by Nicola Marsh
His plan to keep busy, keep her working hard and ignore the attraction between them was failing miserably. If anything, the harder he pushed her, and seeing her struggle valiantly to keep up, only served to ratchet up his admiration.
As for their shared confidences, those little snippets of personal stuff they kept dragging out of each other…he’d never felt so close to anyone.
So what the hell was he going to do?
His first plan of keeping his distance wasn’t working. Maybe he should go the other way? Get this thing for her out of his system. Lose the mystique, the fascination she held. What did he have to lose?
He’d already lost a piece of himself to her, opening up about Claudia, revealing more than he wanted anyone to know.
Perhaps focusing on the physical would obliterate his crazy need to confide in her the closer they grew?
But he’d persistently pushed her away; she’d think he was nuts if he did the opposite. Unless he showed her…
As his line grew taut and he concentrated on reeling in their dinner a glimmer of an idea worked its way into his muddled head.
Dinner…
Showing her…
Yeah, he was sick of all this talking they seemed to be doing.
Time for a little action.
Chapter Eleven
SEVERAL hours later Jade woke to the tantalising aroma of grilled salmon.
Her nose twitched as she sat up, rubbed her eyes and glanced at the time. Looked like her nana nap had turned into an exhausted two-hour siesta. Considering her lack of sleep lately, she must’ve needed it. No prizes for guessing the cause of her insomnia.
As if on cue, Rhys knocked on the door before opening it and sticking his head in. ‘Dinner time, Sleeping Beauty.’
‘Be there in a sec.’
Better make that an hour, she thought as she washed her face and ran a comb through her messy hair. After dumping Julian she’d had her thick hair layered, opting for a less extreme change than getting the lot hacked off. Considering it was now totally unruly, refusing to behave to any ministering whatsoever, maybe she should’ve gone with the GI Jane look.
With a slash of pale pink lip gloss, she was ready. Poking her tongue out at her reflection, she marvelled at the changes in herself. A few months ago she wouldn’t set foot outside her palatial bedroom without a full face of make-up. Appearance had been everything. Unfortunately, she’d learned that the hard way.
Slamming the door on her memories, she headed for the main house, following the sounds of soft R & B from the living room.
Rhys had a thing for rhythm and blues. He also had a thing for soaring ceilings, bleached pine boards and views for miles around if this room was any indication.
The first time he’d given her the grand tour and she’d stepped into here, her mouth had dropped. She’d visited ostentatious palaces and showy mansions in her time, but this place demonstrated money could be used for subtle class.
Modular ebony leather sofas and reclining chairs, thick rugs, and a modern steel-enclosed open fire added to the ambiance created by the ivory walls, high exposed beams and those floor-to-ceiling windows showing nature at its best.
It should’ve clashed amid the rugged wilderness outside but, somehow, this house and everything in it blended into the landscape, as if a giant hand had scooped out a chunk of mountain and nestled the house inside the hole, cradling it, nurturing it, approving.
‘Hope you’re hungry.’
He stepped into the room, silhouetted against a window, rivalling the view for breathtaking beauty.
‘Starving.’
Helpless to stop her hammering heart, she sauntered towards the fire, where he’d laid out their dinner on a picnic rug.
She’d never had an indoor picnic, never done anything so wildly romantic, and it confused the heck out of her. When he’d stomped off on his fishing expedition earlier, she’d thought he’d retreat tonight. It wouldn’t have surprised her in the least if he’d feigned a headache and eaten in his room.
Yet here he was, playing the charming host, laying out a romantic setting complete with music. What was he up to? As if he didn’t bamboozle her enough without the trimmings.
‘This looks delicious.’
‘Thanks. Thought we’d dine informal tonight. Hope you don’t mind?’
‘Not at all.’
‘Good.’
Her mouth watered as he handed her a plate filled with grilled herb-encrusted salmon steak, corn on the cob and a baked potato slathered in butter and chives, though she didn’t know what made her salivate more. His impressive culinary skills or his impressive chest, every muscular ridge and bump highlighted in an azure shirt the same stunning colour of his eyes.
Heat surged to her cheeks—thankfully, she could blame it on proximity to the open fire—as she focused on her plate and not on the expanse of skin visible where his collar opened in a tantalising V.
‘The fishing jaunt was a success, I see?’
‘Never any doubt.’
Wisely, she kept her doubts that he’d even gone fishing to herself.
Biting into a succulent piece of salmon, she sighed. ‘Aren’t these rivers brimming with salmon? Bet this poor sucker practically leapt onto your hook.’
‘Eat!’ He growled, his eyes glinting with amusement.
They ate in relaxed silence and she savoured every mouthful, enjoying the luxury of having a man cook for her. Julian’s idea of cooking had been ordering the caterers to stock the freezer with pre-cooked meals.
After she’d cleaned her plate, she sat back and patted her stomach.
‘That was some dinner.’
He smiled, his teeth glowing in the reflected firelight.
‘Wait ’til you see dessert.’
Jade gulped, unable to move as he reached over and took her plate, his hand brushing hers, sending sparks shooting from her fingertips to her toes. Their eyes locked and she could’ve sworn electricity sizzled in the air.
‘Don’t move. I’ll be right back.’
Watching him stroll out of the room, faded denim clinging to his sensational butt, she wavered.
If she didn’t move, she was in serious danger of falling flat on her back and yelling, ‘Take me now!’ when he came back.
If she moved, she’d miss out on all the fabulous stuff that would happen if she did fall flat on her back and yell, ‘Take me now!’
Dilemmas, dilemmas…
He took the decision out of her hands, returning quickly with a platter of strawberries and melted chocolate.
‘Oh, boy, you sure know the way to a girl’s stomach,’ she said, snaffling a strawberry and popping it in her mouth before he could set them down on the rug.
He paused, sent her a sizzling look. ‘Maybe it’s not the girl’s stomach I’m after.’
The stomach in question belly-flopped at the intent in his eyes, her heart joining her tummy in an impressive somersault routine.
Thankfully, he turned away to tend to the fire and she leaned back, propped on outstretched arms, content to watch, loving the way the muted firelight played across the sharp angles of his face, how it shimmered orange against his Western shirt. Definite possibilities with that shirt, considering the pop buttons all the way down the front…
‘That should keep us warm for a while.’
He sat next to her, his thigh barely inches from her own, a slow-building heat radiating between them. Or was it just the heat from the fire, with her imagination working overtime?
‘Dessert?’
His low, husky voice rippled over her and before she could launch herself at him with a resounding yes, he offered her the platter of strawberries.
‘Thanks, my favourite.’
Before she could pick one he chose the plumpest, juiciest strawberry, whisked it through the chocolate and offered it to her, hovering a hair’s-breadth in front of her lips.
Guess this answered her earlier question of what was he doing. Every slow-motioned action, every g
limmer in those too-blue eyes, every tilt of those sexy lips, screamed seduction.
After spending so many tense moments retreating from her, he’d finally decided to stop running. She should ponder why; why the sudden turnaround, why now, after he’d made it clear this wasn’t a good idea.
But as he brushed the strawberry over her bottom lip in a slow, sensual sweep she wanted to lose herself in the moment and to hell with any questions.
Her eyes didn’t leave his as she slowly opened her lips, moved a fraction and enclosed her mouth over the deliciously smooth chocolate tip.
She moaned, her eyelids drifting shut as she bit into the strawberry, savouring the explosion of sweet tanginess mingling with the luscious chocolate, her senses on overload as she took the whole fruit in her mouth, her tongue flicking out, only to encounter a fingertip.
She could’ve sworn Rhys’s moan echoed hers, but as her eyes flew open he’d sat back, placing the tray within reaching distance if she wanted more. She’d never considered fruit erotic, but she sure as heck would view strawberries a whole lot different after tonight.
As she plucked another strawberry off the plate, popped it in her mouth, she sighed in contentment. He couldn’t have planned a more lovely evening. So where did they go from here? Damned if she was going to fling herself at him again, which meant Ranger would have to make the first move.
The fire crackled and hissed and spluttered, punctuating the silence, as she shoved a few more strawberries into her mouth so she wouldn’t have to speak.
‘Want to hear a story?’
‘Sure.’
Anything to distract from the temptation of sitting this close to a guy who had the potential to fulfil every one of her wildest fantasies.
‘The Alaskan people believe strongly in their traditions. Each tradition has a purpose and this is one of my favourites. The Alaskan women always had long, beautiful hair. A woman in mourning would cut her hair short and wear tattered clothes. She would keep this up ’til her husband’s potlatch, or burial ceremony, was over. Only then did she fix herself up again and think of marriage.’
She had the distinct impression there was a hidden meaning behind his story.
‘Are you trying to tell me you can’t move on from something in the past ’til you’ve buried it?’
He continued to stare into the fire. ‘I just like the story. I can’t imagine being that in love with anyone, let alone wanting to move on so soon after their death. Good luck to the people who find that kind of love.’
Silence descended, punctuated by the crackling of wood as the flames consumed it.
‘Are you over Julian?’
His question came out of left field.
She turned to stare at the enigmatic man by her side.
‘Where did that come from?’
He shrugged, still avoiding her gaze. ‘Just wondered.’
‘I’m well and truly over him and much the wiser. I’ll never fall for that type of guy again.’
Her vehemence must’ve struck a chord as he turned to look at her. ‘What type is that?’
‘Charming, demanding, successful, mega-wealthy.’
‘Funny, you could’ve just described me,’ he said, staring directly into her eyes.
‘If the shoe fits.’
She shrugged, tried to make it sound light-hearted but her words sounded mean even to her own ears and he visibly recoiled.
‘Sorry. There are loads of differences between you and Julian.’
Reaching out, she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Big mistake. He covered it with his own hand, caressing her with his thumb.
‘Let’s hope this is just one of them,’ he muttered as he pulled her towards him.
His lips covered hers in an explosion of searing heat. Lips and tongues fused, melding together in endless, unquenchable hunger.
Long, hot kisses that deepened and delved until she couldn’t breathe.
Soft, moist, seductive kisses that stole her heart along with her breath.
She knew this was crazy, knew it would change their working relationship, but every glance, every touch, every conversation had been leading to this point and she had no intention of letting him back down now.
Besides, she couldn’t think with his hands everywhere, tugging at the shirt tucked into her waistband, stroking her back, winding through her tangled hair.
How could she have dared to compare this man with Julian? They were nothing alike; Rhys had the power to undo her completely and she’d never given herself to Julian in that way, ever.
She could see that now, see it all so clearly. Falling in love with a dream, a dream of the perfect romance rather than falling for the man. Silly, naïve, but then, considering her closeted upbringing, maybe she wasn’t completely at fault. Brought up in the lap of luxury, taught to expect the best in everything, she hadn’t doubted Julian and his dazzling image.
Thankfully she’d wised up, had her eyes opened in the worst possible way. Now, under the expert tutelage of Rhys with his sensual, searing kisses and his soothing hands, she could banish memories of her ex once and for all.
She gasped as he unhooked her bra and cupped her breasts in both hands, stroking her hardened nipples, the rigid peaks begging for his touch, and as he nibbled a trail from her mouth to her breast she melted, her bones liquefying.
Leaning back, she exposed her breasts to his feasting mouth as he licked and teased the aching nub on one breast while slowly circling his thumb on the other.
Electrifying shocks shot through her, making her damp with need.
She wanted him. Inside her. Now.
She’d never felt like this. Sex had been fun but rather repetitive, at times unfulfilling. Never had she experienced the heat that raced through her body at Rhys’s touch, threatening to spontaneously combust her on the spot. Rhys and his wondrous tongue were driving her to the brink of losing control and she lapped up every glorious sensation.
Her hands took on a life of their own as she reached for him, ripping his shirt open as she’d yearned to do as soon as she laid eyes on it. Each button gave a satisfying pop as finally she encountered a delectable wall of naked skin.
Her hands went wild, sliding across his chest and downwards to the ridges of abdominal muscle, exploring every smooth contour.
‘You’re so hot,’ she murmured, her hands stilling as they reached his belt, her fingertips skating around his waist, itching to delve deeper.
His hooded gaze followed the route her fingertips took, his body stilling when she hovered over his fly.
Her heart clamoured, filling her ears with a dull roar as he reached out, covered her hand with his and pressed it against the thick bulge.
‘Go ahead, I’m all yours.’
She gasped as his erection leapt beneath her palm, large and hard and begging for attention.
Tentatively at first, she traced its outline, empowered by his ragged breathing, his low moans, his pelvis arching into her hand.
‘Jade…’
Her name tumbled from his lips, half plea, half groan and, emboldened, she slid the long strap of leather through the belt buckle, taking it slow, real slow.
‘You’re killing me,’ he said through gritted teeth, though his heavy passion-glazed stare told her he was enjoying her prolonging the anticipation as much as she was.
Deliberately grazing her knuckles against his erection, she smiled, a purely wicked smile solely for him. ‘That’s not my intention.’
She snapped the top button on his jeans. ‘I want you—’ she grabbed the zipper and tugged it down inch by torturous inch ‘—very much—’ she inveigled her hands beneath the waistband and tugged down, stripping the jeans down his long legs where he shucked out of them ‘—alive.’
All the air whooshed out of her lungs at the sight of him reclining on the plush rug in front of the fire, the flames dancing across his incredible body, wearing nothing but black briefs and a hedonistic smile.
‘You were saying?’
She’d been speaking? Not any more. She’d passed the point of coherent speech about two seconds ago when she’d caught her first glimpse of his gloriously naked body.
Almost.
‘I was saying I want you alive.’ With trembling hands, she slid her fingers into the top of his briefs. ‘For this.’
Her breath along with her fingers snagged as she peeled his briefs off, her hands trembling as his erection jutted towards her, thick and long and proud.
‘Oh, my…’
‘You okay?’
Speechless, she nodded, her eyes fixed on exactly how okay she was.
‘Come here.’
She didn’t have to be asked twice, eager to get naked alongside him, desperate to feel him inside her.
In a frantic rush of tugging hands and tearing cotton, her clothes joined his on the floor, his hands caressing her curves, delving into dips and honing in on the one area about to detonate.
‘Oh, yeah, like that,’ she panted, taking an embarrassingly short time to twist and writhe and beg for release. A release that came moments after he sheathed himself and slid into her with one, smooth thrust.
As he drove into her the friction of their sweat-slicked bodies caused her to climax again, riding crest after crest of exquisite spasms, crying out his name, urging him to join her.
He did with an almighty roar, a deep, guttural sound that made her feel all woman and then some.
She clasped him to her, savouring their intimate bond, not willing to break it just yet.
For she knew what would happen then.
Questions, recriminations, and this felt too damn good to waste time pondering regrets.
Besides, the night was young.
They’d only just started on dessert.
Chapter Twelve
RHYS watched Jade sleep, not caring about his dead arm as her head lay snuggled in the crook of it.
Beautiful awake, she was transcendental asleep, her long eyelashes fanning shadows across her smooth cheeks, her skin flushed from their third sex-capade, her lips curved into a small, satisfied smile.
But it wasn’t her beauty tugging at him as much as her generosity as a lover, her unselfish focus on giving him pleasure, her unbridled enthusiasm.