Harlequin Presents February 2013 - Bundle 1 of 2: Sold to the EnemyIn the Heat of the SpotlightNo More Sweet SurrenderPride After Her Fall

by Sarah Morgan

‘You’ve already let your guard down. Now you’re just desperately trying to assemble it again.’

  She let out a soft huff of laughter and lifted her wry, slate-blue gaze to his. ‘That’s not working, is it?’

  ‘No. And I don’t want it to work.’ He didn’t know what the future held, and he still felt that old fear, but he did know he wanted to keep trying. He hoped she did too.

  She glanced away. ‘I don’t, either.’ She nibbled her lip, and he thought about reaching out to touch her. Comfort her. He stayed where he was. The physical aspect of their relationship would be dealt with later. He hoped. ‘I’m scared,’ she said softly, still not looking at him. ‘I’m so scared of losing myself again. Of losing control, of not being able to change.’

  ‘Every relationship contains an element of loss of control, but that doesn’t mean you have to lose yourself completely. A relationship should make you better, stronger. More of yourself rather than less.’ He smiled wryly. ‘Or so all the chat shows and women’s magazines tell me.’

  She arched her eyebrows. ‘You watch chat shows and read women’s magazines?’

  ‘All the time.’

  She laughed, and he smiled. Miraculously, it felt okay again. ‘Sorry,’ she said softly, and he shook his head.

  ‘This isn’t about sorry.’

  ‘What is it about, then?’

  ‘Trust. You’re still learning to trust me. I’m still trying to earn it.’

  ‘You have earned it, Luke.’

  He didn’t feel as if he had. He’d let her down too many times already. You’re always letting people down. The people that matter most.

  That sly inner voice mocked him, reminded him of his failures. The locked door, his mother’s silence. His own. He was still living in the long shadow of that moment, and he hated it. So much of Aurelie’s life had been defined by one man’s selfish actions. Had his life been similarly defined? Destroyed?

  Could he rebuild it again, now, with her?

  ‘We land in an hour,’ he said, trying to smile, and felt his heart lift and lighten when Aurelie smiled back.

  * * *

  Aurelie had never been to Hong Kong before, and even though she’d seen photos she wasn’t prepared for the sheer scale of the city, the skyscrapers clustered so close together, right to the edge of Victoria Harbour, piercing the sky.

  She still felt raw from the conversation with Luke on the plane. This honesty was a killer. And when she caught him looking at her with a kind of sorrowful compassion, she froze inside. Part of her ached for the understanding he offered, and yet another part scrambled away in self-protection. Did she really want to be understood, all the dark parts of herself brought to glaring light?

  He knew the worst, at least in broad strokes. He knew that she’d gone into a relationship—an awful, unhealthy relationship—out of pathetic loneliness and fear, and he understood, if not in the tawdry particulars, how she’d reacted when it had ended. The many, many bad choices she’d made.

  And he’s still here.

  The voice that whispered inside her wasn’t sly or cynical for once. It was the still, small voice of hope, of truth. He’s still here.

  She’d told him he’d earned her trust, but she wasn’t acting as if he had. She wasn’t, Aurelie knew, acting as if she trusted him at all.

  Could she act that way? Deliberately, a decision? Was change not so much a wishing or a hoped-for thing, but a choice? An act of will?

  ‘You ready?’ Luke called back to her and, nodding, Aurelie stepped from the plane.

  The day passed in an exhausting blur of meetings with various important people, touring the city. As if from a distance, Aurelie took in the Peak, the Jade Market, the Giant Buddha. She chatted and smiled and laughed and listened, yet all the while she felt as if she were somewhere else, thinking something else.

  Can I do this? Can I act differently with Luke, even when every part of me struggles to protect myself?

  After a lengthy dinner with many speeches and toasts, they boarded a yacht for a pleasure cruise in the harbour. Aurelie watched Luke circulate through the guests, and realised with a pang that he looked more relaxed than when she’d seen him in New York or Manila. He looked happy.

  Acting differently was a choice. An act of will. It had to be. Deliberately she walked across the deck to join him. He stopped his conversation to smile at her briefly, then resumed describing his plan to incorporate more local artists and artisans in the Hong Kong store. He spoke with authority, with a kind of restrained pride, that made Aurelie’s heart swell.

  She loved this man. She was terrified, but she loved him.

  A few minutes later they’d been left alone, and Luke placed his hand on the small of her back as he guided her to the railing. ‘Look.’

  She looked towards the shore, and saw that the skyscrapers were shimmering with lights.

  ‘It’s the Symphony of Lights. It comes on every night at eight o’clock.’

  ‘Amazing.’ And it was amazing, to be standing here with this wonderful man, the air warm and sultry, the sky lighting up all around them. She turned to smile at him, felt the smile all the way through her soul. And Luke must have felt it too, must have seen it, because he drew her softly towards him and brushed his lips against hers. A promise. A promise Aurelie intended to keep.

  They rode home from the party in a limo, their thighs brushing, the silence between them both comfortable and expectant. Aurelie followed Luke into the lift, up to the top floor where they had separate suites. She stopped at his door, and he looked at her, eyebrows raised.

  Aurelie felt her heart beat hard, her mouth dry. She lifted her chin. ‘I want to come in.’

  Luke rested his keycard in the palm of his hand, gazed at her seriously. She stared steadily back. This was a choice. ‘We don’t have to rush things, Aurelie.’

  ‘I’m not rushing things.’

  He gazed evenly at her, assessing, understanding. Then he nodded. ‘All right. But I have one condition.’ He unlocked the door and opened it, and Aurelie followed him in, her heart thudding even harder now.

  ‘And that is?’ she asked when he hadn’t said anything, just shed his jacket and loosened his tie.

  Luke turned to her, his eyes glinting, everything about him sexy and rumpled and gorgeous. ‘My condition,’ he said, taking off his tie, ‘is that we do this on your terms.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘WE...WHAT?’ Aurelie blinked. ‘My terms?’

  Luke nodded, his eyes still glinting, his mouth curving in a smile even though she could sense how serious he was. ‘Yes. Your terms. I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened before and I realise I handled everything wrong—’

  ‘Everything, Luke? I think that might be a slight exaggeration.’

  ‘Slight,’ he agreed wryly. ‘But I was the one in control, wasn’t I? I told you that from the beginning. I said I’d set the pace, and I’d call it off if I didn’t think it was working.’

  Warily she nodded, folded her arms. She wasn’t sure where he was going with this. ‘Your terms.’

  ‘Yes, and they weren’t the right ones.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘From what you’ve told me, and from what I know about you, control is kind of a big thing.’

  She prickled, resisting any kind of analysis. ‘You think?’

  ‘I do.’

  She let out a slow breath, forced herself to relax even though every instinct had her reaching for armour, for the defence of mockery. ‘Well, who doesn’t want to be in control, really?’

  ‘No one, I suppose,’ Luke agreed quietly, ‘and especially not someone who had no choice about where to live or when to move or what school to go to. Or even, really, how famous she wanted to be.’

  She felt that first, sudden sting
of tears and shook her head. ‘Don’t.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I can’t stand being pitied, I told you that—’

  ‘I know, and that’s a kind of keeping control, isn’t it? You keep insisting that everything was your choice because if it wasn’t you’re a victim and you can’t stand that thought.’

  No, she couldn’t, and even though she’d never articulated it to herself, Luke had. Luke understood her—far too well. She managed a very shaky smile. ‘These are so not my terms.’

  ‘I know, Aurelie. I’m breaking my own rules here, but I need to say this.’ He took a step closer to her. ‘As soon as the clothes start coming off, you can call all the shots.’

  She let out a wobbly laugh. ‘Promise?’

  ‘Cross my heart.’ He took another step towards her, reached for her hands. ‘What you had with Pete Myers was not a relationship.’

  Her hands tensed underneath his. ‘It felt like one.’

  ‘No, it didn’t. You have nothing to compare it with, so trust me on this, okay?’

  Trust. It always came down to trust. She blinked, swallowed. Willed herself to keep her hands in his, not to pull away. For once. ‘So what was it, then?’

  ‘Abuse.’

  ‘No.’ Now she did pull her hands away from his. She turned away from him, wrapping her arms around herself as if she were cold. She was cold, but on the inside.

  ‘How old was he when he first kissed you?’

  ‘Why does the age difference even matter? Plenty of people—’

  ‘Fifty?’

  ‘Forty-nine,’ she snapped. ‘That doesn’t matter.’

  ‘It doesn’t always matter,’ Luke agreed quietly. ‘But in this case, when you were young, impressionable, utterly dependent on him—he must have known you thought of him like a father, Aurelie. And he knew you had no one else in the world. He took advantage of you—’

  ‘That doesn’t make it abuse.’

  ‘I won’t argue about semantics. What I’m trying to say is you can’t judge any other relationship by what happened with that man. It wasn’t healthy or right. Whether you acknowledge it or not, he took all the control away from you, even if you think you let him. Your responses weren’t normal because the situation wasn’t normal or fair. At all.’

  She didn’t answer because she had no words. She realised, belatedly, she was shivering. Uncontrollably. She hated everything Luke was saying. She hated it because she knew, in a deep and dark part of herself, that he was right.

  And she couldn’t stand that thought. Couldn’t bear to think so much of her life had been wasted, used. She’d been such a pathetic victim.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Luke said softly. ‘I’m sorry for what happened to you.’

  She didn’t answer. Words wouldn’t come. She blinked hard and turned around. ‘So my terms, right?’

  Luke hesitated, his gaze sweeping over her. ‘Do you really think this is a good—’

  ‘My terms, you said—’ she cut across him, her voice hard ‘—didn’t you? So why are you still trying to take control?’

  He stilled. ‘I’m not.’

  ‘No?’ She took a step towards him, amazed at how angry she felt. Not at Luke, not at herself for once. Yet she still felt it, that hot tide washing over her, obliterating any rational thought. ‘All right, then. Here are my terms. Strip.’

  He blinked. ‘Strip?’

  She nodded, her jaw bunched. ‘Strip, Luke.’

  For a second he looked as if he was going to object. Refuse. Aurelie put her hands on her hips, her eyebrows raised in angry challenge. She could hear her breathing coming hard and fast.

  ‘Okay,’ he said quietly, and began to unbutton his shirt.

  Aurelie felt a little shiver of disbelief. He was actually obeying her. She was in control. She watched, her eyes wide, as he finished unbuttoning his shirt, shrugging out of the expensive cotton. She loved his chest. Loved the hard planes, the way that broad expanse narrowed to those slim hips.

  ‘Your belt,’ she snapped. ‘Your trousers.’

  His gaze steady on her, he undid his belt. Took off his trousers.

  ‘Socks?’ he asked, eyebrows raised, and she felt an almost hysterical laugh well up inside her. She nodded. Luke took off his socks. He only wore a pair of navy silk boxers. He waited, and so did she, because hell if she knew what she wanted now.

  ‘Go lie down on the bed,’ she said, and heard the waver in her voice. She wasn’t sure about this any more. She’d started out angry and strong but now she just felt confused. Sad too, and dangerously close to tears.

  She followed Luke into the bedroom and watched as he sat on the edge of the bed, swung his legs over. Lay down and waited, hands behind his head.

  She let out a trembling laugh. ‘You look a lot more relaxed than I would.’

  ‘I am relaxed.’

  ‘Really?’ She sat on the edge of the bed.

  ‘What do you want, Aurelie?’ Luke asked quietly, and she knew, she knew that whatever she said she wanted, he would find a way to make it happen. He’d put himself completely in her hands, and she understood that that was what trust was.

  Luke trusted her.

  And she wanted to trust him.

  ‘I want,’ she said, her voice shaking, ‘you to hold me. Just hold me.’

  And he did, pulling her gently into his arms. She curved her body around his, craving his solid warmth. And as he stroked her hair she did the one thing she’d never, ever wanted to do.

  She cried.

  Sobbed, really, ugly, harsh sounds that clawed their way out of her chest and tore at her throat. She wrapped her arms around Luke and he held on tight as she sobbed out all the loneliness and pain and confusion she’d ever felt.

  Just when she thought she might get a handle on it, she felt new sobs coming up from deep within her and after fifteen minutes or an hour—she had no idea which—she finally managed to wipe her blotchy face and laugh shakily.

  ‘I’m a complete mess.’

  ‘You’re beautiful.’

  She laughed again, the sound even shakier. ‘You cannot mean that.’

  ‘Don’t you know by now I never lie?’

  She tilted her head to look up at him and saw the truth shining in his eyes. ‘How,’ she whispered, ‘did I ever deserve someone like you?’

  ‘I could ask the same thing.’

  She shook her head. ‘I don’t see how.’

  ‘You’re selling yourself short, Aurelie. You often do, you know.’ Tenderly he wiped the damp strands of her hair away from her face, tucked them behind her ears. ‘You make me laugh. You challenge and thrill me. You stun me with your talent and your courage. Of course I could ask the same question.’

  She shook her head, still incredulous, and tenderly Luke kissed her eyelids, her nose, and then her mouth. ‘I do ask it,’ he whispered against her lips and, without even thinking about it, just needing to, Aurelie kissed him back. Softly, yet with intent. With promise.

  Luke hesitated, just for a second, but long enough so she whispered, ‘My terms.’

  His hands stilled on her shoulders. ‘Which are?’ he asked softly.

  ‘I want to kiss you. And you’ve got to kiss me back.’

  ‘Those are terms I can live with.’ She felt him smile against her mouth and then she kissed him again, deeper this time, exploring him in a way she never had before, because she hadn’t dared or dreamed of it.

  Now she had the time, the desire and most of all the control to kiss him at leisure. In depth. She rolled him onto his back and propped herself up on her elbow, kissing every part of him that she wanted to: his lips, his eyes, the curve of his neck, the line of his jaw. His ear, his shoulder, the taut skin of his chest. She heard him groan softly and she felt a thri
ll of—no, not power. This wasn’t even about power. It was about pleasure and trust and love.

  His response made her own need flare deeper, and she kissed his mouth again, deeply, rolling on top of him. Luke placed his hands on her hips to steady her and as Aurelie pressed against him she felt that need flare again, white-hot, burning so brightly she couldn’t think for a moment.

  ‘Touch me,’ she whispered. ‘Touch me back.’

  ‘Where?’ Luke whispered, and she felt another thrill of pleasure just at the question.

  She took his hand and slid it up along her side, placed it on her breast and closed her eyes. ‘There.’ And when Luke took that touch and made it his own, his fingers stroking her softness, she let out a shudder. ‘And here.’ She took his other hand and placed it on her tummy, dared to slide it lower, and another shudder ripped through her as his hands slid under her dress, edged her underwear aside. ‘Yes...’ She pressed against him as his fingers moved deeper, pleasure shooting like sparks through her whole body. There was a freedom in this, and a wonder. She felt a kind of amazed joy, that she could feel so good, that a man could make her feel so good. That Luke could.

  ‘I want to take off my clothes,’ she managed.

  ‘With or without my help?’

  She heard a smile in Luke’s voice and smiled back. ‘With.’

  He tugged the zip down her back and she shrugged her shoulders so the dress slid off her. Luke managed the rest, and her bra and panties too. She was naked, and with one swift tug of his boxers he was naked too.

  ‘There.’ She spoke on a sigh of satisfaction and Luke smiled as he stretched out next to her.

  ‘Now what would you like?’

  She laughed, because it felt so amazing to be asked. ‘Hmm...let me think.’ She touched his cheek, his jaw, the smooth hardness of his chest. Slid her hand lower to the dip of his waist, and then slowly, wonderingly, wrapped her fingers around the length of his erection. ‘More of the same, really,’ she whispered, and on a groan Luke kissed her.

  They didn’t say much of anything any more; she didn’t need to give instructions and he didn’t need to ask permission. This was what sex was supposed to be, she thought hazily. Making love. Moving in silent and loving synchronicity, hands and mouths and bodies, all of it as one together.