by Sara Wood
Or to touch those high, rounded breasts and to feel their peaks tighten and swell beneath his fingers…
Her hands had stilled and she was gazing at him with enormous, infuriatingly appealing eyes. He could hardly breathe. Pressure was building in his lungs.
‘Get on with it,’ he said.
And dragged breath into his aroused body. He knew what she was, how much he hated her. And yet she had invaded every pore, flowed in every vein, her face and wheedling eyes and her sensual curves filling his head with an irresistible lure. Which he must resist—or use her as she meant to use him.
‘I am trying to,’ she whispered.
Maddy’s hands slid soapily over her body. She felt languorous and seductive. Someone groaned—it could have been her. Opening her eyes, she found herself lost in awe of his dark and brooding eyes. Her hands covered her breasts in a belated modesty.
Her eyes asked him to take one stride forward so that her arms could encircle his strong neck and she could kiss away his despair. She found herself struggling for breath. But she needed to speak. He was in such anguish and she wanted to ease it.
‘Dex,’ she whispered tenderly. ‘I know why you’re so angry. But give in to your grief, don’t bottle it up. There’s no shame in what you feel. You have gone out to the Quinta day after day and that nightmare scene of blackened earth has been driven into your brain. That terrible, soulless world must have dominated your mind, waking and sleeping,’ she soothed as he stood there without moving a muscle, totally transfixed by her words. ‘It would crack even the hardest heart to see the devastation—and you love the farm so much. It’s terrible that it’s not the same place any more. Even the sounds are different. Not a single bleat from a goat or sheep,’ she reflected. ‘No bustle and scurry of hens or the whinny of ponies. Just the machinery, droning on and on relentlessly. I know how you feel—’
‘Yeah? How?’ he grated, his agonisingly pained eyes flashing like jet.
‘Because I knew how my father felt when one of his plants died after he’d nurtured and tended it,’ she answered passionately. ‘Because I remember how animated you used to become when Dad talked to you about the nursery and his plans for it. I know that the loss of your stock is more than merely a commercial blow—’
‘That’s enough!’ he rasped. And he turned his back on her, feverishly collecting up her clothes.
Miserable that he was rejecting her attempts to help, she slowly soaped her breasts. Astonished, she found that they were swollen and tender. Her fingers swept across her nipples and starbursts of pleasure rocketed through her body, bringing a hot flush of shame and embarrassment to her skin.
Looking up guiltily, she found that he had turned to watch, sardonic and glowering, his eyes slivered with derision. Excitement flashed through her like lightning, stimulating every susceptible inch.
Again she wrapped her arms around herself in protection, horrified by the wicked longings that urged her to slide herself against him and demand to be kissed.
‘I want…’ Her throat closed at the blazing light in his eyes, the force of electricity that suddenly charged the air between them. She tried again. ‘I want…a…towel, please,’ she stumbled incoherently.
Tight-lipped, he strode out and reappeared a moment later with one. She stepped out, frantically trying to cover herself, and he flung the towel at her then dragged the tub out to empty it. The pans on the stove filled the room with steam.
He filled the tub and then his glance met hers again. It seemed they couldn’t take their eyes off one another. With slow and heavy movements she sought to fight off the sensual lassitude that had loosened her body and she did her best to rub herself dry. But with Dexter watching her so avidly she found her hands slowing until they were exacerbating her arousal instead of briskly easing it.
Holding her gaze, he undid his belt. Stepped out of his trousers and then his briefs. Maddy didn’t turn away. She felt panic and a delicious anticipation coiling in her stomach as he stepped into the tub and sat down.
He wanted her. That was more than obvious. For a moment she’d seen how fiercely aroused he was, and then she had hastily looked away, retaining an image of male beauty that made her body ache.
‘Wash my back, would you?’ he husked harshly.
As if in a dream, she tucked the towel around her securely and knelt by the side of the tub. Picking up the soap, she kept her eyes fixed on his torso, too nervous to look elsewhere.
His back was beautiful. Quite perfect; a broad triangle of gleaming muscle narrowing to a small waist and hips. Her hands learned him, lovingly lathering his shoulders and marvelling at the powerful bulge of his biceps.
His hand lifted to catch hold of her face, caressing it wonderingly. And then his mouth was crushing hers and everything in her head seemed to break into fragments.
Somehow she was in the water again, naked, her legs wrapped around his back. His kisses rained on her lips, fierce and passionate, his hands gently stroking her quivering breasts.
‘Dex!’ she whispered, and found her mouth invaded by his tongue, which moved so erotically that she thought she might faint with pleasure.
It seemed that she was on fire, the urges of her body making her slide close to him and gasp at the hardness that reared against her. His head dipped and she moaned as his mouth closed over each nipple in turn, fanning the flames in her hungry body till she was forced to writhe sinuously in her desperate need.
‘Harlot,’ he growled, his eyes blazing with fires of their own.
She blinked, startled and bewildered, and then sank, gasping, in his arms. For he had touched her where she most longed to be touched, his slippery fingers moving with wickedly expert delicacy whilst she whimpered with the indescribable pleasure.
She seemed to experience an explosion inside her, her body elongating as it stretched sensuously against his. And she felt an overwhelming surge of power and need, kissing him fiercely, not caring that his hard, demanding mouth might bruise her soft lips or that his teeth seemed clenched in an incomprehensible anger.
With an imprecation muttered hoarsely under his breath, he pulled her upright and carried her wilting, throbbing body to his bedroom, throwing her on the bed as if she were truly the harlot he imagined.
She had to tell him, she thought dazedly. And then his body covered hers and she knew this was all that she wanted, all she’d ever dreamed of. A man as strong and dynamic as Dexter and who loved the land with an overwhelming passion. Who could kiss her stupid and touch…
‘Oh, there!’ she whispered, bucking beneath him.
‘Maddy,’ he muttered into her mouth. ‘Maddy, Maddy!’
He paused, shaking. Lazily she opened her eyes in an impatient question.
‘What is it?’ she slurred.
‘Are you safe?’
She nodded dumbly. There was no chance that she would get pregnant. For a brief moment his eyes narrowed in scorn and she was scared, thinking he meant to draw away. So she arched her body, wantonly moving her hands over her breasts. And he gave a groan, his mouth sweetly tugging, fingers remorselessly tormenting.
Warmth filled her. A hard, silky, pulsing warmth that made her bite her lip as her loins melted around it and the core of her body tightened greedily in welcome.
‘Yes,’ she mumbled, her head thrashing on the pillow. ‘Yes!’
He felt his whole body jerk in primitive response, found himself surrendering to the rhythm that united them. He wanted to think. But there was too much emotion ricocheting around his head and body, all of it provoked and aroused by the sweetly scented, sensual woman who was crying out his name and rendering him senseless with hot, carnal desire.
His mind blanked. There was nothing but the sound of their panting and their moans, the never-ending pleasure that filled every corner of his empty body and brought it to shocking, exultant life.
He cried out too. Clasped her hard, kissed her till he felt dizzy, tried—dear heaven, how he tried!—to take her into himself
, to join her flesh with his so that every physical barrier had been removed and all that remained was the liquid flow of his heart into hers.
She shuddered throughout her body, gave a gasping cry and became still just as he erupted inside her, the sweetness of it almost unbearable. Muttering her name quietly to himself, he held her in a close embrace.
And he knew with a sinking feeling of dismay that he had given something to her that was not only physical but also an essential part of him.
It had all been a terrible mistake. He should have remained cold and detached. Anything other than a purely physical response was wasted on her.
Gently she stroked his face and, like the fool he was, he wanted it to go on for ever. To pretend that she wasn’t a grasping little whore, who’d been prepared to prostitute herself for money, but the tender and loving person he had once known.
His teeth clenched. Who was he kidding? He rolled over and glared at her, determined to kill his emotions stone-dead.
‘Whatever will Grandpa say?’ he drawled with deliberate cruelty. It gave him a bitter pleasure that she gasped and flinched in dismay. ‘Sex without marriage,’ he mocked. ‘Tut-tut. I think your plan has backfired, Maddy.’
But he couldn’t help kissing her. That mouth pouted so effectively, luring him with its plushness. And he felt himself weakening, the bones in his body liquefying as she moaned and wrapped her body skilfully around his.
‘You’re wrong. My plan worked,’ she whispered sadly.
‘Sure,’ he croaked, extricating himself and trying to contain the shafts of desire stabbing at his chest. ‘Here we are, married.’
‘Dex!’ she breathed in distress. ‘You don’t understand…’ She choked and didn’t finish the sentence.
‘We had sex. That’s all.’
Cold with anger at himself, he flung himself from the bed and twisted a towel around his waist.
Maddy took a deep breath, her eyes wounded. For a moment she’d thought they’d shared something special. And she’d been terribly, stupidly wrong.
She felt sick that she’d been so easily seduced. He must be thinking that she was a push-over.
Face aflame with humiliation, close to tears of misery, she began unravelling herself from the tangled sheets, intending to make a dignified exit.
‘I don’t know why you’re so angry,’ she said jerkily, swinging her legs to the floor. ‘You used me—’
His hand arrested her progress. ‘Yes, and why not? You were intent on using me!’ he snarled. ‘You wanted me for my money.’
His words lanced into her like a sword. She’d got herself into this with her silly plan. And he’d had no qualms about taking what he’d wanted.
‘And you wanted sex!’
‘Sure I did. It was on offer, wasn’t it?’ he derided.
Her lip trembled. For the first time in her life she had felt pure, perfect bliss. But for him it had been lust, the corruption of human love. And he thought carnal desire would be sufficient for a marriage.
With a sob of horror, she escaped to her bedroom, hastily washed herself with cold water from the ewer on the wash-stand and pulled on her blue dress. She flung her case onto the bed and began to sort out her things.
In jeans and T-shirt, he stalked in, a glass of wine in his hand. Her heart did a flip and she had to force herself not to fling herself into his arms so that she could feel him, touch him, be close to him again. Her brain was turned, she thought glumly.
‘So. You’re packing,’ he said, his tone as cold as ice.
Her head whirling with hopeless longing, she turned away to conceal her wince of pain.
Tough it out, she told herself. She’d had her adventure and some of it had been fun. Time to set the record straight, ask a few questions and make her way home.
She shuddered. It alarmed her that the thought of the cramped flat and her grandfather’s lashing tongue should be even more unappealing than usual. But she had no choice. She’d managed before, she would now. And she was a different person.
‘Observant of you,’ she scathed uncharacteristically. ‘Must be those laser eyes.’
‘Watch that tongue. It’s like razor wire,’ he marvelled, his eyes taunting.
‘I want to ring my grandfather,’ she told him coolly.
‘That mercenary old man!’ With black brows lowered in a hard line above stony eyes, he scowled at her. ‘Did you know that I never wanted to marry you, Maddy?’
She froze. There was an odd expression on his face as if he wished he hadn’t said that. But the truth was out now.
‘You rat!’ she husked. It had only been lust, then.
His mouth twisted. ‘Grandpa will be very disappointed in you.’
With an angry jerk of her head she stood her ground. ‘He’ll have no cause! I can tell him that you and your grandmother had no intention of any alliance. You wouldn’t have married me if I’d been drop-dead gorgeous with ten million in the bank and a fluorescent halo!’ she stormed. ‘Do you know what I think? That you both wanted to humiliate Grandfather and me for reasons I don’t understand—’
‘No. That’s not true.’ He put down the glass and folded his arms decisively, leaning against the door jamb, his long legs crossed at the ankle. ‘Grandmama wanted the marriage. She…she has reason to feel regret that she didn’t support you and your grandfather. She genuinely felt sorry that he is in such poor health—’
‘We don’t want your pity!’ she flared.
‘You have it, nevertheless,’ he said sternly. His eyes burned into hers. ‘Both of you. I am sorry you’ve had a hard life. But that was no reason for me to let myself be trapped in a loveless marriage. I didn’t want to marry you, Maddy. I don’t want to marry anyone.’
‘Feeling sorry for me didn’t stop you from planning to seduce me from the start,’ she began indignantly.
‘That’s not true, either. Not…to begin with, anyway. I swear on my mother’s grave that initially I didn’t want any involvement at all.’
‘And…then you did,’ she scathed. ‘All that chest-to-chest dancing. Those sultry looks and the things you whispered in my ear—’
‘I’m human. You were—are—very provocative.’ When she eyed him doubtfully, he took a sip of his wine. And to her surprise, he said gruffly, ‘Let me get you a glass. I think it’s time to put the record straight.’
Perplexed, she followed him into the living room. Accepted the wine and sat down on the sofa. At least they were talking. There was so much she needed to know before she left. She cringed back into the deep cushions when he came to sit next to her but he leaned forwards, brooding over his own glass.
‘Explain,’ she prompted him coldly.
There was a tense pause. She watched him turning the glass in his hands, his lowered eyes intent on the swirling ruby liquid. Then he licked his lips and began to speak in a low, quiet tone that had her straining towards him to hear what he said.
‘Since my arrival after the fire I have been trying to organise the rebuilding of the Quinta, as you know. I’ve been up to my neck in architects’ plans, site visits, site clearance, temporary offices, obtaining and housing the seed and plant deliveries…’ His hand swept back his hair in a gesture of impatience. ‘And all the while I had nothing but an ear-battering from my grandmother about getting married and producing an heir.’
‘I sympathise,’ she muttered.
He grunted. ‘I was particularly annoyed that she’d colluded with your grandfather and you, apparently offering me on a plate.’ His mouth twisted wryly. ‘My marital status is none of her business and I’d told her so, repeatedly. But she went ahead with this ridiculous scheme to marry me off. Consequently I was overjoyed when you turned up dressed unconventionally and behaving without any decorum whatsoever.’
Maddy detected a faint smile lurking at the corners of his mouth. ‘Glad I delighted you,’ she said sarcastically.
‘More than you know,’ he muttered under his breath. And whilst she was trying to work tha
t out, he continued in a louder voice, ‘As you know, Grandmama was appalled. I thought it would teach her a lesson if I pretended I was smitten.’
Her mouth opened and shut in astonishment.
‘What? You…you were kidding all the time during that dinner?’ she gasped.
He nodded. For a moment or two she stared at him and then she burst into laughter, which soon turned to hysterics.
‘Oh,’ she cried weakly, ‘that’s so funny!’
They’d both been frantic to keep each other at arm’s length! If only they’d known at the time—the dinner would have been even funnier…
Weak with laughing, she collapsed and held her aching stomach, her eyes sparkling with humour.
‘Oh, I hurt! It’s priceless! The joke’s on both of us, Dex,’ she giggled. ‘I never had any intention of marrying you either!’
‘Yeah. And my name’s Tinkerbell,’ he said scathingly.
‘Hi, Tinkerbell,’ she chuckled.
His eyes simmered with indignation.
‘You had that book. Something about snaring your man.’
‘That’s right,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Pick it up. Read it. See what it says,’ she challenged. ‘The instructions suggest that a prospective bride should dress conservatively. Be demure. Subservient, unquestioning. Agree with everything your prey says.’ Her eyes danced merrily. ‘Would you say that describes me?’
His mouth curled. ‘Hardly.’
‘There you are, then! I studied it—and did the opposite because the last thing I wanted was to snare you.’
‘Sure. The moon’s made of cheese.’
‘No, don’t you see?’ she said in delight, leaning forwards, her hands hugging her knees. ‘Grandfather went on and on at me as well, until I agreed to come here. But I wasn’t ever going to marry you.’
‘Why not?’ he shot. ‘You knew I was rich.’
‘But the whole idea was loathsome to me!’
‘Thanks.’
‘No,’ she said hastily. ‘I mean the idea of marrying someone purely for money. So to please Grandpa but to stay single, I had this…’ she laughed ‘…this cunning plan!’