Evie’s mind worked overtime. What would Jack say if he knew her own real father had walked away before she was born, just like his? They had more in common than he could possibly know. Except that Jack hadn’t had a rich replacement to step into his father’s shoes. And Jack had taken control of his own life in a way that she could only dream of.
‘He makes my father sound like parent of the year,’ she said. ‘And all I’ve done is whinge about him.’
He shrugged it off.
‘I think Helen had it worse than I did. It took its toll on her, that he never showed an interest in even knowing her.’
He stared into the fire, his expression distant. The silence was bordering on long enough to kill the conversation and she realised she didn’t want that. For all its hard-floored, no-shower lack of luxury, she suddenly didn’t want the evening to end. When had she last got to know a man beyond surface impressions? The men she dated never confided in her like this. For them it really had been skin deep.
‘What about girlfriends?’ She broke the silence. ‘The papers are full of your dates.’
He met her eyes, held them steadily. Tension clung in the air like the woodsmoke—her fault; she was the one who’d tipped the conversation towards his love-life. Her heart picked up the pace. She could feel it clattering madly in her chest.
‘Exactly,’ he said. ‘Dates. No one special. I spent a long time away in the army, then some of the expeditions I’ve done have been for months at a time. Romance doesn’t really fit with all of that. I’ve worked too hard on my business to get distracted by relationships now that it’s finally up and running.’ His tone was measured, making her wonder if there was more to it than that. He took a sip of water. ‘You’re the first girl I’ve taken alone on one of these trips.’
‘Really?’
Butterflies were kicking off in her stomach at the intense way he watched her through the curls of smoke from the fire. She’d assumed from all the press stories that he was a real charmer, bored with a girl after a couple of dates, always moving on. The kind of man she’d made so many mistakes with. It turned out he wasn’t like that after all, he was simply too committed to his work, he was focused on his family, both traits that she couldn’t help being drawn to. And now he was saying she was different? Her heart was clattering as if she’d run a dozen circuits of the camp.
He nodded. ‘Sometimes get women coming along as part of a group but I don’t really do one-to-one survival excursions. I’ve had a couple of people guest on the show before, similar format to this, but never a woman. Not until you. It works better really with more people, get them working as part of a team. You’re something of a special case.’
Her pulse was jumping up in bounds. Just bloody great, a night alone with Jack Trent and she’d morphed into a stupid teenager.
‘Good special or nightmare special?’
He caught her gaze in his.
‘Both.’
EIGHT
Settling down to sleep felt out of the question and he usually slept like a baby outdoors. Did she know he was watching her pull her blonde hair free, rake her fingers through it and tie it loosely to one side of her neck? She didn’t look his way for a second. The movements drew his eyes to the smooth curve of her neck and higher to the heart-shaped face and soft mouth. Scrubbed of all make-up, one small smear of mud left high up on one cheekbone, that one flaw managing to highlight the smooth porcelain creaminess of her skin beyond anything her usual polished glossy make-up achieved. The golden glow of the firelight cast shadows on her pretty face.
They might have been the only two people in the universe and every cell in his body seemed to have heightened awareness of her and her movements around their small camp. She stood a few feet away from the fire to undress, on the edge of the glowing light it threw out, partly hidden from his view by bushes. Heat curled through his body as he caught glimpses of her removing the heavy outer coat and trousers, keeping on the figure hugging layers beneath. His pulse jumped at the flash of long slender legs as she walked quickly back to the fire and climbed into her sleeping bag and the huge erection he was sporting felt impossibly constrained by the outdoor clothing he wore. What the hell was going on with his self-control?
Then again, he reasoned madly, when did he ever spend the night in the exclusive company of someone as hot as her with an agenda that didn’t include sex? Always a short-term agenda. One night, two at most. His body was simply running with the usual expectations. He set his own bed up on the opposite side of the fire. Deliberate distance. He lay down and looked across at her, lying on her side. Her eyes met his. She’d rolled up her jacket to use as a pillow. Tendrils of blonde hair curled softly around her face.
‘Don’t you ever get scared?’ she said softly. ‘Out in these places on your own?’
She was absolutely adorable. His arousal showed no signs of standing down. He swallowed hard, his mind racing.
‘Not now,’ he said. ‘Not in this country, doing campouts like these. Army operations were different, I’ve spent some tense nights over the years. But that’s on a mission, as part of a team. Any danger comes with the territory.’ He glanced up at the canopy of tree branches. Tiny shards of silver moonlight slanted through here and there. ‘You’ll be safe with me,’ he said.
‘I know.’
That answer and the way she held his eyes raised another surge of heat through his lower body.
‘There are no proper predators here,’ he said, latching onto the subject. It was becoming harder by the minute to keep himself on task. ‘Much worse in South America. Spiders, snakes.’
She pulled a face.
‘They obviously prefer a warmer climate. Can’t say I blame them,’ she said, pulling her sleeping bag more tightly around her.
‘Are you cold?’
‘I’m sleeping outdoors.’ Her voice was lightly exasperated. ‘It’s May. Of course I’m bloody cold.’
Reservations and personal rules were easy to ignore when your different worlds had come together for a short couple of days. After this weekend their paths would never cross again. He knew that. It made shifting his bedroll and sleeping bag to her side of the fire seem a natural and sensible thing to do. He was being a gentleman. It didn’t mean he was making a move; it didn’t need to mean anything.
He bedded down next to her. Perfectly straightforward. Two sleeping bags between them.
‘It’ll be warmer if I lie here,’ he said. ‘Fire on that side, body heat on the other. Try and get some sleep.’
She turned slowly in her sleeping bag to face him, her face inches from his own.
‘Goodnight, Jack,’ she whispered.
Before he realised what she was doing she’d leaned in towards him and touched his lips softly with hers. She smelled sweetly of the baby wipes she’d smuggled along and she tasted of toothpaste, and the moment her lips were against his he had absolutely no chance.
Before she could move away he raised a hand and slid fingers into her hair, tugging it from its loose tie and relishing its silkiness, his thumbs stroking along the softness of her jaw. The silk of her skin beneath his hands was delicious, the closeness tantalisingly unfamiliar in the outdoor situation. He tilted her face gently. Another kiss, his own kiss this time, deeper, a chance to savour her.
The fire spat and popped behind her. Evie was vaguely aware of it warming her back as his tongue slipped softly against her own. One of her hands crept up and around his neck, with the other she felt her way slowly over the padded sleeping bag to curl it around his back.
Delicious heat coursed through her as she pushed her reservations aside. Jack Trent was not some wannabe partygoer, desperate for the kudos of bedding Miss Knightsbridge. He had his own life, his own agenda, and he wasn’t remotely seduced by shallow motivations. This was not a repeat of her same old mistake, made again and aga
in in her desperation for love and approval. He was different. With him she could be herself, and for once that was good enough.
His hands curved around her body to pull her tightly against him. Even through the layers of wadded fabric between them the hard bulk of his body felt deliciously powerful. Leaving her mouth, he kissed her eyelids, her cheekbones, soft baby kisses that made her stomach melt as he tangled his hands in her hair. Total gentleness, unexpected from such a powerfully muscled man. Nerve endings jumped through her body, hot need peaking at her nipples and burning between her legs, and when he suddenly sat up she lay and looked up at him in the firelight, wondering if he was backing off, not wanting him to.
The darkness was a black curtain behind his head; her breath was speeding. In a couple of quick movements, he unzipped his sleeping bag and hers. A rush of cold air swept in before he zipped them back up, joining them into one cosy padded space with room for two. He lay back beside her and pulled her against him, groped for her mouth with his, found it and kissed her again.
The forest floor was firm beneath her back. He made no attempt to undress her. Instead his hands slowly explored her, finding their way beneath the layers of clothes to reach bare skin. His palm slid over her breast and he caught the hard peak of her nipple between his fingers, tightening them until she sighed into his mouth. In response he caught her thermal top in his free hand and pushed it up until her breasts were exposed first to the cold air and then as he moved his head lower the warmth of his mouth. His lips closed over her nipple and he stroked his tongue slowly back and forth across the tip, sending sparks of hot desire through her. She wound her legs around him and tugged at his T-shirt until she found the rock-hard skin of his torso. She raked her fingers higher, over the muscled bulk of his back and shoulders. His erection was a hard pressure against her and she ground her hips instinctively against him.
The unfamiliarity of the cool outdoor air was unlike anything Evie had ever experienced. That and the fact that this was her, just her, with none of the rich trappings of her London life, and he was still interested. Sexual encounters for her had been few and far between. Relationships rarely lasted long after they’d made column inches. Wined and dined in luxury, steeped in flattery and attention which always seemed to disintegrate after the event, as if sleeping with Miss Knightsbridge was the real deal, and waking up to the day-after-day reality of boring old Evie was a disappointment. She wasn’t good enough to live up to the image people had of her. She’d always fallen short.
Her sense of time seemed to dissipate out here. So far away from everything she knew, no luxuries, no soft bed. She looked like hell and she’d caused Jack nothing but trouble and yet she’d never felt so desirable. The perfect darkness around the glow of the fire made this feel like a tiny, intimate world just for them, miles and miles away from everything she knew, where anything was possible and consequences need not apply.
His hands slid lower, her mind following their progress as he tugged the band of her thermal trousers free and eased them down. A trace of ego-boosting happiness at that—she was wearing passion-killing thermal underwear and he still found her attractive! Then his fingers crept beneath the lace of her panties and pushed out all coherent thoughts, even ego-boosting ones, with an all-consuming wave of pleasure. She heard her own gasping cry as he slid two fingers inside her and found a slow, heady rhythm that drove the delicious sensation on and on. His thumb found her most sensitive spot and circled it lazily. He found her mouth again with his and kissed her hard and deep, responding to her frenzied clutching at his back by increasing his pace until she tipped over that dizzy edge of pleasure.
Jack listened to her breath even out slowly, kissed her hair as she trembled against him, and tensed as she let her hands slide lower to creep inside his clothes, freeing his huge erection. He sucked in breath as she ran soft fingertips over his length.
With a huge effort he caught her hand in his before he could lose all sense.
‘What’s wrong?’ she said against his mouth.
He kissed her softly.
‘Nothing,’ he whispered. ‘We can’t go any further. No condoms.’
She pulled away to lean on one elbow and looked at him. The smile sparkling in her china-blue eyes made another surge of heat course through his veins.
‘You mean we found something you can’t make from nature’s bounty?’
He laughed and she stopped his mouth with a kiss.
She gently disengaged her hand from his and went right back to that slow stroking that made it feel as if he might explode.
‘We’ll just have to improvise,’ she said.
* * *
Jack came to as the pale tendrils of dawn began to infiltrate the heavy branches high above the forest floor. Roughly the same time as always and no slumbering about while his body took time to come round, he was fully alert from the instant he opened his eyes. Years of sleeping outdoors, often in hostile territory, had that effect on a person. Even after all that time, he was breaking new ground with this weekend.
For the first time ever on a campout, he had a half-dressed woman in his arms.
He somehow managed to remain completely motionless. Not easy while his mind was giving a smouldering run-through of highlights of the night and certain parts of his body had an agenda of their own. All the while he was acutely aware of Evie’s slender body moulded to his and the softness of her blonde hair against his chest. He vaguely remembered now removing her thermal leggings at one point to reveal the smoothest, silkiest and longest legs, now curled softly around his own. At the thought heat began to rev right back up below the waist and he gritted his teeth hard and disentangled himself from her as gently and quietly as he could before he could lose his grip on the situation. She sighed in her sleep as he finally managed to creep from the sleeping bag, and he tucked it back around her before moving away to the opposite side of the fire.
Physical contact broken, his mind took over and worked overtime as he watched her sleeping in the silvery dawn light through the ribbons of smoke drifting from the embers of the fire. One hand was tucked beneath her cheek. Her golden hair was spread over the rolled-up jacket she’d used as a makeshift pillow. Last night in the darkness consequences had seemed all too distant. Now, hours too late, his mind took over from his body and ran through a list of implications.
What the hell had he done?
Last night had touched him on a level he wasn’t used to. He’d been so careful not to put himself in any situation where he got to know a woman beyond the surface. Sex, when it happened, was never meaningful. It was about fun; it was easy to walk away from.
She was different.
Because they’d been thrown together he’d had time and space to talk to her without any romantic agenda. Far from it—at the outset he’d had every reason to be angry with her and she’d hardly been quick to channel contrite. Regard for her had crept up on him. This wasn’t the usual shallow liaison and she wasn’t the young woman he’d thought she was at first. She hadn’t had the cushy life he’d imagined. She had her own demons, just as he did. She’d defied loss and rejection to come back fighting. She was kind; she was funny. Bloody hell, he had it bad.
She sighed softly in her sleep and he raked his hands back into his hair, thinking hard.
It was her unexpected determination to put things right that had caused all this. Her reassurance that she would go through with what amounted to trial by TV rather than leave him to sort out the mess she’d made of his reputation. He couldn’t help admiring that. Add in her innate sexiness and the fact they were alone and he’d lost sight of reality here. The night had been the stuff of dreams. The way she touched him, the unbelievable sensuousness in everything she did. Part of him wanted to get back over there and kiss her awake right now, just pick up where they’d left off, the temptation to throw caution aside almost impossible to resist. He dragged hi
s eyes away from the impossibly long eyelashes lying against her peaches-and-cream complexion and forced himself to think rationally.
The most important thing to him right now was the launch of his kids’ courses. He couldn’t let himself be distracted from that goal, not by anyone. He’d been working towards it for too long. He’d had his chance to put his own choices first and as a result he’d almost lost Helen. He had no right to pursue his own happiness now, not after the damage that he had done. And if he faced facts, he’d be doing Evie a favour. Better to back off quickly now, clean and sharp, than carry on with this and risk letting her down horribly later. Because that conclusion felt inevitable. It felt innate. He wasn’t sure he had it in him to be any other way.
Decision made, he stood up and headed for the stream to collect some water. Looking at her sleeping with last night resonating in his mind really didn’t lend itself to keeping him focused.
* * *
Evie’s slowly surfacing sleep-fuzzed brain gradually rolled out questions.
Why so cold?
Why so damned uncomfortable? Her shoulder and hip bones ached horribly.
Why so alone?
As that last question crossed her mind, bringing with it all recollection of the night before, her eyes snapped open. A few feet away the fire had burned low. A metal pot perched above it with steam drifting lazily from it.
Mist clung softly to the forest floor. The morning light that filtered through the tree canopy contained not a shred of sunshine. Everything smelled intensely green and damp and her face and shoulders, outside the sleeping bag, were cold. She watched a beetle scurry past her face and climb the nearest plant. She sat up and stretched her aching limbs.
She’d gone to sleep cocooned by Jack, her back against his chest, his arms curled tightly around her, one hand cupping her breast softly beneath her thermal top, his breath warming her neck. Completely exhausted after what felt like hours of greedy indulgence in each other. She’d had no idea making love could be so utterly, deliciously, gorgeously satisfying without actually having full-on sex. Not that the desire to go that step further hadn’t been tantalisingly present the whole time.
Man vs. Socialite Page 11