An Innocent Affair (12 page)

‘Does it make you feel safe, keeping this distance from your lovers—and I'm not talking miles here? Is it a classic case of safety in numbers?'

‘I don't know what you're talking about.' The intensity of the raw emotions emanating from him made her head spin.

‘Have you ever paused to think you might find enough with one man?'

It was the very last thing she'd expected to hear him say.
‘You?'

His expression grew grimmer as he misinterpreted her incredulity. ‘I don't like sharing the woman in my bed with other men.'

No tender concern; he was just protecting what he saw as his territory. Her fledgling hopes withered and died. ‘I'm not your property, Alex Matheson. One night, that's all we had, or will ever have,' she hissed. ‘Anyway, you've got some nerve. What about Rebecca?'

‘Rebecca's a friend; she's got nothing to do with this.'

‘Well, Lloyd is
my
friend.'

‘Do you categorise all your ex-lovers as friends, Hope? You must have a lot of “friends.”'

‘Lloyd is not my ex-lover. He's—'

‘Well, for his sake he'd better get transferred to that list in a hurry,' he cut in savagely. ‘You don't need him while you've got me.'

‘The question is, do I
want
you? I'm sure lots of girls go a bundle on all this machismo, but personally I find this overdose of virility a mite pathetic.' She could see his face through a fog of anger, only it wasn't just anger that clouded her senses; there was a strong element of anticipation and excitement.

‘Is that a fact?'

‘It is.'

‘Then why are you trembling?'

‘I…I'm cold,' she whispered huskily.

‘If you run out on me, who will keep you warm?'

‘I'll buy a hot water bottle,' she suggested weakly. ‘God, Alex, this is stupid. Let me go. I know you're not going to force me.'

‘You credit me with that much decency? I'm amazed,' he drawled sarcastically. She couldn't take her eyes from the nerve that beat beside his mouth. His mouth—oh, hell! she moaned silently.

‘We're not suited. You don't even like me.'

A impatient twist of his head brushed aside her objections. ‘We are suited in bed. We don't even need a bed,' he corrected huskily. ‘Don't try cold turkey, Hope, it's hell.'

‘What option do we have, Alex?'

He placed his hands on either side of her face and drew her lips towards him. Like a man deprived too long of water, he drank in her sweetness.

‘God, I've thought about that every second of every day,' he breathed, lifting his head. ‘Have you?'

‘Oh, yes!' With a small, broken cry she wound her arms about his neck and covered his mouth with her soft, eager lips. ‘This is mad.' Mad but marvellous. His coiled strength, the musky male scent of his warm body, the strength of his arousal as she ground her hips against his—how could she deprive herself of these mind-blowing pleasures?

A soft, greedy growl reverberated in his throat as he began to pull at her clothes with impatient hands. She squirmed and wriggled to aid him.

‘You're so beautiful, it hurts.' A kiss tinged with the desperation that pervaded them both interspersed his words. His harsh, uneven breathing drowned out her own shallow gasps. ‘Do you know what it does to me to look at you?'

‘I want…' She almost sobbed the words as her fingers worked diligently at the buckle on his jeans. The strength vanished from her legs at the same moment her skirt slithered to the floor. ‘I can't do it!' she wailed in frustration as they sank to their knees. Her desire wasn't gentle or controlled; it was clumsy and eagerly rough. It flowed like a molten river through her veins.

Her arms slid beneath his open shirt. His damp skin was satiny hard and her fingers didn't meet across his magnificent back. She pressed her face to him and placed open-mouthed kisses against his heaving chest. Her teeth tugged against the taut, resistant flesh stretched over his ribcage.

She didn't notice when he reached to drag his coat across the floor to cushion her impact against it. It was a relief to find herself flat on her back. She caught the flapping ends of his shirt-front and tugged him downwards. Together they rolled onto their sides.

Alex pushed aside the lace covering one breast. His eyes were half closed as they ran over the warm, quiv
ering flesh. ‘Is it the cold doing that?' he asked, watching the pink nipples swell and quiver. ‘Or me?'

‘You know.' Her fingers curled into the taut contours of his buttocks as his mouth honed in on the tingling area. She looped her thigh over his hips and felt him pulse against the cradle of her pelvis. She yelped as the buckle of his belt pinched her skin.

‘What is it?' The skin was drawn tight across his strong bones; his mouth looked fuller and his eyes—oh, God—his eyes made her bones melt.

‘Just the belt.'

He ran his fingers down her thigh and moved her knee a little lower. ‘Just for a minute,' he promised. One-handed, he slipped the catch.

‘No, let me,' she said, covering his hand with her own as he reached for the zipper. She raised herself on her knees to straddle his body, and, tongue caught between her teeth, set about completing the task he'd begun. Alex was watching her from slitted eyes. His chest heaved as if he couldn't draw enough air into his lungs. She could feel the fine tremors that shook his body. She shot him constant sultry glances as she completed her task.

She was so totally absorbed that the sound of her own name being called didn't penetrate the sensual fog that had enveloped them immediately.

‘Hope, where are you? I've brought lunch, but I didn't bring enough for two.' The second step always had creaked. Second step—Anna! Hope glanced down at her half-naked body. Her horrified gaze didn't extend as far as Alex's face—she wasn't that brave.

‘Oh, God!' Grabbing up her clothes, she ran into the nearest room, which happened to be the bathroom. In a feverish haste she pulled on the garments.

 

‘It's the least I can do, Alex, considering you stepped into the breach like a hero. Hope would have been dis
traught if we hadn't fixed things up before they were back. For some reason she holds herself personally responsible, but the plumber said that the joint leading into the tank had been leaking for ages. It was already weak. Oh, there you are, Hope. Is the plumbing in good working order now? I was just saying to Alex,' Anna rattled on cheerfully, ‘how handy it is to know a man who's good with his hands. What's wrong? What have I said?'

An inarticulate squeak escaped Hope's pale lips. ‘Just leave it, Anna.'

Anna unhooked the bulging bag from around her neck. ‘Did I come at a bad time? Sorry, I just thought Alex might be hungry, but you obviously had the situation in hand. I'm off—babies are in the car. Must pick up Sam and Nathan from nursery school.'

‘No, I'm going myself.' Hope fled.

‘Would you excuse me, Anna?'

‘Don't mind me…' she began, but she was talking to empty air.

Hope could hear his feet pounding on the stairs, and she gave up all pretence of normality and ran. She'd reached the car before he caught her up.

‘Let me go!' She spun around, panting.

Alex caught her by the elbows. ‘Calm down,' he commanded firmly. ‘What do you think you're doing?'

‘I've never been more humiliated in my life.'

‘Humiliated that someone knows we were making love?'

She winced at his uncompromising assessment of the situation. ‘Do you think she guessed?'

‘Well, if she didn't, your little act up there cleared up any doubts. I take it you're ashamed?' His expression was cold and forbidding.

‘Who wouldn't be?' she asked shrilly. ‘Rolling around on the floor like…like…'

‘Animals?'

‘If you like,' she said with a touch of defiance. Their primal haste had certainly been something outside her own experience, but then Alex's rampant sensuality was outside her experience too.

‘Sorry if I'm not a smooth and civilised lover, Hope, but the fact is you like me the way I am. Crude, coarse and unrefined.'

‘You aren't.' She couldn't stop the instinctive protest escaping her lips.

One hand cupped her chin and forced her lowered gaze upwards. ‘I'm not what?' His tone demanded an answer. His expression made it clear he was ready to wring the truth from her.

‘Any of those things.'

‘What am I?' She could feel the tension in him as he waited for her reply.

She didn't need any further prompting. In one way it was a relief to say what she felt. ‘Beautiful.' Her tongue curled lovingly around the word. I've started so I might as well finish, she thought recklessly. ‘Addictive…' The word emerged, achingly erotic, from her raw throat. ‘You've gone quiet all of a sudden.' A hint of belligerence crept into her voice as she looked him straight in the eyes.

His eyes searched her face almost suspiciously. ‘You're serious.' He drew in breath hungrily, as though he'd forgotten to breathe.

‘Do I look like I'm laughing?' I bare my soul, she thought indignantly, and what do I get? The third degree! ‘I'm not exactly enjoying feeling like this.'

‘You should be enjoying it. Perhaps we should do something about that.' ‘Smug' would have been too mild a word to describe the male satisfaction that was oozing from him.

She swayed slightly as his arms moved to cage her body. Strong arms that made her feel weak and feminine. Dear God, she wondered, where in her subconscious had all these antediluvian fantasies been hiding? One whiff of a pheromone and any thoughts of political correctness went sailing out of the window.

She pressed her lips to the corner of his firm mouth. It would have been a crime to let an opportunity like this slip away. ‘What did you have in mind?' She kissed the neglected side of his mouth lingeringly and felt his chest swell.

‘How do you feel about orgies?'

‘In general I'm fairly open-minded. Are we talking large, communal occasions, here?'

‘Smaller, more intimate occasions.' His tongue traced the outline of her open tremulous lips with steady precision. ‘One on one, if you get my drift.' His smile was sinfully sensual as her fingers moved to his thick hair. It felt like rich, heavy silk under her fingertips.

‘I really have got to go to London, Alex.' If he'd asked her to stay she'd probably have been unprofessional enough to do just that. Only his silence didn't put her resolve to the test. ‘If I get this part, things are going to get quite hectic.'

‘Where are you staying?'

‘With a friend. Female,' she added with a spurt of annoyance. ‘So there's no need to look like that.'

‘I've got an apartment that you could use.'

Apartment. It smacked too much of being a kept woman, visited by her lover when it suited him. ‘I don't think so.' She didn't like the image it conjured up in her mind. She was accepting a lot less than she wanted as it was, and she didn't know for how long she could go on making concessions. She had to draw the line somewhere.

‘As you like. I can make it up there at the weekend. It's a date, then.'

Hope nodded. A date had a nice old-fashioned ring to it. What they were arranging was nothing of the sort—more a wild, hedonistic spree of sensual delight. He didn't want or need her love, but for the moment he did want and need her body. Later, she might regret having settled for second best, but at least she'd have something to remember.

She emerged from his savage embrace with the air of a person accustomed to such mind-shattering experiences. ‘I'll ring you.'

‘That would be advisable.' There was nothing subtle about the warning in his silky words.

 

‘You're late,' Miranda snapped.

Hope stood there, her key still in the lock of her friend's penthouse. ‘Tell me about it,' she said wearily. She was bone-tired and close to forming the conclusion that she'd made the worst decision of her life accepting this part. ‘You know, they only gave it to me because my name would boost the ticket sales. I have novelty value,' she said bitterly. ‘Half the people who come and watch will be hoping I fall flat on my face.'

The self-pity passed right over her friend's head. ‘Yeah, yeah. Never mind about that,' she said impatiently.

Miranda was the closest friend she'd made on the modelling circuit. Hope could see that she was agog. She had fair skin that went with a cloud of red hair. Her complexion always reflected her emotions, and right now she was pink with excitement.

‘What's happened?'

‘He's been waiting three hours for you.' It was only at times like this that her normally accentless English
betrayed her Norwegian origins. ‘Dark hair, big—very big.' She licked her lips reflectively. ‘The sort of body that looks better without clothes on.' She gave a crow of delight as Hope's tell-tale blush confirmed her theory. ‘I knew I was right. Clothes can't hide a body like that. You know, I'm tired of skinny, pretty boys. Tell me, do you think he'd pose for my life class?' she enquired in all seriousness. ‘He could really get my artistic juices flowing.'

‘If you ask him I'll kill you!' Art was Miranda's latest craze; last month it had been hang-gliding.

‘Well, if you feel like that I won't,' she responded with obvious regret. She half closed her eyes and a dreamy look came over her face. ‘I can just imagine him…'

‘Don't!' Hope said tartly. She thought it was about time she drew this speculation to a close.

Her friend's hand on her arm stilled her impetuous entry into the open-plan living area. ‘He's angry.'

‘What?'

‘Under the charm.' She wrapped her arms around her slim body and sighed deeply. ‘It's so refreshing to meet a really intelligent man.'