His eyes on the cockpit, Jake walked slowly toward the plane. But a few yards short he stopped, utterly shocked. A feminine figure wrapped in a gold leather coat with a big golden fox collar and wearing high heels stepped out of the plane and climbed nimbly down from it. Arabella!
She was here.
She had to be a figment of his imagination. He blinked and looked again. It was like a manifestation of his dreams, yet there was no doubt that he was awake.
And then she was standing in front of him, golden, radiant, and smiling at him. And he finally understood that she had come to him.
Swallowing, he discovered that his throat was painfully tight. And amazingly, after all the days and nights of wanting her and not having her, there was only one thing he could think of to say. "Are you sure?"
She nodded.
Barely aware of the noisy people gathered around them, he took her hand and they walked into the house.
In the gilded brass elevator he tentatively touched her face with a hand he was surprised to see tremble. "Are you very sure?"
"Yes."
In the massive bedroom, after he had shut the door behind them, he steeled his nerves to ask one last time. "You're really sure?"
She shrugged out of the fox and leather coat and let it slide to the floor. "Yes, Jake, I'm sure."
He felt incapable of moving; his thoughts were in chaos. She was here. Her golden eyes were huge and shadowed, but there was a special luminosity about her, a radiance that made his stomach knot and unknot.
Quite simply, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever known. She could have any man in Boston, but she had come to him, knowing how little he had to offer her. He couldn't think of anything that had ever moved him as much. He was shaking, he realized, shaking with relief, with happiness, with an extraordinary passion that he seemed to have only for her.
She was here—for now that was all that was important.
He smiled. "That's a very pretty dress, but it looks as if it's going to be hard to get off. If you don't want me to rip it, you'd better take it off yourself."
So they were going to make love immediately. It was right that they should, she thought. Very right. "I have other dresses," she murmured, "but if you like, I'll take it off."
"Yes," he said huskily. "I'd like."
She lifted the dress over her head and dropped it on top of the coat. Then she sat down, unbuckled and slipped out of her high-heeled shoes, and peeled off her hose. When she stood and faced him again, she was dressed only in a gold silk and lace short slip.
He let out a long, ragged breath. "You shouldn't have come."
"I know."
"But do you know, do you understand, that now that you're here, I'm not going to let you go?"
His soft voice sent a warm shiver down her spine. Since the moment she had made her decision this morning, she had never felt more alive, more achingly happy. Standing before him in her scanty lingerie, she tilted her head back and gazed solemnly up at him. "You don't deserve me, Jake Deverell, but I've made my decision. I'm here. And I plan to stay, at least for a while, unless you do something really stupid that upsets me. Then I'll leave. And I will leave, Jake—whenever I please."
He reached out a hand and ran his finger beneath a narrow gold strap and slid it off her satiny shoulder, then repeated the action with the other strap. "I promise I will never do anything that will upset you."
The slip fell down the slope of her breasts to their stiffened tips, but she made no attempt to pull it up. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Jake."
"All right, I won't," he said, his gaze like fire, his voice rough and uneven. "But I want you to know that for you, I'll make an effort."
That was all she could ask for, she thought, and more than she had expected. He was a passionate, strangely mysterious man, full of violent emotions that raged inside him. Chances were good that he would never love her. But based on her belief that he needed her, along with her love for him, she had made a commitment that would change her world forever and that she would live with her whole life long.
She shimmied out of her undergarments, then stood proudly naked before him.
For a long moment he didn't move or breathe. In the afternoon half light streaming through a wide part in the heavy velvet curtains, he drank in the sight of her high, firm breasts with their pale pink nipples and their rigid, budlike tips. His gaze traveled to the shapely curve of her waist and hips, her flat stomach, and the enticing triangle of gold at the apex of her long, graceful legs.
"Am I the first man to see you undressed?" he finally asked.
Her throat felt strangely constricted. "Yes."
"Good." There was an intense primal satisfaction in the one word. "You're right, I don't deserve you. But that's not going to stop me."
He swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed. Arabella's heart slammed against her rib cage with wild excitement. When she had made her decision to come to him, she had thought of this moment with a certain fear, but also with a delirious kind of joy. Oddly enough, she trusted him. And from his first kiss at midnight on New Year's Eve, her desire for him had begun to grow. Until now she looked at this moment as something that had to happen before she could get on with the rest of her life.
He lowered her to a black satin spread, then with a gaze that never left her, he began to undress. First his jacket was tossed aside, then his belt was stripped free of its loops and dropped to the floor. His shirt followed.
Watching him, Arabella's mouth went dry. She had thought she had an understanding of Jake's power and virility, but seeing him undress, she realized she hadn't known the half of it. His shoulders were broad and his chest was wide and muscled with a covering of dark hair. He was all man, and his impatience showed as he dispatched the rest of his clothes with hurried movements.
And then he was naked, and Arabella sucked in her breath as heat surged through her. "I don't think I've ever seen anything as beautiful as you are."
His black eyes seemed to turn even darker. "Then you haven't looked in a mirror."
He came down beside her, and as if she had done it a thousand times before, she twined her arms around his neck and draped a leg over his. His body heat seemed to wrap around her, and she prepared for his quick entry, wanting it but at the same time tensing against the erotic invasion. It came as a surprise, then, when instead he cupped one buttock with his big hand and pulled her against him, pressing his rigid passion against her lower body. And a strange new kind of heat began to spread through her, a white-hot heat that reached down to her toes and out to her fingertips and pooled between her legs.
"How am I ever going to be able to make love to you properly?" he asked rhetorically, thickly. "There's so much I want to do to you, and I want to do everything at once."
His mouth was hovering over hers so that their breath mingled, teaching her a level of intimacy she had not considered before. She slid her fingers up into the thick vitality of his black hair and whispered, "Then do it."
Somewhat startled, he drew his head back so that he could see her lovely face. "Where did you get so much courage?"
Her love for him had given it to her, but she couldn't tell him that, and he saved her from having to answer by taking her bottom lip between his teeth and lightly tugging. At the same time, he covered her breast with his free hand. She felt, he thought, like heaven on fire.
Against her tender skin his body was rough and hard, every inch muscled, but he was the epitome of gentleness with her. He explored her body as if it were some sort of temple, slowly and reverently learning everything about her. Lying with him on the big bed, she began to writhe and whimper. But still he didn't hurry. He touched and tasted her with the thoroughness and intensity of a starving man at a banquet. He searched out every secret place on her body, caressing and kissing, nipping and licking, over and over again.
She was nearly incoherent by the time he moved over her, but she was still aware of the tangy sheen of sweat tha
t covered his big body and of the tremors that ran beneath his smooth dark skin. And she understood the high cost he was paying for control. Blindly she wrapped her legs around his hips and arched up to him.
"No," he said, his voice sounding barely human. "Let me try to do this right." He grasped her hips and pushed them back to the bed, and then slowly and ever so carefully he began to enter her. She had such a need for him to be inside her that she could only moan with relief. He was filling her, becoming a part of her, and she had never known a greater satisfaction.
Then a sharp pain stabbed through her, and a cry escaped her lips.
His big body went motionless, and he quickly covered her face with kisses. "Lord, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. If there was any other way…"
His kisses and his soft, hoarse voice slowly relaxed her tensed muscles, and gradually the pain faded. "I'm all right," she whispered.
Tenderly he stroked the damp, pale hair away from her face, looking for further reassurance. "Are you sure? I'll probably die if I have to stop, but I will. Just tell me—"
"No." His concern had an unexpected sweetness about it, making her more certain than ever that she had made the right choice. She was giving up a little to gain the world.
Faint frissons of pleasure had begun to radiate up into her stomach and down the insides of her legs, building an anxiousness within her to continue. She reached up and touched his lips with her fingertips. "Make love to me."
A hard shudder racked his body. He started to move again, and the most exquisite sensations she had ever felt flooded through her as her body slowly stretched, taking him into her.
When he had completely filled her, he stopped once more. "Am I hurting you?" he asked, his iron-corded body trembling and feverish with desire.
With an instinct and knowledge she hadn't known she possessed, she began to lift and circle her hips. "I've never felt anything so wonderful as you inside me."
The last vestiges of his control broke. With a sound that came tearing up from his chest, he surged into her.
Shocks of fire rolled through her. Jake's gentleness and concern were gone, and in their place a skill and masterfulness that had her hurtling toward ecstasy, Her wanting was now a deeply fierce thing. He thrust into her again and again, each time straining to go deeper and deeper, and she eagerly met his demands, undulating her hips in a rhythm and urgency that naturally and quite mystically matched his.
She was in flames, burning away bit by bit. Then suddenly she caught her breath and arched her back off the bed as the first climax hit her and took her into another world. She heard him say, "My Lord," as if he were uttering a prayer, but still he kept plunging into her, his hips moving forcefully and furiously but with a finesse that soon had her moaning again and clawing helplessly at his back.
She was going to come apart, she thought, shuddering at the ecstasy that was once again building and building within her. And then another climax crashed hard over her, this one more powerful and electric than the last, and she cried out in utter wonderment.
He buried himself in her one last time, then his body tensed, and he made a hoarse, raw sound that before the rapture ended turned into her name.
Arabella slowly came awake and immediately felt the warm, solid strength of Jake's body next to her. She smiled, then opened her eyes to see him propped up on an elbow, staring down at her.
"Hello," he said huskily.
There was a softness to his eyes that warmed her. "Hello."
He skimmed his finger back and forth across her lips. "What made you smile before you even opened your eyes?"
"You. I felt you beside me."
His finger stilled. "You're amazing."
Her smile broadened. "Thank you for the compliment."
"It's the truth."
She stretched and looked around her. The room was dark except for the glow of light from a Tiffany lamp that sat on a bedside table. "What time is it?"
"About eight."
"Eight? How long have you been awake?"
"About an hour."
"And you've been staring at me all this time?"
He nodded. "The view was wonderful."
She grinned, then another thought struck her and she groaned. "Oh, no. Dinner will be in an hour, and all those people—your guests—they'll expect us to come down."
"No, they won't, because they should all be on their way back to Boston by then."
"Boston?" Pulling the sheet up with her, she shifted until she was propped up against a pile of pillows. "They're all leaving?"
He tugged the sheet down so that he could see her breasts. "A lot of them may have gone already. I woke up about an hour ago, called Marlon, and told him to tell all the guests to leave."
She stared at him, perplexed. "But why?"
He shrugged and reached out to take the weight of her breast into his hand.
A fresh warmth began to spread through her, but she had a feeling his answer could be important. "Why, Jake?"
He shrugged again and brushed his thumb over her nipple. He smiled when he heard her gasp. "I don't know… Maybe I'm jealous, and I didn't want to see all the men swarming around you."
"You told me you don't get jealous—ever."
A tinge of irritation crept into his expression. "All right, then, maybe it's because I want to be alone with you."
"You—" Words temporarily failed her. She tried again. "What are they going to think?"
He bent and pressed a kiss to her breast. "I don't care."
Fighting against the growing need to abandon herself to the feelings he was creating, she forced herself to give what he had said some thought. "Are you going to call Randolph Bruce and tell him I'm here?"
"Nope."
"You want to be all alone with me?" She had to say it aloud, to hear the words, to hear his answer.
He chuckled. "Yes. Of course the servants will be here, but they know how to make themselves scarce." He paused. "Would you rather I ask the guests to stay?"
"Are you kidding?" She gave a whoop of delight and hurled herself at him, knocking him over on his back and coming over him until she lay on top of him. "You did a very intelligent thing, Jake Deverell, getting rid of all those people."
He grinned, loving the sensuous feel and the sweet smell of her body. "Oh yeah? Why's that?"
"Because I'm going to keep you busy, full-time."
His grin spread over every inch of his face. "Sounds like a definite challenge."
She nodded in agreement. "I'm very demanding."
He skimmed his hands down the slope of her back to her hips and moved her ever so slightly against his already-hard manhood. "Okay, Miss Linden, what's your first demand?"
"Food."
He closed his eyes and gave a mock groan. "I can't believe you want food at a time like this."
"A time like what?" she asked innocently.
He gave a growl, rolled her over onto her back, and came up on top of her. "Like right before I'm about to devour you," he said, his tone ferocious.
She gave a shriek and went into a peal of laughter, and suddenly his expression turned serious. Seeing it, her laughter slowly died, and he laid his hand along the side of her face.
"You've made me very happy, Arabella."
Her eyes grew moist with unshed tears of happiness. "So kiss me," she said softly.
"I thought you wanted food."
"Are you hungry?"
"Only for you."
"Then food can wait."
Chapter 10
The next afternoon Arabella, dressed in a white pullover sweater and a white pleated skirt, skipped down the grand staircase in search of Jake. But Marlon was the only person she saw, and he was standing in the front doorway, gazing outside.
"That's my plane," she said, coming up behind him and looking over his shoulder to see four men rolling her plane past the doorway. "What are they doing with my plane?"
"Mr. Deverell gave orders that your plane was to be tied down in the north me
adow."
"Really? Why?"
"I'm sure I can't say, Miss Linden."
She smiled. "I'm sure Mr. Deverell will be able to say," she said, lightly teasing him. "Where is he?"
"In his study."
"Thank you, Marlon. And thank you for seeing to my luggage."
"I was glad to do it, Miss linden."
A minute later Jake glanced up from the ticker tape his machine was spewing out to see Arabella peep around the door. He motioned her in.
"What a beautiful room," she said, taking in the various golden hues of the paneling, bookshelves, and desk, all made of citron wood. At Jake's side she stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his. To her surprise and delight, he gathered her close to him and deepened the kiss until she was nearly breathless.
Even after he ended the kiss, he held her to him a moment longer, inhaling the sensuously feminine fragrance that was uniquely hers. After a night of incredible lovemaking, he still wanted her, he realized with astonishment. "How are you?" he asked, releasing her but following an impulse to reach out and to touch the lips he had just kissed so thoroughly.
"Fine. More than fine," she said, perching on the edge of the desk. "But I'm a little angry with you. Why didn't you wake me up before you left our room this morning?"
"Don't be mad," he said huskily. "After last night, I thought you needed your rest." He hadn't been able to leave her alone, taking her again and again. And because of it, he hadn't been able to help but feel concern for her, plus being extremely bewildered at himself that his need for her should be so great.
"What about you? Aren't you tired?" She, who never blushed, nearly blushed at the implication behind her questions.
He cast an idle glance at the ticker-tape machine. "I like to be here when the market opens."
"I suppose you've already had breakfast and lunch," she said, careful to keep her tone light, and saw him nod absently. At ten o'clock the previous night, Marlon had brought dinner to the room, but Jake hadn't eaten anything. After they had made love once again, she had fallen asleep. When she had awakened later, Jake had been there, but she received the impression he had just returned to bed and had surmised that he had gone downstairs to eat.
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