by Nic Saint
It was obvious that Stuart’s nearness and sexual availability was causing her body to confuse sexual arousal with love and her heart’s compass to go haywire!
When she opened her eyes, Stuart was leaning over to the driver to give him some final instructions, and she couldn’t help but be drawn to the smattering of body hair noticeably on display at the open collar of his shirt. Unlike the kind of metrosexual man who was so much in fashion these days, Stuart obviously didn’t believe in shaving his chest but rather preferred to keep things natural.
She couldn’t remember Geoffrey ever displaying the kind of body hair Stuart did. As far as she’d been able to ascertain in the past her true love’s chest was both bare and, if she was absolutely honest, quite unattractive, as he lacked the hard musculature Stuart obviously possessed, Geoffrey being of the more cherubic variety. Pink and chubby, not darkly toned and rock-hard, like Stuart.
She shook herself once again. This sudden sexual obsession with her cousin must come to an end, she admonished herself. All it was was his undeniable pure raw sexual charisma. The aura of danger that he carried like a lethal weapon, evident in the flinty-eyed gaze of his remarkable golden eyes whenever they locked in on hers. All of this was affecting her powerfully—nothing more!
As the car zoomed along the road lining the coastline, she could see the green-blue of the Mediterranean reflecting the blindingly bright sunlight, the tourists milling along the boardwalk, palm trees swaying gently in the breeze while large and luxurious hotels rose up on the other side of the road. Far from eliciting thoughts of enjoying a leisurely holiday far away from home, however, the scenery only served to emphasize the dilemma she was facing as she was going to spend her time here working side by side with Stuart.
The car had pulled to a stop in front of the hotel where they were staying, and as she stepped out and looked up at the graceful lines of the carved limestone facade, she was glad that very soon now she would be granted a brief respite from Stuart’s presence by spending some time alone in her room.
Chapter 7
Kirsty had just dumped her overnight bag on the bed—a rather large double bed, she was glad to note—and was hesitating whether to take a shower now or step out onto the balcony to take in the view first, when a knock sounded on the door and before she had a chance to respond it swung open and an irate-looking Stuart entered, rolling in his own travel trolley.
Her eyes widened in shock as he growled, “There’s been a mistake in the booking. Looks like we’ll be sharing this room.” He then directed a pointed look at the bed, and added, “And the bed, I’m afraid.”
Kirsty’s heart lurched violently at the thought of sharing a room—and a bed—with her cousin. In horror or pleasure? a nasty little voice questioned. She stomped on the little voice and announced, “That’s quite out of the question, Stuart. We can’t be sharing the same room, or bed—just the idea is simply—” She threw up her hands in exasperation. “—inappropriate!” she finally managed.
He quirked a sardonic brow. “Look who’s talking. Miss Please-come-up-to-my-room-so-I-can-give-you-a-kiss. You weren’t so concerned with what is or is not appropriate then, if I recall correctly.”
“That was different,” she huffed out, twin streaks of crimson slashed across her cheekbones at the memory of that kiss, and the one at the office yesterday. She pointed to the bed. “What will people think? They’ll think we’re…”
She simply couldn’t bring herself to utter the word, and was mortified when Stuart supplied, “Lovers? Why? Does the prospect appeal to you?”
“It doesn’t appeal to me! It’s just that it would look highly unprofessional.”
“You and I being lovers or people thinking we are?” he questioned, giving her a hard, probing look.
“Both,” she managed as she tried not to follow up on the imagery those words elicited. She and Stuart lovers. Stuart making to love to her—pressing her down on the bed, the sheets soft and cool against her bare skin, his hot lips laving her peaked nipples, his hand trailing along her thighs. “It’s simply out of the question,” she blurted out, well aware that her cheeks were now so tainted with scarlet she must present the token image of the blushing virgin.
Stuart shrugged. “Can’t be helped. The hotel is booked solid and this is the only room left.” He gestured to the bed. “Look, the bed is big enough for the both of us. And I promise I won’t endanger your precious virginity, all right? I know you’re saving it up for that very special someone.” Those last words were laced with a generous helping of sarcasm.
The blush spread, and her bosom heaved at the implications of his statement. “I’m not saving my… my virginity for Geoffrey, if that’s what you mean.”
He gave her a dubious grin. “Oh, no? That’s not what I heard.”
“I don’t know what you heard but I can assure you that it’s a vicious lie.”
“What? The fact that you held onto your sacred state of virginity or that you’re so eager to offer it to Geoffrey for his personal consummation?”
He should stop goading her, Stuart knew, but he simply couldn’t help himself. For one thing, the mere thought of another man laying claim to her now sent rivulets of pure jealousy coursing through his veins, no matter how much he tried to stop it. And for another, the thought of him being her first, the one who would introduce her to a world of exquisite pleasure, made his body snap at attention and turned his hardening flesh into a painful experience.
He saw that before he’d entered the room she’d popped a few more buttons of her blouse, preparatory to taking a shower, and the generous swell of her breasts was on visible display. It was all he could do not to tear that pathetic excuse of a garment from her body and cup the fullness of her breasts in his large hands before sucking the darkened tips into his mouth to nibble and suckle, lave and explore.
“I never considered my… my virginity something special,” she snapped, making his eyes travel upward from her breasts to her face—that lovely, lovely face. “The opportunity to… to alter my state simply never presented itself.”
Alter her state. Now that was a nice way of describing the act of making love, he thought grimly. “Don’t play coy with me, cousin,” he growled, his voice hoarse with suppressed desire now that they were alone. “You were saving yourself for Geoffrey, and now that he’s chosen not to take advantage of your particular proposal, you’re at wit’s end.”
“Quite the opposite,” she countered, defiantly raising her chin. “I’m very happy for Geoffrey. He’s a dear friend, and all I care about is his happiness.”
He merely shook his head at this, not deeming it worthy of a response. She was so full of it. For the next few minutes they both unpacked their luggage, each naturally gravitating to a different side of the bed as if they actually were lovers.
“I’ll take a shower first, if you don’t mind,” Kirsty announced haughtily.
“Go ahead,” he grunted, testing the bed by lowering his large frame onto it and staring after her sashaying bottom as she retreated into the bathroom. After one last glance over her shoulder, she closed the door, and he stretched out on the bed, his arms beneath his head. What the hell was he getting himself into? He had no particular feelings for Kirsty, certainly he didn’t love her. So why were they fighting like an old couple? And why did the prospect of sleeping in the same bed almost make him feel giddy?
This idea he’d had on the plane about making her his bride kept churning in his mind. It was the perfect solution to a complicated problem. Grandpa had insisted his three grandsons marry sensibly—not taking any chances with the family name and fortune, and here was a bride who fit the bill perfectly. And what was more, there was no love lost between them, which prevented all the awkwardness and potential trouble love brought to a relationship.
Furthermore, it was obvious there was a certain sexual compatibility between them, a certain chemistry they shared, so making love to her would not be a hardship, either for him or for her. And she
would make an excellent bride. She fit his grandfather’s description to a T. She’d been born into the same family, courtesy of her mother, so she would never do anything to harm their interests. She was kind and intelligent and definitely not a gold digger or attention-seeker. And above all they’d known each other for ages, so there would be no nasty surprises down the road. Perhaps they might even grow to respect and care for each other, Kirsty gradually accepting her role in this union.
He had to admit that when he’d looked into her personnel file he’d been pleasantly surprised. She was a hard worker and an excellent and dedicated student. Not only was her grade average pretty damn impressive but she’d shown herself a fast learner, extremely sociable and likable, and had a knack for the business that had impressed even her immediate supervisor and colleagues.
Now all he needed to do was ease her into accepting his proposal, which shouldn’t prove too hard. His face suddenly grim, he knew that his methods might be deemed unorthodox, but the situation was an unusual one. And hadn’t the rich and powerful always resorted to just such a way to handle the tricky matter of matrimony and succession?
And as the sound of the shower elicited images of Kirsty’s naked body subjected to the spray of hot water and his burgeoning erection turned granite, he made up his mind. He would take Kirsty’s virginity tonight and make her his. It was a sacrifice they both would have to make for the sake of the family. Just why the prospect filled him with such longing and furious desire he didn’t know. But he vowed not to let it distract him from honoring his grandfather’s final wish.
Standing under the biting spray of the shower, Kirsty wondered how she would survive this weekend. Once again her mind was drifting back to explicit images of Stuart ravaging her body—his hands all over her while she welcomed him to having his way with her. Was it true what he had said? That she’d saved herself for Geoffrey? Of course it was. Not only had she saved her first kiss for Geoffrey—she’d saved her virginity for him as well. But for some reason that kiss with Stuart had changed all that. It now felt as if all that came before had been nothing but a girlish dream, which Stuart had brusquely shattered into a million pieces by giving her a taste of what loving a man could really be like.
Loving a man? But she didn’t love Stuart, did she? Of course not!
The hot spray hit her face and she felt the soapy suds drift down the valley between her breasts, past her belly button and down along the triangle of her sex, softly bedewed with reddish curls. She imagined Stuart’s hand down there, splaying the outer lips of her sex and dipping his fingers into the wet heat within, his mouth hot on her breast while his thumb grazed her clitoris and sent electric currents dancing up her spine, suddenly eliciting powerful and unexpected starbursts of sensation thudding through the heart of her sex, her core spasming violently. When finally she turned off the tap she was trembling.
Stuart might have been the one she’d always been a little scared of growing up, but she had to confess that it was exactly this brooding, dark quality that elicited the most powerful surge of pleasure she’d ever experienced. Was this what orgasm felt like? What it felt like to be with the man you loved? No, not loved, she quickly corrected herself. She could never love Stuart. He was too much of an ogre for that. And as she slipped into her clothes she had to laugh at herself for even contemplating loving Stuart. He was not a man women loved—he was the kind of man women lusted after, and that was exactly what was happening to her now. The dark and dangerous quality he possessed was exactly what had driven her over the edge in the shower just now. Secretly, she hoped to experience the same sensation brought about by the skillful touch of her cousin.
Chapter 8
The conference was in full swing, though Kirsty doubted very much she was much of an asset to Stuart, as he talked to other participants, seemingly knowing everyone. She watched from her seat at the conference table how he easily mixed and mingled with delegates from other telecommunications companies.
The telecom business had matured over the last couple of years to the point that only a handful of companies now dominated the European market. Knight was one of the major powerhouses in the UK, and judging from the way Stuart worked the room he was highly respected in his capacity as its representative.
It was hard to imagine that only six months ago he’d been in the Middle East, fighting for his country, and now he was back at being the consummate businessman. The man was a force to be reckoned with, she thought as she watched with bated breath as he strode across the room in her direction.
Leaning over her, he whispered, “We’ve got a problem.” He gestured with his head to a large, swarthy man seated with two associates on the other side of the room. “See that man over there?”
She nodded, Stuart’s closeness sending shivers of anticipation darting through her. She tamped them down. She was here as his PA, not his private cheer squad, she admonished herself.
“He just told me that a major takeover attempt is being prepared.”
“A takeover… You mean for Knight Enterprises?”
He nodded, grabbing a seat next to her, his head still close to hers as his voice lowered to a hushed whisper. “It’s the Saudis. They’re thinking about moving into the UK market and deem Knight a prime target for takeover. That way they don’t have to build operations up from scratch in a crowded market.”
“But… they can’t take over Knight,” she said, appalled.
Fascinated, she watched his eyes darken to molten ochre, flecks of gold dangerously flashing across the iris. “They can and they will,” he told her. “At least if we don’t put a stop to them. They’ve already been buying up Knight stock in absolute secrecy and unless the major shareholders hold off on the offer they just might succeed in their attempt.”
Knight’s major shareholders were all members of the family, or at least that’s the way it used to be. Until Stuart’s father had gotten involved with Caroline Popping. The former reality star now possessed her late husband’s portion of shares. And therein, Kirsty instantly saw, lay the rub.
“Do you think Popping would sell?” she asked.
It was obvious she’d hit the bullseye, for Stuart grimaced. “She might. Her cash situation isn’t looking too good, if the rumors are to be believed, and offloading stock would give her room to breathe—and spend,” he added bitterly.
Kirsty knew that there was no love lost between the three siblings and their stepmother, as they considered her responsible for their father’s ignoble death.
“According to my friend over there negotiations are already underway.”
“But that’s terrible!” she gasped.
“Our only option now is to buy her out—outbid the Saudis.”
“Can you? Buy her out?”
She was biting her lower lip, Stuart noticed, and the sight of the slightly swollen cupid’s bow did as much to his heightened arousal as her kisses had done. He wanted to replace her teeth with his own and subsequently fold her in his arms and start the slow burn that her proximity was igniting in his heart and soul. No, not his heart or soul, he quickly corrected himself. Merely his body.
“We could buy her out, if we can raise the money. Problem is, most of it is tied up in the company’s assets.”
“You could mortgage out the real estate,” she suggested.
“That would put us in a very precarious situation financially,” he countered, liking how astute she was. “I need to talk to my brothers about this. Too bad Gramps isn’t around anymore. He would have sorted this out in a heartbeat.”
Grandfather had so many contacts in the business and financial world that he could always count on his friends to bail him out when times were tough. He and his brothers lacked this kind of clout, especially after their father’s antics, which had alienated a lot of their friends and former associates.
“We’ll figure something out,” he grunted, offering her a lopsided grin.
The sight of that smile tugging at the corners of his mouth s
houldn’t have excited her so, she knew. But it was as if the sun broke through the clouds and lit a fire in her heart, igniting a chain reaction that shook her to the core. To distract herself, she flicked her gaze to the Saudi representative, who sat with his advisors in the far corner of the conference room, holding court to a host of his colleagues. She couldn’t imagine anyone taking Knight away from the family. If these people succeeded, they would become mere employees in their own firm.
She placed her hand on Stuart’s arm. “We’ll stop them, won’t we, Stuart?”
He placed his own hand on top of hers, and laced his fingers through hers, the warmth spreading along her arm and adding fuel to the flame now burning ever more powerful in her soul. “Of course we will.”
As she gazed into his golden eyes, she could see the hint of steel there, and she imagined he must make a formidable opponent, both in the world of business and on the battlefield. Her fingers were still curled up into his, and the sensation of being skin on skin like this elicited a sensation of such intimacy small pockets of heat blossomed inside her. She was trapped in his gaze, and had the impression his strength and power knew no bounds. Oh, how it would feel to be wrapped up in those powerful arms, to experience all that strength trapping her against his hard body while his tongue plundered her mouth…