by Miranda Lee
A tortured groan punched from his throat. She was so wet down there, wet and wanting him.
She didn’t groan. She gasped and pleaded with him, telling him of her own desperate desire.
At last, when he could not stand it any longer, he yanked down the zip on his trousers and freed his by-then bursting erection. She sat up straight away and moved to straddle him, grabbing onto his shoulders with bruising fingertips whilst he angled his aching flesh up into hers.
He’d shown her how to ride him that night in Sydney, but back then he’d told her to take things slowly and carefully for fear of hurting her. No such worry now. He urged her on to a more powerful rhythm. Not that she needed urging. She was with him all the way, riding him with a thrilling passion which sent him hurtling over the edge in no time flat.
Leo might have been mortified if she hadn’t come at the same time, the force of her climactic contractions punching raw cries from his lungs. She cried out as well, then collapsed against him, her face burying into his neck. He thought he heard her say something. His name, perhaps. He couldn’t be sure. He himself was beyond speaking.
They stayed that way for some time, Leo’s arms locked around her back, her hands squashed between their chests, her soft mouth pressed against his throat. He would have stayed that way for longer, if time hadn’t forced him to make a move.
‘You should get dressed, Violet,’ he said quietly. ‘We’ll be at the hotel soon.’
Her head lifted, her eyes both glazed and dazed. She blinked a couple of times then glanced around her like a person who’d totally forgotten where they were.
‘Oh!’ she half-sobbed, her expression pained as her face went bright red.
Her obvious embarrassment cut him to the quick. For the guilt was his, not hers. He’d been the one leading the action. He’d been the one who’d done the seducing and the stripping.
Not that he felt all that guilty. What they’d just shared had been incredibly exciting and satisfying. He could not bring himself to truly regret any of it. He didn’t want her to regret it either.
‘No, no,’ he said, cupping her burning cheeks within the palms of his hands, holding her face, and her eyes, captive. ‘Don’t you dare feel ashamed of what you just did. There’s nothing wrong with two adults having sex, Violet. You’re a sexy girl. A very sexy girl. It’s one of the things I love about you. You’re just making up for lost time, sweetheart. Look, if you’re worried about anyone outside having seen us, then don’t, because they can’t. We can see out but no one can see in.’
She just kept on staring at him with still unhappy eyes. Damn, he didn’t want her to be unhappy. All he’d wanted to do during this holiday was give her pleasure. And now he’d gone and spoiled things with his impatience.
He sighed. ‘I still shouldn’t have kissed you till we got back to the privacy of the hotel,’ he grumbled with true regret in his voice. ‘I knew if I did I wouldn’t be able to stop. I’m sorry, Violet. Truly sorry. It’s just that I’ve been so damned frustrated. Three months is a long time for a man to go without sex.’
Leo could not believe how relieved he was when she smiled at him.
‘I could have said no, Leo. It was as much my fault as yours.’
God, but he loved how honest she was. Because it was true, in a manner of speaking. At the same time, he could see that something was still bothering her. Her smile certainly didn’t match the smile she’d given him when she’d first climbed into the back of the limousine. Perhaps because it didn’t reach her eyes. Violet had very expressive eyes.
‘I still shouldn’t have started it,’ he admitted, his eyes searching hers. ‘You’re angry with me, aren’t you?’
‘Of course not,’ Violet said. She was angry with herself for being foolish enough to believe that Leo might actually have fallen in love with her. Joy had been right and she was wrong: Leo was a womaniser. Why he’d gone three months without sex to wait for her was anybody’s guess. Possibly because it was something he hadn’t tried before, using enforced celibacy as a type of foreplay. It had certainly made her desperate for him. Had he known that? Was that why he’d made her promise not to date anyone else? It certainly hadn’t been because he would have been jealous.
Joy’s advice about enjoying her Parisian holiday for what it was had been spot-on as well. Clearly, all Leo was offering her was a few days of sightseeing and sex, with the emphasis on sex. If only she could accept that. If only she could stop hoping for more...
Time to grow up, Violet. Time to get dressed as well.
She shuddered at how it would look if someone opened the door and saw her sitting astride Leo in her birthday suit. They would assume—rightly so—that she was a very wanton creature. To claim that it was love which had made her act so shamelessly would not wash. She wasn’t so sure that it washed with her. Leo had once said that lust was much more powerful than love. Violet was beginning to see what he meant. If anyone had told her that she would have sex with Leo in the back of a limousine within minutes of arriving in Paris, she would not have believed them. Lord knew what else was in store for her during the next five days!
Violet tried to drum up some much-needed sense of decorum. But suddenly, her head and her body were overwhelmed by the most corrupting excitement. She knew if she didn’t get off Leo’s lap right then and there she might do something seriously wicked. Because she still wanted more. More and more and more.
Leo saw her face flush as she lifted herself off him and reached for her underclothes. It bothered him that she still felt ashamed of what they’d just done. Possibly it wasn’t shame responsible for the pink in her cheeks, just a return to the physical shyness she’d suffered from when he’d first met her.
And, whilst Leo had been initially captivated by Violet’s innocence and inexperience, he did not want her to stay that way. It certainly wasn’t good for her to develop negative feelings where sex was concerned. Hopefully, during the next few days, Leo could help her see that nothing they did together was shameful or wrong. There was nothing embarrassing about showing him her very beautiful body either. If he had his way, she’d be spending a lot of time naked during their stay in Paris. And not always just in bed.
Still, he made a point of not watching her whilst she dressed, lest it make her uncomfortable. The driver’s announcement through the intercom that they would shortly be arriving at the hotel coincided with Violet reaching for her last piece of clothing, her jacket.
‘Here. Let me help you with that,’ he offered.
‘Thank you,’ she said politely.
Too politely, Leo thought, like they were strangers. Or enemies. She was avoiding his eyes as well. He had to say something to break the ice, for that was what he was getting from her suddenly. A distancing chill.
‘I hope you like the hotel,’ he said.
His comment forced her to glance over at him.
‘I’m sure I will,’ she replied, a strange glitter in her eyes like stars on a cold night.
‘It’s not a new hotel,’ Leo explained, resorting to conversation in an effort to warm Violet up again. ‘It’s quite an old building and has a history second to none. It was once the home of a French countess. Then in the Victorian era, it became a rather notorious bordello.’
‘Heavens!’ Violet exclaimed.
‘As I said, it has a colourful history. Anyway, the bordello closed down after a client was murdered by the madam. A crime of passion, according to trial reports. The madam fell in love with the man—apparently he was very rich and very handsome—but her love was not returned.’
‘Fancy that,’ Violet said. ‘Did she go to jail, this madam?’
‘Not jail—the guillotine. One headline at the time said she’d lost her head over the man. Rather tasteless, but amusing.’
‘Very. They don’t have the death penalty here any more, do they?’
‘What? No, I’m sure they don’t. Why do you ask?’ He could not work out her mood. It wasn’t quite as frosty, but still not
happy. There was definitely a dry, almost sarcastic tone to her questions.
She shrugged her shoulders. ‘No particular reason. So, what happened after that? Was that when it became a hotel?’
‘It did, for a while, but during the Great War it was turned into a convalescent home for soldiers. In 1920 it reverted to being a private residence once more, bought and lovingly restored by a wealthy art dealer.
‘During the Second World War, the house was seized by the Germans and stripped of everything and fell into further disrepair. After that, it stayed empty for years till eventually, it was bought by a property developer who specialised in boutique hotels. The place was totally refurbished from top to toe and opened last year to very good reviews. I’ve never actually stayed here but the pictures on the Internet convinced me it was just the place for a romantic getaway in Paris. Ah...here we are.’
CHAPTER NINETEEN
LEO WAS RIGHT, Violet thought as she stepped out of the limousine and looked, first up at the hotel’s elegant façade, then at its setting in a quiet cobbled street with a café and a bakery just across the road. Just perfect for a romantic getaway.
His using the word ‘romantic’ had gone some way to making her feel better. Because of course that was what she wanted her time with Leo to be—romantic. She hadn’t wanted him just to have sex with her. She’d wanted him to make love to her. To show her that he cared.
Okay, so maybe she’d been naive in thinking he’d fallen in love with her. He’d obviously cared enough to scour all the hotels in Paris for the right place to bring her. He hadn’t just booked a big, flash hotel from a five-star chain which had all the modern bells and whistles. He’d brought her to somewhere more private and intimate, a boutique hotel with a highly individual style and character.
‘Oh Leo,’ she said warmly as she turned to him. ‘It’s lovely.’
He actually looked relieved, making Violet feel guilty for giving him a hard time just now. It wasn’t his fault, she conceded—if somewhat reluctantly—that she’d started hoping for more than he could give.
‘I thought a girl who was once addicted to historical romances might fancy coming to a place with some history. And romance.’
She smiled. ‘You think that it’s having been a brothel is romantic?’
‘A bordello, not a brothel,’ he corrected her. ‘Apparently, a bordello was considered much more salubrious than a brothel. And much more expensive. But I wasn’t referring to that. Now, no more questions. Seeing is worth a thousand words. Come on,’ he said, and took her hand.
Several well-worn stone steps led up to the double front doors, which were huge and made of brass and glass. Before they reached the top step, a uniformed doorman opened both doors with a flourish whilst a second uniformed man hurried down to collect Violet’s luggage from the limousine.
‘Bonjour, Monsieur Wolfe,’ the stand-to-attention doorman said as they approached him. ‘Mademoiselle,’ he added with a polite nod Violet’s way.
‘Bonjour, Philippe,’ Leo answered, impressing Violet that he’d taken the trouble to find out the doorman’s name.
Violet only just managed to stop herself from gasping when they walked into the hotel lobby. She was totally blown away by the place. Never before had she seen anything like it, even in movies. It looked like a mini Versailles, the decor rather over-the-top but, yes, very romantic as well. Gilt-framed mirrors stretched from wall to wall, reflecting everything from her startled self to an impossibly handsome but almost smug-looking Leo. Overhead, crystal chandeliers hung from the ornately decorated ceiling. Underfoot lay a deep-blue carpet, a perfect setting for the myriad gilt-embossed antiques which filled the area.
‘What do you think?’ Leo said by her side.
She looked up at him and smiled. ‘I think this must be costing you a fortune.’
He laughed. ‘You’d be right there. But what’s the good of having money if you don’t spend some of it? And I’ll have a damn sight more money once that movie of ours hits the screen. And all due to you, Violet. With that one simple but spot-on suggestion, you turned that screenplay from a good script into a great one.’
Violet’s heart turned over at his using the word ‘ours’. How wonderful that sounded: ours. Not his—ours. Maybe she wasn’t so silly with her dreams after all.
‘I can’t wait to see it,’ she said.
‘And I can’t wait to show you upstairs. Come on. The lift’s this way.’
The lift was amazing, like something built at the turn of the century. Just a wrought-iron cage with a wooden floor and a door that concertinaed in and out.
‘Don’t worry,’ Leo said reassuringly as he steered her inside the lift and shut the door. ‘It’s only a reproduction. It’s brand spanking new and works like a dream.’
There were only four buttons, she noticed; the hotel was only three storeys high. The building had, after all, once been a home. Violet wasn’t surprised when Leo pressed button number three. Trust him to be on the top floor!
‘The top floor,’ Leo informed her during their ride up, ‘encompasses only two suites with front- and back-facing balconies. Ours has a great view of Paris; you can see the Seine and the Eiffel Tower. Well...the top of the tower, anyway.’
By the time they exited the lift, Violet was dying to see all of it.
The porter was just leaving their suite when they reached the door, Leo slipping him a tip which brought a wide smile to the young man’s face.
‘Merci, Monsieur,’ he said enthusiastically and hurried off whilst Leo waved Violet inside.
Despite knowing what to expect now, decor-wise, her breath still caught in her throat when she walked in, possibly because of the size of the room rather than the interior design. It was simply huge, with very high ceilings and windows, a massive marble fireplace and two sitting areas, as well as a very romantic-looking dining table set for two, complete with candles. The colour scheme was still blue and gold, but the blue was paler, softer, more relaxing. No wall-to-wall mirrors, either, just well-placed wall lights and several gilt-framed paintings for decoration.
‘Wow!’ was all she could think of to say.
‘I’m glad you like it,’ Leo said. ‘All the mod cons are here, but hiding. There’s a flat-screen TV in that wall unit over there. No actual kitchen as such, but tea-making facilities in the sideboard along with a small fridge. People who stay here are encouraged to use the very excellent room service.
‘This suite is serviced by our own personal butler who will bring meals to our room and clear everything away afterwards. There’s also an à la carte dining room on the ground floor which you didn’t get to see. No doubt you will, eventually. But I’ve booked somewhere else for dinner tonight. Unless you’d rather eat up here?’ he added with a searching look of her eyes.
‘I’m happy to do whatever you want,’ she said before she realised how pathetically weak that sounded. But it wasn’t a lie. She was happy to do whatever he wanted now that she could see he did truly care about her. He didn’t just want her for sex. If that was the case, he wouldn’t be planning to take her out tonight. He’d be whisking her off to bed straight away and keeping her there.
‘Come and see the bedroom,’ he said, smiling. ‘I think you’ll be pleased.’
Pleased was not the first word which came to mind when Violet saw the bedroom. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the huge four-poster bed, with its gold satin spread and mountains of matching pillows. A bed made for sex, she thought, her heartbeat going haywire as her gaze fastened on the tasselled cords which hung down at each corner. It was so easy to picture herself, naked and spreadeagled, bound and helpless against the dark desires he could so easily evoke in her. Her mouth dried at the image. How...thrilling.
‘So, what do you think?’ he said with an amused smile in his voice. ‘A bit much, isn’t it? Have you seen what’s up above it?’
She glanced up, her stomach somersaulting at the sight of the mirrored canopy.
‘Heavens!’
she exclaimed.
‘They didn’t show that particular part of the decor on the Internet pictures,’ he said drily from where he was standing beside her. ‘But not to worry. If it really bothers you, we can always make love with the lights off.’
Now her heart stopped beating altogether. Had he really just said ‘make love’ instead of ‘have sex’? Yes, yes; she hadn’t imagined it. He’d actually said those words. A burst of happiness jump-started her heart as she turned to face him.
‘I wouldn’t want the lights off,’ she said.
‘That’s a relief. I’ve been having wicked fantasies involving that damned mirror ever since I arrived yesterday, none of which are played out in the dark.’
Violet tried to picture what those fantasies involved. Did he want to be on top, or her? Suddenly, her mind went back to that earlier image of herself bound naked to the bed, unable to look anywhere but up at her reflection whilst he did Lord knew what to her.
There was no doubt that such a sexy scenario turned her on, but would that be making love?
She didn’t know. She didn’t have enough experience to know. But, as her mind struggled with this dilemma, she recalled all the seriously sexy things that Captain Strongbow had done to his Lady Gwendaline. A lot of their love-making had not happened in a bed. He’d taken her on the floor of his cabin. And on a beach. And in a hammock strung between two coconut trees. Once he’d even performed oral sex on her whilst she was tied, half-naked, to the mast of his ship.
Despite everything, Violet had never been in any doubt that the captain loved his lady, and vice versa.
Okay, so that was how it worked in romantic fiction. The hero and heroine always fell in love and always had a happily-ever-after ending. Real life wasn’t like that, was it? What if Leo didn’t love her? What if this was all still about lust? What if, at the end of this getaway, he said it was over between them both?
Violet had to admit that not once, during the last three months, had Leo ever mentioned what would happen between them after Easter. And she hadn’t dared ask...