And he couldn’t wait a moment longer.
Leaning forward, he fumbled with the fastening of her bra and it was gone. Then he lowered his mouth to her bare breast, feeling the nipple harden beneath his tongue.
Nola whimpered. His tongue was pulling her upwards. She felt as if she was floating; her blood was lighter than air.
Helplessly, she let her head fall back, arching her spine so that her hips were pressing against his thighs. Her head was spinning, her body so hot and tight with need that she hardly knew who she was. All she knew was that she wanted him—wanted to feel him on her and in her.
She couldn’t fight it anymore—couldn’t fight herself.
Desperately she squirmed beneath him, freeing him with her fingers. She heard him groan, then a choking sound deep in his throat as she slid her hand around his erection.
For a moment he steadied himself above her, the muscles of his arms straining to hold his weight, his beautiful clean profile tensing with the effort.
Breathing out unsteadily, he gazed down at her. ‘What about—?’ he began. ‘Are you protected?’
Nola gazed at him feverishly. She didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want anything to come between them—and, besides, there was no need.
‘It’s fine,’ she whispered.
His eyes flared, his expression shifting, his face growing tauter as slowly he pushed the hem of her skirt up around her hips. She shivered, the sudden rush of air cooling her overheated skin, and then she breathed in sharply as he pressed the palm of his hand against the liquid ache between her thighs.
Helplessly, eagerly, she pressed back, and then suddenly he pulled her mouth up to meet his and pushed into her.
His fingers were bumping over her ribcage, his touch making her heartbeat stagger. She reached up, sliding her hand through his hair, scraping his scalp. The ache inside her was beating harder and faster and louder, the urge to pull him closer and deeper overwhelming her so that suddenly she was moving desperately, reaching for him, pressing against him.
She felt a sting of ecstasy—a white heat spreading out like a supernova—and then she arched against him, her breath shuddering in her throat. As her muscles spasmed around him he groaned her name and tensed, filling her completely.
CHAPTER THREE
NOLA WOKE WITH a start.
For a moment she lay in the darkness, her brain still only on pilot light, wondering what had woken her. Almost immediately the warmth of her bed began tugging her back towards sleep and, stifling a yawn, she wriggled drowsily against the source of the heat.
And froze.
Not just her body, but her blood, her heartbeat. Even the breath in her throat hardened like ice, so that suddenly she was rigid—like a tightrope walker who’d just looked down beyond the rope.
Head spinning, she slid her hand tentatively over her thigh and touched the solid, sleeping form of Ram. As her fingers brushed against him she felt him stir and shift closer, his arm curving over her waist, and instantly she was completely, fiercely awake.
Around her the air stilled and the darkness closed in on her. Someone—Ram?—had turned off the lights in the office. Or maybe they just switched off automatically. But her eyes were adjusting now, and she could just make out the solid bulk of his desk. And strewn across the floor, distorted into strange, unfamiliar shapes, were their discarded clothes.
Picturing how they had torn them off in their hurry to feel each other’s naked skin, she felt her cheeks grow hot and she blew out a breath.
Finally they’d done it. They’d had sex.
Her skin tightened in the darkness, her heartbeat fluttering, as a smile pulled at her mouth.
Sex! That made it sound so ordinary, or mechanical. But it had been anything but that.
Beside her, Ram shifted in his sleep, and the damp warmth of his body sent a tremor of hot, panicky excitement over her skin.
Remembering his fierce, hard mouth on hers, his hands roaming at will over her aching, desperate body, she pressed her hand against her lips, her stomach flip-flopping as she felt the slight puffiness where he’d kissed her again and again.
She’d expected the sex to be incredible. But now, with his hard, muscular arm curled possessively around her waist, and her body still throbbing from the frenzied release of their lovemaking, she knew that what she and Ram had shared had been more than incredible.
It had been—she searched for a word—it had been transformative. Beautiful and wild and breathless, flaring up like a forest fire, so hot and fast that it had consumed everything in its path straight to the sea.
And then afterwards calm, a peace such as she had never known. Just the two of them glowing in each other’s arms, spent, sated, their bodies seeping into one another.
It had felt so right. He’d felt so right.
She shivered again. Ram had been the lover she’d imagined but never expected to meet in real life. Intuitive, generous, his touch had been a masterclass in power and precision.
He had demanded more from her than she had been willing to give, but she had yielded, for it had been impossible to resist the strength of her desire. The intensity of his.
Over and over he had pulled her against him, touching her, finding the place where liquid heat gathered, using his lips, his hands, his body to stir and torment her until the blood had beaten inside her so hard and so fast she’d thought she would pass out. She had been frantic and feverish—hadn’t known who or where she was. Her entire being—every thought, every beat of her heart—had been concentrated on him, on his mouth, his body, his fingertips...
A memory of exactly what he’d done with those fingers dropped into her head and she squirmed, pressing her thighs together.
She couldn’t understand why she was feeling this way. Why she had responded so strongly to a man she barely knew and didn’t even really like.
She’d loved Connor—or at least she’d thought she had—yet sex with him had only ever been satisfying. Whereas with Ram it had been sublime.
It made no sense.
But then, nothing she’d thought, said or done in the last twenty-four hours had even come close to making sense. Not least sleeping with the man who, for the next twelve hours or so, was still her boss.
Her breath felt thick and scratchy in her throat.
Oh, she knew why she’d done it.
Ram Walker was not your average man. Even just being in his orbit made her feel as if someone had handed her the keys to a top-spec sports car and told her to put her foot down. He was exhilarating, irresistible.
But she knew from sleeping with Connor that giving in to temptation had consequences. Messy, unexpected and painful consequences. And so she’d waited until now, until the day before her contract ended, to give in, believing that she was being smart.
Believing it would just be one perfect night of pure pleasure.
Her skin grew hot, then cold.
She’d thought it would be so easy. Not just the sex, but the aftermath. Maybe there might be a few awkward moments. But surely nothing too dramatic or life-changing. After all, she barely knew Ram.
It had never once crossed her mind that she would feel this way—so moved, so alive.
She’d thought once would be enough. That her body would be satisfied and she could forget him and move on.
She almost laughed out loud.
Forget him!
As if she could ever forget him.
Right now, there was only him.
It was as though he’d wiped her mind—erased every memory and experience she’d ever had. And it wasn’t only the past he’d obliterated. Her future would never be the same now either. How could it be after last night? She might not have a crystal ball, but she didn’t need one to know that sex was never going to be as good with any other man.
But what if today was the last time she ever saw Ram?
Was she really that naive? So stupid as to imagine they were done? That she could put last night in a box, wrap it up neatly
with a bow and that would be it.
Her pulse began to race.
Since breaking up with Connor she’d been so careful. She’d had a couple of short relationships, but at the first hint of anything serious she had broken them off. It had seemed safer, given her bad luck when it came to men. Or was it bad judgement?
Her father, Richard, had been charming—financially generous. But even before her parents’ divorce he had been unreliable—often disappearing without explanation, and always utterly incapable of remembering anything to do with his wife and daughter, from birthdays to parents’ evenings.
Then she’d met Connor—sweet, funny Connor—who had cared about everything from saving the planet to the trainers he wore. Miraculously, he had cared about her too, so she’d thought it would be different with him.
And it had been—for a time.
Until he’d betrayed her trust...shared the most private details of their life together over a pint in the pub. And then not even stepped up to defend her reputation.
She almost laughed, but felt more as if she was about to cry.
Her reputation.
It made her sound like some foolish eighteenth-century heroine who’d let the wrong man pick up her fan. But that was what she’d felt like. Foolish and powerless. And the fact that her supposed boyfriend had sacrificed her to impress his mates still had the power to make her curl up inside with misery.
Breathing out silently, she closed her eyes.
She’d vowed never again to trust her judgement. And with Ram she hadn’t needed to. Her opinion of him was irrelevant; the facts spoke for themselves.
Even before they’d met in that café in Sydney she’d known his reputation as a ruthless womaniser. Yet she’d still gone ahead and slept with him.
And why?
Because she’d become complacent.
She’d assumed, like last time, that the worst-case scenario would be the two of them having to work in the same building. Now, though, she could see that geography didn’t matter, and that the worst-case scenario was happening inside her head. And it was all to do with him, and how he’d made her feel.
But she couldn’t think about this anymore. Not with his body so warm and solid beside her.
Her breathing faltered.
It was time to leave.
Moving carefully, so as not to wake him, she slid out from beneath his arm and began groping in the darkness for her discarded bra and shoes. Her bag was harder to find, but finally she located it by one of the armchairs.
Clutching her blouse in one hand, she tiptoed to the door and gently pushed down the handle. There was a tiny but unmistakable click and she held her breath. But there was no sound from within the darkened office and slowly, carefully, she pulled open the door and slid through it into the empty corridor.
As she waited for the lift her heartbeat sounded like raindrops on a tin roof. Every second felt like a day, and she couldn’t shift the feeling that at any moment she would hear Ram’s voice or his footsteps in the darkness.
Pressing her forehead against the wall, she breathed out slowly. She should be feeling relief, and in some ways she was, for now she wouldn’t have to go through that horrific about-last-night conversation, or the alternative—the awkward let’s-pretend-it-never-happened version.
But she couldn’t help feeling that somehow she was making a mistake. That what had happened between them had been so rare, so right, that she shouldn’t just walk away from it.
She turned and gazed hesitantly down the darkened corridor.
Was she doing the right thing?
Or was she about to do something she’d regret?
But what would happen if she stayed?
Her heart was racing like a steeplechaser. What should she do?
She needed help. Fifty/fifty? Ask the audience?
She felt a rush of relief.
Phone a friend.
Stepping into the lift, she pulled out her mobile. It was four in the morning here, which made it two in the afternoon in Barbados. She would let it ring three times and then hang up.
Anna picked up on the second ring.
‘Hi, you. This is a surprise...’
She paused, and for a moment Nola could almost picture her friend’s face, the slight furrow between her eyes as she mentally calculated the time difference between the Caribbean and Australia.
‘Have you been pulling an all-nighter or did you just randomly get up to watch the sunrise?’
Anna’s voice was as calm as ever, but there was a brightness to it that Nola recognised as concern. And, despite everything, that made her feel calmer.
She swallowed. ‘Neither. Look, I’m not hurt or anything, but...’ She breathed out slowly. ‘I’ve just done something really stupid. At least I think it was really stupid.’
There was the shortest of silences, and then Anna said firmly, ‘In that case I’ll get Robbie to make me a Rum Punch and you can tell me all about it.’
* * *
It was not the daylight creeping into his office that woke Ram. Nor was it the faint but aggravating hum of some kind of machinery. It was Nola.
Or rather the fact—the quite incredible fact—that at some unspecified point in the night she had gone.
Left.
Done a runner.
Hightailed it.
He felt a sudden sharp, inexplicable spasm of...of what? Irritation? Outrage? Disappointment?
No. A twitch ran down his spine and, breathing out, he sat up slowly and ran his hand over the stubble already shadowing his jaw. It was shock. That was all.
Sitting up, he stared in disbelief around the empty office.
This had never happened. Ever. And, despite the evidence proving that it had, he still couldn’t quite believe his eyes.
His heart started to beat faster. But, really, should he be that surprised? Every single time he thought he’d got Nola Mason all figured out she threw him a curveball that not only knocked him off his feet but left him wondering who she really was.
Who he really was.
He scowled. In this instance that should have been an easy question to answer.
He was the one who dressed and left.
He was always the one who chose the venue, and he never slept over.
Spending the night with a woman hinted too strongly at a kind of commitment he’d spent a lifetime choosing to avoid.
His face hardened. That didn’t mean, though, that women upped and left him.
But, squinting into the pale grey light that was seeping into the room, he was forced to accept that on this occasion, with this woman, it did mean exactly that.
Which should be a good thing. Most women were tedious about their need to be held, or to talk, or to plan the next date, even when he couldn’t have made it any clearer that none of the above was on offer.
Only for some reason Nola’s departure felt premature.
Incomprehensible.
Maybe he was just overthinking it.
But why did her leaving seem to matter so much?
Probably because, although superficially she might have seemed different, he’d assumed in the end that she would behave like every other woman he knew. Only nothing about last night had turned out as he’d imagined it would.
He’d thought he was seducing her, but he’d never lost control like that.
He certainly hadn’t planned to have sex with her here, on the sofa in his office. But could he really be blamed for what had happened?
The tension between had been building from the moment they’d first met. In the restaurant it had been so intense, so powerful, he was surprised the other diners hadn’t been sucked in by its gravitational pull.
She’d been as shaken by it as him—he was sure of it—and in the lift she had responded to his kiss so fiercely, and with such lack of inhibition, that he’d never got as far as inviting her back to his apartment.
Remembering that beat before they’d kissed, he felt his heart trip, heat and hunger
tangling inside him. Watching that to-hell-with-you expression on her face grow fiercer, then soften as she melted into him, he’d wanted her so badly that he would have taken there and then in the lift if the doors hadn’t opened.
Glancing round his office, his eyes homed in on his discarded shirt and he felt suddenly breathless, winded by the memory of how he’d sped her through the building with no real awareness of what he was doing, no conscious thought at all, just a need to have her in the most primitive way possible.
Reaching down, he picked his shirt up from the floor and slid his arms carelessly into the sleeves.
He hadn’t hurt her. He would never do that. But he hadn’t recognised himself. Hadn’t recognised that fire, that urgency, that need—
The word snagged inside his head. No, not need.
It had been a long time since he had let himself need anyone. Not since he’d been a child, fighting misery and loneliness in a school on the other side of the world from his mother. Needing people, being needed, was something he’d avoided all his adult life, and whatever he might have felt for Nola he knew it couldn’t have been that.
No, what he’d felt for Nola had been lust. And, like hunger and thirst, once it had been satisfied it would be forgotten. She would be forgotten.
And that was what mattered. After months of feeling distracted and on edge, he could finally get back to focusing on his work.
After all, that was the real reason he’d wanted to sleep with her. To soothe the burn of frustration that had not only tested his self-control but made it impossible for him to focus on the biggest product launch of his career.
Now, though, just as he had with every other female he’d bedded, he could draw a line under her and get on with the rest of his life.
Straightening his cuffs, he stood up and walked briskly towards the door.
* * *
Ten hours later he was wrapping up the last meeting of the day.
‘Right, if there’s nothing else then I think we’ll finish up here.’
It was five o’clock.
Ram glanced casually around the boardroom, saw his heads of department were already collecting their laptops and paperwork. His loathing of meetings was legendary among his staff, as was his near fanatical insistence that they start and end on time.
Kidnapped for the Tycoon's Baby Page 5