Harlequin KISS August 2014 Bundle

by Amy Andrews, Aimee Carson, Avril Tremayne

  ‘Oh, Leo, could you teach me how to make that at least?’

  ‘No. The main meal will be lobster, served with a lemon butter sauce and a variety of salads that I wouldn’t dare describe to you.’

  ‘Lobster! Oh.’ She took a sip of tea. ‘You know, Leo, I saw the most intriguing thing about lobsters on the internet.’

  ‘Yes?’ He sounded wary.

  ‘They are actually immortal! They stay alive until they get eaten.’

  ‘That can’t be true.’

  ‘Which means coming back as a lobster in the next life wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Except...’ Nose-wrinkle. ‘Well, I’m not sure that when they’re caught they’re always killed humanely. So you might be lucky enough to live for ever—or you might get thrown into a pot of boiling water and be absolutely screaming, without even having the ability to make a sound, because some sadistic cook couldn’t be bothered to kill you first.’

  Leo gave a sigh brimming with long suffering. ‘Okay—barramundi it is,’ he said. ‘Coated with lemon and caper butter and wrapped in pancetta, served with in-season asparagus.’

  ‘That sounds divine. And so much more humane.’

  ‘I am not a lobster sadist,’ Leo said, sounding as if he were gritting his teeth.

  ‘Well, of course not.’

  There was the tic. ‘And they are not immortal.’

  ‘Well, they might be—who would know? And they can, a hundred per cent, live to about one hundred and forty years. Which is almost immortal.’

  He regarded her through narrowed eyes. ‘How is it you’ve made it to twenty-five without being murdered?’

  ‘You’re definitely watching too many crime shows.’

  ‘Dessert,’ he said firmly. ‘I’m thinking about figs.’

  ‘Figs. Oh.’ Sip of tea.

  ‘“Figs oh” what? Is this the fruit version of your vegetarian hang-up? Because there will be sugar, you know.’

  ‘It’s not th— Actually, it is partly that. But, more to the point, I think fig pollination is kind of disgusting.’

  He had that fascinated look going on.

  ‘Wasps,’ she said.

  ‘Wasps?’

  ‘They burrow into the fig and lay their eggs in the fruit, then die in there. Ergh. And it’s quite brutal, because on the way in the poor wasp can lose her wings and her antennae—it’s a tight fit, I guess. Come on—you have to agree that’s a bit repulsive. And sad too.’

  Leo had closed his eyes. Tic, tic, tic.

  A moment passed. Another. He opened his eyes and looked at her. ‘So, we’ll serve a variation on the glacé I made for you at Q Brasserie—perhaps with a rose syrup base. And, because it’s a wedding, some Persian confetti.’

  Sunshine beamed at him. ‘That’s just perfect.’

  ‘And remember I know your modus operandi, Sunshine Smart-Ass.’

  ‘But I don’t have one of those!’

  Leo simply put up the ‘stop’ hand. ‘For the non-seafood-lovers there will be ricotta tortellini with burnt-sage butter sauce as an alternative first course, and either chargrilled lime and mint chicken or a Moroccan-style chickpea tagine for your fellow commune dwellers for the main course.’

  ‘Oh, even the chickpea thing sounds good. Because chickpeas are sort of like the meat of vegetables, don’t you think?’

  ‘No, I don’t.’

  ‘What about the cake?’

  ‘Four options: traditional fruit cake, salted caramel—which we can do with either a chocolate or butterscotch base—or coconut.’

  ‘Oh! Oh! Could we do one of those cake-tasting things? You know, where you sit around and try before you buy? I would so love to do a cake-tasting.’

  ‘For the love of God, can’t we just ask the guys what they want?’

  ‘What would be the fun in that?’ Sunshine asked, mystified.

  Leo ran that hand over his head. ‘I’ll talk to Anton—he’s my pâtissier.’

  ‘And I have the most amazing idea for the decoration. Kind of Art Deco—my current favourite thing. Square tiers, decorated with hand-cut architectural detailing, in white and shades of grey, with painted silver accents. Wait a moment—I’ve got a photo.’

  Sunshine leapt off the couch and raced into her office, grabbed the photo and raced back out. ‘What do you think?’ she asked, thrusting it at him.

  But Leo was looking past her into the office.

  She’d forgotten to close the door.

  ‘Oh,’ she said, seeing through his eyes the green-striped wallpaper, the reproduction antique furniture painted in vivid blues, reds, and yellows, the framed prints of lusciously coloured shoes through the ages hung on the walls.

  The urn with Moonbeam’s ashes. In his direct line of sight.

  Oh, no! Sunshine raced back to close the door.

  ‘So!’ she said, her heart beating hard as she came back to sit beside him. ‘So! The cake.’

  ‘I’ll talk to Anton,’ Leo said absently, still looking at the closed door.

  Sunshine decided drastic action was needed—just to make sure he didn’t ask to actually go in there.

  Going with gut feeling—and, all right, secret desire—she hugged him.

  He seemed to freeze for a moment, and then his arms came around her. He gathered her in for one moment. She heard, felt him inhale slowly.

  Wow! He was actually touching her! Voluntarily! Except that this wasn’t exactly touching—it was more. Better! Absorbing! He was absorbing her! Talk about exclamation mark overload!

  His arms were so hard. So was his chest. It should have felt like being pulled against a brick wall...and yet there was something yielding about him. His hand came up, touched the back of her head, fingers sliding into her hair.

  Good. But Sunshine wanted more. Much more.

  She pulled out of his arms, sat back, looked at him. ‘I don’t know how you’re going to take this, Leo,’ she said, ‘but I want to have sex with you.’

  FIVE

  Leo stared. Couldn’t so much as blink.

  A minute ticked by.

  She was waiting for him to speak, her head tilted—the curious bird look.

  Had he heard correctly?

  Had Sunshine Smart just told him, taking matter-of-factness to the level of an art form, that she wanted to have sex with him? And that she didn’t know how he’d take that confession?

  ‘What did you just say?’ he asked at last, and his voice sounded as though he hadn’t used it for a month.

  ‘Just that I want to have sex with you.’ Sunshine pursed her lips, considering him. ‘Are you shocked? Horrified? Appalled? Because you don’t look interested.’

  ‘Gary. Ben. Marco.’ He listed them without elaborating.

  ‘Gary, Ben and Marco?’ she said, as though she had no idea what he was getting at.

  ‘How many lovers do you need?’

  She gave him an Aha! kind of look, then said simply, ‘Okay, I’ll tell you. I’m not sleeping with any of them. I’m not sleeping with anyone. I hoped there would be a spark with Gary, but it never developed. Ben? Twice. But that’s ancient history, and we won’t talk about his addiction to cheesy love songs in the bedroom.’

  Momentary distraction. ‘Ben and cheesy love songs? What is it with people and cheesy love songs?’

  ‘I know—it’s crazy! So, of course, it was never going to go anywhere. Marco—well, that would be a cold day in hell.’ She looked at him. ‘But there’s no need to talk it to death. If you’re not interested let’s just move on. We have a
tough seven weeks ahead, and there’s just not enough time for us to go through an awkward phase.’

  ‘How the hell am I supposed to move on?’ Leo asked, incredulous.

  ‘I said I wanted to have sex with you—not that I wanted to marry you. And only up to four times, which is my limit.’ She looked at him thoughtfully. ‘You don’t suffer from priapism by any chance, do you?’

  ‘From what?’

  ‘Guess not. Well, then—are you, perhaps, a virgin who’s signed some sort of pledge?’

  ‘No, of course I’m not a virgin.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know why you say “of course” like that. There are more virgins out there than you realise. In fact I read on the internet that—’

  ‘And what do you mean, only up to four times?’ he asked, jumping in before she could give him virgin facts. Because he did not want virgin facts.

  ‘Any more than four times and things get messy. You know—emotional. If you don’t want to develop a relationship it’s best to set a limit. And I don’t. Want to develop a relationship. I mean; I do want to set a limit. Hmm, you’re giving me that look.’

  ‘What look?’

  ‘That she’s insane look.’

  ‘That’s because you are. Insane.’

  ‘I’m just sensible, Leo. Men do this stuff all the time. Pick up a girl in a seedy bar—not that we’re in a seedy bar, of course, but you get the picture—then race her off to the bedroom, then do the I’ll-call-you routine when they have no intention of calling. So why can’t I? Well, not the I’ll-call-you thing—I would never say I’d call someone and then not do it. And there really is no reason not to call. Regardless of whether you want to have sex with them again. Because you had to like them in some way to get into bed with them in the first place, so you should want to see where the friendship goes, shouldn’t you? The sex part is kind of incidental—because sex is just...well, sex.’

  Pause.

  Thank God. Because his head was spinning.

  ‘I guess what I’m saying,’ she continued, unabashed, ‘is that it’s better to be up-front about what you want—just sex, just friendship, sex and then friendship. Whatever! But no tragic I love you just to wring an orgasm out of someone.’

  ‘What if you do fall in love?’

  ‘I won’t. I never have. And I never will. I told you before: I won’t let myself care that much.’

  ‘So you’re saying Jonathan and Caleb should give up the idea of marriage and just have sex?’

  Her face softened. ‘No, I’m happy for them. And I know the love thing works for lots of people—my parents are a prime example. It just doesn’t work for me.’

  ‘How do you know if you’ve never been there?’

  ‘Haven’t we already had this discussion?’

  ‘Not thoroughly enough, Sunshine.’

  Another pause. ‘All right, then. The fact is I’m too...intense. I feel things too intensely.’

  ‘Not thoroughly enough,’ he repeated.

  She bit her lower lip, worried it between her teeth. And then, haltingly, she said, ‘I didn’t recover—not properly—from my sister’s death.’ The tears were there, being blinked furiously away. ‘I can’t describe it. The agony. The...agony.’

  ‘That’s a different kind of love,’ he said, but gently.

  ‘A different kind, yes. But the depth... I just think it’s safer, for me, to splash in the shallows—not to swim out of my depth.’ She laughed, but there was no humour in it. ‘Huh. A line of coke and I’d be Natalie.’

  ‘You’re nothing like Natalie. And you already have strong, deep ties—to Jon, to your parents...’

  ‘Yes. I love Jon, and I love my parents. But it was too late to do anything about them; they were already here.’ Small tap over the heart. ‘I’m just limiting further damage.’ She tried to smile. ‘And, anyway, the in-love kind of love would be the most damaging. Because I know how I’d be in love. Kill for him, die for him...’

  ‘The kind I want.’

  ‘The kind you say you want, anyway. Into the abyss, off the cliff. But you’ll see, when you’ve fallen into the abyss, that there’s anguish there—in the fear of losing the one you love, or even just losing the love. And I can’t—won’t—go through that. Because next time I just don’t know how I—’ She stopped. Blew out a breath. ‘Let’s not go there. Let’s just keep the focus on sex.’

  Leo could hear muted noises from outside floating up from the street. Traffic. A laugh. A shout. But inside it was quiet. ‘So you’ve restricted your lovers to a four-night term ever since Moonbeam died? And none of them ever wanted to take things further?’

  ‘They knew it was never going to happen. And I’ve managed to stay good friends with all of them despite that—which is more than you can say. Well, all of them bar one.’

  ‘And what went wrong with him?’

  ‘He just doesn’t like women dictating the terms, so we didn’t even make it to the first...what would you call it?...assignation? Yes, assignation.’ She did the curious bird thing. ‘I’m guessing you’re in his camp.’

  Leo had no idea, at that point, what he thought. But he didn’t like Sunshine telling him which camp he was in, thank you very much! ‘No, I’m not in that camp.’

  Sunshine smiled. ‘So! Are you saying you would consider it, Leo? Sex, I mean?’

  ‘No, I’m not saying that either.’

  Another smile. ‘Shall we try a little experiment, then?’

  Long silence. And then, ‘What kind of experiment?’

  ‘I’ll kiss you and you can see how that makes you feel.’

  He opened his mouth to say no.

  But Sunshine didn’t let him get that far.

  She simply moved so she was straddling him. She undulated, once, against him, and he thought he would explode on the spot. Holy hell. Then she settled, cocooning him between her forearms as she gripped the back of the sofa, one hand on each side of his head. Jonquils. Red silk. Heat and buzz and glow. She dipped her head, nipped his lower lip.

  ‘No, that wasn’t the kiss—that was me signalling my intention, as I promised to do.’ She smiled. ‘So! Ready?’

  Any thought of denying her went straight out of his head like a shot of suddenly liberated steam. Leo gripped her hips, ground her against him, wanting her to feel his raging erection—although he didn’t know why, unless her form of insanity was contagious—and took over, devouring her mouth with a hard, savaging kiss.

  Her mouth was amazing. Open, luscious, drawing him in. His tongue, hot and agile, swept the roof of her mouth, the insides of her cheeks, under her super-sexy top lip. The tart sweetness of the lemony tea was delicious when it was licked from inside her. He could feel that slight gap between her front teeth. He moved his hands, cupped her face to keep her there, just there, so he could taste more deeply.

  He could feel his heart thundering. Became aware that her hands were now fisted in his shirt as she rocked against him, forced her mouth and his wider still. She was whimpering, alternately jamming her tongue into his mouth and then licking his lips. And rocking, rocking, rocking against him until he thought he’d go mad with wanting.

  Then her hands were moving between them, fingers plucking at the button of his jeans, which opened in a ‘thank God’ moment, then sliding his zipper down, freeing him.

  ‘Ah...’ he gasped, pulling his mouth away so he could breathe, try to think. But it was no use. He had to kiss her again.

  She reeled him back in, pulled him closer, angled him so that when she lay back, flattened on the couch, he was on top of her.

  Then his hands were there, pulling up the red silk. Up, up, up. So he could touch her skin, which was like satin. No, not satin—warmer than satin. Velvet...like velvet. His fingers slid higher, closer. He didn’t want to wait—couldn’t wait—ha
d to feel her, to be in her the fastest way he could get there.

  Without disengaging his mouth from hers, he plunged his fingers into her. Again. She arched into the touch.

  She didn’t speak, but breathed out words. His name. ‘Leo. Yes, yes. Leo...’

  And then it wasn’t his fingers but him needing to be there, buried in her as deep as he could go, panting, straining, wanting this, wanting her, silently demanding that she come for him. For him.

  He felt her body tightening, straining, heard his name explode from her lips as the orgasm gripped her. He pushed hard into her, and kissed her drugging mouth again as he followed her into a life-draining release.

  They lay there, connected, in a tangle of clothes, spent.

  After a long moment Sunshine gave a shaky laugh. ‘That was some kiss,’ she said.

  But Leo didn’t feel like laughing. He felt like diving into her again...and also, contrarily, like getting the hell away from her. From her rules. Her determination to fix him in the place where she wanted him. Just where she wanted him. No further.

  Awkwardly, he disengaged himself from her body.

  Sunshine sat up, pushing at her hair with one unsteady hand and at her dress with the other. She looked like the cat that had got the cream.

  Infuriating.

  Mechanically, Leo adjusted his clothing. He was appalled to realise he hadn’t even seen her during that mad sexual scramble. Did that make him some kind of depraved, desperate sex fiend, that he’d treated her body like a receptacle? But then, he hadn’t really needed to see her to know very well that it was her driving him wild—so wild he hadn’t been able to think past the need to be inside her.

  ‘Are you sorry?’ Sunshine asked softly.

  She was watching him with wary concern.

  ‘No. Yes. I don’t know.’

  Tiny laugh. ‘Multiple choice? How...comprehensive.’

  He stood abruptly, shoved his hands in his pockets, not trusting where he’d put them otherwise.