As what?
His lover?
She licked her lips as she pulled the scrunchy from her hair.
Or just someone who was jumping in way out of her depth?
She soaked in a long bath, then hunted around for something suitable to wear but that made her feel even worse. She had convinced herself that she didn’t care about pretty clothes, but as she surveyed her plain skirts and T-shirts she wished that someone would suddenly appear with a magic wand and transform her wardrobe into something frivolous and...pretty.
She did the best she could, but it wasn’t easy for someone who had become a stranger to titillation. She had no idea how to primp herself to look good and gain a man’s attention. She hadn’t worn make-up in years, and her only jewellery was a tiny pearl on a gold chain, which her granny had given her. She fastened it around her neck with still-shaky fingers, but when she surveyed her completed image in the mirror she knew she couldn’t go through with it.
Her mother had been right all along. You really couldn’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. What would Luis say when he saw her with her scrubbed face and her cheap clothes and a pair of sandals which were currently showcasing her unmanicured toes? How could she possibly trot down to the terrace like some sort of prize pony and prepare to give him her virginity?
She began to pace the room, but that only increased her paranoia. What if she phoned him and told him she’d changed her mind? He might be irritated, yes, but he would understand. Wouldn’t he? He might even be relieved.
But still she hesitated as she walked over to the bed, where her cell phone sat on the table beside it.
What would she say?
A soft knock on the door was followed by someone opening it and suddenly Luis was walking into the room. His face was dark with question as his narrow-eyed gaze swept over her.
‘Have you started walking in without being invited?’ she said.
‘I thought I’d better come and find you,’ he answered. ‘But judging from the expression on your face, your no-show on the terrace might indicate something more than your usual poor timekeeping.’
She shook her head and suddenly she didn’t bother to hide her feelings behind a wall of pretending not to care. ‘Luis, I can’t.’
He was walking towards her and she could feel the loud bashing of her heart against her ribcage. Though he was dressed down in jeans and a linen shirt, nothing could disguise the glossy patina of power which moulded itself to him like a second skin. Suddenly, he looked like the towering superstar he really was and Carly felt herself begin to shrink in comparison. How on earth had she put herself in this situation? What had he said about those beautiful women at the airport? As interchangeable as the tyres I used to get through.
Was she out of her mind to contemplate having sex with him?
He was staring down at her. He was so close that she could almost feel the warmth of his body and smell the sandalwood of his soap. She was aware that the bed was within touching distance and she felt torn now—wanting him to reach out for her and terrified of making a fool of herself if he did.
His voice was soft. ‘Can’t what?’
She bit her lip. ‘Can’t go through with this.’
‘Lesson number one: expressing doubt is not the most flattering way to greet your prospective lover. And neither is standing there with a look of horror on your face.’
‘Luis, I’m serious.’
‘Relax,’ he said. ‘And let me look at you.’
She lifted a self-conscious hand towards her collar as his gaze roved over her. The pink T-shirt was new and the plain denim skirt made her hips look less curvy than usual, but even so... ‘I’ve got nothing particularly fancy to wear. And anyway, I certainly wasn’t anticipating this.’
‘But that’s what makes you completely lovely,’ he said unexpectedly. ‘Your lack of calculation and your absence of expectation. Your naturalness is refreshing.’
She stared at him suspiciously. ‘I thought you didn’t like what I wore?’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t, particularly. You certainly don’t make the best of yourself, but your simplicity has an appeal all of its own. Even the most hardened cynic can have his head turned by a pair of shining eyes and the glow of healthy skin. And at last you are showcasing one of your most beautiful assets.’ He lifted a handful of hair and let it fall down around her shoulders. ‘Your hair is the stuff of male fantasy. And right now, you are the stuff of my fantasy.’
‘Luis,’ she said breathlessly, realising that some of the tension had left her, only to be replaced by a new and very different kind of tension, and she saw from the darkening of his eyes that he felt it, too.
He moved his hands to her waist and pulled her close and her heart began thumping dangerously as she felt the warmth of his body against hers.
‘Carly,’ he said softly. ‘Sweet, unexpected Carly.’
She didn’t say anything and part of him was glad, because for the first time Luis felt the whisper of doubt, and maybe her words might have compounded that doubt. He saw the way she looked at him—all darkened eyes and parted lips. All innocence and wonder. And as he moved closer he was overcome by a wave of lust far sweeter than he had anticipated, and hot on its heels came the dark stir of his conscience.
His mouth tightened.
He must not hurt her.
He would not hurt her.
‘Come here,’ he said. He cupped her face with both his hands and slowly brought his head down as he began to kiss her.
At first, he kept it light and teasing—a touch of the lips so fleeting that it barely made contact, though he could taste the subtle flavour of her toothpaste and, for some reason, that drove him crazy. And then he deepened the kiss, flickering his tongue inside her mouth as he began to explore her fully clothed body, and she came to life beneath his touch.
It was the most instant and mind-blowing transformation he had ever encountered. Suddenly, she was all fire. The hands which had been lying inert on his shoulders now moved to curl possessively around his neck as he pulled her even closer.
She kissed him with a passion which took him by surprise. He groaned as she tangled her fingers in his hair and melded her pelvis against his. Her lack of guile and experience was making him feel... Luis heard the roar of his own blood. He wasn’t sure how it was making him feel. Only that, for all his words about wanting a seasoned seduction, he was suddenly peeling off her T-shirt with the same kind of hunger as a hormonally charged teenager. Maybe even more. Because at seventeen everything had been out there waiting for him. Back then he had been completely entranced by women and yet to discover just how devious they could be. He soon found out that what you saw was never the truth. That thick cascades of hair were usually as false as the stories they spun you. That breasts this large usually owed more to the skill of a plastic surgeon, than to nature.
But not with Carly. He swallowed. God, no. Carly seemed...real.
He unclipped her bra and drew back as her breasts tumbled out—the fleshy mounds pale and her nipples the colour of cappuccino. She went to cover them up with her hands but he halted her.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I know they’re too big,’ she said.
‘Are you kidding?’ He smiled. ‘They are perfect. Your nipples are exactly the right size for a man’s mouth. Shall I show you how well they would fit into mine?’
It pleased him that she blushed as she let him remove her hands, leaving those caramel-coloured circles bare to his gaze. He saw her eyelids flicker as if she was fighting something inside her and then they closed as he bent to lick his tongue over one.
‘Luis,’ she moaned.
But now he said nothing; his teasing dialogue forgotten. In truth, he was in no fit state to talk. He felt himself grow harder as he sucked at her nipples and teased them with his teeth until she was making wild gulping little sounds at the back of her throat. Her denim skirt was restricting and it was with unfamiliar difficulty that he tugged i
t down over her hips and thighs, before it pooled at her feet. And when at last he put his hand between her legs her panties were very wet.
Gently rubbing at the moist panel of fabric, he carefully pushed her down on the bed and then drew away from her.
‘Stay right there,’ he commanded unsteadily.
Her voice trembled. ‘You think I’m in any fit state to go anywhere?’
‘You are a woman who constantly surprises me,’ he said drily. ‘So I wouldn’t care to make a wager on that.’
Carly watched as he tugged the clothes from his body with an impatience which seemed charged with extra urgency, though his hand was completely steady as he placed a condom on the locker beside her phone.
She had expected to be daunted by the sight of seeing Luis completely naked and aroused and ready to make love, but she wasn’t. The truth of it was that her starved and eager body felt nothing but relief as he finally dropped his boxer shorts to the floor and joined her on the bed. She could feel the rough hair on his chest squishing against her bare breasts as he kissed her. His hand skated down to her hips, his fingers slipping beneath the elastic of her panties, before sliding them down over her knees.
He kissed her breasts and he kissed her belly. He touched her intimately until she was writhing with pleasure and a hunger which had become all-consuming. Suddenly, she didn’t feel like Carly any more—she felt like... Her head tipped back. She felt like a woman. A real woman, and suddenly the inequality of their experience didn’t matter. Greedily, her fingers explored his body in a way she’d wanted to do for so long. So very long. She touched the angled bones and honed muscle. She skated her fingers over the silken surface of his skin and then she dragged her lips from his, grazing them along his jaw, before finding the warmth of his ear.
‘Please,’ she whispered, barely conscious of what it was she was asking for.
‘Please, what?’ he murmured, his fingers moving down to part her moist labia so that she jerked with pleasure. ‘This?’
She supposed she must have nodded or said something, or maybe it was obvious just from the eager way she clung to him how much she wanted him. She felt him reach out for the condom and the tearing open of the foiled package sounded unnaturally loud to her highly sensitised ears. She knew a moment of trepidation as she felt him prepare himself, but then he was moving over her and she could feel the engorged tip of him pressing against her.
She looked up into his face and the weirdest thing was that the look which passed between them seemed like the most intimate thing which had happened so far.
‘Luis,’ she whispered.
‘It may...hurt a little,’ he said, his voice doing that soft and unsteady thing all over again. ‘I don’t know. I’ll do my best to make sure it doesn’t.’
And then he was easing himself into her. Slowly. Deliciously. Filling her as if her body had been nothing but an empty space, just waiting for him to fill it. It didn’t hurt like the books and the stories sometimes said it did. There was a moment of acute discomfort—but then it was gone. And that was the moment when pleasure began to swamp out trepidation and doubt and every other negative feeling and replaced them all with satisfaction, and joy.
He moved inside her. He coaxed her and teased her. He made anything seem possible. At first she thought the shimmering of something hovering on the edge of her understanding was a flicker of something impossible. But when it happened again she began to stiffen with fear that she might somehow miss it. Like closing your eyes when you were looking at a rainbow and when you opened them again it was gone.
‘Relax, querida,’ he murmured as he made another deep thrust inside her.
Perhaps it was the ‘querida’ which took the fantasy one stage further, which made her believe that anything was possible. She was poised on the brink of something magical, reaching out for something which kept slipping beyond her reach...and then suddenly it was happening. Her body was contracting and it was all about everlasting rainbows as Luis tipped his head back and gave a helpless kind of groan.
And Carly’s body seemed to splinter into a million beautiful pieces.
CHAPTER EIGHT
CARLY COULDN’T SLEEP, and in the end she gave up trying.
Slowly, she got out of a bed which was still rumpled and scented with the unfamiliar smell of sex. Looking down, she saw the indentation of the second pillow; tangible evidence that for the first time in her life she had not slept alone, and she felt her skin shivering with pleasure as she remembered.
She had slept with Luis.
She had given her virginity to the Argentinian playboy with an eagerness which was making her blush even now.
Scooping mussed hair back from her face, she laid her palms over her hot cheeks. Because not very much sleeping had taken place, had it? It had been one long night of discovery.
She swallowed, remembering how nervous she’d been. How she’d been fretting and pacing in her bedroom, too scared to go down to supper. But somehow he had made it all okay. He had come to her room and started kissing her and, instead of being some big deal, it had just seemed to happen. As if it was all perfectly natural and normal, just as he’d said it should be. She had made love with Luis Martinez and he seemed to have enjoyed it just as much as she had done.
Supper had been forgotten and it had been almost ten when he had pulled on his jeans and brought back some of the neglected food from the terrace. They had eaten grapes and slithers of mountain cheese in bed, and he had opened a bottle of wine called Petrus and given a small smile when she had pronounced it ‘really nice’.
And he had gone to his own room just as dawn had begun to filter through the sky in streaks of red and gold. Bending his dark head, he had kissed her and told her it would probably be easier if he wasn’t there in the morning.
He was right about that, too. She knew that. It was nothing but stupidity which made her wish that he’d stayed all night; a flicker of yearning which she knew was dangerous and pointless. So she forced herself to concentrate on the practical instead, which she was good at. She told herself that no way would he want his staff to know how he’d spent the previous evening and she couldn’t think of anything worse than Simone discovering him leaving her bedroom, looking tousled and unshaven. Something like that would only make her own position more difficult...though she hadn’t actually given a lot of thought as to what was going to happen now.
Now that Luis had taken her as his lover.
Padding barefooted into the bathroom, she pulled on the fluffy robe which was hanging on the back of the door and knotted it tightly at her waist. She certainly wasn’t going to do the whole guilt trip—not with herself and not with him. Even if it never happened again, she would always be grateful for the way he’d made her feel. He had set her free from the past. He’d made her realise that she was capable of experiencing the same kind of pleasure as anyone else.
What had he said to her before it had all happened? The one phrase which had stuck out in her mind.
I like your clear-headed way of thinking.
She knew why he’d said that. Because she’d told him she wasn’t hung up on love, or marriage. Because she’d convinced him that she was able to regard this sexual experience with complete objectivity.
So why did she suddenly want to hug her arms around herself and dance around the room, while music played loudly inside her head?
The sun was higher now, turning the sea a deep shade of rose, and when she walked out onto the terrace the air felt still and clear. The house was quiet but her head and body were buzzing and for once the thought of losing herself in a few pages of quantum physics didn’t appeal. She would catch up on her emails, then see what the day would bring. And if Luis had decided that one night was enough—well, she would have to accept it like a grown-up.
She logged onto her email account and found three messages from her sister. The first was titled Where are u? The second consisted of nothing but a long row of question marks, and the third announced, rathe
r more dramatically, WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?
Carly clicked onto this one first, but unusually the email wasn’t peppered with smiley faces or descriptions of her sister’s latest modelling jobs. For once, the message was all about Carly.
Saw a photo of your boss at Nice airport and it looked like YOU in the background. I said to Mum that nobody else would wear a T-shirt like that in the Côte d’Azur!!! Are you really in the south of France with Luis Martinez—and if so what the hell is going on?????
Carly smiled. She wondered how Bella would react if she told her the unbelievable truth. Yes, I am here with Luis. In fact, I told him about my past and he’s decided to teach me everything he knows about sex, which is fairly comprehensive as I’m sure you can guess. Imagine drafting that into an email!
She clicked to reply.
Yes, it’s true. I’ve been helping Luis with his rehab after his accident, and he decided it would be preferable if he got better in the sunshine. It’s absolutely gorgeous here. Aren’t I lucky? Love, Carly xxx
She hit the send button just as someone tapped on the door, but before she had a chance to answer—it opened quietly and Luis walked into the room. He was freshly shaved and his black eyes were alive with vitality and a spark of something else which already she recognised as desire.
‘Hello,’ he said softly as he closed the door behind him.
Carly’s hand crept up to her throat as she realised that the white bathrobe was deeply unflattering and probably added at least ten extra pounds to her frame. ‘I thought you’d decided that it was better not to risk being seen here.’
‘Maybe I’ve changed my mind.’
‘I haven’t even brushed my teeth.’
‘Then go and brush them now,’ he instructed silkily. ‘Because I like the taste of your toothpaste.’
She escaped into the bathroom and when she returned, it was to discover that Luis had dropped his clothes on the floor and was in her bed—completely naked amid the still-rumpled sheets.
The Housekeeper's Awakening Page 10