A Contract Seduction

by Janice Maynard

  Incredibly arousing and erotically eye-opening, but still a disturbing moment. He’d never had sex like that with any woman. Not that the mechanics were so very different. But it was the mood, the way his body responded as if his arousal and his sexual response had been conditioned by the scent of her skin and the sound of her voice.

  He slid out of bed and visited the facilities. Lisette was still deeply asleep, so he grabbed a quick shower. When he walked back into the bedroom—towel tied at his hips—her eyes were open.

  She lifted up on her elbows. The sheet slithered below her breasts. His towel tented in the front. “Good morning,” she said huskily.

  “Good morning to you.” He couldn’t do a thing in the world about the lewdly fashioned terry cloth at his groin.

  Lisette pretended not to notice. “Does the maid come first thing?”

  “I was told there would be plenty of food in the fridge for breakfast and lunch. Sunday is her day off. We’re all alone.”

  Those incredible pale green eyes studied him intently. “Is that information I need to know?”

  It was impossible to miss the challenge in her gaze. He nodded slowly. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

  “Worry?”

  “You know. About being interrupted. This bedroom is entirely private. Off-limits.”

  “Ah.”

  He sat down on the edge of the mattress. “Did you sleep well?”

  “I must have. I don’t really recall last night. I think I was dead to the world.”

  “That’s a shame. Parts of it were pretty damned spectacular.”

  Her lips twitched. “Oh, that part. Yeah. I remember that.”

  He ditched the towel and reached for her. “How hungry are you on a scale of one to ten?” Lifting her on top of him, he stroked her bottom.

  Her chest heaved in a sigh. “I had my heart set on an omelet, but an appetizer might be nice.”

  He took a moment to enjoy the view. With her hair tousled and her pale skin warm from their bed, just looking at her gave him an odd ache in his chest. She was easier with him now, less tentative. Last night had cemented something in their relationship.

  “At the risk of sounding like a sex-obsessed male,” he said, “I have to tell you your breasts are spectacular.” Firm, smooth flesh. Raspberry tips. A sudden vision of his wife nursing their child flashed into his mind. He knew Lisette wanted a baby. She had made that very clear. The prospect of trying to get her pregnant fried his brain. It was too soon to make a decision like that, but suddenly, it wasn’t out of the question.

  “Be honest,” he said, breathing heavily. “You wore that dress last night to drive me insane.”

  “It was a hot evening.” Her smile was innocent.

  He snorted. “It’s hot in Charleston, but I’ve never seen you in anything remotely similar.”

  “You only see me at work. Maybe I dress like that all the time when I’m out on the town.”

  He pulled her down for a quick kiss. “Do you?”

  “No.”

  * * *

  Lisette realized that things were escalating rapidly. Unfortunately, she badly needed to visit the bathroom and freshen up. “Jonathan?”

  “Hmm?” He nibbled the side of her neck, just below her right ear.

  She shuddered. “Give me three minutes,” she said, scrambling off her provocative perch and fleeing. In the bathroom, she closed the door, hoping he didn’t hear the quiet snick of the lock. She needed privacy, but more than that, she needed a moment to steady her thoughts, to find solid ground.

  After taking care of urgent needs, she did a few quick ablutions, then leaned forward on the vanity and studied her face in the mirror. She was a married woman now. A legal part of Jonathan’s life. Whatever faced them, she would be with him day after day. His wife, for better or worse.

  When she had awakened a little while ago and spotted him standing in the doorway, he almost seemed like a stranger. In all the years she had known him, never once had she seen him unshaven. Today, dark stubble shadowed his firm jaw, giving him a rakish air. The change was unexpected, but she definitely liked it. Scruffy Jonathan was even more appealing than tuxedo-clad Jonathan.

  She returned to the bedroom with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. Daylight sex was different. Harder for a woman to hide an extra five pounds or pretend to be a seductress when in reality she was anything but.

  Jonathan was looking at his phone, but he tossed it aside as soon as she appeared. His smile made her toes curl against the cool tile. “Hey,” he said, his greeting warm and husky. “Come join me.”

  Though she felt shy even now, he didn’t have to ask her twice. She chewed her bottom lip, trying not to notice the way her stomach flipped and went into free fall when Jonathan pulled her close and stroked her arm. Her arm, for Pete’s sake. When he eventually moved to other body parts, she would be a goner.

  She cleared her throat. “What would you like to do today?” she asked, wincing inwardly at hearing herself. She sounded like a perky travel agent.

  Her husband’s low chuckle didn’t help her embarrassment. “You mean after sex and breakfast? At the rate we’re going, there won’t be much of the day left.”

  “Are you complaining?” She laid her hand on his hair-roughened upper thigh, feeling the taut muscles.

  “Lord, no. I’m even willing to give up breakfast if my wife keeps me busy all morning.”

  As if on cue, Lisette’s stomach growled. She curled into his side, putting her hand, palm flat, right over his heart. One of her legs trapped both of his, but there was no question as to who was in control.

  He shifted without warning and put her beneath him, kissing her lazily. His lips were firm and persuasive. “How hungry are you?” he asked, nuzzling her nose with his.

  Feelings rose in her chest, wild poignant emotions that choked her, making it hard to breathe. How was she supposed to be blasé about this? Most normal honeymooners would be planning their future. Instead, Jonathan was asking her to live only in the moment. It was far harder than she had thought it would be to pretend.

  She managed a smile. “Hungry for you,” she said lightly. “The other can wait.”

  Maybe Jonathan sensed her ambivalence, because after reaching for protection, he stroked her body so carefully and so gently she nearly cried for real this time. How was she going to protect herself? Being with him like this was too real, too devastatingly sweet. The thought of losing him was more than she could bear.

  He entered her slowly, so slowly she was forced to wrap her ankles behind his back and urge him deeper. The more she tried, the more he taunted them both.

  His voice was rough, unsteady. “Tell me how you like it, beautiful girl. Slow and infinite? Or hard and fast? I’ll give you whatever you ask.”

  Her good intentions cracked. “Give me a baby, Jonathan. Please.” The words slipped out of their own volition, born of a need to keep part of him with her forever. As soon as she spoke, she knew she had ruined the magic.

  Jonathan was close to the edge, but he rolled away, grim-faced, and disappeared into the bathroom.

  Tears wet her cheeks as she grabbed her things and sought the relative safety of the guest room. She couldn’t do this. It wasn’t fair.

  She buried her face in the pillows that didn’t carry his scent and cried until her chest hurt and her eyes were puffy. They had barely made it twenty-four hours, and already their marriage was on the rocks.

  He was asking the impossible. Be his stand-in at work. His bed partner at home. But don’t love. Don’t try to make any of this real.

  This relationship wasn’t working out as she had planned. She thought she could be satisfied with having a small bit of his life. That she could let him go when the time came.

  But now, she wasn’t at all sure she would be able to play her part. It was too damn hard
.

  At last she rose and showered. Afterward she put on one of her new bikinis and topped it with a modest cover-up. When hunger drove her to the kitchen, she found evidence that her husband had dined earlier. For her part, a banana and yogurt with granola were all that she could manage...that, and hot black coffee with plenty of sugar.

  Unlike yesterday evening, today there were no mutual apologies in the hours that followed. No dancing on the terrace.

  Lisette swam and sunbathed. Jonathan appeared eventually and claimed a lounger at the opposite end of the pool. He buried his face in a business magazine and occasionally slept.

  What he did not do was make any attempt to converse at all.

  She was hurt and angry, but she wouldn’t apologize for feeling the way she did. It wasn’t unreasonable of her to ask for a baby, or even to demand one. She was giving up her dreams for Jonathan. He had promised to consider the pregnancy. Had he not really meant it?

  Perhaps there was a better way to smooth over their mutual wounds. Something very basic and elemental like the need between a man and a woman.

  When the heat from the late-afternoon sun became intense, she removed her cover-up and applied more sunscreen. With her back to Jonathan, she twisted her hair into a messy knot and then bent over to pick up the brush she had intentionally dropped. Was he watching? She had never done anything so physically manipulative in her life, but desperate times and all that.

  Instead of using the diving board as she had earlier, she donned her sunglasses and entered the water via the shallow steps...which just happened to be on Jonathan’s end of the pool. After that, she did lazy laps, one after the other. On each return trip, she peeked at her companion. Hiding behind her darkened lenses allowed her to observe him without his being entirely sure that she was.

  He definitely wasn’t sleeping any longer.

  His board shorts meant she couldn’t tell if he was responding physically to her deliberate teasing, but at last she noticed that his hands clenched the arms of the lounger.

  Bingo... He couldn’t ignore her. That was what she was counting on. They might not have everything going for them that a normal couple would, but there was plenty of room for progress.

  Jonathan couldn’t stonewall her about this baby thing. He wanted her too badly, and she felt the same way about him.

  * * *

  Righteous indignation and lust were a dangerous combination. Jonathan was not happy with how things had unfolded today, but he refused to go crawling to his bride. She understood how he felt. He’d made his position very clear.

  He was a master negotiator, and he knew from experience that it was always better to make an adversary come to him, not vice versa.

  So he stayed where he was and told himself he was in the right.

  Which was cold comfort when Lisette stood up in the shallow end and sluiced water from her curvy body with both hands.

  By Caribbean standards, her navy bikini was probably puritanical, but damn it, her breasts were about to pop out of that top. And as for the bottom half, well, he couldn’t get his mind off the gorgeous erotic secrets that were his for the taking, barely covered. Wet and warm. Perfectly feminine.

  When she turned her back on him for the hundredth time, it seemed, and swam lazily toward the other end of the pool, he’d had enough. He lunged to his feet, strode down the steps and bulleted toward his prey as silently as a shark. He’d been on the varsity swim team in college, and he had lived at the shore his entire life.

  Lisette Stanhope Tarleton didn’t have a chance.

  A heartbeat later, he glided up beneath her and wrapped his arms around her legs, dragging her under. The water at this end was deep. The sudden move knocked her sunglasses loose. Her wide-eyed gaze met his under the water. Sunlight showered down on them through the ripples in the pool.

  He put his hand behind her neck and pulled her close for a hard kiss. Then he kicked hard and shot them both back to the surface. When they could breathe, he put his hands at her waist and lifted her as high as he could. “Grab the diving board, Lizzy.”

  She obeyed, but her face mirrored her confusion. “What are we doing? Some kind of kinky yoga?”

  “Call it whatever you want, Ms. Tarleton. But don’t let go.” Lazily, as if every nerve in his body wasn’t scraped raw by the lust pounding in his limbs, he reached out and dragged her bikini top below her breasts.

  It was a dicey game he played. Staying afloat required him to move his legs continually. He curled an arm around her waist. That was better. Now he could take one berry-colored nipple into his mouth without drowning.

  Her skin tasted of chlorine and coconut oil. He might as well have been tasting her sex, so visceral was his reaction. With his free hand, he tugged the bottom half of her suit to her ankles, freed it completely and tossed it up on the side of the pool. The bikini top followed. Gently he entered her with two fingers. Her inner muscles tightened.

  “Jonathan?” The single word was breathless.

  “I don’t know what to do with you,” he muttered, stunned enough by his own weakness to be completely honest.

  “We could try the shallow end.”

  It took him half a second to realize that while he was pondering the greater questions of life, Lisette had taken his comment at face value and was offering a practical solution.

  “Yes, we could,” he said. “You can let go now, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” He tugged her through the water to the center of the pool where the water was neck deep. Her arms were still linked around his shoulders, even though she no longer needed his support.

  Her eyelashes were spiky and wet. Her almost translucent green eyes stared deep into his soul. Or that’s how it seemed for a hushed moment.

  She rubbed a drop of water from his chin. “I like this pirate look,” she said softly. “Too bad he has to disappear when we go home.”

  “Being the boss does occasionally have its downside.” He kissed her nose and her bare, pink lips. “I want to take you right here. Just like this.” The notion consumed him.

  A shadow danced across her face. “No condoms, remember?”

  “I won’t come inside you.”

  She shook her head slowly. “I can’t take that chance. Not when you’re so adamant about not having a baby. I want you to make me pregnant, but it has to be a conscious choice on your part.”

  Damn it. Nothing like having a lover throw your own words back at you. “Put your legs around me,” he coaxed. Lisette was blissfully naked, but Jonathan was still wearing his swim trunks. Nothing could happen.

  The water made her buoyant. She granted his request easily. Now her breasts were snuggled into his chest and those long, gorgeous legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

  She nibbled his earlobe. “We have a wonderful, comfy bed inside. I bet we could get there if we tried.”

  His body quaked. He rubbed his hardened sex against her center, tormenting them both. Lisette buried her face in his shoulder and moaned.

  “I want you,” he said, the words hoarse and raspy. For a mad moment, he almost caved. Making Lisette pregnant was a titillating idea, one that messed with his head. He could do it. Right now. Give her a baby. His child.

  But his will was stronger than his desire. Because he cared about her. Being a single parent was hard and lonely. When he was gone, he wanted Lisette to be free. Unencumbered.

  He pulled her arms from around his neck and made her stand. “Inside,” he said. “Now. Please, Lizzy. Hurry.”

  Her eyebrows went up. I can’t get out yet. I’m naked. Grab my suit.”

  “There’s no one here but us. C’mon, Miss Priss. I’ll guard your modesty. If anybody shows up unexpectedly, I’ll throw myself on top of you so they can’t see a thing.”

  She took his hand and followed him out of the pool, laughing. “You’d do that for me?”

  He
turned on the outdoor shower. “Anytime, day or night. All you have to do is ask.”

  They took turns rinsing off and then wrapped up in huge fluffy towels from a heated bin. Jonathan was nearing the edge of his self-control. It had been hours since he had made love to his brand-new wife, and he intended to make up for lost time.

  Thirteen

  Several hours after they left the pool, Lisette found herself standing with her sexy husband in a crowd of people at Shirley Heights, a restored military lookout and gun battery. This particular spot—just above their honeymoon villa—afforded incredible sunset views of English and Falmouth harbors. Every Sunday night the locals staged a huge barbecue, serenaded by a collection of home-grown musical talent.

  Since it was the maid’s day off, Jonathan had suggested this as a casual dinner plan. He held her close to his side as they made their way through the press of people. The tantalizing smells wafting from open grills and the pulsing rhythms of steel drums created a definite party atmosphere.

  When they had eaten, they staked out a spot at the edge of the hilltop to witness the famed sunset. Lisette felt safe in Jonathan’s embrace. She leaned against him, hoping to see the elusive green flash as the sun slid below the horizon. From this vantage point, it was fairly common, or so they had been told.

  As they stood amid the throng of affable tourists, she felt the strangest combination of relaxation and arousal. Being here with Jonathan was the first truly carefree thing she had done for herself in years.

  He smelled wonderful, a mix of warm male skin and elusive aftershave...something expensive, no doubt.

  When someone bumped into them from behind, Lisette stumbled forward.

  Jonathan steadied her. “You okay?”