. 'I hadn't realized that was the time. I'd better hurry up and get dressed.'
He gave a small shrug.
'You might as well stay as you are. I hope you like lobster by the way.'
'I love it,' she told him truthfully.
'And I also hope that the gourmet meals-on-wheels outfit who brought the food are as good they are sup posed to be. I thought we'd eat outside on the terrace.'
He was obviously expecting her to go with him, Carly realized. A bathrobe wouldn't normally have been her first choice of dinner outfit, but on this occasion it seemed she had no alternative.
'I really am grateful to you for being so kind about the money,' she told him.
'Good. Maybe later you might find a way of showing me how much, Mmm?'
Ricardo watched cynically as somehow or other she managed to summon a look of shocked bemusement quickly followed by hot excitement into the smoky darkness of her eyes. But his cynicism wasn't stopping him from wanting her, was it? he reminded himself. In fact he had spent the last three hours thinking about very little other than satisfying that want. Which was why, in the end, he had given in to it and gone to her room.
Was Ricardo saying what she thought he was saying? Carly wondered dizzily. Or was she letting her own erotic imagination run away with her?
At least Lucy and Jules would be pleased to learn she was about to abandon her virgin status. Abandon...it was such an emotive word, such a sensual word. And, recklessly, she was already eager to abandon herself to the physical pleasure of Ricardo's possession.
'Or would you prefer to make a start now?'
Carly's eyes widened as he came to within a few inches of her and bent his head toward hers, his hand resting lightly on the side of her face.
She had never been kissed like this before. There was no physical contact other than that of their lips and his fingers lightly caressing her face. His mouth moved more fiercely on hers and Carly responded instinctively, moving closer to him, leaning into him as his tongue drove deeper into the soft recesses of her mouth to take possession of it.
She started to raise her arms, wanting to hold him, but to her confusion he stopped her, gripping her shoulders and releasing her mouth to step back from her.
Whilst she looked up at him in confusion he untied the belt of her robe and then pushed it off her shoulders in one swift easy movement that left her totally naked in front of him. Her only covering was the hot wave of color that beat up under her skin. His gaze dropped to her body with the swift descent of an eagle to its prey. It stalked slowly over creamy slender shoulders, down to ripely rounded breasts, softly heavy with sensual promise, silky pale skin contrasting with the darker aureoles from which her rose nipples thrust so eagerly.
Her ribcage curved into a narrow waist, below which her hips flared out again, and her legs were, as he had already known they would be, unbelievably long and perfectly shaped. A soft cap o
f downy dark curls formed a neat little triangle just above the delicately shaped outer lips of her sex, curled protectively over it.
A dozen—no, a hundred different sensations and de sires struck him, which in the end were only one need, one desire, and that the most ancient and powerful of all male needs and desires.
His gaze was fixed on her as though her body was a visual magnet from which he could not look away.
He wanted her. He wanted her right here and right now. He wanted her as he had never wanted any woman before. His own flesh was so immediately and intensely aroused that it was almost painful.
He wanted to take her quickly, fiercely, hotly plunging his flesh within hers and filling her, as though in taking her he would somehow drive out his own need for her.
And yet at the same time he wanted to savor the experience of having her, to relish it and wait for it.
Carly felt like a...a houri in front of a sultan—aware of her own nakedness before him and in some weird way actually physically excited by the fact that he was seeing her like that. Because she knew that he desired her, and his desire for her gave her power over him? The telltale bulge had now become a definite and openly defined ridge of flesh she badly wanted to reach out to and caress. Carly touched her tongue-tip to her lips.
No man had looked at her in the way Ricardo just had. With such a blazing heat of desire that she could have sworn she'd actually felt its burn against her skin.
But then no man had ever seen her like this—stripped bare, vulnerable, the whole of herself revealed.
She could feel a small, excited pulse beating inside her body.
Ricardo was picking up her Bellini and handing it to her. Uncertainly she took it from him. 'You have a beautiful body,' he told her emotionlessly. 'I'm tempted to tell you to stay like this, so that I can continue to have the pleasure of looking at it, but I'm not sure my self-control could go the distance.'
He bent down to pick up her robe and handed it to her.
When she learned forward to take it from him, he lowered his head and took one taut nipple into his mouth. Could those fierce pangs she felt deep inside her body really be caused by the fierce tugging of his mouth on her nipple? She heard herself moan and was afraid she might collapse. Her legs felt so weak. And yet when his mouth was no longer there she ached for its return, she realized, as he pulled her robe back on for her as unceremoniously and as swiftly as he had removed it.