by Sarah Morgan
‘Number nine on the list. So what is my type, Jenna?’
‘I don’t know. Someone stunning. Young. You’re disgustingly handsome and you’re sickeningly clever.’ She mumbled the words, making a mental note never to commit her thoughts to paper again. ‘I may be naive, but I’m not stupid. You could have any woman you want. You don’t need to settle for a mess like me. And now you ought to leave, because all I ever do when you’re around is embarrass myself. I need to get my head together and think about Lexi.’
‘Why do you want to think about Lexi? She’s out enjoying herself.’
Jenna felt her heart bump against her chest. ‘I don’t want to hurt her.’
‘Is it going to hurt her if you spend the day with me?’ His head was near hers, their mouths still close.
‘No. But it might hurt me. I find this whole situation scary,’ she confessed softly. ‘What if I’m doing this for all the wrong reasons?’ She looked up at him. ‘What if I’m trying to prove something? What if I’m just using you to prove to myself that someone finds me attractive?’
‘That objection wasn’t on your list.’ His mouth was against her neck, his tongue trailing across the base of her throat. ‘You’re not allowed to think up new ones.’
‘I can’t think properly when you do that—’
‘Sorry.’ But he didn’t sound sorry, and he didn’t stop what he was doing.
Jenna felt her insides melt but her brain refused to shut up. ‘What if I’m just doing this because I’m angry with Clive?’
With a sigh, Ryan lifted his head. ‘You’re suggesting that kissing me is an act of revenge?’
‘I don’t know. I have no idea what’s going on in my head. What I’m thinking is changing by the minute.’
There was a trace of humour in his eyes as he scanned her face. ‘When you kissed me were you thinking of Clive?’
‘No! But that doesn’t mean it isn’t a reasonable theory.’
‘Answer me one question.’ His mouth was against her neck again and Jenna closed her eyes.
‘What?’
‘If Lexi wasn’t part of the equation—if it were just you and me—what would you like to do now?’
‘Spend the day together, as you suggested. But somewhere private. Somewhere no one will see us.’ She sighed. ‘An impossible request on Glenmore, I know.’
‘Maybe not.’ Stroking her hair away from her face, Ryan gave a slow smile. ‘In fact, I think I know just the place.’
The lighthouse was perched on a circle of grass, and the only approach was down a narrow path that curved out of sight of the road.
‘It’s the most secluded property on the island.’ Ryan held out his hand as she negotiated the stony path. ‘Even Mrs Parker has never been down here.’
Jenna shaded her eyes and stared up towards the top of the lighthouse. ‘It’s incredible. I can’t believe it’s a house.’
‘It used to be fairly basic, but I made a few changes.’ Ryan opened the door and she walked through, into a beautiful circular kitchen.
‘Oh, my!’ Stunned, she glanced around her. It was stylish and yet comfortable, with a huge range cooker, an American fridge and a central island for preparing food. By the window overlooking the sea the owner had placed a table, ensuring that anyone eating there could enjoy the fantastic view. ‘A few changes?’
‘Quite a few changes.’ Ryan leaned against the doorframe, watching her reaction. ‘Do you like it?’
‘I love it. I had no idea—from the outside it looks…’ Lost for words, she shook her head. ‘It’s idyllic.’
‘Do you want breakfast now, or after you’ve looked round?’
‘After…’
‘Oh, yes—objection number four.’ He gave a faint smile and urged her towards an arched doorway and a spiral staircase. ‘I put you off your food. I don’t suppose you’d like to tell me why? I don’t think I’ve ever made a woman feel sick before.’
She giggled. ‘You don’t make me feel sick. You make me sort of churny in my stomach.’
‘Sort of churny?’ He lifted an eyebrow at her description. ‘Is that good or bad?’
‘Good, if you’re trying to lose weight.’
‘Don’t. I like you the way you are.’ He was right behind her on the stairs and it was impossible not to be aware that it was just the two of them in the house.
‘So no one overlooks this?’
‘It’s a very inhospitable part of the coast of Glenmore—hence the reason they built a lighthouse here originally. This is the living room.’
Jenna emerged into another large, circular room, with high ceilings and glass walls. It had been decorated to reflect its coastal surroundings, with white wooden floors, seagrass matting and deep white sofas. Touches of blue added colour and elegant pieces of driftwood added style. A wood-burning stove stood in the centre of the room. ‘This is the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen. I can’t imagine what it must be like to actually live somewhere as special as this.’
‘It was virtually a shell when I bought it from the original owner.’ Ryan strolled over to the window, his back to her. ‘It took me a year to make it properly habitable.’
‘Where did you live while you were renovating it?’
‘I lived here. Amidst the rubble.’
‘You did most of it yourself?’
‘All of it except the glazing. I used a lot of glass and it was too heavy for one person to manipulate.’
Stunned, she looked around her. ‘You did the building—the plumbing, electricity?’
‘I’m a doctor,’ he drawled. ‘I’m used to connecting pipes and electrical circuits. Building a wall isn’t so different to realigning a broken bone—basically you need the thing straight.’
Jenna shook her head in silent admiration and carried on up the spiral staircase. She pushed open a door and discovered a luxurious bathroom, complete with drench shower. Another door revealed a small guest bedroom. Deciding that she’d never seen a more perfect property in her life, Jenna took the final turn in the staircase and found herself in paradise.
The master bedroom had been designed to take maximum advantage of the incredible view, with acres of glass giving a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree outlook on Glenmore.
Speechless, Jenna walked slowly around the perimeter of the breathtaking room. Out of the corner of her eye she was conscious of the enormous bed, but she was also acutely conscious of Ryan, watching her from the head of the spiral staircase. The intimacy was unfamiliar and exciting.
Hardly able to breathe, she stared out across the sparkling sea, watching as the view changed with every step. Far beneath her were vicious rocks that must have sent so many boats tumbling to the bottom of the ocean, but a few paces on and she had a perfect view of the coast path, winding like a ribbon along the grassy flanks of the island. A few more steps and she was looking inland, across wild moorland shaded purple with heather.
‘It’s like living outside.’
‘That was the idea.’
‘I can see everything,’ she whispered, ‘except people. No people.’
‘Just beyond the headland is the Scott farm.’ Ryan was directly behind her now, and he closed his hands over her shoulders, pointing her in the right direction. ‘But everything here is protected land. No building. No people. Occasionally you see someone on the coast path in the distance, but they can’t get down here because the rocks are too dangerous. The path we took is the only way down.’
‘I’ve never been anywhere so perfect.’ Acutely aware of his touch, Jenna could hardly breathe. He was standing close to her and she could feel the brush of his hard body against hers. Her heart racing, she stared up at the roof—and discovered more curving glass. ‘It must be wild here when there’s a storm. Is it scary?’
‘It’s tough glass. You’d be surprised how much sound it blocks out. Do you find storms scary?’ He turned her gently, and suddenly she thought that what she was starting to feel for him was far scarier than any storm.
His mouth was close to hers but he didn’t kiss her, and she wondered whether he was waiting for her to make the decision.
Jenna lifted her hand to his face, the breath trapped in her throat. His jaw was rough against her fingers and she felt him tense, but still he didn’t kiss her. Still he waited.
Consumed by the thrill of anticipation, she wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted her mouth to his, feeling her stomach swoop. It was like jumping off a cliff. As decisions went, this was a big one, and deep down in her gut she knew there would be a price to pay, but right now she didn’t care. If she had to pay, she’d pay.
As her lips touched his she felt the ripple of tension spread across his shoulders—felt the coiled power in his athletic frame.
‘Be sure, Jenna…’ He breathed the words against her mouth, his hand light on her back, still giving her the option of retreat.
But the last thing she had in mind was retreat. She kept her mouth on his and he slid his hands into her hair and held her face still, taking all that she offered and more, his kiss demanding and hungry.
Someone groaned—her or him?—and then his arms came around her and he held her hard against him. The feel of his body made her heart race, and Jenna felt her linen skirt slide to the floor, even though she hadn’t actually felt him undo it. And suddenly she was acutely aware of him—of the strength of his hands, the roughness of his jeans against the softness of her skin, the hard ridge of his arousal—
‘Jenna—I have to—’ His hands were full of her, stripping off her skirt, peeling off underwear until she was naked and writhing against him. And her hands were on him, too, on his zip, which refused to co-operate until he covered her hands with his. This time instead of stopping her, he helped her.
Hearts pounding, mouths fused, they fell to the floor, feasting.
‘The bed is a metre away—’ Ryan had his mouth on her breast and pleasure stabbed hard, stealing her breath. ‘We should probably—’
‘No—too far.’ Terrified he’d stop what he was doing, Jenna clutched at his hair, gasping as she felt his tongue graze her nipple. Sensation shot through her and he teased, nipped and sucked one rigid peak while using his fingers on the other. The burn inside her was almost intolerable. Her hips writhed against the soft rug and she arched in an instinctive attempt to get closer to him. But she wasn’t in charge. He was. Maybe there was some pattern to what he was doing, some sequence, but for her it was all a blur of ecstasy.
The words in her head died as his hand slid between her legs.
It had been two years since a man had touched her intimately, and even before that it had never felt like this. Never before had she felt this restless, burning ache.
‘Ryan—’ The slow, leisurely stroke of his skilled fingers drove her wild. ‘Now.’
‘I haven’t even started…’ His voice was husky against her ear, and his fingers slid deeper. Heat flushed across her skin and her breathing grew shallow. Her hand slid down and circled him and she heard him catch his breath.
‘On second thoughts—now seems like a good idea…’ He slid his hand under her bottom and lifted her, the blunt head of his erection brushing against her thigh.
Trembling with expectation, Jenna curved one thigh over his back and then groaned when he hesitated. ‘Please…’
‘Forgot something—’ His voice hoarse, he eased himself away from her, reached forward and grabbed something from the cupboard by his bed. ‘Damn!’ He struggled with the packet while he kissed her again.
Jenna was panting against his mouth. ‘Just—can you please—?’
‘Yeah, I definitely can.’ He hauled her under him, dropping his forehead to hers. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Is that a serious question?’ She was breathless—desperate—conscious of the press of his body against hers. ‘If you stop now, Ryan McKinley, I swear, I’ll punch you.’
His laugh was low and sexy, and her stomach flipped as she stared into those blue, blue eyes. And then she ceased to notice anything because the roughness of his thigh brushed against hers and then he was against her and inside her and Jenna decided that if sex had ever felt like this before then she must have lost her memory.
Heat spread through her body and she tried to tell him how good it felt, but the sleek thrust of his body drove thought from her brain. He kissed her mouth, then her neck, ran his hand down her side and under her bottom—lifted her—
She moaned his name and he brought his lips back to hers, taking her mouth even as he took her body, and the pleasure was so intense that she could hardly breathe. Her nails sank into his back and the excitement inside her roared forward like a train with no brakes—
‘Oh— I—’ Her orgasm consumed her in a flash of brilliant light and exquisite sensation and she heard him growl deep in his throat, surging deeper inside her as she pulsed around him. She sobbed his name, tightened her grip and felt him thrust hard for the last time. They clung, breathless, riding the wave, going where the pleasure took them.
With a harsh groan Ryan dropped his head onto her shoulder, his breathing dragging in his throat. ‘Are you OK?’
‘No, I don’t think so.’ Weak and shaky, Jenna stared up at the ceiling, shell shocked, stunned by the intensity of what they’d shared. ‘It’s never been like that before.’
‘That’s probably because you’ve never made love on a wooden floor.’ Wincing slightly, Ryan eased his weight off her and rolled onto his back, his arms still round her. ‘I need to buy a different floor covering. This was designed for walking on and aesthetic appearance, not for sex. Do you want to move to the bed?’
‘I don’t want to move at all.’ She just wanted to lie here, with him, staring up at the blue sky and the clouds above them. It seemed a fitting view. ‘It’s perfect here.’
‘Perfect, apart from the bruises.’
‘I don’t have bruises, and even if I do I don’t care.’ She turned and rested her cheek on his chest, revelling in the opportunity to touch him. ‘This morning I was wondering whether I ought to kiss you again—’
‘And what did you decide?’
‘You interrupted me before I’d made my decision.’
‘If you want my opinion, I think you should definitely kiss me again.’ His eyes gleamed with humour and he lifted her chin with his fingers and kissed her lightly. ‘And again.’
Jenna shifted until she lay on top of him. ‘I’ve never done this before.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘You have a child.’
‘I mean I’ve never been so desperate to have sex I couldn’t make it as far as the bed—never lost control like that.’ She kissed the corner of his mouth, unable to resist touching him. ‘I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. Ever since I arrived on the island I’ve wanted you. I thought I was going crazy—’
‘I was going crazy, too.’ He sank his hands into her hair and kissed her. ‘Believe me, you’re not the only one who has been exercising will-power.’
‘I wasn’t sure this was what you wanted.’ She was conscious that she still knew next to nothing about him, and suddenly a stab of anxiety pierced her happiness. ‘Can I ask you something?’ Through the open window she could hear the crash of the waves and the shriek of the seagulls, reminding her how isolated they were.
‘Yes.’
‘Are you married?’
He stilled. ‘You think I’d be lying here with you like this if I were married?’
‘I don’t know. I hope not.’
‘And I hope you know me better than that.’
‘Now I’ve made you angry.’ Suddenly she wished she hadn’t ruined the mood by asking the question. ‘I’m sorry—I shouldn’t
have—’ She broke off and then frowned, knowing that her question was a valid one. ‘You have to understand that I thought I knew Clive, and it turned out I didn’t.’
‘Jenna, I’m not angry. You don’t have to talk about this.’
‘Yes, I do. You thought it was an unjust question, but to me it wasn’t unjust and I need you to understand that.’ Her voice was firm. ‘I lived with a man for sixteen years and I thought I knew him. I married him and had his child, I slept in his bed—we made a life together. And it turned out he had a whole other life going on that didn’t involve me. He had three affairs over the course of our marriage, one of them with a friend of mine. I didn’t find out until the third.’
Ryan pulled her back down into the circle of his arms. ‘You have a right to ask me anything you want to ask me. And I’m not married. Not any more.’
‘Oh.’ Digesting that, she relaxed against him, trailing her fingers over his chest, lingering on dark hair and hard muscle. ‘So it went wrong for you, too?’
‘Yes.’
She waited for him to say something more but he didn’t, and she lay for a moment, listening to his heartbeat, her fingers on his chest.
Obviously that was why he’d come here, she thought to herself. Like her, he’d found comfort in doing something, found a channel for his anger. He’d built something new.
Ryan sighed. ‘I’m sure there are questions you want to ask me.’
But he didn’t want to answer them; she knew that.
‘Yes, I have a question.’ She shifted on top of him, feeling his instant response. ‘How comfortable is that bed of yours?’
‘Fruit, rolls, coffee—’ Ryan started loading a tray. ‘How hungry are you?’
‘Not very. You put me off my food, remember?’ Having pulled on her linen skirt and tee shirt, Jenna sat on a stool watching him.
‘You just used up about ten thousand calories. You need to eat.’ Ryan warmed rolls in the oven, sliced melon and made a pot of coffee. ‘This should be lunch rather than breakfast, but never mind.’
‘Lunch? But we—’ Her gaze slid to the clock on the wall and her eyes widened. ‘Two o’clock?’