Give a Man a Bad Name
Page 17
An indrawn breath was his only reply as he strode over to her and caught her shoulders in a painful grip. ‘Do you enjoy acting judge and jury?’ He shook her roughly with every word. ‘I can understand it when you thought I’d played fast and loose with Andrea, but now that you know I didn’t—that you were totally wrong about me—how come you’re still judging me as if I have no moral scruples?’ Flinging her aside, he turned away from her. ‘Isobel, my so-called fiancée, happens to be my cousin,’ he stated in a flat voice. ‘She works in New York as a model and will shortly be marrying the doctor who took out her gallstones six months ago.’
Marly wished she could sink into the ground. Alex had a right to be angry with her and there was nothing she could say in mitigation of her behaviour. She just had to eat dirt!
‘I’m an idiot, Alex. I suppose I’ve grown so used to thinking the worst of you that I can’t think the best.’ She moved closer to him and put a tentative hand on his back. He tensed at her touch but did not turn. ‘You were pretty quick to judge me when you came to my apartment,’ she went on. ‘These days men and women often share accommodation but it doesn’t mean anything. Tony and I and Jenny Hunter—she works at 3S too—bought the place jointly, though I’ll probably sell them my share when they get married in three months’ time.’
Alex swung round, his face alight. ‘You mean you aren’t lovers?’
Not waiting for her retort, his mouth found hers in a fierce kiss that demanded her surrender. Willingly she gave it, her body burrowing into his the better to feel his wild arousal, to breathe in the scent of his desire.
With a muffled groan he picked her up in his arms, strode with her into the bedroom and placed her on the quilted king-size bed.
Coming down beside her, he drew her close. ‘I almost didn’t come to the reception today,’ he confessed against her lips. ‘This past month I’ve alternated between loving you like crazy and hating you like mad.’
‘That describes my emotions when I was with you in Thailand.’
‘When did you discover you had mixed me up with my cousin?’
‘Four weeks ago—the day you left for San Francisco. That was the first time I met Alexander. I nearly flew out to see you but he said you had a hectic schedule and—’
‘I’d have made time for you, and it would have saved me a month of aggro.’
‘It was heartbreaking for me too,’ Marly whispered, tenderly touching her fingertips to the dark shadows beneath his eyes. ‘Are you sure, Alex?’
Amazed, he pulled back, the better to see her face. ‘I proposed to you when we were in Phuket, so why should I have changed my mind?’
‘Because I...’ She hesitated, then plunged on. ‘When you asked me to be your wife, you admitted that marriage was the last thing you’d had in mind, but you couldn’t see any other way of having me. Well, I want you to know that—that that’s no longer true. I’m not Marly, the old-fashioned traditionalist, but Amalia Bradshaw, a modern woman who loves you enough to trust you and to live with you on your terms.’
‘I see.’ Alex stroked his hand over her silky black hair. ‘What I said then was like the final gasp of a dying man! In my personal life I’d always been my own boss and never had to account to anyone else, and the idea of sharing my freedom with a woman scared the hell out of me, which was why I made that stupid remark. But when you said you wanted to think it over and I faced the thought of being rejected, I realised that life without you would be a prison of loneliness, whereas life with you would enable me to enjoy every hour of every day.’
A poet could not have put it more lyrically, yet there was one more thing she had to ascertain. ‘Is it me you love or the girl I was pretending to be? I’m definitely not the submissive type, you know.’
‘Thank goodness for that! Your agreeableness was the one thing that flummoxed me, for I often felt you were biting your tongue rather than saying what you really meant.’ He tilted up her chin and scanned her face. ‘Do I have to say anything else to convince you of my love?’
Marly placed her palms together and lowered her head to them in the last wai she would ever make to him. ‘Sometimes actions speak louder than words, Mr Hamilton.’
In silence he found the zip at the back of her dress and slowly undid it. Soon she was lying naked beside him, and he caressed her firm breasts with their pink pointed nipples, her rounded stomach and her curved hips, scantily covered by black lace. Smoky grey irises darkened as he placed his mouth to the soft mound of dark hair at the junction of her legs, murmuring deep in his throat as he felt the tremor that went through her.
Filled with love, Marly began undoing the buttons of his jacket. She slipped it off his shoulders and then removed his shirt, the silk fabric no smoother than his skin. She had never undressed anyone, and as her fingers fumbled at the narrow leather belt around his waist she could not stop the warm tide of colour that rushed into her cheeks.
Aware of her embarrassment, he did it for her, though as his nude body covered hers desire for him became paramount and all she could think of was becoming a part of him. Sensuously she rubbed her breasts across his chest, her nipples hardening as she felt the surge of his arousal. Her fingers moved to it, and as she touched him he brought his mouth down on hers, his tongue hot and demanding, becoming ferociously aggressive as passion gathered strength.
Alex was a superb lover, teasing, tantalising, caressing with mouth, teeth and tongue until they were both inflamed to fever-pitch and only the ultimate surrender would satisfy.
Parting her legs, she wound them round his thighs as he lay between hers. Instantly the rock-hard length of his manhood plunged into her and she gasped and cried out, moaning with joy as he thrust in and out in ever-decreasing movements until he was pounding at the very heart of her, touching the innermost core with a rod of fire that vibrated into a single screaming crescendo of fulfilment that exploded into a rapturous, shuddering climax.
In the aftermath of intimacy, they lay supine in each other’s arms. ‘I wish I’d flown to the States to see you,’ Marly said soberly. ‘I can’t forget those awful four weeks.’
‘Me neither,’ he agreed, kissing the top of her head. ‘But it was worth the wait.’
‘I seem to remember you telling me that waiting simply made it quicker!’ she teased.
‘Was I too quick for you?’ he asked instantly.
‘I can’t remember. Perhaps if you jogged my memory...’
They dissolved into laughter, and as it ceased, Marly glanced at her wristwatch and gave a little cry. ‘Oh, Alex, we’ve missed Andrea cutting the cake and throwing her bouquet!’
‘Never mind,’ he consoled, rolling off the bed and taking her with him. ‘Let’s get dressed and go and tell her you’ll soon be throwing your own!’
ISBN: 978-1-4592-8403-6
Give a Man a Bad Name
Copyright © 1993 by Roberta Leigh
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