Every now and then there were moments as perfect as this.
‘What?’ Hunter asked, as he caught her staring.
‘Nothing,’ Lily answered, but the smile on her lips faded as she watched him, appalled as he turned to the ending and started to read.
‘You can’t do that!’ She grabbed at his wrist but he started to laugh, holding the book up higher and somehow managing to keep her back and read at the same time. ‘If you tell me what happened to her, if you even hint at the ending, then I’ll never ever forgive you.’ She was on her knees now, reaching for her book, and they were both laughing, really laughing as he teased her, laughing as, despite her attempt at protest, somehow she let him. But suddenly it all changed, the atmosphere charging in a very different direction as nakedness hit, the innocence of the moment deliciously gone as Hunter, on cue, rose to the occasion.
‘Now look what you’ve done,’ Hunter admonished, staring down at his splendid erection. ‘You just can’t leave me alone for even five minutes, Lily! There I was, trying to quietly read….’
‘Keep reading, then,’ Lily said, but there was a provocative note to her voice that Hunter registered, a small pregnant pause that spoke volumes—energy, arousal crackling between them so potently Lily could feel the tiny hairs on her arms rise to the static charge between them.
‘Keep reading,’ Lily said huskily again, delivering a velvet-wrapped order, watching the bob of his Adam’s apple, a beat of hesitation before he picked up the book and seemingly resumed reading as Lily knelt beside him.
His face obscured by the book made her braver somehow, no knowing eyes on hers, nothing to distract from his magnificent splendour. A low rumble of excitement stirred in her groin as her tentative fingers reached out for him, his blatant want growing in her hands. Never had she wanted him more, bringing her hungry lips to taste him, the soft feel of his skin on her tongue a contrast to the strength beneath it, one hand in her hair guiding her to where he needed her most, inhaling the soapy clean smell of him she took him deeper, hearing his moans of pleasure, the thump of the book falling to the floor as fingers laced into her hair.
‘Lily.’ His voice was a husky kiss, his pleasure completely hers as he delivered his salty kiss, and when afterwards as he slid her up his body, dragged her up to join him, clung to her so intensely, so fiercely, it truly felt as if he would he never let her go.
CHAPTER TWELVE
NORMALLY Hunter was up before the birds, showered and ready to go before she had even surfaced, but on this Monday morning it was Lily dressed and fragrant, smiling as he leant back on the pillow and closed his eyes. ‘How come you’re up so early? I thought you weren’t working till eleven?’
‘I’ve got an interview at nine!’ Lily beamed as his eyes snapped open, taking a sip of her coffee as Hunter sat up in the bed. ‘I rang the university last week and they’ve squeezed in an appointment.’
‘You didn’t say anything.’
‘Didn’t I?’ Lily gave a vague shrug—she probably hadn’t. Even though Hunter had remained in Melbourne for the past week he’d still been inordinately busy, as had Lily, organising and adapting to her life and surroundings. Hunter’s bland apartment was now weighted with texture and colour, scented candles burning into the evening, glorious silk cushions and vast vases of flowers delightfully breaking the structured ambiences. The fact she’d forgotten to mention a brief phone call was hardly a big deal—or so she’d thought! ‘I’ll make you a coffee while you have a shower.’
‘No.’
‘Tea, then,’ Lily offered, turning to go, blindly missing his angry point but stopping in her tracks as Hunter’s voice followed her down the hall.
‘I meant no to the interview.’
‘Excuse me?’
She was sure she must have misheard and still Lily gave him the benefit of the doubt, frowning as she turned her head.
‘You’re not going to the interview, Lily, you’re not going to university. You’re needed here.’
‘For what?’ Lily gave a shocked incredulous laugh. ‘To preen myself for when you come home, to rattle around in shops and spend a fortune on clothes and furniture? To meet you for lunch when Abigail can slot me in? I’m not even having this discussion with you, Hunter—we agreed I’d do this course and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.’
Almost gibbering with rage, Lily marched to the kitchen, half expecting him to follow her, picking up the paper again and pretending to read. Only when it was clear he wasn’t coming, only when she heard the sound of the shower being turned on did Lily let out a long-held breath and try to fathom what was taking place.
Subtly at first—so subtly she’d hardly even noticed—he commandeered her time, thwarted every arrangement she made. A hastily arranged lunch date with her new husband reason enough to cancel a vague plan to catch up with friends, an impromptu trip invite to join him in Sydney reason enough for Lily not to spend a couple of days at her mother’s, his opposition to her getting a car…and now this.
‘Lily?’
She didn’t look up, didn’t acknowledge him at all as he joined her at the breakfast table, just carried on reading the paper as he helped himself to coffee and pastries.
‘Lily, what I said before, I think you misunderstood.’
Her lips pursed as she carried on reading the paper, her legs tightly crossed, one foot swinging to a rhythm of its own, she pointedly refused to discuss it.
‘When I said you couldn’t go to university, what I meant was there’s no need. Abigail’s been looking into it for you. Apparently you can complete your course online.’
‘Online?’ Now she spoke, shot out the word with an incredulous laugh that was completely devoid of humour. Because there was nothing funny about this, nothing funny about it at all. Again Hunter was telling her to subscribe to what he considered best. An independent woman, Lily could see the bricks of her luxurious prison rising around her and she moved quickly to pull them down, to make this man realise that she made her own rules, made up her own mind.
‘Hunter, what the hell is Abigail sorting out my schooling for? She’s your PA, or diary planner, or what ever she wants to call herself. But she’s not mine, and for the record I don’t want to study online, I want to finish my degree properly.’
‘We’ve been through this.’ Hunter voice was incredibly measured, but she could hear the mounting impatience behind it, as if he were talking to some belligerent two-year-old who was defying him. ‘You’re Mrs Lily Myles now…’
‘I’m still my own person,’ Lily flared.
‘Not for the next eleven months,’ Hunter said and she glimpsed his power, the might, the drive that tossed boundaries aside and propelled him forward. But up to this point his undeniable force had never been aimed at her—at least, not in a negative way, and the tiny doubts she had chosen to ignore, the tiny negative questions she had pushed aside all swirled together into one black hole as Hunter told her in no uncertain terms what he expected from her. ‘In eleven months you can do what you like, Lily, walk around in scruffy jeans with your fellow students, discussing the bloody meaning of life, take on every bleating charity case that comes knocking at your door, drive to your student bashes in some beaten-up old car, but for the next few months, you’ll act accordingly!’
‘According to what?’ Lily demanded. ‘Come on, Hunter, according to what? You want me to be happy, you want to know exactly what I’m thinking, you want to make love to me over and over…’
‘So you’re not happy in bed?’
‘It’s not the bedroom that’s the problem,’ Lily responded angrily. Exasperation raising her voice, she jabbed a desperate finger at his chest then pointed it over and over to his head. ‘It’s here, Hunter. You want absolutely everything of me. You want me to be a real wife, to be with you, to tell you what I’m thinking, what I’m feeling, yet you give absolutely nothing back!’
‘Do you want me to dig out the house deeds?’ Hunter’s voice was pure ice. ‘Nothing
is what you had when I met you!’
‘You don’t own me,’ Lily flared, instinctively fighting back, refusing to be intimidated, stunned at the way he was behaving, sure that her anger, her fury would provoke a retraction from him. But instead she got a reaction, and one she had subconsciously been dreading—eyes, darkening in rage, lips that had always, to her at least, been kind curling in contempt as he spat out the words.
‘Oh, but, I do. And don’t you forget it.’
She felt as if she’d been hit, the sting of his words, the brutality of them hitting her with full force, momentarily stunning her. But she recovered quickly. Defiant, enraged, she faced him head on, absolutely refused to be intimidated by him.
‘Never!’ Just one word, one single word, but it was said with such strength, such conviction that it hit its mark, allowing her to glimpse just a flicker of doubt in his cool blue eyes, the tiniest of chinks in his impressive armour as her unwavering certainty reached him. It gave her the momentum to continue. ‘And don’t you ever, ever talk to me like that again, Hunter.’ Her lips were numb with tension, but her voice was clear. ‘Let’s get things straight. I am going to carry on working, I am going to university, I am going to get a car, and if you ever talk to me like that again, I’ll be out that door.’
On cue it opened. Abigail, crisp and elegant in a black suit, walked in and, no doubt sensing the tension, gave them both a wide smile.
‘Crisis!’
‘We’re fine,’ Lily snarled, but Abigail laughed.
‘Glad to hear it, but I was actually talking about work!’ Lily balled her hands into fists, more furious with herself for giving Abigail even a hint there was a problem. ‘I’m afraid you’re needed in Singapore.’
‘When?’ Hunter’s voice was even, but his body was still taut with tension. The row was nowhere near over, there were so many unsaid words still sizzling between them as they both attempted to pretend everything was normal.
‘We’re on the 10 a.m. flight!’
There was nothing worse than an unfinished row.
Abigail had packed for him because, as Abigail had explained sweetly, she knew what Hunter needed, leaving Lily standing bristling in the lounge with him. Every now and then one of them would open their mouth to speak, then clearly think better of it, mindful there was nothing that could be said without revealing to Abigail’s undoubtedly pricked ears the reason for their marriage.
It was Hunter who finally broke the strained silence.
‘Will you be OK?’ He sounded tired, as if all the fight had gone out of him, and Lily was appallingly close to crying, but she didn’t let him see that. Better he think her a coldhearted bitch than just another woman who adored him.
Loved him even?
‘I’m sure I’ll cope without you, Hunter.’ She flashed her green eyes at him, directed at him the anger that was turned in on herself. ‘It might take a while to work out my schedule or sort out my clothes in the morning without you doing it for me, but I’m sure I can muddle through till you get back.’
‘Lily, don’t.’ His normally assured voice sounded weary with wretchedness so she toned it down a touch, even managed to feel sorry for him—a long flight and no doubt a frantic work day lay ahead, which made it a very long time till the sun set on this row. ‘We’ll talk when I get back, OK?’
Abigail appeared with her pussycat smile, wheeling Hunter’s suitcase. ‘All set?’
‘Yep.’ Hunter nodded and made to go then changed his mind, ‘Actually, Abigail, I’ll meet you down at the car.’
‘If we’re going to catch that flight, Hunter, we really need to move now.’
‘I said,’ Hunter growled, ‘that I’d meet you down at the car. Now, can I have five bloody minutes’ peace with my wife?’
Lily’s only solace in the whole wretched morning was the indignant look on Abigail’s face as she very reluctantly took herself out of the door.
‘It’s like putting out the cat in a storm,’ Hunter said once the door was safely closed. It was such an apt description that despite her misery Lily managed a wobbly smile. ‘I’m actually going to ask her for the key today—she can use the intercom, like everyone else.’
‘Can’t have her barging in on us rowing.’ Lily offered a feeble joke, still shaking from the argument and all it had unleashed.
He dragged a hand through his hair, and for once it didn’t fall back perfectly. For once he didn’t look like the Hunter she’d first met. Exhaustion seeped from him, those stunning, direct eyes now puzzled and weary.
That was exactly how he felt.
There she stood, confused, wary, defiant and so incredibly beautiful, so, so…vulnerable.
He loathed the way he was acting, loathed the vile tirades that came out of his mouth, loathed that he had reduced them to this. All the fun, all the heady excitement that had brought them together dissipated further with every outburst, but it had to be this way, Hunter reminded himself. With every night they spent together, with every shared laugh, shared kiss he could feel them blending, two separate ingredients forming one so sweet, so infinitely desirable it was torturous not to sample, but if ever self-control was called for it was now.
He wanted to keep her safe—safe from the future he might provide.
Reaching out, expecting her to flinch, to push his hand away, relief suffused him as his hand captured her cheek, as she rested her head into palm, her soft skin beneath his fingers, her delicate fragrance reaching him.
‘What’s wrong, Hunter?’
‘Nothing.’ He closed his eyes as he answered, her question so genuine, her voice so tender it was impossible to look into her eyes and lie.
‘Something is,’ she insisted gently. ‘And if I can help…’
‘You can’t.’ His voice came out way too harsh, yet still he could feel her warmth, feel the infinite well of her caring, and it terrified him. He wanted to tell her so much, he actually wanted to lean on her, to have her hold him.
‘Is it Emma?’ It was as if she was mirroring his soul. ‘Your parents?’
‘I’m fine.’
‘These headaches you’re getting—’
‘They’re nothing.’
‘Are you drinking?’ Snapping his eyes open, the direct question so far from the answer it brought an incredulous smile to his lips.
‘Where the hell did you pluck that from? You know I don’t drink.’
‘I don’t know anything about you.’ Her voice was still soft, her eyes two deep pools of concern. ‘I just see these moods, the headaches, the pain you seem to be in. If there is something going on, maybe you can tell me. Maybe I can help…’
Oh, God, he wanted to tell her, wanted to tell her what was worrying him, what drove him over and over to push her away. Momentarily he faltered, his mouth opening to speak, to vomit out the pain that was churning in his soul. But she must have sensed his weakness, sensed his desire to tell, because as she confirmed he could go on, that soft voice telling him that maybe she could help him, as surely as if she’d slapped him, Hunter pulled back.
The sound of his father’s stick banging on the bedroom floor, beating in time to the throb of his neuralgia, as she blindly offered to stand by him. And it wasn’t an idle promise—Hunter knew that.
He knew, with a certainty that chilled him to the marrow, she meant it.
He had to protect her from himself at all costs.
‘Look, I’ve got to go.’
‘We need to talk.’
‘We will when I get back,’ Hunter simultaneously lied as he promised. ‘I’ll be gone three, maybe four days. I have to be back for the ball on Saturday.’ He gave a tiny wince. ‘It’s your birthday on Saturday, too…’
‘It’s no big deal.’
‘I’ll make sure I’m back by Friday. You’re sure you’ll be OK?’
‘It’s not your job to worry.’ Lily said it without malice, just affirmed the wretched rules they had agreed to. She expected a wry smile or even a ‘Touché,’ but she was stunned
when he shook his head.
‘It’s not that easy, though, is it?’
And despite the row, despite the vile start to the day, it was the closest they’d ever been, the closest he’d ever come to acknowledging them, and at that moment she couldn’t pretend, couldn’t let him get on a plane without saying a little of what was in her heart.
‘No, it isn’t that easy,’ she admitted slowly. ‘Maybe if I was your glamorous mistress and we saw each other once a week for fabulous no-strings sex then we could play by the rules. But living together, lo—’ She choked back the word and quickly rephrased it. ‘Laughing together, sharing our families, it’s impossible not to care.’ He gave a tired nod of understanding and it gave her the courage to continue. ‘I am worried about you. Please, tell me what’s going on.’
‘There’s nothing going on.’ The tiny whirlwinds that danced on their horizon blackened then, an updated forecast looming in Lily’s mind, and suddenly she was scared for him, knew for certain that he was lying.
‘I don’t believe you,’ Lily said softly.
‘It’s really nothing,’ he said more firmly, though it was almost as if he was trying to convince himself rather than her. ‘I’m just tired, I guess. Can’t stand the thought of getting on another plane, crashing out in another hotel.’
‘Do you have to go today?’
‘Yes.’
‘And so do I,’ Lily said. All the anger gone from them now and he actually nodded his understanding. ‘This is something I have to do.’
An impatient buzz on the intercom, no doubt from Abigail, fractured the rare moment of true intimacy, and Hunter reluctantly withdrew and gave her the briefest but most tender of kisses before picking up his briefcase and heading for the door.
Contracted: A Wife for the Bedroom Page 10