by Anna Cleary
He kept nodding and looking very grave, asking her things about Lise when she’d been well and strong, as if she was still a person worth discussing. Strange as it might seem, it was a relief to talk about her mother as a woman who’d lived and loved and achieved things. It was as though Guy understood about losing someone.
Strolling along moonlit streets after an evening replete with fine food, wine and more than a few laughs made conversation the safest option. And strangely, even after her ordeal earlier in the evening—or maybe because of it—it didn’t feel so weird to share things with him.
One good thing a fling achieved was to break the ice, she reflected. Especially a failed fling. There was no point holding back on the family skeletons when people already knew the worst about each other.
‘Coming home to nurse your mother was a great thing to do,’ he said. ‘But what about your career? When will you take that up again?’
She dropped her gaze. ‘Well … That’s pretty well over now. My place in the company has been given away long since.’ She made a rueful grimace. ‘Lucky I’ve got the shop. Now I’m a businesswoman. At least being so bright green I fit in with the stock.’
She laughed, and he smiled along with her, though soon she noticed him frowning to himself.
‘What about you?’ she said, eager to shrug off the subject of the shop for once. ‘Where are your parents?’
He made a laconic face. ‘Around. Last I heard they were in Antarctica.’
She glanced at him in surprise. ‘Don’t you keep in touch?’
‘Not very often.’ He shrugged. ‘They’re scientists. They do vaguely know they’ve got a son somewhere, I think.’
She chuckled. ‘So they do remember?’
‘Mostly. But their focus is saving the planet.’ He flashed her an ironic grin. ‘You can hardly blame them. There are far more fascinating specimens than this.’ He spread his arms to indicate himself.
She wasn’t so sure of that. He had her full attention.
She gazed at him in disbelief. ‘How long has this gone on?’
‘Always. I guess you’d say my grandfather had the pleasure of raising me while they gadded about the globe.’
‘Oh, no!’ she exclaimed, not sure whether or not his amused description concealed resentment. ‘Aren’t you angry with them?’
He shook his head. ‘Not really. It probably seemed sensible not to keep dragging me out of school. My grandfather was a great old guy.’ He smiled in recollection. ‘Always had something to laugh about.’
‘Oh.’ She lifted her brows. ‘So … your grandfather … is he …?’
He nodded. ‘Yep. Couple of years ago, now. That’s partly why I find myself holed up in Jean’s flat. Not solely to annoy Amber O’Neill and keep her awake.’ The moonlight picked up the silvery gleam in his eyes. ‘My grandfather left me his house and I’ve been renovating it. I’ve done a lot of it myself, but now it’s at that tricky stage where you have to call in the professionals.’
Maybe she was at a tricky stage.
The evening air felt unusually warm, almost languorous on her skin. Other couples might have been tempted to take advantage of the occasional shadowy niches between garden walls to indulge in a sexy clinch.
But not her and Guy. She sensed his desire, though. Every lingering glance from his darkened eyes burned. And every longing nerve cell told her he was as alive to the conditions as she was herself. If he once touched her …
She walked carefully, so as not to brush his sleeve with her hand. ‘I’m sorry about your grandfather. Do you miss him?’
He nodded. ‘I guess. I think of him often. Things he said.’ He smiled at her. ‘What about you?’ His brows edged together. ‘I can’t get over what a sacrifice you’ve made, leaving your career like that.’
She wanted to cover her ears. He shouldn’t be sympathising with her, tugging at her old desires like that. Heaven knew, she was weak enough to give in to self-pity over the way her life had turned out without being given more encouragement.
‘Look,’ she said firmly, ‘it’s not as noble as it sounds. I never intended to totally abandon it. That was just how it turned out. Gradually, over time. I took leave from the company in pieces—whenever there was a crisis. A few weeks here, a few there. I always expected Mum to get well. In the end I realised I was causing the company problems, so I resigned.’
‘But surely they’d take you back? Surely?’
She looked hesitantly at him. All her doubts and anxieties crowded into her mind. Would she even be up to it now? Eighteen months was a long time to go without full daily rehearsal. ‘But I have the shop now. I’m fine.’
He didn’t look convinced. Kept searching her face, frowning. ‘Where’s your old man in all this?’
‘Nowhere.’ She grimaced. ‘He left us when I was a kid. Flew to LA for a business conference, never to be seen or heard from again.’
He glanced sharply at her. ‘Is that right? Never again? Didn’t he ever contact your mother?’
‘I suppose he must have, because they did divorce finally. I guess I didn’t really know all that went on between them. Just the days Mum looked weepy and upset.’
‘Life’s hard, isn’t it?’ He walked in silence for a while, frowning. Then said quietly, ‘She must have been devastated.’
‘Oh, she was. After a while, though, she kept saying it was for the best. He was never going to grow up.’
That silence lasted for minutes. She couldn’t help thinking how amazing it was to be talking to Guy like this. Maybe she should give herself a good pinch. Her feelings about him over the last couple of days had been so negative.
While tonight he seemed so accessible. Gorgeous. Though initially the other night he’d been warm, too. And gorgeous before the sex. Was she being a fool? Being sucked in again by easy charm and that pulse that kept drawing her to him like an electromagnet?
They were in the street that led to the arcade when he asked, ‘Do you think if he’d asked to come back she’d have given him another chance?’
She looked quickly at him. Where had that come from? But she couldn’t read his eyes. ‘I doubt it. I saw how hurt she was. How—shattered. Humiliated in every sense. Once your illusions have been destroyed …’
‘Yeah.’ There was heartfelt agreement in that single low syllable.
He didn’t speak again until they were in the lift, where vibrations between them seemed to intensify.
‘How about you, Amber?’ Though his voice sounded casual, the darkened eyes on her face were intent. ‘Would you have given him a second chance?’
Her heart skidded. The subtext was clear now. He was talking about her and him. Would she give him another chance? Another chance to make love to her.
She knew what her body yearned for her to say. The temptation to touch him was extreme. But pride, self-esteem or whatever else forced her to hold her nerve.
‘I’d have needed to be convinced, Guy.’
A muscle twitched in his cheek. ‘What would you expect? A preview?’
‘A reasonable explanation would be a start.’
Frowning, he dragged a hand through his hair. The air tautened with suspense, with an almost tangible sense of his reluctance. Each time his darkened gaze clashed with hers the intensity in his glance dragged at her breasts and turned her insides to liquid.
When they reached her door she paused, hoping against hope he would say something. Anything to revive her illusions.
‘Well …’ Her voice was husky with night fever. ‘That was a lovely dinner. Thank you. It was good to—talk.’
He remained silent, his mouth compressed to a firm straight line.
She added, ‘I feel as if we understand each other a bit better.’
His jaw set hard.
‘Which is good, if we’re to work together.’
There was nothing more to say, so she turned to unlock her door.
‘Amber.’
His deep voice interrupted her as she inser
ted her key. She faced him again.
‘I …’ He lifted his arms from his sides and let them fall again. ‘I haven’t taken a woman out in a while.’ Unwilling at the start, the words finished in a rush.
Her ears pricked up, her heart tensing with thrilled anticipation. ‘Really?’
‘No.’
She waited for more, but he didn’t add anything. Just stood looking like a rock that had reluctantly squeezed out a precious drop of its lifeblood.
She lifted her brows. ‘Is that it?’
He drew an exasperated breath. ‘Look, I don’t talk about all that relationship palaver. It’s just that you might as well know I had a—’ He swung away to evade her eyes. ‘A break-up, I suppose you’d call it, with a woman a while back, and I’ve probably been avoiding all the—stuff.’
‘The stuff?’ she mused aloud, though inside her spirit was doing cartwheels at having commanded such a grand achievement. ‘And what would that be, I wonder? The stuff?’
His eyes glinted and he took her arms in a firm grip. ‘You’re just loving this, aren’t you? You think you’ve got the power.’
She gave one of those tinkling little laughs. But it was filled with excitement, fuelled by the thrilling sensation of electricity tingling where his skin collided with hers. ‘Don’t be silly. As if women ever think about power.’
He gave a brief sardonic laugh. Then his expression lightened. ‘I don’t suppose you’ll be dancing tonight?’
A sliver of excitement shot down her spine. ‘Probably. After everything today, I might have to.’
‘Ah. Do you know …’ the gleam in his eyes intensified ‘… I’d really love to see that?’
CHAPTER EIGHT
AMBER had changed into a simple white dress with a hem that floated around her knees. Guy could see through the flimsy fabric to something white she had on underneath.
What he was about to witness was the real thing, he realised, taking in her preparations with a weird thrill down his spine. A sense of how lucky he was, how privileged to be allowed into something so essentially private, gave him a pang of misgiving. What if he blew it again? What if he said the wrong thing and somehow bruised her feelings?
She was right, though, about the atmosphere without electric light. The moon filled the room with a ghostly glow, reflected in the wall mirrors she’d placed at either end. Along the third wall she had an empty bookcase turned on its side to serve as her barre.
When she moved across the room to the stereo his anticipation sharpened into suspense. She touched something, then the opening chords of ‘Clair de Lune’ shimmered on the air.
He held his breath.
Gliding to stand under the skylight, she extended her arms upwards. Then, after casting him a long, mysterious glance, she started. She rose on her toes and reached up to the moon and danced—a spirit of the night in thrall to the music. She seemed possessed by some elemental magic. It was spellbinding, every movement perfection, every line of her graceful form lovely.
As she swooped down, then reached up to glide and twirl gently on her toes, the moonlight turned her skin translucent and caught a faint lustre in her dress. Once or twice she sent him another of those long, galvanising glances. It was so—intimate. Almost confiding. He felt as if she was inviting him in to share her experience.
His heart hammered like a schoolboy’s.
He sat motionless on top of the pile on the sofa in the hall, mesmerised, hardly daring to breathe for fear of breaking the spell. Never in his life had he expected to be affected by ballet.
But the purity and simplicity of her movements, so expressive of the music, enslaved him.
As the last note faded he sat frozen, moved to his soul.
She turned to look at him. He could see the rise and fall of her breasts from her exertion, then he realised with shame his initial fascination in the whole business had been sensual. Still was, of course, on some level. Face it, every level. But the reality had been so much more than that.
‘Amber …’ His voice sounded as if it had issued from the centre of the earth.
Smiling at the crack in his voice, she strolled across to the stereo in her ballet slippers and switched it off. Half turning to deliver him an apologetic shrug, she said, ‘It’d be better if I had more space.’
He clambered down from his perch. ‘Oh, no,’ he said, striding across to her, feeling like a great, hulking clumsy brute. ‘No, it couldn’t be better. It was …’
He was breathing so hard his insides might have been shaking. Faced with her gorgeous eager face, her eyes shining with comprehension of his appreciation, he felt his best words desert him.
He took her in his arms. ‘Amber, I … Really, I …’
He couldn’t help it. He risked everything and kissed her. Thank the gods or angels or whatever, she melted her soft, yielding curves against his hungry, burning bones and kissed him right back, her wine-sweet mouth so luscious, so arousing, he was instantly harder than a log.
He drew her lips into his mouth, glorying in their soft, addictive resilience. Her honeyed breath mingled with his, tongue tips touching. When the intoxicating event finally ended, to his extreme relief she took his hand and led him into her bedroom.
Exhilarated after her dance, and drunk with the kiss, Amber turned to face him, her veins ablaze with fever. Excitement made her tremble.
He dropped his jacket on the floor, then opened both hands before him. ‘I’m crazy for you. But are you sure that you want this?’
Even if she hadn’t read the faint sheen on his forehead, the tension apparent in his muscles, there was an intensity in his voice that spoke of his desire.
She moved close and placed her hand flat over his heart. She could feel the big muscle under her palm. Thumping like crazy, all right. Like her own.
‘Oh, I want it,’ she said, breathless in her heartfelt sincerity. ‘Want you.’
He kissed her again fiercely, possessively, pushing her up against a wall, his big hot hands seeking the fastenings of her dress while he pinned her with his pelvis and ground his hips against her.
She could feel the hard bulk of his erection against her abdomen. The friction was great, but it only made her sex burn with more need. She parted her thighs and hooked a leg around him, the better to rub her maddened flesh against that seductive ridge.
‘Rock me, rock me,’ she rasped, her body yearning for contact of the sexy, masculine kind.
‘Steady now,’ he warned. ‘Not so fast.’
Though he seemed unable to take his own advice. He devoured her with kisses and caresses, including obligingly stroking that delicate spot with his fingers through the thin covering of her body stocking. She clung to him, moaning as waves of liquid pleasure thrilled through her aroused flesh.
The incredible friction was fantastic, but only served to increase the burning demand inside her.
Thirsting for total skin contact, she helped him find the fastenings to her dress. She could feel the heat in his urgent hands as he lowered the zip, interspersing every small act with more hot, greedy kisses. Her face, her throat, her breasts.
‘I could eat you alive,’ he breathed with husky fervour. ‘You’re gorgeous. So beautiful. So—so everything.’
The dress fell to the floor and the body stocking soon followed. Amber bent to untie her slippers.
‘No, leave them a minute,’ he commanded. ‘I want to—look at you.’
Breathing hard, he reached a hand to stroke her, tracing a gentle line from shoulder to hip, as if she were made of some rare and precious material.
The dark flame in his eyes burned. ‘You know, I never expected to be with you again.’ His voice had that deep, gravelly quality.
Her heart lurched. Was he mocking her for her turnaround?
‘You didn’t want to be?’ She searched his face.
He took a moment to answer. ‘I was a fool. I thought I’d ruined my chances with you.’
She saw the seriousness in his eyes and realis
ed there was no mockery.
‘Well …’ Her voice sank to a whisper. ‘Things can change.’
He was silent, shadows she couldn’t read coming and going in his expression.
She stepped forward and put her lips to his throat. At the same time her nimble fingers released his shirt buttons. Hungry for more of his salty, alluring man taste, she pushed his shirt aside and explored his muscled chest with her hands and lips.
He put his arms around her and kissed her lips, his chest hair grazing her breasts. Then, seized by a mutual urgency, each of them went for his belt buckle, excited hands colliding.
When at last he stood naked Amber’s eyes widened in awe. ‘Heavens.’
His penis was so thick and engorged, pulsing with the urgent life, she was nearly overcome. In rapturous worship she went down on her knees, held the marvellous creature in both hands and licked the salty tip.
He shuddered and let out a wild groan. Amazingly, his length thickened and grew harder in her hands.
‘I suppose this must be quite tender here?’ With a grin she closed her lips over the end and gave a mischievous little suck.
Guy tensed, making a quick move to quell the delicious procedure before it catapulted him too far, too soon. ‘Hey—no way,’ he bit out. ‘Amber.’ He pushed her away from his too-willing shaft, shaking his head with mock sternness. ‘You could live to regret that.’ Without ceremony he hauled her to her feet and thrust her onto the bed.
With a giggle at his expression, Amber lolled in luxurious anticipation of his next move. ‘You’re being very bossy.’
‘That’s because, sweetheart, right here and right now I am the boss.’
‘Promise?’ She fluttered her lashes. ‘I admit I’m finding you really quite—dictatorial. I shudder to think what you might do to me.’
‘Here,’ he said, smiling, ‘give me that foot.’
She lifted the foot and playfully wiggled it at him. He caught it, and with eyes gleaming untied the strings and peeled off her slipper.