She took a deep steadying breath before opening the fridge again and lifting out the bowl of salad he’d obviously prepared while she slept. The crisp salad greens, interspersed with feta, olives and succulent freshly cut tomatoes looked mouthwateringly tempting, but nowhere near as appetizing as the man who was currently walking away from her.
No matter how idyllic this setting, the next two weeks would be absolute hell on earth.
Eight
To her surprise, over the next few days, Loren began to relax in a way she hadn’t managed in some time. Yet beneath the surface a simmering tension lay between her and Alex.
As yet, he’d made no overtures to force their relationship onto a physical level. By day she was eternally grateful for that, but every night as she lay tangled in her sheets aching for the man who slept only a corridor width away from her room, she wondered whether she had indeed made the right decision in denying him her body.
He lied to you, she reminded herself. He appealed to you on an emotional level he knew you could not refuse. He manipulated you for his own ends.
But he hadn’t done so for personal gain, she argued back silently as the moon traversed the sky and she wriggled against her mattress and stared out through the glass doors that led onto a small balcony off her room. He’d done it for his grandfather, to assuage the old man’s sudden and irrational fears about the family’s longevity.
It doesn’t matter, she argued back again, thumping her pillow in frustration as she tried to get comfortable. He should have told her the truth from the start. How on earth did he expect to embark upon a marriage without even honesty between them? Without truth, they had nothing, because they certainly didn’t have love. At least, not a love that was reciprocated.
Giving up on sleep, Loren rose from her bed and walked over to the French doors. She pushed them open and stepped out onto the balcony. The night air was balmy and still, enveloping her in a myriad of scents and sounds. She looked up at the clear night sky, observing the constellations so different to how they appeared back in New Zealand, and suddenly she was struck with a sense of loneliness that brought sudden tears to her eyes.
A tiny sob pushed up from her chest and ejected into the darkness. She gripped the iron balcony railing tight beneath her hands, but no matter how hard she squeezed she could not stop the flow of tears down her cheeks.
This wasn’t how she imagined her life would be. She’d expected happiness. A mutual respect between herself and Alex. Respect that would hopefully grow to become more. Loren dragged a shaking breath into her aching lungs and blinked against the moisture that continued to well in her eyes. It seemed that now she’d started to cry, she was incapable of stopping.
The air beside her shifted and she turned her head to see Alex standing on the balcony beside her. Wearing only a pair of silken pajama pants, he looked like some god risen from the sea in the moonlight. Silver beams caressed the muscled width of his chest and shoulders, throwing the lean, defined strength into shadowed relief.
“What’s wrong?”
“I…” Loren shook her head, averting her eyes, both unwilling and unable to verbalize what ailed her.
Warm, strong arms closed around her in comfort, drawing her against the smooth plane of his chest.
At first she resisted—she didn’t trust him, she couldn’t—but his arms tightened around her and for just that moment she wanted to forget all her dashed hopes and give in to his silent support. She let her cheek settle against his chest, her gulped sobs calming as her breathing adjusted to his, her heartbeat slowing to his strong steady rhythm.
She felt Alex’s chin drop to the top of her head, felt the slight tug of the bristles of his beard in her hair. She nestled in closer, relishing the feel of his body against hers. His masculine form felt unfamiliar to her and yet instantly recognizable—as if this was where she had belonged all her life, safe within the circle of his arms.
Fresh tears sprang to her eyes at the foolishly irrational thought. She may have thought she belonged with him, but the truth couldn’t be more converse.
“Hush, Loren,” he whispered against her hair. “We will work this out.”
“I don’t think we can, Alex.”
“One way or another, we will work it out.”
With a powerful sweep of muscle, Alex lifted her into his arms and took her back into her room. Still holding her to him he settled onto the mattress and leaned back against the padded headrest. Loren’s head rested against his shoulder, her legs across his lap. She struggled to sit up and tried to push him away. With her defenses as weak as they were right now she couldn’t afford to give him any leeway.
“Relax, I’m not going to try and force you into anything. You’re upset. Let me comfort you.”
She hesitated a moment before allowing the slow circular motion of his hand across her back to soothe her. Eventually her eyes slid closed and she allowed her senses to be filled with the gentleness of his touch, the steadiness of his breathing and the delicious warmth and scent of his bare skin.
Alex felt Loren relax by degrees until she finally drifted back off into sleep. Inside, his thoughts were in turmoil. Each day that passed saw them spending practically every waking moment together, yet each day she seemed to withdraw from him more and more. So much so that tonight she hadn’t even felt as if she could accept his comfort.
Ironically, that had hurt more than the days they’d spent together so far, where he’d fought to keep his libido firmly under control, and far more than the nights where he’d lain on his bed, wondering if a quick dip in the Adriatic Sea would help diminish the fire raging under his skin.
He remembered back to a time when she’d been just a toddler. Her parents had been visiting his and for one reason or another she’d taken a tumble. Rather than seek consolation from either her father or mother, she’d tottered toward him, past them both, and offered her grazed palms for his inspection and reassurance that she was okay.
His brothers had teased him mercilessly. He’d been all of ten or eleven years old and they’d thought it hilarious that Loren had come to him. But now, in the moonlit night, with her slumbering in his arms, he remembered how it had secretly made him feel. Remembered the sense of responsibility and duty he had to protect her and keep her safe from all harm.
And here he was now, having harmed her in the worst way possible. He’d betrayed her trust and brought her back to a world that was no longer familiar to her, to people whose only memories of her were as a child and not as a woman with hopes and dreams of her own.
Anger curled a tight fist deep in his gut. He should never have interrupted her life. Never have brought her back. She’d had a new world in New Zealand yet she’d eschewed all of that to return to the old one she’d left behind. For him. He owed it to her to somehow make up for that wrong.
He knew that he still had to fulfill his duty to his grandfather and the people of Isla Sagrado. But for the first time, he admitted to himself that duty to family extended beyond his brothers and Abuelo. He was a married man now. His wife came first.
Bright bursts of morning light stabbed at Loren’s eyes, dragging her to full consciousness. Beneath her, her bed had grown increasingly lumpy as she stretched and squirmed awake.
Lumpy? Realization and remembrance dawned with a rush. That lump was her husband; in fact, it was one particular part of her husband. Sometime during the night Alex had slid them both down onto the mattress and, as unaccustomed as she was to sharing a bed with anyone—let alone her husband—Loren had remained sprawled halfway across his body.
Even now the delicious scent of his skin, that blend of spice and citrus tang combined with the heat of his own special smell, teased at her nostrils and warmed her in places that made her squirm again.
“Loren, you will have to stop doing that or I cannot be answerable for my actions.”
“Oh!” she exclaimed, springing away from him as if he’d delivered a high-voltage current directly to her.
&nbs
p; She jumped up off the bed and kept her eyes averted from his prone form, from the irrefutable evidence that her actions had not left him unaffected.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”
Alex sighed. She heard him stretch on the sheets and fought the urge to turn her eyes to him, to drink in the sight of his male beauty.
“Yes, I am sure you didn’t mean to.”
He sounded so tired and a pang of remorse plucked at her conscience. He’d come to her in the night when she was at her most vulnerable and he’d offered solace. No questions asked.
“I’m sorry, Alex. Truly. And I…” She pressed her lips together, looking for the right words. “Thank you for last night.”
“De nada. It is what couples do, after all, is it not? Offer one another ease?”
Her eyes flew to his. She hadn’t misunderstood the double entendre in his remark if the look on his face was anything to go by.
“Yes, well, I appreciate it.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, unsure of what else to say or do.
“Go and have your shower, Loren. You are perfectly safe walking past me. As I said last night, I am not going to force you into anything.”
“Anything else, you mean.”
Alex sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He stood and Loren’s gaze was inexorably drawn to his torso, to his taut stomach and the fine scattering of dark hair that arrowed down from his belly button to the waistband of his pajama pants.
There was a thread of steel in his voice when he spoke, a thread that warned he was barely holding on to his temper.
“Remarks like that are unbecoming to a woman of your intelligence. Whatever my sins, I did not force you into marrying me.”
Loren dropped her head in shame. He was right. She had to stop treating him as if he was solely to blame for their position. He made a sound of disgust and she heard him walk past her and leave the room, his own bedroom door slamming shut behind him.
She should apologize. Before she could change her mind, Loren followed him and knocked tentatively on his door. At his response she slowly opened it and stepped inside.
“I shouldn’t have said what I did. I’m sorry.”
Alex gave her a hard look but the small frown lines that bracketed his mouth eased a little. He gave her a small nod.
“Apology accepted.”
“Thank you.” Unsure of what to do next, Loren started to close the door again. “I’ll leave you to get dressed.”
“Loren?”
“Yes?”
“I am not such an ogre, you know. I am merely a man. A man with responsibilities and needs.”
There was something in the tone of his voice that spoke of a deep-seated longing that struck straight to her core. She felt the inexorable pull of it even as she started to move across the room.
He stood still and watched her as she came toward him, his stance proud. There was a frankness in his eyes that spoke straight to Loren’s heart. In all of this she hadn’t stopped to consider what this marriage had cost him. He hadn’t married her for his own gain but for that of the people of Isla Sagrado and for the sake of his grandfather’s fears. Whether Alex himself believed in the curse was irrelevant. He’d married her out of his respect and love for Abuelo and in determination to do whatever it took to lift the spirits of the people who looked to the del Castillo family for so much.
Loren lifted one hand and raised it to Alex’s cheek, her fingers gently cupping his whisker-rough skin. She slowly rose on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. Softly, shyly, she kissed him. To her chagrin, his lips remained unresponsive beneath hers. Uncertain, she started to pull her hand away, but Alex’s hand shot up to hold it there and to press it against his face, his long fingers covering hers.
“Don’t play with me, Loren. Even I have limits.”
“I…I’m not playing, Alex.”
She reached up to kiss him again, this time feeling a zing of power as she felt his lips tremble beneath hers. She traced the seam of his mouth with the tip of her tongue, feeling suddenly bolder than she’d ever felt before. He was a man who had everything and wanted for nothing. This was all she could give him. Her love.
Alex’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her against his hard male form, showing her in no uncertain terms that he was more than prepared to accept what she offered. Loren stroked her hands across his shoulders, loving the feel of his leashed strength beneath her fingertips. His body burned into hers, making the light summer tank top and cotton shorts she’d worn to bed feel as if they were too much against her skin.
She strained against him, wanting more, yet not quite fully understanding what it was she needed. Alex’s strong hands skimmed down her back and over the mounds of her buttocks, cupping them and pulling her up higher against him. Angling the part of her body that ached with a demanding throb against his arousal. A shock of pleasure radiated through her at the pressure of his sex against her. She felt herself grow damp and hot.
He pulled her to him again and flexed his hips against her, starting a rhythm that made her whole body pulse with need. Loren slid her hands up the cords of his neck and knotted her fingers in his short dark hair, pulling his face down to hers, wanting to absorb every part of him any way she could.
“Lift your legs and put them around my waist,” Alex commanded, his voice vibrating with desire.
Through the haze of passion that focused her senses only on the touch and taste of the man in her arms, she managed to comply. Alex walked them to the bed and laid her down on the sheets, still rumpled from last night. Without losing physical contact, he lay down with her, their bodies aligning perfectly, his legs cradled between hers.
Loren’s breasts ached and swelled against the soft cotton of her top, her nipples pressing like twin points against Alex’s chest. At this moment she hated the barrier that stood between them. As if he read her mind, Alex shifted his weight slightly, then his hands were at the hem of her top, pushing it up and over her head and exposing her small round breasts with their blush-colored peaks.
“So perfect,” he murmured as he traced the outline of first one dusky pink nipple, then the other, with the tip of his finger.
She watched, unable to speak, unable to move, as he moistened his finger with his tongue then retraced the shape of her again. A shudder rippled through her, bringing a small smile of intent to Alex’s face. Then he brought his lips to a tight bud, his tongue flicking out to mimic what his finger had been doing only seconds before.
Another shudder spread through her body, this one bringing a swell of pleasure with it, a swell that ballooned as Alex’s lips closed over her nipple and sucked hard. She nearly leapt off the bed, her body arching into him, wanting all he could give her. His hips held her pinned against the mattress and she hooked her legs around his, running her feet over his calves, the slippery fabric of his pajamas soft and sensual against her soles.
His body felt so different from her own. Stronger, firmer and with an energy vibrating from deep inside of him that excited her both mentally and physically. She knew what was yet to come, knew that there would be discomfort, possibly even pain, but she also knew to the depths of her soul that this was totally right. That out of anyone, Alex was the only man she could ever be this intimate with.
She gasped aloud as he scraped his teeth over her nipple before lavishing more of the same attention to its twin. She thought she would go mad with the sensations he wrung from her body. He was trailing his tongue along the curve of her breast, sending a rash of goose bumps to pepper her skin as, one by one, he traced each rib, lower and lower.
Despite the warm air she felt a shiver flow across her skin. His hands were at the drawstring tie of her shorts, she felt the bow loosen, the fabric begin to give way. Alex pulled himself up onto his knees and tugged her shorts away from her, exposing her body’s deepest intimacy to his scorching gaze.
She felt wanton under the power of his stare and she squirmed against the sheets, relis
hing the feel of high-thread-count cotton softness against the bare skin of her buttocks. Her movement caused a flush to deepen high on Alex’s cheekbones, made his eyes darken even more. He reached for her, his broad hands holding her hips firmly, his fingers splayed across her skin as he lowered his face to the V at the apex of her thighs.
Loren tensed, unsure of what to expect. All tension flowed from her as he pressed his lips with unerring accuracy at the central spot that was the heart of the sensations pouring through her. She felt his tongue gently glide over her sensitized nerves and lost all sense of reality. Again and again his tongue swept over her, gentle at first then firmer until, when she thought she could bear it no longer, he closed his mouth over that spot and suckled as he had done with her nipples only moments ago.
Sensation splintered through her body, at first sharp and then in increasing undulating waves of sheer pleasure reaching a crescendo of feeling she’d never dreamed herself capable of. Her entire body tensed, taut like a bow, before she collapsed back against the bed, weak, spent. Sated.
She sensed Alex’s movement, heard the slither of fabric as he shucked off his pajama bottoms. She opened her eyes as he knelt between her splayed legs, watched as he stroked his hand from base to tip of his erection. He positioned himself at her entrance and she felt the hot, blunt probe of his flesh.
A sudden shaft of fear shot through her. “I haven’t…I mean, I’ve never…”
“Shh,” Alex said soothingly. “I know. I will take care of you, Loren. Trust me.”
She locked her gaze with his, searching for any hint that he could be untrue to her, even now as they lay together with nothing but their past between them.
“I do. I trust you, Alex,” she whispered.
“That’s my girl,” he replied.
He leaned down and kissed her, his tongue sweeping inside her mouth to tangle with hers. She welcomed his invasion, letting her senses focus on the thrust and parry of his kiss, and the blend of her essence and the flavor that was all his.
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