And Brianna had, while I convalesced. But once I’d begun to heal, she’d sat me down and explained about my infatuation with Liz and the child we’d created. It’s not hard to see why I became attracted to her. With her lush hair, green bewitching eyes, she’s truly lovely, And even now, with her body fertile with my child, the luscious curves of her body tempt me. To touch. To taste. To possess.
“I’m glad Brianna didn’t keep your secret, love.” My hand curls around her jaw, I thumb the soft satin of her cheek. The thought my mother could and would damage her, injure our child, stabs at me. I won’t allow it, no matter what measures I need to take.
Her hands clench on her lap as her eyes telegraph desperation. “But what’s to stop your mother from spilling that secret? She can still harm you, Gabriel, destroy Storm Industries.”
“No. She won’t be able to use that secret anymore. I sent Tilly away, and she’s the only witness to the crime. Without Tilly to back up her claims, no one will take her seriously. Not after so many years of silence.”
“But something has happened with your mother, hasn’t it? Please tell me what’s going on.” Should have known she’d put two and two together, as intelligent as she is.
“My mother disappeared, Liz. We don’t know where she is. I put her under surveillance, but she went to the loo. Half an hour later when she didn’t emerge, one of the guards assigned to her broke open the door. She was gone. Best Jake can determine is that she escaped through one of the hidden passages in the castle. One we didn’t know about. Who creates a hidey hole in a loo?”
She snorts. “A person who wants to watch someone else in the nude. How could you not know?”
“It was her en suite bathroom. I never went in there. And the castle architectural plans do not include that detail.”
“But why is her disappearance a cause for alarm?”
“She wants my heir to be born of Lady Melissande because that would make her grandson a descendant of a king. But you’re pregnant with my child which makes you vulnerable. There’s nothing she won’t do to stop our child from being born.”
She picks at her fingernail polish. Is that what she does when she’s worried about something?
“Your mother is evil.”
“Yes. She is.” She’s finally beginning to see the light.
Her head comes up. She fixes me with an unwavering gaze. “But if we don’t marry, he’ll never be the heir.”
If only it were that easy. My leg’s stiffening up, so leaning on the cane I stand up, pace the floor. “You think that will stop her from hurting you? She hurt me for merely breathing, tried to break me in so many ways.” I brush fingers across my brow. I have to make Liz understand. “You’re in danger. Our baby is in danger. I have to protect you. And the only way I can do that is if you go along with my plan.”
“To move into the Cathedral Arms.”
“Yes. And to marry me.”
Ceasing the devastation of her nail lacquer, she turns to look at me. “Wouldn’t that put me in greater danger?”
“No. I can provide greater protection to a wife than a mistress.”
“I’m not your mistress! I never was.” Her tone rises.
I kick myself. I should have known the term’s a hot button for her. “Girlfriend, lover then. Whatever we were to each other, your pregnancy has changed everything. Right now, no one except family and close friends know about us. Have you thought what will happen once word leaks out? That job of yours you value so much, can you honestly tell me they wouldn’t whisper behind your back?
“They’re whispering now. I hate it.”
“But if we were engaged, married, the whispers would be of envy, not derision, as I suspect they are now.”
She stands, walks around the couch to stare out the window..
Rain pelts the glass, tinkling the surface. Gusts of wind lash branches on trees, bending them to its will.
She runs her hands up and down her arms, as if she’s cold. “I don’t want to be a subject of gossip.”
Wanting to lend her my warmth, I take a couple of halting steps, circle my arms around her. “I’m afraid that can’t be stopped, not anymore. It comes along with the territory of being with me.”
A shiver runs through her. “What about my law studies, my career?”
“You can continue law school. Neither our engagement, nor marriage would stop that. Let’s come away from the window, love.”
Rather than heed my advice, she turns in my arms, puts a hand on my chest. “You wouldn’t treat me like a sweet little wife and imprison me in a golden cage, would you, Storm?”
His brow knits. “Wherever did you get that idea?”
“From you! At the time I thought you were joking, but now.”
“Liz, if you married me, you’d be a viscountess. Do you realize the power my name would invoke? The doors it would open for you? You could do anything, be anything you wished.”
“I want to get my law degree and work as a corporate lawyer. That’s what I want.”
“And you could still have that. As my wife, you’d gain entry into the top law firms her in the States or in London. I’d make sure of that.”
My mobile rings, interrupting our discussion. “Jake.”
“Storm.” He answers in his deep American voice. An ex-Navy Seal, weapons expert, used to command. I hired him eight years ago when one of our projects came under fire, literally. He runs a tight operation, hiring only the best and most competent people in the business, most of them ex-Special Forces and British SBS.
“I’m putting you on speaker so Liz can hear. I’ve explained things to her. Anything new?” Even though he’s in Brazil watching over my sister, he’s got his pulse on the entire grid.
“Ms. Watson.”
“Hi.” Her voice sounds shaky. No surprise. I’ve laid quite a lot on her.
“Have you found her?” I ask.
“No. She withdrew a sizable sum from her bank, all in cash, and transferred over a million pounds to a Swiss account. The Swiss refuse to cooperate. They won’t even admit receipt of the money.”
“They are famous for their secrecy. I don’t expect we’ll get much out of them.”
“I agree. Our operative, Sarah Simmons, has also gone missing. My guess is your mother bribed her to help her escape.”
I don’t respond. Not much I can say.
“I’m sorry, Storm. She came with a spotless record, passed every background check. I don’t know what I missed. I’ll resign, if that’s what you wish.”
“I don’t want your resignation.” I grit out. “I want you to find my mother. You can beat yourself black and blue later. Where do you think they’ve gone?”
“My guess. France.”
He’s right about that. It only takes two hours by Eurail to reach Paris. But she could have taken a plane, jumped on a ferry. Too many ways to travel to find her easily. “Keep looking. Focus on the continent, but don’t discount London or other places in the UK.”
“Hard to direct the search from Brazil, so Brianna and I are flying back. Knowing what her mother is capable of, Bri’s as jumpy as a Mexican jumping bean.”
I allow myself a tight smile. “Keep her safe, Jake.”
“I always do.”
“Call me when you land in England or if you hear anything beforehand.” I click off.
Liz’s eyes are wide and luminous. She’s biting down on her lip. And she’s trembling. I can’t tell if it’s from the cold or fear.
I hate what this is doing to her but I push through. “Convinced yet?”
“I need to think about it.”
“Fair enough. Take a bath, take a nap. We’ll order dinner when you wake up. The hotel has quite an extensive in-room menu. I can personally vouch for the chateaubriand.”
She laughs.
“What’s so funny?
“The day we met. I asked for a steak dinner, a bath and a massage. Don’t you remember?”
I swallow hard. My gaze cuts to t
he floor. I was hoping to avoid this conversation for some time, but it seems we must address my lack of memory now. “No, I don’t.”
A shadow skitters across her gaze. “Did you forget me, Gabriel? Forget us?”
I take a deep breath, release it. "I only remember a remnant here and there, but mostly . . . I don’t recall much. Maybe in time, I will."
Her face crumbles. Pain registers across her features.“So your interest in me is because of the child I carry. Nothing more.”
I capture her face, rub a thumb across her wet cheek. “No. Not just because of the child. I need you. Badly.”
“Don’t say that. Please. Don’t lie to me.” Her lips tremble. Her soft underbelly’s showing. She’s hanged in so tough this entire day, and now she’s crushed by the thought my only interest lies in the babe.
A well of tenderness rises up within me. “I’m not lying. I take her hand, drive it to my cock which throbs hard with need. “See.”
She chokes out a bitter laugh. “What is that supposed to prove? You react that way to every woman, Storm.”
“No, I don’t. Since the accident, only you can get a rise out of me.” Not only does she carry my heir, but she’s given me back my virility. The warmth of her hand lights a fire within me, and I harden to a painful degree. I must be inside this woman. Now.
Chapter 11
______________
Elizabeth
HIS LIPS TAKE MINE in a hungry, voracious kiss while his cock thrums beneath my hand, a pulsing, living presence between us. He might be hiding things from me, but he’s not lying about this.
“Come, let me show you the intensity of my need.” Turning, he leads me deeper into the suite. “Wish I could carry you, but my leg won’t allow that much.”
“I don’t need to be carried, Storm.”
He opens the bedroom door where a bed fit for a king awaits. Pulling me into him, he drops a kiss on my throat before he unbuttons the front of my blouse. After he strips me of the garment, his nimble fingers go to work on the zipper of my skirt. When it swishes to the floor, I’m left wearing nothing but a blue lace bra and matching panties.
Insecure about my baby belly, small though it might be, I fidget while he takes me in. Does he still find me attractive? Obviously, his hard erection thinks so, but I want to see that look in his eyes, the one that says ‘I can’t wait to fuck you silly.’
His eyes take on the hue of a darkening storm. “You’re beautiful.”
“Am I?”
He goes for his tie. “You know you are.”
I know no such thing. But if he believes it, who am I to argue with him? Letting go of the breath I’ve been holding, I bat away his hand. “Let me. I want to do this.”
His eyes crinkle at the corners. “Do you, love?”
A wingback chair rests at the corner. Meant to be a reading nook, it now serves as the repository of his clothes after I rid him of his tie, jacket, shirt. The scar from the time he was shot in Honduras blazes in the upper right of his chest, but amazingly he does not have any new scars from the car accident. I know I will find a different story on his leg.
I push him to sit on the bed, bend down to rid him of his textured leather mocs. Some animal donated its skin. “What are these made from?”
“Crocodiles. Venetian crocodiles.” That crooked grin I love so much pops up on his lips.
I laugh as I toss his shoes behind me. “Lift.” Belt, trousers join the pile on the chair. Only his boxer shorts remain. His hard on impressively peeks out from the top. He’s magnificent, as always. And exactly the way I remember him from my dreams.
Lying right alongside him on the bed, I run my hand up his hard pecs, bare except for a blond triangle of hair in the center of his chest. I don’t know how, but he’s even more cut than before. “You’ve been working out.”
“Doctor’s orders.”
“Rehab?”
“Yes.”
My hand roams down his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath. I breathe out a purr of total contentment. I’d dreamed about him, hungered for the taste, the scent of this man for so long, and now he’s here allowing me to enjoy everything that is him. And everything that is him is sheer perfection.
He takes my hand, brings it up to his lips, kisses it. “May I return the favor?”
“Not yet.” I go back to exploring him, twirling his chest hair with my fingers, tweaking a nipple.
He jerks. “Bloody hell. I don’t know how much longer I’ll let you manhandle me, love. I’m all ready hard enough to pound nails.”
“Good things come to those who wait, Storm,” I say with a wicked smile of my own. I roll him over. It’s only then I see the long, angry scar on the back of his calf. I gently run my hand over it. “It must have hurt quite a bit.”
He turns his head to gaze at me. “A fair amount. Yes.” And that’s as much as I’ll get out of him.
“May I touch you now?” he asks.
Since I’m dying to feel his hands on me, I nod and sit back on my heels. “Yes.”
He rises as well. One handed he snaps off my bra, tosses it somewhere in the room. My boobs have grown larger, a result of the pregnancy. He doesn’t seem to mind, but then he wouldn’t remember. His hot gaze roams over me, taking in every inch of my skin, before his hand goes to my panties. I brace for what’s sure to come.
“Lift.” When I comply, he rips them off.
Fully content, I sigh.
He’s not slow to notice. “Like that, do you?”
“Yes.”
A devilish light glints in his eyes. What is he planning to do to me? Much as I did, he pushes me down until I’m lying spread-eagled on the bed.
He kisses me again, his mouth a hot delight to my senses. I missed him so much, missed the spicy man taste of him. And he’s so very good at kissing. He nibbles the corner of my lips, his tongue licks the seam. I open and give him the entrance he seeks. He love bites the tip of my tongue. Heat shoots straight down to my pussy and my legs tremble. If I’m this turned on by a simple kiss, what’s going to happen when he does more?
Those big hands I love so much cup my breasts, weigh and measure them. He licks up the side of one before he curls his tongue over one tip. When he nips it, a shot of heat streaks right to my pussy and I gasp.
“You like that too.”
I cup his cheek. “I like everything you to do to me. You might want to move on, though.” I haven’t done this for a long time, and I’m about to go off. Even though he’s hardly done anything to me. I clutch the sheets and breathe deep in an attempt to calm down.
His mouth travels between the valley of my breasts, down my belly, to my mons.
“Gabriel.” I gasp. How does he know that’s exactly what I want when he doesn’t remember me, remember us?
His clever tongue licks the outside of my pussy, suckles my pearl. Oh, dear, sweet lord. I writhe beneath him, from the pleasure his mouth brings. There’s no way I’m calming down from this.
“You’re exquisite.”
Only he has spoken those words to me, but then he’s the only man I’ve ever allowed to enjoy me this way. I squirm beneath his adroit mouth, his agile fingers, which now are finding their way into my sheath. His touch is electric, but it’s been months of dying with lust for this man. If he doesn’t put his cock in me soon, I will go off like a skyrocket. And I don’t want to do that until he’s deep in me. “Fuck me, Gabriel. Please.”
“Good things come to those who wait.”
Damn. Hoisted by my own petard. “You suck.”
He laughs. “Yeah, I do.”
I breathe in her intoxicating scent, and I grow harder. Like that’s even possible given my hunger for her. I may not remember her, but I remember this feeling. This desperate feeling. No matter how close we are, I can never get enough of her taste, her scent, her.
I wanted to go slow, for her sake, for the baby’s sake. But that’s not what she wants. I insert a finger into her wet pussy. She screams, when I work in a
second one. Seems like I worried for nothing. She’s hot and wet and definitely is ready for this.
Her hips jerk, almost dislodging me. I’m forced to hold her down to keep my mouth on her. Her legs tremble, and her sheath ripples around my fingers, both a precursor to orgasm. How could that be? I’ve barely touched her, suckled her, tasted her. But her body doesn’t lie. And I don’t want her to climax until I’m deep inside.
I grip her arse, and with one mad surge, thrust gladly into her. Bloody hell. She feels like heaven itself. Tight, hot, wet. Her cunt ripples, massaging my length. I pull out a smidgen of an inch and slam into her again. We both groan at my effort.
She curls her hand around my head and pulls me down for a kiss, suckling my bottom lip into her mouth, love biting it. “Do that again.”
I grab her arms, hold them over her head. For one second, panic flashes in her eyes.
“Hey, it’s just me.”
“Yes, yes it is.” Her tension eases as she hooks her legs around my hips. “Harder, deeper, Gabriel.”
I grab her arse, pound deep, desperate to please her, please me. Her sheath grips my cock, ripples around me. Her skin’s grown feverishly hot, and the scent of her? Bloody hell. Mindless with passion, with lust, I pump, pump, pump into her. My mouth curls in a rictus of pleasure/pain. Have I ever fucked a woman when it’s been this good? No. Of that, I’m sure.
She comes with a high keening cry. It doesn’t take long for me to follow her.
Sweaty, heart pounding, I collapse on the bed. Careful not to crush her, I hold her tight to me while we both catch our breaths. Her eyes are closed but when she opens them, I swear there are stars there. Stars and a world of love.
She’s mine. No one will take her away. No woman. No man. Not even God.
Chapter 12
______________
Elizabeth
IN THE MORNING, we order breakfast which we eat in bed. I hate the crumbs so he licks them off me. We bathe and make love in the shower. It’s like he can’t get enough of me. Understandable, if he’s only gotten his libido back. Making up for lost time, I guess.
Storm Ravaged (Storm Damages 2) (Storm Legacy) Page 7