The Blackmailed Bride

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The Blackmailed Bride Page 14

by Kim Lawrence


  `I'm sorry if you don't like my clothes sense but I'm not about to be made over into some plastic bimbo clone!' she announced, planting her hands firmly on her hips as she glared belligerently across at him. `So you can cancel the hair appointments and the image consultant,' she told him quiveringly. `That wasn't part of the deal. You can't say you weren't warned-I told you I was poor value for money-but you went ahead and married me anyway. So if you're ashamed of me in front of your posh friends and family, too bad!'

  Her piece said Kate experienced a sudden and strong desire to burst into tears ...as if it mattered what he thought of her?

  Javier examined the antagonistic glitter in her eyes and let out a long, slow whistle. Sitting forward in his chair he placed his glass on the gleaming surface of an antique metal banded oak chest beside him.

  `I knew you couldn't bring luggage with you without causing comment, so it seemed sensible to arrange for some clothes in your sizes brought here,' he told her quietly. `I merely asked for them to be classic, simple and understated, like the things I have seen you wear,' he revealed with what seemed genuine admiration.

  `Oh!' Looking down at her crumpled linen shift Kate could only wonder at his taste.

  `If I'd wanted to play Svengali,' he added drily, `I would not have chosen you as a subject; you are probably the least malleable person I have ever known. It is true however that we will attend functions where people will be expensively dressed. You may wear chain-store clothes if that is what you wish.' His broad shoulders lifted in a negligent shrug. 'But I did think you might find it less of an ordeal if you blended in. I see no reason for you to suffer financially to that end.' Having shot down in flames just about every

  `Ah, yes, the independent career woman.'

  Kate spun around angrily. `Don't you dare patronise me ... or...'

  'if you're going to threaten, Kate,' he advised her smoothly, `it's always more effective if you decide before­hand with what or how you're going to intimidate your victim. With married people I believe the withdrawal of your sexual favours is a popular method. Of course,' he mused silkily, `you have to grant them first...'

  Was the hint of a question in his voice or a figment of her fertile and overheated imagination? The remotest pos­sibility that he was actually suggesting they consummate their union had her heart beating like a drum.

  She sharply veered her thoughts from the dangerous di­rection they were taking. 'I'm just saying...' Damned if I know what I was saying! She exhaled and started again. `It would just have been nice to be consulted. I might have felt less...'

  `Less what?'

  Her hand went to the base of her throat as their eyes met, she could feel the heavy throb of a pulse there. `Manipu­lated,' she ground out.

  `Is that how I make you feel?'

  Out of control, sexually depraved…needy.... The list went on and on!

  She shrugged and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. `Forget it; I was just shocked to wake up and find myself here.'

  She hadn't been shocked at first, he recalled; that had come a few moments later when the wary light in her eyes had resurfaced.

  In those very first moments after he'd gently shaken her awake there had been no concealing caution, her velvety eyes had been filled with sleepy, sensual invitation that had taken his breath clear away. In that brief, unguarded mo­ment she'd looked up at him, all softness and warmth, glowing as if lit from within.

  The recollection of it made his body respond as it had done at the time, when all he'd wanted to do was pull her beneath hint and kiss her senseless in a prelude to removing every stitch of clothing from her delicious soft body, then he'd taste every inch of that too. He wouldn't allow himself to satisfy his hunger completely, though not until she was begging him to.. .drawing out the pleasure until it hurt.

  When she had reached out and touched his cheek, her fingertips light and delicate as they ran over the stubble on his jaw. Javier had been forced to reassess the timescale of his plans. Javier understood the power of sex, but the hun­ger that gripped him at that moment was more urgent than any he could recall.

  A small pucker had appeared between her feathery brows as her hand fell away. `You're not a dream,' she breathed in the moment before she realised where she was, and who he was.

  Javier, not it man given to wishing, was left wishing hard that he was the man she had taken him for. A man whose existence he discovered he deeply resented.

  Kate stepped backwards as Javier suddenly levered him­self up from the chair in one lithe, fluid motion. She watched as he began to move around the room, his whole manner radiating restless energy... Perhaps he was feeling the confines of this paper marriage already?

  Perhaps regret was responsible for the brooding expres­sion on his face she speculated as she watched him push open the double doors that led out onto a flower-decked wrought-iron balcony. As he turned back to face her, Kate's breath caught; standing there with the light breeze ruffling the smooth glossy outline of his dark hair, drawing the fabric of his shirt tightly over his torso, he made a simply magnificent figure.

  The frown line deepened above his classical nose as his eyes skimmed her motionless figure. `I thought you would welcome an opportunity to... adjust to our ... arrangements before you face your family.' A wry expression drifted across his face. `I know I do. Surely you didn't think we'd be going back there tonight? That you would be sharing a room with your sister?

  'Well, actually, I was so busy wondering how I was go­ing to get through the wedding itself,' she revealed ingen­uously, `that I hadn't thought as far as the honeymoon.'

  In fact, Kate, you haven't thought much at all! With a sigh she slumped despondently into a tapestry-covered easy chair.

  `Have I said something funny...?' she asked as he smiled one of those lop-sided numbers that she found not only wildly attractive but impossible to interpret. `I'm not speak­ing honeymoon in the literal sense, of course,' she hastily clarified.

  `You know it will do my over-inflated ego a power of good to be in your company...' If he hadn't had to fend off some determined candidates, Javier might have been forced to reconsider the widely held belief amongst his en­vious contemporaries that there were any number of women who might not consider marriage to him was something to be endured!

  `Have you any idea how long we might have to...' `Cohabit?

  'I was going to say pretend to be married,' she corrected tartly-cohabit had an uncomfortably intimate sound to it. `We are married and I have the papers to prove it.' 'Not properly!' she countered crossly. `I had noticed.'

  Kate took the gutless route and acted as if she was obliv­ious to the challenge in his eyes. `This is a very nice hotel,' she observed, sweeping past him onto the balcony which looked out onto a sunny courtyard and the mountains be­yond. Hands on the wrought-iron scroll work, she leaned over to get a better look at the fountain beneath. The only sound was the trickle of the water and the distant hum of bees going about their business; it was a lazy, relaxing sound.

  `When we were trawling through the holiday brochures, I wanted to stay here, but I was overruled.' Eyes closed, she lifted her face to the sun.

  It didn't take a genius to figure out by whom; as far as Javier could see the little sister with her charming manner and shallow smile seemed to get exactly what she wanted. Worse still, Kate seemed to be quite resigned to taking second place. As far as he was concerned, if there was ever a woman who ought to take first place it was Katherine M. Anderson.

  Kate didn't realise that he'd followed her until she felt his breath against her neck.

  'Coward...' he whispered softly.

  Kate started so violently that for a moment she lost her balance and tipped too far forwards until only her toes were still on terra firma.

  `Por Dios!' Javier cried harshly as he hauled her bodily back from the balustrade. He turned her roughly around to face him.

  The hand he planted in the small of her back brought her hard up against his body;
the one twisted into her hair tilted her face up to his. Every point of contact between them was an exquisite kind of torture as her receptive nerve­ endings came to life. As far as Kate was concerned, collid­ing head-on with his blazing blue eyes was a far more ter­rifying experience than nearly falling fifty feet onto cobbles.

  Held this close, she was aware not only of his amazing strength, but the waves of fury vibrating through his lean,hard body too. In his heightened emotional state he uncon­sciously slipped back into his mother tongue. Kate stood there in a blank condition of shock while a hot tide of furious Spanish washed over her.

  His perfect mouth twisted. `Are you trying to kill your­self?' he demanded thickly, apparently unaware that she hadn't understood a word of his tirade to that point.

  `Why, are you offering to do it for me?'

  She saw straight off-it was hard not to!-that her de­fensive flippancy had not gone down well. Javier drew a sharp breath that made his muscled torso strain hard against the fabric of his shirt.

  `Do not tempt me!' The irony of this advice brought a self derisive twist to his lips... Temptation. His eyes moved hungrily over her face. He had always prided himself on his self-control but her mere presence was temptation.

  The crackling sexual tension between them was suddenly like a physical presence in the room. Without warning, Kate's legs turned to rubber; if he released her now she'd certainly slide gracelessly to the floor, but he showed no sign of releasing her. If anything, his grip tightened. She felt as though an invisible hand was inside her chest, squeezing her heart; the pressure made it hard to breathe.

  `It was your fault,' she contended belligerently. `You shouldn't have crept up on me like that.'

  Javier's nostrils flared as he inhaled sharply. `You are the most infuriating woman!' he exploded, lowering his dark face down towards hers.

  His burning glance dropped to her mouth and stayed there. The fingers in her hair tightened as his rapid respi­rations grew slower and slower ... until he didn't seem to be breathing at all.

  She ran her tongue nervously over her dry lips and a shocking groan of pain was wrenched from Javier's throat.

  `S...sorry.' Without being precisely aware of how, Kate knew that she was in some way responsible for his apparent agony.

  It was her turn to moan when he suddenly touched his thumb to her mouth and slowly traced the still moist outline of her tender lips. Kate shivered as hot desire drenched her like a cloud burst.

  `Please...' she whispered brokenly just before his mouth came crashing down on hers.

  Kate opened her mouth, wanting the taste of him in her mouth, wanting to feel his hard, vital body against hers, in fact just wanting him! There was an element of desperation and driving urgency in his whisky-flavoured kiss that ex­cited her beyond bearing.

  She twisted her fingers deep into the dark hair on his nape, drawing herself upwards so that her hips were sealed to his, so that her heavy aching breasts were flattened against his chest, so that his hard arousal ground into her belly.

  Eyes squeezed shut, she moved restlessly as his lips moved in her hair, over her eyelids, her neck, across her collar bone, before he returned his attention to her mouth. He kissed her as though he would drain her.

  When he finally drew back, `You are so beautiful,' she gasped reverently as she began to press her lips to the brown column of his neck. Her fingers plucked feverishly at the buttons of his shirt. It was a clumsy hit-and-miss process, her hands were shaking so hard, but even so in a matte of seconds them- was a gap big enough for her to slide her fingers through. She gave a sigh of relief as her flattened palms slid across his skin; it was satiny and firm, just the way she had imagined it, only better!

  She bent her head and pressed her lips to the exposed area of firm, golden flesh.

  There were feverish streaks of dull colour across his cheekbones and his smile was fierce and predatory as he urgently took her face between his two hands and looked with a rapt expression deep into her passion glazed eyes. 'I want you,' he gritted.

  'Then what are you waiting for?' she sobbed. `A written invitation? Touch me!'

  'Where?'

  'Anywhere... everywhere... !'

  A smile of male triumph spread over his taut features. 'Like this...?' His hands left a trail of white heat as they moved over her skin.

  `Exactly like that,' she sighed voluptuously. Eyes closed, lips parted, Kate's head fell back; the intensity of the feel­ings coursing through her was like wild white fire in her veins.

  His eyes didn't leave her aroused face as he slid the long zip of her dress all the way down. Kate's eyelids lifted as she felt the fabric slip over her shoulders. Gathering mo­mentum, the fabric pooled around her feet. Beneath it she wore a lacy bra and pants.

  `My arm...' she began, revealing a vulnerability she didn't even admit to herself. Of course he'd say the scars were irrelevant, they were part of her, but deep down did his stomach tighten with disgust...?

  `Don't worry,' he soothed with a smouldering smile. `I will get around to your little scars, too. I intend to kiss every inch of you...' he elaborated, in reply to her confused expression. Kate shivered as erotic images flashed across her consciousness. His dark head poised above her quiv­ering body, her pink engorged nipples disappearing into his mouth...

  He drew a light line between her straining breasts with the tip of his finger.

  `I like a man with ambitious goals.'

  Her shivers became full-blown febrile shudders when he dropped down onto his knees before her.

  Kate stood there gazing in disbelief at the top of his dark head as he licked his way across the soft curve of her stom­ach; muscles she didn't know she had started quivering. The softness inside her grew more aggressive, more de­manding, as his caresses drove her to the edge of reason for the first time in her life.

  When he wrenched down the stretchy lace that sheathed her breasts so that the soft, warm, coral-tipped mounds of flesh spilled out, Kate gave an aching needy cry as his big hands curved greedily over the quivering peaks, drawing them into his mouth.

  At first, neither of them noticed the ringing of the phone above their own needy murmurs. When they did, by un­spoken mutual agreement they ignored it, but finally the constant shrill chime just couldn't be ignored.

  Javier swore in his native tongue and ran a frustrated hand over his sweat slick forehead. His shirt hung open to the waist, exposing his finely muscled torso.

  `I will be back,' he promised, levering himself upright.

  Believing that was the only thing that made the brief separation bearable for Kate, who sank weakly down to her knees.

  `If you don't, I'll come after you,' she promised, watch­ing him cross the room, taking incredible pleasure from something as simple as the way he moved, the sheer animal grace of his stride, the delicious quiver of finely toned mus­cle beneath firm flesh... The combination sent a stab of intense sexual longing through her aching body.

  Seeing the grim expression on his dark, hard-edged fea­tures as he lifted the phone to his ear, Kate felt a fleeting sympathy for the person the other end of the line-only fleeting, she was too conscious of the empty ache inside her to empathise for long with the person responsible for this untimely interruption.

  Even though the conversation was conducted totally in Spanish Javier hadn't been speaking for long before she knew that something was wrong-seriously wrong.

  By the time he put the phone down Kate was seated on the edge of the sofa, her hands folded primly in her lap. As he approached she was glad she'd haphazardly pulled on her clothes. She knew her instincts had been right; the window of opportunity had passed her by. Javier wasn't about to become her lover.

  `My grandfather has died.' He sounded chillingly matter­of-fact.

  Kate gasped. `But I thought he had...'

  `It wasn't the cancer,' he interposed swiftly. `His plane crashed. Somewhat ironic?

  'I'm so sorry, Javier.' If anything, her sympathy seemed to make him
retreat farther from her. Looking at his remote profile, it was hard to believe that this was the same warm, passionate man who only moments before had introduced her to a sensual world she hadn't even known existed. It looked as if he wouldn't be taking her there any time soon ...if ever!

  Maybe ignorance wasn't such a bad thing. At least then she wouldn't have any idea what she was missing. `I'm needed.'

  `Of course you are.' But who do you need her heart cried, as she he stood there self-contained and in control. Who comforts you?

  `The private jet, the other private jet,' he corrected him­self with a display of dark irony. `Is coming to pick me up. I'll be leaving first thing in the morning.'

  Kate's normally sharp brain was slow to make the con­nections... I am leaving, not we are leaving, but of course everything had changed he no longer had any reason to pretend.

  And that leaves me where...? Redundant, no longer needed. He doesn't need a wife now; he doesn't need me. An image of his strong face driven by desire materialised in her head; his need had not been in question at that mo­ment!

  `You must be pretty gutted that you married me. If only you'd waited a day longer...'

  His mouth twisted. `One of life's little ironies,' he agreed unsmilingly.

  `Why did you marry me, Javier? Serge said there was no way your grandfather would have disinherited you...'

  `That's true,' he conceded. `I pretended to take his threats seriously; it required very little effort on my part. Playing the heartless despot was one his pleasures in life.'

  His expression as he spoke of his grandfather brought tears to her eyes. `Then why...?

  'I wanted to make his last days happy ones,' he explained simply.

  `So what happens now ...to me...?'

  A deep silence grew around her hasty question-one that Javier showed no inclination to break. The longer it lasted, the more deeply embarrassed Kate felt. He's just learnt his grandfather has died and all I'm bothered about is where it leaves me-how selfish does that sound, Kate...?

  `I know you've got a lot of other things to think about, but I was just wondering...'

 

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