When he took her in his arms to dance and felt how soft and vulnerable she was beneath the simple cotton dress, he knew that nothing with Kimmie would ever be simple. He wanted things with her he’d never thought about before, like a family of his own and someone to share it with. Was the renowned hard man mellowing, the playboy finally considering settling down? Kimmie was an independent woman with ideas of her own about how to live her life. Could she ever truly fit into his? When and if he married, his wife would have no choice but to fall into line and keep pace with his business agenda. His interests were so vast, and his duty towards the people who depended on him for their livelihoods so vitally important, why was he contemplating marrying a boho bride who marched to such a very different beat?
Kimmie pulled away from him and stared into his face, almost as if she had sensed the track his thoughts were taking. She was so sensitive and they were tuned in to each other so acutely it was uncanny. He pulled her close again and heard her sigh. She knew as well as he did that this dance could be a prequel to sex. Had she come to a decision where that was concerned? His mind once more turned back to the knotty problem of marriage. Surely she could learn to be accepting of privileges he took for granted? Many doors would open for her thanks to the Kaimos name. Money would pour into Kimmie’s scholarship fund as the great and good stood in line to win his favour. Whatever else she did or didn’t agree to, he believed Kimmie would stick doggedly to her pledge to help other young, disadvantaged artists. Whichever way he looked at it, marriage wasn’t such a bad option for either of them. He certainly couldn’t see a downside for Kimmie. It would be win-win all the way for her.
* * *
The instant Kris’s arms closed around her, Kimmie felt like a helium balloon soaring high above the crowd. Every part of her was tuned to him, and she was more aware than she’d ever been that this feeling was unique. No one had ever made her see the world in such sharp focus. Mike had always made her feel as if he was doing her a favour—which he was, she had believed at the time—and she’d been so grateful that his interest had only increased with her growing success. She had tried to show her appreciation in silly ways—a few cartoons for him to hang on the wall of his flat...but he hadn’t wanted them. Another time she’d knitted him a tie, using paintbrushes as her needles. ‘What were you thinking,’ he’d said, ‘imagining I’d wear something like this? But I love you,’ he’d added absently, glancing at the cheque in his hand for one of her paintings. ‘You’re such a clever girl...’
‘Where are you now?’ Kris asked, distracting her out of unwelcome memories.
‘You don’t want to know,’ she said slowly.
‘Maybe I do...’
‘Okay, I’m reviewing what you might call my gullible, desperate period, to use artistic terminology.’
‘And where do you find yourself now?’
‘In my frying pan and fire period,’ she said flippantly.
He laughed and they danced on.
Under the most unusual circumstances, to be sure, but wasn’t this just a holiday romance? Was her judgement any better this time around?
Kris’s embrace tightened as if he sensed her troubled mind. She felt so safe in his arms, and even that was a dangerous temptation.
‘Have you had enough for now?’ he asked.
Unseen, she smiled. Could she start again? It wasn’t that easy for anyone.
‘Would you like to leave?’ he prompted.
‘Sorry, I was away in a world of my own somewhere.’
‘Can I join you?’ Kris murmured.
Maybe her pencil had lied this time when she’d drawn that hard, driven man. Right now Kris seemed so tender and sympathetic. And the humour was back in his eyes...his amazing, beautiful, expressive eyes.
Was she really so naïve? A mere one day on from absolute betrayal and she was walking eagerly into something so big and powerful it was more likely to sweep her off her feet and dump her in a drain than transport her safely back to home shores.
* * *
He drove her back to the beach house. Seeing the property through Kimmie’s eyes was like seeing it for the first time. He relied on agents to find houses for him. Any particular requirements he might have were easily catered for and arranged between one of his PAs and the agency. He’d never had cause to complain before, and neither had anyone else, but Kimmie had clearly thought the place sterile and cold. Could she change it? More importantly, would he let her? Did he want it to be changed? Everything worked. He’d never detected any flaws before.
‘I’m going to see it all this time,’ she said with an air of expectancy.
‘I tremble,’ he teased.
‘No need to tremble,’ she said with a wry shake of her head. ‘I’m sure it’s still every bit as fabulous as I remember.’
‘But too big for one man,’ he reminded her.
‘Did I say that?’ She pressed her lips down, but her eyes were twinkling. ‘How rude of me.’
He smiled, and then she glanced away from him as they drove by his private harbour, where a number of different craft were rising and falling in time to the ocean, dark shadows swaying in time to their own music in the moonlight. ‘Impressive,’ she said.
‘Something else you’d like to paint?’ he guessed.
‘I’m not sure I’ll be here long enough to record everything.’ She paused and turned to look at him. ‘I want to get you down on paper first.’
‘That has to be the first time a woman has ever said that to me,’ he confessed.
‘I don’t want to hear about your other women,’ she reprimanded.
‘I’m duly rebuked. But don’t you have enough sketches of me by now?’
‘Not from every angle, dressed and undressed,’ she admitted with complete frankness.
‘Undressed?’ he exclaimed, taken aback.
‘Why not?’ she said candidly. ‘Life classes were my favourite at college. They say you can judge a book by its cover, but I prefer to remove the dust jacket and get right down to brass tacks.’
‘You might find a lot more than you expected.’
‘I’ll take my chances on that, though understand this, Kris Kaimos,’ she said with a direct look that made him raise an eyebrow. ‘I might be inexperienced when it comes to romance but, as an artist, when it comes to the male form I’ve already seen everything.’
‘Fair enough,’ he said, choosing not to disagree.
‘Last chance for me to take you back to the guest house,’ he warned as they approached the turning, ‘so if you’d rather leave my unveiling for another day, you’d better say now.’
She shot him a glance. ‘Do you want to take me back?’
‘I want to swim,’ he said honestly. Most of all, he didn’t want to rush this.
‘You want to swim?’ she queried with a disbelieving frown.
‘I need to cool down. Something wrong with that?’
‘Nothing, but I thought you were taking me to see the artist’s studio?’
‘Afterwards,’ he said. ‘I promise there’ll be time for everything.’
‘Thanks. As a professional observer, it’s important for me to see where people live, and how they live. The more I learn about you, the more layered your portrait will be.’
‘Oh, forget about that for now. Just paint me while I’m swimming in the water. That will tell you all you need to know.’
‘Power and drive, and getting where you want to go at high speed and as straight as an arrow?’ she suggested.
‘It doesn’t always work out like that.’ Not with Kimmie, certainly. ‘Why don’t you join me for a swim?’
‘I don’t have a costume.’
‘Neither do I,’ he pointed out.
‘Kris Kaimos,’ she said, acting shocked. ‘What are you suggesting?’
‘One of those life classes you mentioned.’
That kept her quiet, and she said nothing more until they reached the side of the pool. The lighting scheme here was genius. It meant she could see clearly, swim naked, and still feel cloaked to some extent in shadow.
‘You’re a very lucky man,’ she remarked in a tone that suggested to him that she was already sketching the scene in her mind. ‘Do you mind me painting some scenes from here when I get home?’ she asked. ‘I mean, if you’d rather keep your home life private, I totally understand.’
‘Generally, I do like to keep it private,’ he admitted, ‘but scenes in isolation could be located anywhere in the world. Surely it’s up to the artist to convey the mood and purpose of a subject, without necessarily revealing its location.’
‘You really get this, don’t you?’ she mused.
‘I get you,’ he countered.
‘You think you do,’ she corrected him quietly.
‘Meaning?’
She stared at him for a few intense moments which left him utterly convinced that what he needed was a challenge like Kimmie Lancaster in his life, and maybe she needed him just as badly in hers.
‘I’m starting to know you,’ he amended. ‘Others might sell their paintings for personal gain, but not you. In fact, I wish you would.’
‘You can’t change me.’
‘I wouldn’t want to.’
‘If my paintings of you and of Kaimos do sell well, it’s also to my advantage,’ she pointed out frankly. ‘The publicity would be incredible.’
‘And you deserve that sort of break.’
‘How do you know?’ she asked. ‘Maybe you should wait and see what I come up with before you say things like that. It might be rubbish,’ she fired back.
‘I doubt that somehow. Though it does mean we’d have to see each other again,’ he said, acting as if this was a problem.
‘Not necessarily,’ she argued, calling his bluff. ‘You can visit an exhibition without meeting the artist.’
A timely reminder that Kimmie was her own woman—always had been, always would be—and in all honesty he couldn’t blame her. She’d somehow scrambled out of a troubled childhood relatively unscathed, and then she’d tried to ally herself to a man who’d proved totally unworthy of her. It was no wonder that art was her rock now. ‘Do you have a venue in mind for the exhibition?’
‘Not exactly,’ she admitted, ‘but I’ll find somewhere, even if it’s a village hall. The swish London gallery that hosted my last exhibition is usually booked out months in advance. The owners might not consider my next collection, as their preference is for drama and darkness, which was why my childhood retrospective held such strong appeal for them. I created the body of work for my finals at college, never expecting I would sell it to the public, but it’s customary for gallery owners to view the work of students who are leaving college, and I was lucky enough to be taken up.’
‘You say it was dark?’ he queried, remembering with a frown what she’d told him of her early life.
‘Pretty grim, to be honest,’ she admitted, ‘though I think working on it was actually healing for me. I managed to visit all the dark corners in my mind and lay them down on canvas, in the light, for all to see, where they couldn’t do any more harm. I guess lots of people could relate to that, because they sold out right away. Now I’m going to turn from the dark side to making people smile, but that might not go down so well commercially.’
‘You won’t know until you try,’ he commented.
‘True,’ she said, ‘and I’m determined that my next collection will zing with sunshine and happiness so everyone leaves smiling. Life’s hard enough without always hanging the dark side on the wall.’ She shrugged and grinned. ‘We’ll just have to see how this change of direction goes down.’
‘Time for that swim,’ he announced. The more he learned about Kimmie, the more he wanted her, so much so that right now he badly needed cold water and plenty of it.
* * *
Kris’s expression was hidden in shadow. It was so easy talking to him. Too easy, maybe. A man as successful as Kristof Kaimos was hardly likely to be uncomplicated, so why was he devoting so much time to a fledgling artist without a penny to her name and certainly no social standing? Did he have an agenda? If so, what was it? And did things need to go any deeper between them? Couldn’t she just enjoy tonight?
‘Swim first, explore later,’ she confirmed. Why not?
Maybe because Kris’s thumb was already lodged in the back of his top and, as he dragged it over his head, the sight of his naked torso made her heart thunder.
‘Your turn,’ he prompted, shucking off his jeans.
Her limbs were glued in place. Even if she’d still been holding her sketchbook, she doubted she would have the ability to record such perfection.
‘Something wrong?’ he asked casually.
Did he really not know? Kris clearly had no inhibitions.
Would you with a body like that?
Might look a bit odd on me, but...
‘You’re laughing?’ he asked, a hint of outrage in his tone.
‘Not at you. Just at the thought of me getting naked and standing next to you.’
‘We’re not posing for a painting. There won’t be much standing around.’
‘Yes, but you seem to find it really easy...doing the Michelangelo thing, I mean...and I’m just not sure I will.’
‘You wear underwear, don’t you?’
‘None of your business,’ she warned.
‘It will be soon,’ Kris pointed out, grinning.
She swallowed hard as his teeth flashed white in the moonlight. Oh, what the heck? Her underwear was nothing if not respectable. Some might even call it boring. There was a lot to be said for underwear bought in packs of three. It was certainly more concealing than her bikini. Now all she had to do was keep her own gaze under control, and remember not to look at Kris below his non-existent belt.
‘Are you recording the specifics for later consideration?’ he suggested wickedly when she failed miserably to keep her pledge even as she whipped off her dress.
‘It’s important to get the detail right,’ she insisted, tongue firmly lodged in her cheek, while her heart beat at the speed of a hummingbird’s wings as she asked herself for the umpteenth time since meeting Kris: What was she doing here?
‘Of course it is,’ Kris agreed in the same teasing tone.
‘Or I could just go for direct action,’ she threatened. Launching herself at him, she tried to take him down. The pool was just behind him.
Kris didn’t move.
She had badly misjudged her target.
‘Playing games, are we?’ He advanced one silent step at a time.
‘No,’ she warned, holding up her hands as she backed away. ‘I like to get into the pool slowly.’
‘This isn’t your lucky day then, is it?’
She screamed as they hit the pool in tandem.
Things happened so fast after that. Kris’s strong arms were wrapped around her. He was in his depth. She was not. Supporting her in the water, he drove his mouth down on hers.
Yes...yes...yes!
Whatever had happened up to this moment, nothing had ever felt like this. The combination of cold and heat, hard and soft sharpened Kimmie’s awareness to an almost painful degree. The salt of the water and Kris’s minty fresh taste pummelled her senses and so did his hands as they held and supported, touched and caressed. The way he made her feel, everything about him, about this, came together and made sense. Winding her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist seemed the next obvious move and, before she knew it, she was kissing him back.
CHAPTER EIGHT
WHEN HE RAISED his head she was breathless. ‘Don’t ever do that again,’ she gasped. ‘I don’t swim as well as you.’
‘No more kisses,’ Kris agreed.
&n
bsp; ‘That’s not what I meant and you know it.’
He smiled. Deliciously wet and wickedly handsome, he now declared, ‘I don’t know what you’re worried about. I’ll always save you.’
‘I don’t need saving.’
‘Don’t you?’ he whispered. And then he kissed her again, proving her wrong.
She certainly didn’t want to be saved from this situation. After a lifetime of fearing sex because of her mother’s experience at her father’s hands, she felt—no, she knew with utter certainty—that it would be different with Kris. She wanted this incredible night to remember for ever. A feeling had lodged deep inside her that said it would heal her, pleasure her and allow her to know, however briefly, how it felt to be close to someone, to be one with them and to trust again. Closing her eyes, she rejoiced in the strength and beauty of Kris’s body. Enfolded in his arms, she felt so safe. This might be an illusion that only lasted one night but while she had it she’d hold on tight.
‘Hussy,’ Kris mock scolded as she rubbed herself shamelessly against his body. She’d never been so bold before, but her usual behaviour had flown out of the window. ‘You feel amazing over these prim little pants,’ he observed as she groaned openly with pleasure. ‘Plump, warm and inviting,’ he commented in a matter-of-fact tone. She was certainly incapable of speech. ‘Nice?’ he murmured as he caressed her again.
Was he seriously asking that question? Kris could have no idea how good it felt. Mapping her contours over her suddenly thrillingly inadequate pants, he really did have the most intuitive touch.
‘You have no idea,’ she whispered hoarsely.
‘I think I do,’ he argued in a husky tone as streams of honeyed desire surged through her veins.
Encouraging her to relax the grip of her legs around his waist, he held her in the water so she was floating. Allowing her thighs to part a little allowed more intimate touches, she discovered. Being pleasured so skilfully soon had her teetering on the edge. She’d waited so long for this she couldn’t wait any longer. Her body was his to command.
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