A rush of emotion swamped him. She was incredible. How he wished he could be different. How he wished he could open up his heart and pursue the kind of happiness his brother appeared to have found. The happiness he was so sure Johansson and Julia had on the horizon.
The kind of happiness she’d once thought she’d shared with Charles. Fucking Charles—how could the man have had her for five fucking years and done what he did?
Anger rushed his veins. ‘For what it’s worth,’ he said darkly, ‘Charles was a fool. He had it all in you.’
Her eyes shot to his, their sudden brightness screaming volumes, and his gut twisted up. What the fuck are you doing? Saying something so sweeping, so dramatic and so...fucking soft. It screamed of emotions he didn’t feel. Of a desire to commit that absolutely wasn’t there. And yet, out the words had come, from a place he couldn’t control, where his thoughts were on exactly that. How could that man have had her as his own, made a home with her and then played away? It made no sense.
And then it made total sense. It was the way his parents had been, the way Julia’s ex had been. The way...
No, he stopped himself short—it wasn’t how he was. He never committed, never gave false hope, never offered a relationship. He had no interest in monogamy. It wasn’t in his nature.
So why the hell say it?
Because she has you captivated. Because she makes you want to talk, to open up. Because she makes you want to be the better person.
And isn’t that part of her appeal? What makes you want her?
Something stirred deep inside and he frowned at the road. It didn’t matter the reasoning, he wanted her, and he didn’t back away from what he wanted. The consequences, whatever they might be, could come later.
She retracted her hand, folding it into her lap. ‘Thank you for saying that.’
Her voice was so soft, so thoughtful. He slipped her a look beneath his lashes and his stress evaporated. She looked so goddamn delicious. His comment had brought out a glow in her cheeks, her eyes still shone, and all he wanted was to roll back the seat and reacquaint himself with every stretch of her perfect skin. Bury his own unease in the ecstasy they could so easily conjure.
But she hadn’t agreed to cross that line...not yet.
He forced his attention onto the road. Off her smoky grey eyes that he wanted to lose himself in; off her lips, so full and appealing as they glistened in soft pink today; off her dress, and the way the red fabric fell over the gentle swell of her breasts, hinting at the perfect rose-tipped nubs; off her delicate waist and her legs, bare from the mid-thigh down, and definitely off her cute red-tipped toes that peeked from her heeled sandals.
Hell, summer could bring torture in itself.
‘Maybe I will drive after all.’
His eyes shot to hers.
Caught gawping while driving could easily be a new traffic offence.
He gave a lopsided grin and shook his head, as much at her as himself. ‘You shouldn’t have worn that dress if you expected me to focus.’
‘I may have had an ulterior motive.’
His heart raced.
Was she saying...? Was it possible?
‘An ulterior motive, you say?’
Her fingers dropped to toy with the hem of her dress, teasing him with little glimpses of more. ‘Perhaps...’
‘Care to share?’
‘I think it’s more fun for you to find out,’ she said, and the sultry heat to her gaze almost had him pulling the car over anew. ‘But for now, I think it will serve us well for you to concentrate on the road.’
She turned away, her hands shifting back to grasp her tablet, and telling him the moment had passed. For her. He was still in the thick of it. And with it came a weird sense of panic. Now convinced the line was about to expire, that he could have her, was it right?
He wanted her. She wanted him. But was she looking for more? Was he letting his desire drown out all the warning signals? The signals that had kept him free of emotional baggage, free of this...
And what was this?
He’d never wanted a woman as he wanted her.
So who was he really trying to protect: her or him?
His chest tightened, and he tried to forget it, to think on less troubling things, like the curve of her legs outstretched beside him, but it was no good. The woman to which they belonged didn’t just trigger desire any more, she had set off an emotional torrent within him that he couldn’t understand.
He was still trying to rationalise it away over an hour later, the journey having been spent in a strange silence, broken only as often as was polite to engage in the odd remark, mainly from her.
‘You’d love living in Hertfordshire. It’s beautiful out this way—a real getaway from the city. You know, the house we’re viewing already has a lot of interest; I’m hoping you’ll like it, but it’s a bit of a risk based on the info I’ve gleaned from you.’
And so on. All of it tame and professional, and way off the elephant filling the intimate cabin with a thrumming tension.
He didn’t know where concern over his own confused feelings ended, and his concern that she would want more began.
‘This is it,’ she piped up, her sudden excitement palpable, and he looked to her, to all that was happy and alive in her face, and realised his concern for her far outweighed his own. Julia’s warning struck home, as did his own. She wasn’t right for him.
‘Take the next left.’
He looked to where she indicated, to a private drive lined with trees, and he nodded to it. ‘Through there?’
‘Yes.’
He swung the car onto the gravel, taking it slow as the tyres crunched over the loose road surface, and he grimaced. ‘It’s pretty, but I wouldn’t say it’s bodywork friendly.’
‘That can be easily remedied.’
‘True,’ he acknowledged, although his tone was distracted, a heavy feeling swelling in his chest.
‘I’m glad you agree.’ He felt her smile at him and his determination wavered, his weakness where she was concerned never more pronounced.
When had he become so weak, so driven by emotion?
‘Just keep that in mind when you see the rest.’
He eyed her warily. Just what was that supposed to mean?
‘Like I said earlier, this one is a little bit of a risk, but it will help me gauge where you’re truly at,’ she said, still with that pulse-invigorating smile. ‘I like to start with something like this just to ensure we don’t miss any real opportunities.’
‘Fair enough.’
He continued down the drive, the trees concealing the house from view until he rounded a corner onto an open courtyard and drew the car to a stop.
‘Isn’t she beautiful?’ came her soft-spoken remark.
He looked to her, to the flush in her skin and the brightness of her eyes, and lost himself, his response coming easily. ‘Very.’
She met his eye, the hint of a smile in her glossy lips. ‘You’re not even looking.’
No, he wasn’t.
Kristus, get with it!
He gave a grin, masking his wayward thoughts, and leant over the steering wheel to sweep his gaze up and over the house. It was appealing and there was something homely about it despite its imposing size. Probably due to the vine that crept over the walls, softening the large expanse of soft yellow stone.
‘It’s a repossession,’ she said, dropping her gaze to the door and seeking the handle to get out.
‘Here,’ he said, leaning across her, and she gave a sharp intake of breath, her tummy drawing in where his arm brushed across her. He looked to her face, only millimetres away, and his mouth dried up, the air too thick to take in as he stilled.
Her eyes dropped to his mouth and she tugged on her lower lip with her teeth, releasing it slick and inviting—lust explo
ded within him, his mind buried in the onslaught. He swivelled his body, his hand reaching up to clasp her neck, drawing her lips to his, desperate and demanding.
God, she was sweet, minty, with a hint of whatever flavour the gloss brought with. His brain clouded over, the warmth spreading like wildfire through his gut. He couldn’t draw breath, couldn’t think of anything but the taste and feel of her; of her delicate tongue as it slipped and teased against his own; of the little whimpers breaking free in the back of her throat; of her pulse beating wildly beneath his fingers hooked around her neck.
‘Is this what you meant by ulterior motive?’ He spoke against her lips, refusing to part for more than the words needed.
‘Uh-huh,’ she hurried out, her hands coming up to thrust through his hair, just as hungry, just as caught up. He was doing her a service, fuck being honourable.
Don’t be a dick.
It was his sister’s voice that pierced his brain and he released her, taking in deep, sanity-bringing breaths. ‘We shouldn’t do this. You were right,’ he said between pants, risking a glance and seeing all that was sexy, alluring but also vulnerable in her exquisite face.
She shook her head, a dazed frown forming. ‘No, I wasn’t.’
‘I don’t do relationships.’
The crease between her brow deepened and he had to fight not to kiss it away. ‘I know you don’t.’
‘Then this...’
‘This is just sex, pure and simple.’ Her frown eased, her words so matter-of-fact.
He eyed her, disbelief giving way to far more base urges. ‘Are you sure?’
She nodded. ‘Do I really have to convince you?’
Before he could answer, she fisted her hand in his shirt, yanking him in, her mouth crushing his with such force, such need, the fire exploded, the strain against his jeans so fierce it made him wince but still his cock thrust, desperation sending him bucking against the constriction. Her hand dropped to seek him out, her fingers brazen over the fastening of his trousers, working it undone.
Skit, they were out of control.
He opened his eyes, peered through the glass; the house looked deserted, but was it? He was about to ask when her hand slipped inside his clothing, her fingers wrapping around him—‘Fuck.’
He dropped his gaze to where she held him, her hand fighting with the restricted space to move over him, and he pulsed in her grasp, pre-cum slipping through her fist.
He wanted more. Needed more. He shimmied his jeans lower and swept a hand to her thigh, loving her soft heat beneath his palm. He brushed upwards, his intent turning hazy as she started to pump over his cock.
He screwed his eyes tight and pressed his head against hers, the muscles of his thighs rigid with his need to stave it off. ‘I’m going to make a mess of my car if you keep this up.’
‘No, you won’t,’ she breathed, brushing his hand away.
He opened his eyes to look at her. ‘I want to touch you.’
‘And I want to taste you,’ she said, her head lowering as his cock all but exploded in her fist, and likely would have done if she hadn’t let go that second to use her hands to reposition herself.
She clambered up, her knees pressing into the side of the centre console as she angled over him, encouraging his own body to fall back into his seat, his hand reaching out to brush through her hair as he lost himself in the hunger of her gaze. Then she dropped her lashes, her focus on his dick as her fingers slipped gloriously around the throbbing heart of him. He clamped his jaw tight, heat streaking through his thighs, through his gut, the blood congregating at his head painfully acute and then she wrapped her tongue around him, lapping every drop of pre-cum and sending his mind dizzy with lack of oxygen.
Breathe, goddamn it.
He was losing it, so wholly and completely, he bucked upwards, pushing for more, and she treated him to a peck at his tip. ‘Patience.’
‘Fuck.’ He was trying, he was always steady in the sack, always in control, right till the very end, but she was making it impossible. Just as she was in life.
Her mouth came down over him. Once, twice, and then she drew him deeper in, hard and deep. Fireworks went off behind his lids, his head thrown back against the seat. Up and down she milked him, sweet little sounds erupting deep within her throat. Her own excitement calling his hand to her as he reached under her curved form, under the floaty fabric of her dress, seeking out the wetness he knew he’d find. It was there before he even reached the trim of her underwear, its slickness over her thighs almost pushing him to the edge, and he seethed between his teeth, forcing down the ache, his free hand gripping the arm rest in the door.
And then he slipped beneath the lace, his fingers surrounded by her wetness, her neatly trimmed pussy offering up no protection from the fact that she dripped for him.
Hell, yeah.
He bowed his head, his eyes taking in her head bobbing over his cock; he’d never wanted to draw a moment out so bad in his life. ‘You feel so good,’ he said, his fingers sliding within her seam, her slickened warmth welcoming him in, and she bucked against his hand, a moan reverberating around his cock.
‘You like that?’ He swirled over her pea-like nub and she writhed, her murmurs fervent and urgent. He was using her need, focusing on it, to slow himself down, but it was turning into his undoing. His tempo ratcheting as her breathing turned ragged around him, her fist pumping wild and tight beneath her mouth.
Their sounds filled the cabin: her sucking lips, the slapping of her wetness around his fingers, the moans neither could suppress. And he lost it, the force of his orgasm sending his butt off his seat, his cock smacking the back of her throat, his cum with it.
She clenched around him, her own body racked with waves as her climax took hold, and still she took his all, drinking him down, her satisfied moans so erotic, her movement captivating. He watched her intently, his fingers cupping against her as she rode it out, and then gently he slipped his hand away, out from beneath her pants and to his lips, tasting her as her head lifted.
‘You taste as good as you look.’
Her cheeks were flushed, her smile sultry, her hair as wild as her eyes as she looked to him and his chest contracted, his lungs winded.
‘You too,’ she said, licking her lips as she dropped back into her seat and righted her hair, her composure falling back into place and stunning him still. ‘You ready to see what this baby has to offer?’
She gestured to the house and it took a moment for him to recover, a moment for his hands to obey his bidding and right his jeans.
She was ruining him, not the other way around.
CHAPTER TEN
‘YOU’RE TRYING TO get me to disengage your services, aren’t you?’
Zara smiled to herself. Daniel had just followed her into the final room of the house, the orangery, or at least it would have been an orangery in its heyday. Now it was a nest of weeds with grand ornamental features being drowned out by a variety of foliage. But it was still beautiful and telling of a history that she would love to know.
She turned and smiled at him, the glorious sun warming her through the glass. ‘Not at all. I’m gauging your reaction to a little bit of work.’
‘A little?’ His eyes opened wide, his hands stuffed into his pockets as they had been most of the way around the house; she’d hazard a guess that he was scared of catching something. ‘This is more than a little.’
‘Well, it’s not like you’d be getting your own hands dirty,’ she reasoned. ‘And besides, a man like you needs to make his mark. What’s the point in buying something finished when you’re only going to want to change it anyway?’
She walked to the double doors that led outside and turned the key that rested in the lock, pushing them open and stepping out. Her eyes swept the landscaped garden, taking in its original form, the beautiful arrangements of flowers, shrubs and, at it
s heart, a water feature that probably hadn’t seen a drop in at least a decade. It was utterly charming. Or at least it could be.
He came up alongside her and she sent him a sidelong glance. ‘At least buying something like this you won’t be paying over the odds and tearing it apart to make it yours. You’ll be able to start afresh and not waste a penny.’
He studied her for a moment, and she turned to face him properly, her head cocking with a smile. ‘See, you know it makes sense.’
His own smile grew with hers and he shook his head, looking back at the building and turning to take in the grounds. ‘I can see your point.’
‘Good.’
‘But I wonder if it’s wasted on me, these extensive grounds and no children to terrorise them.’
He said it with a trace of humour in his voice. But all she heard was no children and the simple statement clutched at her chest. Which was madness. There was no future with him. There never would be. Why couldn’t her body get the message and stop the emotional sing-song in her blood at everything he did or said?
Just do your job...
‘Granted it’s a fabulous home for a family, but the grounds are adaptable—maybe you could consider doing something with them. Your own race track, perhaps?’
She said it suggestively, flirtatiously even, her professional front sliding perfectly in place, and she watched his eyes come alive. It was an encouraging sign, on the house-selling front. So why did her belly feel as if a brick had settled in?
‘Have I told you already how good you are at your job?’
‘You have...’ she forced her voice to keep its flirtatious tilt ‘...but you can always tell me again.’
The heat of his gaze, of his appreciation, held her captive, the air around them falling silent save for the wildlife. Her momentary sadness fading away.
‘You are so good in many ways.’
He wasn’t thinking on her expertise, the house, the grounds, the purchase, not any more, of that she was certain.
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