Defiant Mistress, Ruthless Millionaire

by Yvonne Lindsay

  A uniformed steward stood near a carved wooden bar and deftly popped the cork on a chilled bottle of champagne as they arrived on the main deck.

  “I took the liberty of ordering some champagne. You’re not driving anywhere tonight.” Josh spoke softly in her ear, the low pitch sending a hum through her body.

  “Thank you. I don’t believe I’ve tried this brand before.”

  “Then you’re in for a delight.”

  Josh took the two glasses from the steward who melted away into the cabin interior, leaving the two of them alone on the main deck. He handed Callie one glass and gently tapped his cut-crystal flute against hers.

  “To getting to know one another better,” he said, the simplicity of his words belying their subtext.

  “To getting to know you,” Callie responded and tipped her glass to take a sip of the golden liquid.

  He was right. It was a delight to taste and the gentle fizz in her mouth mirrored the bubbling sensation of lightness that suffused her body. She was glad she’d dressed up for this evening. The fittings and accoutrements surrounding them on this massive statement of luxury and wealth deserved no less.

  As she lifted her hand to take another sip of the champagne, the fabric of her gown gently grazed her nipples, sending a shock of awareness through her again. She’d never felt so conscious of her body before, nor so attuned to her companion. Although, truth be told, from the minute she’d set eyes on Josh Tremont, even knowing what he was purportedly capable of, he’d attracted her on a level that was purely instinctive.

  Josh gestured toward the curved leather seats arranged at a low coffee table, fixed to the deck.

  “Would you like to sit down?”

  In response, Callie walked across to the chairs, conscious with every step of Josh only a few centimetres behind her. She could feel the heat of his body like a wall against her back, even though he didn’t touch her.

  The steward returned with a silver tray with artfully arranged canapés displayed on it.

  “Just leave them on the table,” Josh instructed.

  “Certainly, sir. The chef asked me to let you know your main meal will be ready in half an hour.”

  “Thank you. That’ll be all for now.”

  With a small respectful bow, the steward withdrew.

  Despite the low-pitched purr of the vessel’s engines belowdecks, indicating that there had to be others on board, at least to guide it through the waters, Callie felt as if the world had narrowed down to just her and Josh. The sensation made her both nervous and excited at the same time. Desperate to fill the void of conversation between them, she commented on the appetisers before them.

  “Here, let me choose for you,” Josh said with a smile.

  Without waiting for her reply, he lifted a sliver of crostini topped with tiny shrimp in a spread of what looked like cream cheese and chives. Obediently, Callie parted her lips, as he leaned across and slid the morsel between them.

  Josh watched as Callie slowly chewed and swallowed. Something hot and tight clenched deep inside him as her tongue swept her lower lip.

  “That was delicious,” she said, her voice husky.

  “Another?” he managed, through a throat that had suddenly grown thick with desire.

  His plan had been to woo her tonight. Slowly, deftly, with every sensual weapon in his considerable arsenal, before bringing the evening to its inevitable climax. He would have smiled at the unintentional pun, but all he wanted to do was skip the pleasantries and cut straight to the chase—or, more particularly, the main stateroom that awaited them belowdecks.

  He forced himself to clamp a lid on his needs, to slow his reactions to her. To savour every second of this intricate dance. But it proved a great deal more difficult than he had imagined.

  “My turn first.”

  Callie surprised him, taking the initiative, and his advantage from him, as she selected another canapé and held it to his lips. Advantages in human affairs, as in business, could easily be wrested from the inexperienced, he decided, as he took the bite-sized food into his mouth, his lips closing around her forefinger and thumb, and his tongue sliding up to suckle between them.

  Her startled gasp broke the heaviness of the air between them as she withdrew her hand and cradled it in her lap. He couldn’t have said, later on, what it was that she’d given him to eat but he could describe the expression on her face in intimate detail.

  Callie’s eyes looked huge, her pupils dilated. A faint hint of colour swiped her cheekbones and mirrored itself on the smooth, slender line of her neck. Beneath the filmy black fabric of her dress, her chest rose and fell, as if she couldn’t draw quite enough air into her lungs.

  She was the first to break eye contact, and he acknowledged the silent victory with a surge of triumph. Oh, yes, tonight would be spectacular. She was so responsive, so open. In the world in which he lived, such transparency was a novelty, one to be savoured.

  There’d be no faking with Callie. He’d know with every sigh, every shudder, every heated flush over her skin, exactly what she was feeling and how much she liked it. The thought was intoxicating, far more so than the excellent champagne.

  It was time to turn down the heat a little, though, he decided and he turned to general conversation to offer some respite to the cacophony of need that threatened to derail his legendary cool.

  “You were a bit nervous on the flight out. Is flying a problem for you?” he probed as she took a sip from her glass.

  He watched as she slowly replaced her glass on the table, noted how the sun gilded the light sheen of moisture on her lips. So much for turning down the heat. He fought with the urge to lean across and trace that shimmer with the tip of his tongue and then to delve into the moist heat of her mouth and find out how she tasted with the hint of vintage champagne on her tongue. It would be so easy.

  “I’ve never been a relaxed flyer. No real fear, but just that sense of not being in control. That unnerves me.”

  “You don’t trust easily?”

  Josh reached out and took one of her hands in his, and lightly stroked his thumb across the inside of her wrist. Her pulse responded beneath his touch with a sudden flutter.

  “No.”

  She pulled away from his touch, ostensibly to help herself to another canapé but he knew it was to distance herself from his question. And what she didn’t say intrigued him.

  “But you did trust the Palmers?”

  Her eyes sharpened. “Why do you ask that?”

  “Well, you spent time in one of Irene’s homes and you’ve worked for them ever since. That implies a certain level of trust.”

  “Does that bother you?”

  “No, not at all. Do you trust me?”

  “Should I?” she hedged, meeting his gaze briefly before her eyes flitted away again.

  Josh let one side of his mouth draw up in a half smile. “What’s not to trust?”

  “What, indeed? Maybe I should ask the same of you? Do you trust me?”

  “Would I have hired you if I didn’t? Don’t worry, Callie, I trust you.”

  Her eyes flew back to his. Silently he cursed himself for letting the mood of the evening grow too clinical. General conversation was one thing, but right now he preferred the loaded atmosphere that had undulated between them. An atmosphere heavy with promise, one he intended to deliver on.

  “Dance with me,” he commanded, rising to his feet and offering his hand.

  “Is that what’s necessary right now?” Callie parried, even as she lay her hand in his.

  “Oh, yes, it’s absolutely necessary.” Josh smiled in return. “What would a beautiful evening, out on the water like this, be if we didn’t make the most of every second?”

  He drew her close against his body. He was more than semi-aroused, a state he’d grown used to in her proximity, and he wasn’t afraid for her to know it. He sensed the moment she recognised his desire for her, and felt her stiffen in his arms before relaxing once more. As their steps
moved in perfect synchronicity across the deck, he made sure she understood that this dance was only the beginning of what they would achieve together tonight.

  Her breasts brushed against his chest—their movement confirming his suspicion that she wore no bra. It was all he could do to restrain himself from undoing the knot of fabric at her nape and letting the pieces drop to expose her to his sight, his touch.

  The light spice of her fragrance teased his nostrils. It was a headier perfume than the one she wore in the office, which was so light it was a mere hint of femininity. But this perfume, it spoke of so much more.

  Josh bent his head and inhaled her scent more deeply, letting his lips graze across the curve of her neck where it met her deliciously bare shoulders. Callie trembled at his touch, but he knew it was not in fear. The tips of her breasts hardened against his shirt. The knowledge that only two layers of fabric separated their skin was both a torment and a thrill.

  He traced the cord of her neck with the tip of his tongue, punctuating its track with small kisses. Fire roared in his veins as she moaned with pleasure, and he captured the sound with his mouth, his lips closing over hers, his tongue gently caressing the soft membrane within with intimate care.

  He was rock hard, his body now trembling with suppressed need. With one kiss she drove him to the brink as no woman had ever done before. He wanted her with a passion that bordered on compulsive. He dragged his lips from her mouth and rested his forehead against hers.

  “How hungry are you?” he asked, his voice little more than a growl.

  “For dinner?” Callie replied, a tiny hitch in her voice. She shook her head ever so slightly. “Not very.”

  “For me?”

  “Starving.”

  Seven

  W ith her clamped to his side, Josh made a swift call to the kitchen to demand that dinner be delayed until further notice. Callie knew that on some level she should be embarrassed. He’d all but stated their intentions to the crew as to what they’d be doing, but instead all she could think of was that there would be some relief to the pounding ache that suffused her.

  Josh led her through the interior of the boat and down a flight of stairs. At the bottom he turned and let her go only long enough to grip the gleaming brass handles on a pair of polished wooden doors and thrust the doors open.

  The stateroom was sumptuous in its appointments. Light spilled in from the windows on either side, giving the impression that they were totally alone, afloat on the Waitemata Harbour in their own cocoon of luxury. Callie felt a thrill of anticipation ripple through her as she surveyed the massive bed sprawled in front of her. A thrill that was rapidly followed by a surge of fear.

  What was she thinking? This was craziness personified. She’d worked for Josh two and a half weeks, had only met him once before that, and now she was going to bed with him? She’d never behaved so impulsively, nor wantonly, before. The dichotomy between her careful lifestyle over the past few years and what she was about to do slammed home.

  “Josh?” she said, her voice betraying her hesitancy.

  “Don’t think,” he said, taking her into his arms again and lowering his lips to hers. “Just feel.”

  As he kissed her, she clung to reason for a fleeting second, then was swept away on a tide of want she’d never experienced so deeply before. Every nerve in her body, every thought in her head, focussed on Josh Tremont and the way he touched her.

  Broad hands swept across her naked back, his fingers tangling in the trail of the ties of her halter. In seconds she felt the fabric of her dress begin to loosen, in a heartbeat she knew he held each tie in his hands. Josh straightened and looked at her.

  “I’ve been wanting to do this all evening.”

  Callie laughed softly, the sound unexpected in the taut atmosphere of the room. “So you haven’t been wanting to do it long then,” she teased.

  But then all thought of humour fled as Josh smiled and lowered his hands, drawing the material in a sensuous slide across her sensitised skin. Breath shuddered through her lips as he bared her to his view, as his eyes darkened to indigo and his jaw clenched, his lips compressed in a straight line.

  He said nothing, did absolutely nothing—but look. Uncertainty swept through her until he lifted his hands and gently cupped the pale globes of her breasts, his thumbs skimming the hardened, rose-tinted peaks, his touch drawing a cry of need from her mouth that echoed through her entire body. His fingers tightened more firmly on her and she pressed against his hands, suddenly eager for more.

  Josh dipped his head and captured one distended nipple with his lips, nibbling gently at the pebbled tip until Callie thought her legs would buckle and send them both to the lushly carpeted floor.

  “You like that,” he said, his breath a tantalising caress across the moisture on her skin.

  “Oh, yes,” she groaned.

  “You want more?”

  “Please, more!”

  As Josh laved her other nipple with the same attention, he found the zippered fastening of her dress. In an instant the fabric slithered down over her hips and down her legs to fall in folds of darkness onto the floor. Josh stepped away from her, his eyes raking over her near nakedness, the impressive bulge in the front of his trousers saying more loudly how she affected him than any word or gesture could.

  Despite the fact that she was dressed solely in black lace panties and high-heeled sandals, Callie felt invulnerable. She wasn’t the only one lost on this wave of attraction. She wasn’t the only one to throw reason to the wind and to want to indulge entirely in sensation.

  “One more thing,” Josh said, reaching for the clip that bound her hair.

  As her locks cascaded down, he swept her up and off her feet, closing the distance between the door and the bed with two long strides. He ripped back the covers with one hand and tumbled her onto the crisp cotton sheets. Callie reached down to remove her sandals.

  “Leave them,” Josh commanded as he tore at the buttons on his shirt and then unfastened his belt and trousers.

  Callie heard the thud of his shoes as he dragged the shirt off his shoulders and pushed his trousers and underwear down in an economy of movement that spoke volumes about his need for her.

  And then there he was, gloriously naked, his arousal proudly jutting from a nest of dark hair at his groin. Callie’s hands twisted in the sheets as her eyes roamed his body—the taut abdomen, the bunched muscles of his chest. She wanted to touch him. To lick and taste the golden planes of his skin, to cup his manhood in her palm and to stroke the swollen tip until he was near bursting. But Josh clearly had other plans.

  He wrapped his fingers around her ankles and eased her legs apart, slowly easing his body between them. His hand skimmed down the length of one leg to the hollow at her groin where he pressed a hot wet kiss before stroking back down her thigh, her calf, until he held her foot in his hand. He bent her knee and hooked her foot around his waist before doing the same to her again on the other side.

  This time when he pressed his lips to her skin she thought she’d fly off the bed. Energy coiled in a tight knot at the apex of her thighs, begging for his touch, but still he held himself carefully away from her. She reached for the scrap of lace that lay between her and the freedom his touch promised but Josh grabbed her hands, holding them down at her sides.

  “Not yet,” he murmured. “They’re the only thing keeping me under control right now.”

  “But what if I don’t want control. What if I want you. Now.”

  Callie lifted her hips in supplication, driven by a longing desperate to be assuaged.

  “Like this?” he taunted as he leaned forward, and lowered his hips to hers.

  Through her panties she felt the hot, hard length of him. She squirmed against him, locking her ankles together so he couldn’t immediately pull away, and relished the pressure of his hardness against her yearning flesh.

  “Oh, yes,” she sighed.

  “Soon. But first…”

  Josh ke
pt a firm hold on her hands as he lowered his chest to hers. She felt the solid heat of his body before he allowed himself to brush the tips of her breasts. She fought against his hold. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, to hold him to her, length for length, to absorb his heat, his desire. She strained upwards, her head tilting back, exposing the curve of her throat and he trailed hot sucking kisses along her skin, along the line of her collarbone and, finally, drawing each nipple in turn into his mouth, rolling its hardness with his tongue.

  Jolts of electricity pulsed through her with each pull of his mouth. Damn, she was close. She’d never been so close without direct stimulation before. Callie flexed her hips, desperate to reach the pinnacle that loomed just on the horizon, but instead moaned in protest as Josh slowed his assault on her senses and began to work his way back down her body.

  Finally, he let go her hands, replacing his hold on her hips instead, tilting her pelvis up. Callie let her legs drop from his waist and fall open. Her hands now gripping his shoulders as he covered her mound with his mouth, blowing hot air through her panties and against her most sensitive place, and just about launching her into orbit at the same time.

  It didn’t matter what he did, where he touched, she ignited. Every particle in her body attuned to his actions, every sense in synch with his touch. Her mind focussed only on him.

  He tugged at her panties, finally pulling them down off her body. Then, painstakingly slowly he took off her sandals, pressing kisses against her instep as he released each foot.

  Callie never knew she had so many erogenous zones. One touch, one caress, was all it took and she was burning up. Rendered incapable of any thought other than what came next.