by Penny Jordan
‘Umm. He was a horror wasn’t he?’ Mary agreed, wrinkling her nose. ‘I seem to remember at one time he suggested to Daddy that you and I marry, Scott?’
She said it so teasingly that Philippa knew that Mary had no idea that that marriage was the reason that she and Scott had parted, but she was conscious of Scott’s eyes on her heated cheeks and of the warm pressure of his hand on hers. Weak tears stung her eyes. If only.… Surely the saddest words in the English language? How often had she told herself there was no going back; that she and Scott weren’t the people they had been, and yet for a moment, with the comfort of his hand on hers she had almost believed it was possible to go back, that.… What on earth was she thinking? She knew they could not go back. Shaking off her unhappy mood, Philippa tried to concentrate on the dinner-table conversation, but she was not sorry when the evening came to a close and they were able to leave.
Scott did not talk on the return journey, and it was only when they were both inside the large panelled hall that she saw the tired way he rubbed the muscles at the back of his head.
‘Tension,’ he told her briefly, as she followed the movement. ‘I’ve been worried about the company’s lack of orders, but the Qu’har contract is a good one and it will make all the difference. Fancy a nightcap?’
She shook her head. She had no wish to remain with Scott in the intimacy of the library, although it wasn’t until she had reached her own room that she stopped to question her fear. He had made it more than clear since their marriage that what had happened between them had been an aberration, springing perhaps, she was inclined to think, from his fierce need to assuage the pain she had once caused him. Now that he knew the truth; that Simon was his child and why she had left him, that need had gone, and with it the fierce desire she had sensed in him the last time they made love.
She had undressed and was just brushing her hair when the communicating door opened. She saw Scott’s reflection in her mirror, her eyes widening as she took in the ruffled hair and open shirt. He had discarded his jacket, and looked very dangerous standing in the doorway, propped up against the frame.
‘Scott?’
‘Don’t worry, I haven’t come to claim my husbandly privileges,’ he said sardonically. ‘It’s this damned tension. Unless I get rid of it, I’m going to wake up with cramped muscles tomorrow.’ He saw her bewilderment and said dryly. ‘I was hoping I might be able to persuade you to massage the back of my neck for me. I can’t reach it.…’
She wanted to refuse. Her mouth had gone dry with apprehension, and as though he read her mind Scott said cynically, ‘I’m not asking you to make love to me, Philippa, so you needn’t look at me like that.’
‘I… I.…’ Her eyes followed his progress to her bed, where he pulled off his shirt, dropping it on the floor, and then lying face downwards on it, obviously taking her co-operation for granted. She wanted to refuse, but if she did what excuse could she give him? That she was frightened to touch him because she loved him? His request was a perfectly reasonable one, in his eyes at least.
‘Turn off the light will you,’ he asked as he heard her approach, ‘it hurts my eyes.’
She snapped it off, leaving the room bathed only in the glow from the lamp in Scott’s room and sat down beside him, tentatively touching the; back of his neck. The muscles were rigid beneath her fingers, his skin dry. The body cream she used on her skin was on the bedside table and she opened it, smoothing some on to his nape, suppressing a slight smile as its scent was released, wondering how Scott would feel about wearing her perfume, but it did the trick, softening the tense skin so that she was able to stroke the bunched muscles with her fingertips gradually becoming less aware of his maleness and more concerned with her task. Slowly she felt the tension seep out, and her hands were aching when she bent forward and asked, softly, ‘Any better?’
Scott’s head rested on his forearms; and he turned it towards her, his eyes dark and unfathomable in the half light. ‘Mmm. Philippa, why do you hate touching me so much?’
His question caught her off guard and she bent to put the top back on her body lotion, the fair curtain of her hair hiding her expression from him. ‘I.…’
‘Is it because you think you might respond to me the way you did the night before you.…’
‘No.’ The denial seemed to burst from her throat her muscles tensing. ‘I don’t want to talk about it, Scott.’
‘I agree,’ he said softly, ‘talking would be a waste of time, especially when there are other ways of communicating.’ He turned over before she could move, pulling her down on to the bed beside him, silencing her protests with his mouth, slowly releasing her throbbing lips to run his tongue lightly over their full contours. ‘Scott, please don’t do this.’
His thumb followed the line of his tongue, making it impossible for her to think, never mind object, his teeth tasting the satiny skin just inside her lower lip, sending hot waves of pleasure flooding through her body.
‘Scott, please,’ she moaned again, ‘Why are you doing this…?’ She twisted her head desperately, seeking to avoid the persuasion of his mouth, but it moved capriciously over her skin, seeking and finding the vulnerable curve of her ear, tasting the warm flesh of her throat, his voice muffled against her skin as he said softly, ‘Simon should have a sister, or a brother, don’t you agree.…’
‘Scott, no!’
‘Philippa, yes!’ His mouth was no longer teasing, but urgent as it covered hers, plunging her deep into volcanic pleasure, his tongue sliding past the barrier of her teeth, making her forget that she had vowed this would never happen again. Her pulses thudded out their undeniable response to his touch, her body moving against him hungrily defying all her dictates that it should not, her small gasp of pleasure when he pushed aside the thin covering of her robe and found the rounded warmth of her breast, going unchecked.
He made love to her with a finesse that bordered on tenderness, not allowing her to fight her response, overwhelming her with the stroke of his hands and lips until she was clinging mindlessly to him, raking her nails lightly across the taut flesh of his stomach in a torment of need as he teased the pink crests of her breasts. His every touch seemed to incite her to abandon herself completely to him, losing herself in sensations she had tried to banish, stopping only when he felt the inciting movement of her hips against his, his arousal tormentingly obvious, so much so that she couldn’t understand at first why he was pushing her away.
‘I thought you didn’t want me?’
What did he want from her? Total debasement? ‘I want you.’ She made the admission dully, adding achingly, ‘Please, Scott, I want you.’ She closed her eyes, feeling the hot, scalding tears burning against her lids as she compounded her own humiliation.
‘Why? Why do you want me, Philippa?’ His hand cupped her breasts, his thumb stroking lazily against her nipple until she was writhing helplessly in his arms, shuddering with sexual tension, mindless with the ache he was deliberately arousing, helpless to deny her love for him.
‘Is it because you still love me?’
‘No,’ she lied, twisting desperately away from him, but he wouldn’t let her go. ‘You do,’ he insisted thickly, his mouth moving hotly over her skin. ‘You love me, Philippa, say it… tell me.…’ His hand cupped her breast, his mouth hotly sweet as it closed over it, his control suddenly breaking as he felt her response. ‘Tell me you love me. Say it, say it,’ he commanded between the caresses and kisses that burned her skin. ‘Say it… Philippa, say it.…’ She wanted to deny it, but suddenly she knew she couldn’t, and the words fell from her tongue in a husky litany that brought a torrent of heated passion flooding through her body, sensitising every nerve ending, every centimetre of skin so that Scott’s fevered possession of her body transcended anything she had known before, her response tearing a hoarse cry of pleasure from his throat as their bodies moved feverishly together, finding their own method of communication, the words Scott had wanted to hear filling the room as she
cried them out in soft ecstasy against his skin.
* * *
‘Philippa.’ She didn’t want to open her eyes, but she knew that Scott knew she was awake. The room was in darkness. While she had slept Scott had gone into his own room and switched off the light, but why had he come back to hers, and moreover why was he in bed with her?
‘Why did you pretend you didn’t love me any longer?’
‘I don’t.’
‘You just said you did,’ he reminded her softly.
‘How could I love a man who wants to hurt me the way you do?’ she cried out painfully. ‘The Scott I loved would never.…’ She swallowed hard, and said, ‘I could understand that you were bitter because you thought I’d lied and cheated, but you seemed to hate me so violently that I thought it was hopeless trying to tell you the truth.’ A deep shudder trembled through her body and she tensed as Scott drew her to him, reacting immediately to the warmth of his skin against hers and the soft brush of his fingers over her body.
‘I told myself that I did hate you,’ he agreed quietly. ‘It was the only way I could retain my sanity. I was sick with jealousy; so much so that it corroded my ability to see clearly, distorting my powers of reasoning. I couldn’t look at Simon without remembering how it had been between us, and how you had told me that it meant nothing, that it was Geoff Rivers you loved. But that last night we had together after we had been out for dinner.… Why were you so desperately anxious to leave that you had to go without a word to me?’
‘You were asleep. I wanted to tell Simon. It was what we had agreed… that I would leave. That evening you told your mother I was leaving.…’
‘Why did you let me make love to you that night?’
‘I…’ she floundered desperately looking for an explanation that wouldn’t give her away. ‘I.…’
‘You still love me.’ Scott supplied for her softly, watching the colour come and go in her face; the betrayal of her eyes. It was only when he exhaled that Philippa realised how tense he had been. ‘My mother told me,’ he said roughly, ‘but I didn’t believe her. I couldn’t. Philippa, how could you still love me after what I’ve done to you?’ He groaned the words against her throat, ‘You ought to hate me.’
‘The way you hate me?’ The words were husky with a pain she couldn’t conceal, but they had to be said.
‘The way I tried to hate you,’ Scott corrected still watching her, ‘I love you, Philippa.’
For a second she thought her heart had stopped beating, and then it started up again, quick jerky thuds that corresponded with her disordered thoughts. Was she imagining things or was this Scott actually telling her that he loved her? ‘Why do you think I was so ragingly jealous of any other man who came near you? Why do you think I leapt at the excuse to keep you here, when I should have let you go, finding you a job, forcing you to stay when you had made it plain that you felt nothing for me?’
‘You love me? But I didn’t know. I.…’ Her tears had stopped, and he reached towards her, placing his fingers against her soft mouth. ‘How could you not know?’ he groaned huskily, ‘I betrayed how I felt every time I came within a yard of you.’
‘I thought you were simply trying to torment me, to make me want you physically.’ She flushed a little, remembering how he had touched her and how she had responded, knowing that both of them had been blind mentally, although their bodies had sensed the truth.
‘Tormenting you?’ he groaned again. ‘Have you any idea of the agony I endured, wanting you, having you in my arms, responding to me, so… so eagerly and yet not loving me. It was torture. It stripped my pride to the bone and left me aching with pain, savage with the intensity of it. You gave me your body, but I knew all the time that you were holding aloof from me, keeping some part of yourself hidden.’ His voice was raw with a pain that found an echo in her own heart.
‘I had to,’ she said huskily, ‘I couldn’t let you see that I still loved you.’
‘So you let me think that you were sublimating your physical desire for Geoff, with me. Dear God, when you told me that I could have killed you.…’
‘I know.’
‘Mmm, you definitely drew blood there,’ he agreed softly. ‘No man likes to be told he’s being used simply as a stud. It’s apt to have a decidedly cooling effect upon one’s ardour.…’
‘I hadn’t noticed.’ She said it demurely and was rewarded with the brief warning pressure; of his fingers against her waist. ‘You were driving me insane. That night after we’d had dinner together I think I went a little crazy. I was determined to make you admit that you wanted me, only that wasn’t enough. I wanted you to want only me, and not just want, but love. When Mother told me that you did, I couldn’t believe it. That was when I decided I was going to force you to marry me. Once married I thought it wouldn’t take too long to break down the barriers and get you to admit how you felt about me, thus allowing me to admit how I felt about you, but I hadn’t taken into account how much I’d hurt you.’
‘We’ve both made mistakes.…’
‘Umm.…’ She sensed what he was thinking and said hesitantly, ‘I did think I was doing what was best for you, Scott, I knew how much you loved this place.…’
‘But never more than you,’ he said with a fiercely desperate anger, ‘Dear God, when I knew the truth, I couldn’t understand how I could have failed you; how you could ever believe that stones and mortar however precious could mean more to me than you did… than you still do. I had thought you guilty of greed; of betrayal… I’d told myself you were shallow, worthless, and that you’d taken me for a fool. When I discovered the truth I.… Tell me again that you love me.…’
‘Always.’ She said it softly against his mouth, feeling his body take fire from hers.
‘I love you so much.’ He groaned the words against her mouth, his arms tightening possessively around her. ‘You can’t know how much.… All these years I’ve dreamed about holding you like this. About turning back the clock and finding that it was all a mistake. I should have had more trust in you. I should have looked below the surface, but my grandfather had undermined my self-confidence so much that I never doubted that you did prefer Geoff to me. Forgive me?’ The words were muffled by the drumbeat of his heart against her, but they still had the power to dissolve the last of her doubts, melting them away to nothing, trust, love, longing, clearly revealed in her eyes as she lifted her head to look down at him.
‘Only if you forgive me,’ she responded softly, opening her arms wide to hold the hard warmth of him, knowing that later they would talk again but that now they would bind each other’s wounds, salving them with the physical expression of their mutual love.
Scott bent his head, his mouth hotly possessive against hers, this his first kiss to her as her husband, her love and the father of their child. ‘A new beginning,’ he promised softly. ‘Tonight we’ll expiate the past and let it die, agreed?’
‘Agreed. Love me, Scott,’ she begged softly. ‘Love me all the ways I’ve dreamed of you loving me in all the time we’ve been apart.…’
‘It will be my pleasure.…’
She laughed softly into his throat, stroking the hard muscles of his back and teased softly, ‘Oh? I thought it might be our pleasure.’
* * * * *
If you enjoyed this story by
NEW YORK TIMES bestselling author
PENNY JORDAN,
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Recommended Read for March 2017
Carol Marinelli celebrates her 100th book!
THE INNOCENT’S SECRET BABY
Raul Di Savo desires more than Lydia Hayward’s body—his seduction will stop his rival buying her! Raul’s expert touch awakens
Lydia to irresistible pleasure, but his game of revenge forces Lydia to leave…until an unexpected consequence binds them forever!
Now, read on for a tantalizing excerpt of USA Today bestselling author
Carol Marinelli’s 100th book,
THE INNOCENT’S SECRET BABY
The first in her new Billionaires & One-Night Heirs trilogy!
Raul Di Savo desires more than Lydia Hayward’s body—his seduction will stop his rival buying her! Raul’s expert touch awakens Lydia to irresistible pleasure, but his game of revenge forces Lydia to leave…until an unexpected consequence binds them forever!
Read on to get a glimpse of
THE INNOCENT’S SECRET BABY
CHAPTER ONE
ROME AGAIN… ROME again…
The City of Love.
Wrapped in a towel, and damp from the shower, Lydia Hayward lay on the bed in her hotel suite and considered the irony.
Yes, she might be in Rome, and meeting tonight with a very eligible man, but it had nothing to do with love.
There were more practical matters that needed to be addressed.
Oh, it hadn’t been said outright, of course.
Her mother hadn’t sat her down one evening and explained that, without the vast and practically bottomless pit of money that this man could provide, they would lose everything. Everything being the castle they lived in, which was the family business too.
And Valerie had never said that Lydia had to sleep with the man she and her stepfather were meeting tonight.
Of course she hadn’t.
Valerie had, however, enquired whether Lydia was on the Pill.
‘You don’t want to ruin your holiday.’
Since when had her mother taken an interest in such things? Lydia had been to Italy once before, on a school trip at the age of seventeen, and her mother hadn’t been concerned enough to ask then.
Anyway, why would she be on the Pill?
Lydia had been told to ‘save’ herself.