by Kim Lawrence
‘When a freak set of circumstances gave them the chance to cast doubt on his ability to run the company they milked it for all it was worth. Conspiracy is a hard word, but I think on this occasion it’s justified. The last thing he expected was to be stabbed in the back,’ he reflected grimly. ‘That’s what made it worse somehow.’
‘But you’re the boss now?’
The expression on his hard features had a savage element that made her shudder involuntarily. ‘I decided I was going to reclaim the firm the day my father came back home a broken, disillusioned man. I did it, and possibly there’s some flaw in my character but I enjoyed it—I enjoyed making the people who had destroyed him taste their own medicine.’
The ruthlessness in him had never been more apparent than at that moment. He would make a truly devastating enemy. This neither repelled nor attracted Hope; it was just part of what he was.
‘I didn’t mean to be nosy,’ she said softly. ‘It’s just considering you’re, in your own words, our closest neighbour, I don’t know much about you. You’re not really the sort of neighbour who drops in for tea, biscuits and a cosy gossip.’
‘Dad was never really accepted as part of the community. I don’t suppose it occurred to me to do it.’
‘Are you trying to tell me your father was some sort of social outcast?’ she said sceptically.
‘He may have made a fortune, but to some people he never stopped being the ex-miner with the funny accent.’
‘That’s ridiculous, Alex. People aren’t like that,’ she protested.
‘You’re wrong, Hope, that’s exactly what people are like,’ he said harshly.
‘It seems to me,’ she retorted, ‘that it’s you who has the problem. My mum and dad have never judged anyone on their background in their lives,’ she responded indignantly.
The shake of Alex’s head conceded this. ‘It was partly the old man’s fault. He did have social aspirations of the most transparent kind, and marrying Eva gave him a pathetic sort of desperation to please her. It was the sort of people he desperately wanted to be accepted by who never really did so. In business his talent won him respect, but I think he tried too hard to fit in socially. The right clothes, the right car, the right school for his son and even eventually the right wife.’
‘And that embarrassed you?’
The glance that Alex shot her was tinged with shock. ‘If I’m honest, I think it did,’ he admitted ruefully. At a very early age he’d vowed never to be called a social climber. People would have to accept him on his own terms or not at all.
‘And that’s why you never make the first move. If anyone wants to be your friend they have to make the effort. Don’t you think you’re a bit big to be afraid of rejection?’
She held her breath. She was taking a bit of a risk. These revelations had given her insight into Alex Matheson’s character. His aloofness was suddenly a lot easier to understand. She relaxed as the flare of anger in his eyes was swiftly replaced by a grudging amusement.
‘You play dirty, Hope.’
‘It depends on the company I keep.’ This unfortunate comment reminded her of the sort of company Alex imagined she kept, and the humour faded from her face. ‘There’s no pudding,’ she said abruptly. It wasn’t going to do her any good to build up some cosy rapport. The fact Alex despised her was going to get in the way whichever way you looked at it.
‘Watching your weight?’ His eyes dropped to skim over the lush curves of her figure.
‘An occupational hazard—along with the drugs, debauchery and general dissipation.’
‘Are you trying to tell me that’s not the case?’ The way his lip curled scornfully made her blood boil. It was so unfair. Life’s unfair. Cut out the self-pity, Hope!
‘Are you trying to tell me there’s not a lot of corruption and underhand dirty dealing in the wonderful world of big business?’
‘Are you questioning my integrity?’ he asked stiffly.
He really couldn’t see the double standard; it was amazing. ‘I wouldn’t do that, Alex, unless I was very sure of my facts,’ Hope shot back swiftly.
There was a startled pause. ‘That’s a very neat way of calling someone a narrow-minded bigot,’ he breathed admiringly.
If the cap fits, Mr Matheson, dear. ‘I’m working under the constraints imposed by your being my guest. Mum was always a very liberal parent, but she has some very strict rules about things like that.’
‘And have you always kept your mum’s rules in mind, Hope?’
‘Once I got past the rebellious stage.’
‘I had a rebellious stage, too,’ he admitted, rather surprisingly.
‘You can remember that far back?’ she gasped admiringly. A deeply wicked grin revealed the dimple in her left cheek. ‘Did it involve motorbikes—the large, noisy variety?’
‘Amongst other things.’ His nostrils flared. Did she know that the husky intonation in her voice was sheer torture?
Hope gave a soulful sigh. ‘It was an unfulfilled ambition of mine during my dissident period. Young men with motorbikes were strictly forbidden, you see,’ she explained. ‘I think it was more the motorbikes than the young men that worried Mum. She didn’t want any of her daughters ending up in plaster.’ She regarded her plastered leg with a quizzical smile. ‘Not infallible, my mum.’
‘And are you still attracted by forbidden fruit?’ Alex’s brooding regard had darkened with desire as he watched her animated face, the graceful gestures of her elegant hands. She was incredibly beautiful, but it wasn’t just that—it was the aura of warmth she emanated. Mysterious feminine allure and child-like honesty was a bewitching combination. A combination that was eating away at his better judgement.
It had been stimulating, verbally sparring with him, and wallop! He’d had to go and spoil it. ‘Why not just get straight to the point, Alex? Don’t start being squeamish now, ask me outright if I often sleep with married men!’
‘Actually, I was thinking of offering to dig my old leathers out of mothballs.’
The breath escaped from her lungs in a soundless gasp. The message in his eyes would have been impossible to misinterpret. ‘That wouldn’t be necessary,’ she said huskily. ‘I’ve never met anyone as attractive as you.’ That’s it, Hope, she congratulated herself. Play hard to get, why don’t you?
‘They probably wouldn’t fit anyway. I’ve developed a bit since those days.’
‘I can imagine,’ she croaked hoarsely. She had imagined, in some detail. The heat crawled over her skin as her rampant imagination did its worst.
‘I’m older than you.’
‘I’m prettier than you.’
‘Granted…’ The humour that twitched his lips didn’t reach his eyes. They were intent, purposeful and dark. They said things that made dark wings flutter deep in her belly.
‘We could keep this up all night.’
This time the humour did reach his eyes. ‘That could be a mite optimistic.’
She flushed at this crude witticism. ‘About Lloyd…’ Now was probably the time to explain about the Lloyd situation, before things got out of hand.
‘We’ve all done things we regret, Hope.’
‘You don’t understand, Alex…’ she said urgently.
He moved from his side of the table and came towards her. ‘I understand,’ he growled. ‘I understand I want you so badly I can’t think straight.’ He drew her to her feet, or rather foot, and his hands about her waist pulled her hard against him.
Hope leaned heavily against him, allowing his body to support her weight. There was no question that he didn’t have the strength. His fingers pushed into the thick luxuriant mesh of her hair and her eyes closed as he lifted it, letting the silky tresses fall through his fingers.
A small contented sound escaped her lips. This was where she wanted to be—it felt so right. The heat of his body penetrated through the thin wool of the turtleneck she wore. Her sensitised breasts rubbed against the iron hardness of his chest. She luxuriated
in the glorious sensation. The contrast between his angular solidity and her own softness continued to excite her.
‘A glowing angel,’ he murmured throatily against her ear. The waft of his breath on her skin sent shivers of sensation vibrating through her body. His mouth hungrily nuzzled her lower lip, tantalising. He caught the pink tender flesh between his teeth and tugged gently. When his tongue began to trace the outline of her lips she moaned.
‘Do you want to taste me as much I want to taste you, Hope? You can feel how much I want you, can’t you?’ The instinctive sinuous thrust of her hips caught against the hardness of his arousal, and she felt the shock of contact vibrate through his magnificent body.
‘It hurts,’ she whispered. He pulled away far enough for his eyes to focus on hers. ‘Wanting you this much hurts, Alex!’
There was nothing covert about the savage satisfaction that expanded to fill his eyes. ‘I know.’
Her heart pounded slowly in dizzy expectation. ‘About Lloyd…’ She didn’t want anything to get in the way. This was going to be perfect.
He swore. ‘For God’s sake!’
‘But you don’t understand. It isn’t the way you think,’ she said with compelling urgency. She ran a shaky hand over the hard contours of his face. His skin was faintly damp. ‘It isn’t something I’m ashamed of…’
‘I don’t want to hear this.’
‘You have to, Alex.’
‘Maybe you get turned on, reliving the lurid details of your antics with previous lovers, but I don’t.’
Hope recoiled from the contempt in his eyes. I’m a fool, she realised with black despair. This isn’t any different than the last time—he still despises me.
‘What are you doing?’ Being picked up as though she was a small delicate thing was a unique sensation.
‘Where’s your room?’
‘Put me down, Alex. I don’t think Mum intended you to be quite so literal about tucking me in at night.’ Her attempt at lightening humour fell on deaf ears. He was kicking open doors with his booted foot as he strode along the hallway. The study, which had been temporarily converted as her bedroom, was one of the last he approached.
He backed in through the door to protect her injured leg. The hanging rail crammed with her clothes and the vivid Provençal pattern on her quilt cover were incongruous flashes of colour against the book-lined walls. The scent of her perfume hadn’t quite overpowered the years’ accumulation of pipe tobacco, but it overwhelmed Alex—she overwhelmed him. Where Hope Lacey was concerned he had tunnel vision. He couldn’t think about anything else but possessing her.
He tugged back the quilt and laid her down. Hope didn’t even notice the fact that her skirt was bunched around her middle, revealing the lacy edges of her loose silky pants. His eyes never left her face, and the stark expression of raw desire there appalled and excited her. He pulled off his jacket, tugged his loosened tie over his head and began to flick open the buttons on his shirt.
Each frantic, jerky movement ate deeper into her control. His white shirt hung open and she could see the strongly defined musculature of his torso. He was strength and power, without an ounce of surplus flesh to spoil the sculpted effect. This didn’t surprise her; Alex was a disciplined man, who didn’t surrender to self-indulgence.
‘Surrender’—the word evoked a ravishing image of his body astride her own. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. The breadth of his shoulders and chest narrowed dramatically as it merged with his flat washboard belly, and the dark hair that generously covered his chest narrowed to a thin line that disappeared under the waistband of his trousers. His hands moved to the belt that circled his waist.
‘You can’t!’
‘You have to be joking!’ The muscles in his throat worked convulsively as he paused. ‘Are you trying to tell me this isn’t what you want?’ When she didn’t reply his face hardened into lines of hard determination and a spasm of annoyance contorted his features. ‘I don’t care about your past, your lovers—there, does that satisfy you?’
Not when he said it like that, she thought, torn between her own deep, driving need and her conviction this was the wrong way to start a relationship—any relationship—with so much misunderstanding between them.
‘This is a unique moment that is never going to come back, Hope. It’s up to us both to make of it what we choose. If you send me away you’ll always wonder.’ His deep voice was silkily insidious. ‘Forget about the past,’ he advised, ‘and the future. We have here and now.’
Hope was well aware of the flaws in this argument. Consequences of the present had a habit of haunting the future. Maybe this was going to be the only time for them, a persuasive voice persisted. But wasn’t wondering the safer option?
CHAPTER FIVE
‘YOU were very sure I’d say yes, weren’t you?’ Hope lifted her head from its cradle on his chest and looked enquiringly into his face.
‘If you hadn’t, anaesthetic is the only thing that would have got me through this night sane—with the possible exception of a bottle of malt.’
His sincerity brought a satisfied smile to Hope’s lips. Did Alex always look this relaxed and mellow afterwards? she wondered. Her secret blush was hidden by the darkness. She had no regrets. Only a crazy person could have regretted anything so mind-blowingly perfect.
‘Will you class me as an insensitive brute if I fall asleep?’ He pushed aside her hair and pressed his lips to the side of her neck.
‘I think you’ve earned it,’ she teased softly.
He slept almost immediately, his head resting on the upper slopes of her breasts. Listening to the regular sound of his breathing, Hope stroked her long fingers through his hair.
She was relaxed, but wide awake. Excited, but calm. Her look of submission hadn’t been enough for him. He’d wanted—or maybe needed—to hear her say it. The memory brought a rush of heat to her skin.
‘I want you to make love to me, Alex.’ The hot, hazy blankness that had entered his eyes had been frightening.
For a split second fear of the unknown had swamped her desire. She’d had little experience to draw on for comparisons, but her brief affair with Hugh had never been frightening or unpredictable. He’d been a generous lover and, even if the earth hadn’t moved, she’d enjoyed the warmth and laughter of their intimacy. The raw savagery on Alex’s drawn features represented something alien to her. She’d watched the muscles bunch and strain in his arms. He was incredibly strong. What if he lost control…?
‘Relax.’ He must have caught her sudden flurry of doubt. ‘When I said I wasn’t going to leap on you I meant it.’ He cupped her chin in one hand and she moved her head and pressed her lips to his palm. ‘Shall we level things out a bit?’ he suggested throatily.
She obediently lifted her arms as he took hold of her sweater and he pulled it over her head. The hardened tips of her breasts peaked further and swelled beneath the white cropped cotton top she wore. It left her curves hidden, but sexily explicit. She knew her body was better than adequate, but despite this confidence, she experienced a sudden anxiety to please.
‘I would have worn something a little more adventurous if I’d known.’ The sweep of his straight dark lashes hid his expression from her eyes. What was he thinking? Did he like what he saw?
‘You can’t enhance what is perfect.’ He raised his eyes and she knew it wasn’t disappointment she read on his face. His features were taut with need, his eyes lightened by silver streaks of raw desire.
She inhaled sharply as his hand came up to cover her left breast. She watched as the flat of his big hand moved slowly over the firm swell. She closed her eyes as her nipple tingled and burned. His hand moved with agonising slowness over the tight, firm flesh of her midriff, stopping only when his fingers slid beneath the waistband of her wraparound skirt.
‘How does this thing come off?’ His voice sounded thick and hardly recognisable.
The desire that filled her was viscous and honey-sweet. Her tongue felt
too slow to form a reply. ‘A button, here.’ She touched his hand. The contact sizzled through her. ‘And here,’ she whispered huskily.
‘Do it for me.’
The simple request sent an erotic thrill through her body. She raised herself from the pillows and flicked each button open. The skirt unwound and she pulled it free.
Alex took it from her grasp and flung the garment across the room. The muscles in his chest rippled. With a small cry she leant forward and placed both her hands flat against his skin.
‘You wouldn’t believe how badly I’ve wanted to touch you.’ His muscles contracted under her touch and she felt dizzy with desire. ‘How badly I’ve wanted to taste you.’ Her head dipped forward and her tongue lashed experimentally across one hard, flat nipple. Both her arms slid under his arms and her hands curved over his shoulderblades, kneading his hard flesh as she brought her face closer. There was the sound of Alex’s harsh breathing intermingled with tiny whimpering noises which Hope didn’t connect with herself.
After a few moments Alex’s fingers wound into the glistening strands of her tangled hair, and with one hoarse cry he yanked her head away.
Hope’s glance was hot and hazy. ‘Why did you do that?’ she protested. She cast a swift, frustrated glance at the cast on her leg and silently cursed the immobility that took the initiative from her.
‘You’re driving me crazy!’
‘Isn’t that the idea?’ She wanted to drive him crazy. She wanted to hear him cry out in pleasure.
The darting, sultry glance of her eyes had a way of stripping the civilised veneer that was all he had left to hold his responses in check. ‘Definitely,’ he agreed firmly. ‘Only I’m going to be crippled for life if I don’t take these off.’ His hands moved to the waistband of his trousers.
He had his back to her as the trousers obeyed gravity. He stepped out of them, and a pair of boxers followed suit. His behind was tight and muscular, and she was still admiring it when he turned around.
‘Would wow come over as tackily coarse?’ She swallowed and felt the colour burn her cheeks. Her flippancy didn’t hide the flattering awe in her eyes, and the way his unrestricted arousal stirred seemed to indicate she hadn’t overstepped the bounds of decency in his eyes.