Falling for Alexander (Corkscrew Bay #2)

by Claire Robyns

  She shouldn’t trust his motives, shouldn’t believe he was as helplessly overcome as she was. That nothing mattered more than exploring this attraction further, not the charade she’d played, nor the irreconcilable differences that had turned them against each other before they’d even met.

  Shifting out of his space, she lowered her gaze to stare rigidly at the floor. There’d be no dampening the yearning in her voice while she looked into those eyes. “We’re in no position to be making any beginnings.”

  “Precisely why I’ve reconsidered my mind.” Black designer trainers moved into her line of view. “I want you in my bed, Kate.”

  The way he said that, his voice rough with grit and gravel, buckled her knees. Desire arrowed into the pit of her belly with a hot ache.

  Slowly, her gaze lifted up the length of his body, savouring every inch. She couldn’t help the intense yearning. The effect of Alexander was beyond her. That didn’t mean she’d give in to it.

  She fisted her hands at her sides, nails digging into fleshy palm to keep it real.

  Does he really want you in his bed, with the same fever consuming you? Or did that kiss simply peak his interest and now he’s decided you’ve not yet paid your dues in full.

  “That’s not going to happen unless I give you something first,” he continued when her eyes finally met his. “You’re getting your Easter egg hunt.”

  “You’re opening Darrock grounds to the town for Easter?” she murmured in confusion and disbelief. A moment later, understanding creased her brow. “You’re bribing me to sleep with you?”

  The outrage that should have flared inside her, however, was noticeably absent. She’d do anything for the town…almost anything. She wouldn’t do this. But—and she was trying so desperately not to think this, pushed it down, again and again—why not do this for herself?

  She groaned. Probably aloud. She was losing it completely.

  “You’ll get your Easter egg hunt regardless.” A grin reshaped Alexander’s mouth. “I’m opening a door, cara, but I’m not dragging you through.”

  His hand came to her chin, his thumb stroking her lower lip, strumming the longing and want and urges threatening to succumb. “You’ll have to step across this threshold on your own.”

  How did he…?

  The outrage finally surfaced, stiffening her spine.

  She jerked her chin out of his grasp and she was learning. Her pulse still raced, she still tingled from head to toe, but she met the steamed grey passion in his eyes with a hardened look.

  “Let me get this straight,” she said in a surprisingly level voice. “The one is not dependant on the other? You’re committing Darrock Castle for this weekend?”

  “On the condition that you coordinate the event,” he said.

  “I’m not on the town committee,” she protested.

  He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Come over this afternoon and we’ll finalise the details.”

  They both knew the invitation was more complex than that.

  I want you in my bed.

  I’m opening a door.

  Now it was up to her. Did she step over the threshold or not? She needed time to think. “I’m busy this afternoon. How about tomorrow?”

  “I leave for the States in the morning,” he said firmly, as if he could take or leave her decision, as if everything had to be on his terms or not at all, “and I won’t be back until next week.”

  His gaze pinned her, toasting her from the inside out.

  All the reasons she needed to have her mind made up before she spent an entire afternoon alone with this man, otherwise she had no doubt he’d make it up for her.

  “Should I expect you at noon?” He arched a brow at her. “We’ll discuss the arrangements over lunch.”

  She was not a doormat. “Marge and Mrs. Carrey will be with me.”

  “No, they won’t.”

  “They’re on the planning committee,” she said sweetly. “We can hardly finalise anything without them and I’m sure you want everything to run as smoothly as possible.”

  “You misunderstand, Kate.” He leaned in, his jaw brushing her cheek, sending warm shivers cascading over her skin. “I don’t give a damn about the Easter egg hunt. You are all I care about. You are the only reason I’m temporarily giving up my home.”

  He took a step back, and then another, reaching behind for the doorknob. The intensity with which he studied her through those heavy-lidded, sleepy eyes branded her with his intent even before he spoke again.

  “I want you,” he drawled, his voice so thick, the hunger bared, “and I want you alone.”

  Kate stood there long after he’d left, the wall supporting her hollow legs, her mind blown by the slow realisation that Alexander had been falling with her all along. Helplessly drawn, reason shattered around the impossibility of them, hopelessly falling without the ability to caution where or how hard they might land.

  She didn’t have to trust his words, or what she saw in his eyes, or the way her body responded to his touch.

  With one single action, he’d given her everything she needed for now.

  He’d given up his preciously guarded privacy. Even if only for a day.

  He’d yielded where it hurt him most, affected him the deepest, to his very core.

  For her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Alexander couldn’t remember when last a woman had occupied him so thoroughly. Correction. If it had ever happened before, he would have remembered. She was the heat coiled low in his abdomen, the restless energy in his limbs. She was the quick punches that struck at odd intervals when his mind lit on something she’d said or done.

  He’d gone into yesterday, fully prepared to remain repulsed by what and who Kate Hadley was. He should be slamming up those walls she seemed so convinced he lived behind. But, yesterday, he hadn’t seen a callous reporter whose conscience stopped at their by-line. And he’d looked damn hard. What he’d seen was a beautiful, sexy woman pushing everyone’s cause except her own.

  He wasn’t blinded to her faults. She’d made rash judgements and acted poorly on them. She’d also opened up to him in a surprisingly honest manner, placed her vulnerability into his safe-keeping.

  No, he wasn’t blinded. But, Dio, he’d started the day off resolved to tear her down and Kate alone, simply by being who she was, had flipped that determination on its head.

  He wanted all of her.

  He wanted the passionate woman who melted in his arms. The innocent woman who hadn’t learnt how to guard her secrets. The woman driven by hot-headed impulses instead of calculated motivations.

  He wanted the imperfect woman with her all too human faults and her rash convictions, with her hot body and beautiful heart and gorgeous mouth and impassioned impulses.

  He was playing with fire.

  Tempting disaster.

  His natural aversion to the media had deep roots, vindicated too thoroughly to be easily overcome, even for a woman he desired as badly as Kate. But this particular fault lay with him and he’d not hold that over the woman who’d captivated him, the woman he couldn’t walk away from. He’d simply have to find a way to reconcile the woman with his aversion to her chosen profession until this madness had been sated.

  At five minutes to twelve, he buzzed the entrance gates open and made his way outside to wait in the gravel driveway that circled around a gargoyle fountain at the front.

  He had no doubt she’d come, if not for him, then for her beloved town. And that was as far as he’d push his advantage. When they made love, it would be him and only him she wanted. He wouldn’t have the damn town in bed with them.

  The rattle of her Jeep reached him long before the olive green vehicle came into view, navigating the driveway at a crawl. He imagined her gaze drinking in the splendour of indigenous bush and forest that wrapped the west wing of the castle and spread up into the mountain, the spectacular setting that had grabbed his fascination three years ago. The acres of magnificent peace
and quiet that had healed his sister and soothed his soul, inspired him to finally finish composing the piece he’d started just before Helena’s breakdown.

  He broke into a stride as the Jeep pulled up alongside the fountain. Kate was too quick, the door swinging open and long, bare legs sliding from the high seat before he’d reached her. She’d changed into a different sundress, a scrap of pale blue with spaghetti straps, a buttoned V that dipped between the valley of her breasts and skimmed her thighs. Not the kind of dress you wore on an overcast day with an intermittent drizzle that couldn’t decide what it wanted to do.

  A lazy grin spread, loosening his jaw, lacing his veins. She’d dressed for him, not the weather. “Hello, Kate.”

  Her gaze, however, skipped straight over him and lifted to the limestone masonry at his back. “Alexander,” she said, her voice filled with nostalgic awe. “Hello.”

  “Did you come to see me or the castle?” he asked, partly amused, partly not.

  Her gaze dropped to meet his with a challenging flash of blue. “Actually, I came to discuss the Easter egg hunt.”

  He waved a hand over the forecourt grounds. “Your committee will have access to this area from Thursday morning for whatever they need.”

  “Thank you.” She blinked, and her eyes softened to the blue of a summer’s sky. “I spoke to Marge after you left and she’s so excited. The news has spread across town by now, I’m sure.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “Yeah, right.” She twirled about, surveying the area. “We usually get an ice-cream van in for the day… and set up mini-races on the lawn.” She twirled back to wrinkle her nose at him. “Is that okay? The children are really careful to not ruin the grass.”

  “They can’t do more damage than a helicopter,” he said, chuckling at the sudden interest sharpening her gaze. “The manicured lawn makes for a decent helipad.”

  She looked at him in silence, twisting her lower lip between her teeth.

  “What?” he probed, although he probably didn’t want to know where her intrepid mind had taken that.

  “You own a helicopter?”

  He shook his head. “Some of the artists I collaborate with travel down from London or fly in from the States. The closest airport is Penzance and they don’t always appreciate the ambling country drive.”

  Her expression crumpled in what resembled relief. “Of course… Musicians and singers.”

  “As opposed to?”

  “You seriously don’t want to know.”

  “They come here to work and respect the privacy I afford them,” he said, worried he’d revealed too much. Why had he?

  A subconscious test to see what popped up in her paper next week?

  Maybe.

  And why not?

  It was one thing to play with an open flame, but plain stupid to do so without an extinguisher on hand. He wasn’t a fool, too naïve to take precautions before this went any further than a one-night stand.

  “Do you have any idea what a big scoop that is?” she groaned.

  His jaw stiffened. “I expect this to stay between us.”

  “Relax,” she said, smiling. “It is a scoop, even you can acknowledge that. The town would be titillated by what’s happening in our backyard. But I’m not going to say anything, okay? I wouldn’t betray any confidence you share with me, and if you don’t believe that, well…” Her smile faded and her voice dropped to a whisper. “Then I shouldn’t be here.”

  “I wouldn’t have told you if I suspected otherwise,” he said, the tension rolling off his shoulders. Not even a lie. He did trust her. He was a trusting man with an insurance policy, that was all.

  “Anyway,” she breathed out, as if releasing some tension of her own, “where were we?” She turned in place as she spoke. “The ice cream van, the races… Oh, yes, Gregg always puts up a tent for his pasties and it wouldn’t be a Corkscrew Bay event without the Donnaster sisters flipping their pancakes.”

  She paused to study him for a moment. “We do appreciate this, Alexander.” Her tone gentled, sweet, entirely genuine. “Stop me if you feel like I’m taking over your home.”

  “I won’t be here,” he reminded her. “You and your committee are welcome to do as you please in the grounds I’ve indicated.”

  “We won’t overstep the boundaries,” she promised.

  “Then that’s settled.” He dug into his back pocket for his wallet and withdrew his agent’s business card. “This is the name and number of my land estate agent. He lives in St. Ives, but has assured me he’ll be flexible to any meetings you wish to hold before Saturday. He’ll be here to open the gates and oversee the activities.”

  “Oh.” She took the card from him, her slender fingers brushing his with an electrical spark. “We’re done, then?”

  “Not nearly, piccola.” He moved in beside her, pressing his hand to the small of her back, propelling her toward the courtyard that ran up alongside the kitchen and utility entrances. “There’s still plenty of undiscovered territory for us to explore over lunch.”

  He unlatched the wooden door and followed her into the half-acre orchard enclosed within the courtyard, his heated gaze admiring her from the tumble of her blonde hair to those shapely legs.

  “That goes both ways, Alexander,” she said, having apparently just digested his words.

  The number of ways he planned to take her far exceeded two.

  Her fingers trailed from one spindly trunk to the next as she drifted between the fruit trees. “I want to learn everything about you as well.”

  He grabbed her around the waist, his grip feather-light, and turned her around into his arms. “You’ll have unrestricted access,” he assured her as his mouth descended.

  Her hands came up, pushing against his chest, her eyes widening into his. And then her fingers clutched instead of pushing, her eyes closed and her lips parted on a moan.

  His mouth clamped over hers, his palms flattened over her backside, pulling her close, grinding her belly against his erection as he deepened the kiss. Her tongue curled around his, sucking gently to a slow pulse. Heat exploded inside his veins, burning up his skin. He ran his hands over her backside, lower, lifting the short skirt as he slid his fingers up again along her thighs.

  Walking her back a step, he pushed her up against the nearest tree while her kiss devoured his senses. He’d planned to make her lunch, seduce her with expert skill, make slow love to her in his bed. Now he didn’t think he could make it to the kitchen table, not even if he wanted to. And he didn’t.

  He withdrew from the intoxicating dance of her tongue, his fingers sliding over the flimsy silk of her underwear and hooking on the lace trim.

  “I want to take you now, right here, like this.” He didn’t recognise his voice, thickened with the Italian drawl he’d mostly shaken off years ago.

  Her eyes opened into his, murky with desire. “Here?”

  “We’re alone.” He tugged the silk over her buttocks, inch by tantalising inch. “No one around for miles.”

  She drew breath on a shudder as his hands slid over the curve of naked skin, her arms snaking around him. Her nails scraped his back as he went down, caressing the satin smooth length of her thighs and calves as he dragged her panties down and slipped them over one sandal-clad foot, then the other. He came up, hitched the slip of pink on a branch. By the time he’d retrieved a condom from his wallet and rolled it on, he was hard, throbbing. His body had been begging for this since yesterday morning.

  He lifted her up against him. “Wrap your legs around me, cara.”

  Her legs clamped around his waist, her ankles hooked low at his back, her damp, sleek centre grazing the base of his erection as she strained back against the tree with a strangled moan. “Alex, wait…”

  Wait?

  He stilled. “I’ll stop if that’s what you want.” A guttural laugh scraped his throat raw. “But you should know, cara, it will probably kill me.”

  “I don’t want you to stop,” she said. �
��Just wait…a moment.”

  “What is it?” Concern instantly cooled his ardour. Not by much, but enough to gain a momentary measure of control over the primal urge to push deep inside her. “Is this uncomfortable?”

  “No, not at all.” Her fingers filtered through his hair, down the side of his neck, then curled lightly over his shoulders. “This is too good, Alex, too perfect, too right. Too everything, too much to be had with a stranger.”

  Alexander had always considered himself intelligent, but right now he felt as dumb as hell. Didn’t help that he was poised on the edge of torture, losing his balance fast. “You’ll have to be more specific than that, cara.”

  “I want this. I want you. You can slam into me right this second and I’ll explode and I just know it will be the best sex I’ve ever had; will ever have.” Her gaze fed into his, hooked into his soul. “You’ll eclipse my world and I don’t know who you are. Talk to me, tell me a little about yourself. I want you to make love to me, right here. I don’t want to have sex with a stranger.”

  “We’re already having sex,” he breathed out, a bittersweet thread of pain pulled from his gut. But he knew what she was saying. He understood. It wasn’t sex alone that had clawed its way into his restless sleep, keeping him awake half the night.

  How could he deny her?

  “Alright, let’s get to know me,” he conceded, but only partly. This was going to be a blitz tour. He massaged her bottom cheeks gently, pulling her closer, rolling her against his length. “If you can hold out.”

  “That’s not fair.” The words were sucked in on a gasp.

  “Neither is your timing.” His jaw strained to temper the taunt that had done him more damage than her. The restraint added another layer to the desire, a challenge to ride the wave of pleasure-pain until it crashed without warning.

  She was already leaning back partially against the tree and her slight weight didn’t need both his hands supporting her.

  “You get to ask as many questions as you wish.” He brought one hand up, dragging his thumb over her lower lip. Had he told her how beautiful she was? Her eyes so wide and sensual, the ridge of her cheekbones tinted with a pale pink blush, that incredibly luscious mouth. She was an angel. His fallen angel. “For as long as you can last.”