Ardent Strangers

by Samantha Kately

  I slip the folded list back into its spot and zip it up. Honestly, I’m glad Nathaniel had insisted on waiting until morning; whatever he wrote would be marred so soon after reading Aaron’s wish.

  A knock at the door makes me jump. Shoving the purse back into my bag, I’m about to leap to my feet when Nathaniel peeks his head through the door, his gaze travelling to the bag in my hands.

  Oh, this looks bad. I could piff the bag quickly or drop it behind me…

  With a rueful smile, he steps forward. “Did you read it?”

  I give a smile, which for once is completely innocent. “Nope. I dropped my purse. That’s all.”

  “You weren’t tempted?”

  I smile again—not so innocently.

  “Angel, what am I going to do with you?”

  Stay. Kiss me… Lots of things, really.

  He laughs. “As much as I like that look in your eyes, I’m going to have to get back to work.”

  “It’s a bit late for that, don’t you think?”

  “I plan to be up for the remainder of the night. If I sleep now or entertain a certain violinist, I will miss a very important sunrise. Unless you’re in no hurry to see the list?”

  Oh, I am. “Sunrise works.”

  “Good. I’ll be back for you then.”

  Voices wake me from down the hall. Nathaniel? Aaron?

  I rise from the bed, the sheets slipping off me like water as I pull more satin over my arms, tying the dark blue nightgown with a bow. Following the voices, I’m at the end of the hall, about to descend the staircase, when Aaron exits from the oak doors behind me.

  “See if you can talk any sense into him,” he grunts, glancing back.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nate has this notion that he must reprogram a signal for the stolen drones, and it has to be done this very minute. Considering it’s past three in the morning and the guy hasn’t slept since he arrived back in Melbourne, someone needs to convince him to rest. I’ve all but pushed the off button on his laptop. See if you can do any better.” He strides down the hall and slams the bedroom door beside mine.

  What am I meant to do? Nathaniel told me that he’d be working all night. But Aaron’s worried about him. I could check on him…

  I tiptoe into the entrance of the study. Nathaniel’s laptop is open, but he’s bent over a notepad resting on his knee, the charcoal stick in his hand sweeping the page. His hair is knotted, and I imagine the amount of times he’s tucked it behind his ears tonight. The code must not be going well. I’m equally sure of it when he scrunches up the paper and tosses it across the room, his gaze shifting to mine in surprise.

  I tap on one of the doors, pointlessly announcing my presence. “Can I come in?”

  His mouth twists to the side, and I’m surprised that he would debate such a thing. I turn to leave.

  “Evangeline,” he says. “It’s fine.”

  I walk a few steps into the room and close the doors behind me. “But…?”

  He smiles tightly. “But I sense that getting any work done will be impossible with you in the room.”

  Oh. “I’ll go.”

  But Nathaniel extends his hand. I move closer, heart thudding against my ribs as he pulls me onto his lap, my satin gown draping over him like a blanket. He shifts beneath me as he runs his hand over the curve of my waist. If he’s as turned on as I am he’s not showing it. Then I see it, his lips parting, his eyes filling with an entire new set of ideas of what he could do to me. “You should get some sleep,” he says, guiding me up and away.

  “Hm. If you’re not going to sleep then neither am I. It’s only a few hours until sunrise.”

  “Evangeline, you are making this very difficult.”

  “That’s kind of the idea.”

  “I see that.”

  As Nathaniel gets lost in his screen, I wander around the room. Antique ornaments are everywhere. A massive globe of the world sits in a gilded stand. As I pass bookcases, I run my fingers over textbooks and old classics with creases down their spines. Nearby, photo frames are tucked in the corners of shelves: Nate, Aaron and Damien rock-climbing up a cliff-face; Aaron piloting a small aircraft while Damien looks petrified in the rear seat. An aged photograph shows teenage Nathaniel with Aaron’s family at an air show. Aaron’s mother could be mistaken for a duchess, while his father stands in his military dress, his arms wrapped firmly around them all.

  I smile. Nate looks so happy here. It’s hard to imagine that this is the same boy from the time capsule video.

  I glance over the other frames and find that his own family is noticeably absent. In the last frame, the three friends look to be at a nightclub, lounging alongside a corporate guy whose eyes command my attention. In real life, I think I’d be afraid to speak to him. He might be smiling in the photograph, but there’s something about him that I can’t put my finger on… His dark hair is closely shaven but showing a perfect hairline, while his tanned skin makes Nate and the brothers seem like ghosts. And if I didn’t know Aaron so well, I’d have said that attractive looks were a prerequisite for their exclusive club of four.

  Between the bookcases and the doorway is a large frame of newspaper clippings featuring one Heathcliff Benedict Blake and his medals of valor. Another article celebrates his voluntary work, supporting soldiers who have been wounded by war. In the bottom corner, a new article headlines with: ‘Nathaniel Blake opens his third state-of-the-art hospital and research center, Benedict Memorial, in memory of his late grandfather and war veteran Benedict Blake’. A photograph of the hospital and its geometrically shaped buildings and sculptures shines in the background, while Nathaniel stands at its entrance shaking hands with various politicians. I spy the same commanding guy from before. He stands comfortably beside Nathaniel—tall, dark and debonair, like a dark angel dressed in an expensive suit. The description below names him as Dominque Hargrave, entrepreneur and co-founder of Benedict hospital, CEO of WIRED Apps. I’ve never even heard of Dominique before, but he’s obviously important. I really don’t know much about Nathaniel’s life or the people in it.

  My gazes flickers down to a shot of Nathaniel’s grandfather taken decades before, the same fair hair and dashing smile as his grandson.

  Behind me, Nathaniel clears his throat. “I see you’ve met my grandfather.”

  I turn. “He’s very handsome.” Much like someone else I know…

  “Thank you.” He glances from the photo to me, then returns to his work.

  I make my way back to the end of the sofa where I perch on the edge. “I’ll be over here, staying awake, if you need me.”

  “Be my guest.”

  “I thought I already was,” I say, making him smile.

  “And an extremely distracting one at that. How can you possibly expect me to focus while you’re wearing that?”

  “This?” I say, smoothing the satin. “No. This is nothing to what’s under the gown.”

  “Angel, while I’d love to discover the mysteries of what’s under that nightgown I know I’m never going to finish this if I do, and there’s no way I’m going to be that selfish.”

  “How is that selfish?”

  “Let me see… Stripping you naked and doing everything I’ve wanted to do to your body for the past few weeks or reprogramming the prototype so it can’t follow you… Surprisingly, not a tough call,” he says, tapping away at his keyboard.

  “How is that not a tough call?”

  He peers up from the screen and pushes the table away, pinning me with a determined stare. “Because you’re more important to me than breathing.” He yanks the table toward him again, typing relentlessly.

  A smile wobbles on my lips.

  Half an hour passes and my head has begun to droop. I should probably give up and lie down.

  “I can’t do this,” Nathaniel says, his hands bouncing off the keyboard in frustration.

  “What can’t you do?”

  “This code. If I had Damien…” He shakes his head.
“Damien would have written it already.”

  “Is there anyone else who could do it?”

  “No, I’m just as good as anyone else. And I’d prefer not to have anyone else know what I’m doing.”

  “Makes sense.” I yawn. “You don’t think you should stop for the night, though? It’s four in the morning, Nate. It might write itself more easily if you had some rest.”

  He pushes his computer table away. “You’re right.”

  Thank you!

  I reposition myself against the end of the sofa, my nightgown splitting apart to show the silk chemise I bought during his absence. No way can I show him that surprise until I have his full attention. I’m partway through covering up when he says, “What are you wearing?”

  “Hm?”

  “Don’t move.” Nathaniel strides toward me. He shifts my hands and carefully unties the ribbon around my waist, letting the gown fall open to reveal a commando print chemise and sheer khaki fabric that just covers my cleavage. His finger runs down my collarbone and flicks the strap off my shoulder.

  My breath hitches as his hand travels down my breast and explores every curve.

  “Patience,” he whispers, running his hand down the silk and then rising beneath it, unclenching my legs effortlessly. His hand retreats and he leans in, his mouth hovering above mine. Impatient, I reach out and take hold of his shirt, pulling him closer. He staggers toward me, amused to be under my command. “Or not.”

  “Not.” I smile, leading him into a kiss that takes my breath away.

  His gaze shifts to mine as if I have become one of those few precious things—a watch, a tattooed name, angel wings. He bends down and skims his lips at the base of my throat, breathing in my scent as he kisses me slowly. His hands slide up and down my arms and I reach up and stroke the side of his face, admiring every aspect of him, the way his eyelids relax under my touch. His eyes drift open, and he eagerly takes my mouth with his. One kiss turns into many, my world dependent on that next touch of his tongue against mine.

  He cups my face. “Turn around.”

  He can’t mean…?

  A smile forms at the edge of his mouth. “Indulge me. Please.”

  I nod. A lot. The butterflies are back, beating their wings against my chest. I think I’m smiling and trembling even as I turn and face the three-seater.

  “First, run your hand over the leather,” he says, recalling his words perfectly.

  I gulp, then sink my fingers into the leather—it’s as soft as the silk covering my body, and pure luxury compared to the one at the pub.

  “Now grab the headrest.”

  Without hesitation, I grab hold of the headrest with both hands, gripping it tightly, looking down at my naked chest and the commando chemise below. Somehow the sight is more erotic than being naked. The second he touches my hips it’s like sparks pinging against my skin. His fingers spread apart and he tugs me back. His toes tap the inside of my heels, shifting my legs apart, and I slump forward a fraction. I’m stretched and bent between the three-seater and him. He hitches up my chemise, his fingers slipping into the seams of my panties and sliding them off smoothly.

  This is it…

  I’m almost panting with anticipation and nothing’s even begun. His hand brushes down my spine then swishes my hair to one side.

  “No, no, no,” he murmurs. “This is all wrong.”

  I freeze. Nathaniel releases me and I feel like I’m made of glass—empty, breakable, like I might shatter at any moment. “Nate. Maybe I should leave.”

  “Really? Why?” He turns me gently. “You think you’ve done something wrong?”

  “Maybe. A little.”

  He shakes his head. “Not a chance. But this setting, recreating our moment at the pub earlier, I think we’ve been there, done that.”

  “I suppose we have.” Except that I’m physically craving this man.

  “What if I told you I had another idea.”

  “I’m listening…”

  He cups my face. Our lips meet. My fingers slip through his hair. Our kisses deepen. I could honestly taste and touch him forever. He walks backwards, leading me behind his desk and towards a door I hadn’t noticed before. As he grips the door handle a little beep sounds, releasing a lock. The room is dark, but when we step inside dim lights switch on automatically. I can just make out the décor. It’s spacious, a bed dividing the back wall, its sheets gleaming faintly. A canvas hangs above it, but the image is in shadows.

  Adrenaline charges through me as Nathaniel lurches forward and I throw my legs around his hips. Our mouths smash together. Our kisses turn desperate as he strides towards the bed and we fall onto the sheets. His hands slide over my hips, bunching and smoothing the satin, as if he’s torn between his primal instincts and remaining a gentleman. Nathaniel draws me closer, his kisses accelerating into something possessive that has my body swaying against him. He slides the satin from my body, letting out a soft moan as his mouth skims my curves and moves lower. That’s when I realize where he’s headed. I seize up.

  Nathaniel peers up at me, his hand caressing my back. “Eve. You’re trembling. Why?”

  I shake my head, trying not to tear up. It’s hard to forget my experiences with Jeremy, and some were less than pleasurable. Now I have a gorgeous man who wants to make me blissfully happy and I’m rejecting him because I’m scared. He moves up my body, so we come face-to face. Relieved that he hasn’t pressed for an answer, it takes me a moment to place a kiss on his lips.

  He leans back to study me. “You are a mystery to me, Eve.”

  He’s the mystery. “I hope you like mysteries, then.”

  “Very much.”

  “Good.”

  Before I know it, we are slipping beneath the sheets and I have Nathaniel’s clothes off in less than a minute. The last item remaining is his boxers, but I take my time to explore the muscles of his arms and chest, committing the sculpture to memory. Nathaniel wriggles beside me for a moment, and I’m pretty sure the boxers are gone. His head falls beside mine, sharing the same pillow.

  “This is me trying to go slow,” he whispers.

  “Your promise at the park?”

  “It’s proving a challenge.”

  “I see.” My laugh is huskier than I’ve ever heard it. Ready or not, I’m so strung-up with desire that I can’t bring myself to relax.

  “Angel, what am I going to do with you?” The room might be shadowy, but there’s no missing his wry smile. His hand breezes down my right side, from throat to breasts to belly and hips. His weight shifts above mine. Feeling Nathaniel move inside me, my breath turns to whimpers of pleasure.

  Without warning, he pauses, his voice rough, “I need to see you.”

  I hold my breath, trying not to panic. Nate will see all of me, not just the surface, everything. But, honestly, I want nothing more than to watch him, too.

  Nathaniel’s shadow leans across me. A small lampshade blinks on beside the bed. His hair captures my attention first. It’s a golden sexy mess, concealing most of his face. I can’t help but stare at his arms—at the sleeves of ink I never imagined to be there, images of vines and branches morphing into machines that wrap over taunt forearms. Nathaniel naked is like viewing a moving art gallery with ropes of muscle underneath, his chest a display of black outlines and color: a spiral galaxy and the night sky blending with the Earth.

  One look in his eyes and our lips are joined and our bodies are keeping time. I reach back and grip the pillow hard. His fingers link tightly within mine, connecting me to him in another small way. Time slips. My vision blurs a fraction, then blackens. Lights spill across the blackness, the sensation of him inside me builds and rises to a high. Heat floods me, and I tremble around him in all the best possible ways.

  “Eve?” Nathaniel brings me back to the present, his hand caressing my shoulder. He rolls onto his back and wraps me against his chest. We lie there, bodies entwined, his forehead touching mine in such an intimate way that it’s as if nothing ex
ists outside of this room. “You are so beautiful to me, Evangeline. Do you know that?”

  I don’t quite have it in me to answer, and I think he can see that. It’s hard to trust such a compliment, but his eyes are telling me I should believe him. Part of me begins to believe that it’s true, and it’s what makes me reach up and link my arms around his neck, kissing him every way I know how. Nathaniel’s kiss intensifies as he guides me onto his lap. I peer down at his impressive body for the first time. This is not the time to go shy—he’s been inside me—but I’m actually nervous to explore him in the light.

  “Do what you want to me…” he murmurs.

  I eye him dubiously.

  A smirk appears at the corner of his lips as he settles back, waiting for me to make the first move.

  Savoring the moment, I wind my fingers through his hair and lean forward. His hips rock upwards, urging me to move. I don’t give in—it’s the first time I’ve really been in charge with anyone. I lick his mouth, his tongue, until he’s seeking my mouth with need. The kiss—I don’t know who’s in charge anymore. But as I move over him, I make damn sure he feels every part of me as I did him. A high inside of me builds until we are panting softly, until his hips are eagerly meeting mine and I’m breathing the word, “Nate,” over and over again.

  His eyes are half-hooded and drunk with lust. He reaches up to cup my face, but his hand slips away.

  “Don’t stop,” I breathe. “Do what you want to me.”

  “As you wish.” He smiles, then runs his hand along my throat. His gaze sweeps over me, taking in every detail, the shift of my hips, my breasts which are claimed by his mouth.

  Gripping his shoulders, I cry out. I am so close…

  He rolls me beneath him, and I whimper at the loss of contact.

  “Soon, I promise.” Leaning on his elbows, he positions himself above me. He begins a slow torturous speed that has my back arching from the mattress. He is panting hard, and it’s officially my favorite sound—low and breathy and out of control. I can’t help myself. I drag his mouth to mine, lost in his frantic rhythm. My body trembles, just as his is trembling against mine. Nathaniel’s eyes squeeze shut before they lock on mine. We are wrapped together as one, his breath a whisper as he says my name.