Tough. She was proud of Joe and she’d be proud to introduce him to her colleagues.
She heard his knock on the door. She checked herself in the mirror. Picked up her purse and her shawl from the bed. Took another quick glance in the mirror, and wiped back a recalcitrant wisp of hair. Sprayed on more perfume. Checked in the mirror again. Then jumped as Joe rapped again on the door, louder this time.
She hurried down the stairs. How would he look when she opened the door to him? She braced herself for what she might see—and reminded herself she’d accept without comment whatever he was wearing. Embedded in her mind was an image of how he’d looked the very first time she’d opened the door to him just two weeks before.
She pulled open the door. And had to stifle a gasp.
Standing in the doorway was a sophisticate in an elegantly tailored tuxedo that did more for his broad-shouldered physique than any tight T-shirt. Gone was the ponytail tied back with leather. His hair was still longish but now fashionably styled. He was clean-shaven. Only the ear stud remained to remind her of Joe the biker.
Allison stared at him, weak-kneed with admiration. He looked mind-bendingly handsome. If she’d met him at a party she’d have been too nervous to talk to him. He could have his pick of any woman he wanted. But—for tonight, anyway—he was hers. The thought sent a delicious shudder of pleasure through her body.
He stared back, his narrowed eyes travelling in appraisal down the length of her silky, clinging dress and upward again. His gaze told her she looked beautiful but he said it anyway, in his sexy, husky voice.
“You look beautiful, too,” she said with a catch in her voice. “Well, I don’t mean beautiful...I mean...I do mean beautiful.”
In reply he leaned forward and claimed her mouth with his, holding her face possessively between his hands. His hands were warm on her skin and his mouth was hot with the promise of fierce pleasures. She felt flooded with a wild longing for him and her mouth opened eagerly under his.
His hands slid from her face, down her neck and her shoulders and he pulled her close to him. She trembled at his nearness, at his hard strength. Her fingers wove through his hair as she kissed him and forgot time, place; only aware of her craving for him.
Then she heard a noise behind her. She pulled reluctantly away from Joe, her heart pounding, her breath ragged.
“Oh...uh, Katie,” she stammered. The sight of her young nanny, grinning knowingly at her, pulled Allison back to reality.
She flushed at being caught in such a passionate kiss on her doorstep with Joe, but then overcame her embarrassment to smile back at Katie.
Her nanny was burning with curiosity about her predecessor and had been quizzing her about Joe as they’d got Mitchell through his evening routine. Allison was on such good terms with Katie she’d let herself be teased about her date. She’d felt like a teenager as she’d confessed to Katie how attractive she found Joe.
Now she could see, from the way Katie was checking out Joe, she had formed the same opinion.
Allison felt a lurch of insecurity as she saw Katie as Joe might see her.
Pretty. Young. Only twenty-one, slender, her narrow hips shown off in tight, faded jeans. Her tight, ribbed top clung to pert, perfect breasts and revealed a goodly portion of tanned, flat tummy.
A little of Allison’s joy in her own appearance deflated. She’d forgotten about the age difference between her and Joe; in some ways he seemed more grown up than she did. But, at twenty-seven, he could take his pick of desirable young girls like Katie.
Joe offered a business-like hand to Katie and shook it. Allison’s heart sang with relief as she realized Joe was only showing necessary politeness to her pretty young nanny. There wasn’t a trace of lustful appraisal—except when he looked at Allison.
“I trust you’re enjoying looking after Mitchell as much as I did,” he said to Katie.
“I’m very glad to be back with him, he’s a darling,” Katie said, equally polite.
“Both Mrs. Bradley and I appreciate you being able to stay on and babysit for the evening. Is everything under control?” Joe asked.
“Absolutely. Stay out as long as you like,” Katie said as she flashed a conspiratorial look at Allison.
Joe took Allison’s arm to steer her through the door and down the path. His fingers burned on her bare flesh, his body nudged hers as they walked. She felt momentarily light-headed at the wave of desire and anticipation that swept over her.
He opened the gate for her with natural courtesy. She looked for his station wagon. She assumed she wasn’t riding pillion on his Harley—though for one crazy moment she wished she were. With her arms wrapped around his body as he roared away with her, not to the banker’s ball but to some wildly romantic place where they could be alone. Just the two of them...
Then she noticed the sleek black limousine double-parked outside her house.
“Joe,” she said, “we’re not...you didn’t...”
“Of course,” he said, as the driver came around to open the door for them.
She slid into the car’s leather luxury. Champagne sat cooling in a bucket and fresh flowers scented the air.
Joe didn’t seem to think there was anything unusual in their mode of transport. He folded his long legs in next to her and settled back as if he were used to riding in limos. He instructed the driver to take them to the city hotel where the awards dinner was being held. Then he poured a glass of champagne for her.
Allison felt elation bubbling up inside her like the champagne bubbles exploding in her glass. It was only a short ride into town. The limo was an utter extravagance, a wonderful and totally unexpected gesture on Joe’s part.
She put down her champagne and slid closer to him so their legs were touching. She was heart-stoppingly aware of every inch of contact. Wonderingly, with tentative fingers, she reached out and touched his perfectly-tied bow tie. “But you told me you’d never wear a suit and tie again.”
Joe shrugged his broad, powerful shoulders. His face was in half-darkness in the car but she could see his blue eyes gleaming with good humor and—was she imagining it?—tenderness. He tilted her chin upward. “Did you think I’d let you down?”
Her heart leaped with a new and unexpected joy. Joe had cut his hair and put on a hateful suit and tie for her. His only reason for doing it was to please her. Because he knew how important appearances were in the corporate world in which she moved.
His simple gesture made her feel special, more special and important than she ever had in her life.
“I’m glad you didn’t take out your earring,” she said.
He grinned. “That would have been taking things too far.”
Allison laughed and he took her hand in his. She reveled in the warmth and strength of it as his fingers intertwined with hers.
She remembered how his hands had felt on her body, caressing her breasts, awakening her body to passions she’d never felt before. She could hardly breathe as the excited anticipation of how this evening might end built up inside her.
How he sat there simply holding Allison’s hand Joe didn’t know. What he really wanted to do was make love to her right there and then, on the ample back seat of the limo.
Was she as naive as she seemed, or didn’t she realise that dress had a look of lingerie about it? Combine that with the messed-up hair and a man couldn’t help but think this is how she’d look emerging from her bedroom after a night of loving. She looked lovelier than he’d ever seen her.
He had to resist his primitive urge to take her shawl and cover the alluring swell of her breasts from other men’s eyes. But hell. Who cared if Clive and the other guys ogled her? They could look and long for her all they liked. She was with him.
He wasn’t questioning why or how this woman had so quickly become so important to him. He wasn’t looking at the impact meeting her might have on his carefully mapped out plans for his future. He wasn’t looking any further ahead than the evening.
Right now,
what he had to concentrate on was stopping himself from staring too blatantly at the line of her long slender legs under that clinging, silky dress. When she walked it swished around her legs and molded to her shapely bottom.
Was she wearing a garter belt underneath its silky folds? He wanted to bunch that skirt up over her knees, slide his hand up her thighs and find out.
Instead, he pulled her to him and kissed her as thoroughly as he could in the few minutes before the car got them to their destination, exulting in her eager response and the light of passionate promise that shone from her eyes.
The first person Allison saw as she and Joe walked into the crowded ballroom of one of Sydney’s best hotels was Peter, her ex-husband.
She gritted her teeth. She’d known he would be probably be there; he worked at a rival bank. But she’d hoped she wouldn’t find herself anywhere near him. Peter caught her eye, looked her up and down so appraisingly it was almost insulting, then lifted a hand in greeting without coming any nearer.
Allison felt the same mix of pain and anger she always felt on the rare occasions she encountered her ex-husband. She’d loved him once, but now she almost hated him for the cruel way he’d treated her and the way he’d left her with the debts she was struggling to pay. If he weren’t Mitchell’s father she’d never want anything to do with him again.
Joe’s face was grim. He’d obviously recognized Peter from his photos.
“So that’s the bastard who walked out on you and Mitchell.”
She nodded. “At that stage it was just me. I was...I was pregnant.”
“That makes it even worse. And now he’s too gutless to even come over and say hello.”
Allison was indifferent to Peter as a man now, but she had trouble coming to terms with his heartlessness toward his son.
Joe’s mouth set into a tight line as he watched Peter through narrowed eyes. He took a step in Peter’s direction, his hands bunched into fists. “I’d like to teach him some manners.”
Allison caught him by the arm. “Don’t say anything.” She couldn’t bear it if any unpleasantness about Peter ruined this night with Joe.
Joe made a grimace of distaste, “I want to—”
“Please, Joe.” She tightened her grip on his arm. Was she facing the prospect of Joe and her ex-husband brawling at the banker’s ball?
The glint of battle was gleaming in Joe’s eyes but his fists unclenched. “Okay. We’ll steer clear of him,” he said. “For your sake.”
“Our table is over there,” Allison said, relieved. “Come on, let’s join them.”
She enjoyed the look on Clive’s face as she introduced Joe around the table. Her “bit of rough” was as well-dressed, as well-educated and as well-spoken as any of the other men. And way, way better looking.
Allison floated through the evening on a cloud of happiness. She scarcely heard the stuffy speeches that comprised the formal part of the evening. And dancing with Joe made her forget everything but the pleasure of being in his arms.
When the music stopped for a break, she watched Joe as he made polite, informed talk with the vice-president of her bank. Joe was looking very serious and nodding in all the right places.
She felt inordinately proud of him. But, she realized, she might not have found him so attractive if this unexpected corporate identity had been all there was to his personality. There were plenty of conforming corporate men around. The room was packed with them.
But there was only one Joe. And there was something about him that made him special and impossible to categorize.
She thought about him tenderly wiping cereal from Mitchell’s hair; cooking in her kitchen with a dishtowel tied around his waist; up on stage bringing delight to hundreds of children. Her heart swelled so much with emotion it almost hurt.
Joe didn’t care what people thought of him. But that wasn’t arrogant rebelliousness, as she had thought at first. He was his own person, secure in his own identity, not afraid to go out into the world and get from it what he wanted.
That self-confidence was his strength, not just physical but emotional. Unlike Peter, Joe was a man strong enough not to need to put her down to boost his own ego.
She wasn’t very good at guessing other people’s feelings, but his actions tonight gave her some hope that maybe he was growing to care for her, too. It had been a big thing for him to conform to this conservative image for her. She knew it, and her heart sang in appreciation.
If only his attitude to Mitchell could be different. That was the insurmountable stumbling block. But she’d vowed to give him time to get used to the thought she and Mitchell came as a package.
Time was something they hadn’t so far had much of.
Joe shook the vice-president’s hand and the older man turned away to another group of people.
Allison found herself unable to stop looking at Joe: at the way his jaw was starting to shadow; at the sensuous curve of his top lip; at the breadth of his shoulders. Had a man ever looked better in a tuxedo? A shudder of desire ran through her.
Joe turned and intercepted her gaze. For a long second he looked back at her, deep into her eyes, and Allison felt as though the air between was charged.
“I’ve had enough. How about you?” he said, his voice husky.
All she wanted was to be alone with him. “I’ll get my purse,” she said.
Before the elevator doors slid closed behind them, Joe pulled her tightly to him and kissed her with unleashed passion, caressing her breasts until her nipples peaked and her body ached with longing. She responded with equal fervor, sliding her hands inside his shirt, reveling in the feel of his hard chest, twining her fingers in his chest hair.
She was gasping, lightheaded with desire, unsteady on her feet, when the elevator opened in the hotel car park and Joe took her to where his Harley was parked. “I brought it in earlier,” he explained at her incredulous expression. “Hop on.”
Allison stared at the low-slung motorbike, part fearful, part wanting to laugh out loud with excitement. “I’ve never been on a bike before,” she said.
“So you’re a bike virgin,” Joe said. “Relax and enjoy your first time.”
He reached into a saddlebag, pulled out his black leather jacket, and tossed it to her. “Put this on.” He unclipped the two helmets fastened to the bike and put one on.
Still dazed, Allison shrugged herself into Joe’s jacket, enveloping herself in his scent. It was way too big and she had to fold back the sleeves. She stood as he fastened the second helmet under her chin, trembling where his fingers touched her.
Joe mounted the Harley. What about her evening dress and high-heeled shoes? With reckless disregard for her finery, she hitched up her long skirts and climbed on behind him. Joe sat low on his seat, his legs ahead of him, leaning back against her.
The pillion seat was a step up behind him and she rested her hands on his shoulders, choosing to grip his body rather than the sissy bar behind her. Then, with a few powerful kicks, he started the machine and they took off, the forward thrust pushing Joe back against her. The throaty roar of the engine seemed to hang in the air behind them.
They left the city behind and crossed the Harbour Bridge but zoomed past the exit for her house. “Where are we going?” Allison shouted. But the wind snatched the voice from her mouth and the helmet muffled any reply.
Joe let out the throttle as they hit the freeway. Allison laughed at the exhilaration of the speed; the way the bike’s motor throbbed and vibrated through her body. She, Joe and the machine were one.
They left the freeway and headed for the water. Finally, the bike glided to a halt at the end of a narrow road, houses left far behind. One of the smaller harbor beaches lay just a short walk away through a patch of bushland. Allison wasn’t worried about staying out with Joe; Mitchell was in good hands and Katie wasn’t expecting her home until later.
There were no streetlights but her eyes quickly adjusted to moonlight. She and Joe took off their helmets and she s
lipped off her high-heels. Then Joe took her hand and they found their way through a stand of eucalypts and onto the sand.
She and Joe were the only people on the sheltered beach. It was a warm spring night, the sky dazzling with stars. The air was tangy with salt and eucalypt; tiny waves swished and swirled onto the sand.
Allison knew all the beauty was there but was oblivious to it. The world had shrunk to just her and Joe.
“I dreamed about you here with me,” Joe murmured, so huskily Allison couldn’t be sure she’d heard him properly. “Come here,” he said.
Allison knew this was her moment of decision. She’d had enough of saying no. She sighed and surrendered. Surrendered her mouth. Surrendered her body. Surrendered her heart.
Joe tasted her lips with small, teasing kisses that she returned with equal fervor. It was she who darted her tongue into the warmth of his mouth, teasing, exploring until he moaned with pleasure.
His arms tightened around her and, without breaking their intimate contact, he pulled her down with him onto the sand. She twined her arms around his neck. Her breasts pressed against his chest and her nipples tingled as they hardened. She felt tense with awareness and anticipation.
They kissed, hungrily, urgently for a long time before Joe broke away from her mouth to plant a trail of hot kisses along her neck. The caress of his mouth and the rasp of his beard electrified her senses. She found a smooth spot on the curve of his jaw to kiss and nuzzle. She inhaled his special Joe smell, then nibbled on the lobe of his ear.
When his mouth again possessed hers, she shuddered with pleasure. He pushed the leather jacket off of her shoulders and swept over the silky fabric of her dress; her nipples stood rigid to attention, aching for his touch. He broke away from the kiss and this time the path of burning kisses went to the edge of her plunging neckline. He nudged away the fabric of her dress and then the lace of her half-cup bra.
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