by Donald Robyn
Niko reached into the car and removed the keys, then straightened to walk to the front of the car and lower the bonnet. And startled her by saying coolly as he straightened, ‘I’m sorry.’
For some reason that brought a reluctant smile to her lips. Hastily banishing it, she said, ‘You’re going to have to produce a little more contrition than that to make me believe you.’
He laughed, and for a poignant second she saw the mischievous boy he must once have been. Her shaky defences crumbled into nothingness, and she took a step towards him, only to realise from the sudden hardening of his face what she was inviting.
‘Take care, it’s a bit uneven here,’ she told him jerkily, and swivelled to direct the warm light of the torch away from him to the path.
By the time they reached the house she’d regained enough control to say, ‘Thanks for that. I’ll see if I’ve got a screwdriver—’
‘Don’t worry,’ he said levelly. ‘There’s bound to be one in my car.’
She swallowed. ‘It doesn’t matter—’
‘You might as well know what the problem is with that car.’ He stopped and held out his hand. ‘Give me the torch. You’re shivering. Go inside—you don’t need to stay out here.’
She opened her mouth to protest, then thought better of it. Away from him she’d have time to regroup, return to her usual equilibrium, scotch this impetuous, crazy longing for something—something dangerous, something that might mark her for life if she surrendered to it.
‘All right,’ she said, carefully avoiding his touch as she handed him the torch. ‘Thanks.’
* * *
Safe inside the house, she leaned against the breakfast bar and tried to calm her inner turbulence, struggling to reassert the normal even temperament she took for granted. Hoping it might help, she concentrated on listening for the reassuring sound of the engine starting in Steve’s car.
In vain. When the tap came on the door her heart leapt in her breast, and she had to force herself to walk sedately across and open it.
‘It’s not the solenoid,’ Niko told her calmly, eyes slightly narrowed. ‘It’s more likely to be the battery, although judging by the state of the engine it could be a multitude of other things. Whatever, it means you’ve got no way of getting to work tomorrow.’
She’d already worked this out. ‘I’ll hire a car until I get the battery fixed,’ she told him sturdily.
He frowned. ‘But how will you get to Waipuna tomorrow morning? Walk?’
The flick of sarcasm in his tone irritated her into retorting, ‘Yet another advantage of living in a small town. If I talk sweetly to Ted at the hire firm, he’ll bring a car out to me.’ If he had any vehicles to spare. Ted ran a very small concern—more a hobby than a business.
In a voice she didn’t recognise Niko said, ‘A friend of yours, is he?’
‘You could call him a friend,’ she said, keeping her tone level and distant. It was no business of his. Actually, Ted had been Steve’s fishing companion. Of the same age and with similar tastes, they’d spent many days out in Ted’s launch.
The telephone’s shrill summon startled her.
Niko said, ‘Answer it—it’s probably the police.’
Sure enough, she recognised the voice that said, ‘Elana, it’s Phil. Bad news, I’m sorry. Not official, mind you—you’ll need to get the car examined by a mechanic for insurance purposes, but it looks to us as though it’s a write-off.’
She closed her eyes. ‘Oh—curses.’
‘Yeah. Listen, how are you going to get to work tomorrow?’
‘I’ll manage.’
‘You realise that it might take some time for you to get the insurance pay-out? And you know how much it costs to hire a car?’
In some ways Phil was like an older brother. He clearly had a pretty good idea of her financial situation, and, although she didn’t mind that, she did not want to be conducting this conversation with him while Niko watched with a hard blue gaze and an expression on his handsome face that chilled her.
Turning her head away, she said, ‘Yes, I do. Thanks for ringing, Phil.’
‘Sure, but if you can’t get a lift, ring me.’
She smiled. ‘Not going to happen, Phil,’ and hung up.
‘Your policeman schoolmate, I gather,’ Niko said ironically.
‘Yes.’
‘Not good news, I’m guessing.’
‘No.’ She shrugged, covering a yawn with her hand. ‘His considered opinion—and that of the other cop on duty—is that my car’s a write-off.’
‘I see. What time do you start work?’
‘Eight o’clock,’ she said automatically, then stared at him. ‘Why?’
‘I’ll give you a lift in.’
‘No, that’s not necessary,’ Elana returned swiftly, adding rather too vehemently, ‘I can deal with this.’
He shrugged. ‘Are you always this intransigent when you’re offered some neighbourly help?’
Suddenly she wanted him gone. Tension overwhelmed her, fuelled by a surge of dangerously volatile sensation, a yearning to yield, to let him take over.
She bit her lip to stem an impetuous flood of words, and took a deep breath. ‘I can cope. I do not need to be rescued.’ She marched across the room and opened the door onto the night, holding it there. ‘Thank you for helping me, and for offering a lift. It’s very kind of you but I don’t—’
‘I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty.’
‘Niko—don’t...’ Her voice trailed away.
Gaze darkening, he came towards her. Her breath locked in her lungs. She tried for a defiant stare, only to gasp when he reached out and touched her mouth. Her heart jumped in her breast and, mesmerised, captured by the intensity of his gaze, she couldn’t move. Beneath the caress her lips shaped a word—his name—but no sound came from them.
This, she thought dazedly, this was what she’d wanted ever since they’d danced together. This was why she’d looked forward to all those computer chats while he was away. Into her mind came a fleeting reminder of her mother’s warning, only to be immediately dismissed. She wasn’t planning to marry Niko. She wasn’t in love with him. So she’d be perfectly safe...
But she whispered again, ‘Don’t...’
‘Don’t?’ he asked in a deep voice that revealed he was feeling the same powerful urge. ‘Don’t what?’
‘I don’t know,’ she whispered against that gentle finger.
‘You’re shivering. Are you cold?’
‘No,’ she said. Then in a shaky, dazed voice, ‘Yes.’
‘Let me warm you.’
He waited for her nod before he pulled her into his embrace. His arms around her were like a bulwark against the world, a safe shield against anything. Delicious, overwhelming anticipation stripped away the last of her defences. Some distant part of her brain ordered her to pull away.
She couldn’t.
In a harsh voice he said, ‘Elana.’
‘Yes,’ she breathed.
He bent his head and claimed her mouth as though he’d been longing to kiss her for months, for years...for ever.
And then he lifted his head, and released her. Suddenly cold, she shivered again, and immediately he took her in his arms once more, holding her more gently while he scanned her upturned face. ‘What is it? Are you afraid?’
‘Yes—no—not really,’ she muttered, a powerful pulse of sensation—exquisite, demanding—turning her into a halfwit.
Something—amusement?—glimmered in the steel-blue eyes. ‘Which?’ he asked in a tone she’d never heard before.
Dazed, in thrall to voluptuous desire, Elana said desperately, ‘I’m not afraid of you.’
‘Good.’ He bent his head and kissed her again, his mouth as urgent and hungry as the fierce need that ricocheted through her.
She could stop him, push him away, prove that she wasn’t weak enough to surrender to this wild excitement, but a more reckless, hungry part of her longed for more...
So when
he lifted his mouth a fraction above hers, and said in a rigidly controlled voice, ‘Unless you want this to go further, stop me now,’ she was dismayed.
Without thought, she croaked, ‘That’s not fair.’
His brows lifted and he stepped back. ‘It’s your decision.’
Deep in Elana something snapped. She’d fought this potent, compelling attraction because Niko reminded her of her father—but love and passion were two different things. And as she didn’t—couldn’t—love him, there could be no danger. Instinct told her that he would be a good lover...
‘Elana?’ No impatience in his voice, none in his eyes, he waited while she hesitated.
Every cell in her body longed for him, craved the surcease of passion in his arms with an intensity that crashed through common sense and resistance. He didn’t expect anything of her but an affair...one that would end when he went back to whatever palatial mansion he lived in. She’d be safe. And oh, she wanted him with such intensity she had to keep her teeth clenched to stop them from chattering.
He took her in his arms again, holding her more gently while he scanned her upturned face.
‘Elana?’
Reassured, she breathed, ‘Yes.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
AND NIKO KISSED her again.
All caution forgotten, heady recklessness released the response Elana had been fighting since the night of the Centennial Ball. She was overwhelmed by a clamorous need—voluptuous, compelling, demanding—that banished coherent thought. Responding with a passion she’d never experienced before, she relished the hardening of Niko’s lean body against her, mindlessly pressing herself as close as she could.
His arms tightened around her, fuelling the heat that blazed inside her, a yearning to be even closer, a longing for more—for everything, a hunger for Niko that claimed her completely.
The realisation hit her like a blow. Unconsciously she stiffened, and instantly he loosened his grip while he scanned her upturned face. ‘You are afraid,’ he accused harshly.
She swallowed to ease a dry throat, flicked her tongue along dry lips, and managed to croak, ‘I told you, I’m not afraid of you.’
As he claimed her lips once more she felt the explosion of need melting her bones, heating her blood in surrender. This time, when he lifted his head, he asked, ‘Which door?’
Elana pointed helplessly towards her bedroom then gasped when he lifted her and strode towards it. She hid her face against his neck, inhaling the subtle skin scent of the man she wanted.
From some distant, barely accessible part of her brain, a voice whispered, Stop. Stop, before it’s too late...
But another, more primal voice answered, You want him. Take him...
Niko nudged the door open with his shoulder, took the three steps across to her bed, its blankets thrown back, and stopped. His arms tightened around her, and he lowered her to her feet, sliding her down the hard length of his body. The heat inside her exploded into a conflagration.
As she grabbed his upper arms to steady herself she registered powerful muscles, his potent male strength and something else—a confidence in herself that vetoed turning back.
He gazed down at her with narrowed, intent eyes. ‘You’re sure?’
She’d never been more sure of anything. Suddenly dumb, she nodded.
‘How sure?’
No words would come. Surely he could see how she felt? Why did he demand reassurance? Elana reached out and touched his mouth as he’d touched hers, her finger lingering along the length of his lower lip. ‘Kiss me,’ she managed.
He laughed deep in his throat and pulled her so close nothing but their clothes separated them, his mouth taking hers with such passion that all fear, all caution died.
When he lifted his head she struggled for a little distance. ‘What is it?’ he asked, his voice rough.
‘You must be too hot.’ She began to unbutton his shirt, smoothing the fabric back so she could stroke the skin beneath.
‘That’s—you—are just making me hotter.’ But he stood there until the last button was free, then shrugged off the shirt.
Elana’s breath stopped in her throat. He was magnificent, bronzed skin revealing the taut muscles beneath. Tentatively she reached out and spread her palm against his chest, shivering as the heat of his body reached her.
‘Fair’s fair,’ he said, his voice lazy. And lifted the hem of the T-shirt she’d donned when she’d got up.
Colour flamed through her cheeks, heated her brow, sizzled through every nerve, every cell as he slowly pulled the shirt up. She made an instinctive move to step away, then stopped, fists clenching as she fought for control while he pulled the soft cloth past her head and tossed it over his shoulder.
Elana had to stop herself from covering her taut breasts with her hands, from turning her back. She looked up into his handsome face—more angular, harder, than she’d seen him before.
‘You’re blushing,’ he said softly. ‘Are you shy?’
‘I’m not—’
The words dried on her tongue when he bent his dark head and kissed the spot where her shoulder met her neck. Her skin tightened at the gentle scrape of his teeth on her skin, and the swift sweep of his tongue. Every sense sharpened fiercely. Sensation zinged from the pit of her stomach—powerful, desperately clamouring for satisfaction, for the exquisite torture of his mouth on her skin again. She shivered in the circle of his arms, yet felt strangely safe.
He straightened. ‘Is this the first time—?’
‘No,’ she managed, her skin fiery.
‘You’re beautiful,’ he said quietly.
Chilled, because she knew she wasn’t beautiful, Elana shook her head and tried to pull back. It had to be a shallow compliment, something he’d probably said to each of his lovers—who’d all been stunning, according to Mrs Nixon.
He loosened his arms, frowning down into her face. ‘I mean it. Not conventionally, but you move like a dancer and your skin is exquisite and your eyes manage to be both seductive and intelligent. As for your mouth—’
He lowered his head, banishing her momentary loss of confidence with the sheer, unsullied eroticism of his kiss as their tongues duelled.
Elana’s heartbeat rocketed, and with it a sensual anticipation. Either he was the best liar she’d ever met, or he really meant it. Whatever, she didn’t care. Love didn’t enter this. They’d come together as equals. When it was time to part she might miss the rapture he promised, but she wouldn’t be shattered by his absence.
There was no mistaking the guttural note in his voice when he lifted his head. ‘Just looking at you makes me want you.’
She believed him. Her breasts felt heavy and languorous, their rosy centres tight and pleading. She forced her voice into an unnatural steadiness. ‘It’s mutual.’
But he already knew that. Almost angrily, he said, ‘But I have no protection.’
Elana dragged in a sharp breath. Wracked by passion, she muttered, ‘It’s all right. I’m—I’m safe.’
His gaze sharpened. ‘Sure?’
‘Absolutely.’
He laughed deep in his throat and kissed her again, saying, ‘Good. So am I,’ against her eager mouth.
Then, releasing her, he undid his belt. As he stepped out of his trousers she tried to control her quickened, sharp breathing. He was—magnificent. Like some ancient Greek god brought to life, she thought, shuddering with need.
And nothing could slow the hungry sweetness of passion that snaked sinuously through her body, setting her aflame.
After swallowing desperately she managed to mimic his words of a few seconds ago—seconds that had somehow changed her life. ‘Fair’s fair.’
Elana pushed her elderly jeans down, dragging in a fierce, hungry breath as his gaze followed her hands, his features hardening into a mask of desire.
He waited until she stepped free and then picked her up and laid her gently, carefully, on the sheet.
She closed her eyes as her fingers fumbled wi
th her narrow briefs. His voice came as a shock.
‘Here, let me.’
Desire leapt a boundary, intensifying into something she’d never felt previously while he gently removed her last garment and slid onto the bed beside her.
‘Open your eyes,’ he said almost beneath his breath.
‘Why?’
He laughed softly and kissed each eyelid. Against her lips he said, ‘So you know who you’re making love to.’
‘I know.’ Her voice was thick and the words came slowly.
‘And because I find your eyes infinitely alluring with those tiny sparkles of gold amidst the green.’
Charmed, she lifted her lashes, and met his gaze, almost wincing as something odd happened to her heart. Heat flooded her skin and she closed her eyes again when he kissed her once more and slid his arm beneath her, holding her against him while he explored her body with his lips and his hand, driving her so wild with an anguished hunger that she couldn’t stop the little whimpers that broke through her lips.
And when his mouth found the pleading tip of her breast delight flowed through her at the sensual tug of his lips, his slow, gentle exploration of her body.
Amid the sensuous turmoil, she recognised the alteration in his heartbeat, and rejoiced. Whatever happened afterwards, she would always know that Niko wanted her as recklessly as she wanted him.
Eventually she could no longer bear such erotic torment. She arched against him, stroking, exploring him as he was discovering her. Under her touch his body flexed, muscles coiling, and he slid his hand further down towards the slick, throbbing heat that ached for something she’d never experienced.
When he reached his destination a shuddering groan tore from her throat and she pressed even harder against him, demanding, seeking, so caught up in the carnal magic of his lovemaking that nothing mattered but his touch. Lost in this torrid anticipation, she could no longer think, no longer make excuses, no longer guard what she was doing.
‘Now?’
The harsh, driven intensity of his tone boosted her anticipation to unbearable levels. ‘Yes.’
It was all she could say. And all he needed to hear. As she arched against him he thrust into her. The jolt of exquisite pleasure shocked her into crying out, and he froze.