by Annie West
Poppy’s mouth sagged open but no sound came out.
‘When we met again I was desperate for you. I almost exploded the first time you touched me. Why do you think we had sex against a wall and didn’t make it to a bed? For five years I’d been dreaming of you, wanting you.’ He stretched out his other hand and dared to feather a touch along her cheekbone. She felt like satin and warmth and home. Orsino’s belly cramped.
‘There’s no one but you for me, Poppy.’
Her eyes squeezed shut and he felt her shiver.
‘What changed your mind? Did you talk to Mischa when I left? Did he tell you we hadn’t slept together? You made it clear you didn’t believe me.’
Her words were terse. She thought he came to her now because Mischa had persuaded him of her innocence. That he didn’t have faith in her word alone. Who could blame her?
Orsino surged to his feet, nausea rising. It was his own fault. What reason did she have to trust him?
He turned away and braced himself on the railing. His head sagged and his breath came in ragged gasps.
He’d lost her. She’d gone beyond forgiveness.
‘Mischa didn’t tell me. The man hates my guts. You know he loves you?’ How could she not know? It was glaringly obvious.
‘He refused to tell me anything, especially where you were. When I asked him what had happened five years ago he told me I already knew.’
Poppy’s hissed intake of air was loud in the silence.
‘Either I believed what you told me or I didn’t. That’s when I knew. The answer had been there all the time if I stopped to think about you, the woman you really are.’
Orsino’s hands shook as he clenched the railing.
‘I’ve been wrong about you. I accused you out of fear.’
‘But you didn’t believe me when I told you in the chateau! You said it wasn’t possible.’
He shook his head. ‘I didn’t want to believe it because it meant I’d sentenced us to years of hell for nothing. How could I live with that? How could I have done that to the woman I loved?’ His whole body quaked. ‘You’re better off without me.’
Even as he said it a voice inside howled in despair. How could he move on without Poppy? He didn’t know how to let her go.
‘So you pushed me away instead.’ Pain threaded her voice and something died inside. She didn’t sound like a woman reunited with the man she loved. She sounded like a woman who’d had her fill of hurt. Because of him.
Light fingers brushed his cheek, smearing wetness.
‘Orsino!’ Shock pared her features to taut lines. ‘You’re—’
‘I haven’t cried since I was seven. I thought I’d forgotten how.’ His attempt at a laugh was pathetic.
Her eyes met his, deep violet and so beautiful he never wanted to look away. Till he saw the shadows of regret haunting them even now she knew the truth.
‘Oh, Orsino.’ Poppy leaned into him, her arms lifting as if to wrap around him, but he moved lightning fast, grabbing her wrists and holding her back.
‘No! Don’t feel sorry for me. I don’t want that.’ Selfishly he wanted so much more. ‘I’ve made mistakes that have cost us both. I don’t deserve your sympathy.’ He’d hurt her so badly, not once but twice. How could she trust him after he’d failed her like that?
For a pulse beat and another and another, their eyes held. He knew she read his regret and his determination.
Finally Poppy tugged her arms free.
That one movement destroyed something inside. He felt bereft. But what sort of man would hang on to her by playing on her heartstrings?
‘So now you know.’ Orsino cleared his throat and stepped away. ‘You deserved the truth before we go our separate ways.’
‘That’s what you want?’ Her voice was a raw whisper, her eyes huge.
He watched for any sign she felt more than pity and regret for his stupidity. He saw nothing but shock.
She said nothing about being in love with him.
Hope died. He released the breath he’d held, waiting to hear those three words she’d once shared so willingly. He’d finally managed to kill her feelings when he’d rejected her confession at the chateau party.
‘Are you ready to leave?’ he asked abruptly, needing to end this. ‘I’ll drive you wherever you want to go.’
She stepped back and a leaden weight crushed his heart. ‘No. I’ll grab a taxi.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ORSINO FOLLOWED THE receptionist’s directions and stalked down the corridor to the conference room. His skin prickled just being in London’s Chatsfield Hotel after all these years. It reminded him of his father’s arrogant assumption that he’d drop everything to become the public face of the company.
He raked his hand across his chin, feeling the growth he hadn’t bothered to shave. He wasn’t in the mood for business, but Bettina had been insistent, if cagey, saying this was an opportunity not to be missed.
He should have been heading to the Cuillins this morning. What better way to test his recuperation than by tackling some of Scotland’s most challenging climbs? He twitched his bad hand, wondering if he was kidding himself even attempting to climb again.
If he wasn’t up to it physically then he’d have to find some other distraction. Something to dull the memory of Poppy saying goodbye. So far nothing had worked.
His stride faltered as pain swamped him.
Would he ever see her again except on billboards?
He didn’t know which would be worse—seeing her and not being with her, or never laying eyes on her again.
The sooner he was away to Skye, the better. At least there he could be alone with his misery.
Orsino scowled. This Ms Beaufort had better have a worthwhile proposal or he’d be out of here like a shot.
He reached the door, knocked peremptorily and swung into the conference room, only to pull up short as the ground fell away beneath his feet.
A tall woman rose from one of the swivel chairs at the table. With her back to the window the stream of daylight detailed her slim-fitting dark suit with its cinched-in waist. She had hair the colour of passion, pulled back high from her face.
‘Poppy?’ he croaked. He swiped his hand over bleary eyes. Was he seeing things?
She stepped around the table and he saw flawless legs and shapely feet in glossy black shoes so high she looked like some erotic fantasy come to life. Pearls circled her pale throat, drawing attention to the deep plunge of her charcoal suit, and the fact she wasn’t wearing a shirt beneath it.
It was her.
Instinctively he inhaled as she approached, letting the delicate, fresh scent of her invade his senses.
His eyes dropped to glossy lips the colour of raspberries and he bit back a groan of longing.
‘What are you …?’ His words died as she stepped past him and snicked the door locked.
‘Just making sure we’re not disturbed,’ she murmured as she walked back to the polished conference table.
‘Poppy? What is this?’ His head spun. It was all he could do not to grab her, bury his head in her neck and haul her up against him. ‘Where’s Ms Beaufort?’
Her hand strayed to her throat, as if she were nervous. Then she lifted her chin.
‘You’re looking at her.’
‘I don’t understand.’ He’d had so little sleep lately. Could he be dreaming?
‘I took a leaf out of your book and used my mother’s maiden name.’
‘Because?’
She folded her arms, bending one knee and jutting her hip out in a stance that was pure challenge. ‘Because you made it painfully obvious last time that you were so racked with guilt you couldn’t face being with me. Subterfuge seemed my only option.’
Poppy’s heart dipped and she clenched her fingers into the sleeves of her jacket, pulling her folded arms in close.
Orsino’s liquid dark eyes flared and his gaze dropped to the deep V of her cleavage as her breasts plumped higher. The heat in h
is eyes belied his stern expression and taut features.
A spark of hope flared. She wasn’t too proud to use her natural assets to get what she wanted. The stakes were too high to chance failure. She leaned forward.
‘I’ve got a business proposition for your charity work.’ She swiped her tongue along her bottom lip, more nervous than she’d been on her first photo shoot, and was rewarded when Orsino’s eyes flickered.
‘You want to talk about philanthropy?’ His head swung from side to side like a boxer who’d taken one too many hits and couldn’t focus.
‘Why not? You’re not the only one with an interest.’ She leaned back against the conference table, trying to project confidence.
Orsino’s eyes narrowed. She’d known that sharp brain of his would click into gear quickly. She hurried on. ‘My proposal will benefit your fundraising.’
‘Really?’
‘Absolutely.’ She nodded to a nearby chair. ‘Why don’t you take a seat?’
‘I’m fine standing.’ He crossed his arms, reinforcing the lean strength of his broad chest beneath the jacket and plain shirt.
‘You won’t mind if I get comfortable.’ She shimmied onto the table behind her, aware of Orsino’s gaze zeroing like a laser onto her legs as her skirt rode up from just above the knee to reveal several inches of thigh.
Poppy took her time crossing her legs, hyper-aware of the slide of silk stockings against her thighs. She suppressed a smile at the convulsive movement of Orsino’s throat.
‘You have a proposal?’ His voice was rough but his eyes glittered as if he saw through her obvious tactic.
‘How is your eyesight now? Still improving?’
‘Almost normal.’ He spread his hands. ‘But time will tell.’ He paused. ‘You were saying?’
Poppy swallowed. What had seemed easy in theory was now impossibly daunting. The big man standing four square before her bore little resemblance to the emotionally wounded one who’d poured out his remorse and pushed her away when she’d tried to comfort him.
She grabbed her courage in both hands. She could do this. Failure wasn’t an option.
‘You do an excellent job raising money for your charities.’
‘Thank you.’
‘But they’re a series of one-off events that catch the public attention for a short time.’
His eyebrows flattened. ‘So?’
‘What about a sustained approach? Awareness raising that goes on even when you’re not risking your neck climbing a frozen waterfall or crossing a desert?’
‘Go on.’
She had his attention. Perversely she felt a fillip of annoyance that he hadn’t tried to gather her close and kiss her senseless.
Poppy recrossed her legs and satisfaction filled her as his gaze slid to the movement and lingered. Not so aloof after all. Deliberately she swung one foot, watching him follow the provocative movement of a shoe designed with one message: Ravish Me.
‘I have contacts interested in contributing to a media campaign. They’d give their services for free.’
Orsino’s gaze jerked up. ‘Models?’
‘Don’t knock them,’ she said before he could make a disparaging remark. ‘People are drawn to beauty. It can sell a lot of ideas, not just luxury goods.’
‘I wasn’t being negative. We’ll take all the help we can get.’
Poppy stared but read nothing in his expression. ‘Not only models. Photographers and filmmakers.’ She mentioned a couple of names that made Orsino’s brows shoot up. ‘We thought some advertisements and maybe a short documentary. Plus a series of fundraising events with some glamour thrown in.’
‘It sounds too good to be true.’ His stance, feet planted wide and arms crossed, told her he wasn’t convinced.
‘There are a couple of stipulations.’
‘Are there indeed?’ His deep voice grooved a hollow through her empty belly.
It was Poppy’s turn to swallow as his gaze seared her. She lifted a hand to her necklace.
‘You’d have to work with me, for one. I want to be part of it.’
‘Why?’
Poppy shrugged. ‘I’m not going to be a model all my life. I want to develop skills in other areas. This is a perfect opportunity while doing something worthwhile.’
He was silent so long nervous tension buzzed through her like swarming bees. She flushed, heat dousing her skin. Had she misjudged him? Had he pushed her away not for her sake but his?
‘What else?’ He stepped close, looming above her, and the room shrank.
She lifted her head, reminding herself she could do this.
‘I don’t just want to work with you.’
‘No?’ His hands dropped to his sides. Poppy watched them flex. ‘What else do you want?’
Her hand went to her jacket. She slipped open a button then another and the sides swung wide, revealing pale skin and a demi-cup bra of gossamer grey lace.
Orsino’s chest rose mightily as he sucked in air. The planes of his face grew sharp, his nostrils pinching.
‘You want sex?’ He sounded strangled.
Poppy shrugged out of her jacket, feeling the cool air prickle her skin. Her nipples puckered. She’d never felt so exposed.
Why didn’t he move?
‘Yes,’ she whispered, her throat clogging. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, eventually planting them wide on the table. ‘But I want more, too.’
‘More?’
‘I want to be your wife.’ His eyes jerked up to snare on hers and she felt the beat of connection between them. ‘I want us to live together, as husband and wife.’
‘Is this some joke? Payback?’
Her heart plummeted. ‘You think I’d play that sort of game?’
‘No!’ He swung his head from side to side as if trying to clear his head. ‘But I can’t believe …’ He swallowed convulsively, the lines bracketing his mouth carving deep.
For long seconds Orsino stared. ‘Is it possible?’
‘Of course it’s possible!’ Her voice gathered strength. ‘You were so busy beating yourself up about how you’d treated me you forgot about the fact that I love you.’
‘You do? Still?’ His eyes gleamed with a dark brilliance.
‘I told you, remember? I don’t need you to decide for me what I want or don’t want.’ It had hurt when he’d revealed his feelings only to push her away. Her chin jutted higher.
Slowly he smiled and Poppy’s heart cracked, flooding her with warmth.
‘I remember.’ With one step he was so close she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. Her knees parted so he stood between them.
‘I don’t understand how you could still love me—’ He raised his hand when she would have spoken. ‘I can’t believe you forgive me for being so blind. But I’m grateful.’ He brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He was trembling as badly as she. ‘I love you so much, Poppy.’
For one, long, glorious moment the world stood still as their gazes meshed. Poppy could swear she heard his heart beat with hers.
Then he cupped her breast and her eyes rolled back in pleasure and relief. It had been too long.
‘Sex and marriage and working together. I can manage that.’ Orsino dipped his head and nuzzled the sweet spot at the junction of her neck and shoulder. Poppy gasped as pleasure shot through her. She reached for him, was fumbling his belt undone, when he spoke again.
‘Is that all?’
‘No.’ She dragged her eyes open and leaned away from his mouth. ‘I want you to call your father.’
He stiffened, straightening to stare down at her.
‘Just call him and find out why he wanted you to work for the family company.’
‘Why?’ There was no anger in Orsino’s gaze, just curiosity.
‘Because family is important.’ Poppy thought of her mother and the bond they’d shared and her voice strengthened. ‘I’m not saying he’s perfect or even admirable. But there’s a chance his offer was a sign he’d l
ike to build bridges. Maybe he realised what he’s missed out on all these years, being estranged.’ Orsino deserved that chance that had been so long denied.
‘One phone call,’ he stipulated.
She nodded, her heart swelling that Orsino would consider this for her. ‘Yes.’
Abruptly Orsino pushed her back till she lay across the polished table. Excitement rippled through her as he loomed over her and she read the dark intent in his eyes.
‘Is that all?’
‘One more thing.’ She gasped as he bit her earlobe and liquid heat pooled in her belly.
‘You drive a hard bargain, Mrs Chatsfield.’
Poppy’s heart thudded. Mrs Chatsfield. She liked that.
His hand slid up beneath her skirt, stopping when it reached bare skin at the top of her stocking.
‘Witch!’
Orsino’s mouth plundered hers and the world spun. Happiness filled her. So much happiness she thought she might burst.
‘What is it, this last thing?’ He lifted his head and Poppy saw adoration in his eyes. She blinked hard.
‘Poppy? My love, it’s all right. I’ll make it okay. What is it you want? Come on, it can’t be that bad.’
‘Not bad at all.’ She cupped his beloved face in her hands. ‘I want you to spend a little more time in England so we could start trying for a family.’
The slow grin that spread across his face was the most wonderful thing she’d ever seen.
‘I love a woman who knows what she wants.’ He flexed his hand against her breast and she bit down on a moan. ‘You know, I’ve been thinking of pulling back a little on the more dangerous expeditions now there’s so much administrative work. Making a family with you would be a whole new adventure.’
Her throat closed so the words wouldn’t come. Instead she pulled him close and kissed him with all the love and happiness welling inside. Hope and forgiveness passed between them, binding them together.
Poppy slid her hands across his jaw, revelling in the strength and masculine roughness of his bristled chin.
Orsino’s hand slipped higher beneath her skirt then stalled as it encountered nothing but bare skin and soft femininity. His head reared back and his eyes widened.
His voice was strangled. ‘You’re a dangerous woman, Poppy. More dangerous than any mountain I could climb. You might just kill me yet.’