‘I did it because of what you told me,’ he explained slowly. ‘Your anger at your sister’s imprisonment was very...affecting. As was your belief in her innocence. I don’t like injustice and I was in a position to do something about it. So I did.’
‘Just like that?’ she said faintly.
He shrugged. ‘Walker is a top-class lawyer who has done some brilliant work over the years. I had him take a look at your sister’s case and he concurred that she was likely to be given a custodial sentence. So I asked if he would investigate further and he agreed. He went to see her in jail, believed in her innocence and then took her on as his client. You know the rest.’
She fixed that grey gaze on him, fierce and unwavering. ‘Even though I’d explicitly said I didn’t want to be beholden to you?’
‘But you aren’t,’ he objected. ‘Not in any way. If the money I paid to employ Walker is really bugging you, you can walk straight out of here, speak to one of my assistants and arrange to pay back the fees. Take as long as you like—a lifetime if you wish—I don’t care. But we both know that would be a futile gesture because I don’t need the money. I already have more than I know what to do with.’
‘Then maybe you should try giving some away to charity!’ she challenged.
‘I already do.’
‘And I suppose you consider me and my sister to be your latest charity?’
‘Now there’s a thought. What would we call it, I wonder?’ he mused. ‘The Proud Porter Charity?’
She pursed her lips in what looked like a disapproving gesture but a brief giggle escaped from them nonetheless, and Leon felt an unexpected flicker of achievement—as if he had done something remarkable by coaxing a smile from her. As if a man would have to work very hard to amuse this little hairdresser—and since he had never had to put in much effort for a woman before, the novelty value of that was also appealing. And didn’t her smile kick-start his imagination? Didn’t the soft curve of her lips plant a very graphic picture in his mind about on which particular part of his anatomy he’d like to feel them?
‘Anyway,’ she said, shifting a little awkwardly on a pair of extremely unflattering shoes. ‘I’ve said thank you and I’m sure Pansy would echo that.’
‘Shall we go and have a drink to toast her freedom?’
She regarded him suspiciously. ‘When?’
He glanced at his watch. ‘What about right now?’
‘It’s the middle of the afternoon!’
‘So? Haven’t you ever drunk champagne in the middle of the afternoon?’
The look on her face suggested she had not and, even though Leon was already doubting the wisdom of his invitation, he seemed powerless to stop himself from pursuing it.
‘Come on, Marnie,’ he continued softly. ‘What do you have to lose?’
But she shook her head. ‘Thanks, but no thanks. I have to get home and anyway, I’m not dressed to go for a drink.’
For a moment Leon was so surprised and yes, so irritated by her refusal that he was tempted to let her walk right out of that door. And then his gaze was drawn to the unwanted invitation to his father’s wedding, which was lying in a prominent position on his desk, and he reminded himself that sometimes life’s pleasures needed to be grabbed at.
‘Then how about you let me give you a lift home instead?’ he questioned evenly. ‘To Act On.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘WHAT DO YOU have to lose?’ Leon had demanded when he’d invited her to toast her sister’s freedom, and Marnie could have answered in an instant.
Her sanity?
Her composure?
Most of all, the sense that she still had some element of control over her life.
She had refused the drink and not just because she was wearing clothes which would have made her stand out like a sore thumb. It was more to do with the fact that Leon was such a big personality. He was so handsome and charismatic that people would be bound to stare at them if he took them to a fancy venue, which undoubtedly he would. What if people saw them together and started asking questions about her? It was a risk she wasn’t prepared to take, having kept herself below the radar all through her life. But Leon was nothing if not persistent and eventually Marnie had agreed to a lift home, thinking he might send her off in a flashy car with a chauffeur at the wheel. That part of the equation had been correct—she just hadn’t been expecting Leon to slide into the back seat beside her, his powerful presence immediately dominating everything around him.
Despite the vast dimensions of the luxury car, the atmosphere inside felt claustrophobic and not just because the windows were tinted, concealing them from the outside world. It was more to do with the realisation that she badly wanted him to touch her again, even though every instinct was telling her that was a terrible idea. He was powerful and autocratic. He was right out of her league. It was just a pity that her traitorous body didn’t seem to agree. Her palms were sweaty. Her knees were trembling. Worst of all, they were already snarled up in traffic and Acton was a long way from the West End. She swallowed, aware of the silken throb of desire low in her belly. Would she be able to endure another thirty minutes of this torture? She wasn’t sure.
‘Shouldn’t you be at work?’ she demanded when he crossed one long leg over another and she found herself following the movement like a dog eyeing the revolution of a can-opener.
‘I’m the boss. My hours are my own and I can do whatever I like—within reason. What’s the matter, Marnie?’ he questioned softly, stilling her by putting his hand on her arm. ‘You seem very fidgety.’
‘Is it any wonder? I wasn’t expecting company.’
‘And is my company so very awful?’
‘It’s not that. It’s more a case of... Leon! What...what the hell do you...’ Her question tailed off as his thumb began to caress her through the thin material of her jacket and she wondered if he could feel her shiver. Just as she wondered how it was possible to feel so aroused when all he was stroking was her arm. ‘...do you think you’re doing?’ she whispered.
‘I think you know perfectly well what I’m doing. I’m trying to find out whether your skin is as deliciously soft as I remember and it most certainly is.’ Without missing a beat he moved his hand down to her leg. ‘I’m also a little surprised to discover that you’re wearing stockings, since you didn’t strike me as a stockings kind of woman, Miss Porter.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘I thought you were prim.’ A skim of fingertips against the quiver of flesh, as his voice deepened. ‘And these don’t feel remotely prim.’
His fingers were inching up beneath her skirt and Marnie knew now was not the moment to enlighten him that she found tights constricting and liked her skin to be able to breathe properly. She swallowed but that didn’t affect the terrible dust-dry feeling in her throat. She knew she ought to slap his hand away and stop him, but the trouble was that she didn’t want to stop him. She wanted his hand to continue creeping up towards its drenched and aching destination. Would it be so wrong to allow herself a few moments of bliss before telling him this was a bad idea, or could he then rightly accuse her of leading him on? But she was powerless to prevent her eyes from closing as he drew a light circle over one trembling thigh and she wondered if he’d noticed the spill of flesh over the top of her hold-ups.
But suddenly all her perceived imperfections didn’t matter because his slow stroking was becoming more and more irresistible and it was taking all her willpower not to whimper her approval, especially since he had bent his head and begun trailing soft kisses across her neck.
‘Leon,’ she whispered, but that throaty murmur sounded nothing like her normal voice.
‘Shh...’
His velvety cajolement made the words die on her lips because he had reached her panties at last and was pushing the moist fabric aside and her eyes snapped open in alarm.
‘Your...driver,’ she gasped.
‘There’s a screen between us and him,’ he murmured. ‘And it’s one-way. He can’t see us and he can’t hear us.’
Afterwards Marnie would marvel at the fact that they’d been discussing the inner workings of a luxury car at such a moment, but right now she was busy having Leon kiss away her little cries of pleasure while his unseen fingers worked their magic. She told herself to call a halt to it before it was too late, but she didn’t think there was anything on earth which would have given her the strength to do that. Her breasts were tingling. Her flesh was dissolving—that silken beat impossible to ignore—the pump of her blood gathering pace like a piston. And then she was coming. Coming hard against the pressure of his palm. Trying not to buck or to cry out, despite his reassurance about the privacy of the one-way screen. Her attempts to keep her orgasm secret seemed only to intensify the sensations which were pulsing through her. It was...incredible. It seemed to go on and on for ever.
Eventually, he withdrew his hand and she was aware of the faint smell of her sex in the air. In a daze her eyelids fluttered open to find Leon regarding her, a look of feral satisfaction on his face, a soft smile at his lips.
‘Did you like that?’ he questioned silkily.
‘I hated every minute of it.’ She hit the button of the electric window and it slid soundlessly down. ‘Couldn’t you tell?’
A rush of cold air swirled in and he laughed but that didn’t quite disguise the shifting frustration on his features and Marnie boldly reached out to rub her fingers over the hardness which the expert cut of his expensive trousers was failing to hide. For a moment he groaned as she feathered her fingers up and down his rocky shaft, before firmly removing her hand and putting it on her lap.
‘No,’ he advised sternly.
‘Don’t you want to?’ she questioned, confused.
‘What do you think, Marnie? Of course I do. It just happens to be a slightly less discreet operation for men.’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ she said sulkily.
‘Neither would I.’
She turned to him, blinking very hard, unable to hide the surprise from her voice. Or the leap of pleasure in her heart. ‘Are you saying—?’
‘That I’ve never made a woman come on the back seat of my car? Neh, that’s exactly what I’m saying,’ he growled. ‘Just like I’ve never had sex on a beach with someone I’ve only just met. I don’t know what it is you do to me, Marnie Porter—only that I find I want you. I want you very badly.’
It was a heartfelt declaration and it startled her. A little flustered now, Marnie turned her head to stare out of the open window to see that Shepherd’s Bush had come into view. They must have been in the car longer than she’d thought. Her heart began to race. What did they say about time passing quickly when you were having fun—and wasn’t that the best fun she’d had in years?
She turned back to find him studying her. In the dim light his features were shadowed, making the brilliance of his eyes stand out like jewels. And suddenly she thought, why shouldn’t they carry on what they’d just started? Mutual pleasure between two consenting adults wasn’t any sort of crime, was it? Because yes, she’d just had the most amazing orgasm but Leon must be extremely frustrated, judging from the tension which was hardening his amazing features. And she wanted him inside her again. Deep and properly inside her. She wanted that more than anything.
‘Would you like to come in for coffee?’ she questioned carelessly.
His eyes gleamed as his tone matched hers. ‘Why not?’
It was weird having the limo purr to a halt outside the purpose-built block which housed her humble bedsit and even weirder to walk into the thankfully litter-free—for once—entrance hall with Leon by her side. She wasn’t used to having a man around and she certainly wasn’t used to the wild flutter of her heart, or the urgent need which fired up inside her when she closed the front door and he pulled her hungrily into his arms and started kissing her as if his life depended on it.
‘Leon!’ she moaned and was rewarded with a taunting thrust of his hips against hers. He had pushed her jacket from her shoulders with an impatience which made her heart sing and now he was tugging frantically on the zip of her skirt, so that it pooled to a heap on the well-worn rug. Fingers flying, she did the same—easing his jacket off so that it concertinaed to the ground.
He removed her shoes and the sensible white blouse she’d worn for the court case. Next, off came her bra and panties and although both were plain and not in the least bit provocative, they still elicited a husky groan when he saw them. She could see him scanning the small room with dazed eyes before backing her towards the sofa and laying her down on it.
He hauled his silk shirt over his head without even bothering to undo all the buttons, before turning his attention to his trousers. ‘Don’t move,’ he commanded, for he must have seen her wriggle.
But that was a big ask. Marnie could barely keep still. She wanted to writhe her bottom against the narrow sofa in joyful anticipation. It seemed so long since that night on Paramenios, and although he had just subjected her to that blissful experience in the back of his car, she wanted something more intimate than that and didn’t know how much longer she could wait.
Not much longer, it would seem as he came towards her with a look of dark intent on his face which thrilled her to the core. And it was only when he was finally and magnificently naked that Marnie realised that she hadn’t been able to appreciate him properly last time. The afternoon sun was far more revealing than the Greek starlight had been, accentuating the honed contours of his incredible body so that he looked like a living statue—and much better endowed than any of those museum sculptures of her childhood.
‘You’re...you’re beautiful,’ she blurted out before she could stop herself, and the surprised flare of pleasure in his eyes gave her pleasure.
‘So are you,’ he husked.
She wasn’t—she knew that—but by then he was bending his head to kiss each peaking nipple as if paying homage to her breasts—so that she actually felt beautiful. She could feel each mound fill with heat and fire, their tips so exquisitely aroused by the graze of his teeth that it felt as if she were hovering tantalisingly between pleasure and pain. He slid his hand between her legs, a moan sliding from his lips as he found her sticky warmth and began to strum against the sensitive bud until once again, Marnie found herself on the brink.
And then he was straddling her. Sliding a condom into place before entering her with one long, slick thrust. She felt him still as her body readjusted itself to his size and his width and when she looked up into his face, it was a study of concentration and fierce pleasure as he began to move.
It was incredible. It was everything Marnie had imagined it could be. It was also over very quickly. She didn’t think it was possible to orgasm so rapidly, and as her body pulsed out its climax she heard the broken exclamation he made in Greek and that thrilled her too.
‘Where’s the bedroom?’ he growled, when they finally came up for air.
She pressed her fingers into his back. ‘You’re in it.’
‘I meant, where’s the bed?’
‘You’re lying on it.’
‘What?’ Propping himself up on his elbow, he frowned.
‘This is a studio flat,’ she explained. ‘Everything’s in one room, including the kitchen—although the bathroom’s off the hall. Haven’t you ever seen a sofa bed before, Leon? If I had the energy I could demonstrate how you can tug the mattress out from underneath to make a very small double bed.’
Leon started to laugh. No, he had never seen a sofa bed before. Just as he’d never been somewhere where you shared a sleeping space with a kitchen. He yawned. ‘Why don’t you show me in a while and we can spend the rest of the evening here?’
She hesitated, a look of uncertainty crossing her face. ‘If you�
��re expecting dinner, I’ve only got leftover lasagne in the fridge.’
‘I don’t care what you’ve got in your damned fridge, Marnie. The only thing I want to feast on is you. Now stop blushing and go and get us something to drink.’
He almost regretted asking when she removed her delicious warmth from his proximity and he wished she hadn’t pulled that unprepossessing white blouse over her head. Pillowing his head on his folded arms, he watched her walk across the limited space to a tiny fridge, thinking that maybe the blouse wasn’t such a bad idea after all, for it ended midway down her bottom, allowing him to fully appreciate the abundant flesh of those peachy curves. She was still wearing the hold-ups—although now with a tear snaking down the back of her left leg. Should he arrange to have some silk stockings delivered? he wondered idly, before dismissing the thought. Given her spiky independence, she was more likely to garotte him with them than wear them.
She turned round, a glass of water in each hand, and as their eyes met a punch of something he didn’t recognise slammed at his heart. It was desire. It must be. What else could it be? How did she do it? he wondered feverishly as he felt the inevitable hot hardening at his groin. How did she make him want her this much?
He waited until she had returned to the sofa bed and they’d drunk some water—until he had made her come with the flick of his tongue and afterwards she had licked him back as if she were slowly working her way through a large ice-cream cone. It was only then that he pushed away the pale tumble of her mussed hair.
‘I think we should do this again, don’t you?’ he questioned idly.
He felt the sudden tension in her body.
‘This?’ she queried, lifting her head from his chest to stare at him, as if seeking clarification. ‘Celebrating my sister’s acquittal? I’m hoping she’s going to avoid any more court cases, if that’s what you mean.’
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