Enjoying the effect, Rich takes me into Orewa where there’s a summer craft fair, and announces that he wants more things for his home, and he wants my guidance as to what to buy. Basically, he tells me to get what I want and he’s going to pay for it, but I try not to think of it like that. I walk around and point things out to him—a gorgeous mosaic of mirror tiles of New Zealand’s two islands to hang on the wall; a couple of brightly colored windmills to put in the plant pots on his deck; a set of orange cushions sewn with shimmering sequins for his suite; an oil burner and a few essential oils like lavender and bergamot to fill the place with an uplifting scent. Rich gets them all, and more, and when we arrive home, he takes great pleasure in watching me place them around the house as I hum with happiness.
We spend a few days together, swimming, walking along the beach, and watching movies on his big screen, and then it’s time for him to return to work.
“You sure you won’t be lonely?” he asks me as I kiss him goodbye.
“Are you kidding?” I look out at the view. “I can’t wait to get started.”
“Good.” He kisses me hungrily. We’ve made love every day, often more than once. He can’t seem to keep his hands off me, and I’m certainly not complaining. I can’t get enough of this man, and the candle of our affection doesn’t seem to be dimming at all—if anything it burns hotter and brighter with every day that passes. “I’ll see you later,” he tells me before climbing into his Alfa and heading off toward the city. He’s left me the keys to another of his cars—I discover that he has three more in the garage—in case I want to go into Orewa, so I don’t feel completely isolated, but I have no intention of going out today.
I make myself a cup of coffee, and take it out onto the deck, where I’ve left my easel and my pencils and paints.
I sit there for a while, enjoying the peace of the place. I can see why Rich loves it so much here. The city is hectic, full of heat and dust and noise, but here it’s cool and quiet. I find myself wondering whether I could live here forever with him. We’ve not talked about the future yet, the two of us happy to bob about on the ocean of life and see where the tide takes us, but the subject is there like a desert island, waiting for us to sail near.
We’re getting along well. Neither of us is perfect, but we’re both easygoing enough to be able to overlook each other’s faults. Not that he has many. It’s more of a case that he seems able to overlook mine.
Already, I miss him. I miss his presence in the house—the way he whistles old Motown songs almost constantly; his fabulous coffee-making skills; his teasing sense of humor and the way he’s always making me laugh; his dark eyes, and the quiver I have inside when he gets that look in them that tells me he’s thinking about me naked.
Yes, I think, I could spend the rest of my life here. I still feel that it’s an uneven relationship, and that I’m bringing less to the table than he is, but Rich is happy, and that’s all that matters.
I finish my coffee and pick up my pencils, and I start sketching.
*
Days pass, and soon I have to go into town to buy some more canvases, as I paint and I paint and I paint, everything from landscapes to still life to pictures of Rich over and over again. As I get into the swing of it, I really let go, and the paintings become more abstract, the scene or the image still visible, but the colors and the shapes forming the major part of the work. Rich loves them, and he promises me that soon he’s going to take me to meet Teddi, and that she’ll then pass my name onto her friend.
I’m nervous about meeting the woman who I’m convinced has been the love of his life—of the first half of his life, anyway. He talks about her a lot, but then he talks about Stratton and Meg a lot too, and the other guys in the gaming hub. There’s no bitterness behind his words, no wince of pain or resentment whenever he mentions Teddi’s name, and I hope that he told me the truth, and he really has moved on.
After about ten days, Rich flies me back up to Kerikeri so I can go to my house and retrieve a few more clothes and belongings. Neither of us says anything, but I can sense his satisfaction that it looks as if I’m settling in and growing more comfortable. I’m relieved when we return to his beautiful house, and realize I’ve missed it while we were away.
We spend a lot of time playing games together on his consoles. I love gaming, but it’s a totally different experience with all the new technology. Rich has one of the new Virtual Reality headsets, and one day he shows me some footage of the new game he’s working on that will be available for the VR. It’s eagerly awaited by the gaming population, and I’m thrilled to get a first look at it.
That night, while Rich catches up with some work, I sit on the deck overlooking the ocean and talk to Lara on the phone. We’ve been speaking once a week or so, nothing heavy, just getting to know each other. We chat for a while, and then I tell her about the game.
“It’s called Blank,” I explain, “and you start as a newly made robot off the production line. You’re being put together when something goes wrong and all the power goes off, and you’re left half-complete, and have to search for ways to fix yourself while you discover what’s gone wrong with the power plant. Of course it’s being attacked by aliens, so you have to fight your way out.”
“Oh my God that sounds amazing. Max—Jess has had a preview of Blank—can you believe it? In VR!”
I hold my breath as Lara talks to her brother in the background. I’ve yet to speak to my son. It still hurts that he doesn’t want to see me, but I’ve forced myself to patient, and to try to put myself in his shoes. Fiona has told me that she thinks he will come around, and I’m willing to wait.
She comes back to the phone. “Max’s eyes nearly fell out. I think he’s actually turning green.”
I laugh. “Tell him it’s terrific. I’m sure he’ll love it.”
“Will do. Hey, how are you enjoying Rich’s place. Is it nice?”
I glance over my shoulder to find him pouring us a glass of wine in the kitchen. I turn away again, back to the view of the sparkling ocean. “It’s fantastic. I feel as if I’ve won the lottery.”
“Aw. I’m so pleased for you! Okay, got to go now, but great to chat. See you soon?”
“Sure. I’ll let you know when I’m coming back up to the Northland.”
“Okay, bye!” Lara hangs up.
I put the phone on the table and sit back in my chair as Rich comes out with the wine glasses and places them on the table. “They both sound excited about Blank,” I tell him.
He laughs. “That’s good to know.” He sits and leans forward, his elbows on his knees. He’s so handsome, my heart hurts to look at him.
It occurs to me, though, that he’s been unusually quiet over the past few days. I remember thinking yesterday that something was on his mind, and now I can see that his face is serious, his manner hesitant.
A cloud passes over the sun, and I feel a tinge of wariness. It’s still high summer and by midday it’s hot and humid, but the breeze this morning was cooler than it has been, and there was a sense of autumn not so far away. Summer’s nearly over. Is my time here over, too?
“What’s up?” I ask softly.
“It’s time,” he says. “For the talk.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Rich
I watch Jess’s lips part, her face pale. “The talk?”
“About us.” I’ve been working up to this for a week, maybe two. I kept telling myself I needed to wait and give us time, but originally I told her we’d take a month and see how things went. Today is the second of February, so technically it’s under a month, but I found something out today, and it’s prompted me to start the conversation.
“Are you trying to tell me it’s over?” Jess whispers.
I stare at her, shocked beyond belief. “No! Jesus.”
Relief washes over her expression, and she presses a hand to her heart. “Oh thank God.”
“Jess, seriously? After the past few weeks? You really think I’ve been
considering ending it?” That physically hurts.
“I don’t know…” She looks pained, and my heart contracts at the vulnerability she still bears beneath the surface. She doesn’t believe she’s worthy of my love, and that makes me both angry and unutterably sad.
“Sweetheart… We’ve had a great time haven’t we? Or is it all in my head?”
“No, of course not…” She looks bewildered.
“How could you have made the jump from there to us breaking up?”
“I just assumed… I can’t believe it, Rich. I can’t believe you really want me. I feel as if you’re going to see through me at any moment—see the real me, and realize it’s not what you wanted after all.”
“I do see the real you. It’s the real you I love, warts and all.” I can see there’s no point in getting angry with her. She genuinely worries that I’ll ‘come to my senses’ and change my mind about her. And the only way I can show her I won’t is to, well, show her.
Blowing out a breath, I turn my chair, move it toward her, and take both her hands. “We’ve been together nearly a month, and I’ve loved having you here. We said we’d revisit things, and I thought perhaps we could have a chat about our future. If you want to have one, that is.” I give her a wry look.
She has the grace to blush. “I do want a future with you.”
I take pity on her. “Are you sure? I know you get itchy feet, and you’re not used to staying in one place for long. Is settling down and staying here with me something you’ll consider?”
“In the past, I only ever moved on because I felt as if I never belonged. But I feel as if I belong here, Rich. You’ve made me feel very welcome.”
“I’m glad.” I lean forward and kiss her on the lips.
She sits still, and for a brief, horrible moment, I think she’s going to run.
Then she melts against me, and I exhale with relief. I pull her onto my lap, wrapping my arms around her, and kiss her for a while. Something tells me I’ve broken through a barrier. She’d protected herself emotionally, waiting for things to go wrong, and I know it’s still early days, but I feel as if for the first time she believes we might have a future together.
Eventually, I sit back. “Actually, I have something else I want to broach with you.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve purposefully not taken you into Katoa because I didn’t want to overwhelm you. You’ve seemed happy here painting, and it’s been nice to keep you to myself. But I had a chat to Stratton today, and he told me they’re having a party on Valentine’s Day. I thought it would be a good opportunity for you to meet everyone.”
She nods slowly. “That would be nice. You’ve spoken about them so much, it will be great to put faces to names.”
“Cool. that’s not all, though. I was thinking that maybe you’d like to ask the Sandersons to stay.”
She stares at me. “You mean Lara?”
“I mean Fiona and Gareth, Lara and Ben, and Max and Juliette.” We discovered last time she spoke to Lara that Max had a girlfriend. “You could ask them if they’d like to come to Auckland and have a tour of Katoa—I think they’d all enjoy that, the guys especially. I’d fly them down. Then they could go to the party, and then they could come back here and stay the night before returning to the Northland.”
She’s still staring at me. “All of them?”
“It’s entirely up to you. But honey, I know you’d love to meet Max. I thought it might be less threatening for him if he came with his family. There would be lots going on with the tour and the party so it’s not as if the two of you would be sitting across a table staring at each other. And you seem to get on with Fiona. It might be a nice way to bring the families together.”
I can’t work out if she’s delighted or horrified. Her mouth is open, and her wide eyes look slightly glazed. Shit. Have I screwed up here? Have I pushed her too hard?
She closes her mouth and swallows. Then she says, “You’d do that? For me?”
I realized that her eyes aren’t glazed—they’re filled with tears. I melt inside. “Of course I would. I love Lara—I think she’s terrific, and I’d love to meet Max too. And Gareth and Fiona have been so accommodating—it makes sense to keep that going, and include them in everything.”
Her lips don’t tremble, but a tear spills over her lashes and runs down her cheek. I touch my tongue to it, tasting salt. “Don’t cry,” I tell her. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
“I know,” she whispers, curling up on my lap and burying her face in my neck. “That’s why I’m crying.”
*
Jess talks to Fiona later in the day. I’m sitting at my computer, ostensibly reading a report that one of my divisional managers emailed through, but I have one ear on what she’s saying out on the deck. I hear her explain my idea, keeping her voice casual, adding that of course they don’t have to and she won’t be offended if they say no. She listens, then says, “Of course. No worries at all. Catch you later.”
She hangs up and stares out at the sea for a bit. Then she comes inside. “She’s going to ring me back later. Max and Lara are out and won’t be back until after eight. She might not get back to me until tomorrow.”
“Right. That’s okay. Isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” She sits down. Then stands up again. “I don’t know that I can wait. What if she says no? If Max says he still doesn’t want to meet me?”
“Then we’ll have to accept his decision and give him more time.”
Her eyes widen. “What if he says yes? Oh my God.” She presses a hand over her heart. “Rich… I don’t know that I could cope with that! I’d die from nerves.”
I chuckle, rise from my desk, and walk around to her. “Come here. Whatever they decide, we’ll get through it together.”
She buries her face in my chest. “What if he hates me?”
“He doesn’t hate you, sweetheart.”
“You don’t know that.”
I sigh. “He’s probably confused. Plus, guys tend to be protective of their mothers, and maybe he’s worried that he’ll upset Fiona by contacting you. He’ll want to prove his loyalty to her. And don’t forget, he’s a bloke. He’ll have put it to the back of his mind and refused to think about it. We only have room for three things in our head, and it’s very unusual for anything else to push out food, rugby, and sex.”
That makes her laugh. “I’m sorry.” She kisses my chest, splaying her hands there, and I’m suddenly conscious of her soft body pressed against mine. “I think too much.”
“Maybe you need a distraction, then.” I slide my arms around her and nuzzle her neck. She’s wearing a bright orange long summer dress, and I know she won’t have any underwear on beneath it. Sure enough, I slide my hands up over her hips and waist to her ribs, and find only soft curves beneath the material.
“Mmm… Rich…”
I bend and lift her into my arms, and carry her through to the bedroom. I place her on the bed, climb on, and stretch out along her.
“Move in with me,” I murmur, kissing her neck. “Permanently.”
She slides her hands up under my T-shirt and scrapes her nails down my back. “Are you sure? You don’t mind me doing yoga every morning? Leaving wet paintbrushes everywhere?”
“I don’t care what you do as long as you’re here.” I shudder as she slips her hands beneath the waistband of my shorts and digs her nails in the muscles there. “Argh. Jess.”
“You feel so good.” She tightens her arms around me. “How can I want you so much all the time? I can’t get enough of you. You’re like really, really good chocolate.”
“I can live with that analogy.” I cup her breast and lower my mouth to her nipple through the dress, but to my surprise, she pushes me off her and crawls across the bed to the table on the side where she sleeps. She extracts a tube of lubrication and a condom, and comes back to me. “Don’t get your hopes up,” she says as my eyebrows rise. “I want you in me, now, that’s all.”
A
few weeks ago, when she did this, I objected because I’d once read an article that stated a woman should never need lube because it was a man’s job to make sure they were aroused enough not to need it. Jess blew a raspberry at that. “I’d like to try anal without lube,” she’d snorted. “Not. Plus some women don’t have as much lubrication, especially when they get older. And what about a quickie? I love foreplay as much as any woman, but we don’t always want to wait half an hour for the good stuff.”
She lies on her back and hitches up her dress, applies some of the lube, then tugs at my shorts. I don’t need telling twice. I push them down, let her roll on the condom for me, and within seconds I’m pushing inside her.
We both exhale slowly. She’s tight, and I take my time to ease in, making sure I work the lube right the way up so I don’t hurt her. She watches me with a slight curve to her lips, her eyes full of wonder.
“I’ve never had anyone care about me like this,” she whispers.
I kiss her. The feeling of being deep inside her is a bliss I’ll never grow used to. “Will you?” I murmur, kissing her lips. “Move in with me properly?”
She nods, and happiness filters through me, adding to my pleasure. I’ve always liked sex, and there have been girls I’ve been fond of, but it’s only now that I realize how different it is making love to a woman I’m in love with. It’s not just about physical fulfilment. I look into her eyes as I move inside her, and I hold her gaze, wanting her to see the emotions filtering through me.
“Faster,” she says, her eyes sparkling.
But I shake my head. She may have pushed me to forego foreplay, but I’m going to make sure she’s ready before I thrust her into next Tuesday.
So I take my time, kissing her and stroking her; I cup her breasts and lower my mouth to her nipple through the fabric of her dress, and slide my hand up her thigh to feel her silky skin. I let the sun bathe us and our lips and tongues and fingers tease each other until our nerve endings are on fire and my heart’s picking up its pace, and I see it mirrored in Jess’s faster breathing, the way she tugs on her bottom lip with her teeth.
My New Year Fling: A Sexy Christmas Billionaire Romance (Love Comes Later Book 2) Page 21