by Miranda Lee
She simply had to change things back to just sex.
The trouble was, the moment she sank boldly to her knees in front of him, she was overcome with such feeling for him, such... caring... that she lost the plot. Before she knew it she was making love to him with her mouth and her hands with a passion and a commitment that could only come from a woman in love. She prayed for him to stop her, but he didn’t, and in the end she couldn’t.
Afterwards, he gave her another glass of champagne and looked at her with thoughtful eyes.
‘You always were good at that,’ he murmured. ‘But you’re even better now.’
‘So are you,’ she returned, desperate to cling to the illusion that it was still only lust directing her actions.
‘Is that a compliment, or a request? No matter,’ he laughed, and scooped her up into his arms. ‘Either will get you what you want,’ he said, and carried her back to bed.
She tried to hold herself distant from him. But how could she when he started kissing her all over again with such thoroughness? Her mouth, her neck, her breasts, her stomach. By the time he moved beyond her stomach she moaned her total surrender and let her legs fall wantonly apart.
He started doing what he’d done on his father’s dining room table, his large strong hands holding her firmly captive so that she was powerless to twist away from the devastating forays of his wickedly knowing tongue. It tormented her for ages, flicking lightly over electrified nerve-endings before sliding slowly inside, then all too swiftly withdrawing to start the teasing process all over again. When she actually began to beg, he lifted her bottom higher and drove his tongue deep, finding a spot which brought a scream to her throat.
Her back arched violently from the bed, then stayed that way as she came and came and came.
Finally, the terrifyingly endless contractions did end, and he let her go.
With a death-rattling sigh, her spine gradually unkinked and sank back down onto the bed, her arms flopping wide. Her eyelids felt so heavy she was sure any second she would fall asleep.
Philip sat up between her leaden thighs, his eyes glittering with dark triumph as he stared down at her spreadeagled body. ‘I love you like this,’ he muttered. ‘You haven’t the energy to stop me doing whatever I want.’ Leaning forward, he slid his hands under her bottom again, and eased her forward, up onto his lap and onto him.
Her groan of protest was laughingly ignored.
‘See what I mean?’ he mocked, his hands reaching down to play with her breasts. He plucked at their still erect nipples and she groaned in protest again, this time not at all convincingly.
His eyes flashed almost angrily at the sound. ‘Time to tell you the score, my sweetly insatiable Fiona,’ he growled as he began to move slowly within her. ‘First, you’re not going to have any other men-friends from now on except me. I’m going to be your only lover. Yes, the one and only,’ he repeated as his rhythm quickened. ‘You’ll come out with me when I want you to; stay the night with me when I want you to; do what I want you to. Do I make myself clear?’
Fiona wanted to tell him to go to hell. But she could not seem to find the words, or the will. Oh, she was weak where he was concerned! Horribly, horribly weak.
‘Do...I...make...myself...clear?’ he repeated, his thrusting becoming almost manic, his face contorting.
‘Yes,’ she cried out as her body began to betray her one more time. ‘Yes!’
You’ve made yourself very clear.
Very, very clear.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
FIONA found some character in the morning, as well as a strong surge of anger. Mostly directed at herself. How could she have let Philip treat her so disgracefully, as if she was some kind of sex toy!
It was immaterial that she’d woken feeling physically fantastic, with clear eyes, glowing skin and not a trace of a hangover. Sexual ecstasy was no excuse for the disgusting way she’d behaved!
As for falling in love with Philip again...
That was her most unforgivable sin of all!
She would not entertain the thought of it. Neither would she put up with that ridiculous love-slave relationship Philip had made her agree to when she’d been incapable of thinking straight, let alone telling him where he could stick his typically male ego-driven demands.
The man must be insane to think that any intelligent, independent woman would put up with such a masochistic and one-sided relationship! She hadn’t become the person she was today to revert to the sort of be-haviour that that silly ninny named Noni had indulged in! Good grief. The very idea!
Once Fiona was showered and dressed, with her hair brushed, her jacket on and two good strong cups of coffee inside her, she earned a cup into a still sleeping Philip and sat down on the bed.
Her eyes were firm when they moved to Philip, but the moment she made eye contact with his sleeping form Fiona wavered again. Oh, God. He looked so beautiful and sexy lying there, with his long eyelashes resting on his tanned cheek and his lovely mouth softly parted in sleep. She groaned as her gaze travelled slowly over his naked body—what there was of it on display, that was—and she thought of the intense pleasure that body could bring her.
Was she prepared to risk losing that pleasure for the sake of pride?
Her spine straightened, her chin lifting proudly. Yes, she told herself. Her answer had to be yes!
Of course, it was incredibly easy to come to that valiant resolve with Philip unconscious. A bit like walking into a lion’s cage when the lion was drugged, or dead, then bragging afterwards of one’s bravery.
Not much of a challenge, that.
What if, when she awakened Philip, he grabbed her and dragged her into bed with him? What if he wouldn’t take her no for an answer and proceeded to coerce and corrupt her with more fantastic sex till she begged him to use her any way he wanted, as often as he wanted?
The possibility appalled her.
Jumping up from the bed, she swiftly plonked the dangerously rattling cup and saucer on the bedside table and was about to flee when Philip stirred, yawned and rolled over, the blue satin sheet shifting to a level around his hips just short of indecent.
Before Fiona could do more than blink, two beautiful blue eyes popped open and looked straight up into hers.
They flicked over her, frowning.
Their owner immediately sat bolt-upright, the sheet slipping down to his thighs.
‘Fiona?’
‘Yes?’ she choked out, feeling decidedly flustered as she forcibly dragged her eyes back up to his face.
He glanced at his watch and frowned some more. ‘It’s seven in the morning. Why are you up and dressed?’
Fiona pulled herself together. ‘It’s Monday. I have to go home and change, then go to work.’
‘But I’m on holiday for the next week. I was hoping you might have some time off and spend it with me.’
Oh, God, she thought. A whole week of the same as last night. Seven days and seven nights.
‘Then you thought wrong, Philip,’ she said coolly, even while her face felt hot.
‘But you’re your own boss, aren’t you?’
‘Yes,’ she said meaningfully. ‘I am.’
He ignored that one. ‘Is this for me?’ he asked, picking up the coffee cup.
‘Yes.’
‘Thanks.’ He took a couple of sips. ‘It’s perfect,’ he complimented warmly. ‘Just the way I like it.’
‘I know.’
He smiled up at her. ‘You know everything I like, don’t you?’
She wanted to slap his beautifully arrogant face.
‘Philip,’ she said sternly.
‘Yes, darling?’
Oh, that was low, she thought mutinously. And downright sarcastic.
‘We have to talk about last night.’
‘What about it?’
‘What I agreed to...’
‘Yes?’
‘I misled you, I’m afraid.’
The cup stilled halfway to his mouth. H
e lowered it very, very slowly and gave her a long, terrifyingly hard look. ‘In what way?’ he finally asked.
She swallowed. ‘The thing is, Philip, I want more from a relationship than just sex.’
His eyebrows shot upwards, as though she’d genuinely surprised him. ‘Really?’
‘Yes, really. I won’t play sex-slave for any man, not even you.’
‘You did a pretty good job last night.’
‘I indulged you, because I knew you were hurting.’
‘Indulged me?’
‘Yes.’
He laughed. ‘You indulged yourself, Fiona. You loved every minute of it.’
Fiona could not deny he’d given her great pleasure.
‘I know exactly what you want from a relationship with a man, sweetheart,’ he went on, his tone mocking and cynical. ‘And that’s what I gave you last night. I’m also well aware your men-friends have a use-by date, but I wouldn’t have thought mine had run out just yet. I gather from Owen your lovers last a little longer than one night.’
Fiona was truly taken aback. Owen? What had Owen been telling Philip about her and her lovers?
She might have said something, but was distracted by Philip throwing back the sheet and climbing from the bed.
‘I can see, however,’ he stated as he strutted towards her, stark naked, ‘that you do have your priorities. Work still comes first, if you’ll pardon the pun. So!’ He chucked her under the chin, shutting her startled mouth in time for a swift peck on the lips. ‘How about after work tonight? We could go out to dinner somewhere. Then you can have me for afters,’ he added, with the sort of smile which would have seduced a nun.
She would have had him then and there, if she hadn’t been so spitting mad!
‘What did Owen say to you about me?’ she persisted heatedly.
‘Nothing but the truth, so don’t go getting all hot under the collar. Look, it suits me very well that you don’t want to get married or have children. I’ve given up on both those fronts. Frankly, I don’t seem to be too lucky in the love and marriage arena.’
Fiona didn’t know whether to scream, or to cry. She felt simultaneously angry and despairing.
‘For pity’s sake, don’t make a fuss when you get to work,’ Philip said wearily. ‘Poor Owen only thought he was doing the right thing, warning me of your love ’em and leave ‘em nature. He couldn’t possibly have anticipated that what you offer a man is exactly what I’m looking for at this moment, to get over Corinne. So calm down and stop acting like a self-righteous little hypocrite.’
Fiona found some comfort in fury. ‘You ought to talk,’ she snapped. ‘You told me you didn’t fancy me. You said I was too skinny, for one thing.’
‘I lied.’
She just stared at him, and he shrugged.
‘The truth is I’ve been lying ever since you walked into my life again. I should never have gone through with that sham of a marriage to Corinne. She was right when she said I didn’t truly love her. How could I have, when all I could think of was you?’
Fiona stared up at him, hope bursting into flower in her heart. What was he saying? That he was in love with her? It didn’t seem possible, but surely this couldn’t be just lust looking back down at her with such hot passion in his eyes. Surely not.
Her heart lurched, then flipped right over. ‘Philip,’ she groaned aloud, and those blazing blue eyes suddenly went cold.
‘You don’t have to worry, darling,’ he said with a sardonic smile, crushing that flower of hope as surely as if he’d slipped it under his foot and stomped on it. ‘I’m not about to declare my undying devotion. I’m merely stating that a man truly in love with one woman doesn’t spend all his waking hours wanting to have sex with another. And believe me, I’ve wanted to have sex with you these past ten weeks like there was no tomorrow. Old flames perhaps. But damned stubborn ones. From your responses last night, I suspect you’ve been suffering from the same old smoulder. But we’re on the way to a cure now, aren’t we? In six months or so, with a bit of luck, we’ll have burnt out the fires once and for all. Meanwhile, at least I’ll be able to get a good night’s sleep. So, what time do you want me to pick you up tonight?’
Fiona could barely function under the weight of her despair. ‘What?’
‘Tonight. Do you want me to pick you up from work or at your place? I thought I’d go spend the day with my mother, since I haven’t anything else to do, and I think the old dear might be wanting some company after last night’s fiasco.’
‘But... but I have to come out there this afternoon myself,’ she protested. ‘I have to see that everything has been cleared away properly.’
‘Perfect. I’ll see you out there, then.’
Fiona could think of nothing worse! ‘But...but...’
‘Fiona, darling, what is it?’ he said, taking her into his arms and giving her an almost concerned look. ‘Have I upset you in some way? Look, of course there’ll be more to our relationship than just sex. We’ll go out together. We’ll spend time together. We’ll even talk sometimes. We just won’t make plans for a future together. There’s no point, is there?’
‘I... I guess not.’ Not unless he loved her.
‘Good. We’ve got that settled, then.’
‘But...’
‘Now what time will you be at Kenthurst?’
‘Around two.’
‘Two it is, then.’
‘But what about your mother?’ she finally managed to blurt out.
‘What about her?’
‘I don’t want her to know about...about us!’
‘Why not?’
‘Because...because I like her and she likes me and I...I wouldn’t want her to look at me like she’s ashamed of me or something.’
Philip just stared at her. ‘You mean you care about what she thinks of you?’
‘Yes. Yes, I do.’
‘I see. Surprising. Well, all right, I won’t tell her about us. I probably wasn’t going to, anyway. I’ll see you around two, then.’ And, with a parting peck, he turned and walked into the bathroom.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
‘HOW dare you say such things to Philip about me?’ Fiona ranted and raved to Owen as she thumped his desk with angry fists. ‘You had no right. It was unforgivable. In fact, I will never forgive you!’
Oh-oh, Owen thought sheepishly. She’s found out I gave Philip a resume of her recent love life.
But how? he puzzled. Why? When?
She certainly hadn’t known anything last evening, when he’d spoken to her on her mobile, halfway through the reception.
She’d sounded very calm, if a little subdued, as she’d told him that the ceremony had gone off very well and the reception was proceeding smoothly. What on earth had happened between Fiona and the groom after that?
Still, given the intensity of her rage, Owen thought it wise to try the low-level approach of enquiry. ‘Er... I’m not sure I know what you’re referring to, Fiona,’ he tried.
‘Oh, yes, you do, you selfish, conniving, manipulative bastard! You were worried something might spring up again between Philip and myself and spoil your chance to have your name on a fancy society wedding, so you told him I was some kind of good-time girl who slept around and had absolutely no interest in marriage and children.’
‘I never said you slept around!’ Owen protested. ‘I merely pointed out that your admirers didn’t have a good track record of going the long haul with you. As for your attitude to marriage and children, you hardly made that a secret, Fiona.’
‘You have no idea what you’ve done!’ she wailed.
‘No. I have to admit I don’t. What does it really matter what I said, now that the groom is safely married and off on his honeymoon? You’ll never see him again.’
There was something about the way she groaned which alarmed Owen.
‘What is there here that I don’t know?’ he said worriedly.
When Fiona slumped in a chair in front of his desk and buried her face in
her hands, Owen began to panic.
‘Fiona! I demand you tell me what’s going on!’
Fiona’s face burst out of her hands and she looked quite manic, with her brown eyes very big in her pale face. ‘You want to know what’s going on? I’ll tell you what’s going on—although what’s gone on is infinitely more titillating!’
Titillating?
Owen didn’t know whether to be intrigued or unnerved.
Fiona jumped to her feet again and began to pace agitatedly around the room. ‘Where shall I start?’ She tossed the words with patently false flippancy. ‘The moment the mother of the groom discovered that her new daughter-in-law was in love with the bridesmaid, and not her son?’
Owen gaped.
‘Or should I go back to Philip’s first wedding day? To me! The day I lost his baby, then gave him up because I was told I wasn’t good enough for him and I couldn’t bear the thought that he would one day look at me and hate me, even though I loved him more than life itself!’
Now Owen grimaced, his sympathetic heart squeezing tight. Oh, the poor darling...
‘No, that sounds far too melodramatic,’ Fiona swept on. ‘Not to mention dead and gone. So I shall move on to Philip asking me to pretend to be Corinne last night, after Corinne and Carmel drove off together. Just to fool the guests, mind. He didn’t want anyone to know that his bride preferred the bridesmaid to him. Which was understandable, I thought, and why I agreed. As well as to protect our wonderful business, of course!’ she threw at Owen with a savage glance.
‘Good thinking,’ Owen praised, trying to make light in the face of whatever coming disaster Fiona was about to recount.
‘Only then darling Philip wanted me to pretend to be Corinne in a more personal way, didn’t he? And I—silly, weak fool that I am—couldn’t say no. So we spent the night together and now I’ve fallen in love with him again, only this time he doesn’t love me at all! He thinks I’m just good for sex and he can use me till he gets over his broken heart, or bruised ego, or whatever he’s feeling at the moment. And what really kills me, Owen, what I just can’t handle in the cold light of day, is that I’m going to let him!’