Desire (#2) (4 page)

My hips jerked and bucked as the tightness built inside me.

“Harder,” I breathed, and he pounded into me. His muscular thighs hit the backs of my legs as he drove himself into me.

“You look so hot in those shoes,” he said, gripping my hips and forcing my body back onto him.

His deep, sexy voice sent me crazy as he thrust into me, my breasts swaying as he claimed me.

I tightened my grip on the sheets and cried out as the sensations peaked inside me. I couldn’t hold back anymore and my orgasm ripped through me, my internal muscles clenching around him.

I heard Benjamin groan as he came, jerking his hips into me for the last time.

Afterwards, I lay with my head on his shoulder, absently stroking his chest. His arm was wrapped around me, draped over my back, his hand resting on my hip. His breathing grew deep and more regular. I knew he was falling asleep, so I took the chance to study him. It seemed odd to call a man beautiful, but that was how he looked lying there. Dark shadow on his jaw line. Those dark lashes. His smooth skin. Everything about him was perfect.

No matter what happened in the future I knew I was going to get hurt. It might hurt less in the long run if I ended things early, but I knew I didn’t have the willpower to do that.

He might never grow to love me, but he was fond of me, perhaps that would be enough. Until he found someone new.

He murmured in his sleep and reached out his other arm, pulling me close. I snuggled into him, smelling his warm skin. I kissed his cheek, but he didn’t stir.

The phone rang making me jolt. Benjamin woke and rubbed his bleary eyes. He gave me a sleepy grin as he reached for the telephone beside the bed.

I lay on my bed, staring up at the moulded pattern on the ceiling as he spoke on the phone.

After he hung up, I turned to him and asked, “Work?”

He shook his head. “Lady Vastor. She’s keen to get started on the portrait, but Lord Vastor wants to return to the country. They have an estate in Hampshire. I told her you would be happy to do the portrait there.”

I sat up. “In Hampshire?”

“Yes,” Benjamin said and then frowned. “Is that a problem?”

I stared down at him, furious. “I would have preferred you to ask me first, rather than agreeing with Lady Vastor. I’m not a chess piece you can push around.”

I wrapped my arms around my body.

He rubbed a hand over his face. “Don’t you want to do the portrait?”

“That’s not the point,” I snapped.

He pulled himself into a sitting position, the sheet slipping down his torso, revealing that sexy chest. I averted my eyes and gritted my teeth.

“I don’t understand what the problem is, Kate. If you don’t want the job, we’ll cancel, you can stay here.”

I did want the job. I couldn’t afford to lose it, but I was still mad at him. I knew deep down it wasn’t about this. I wasn’t angry at him. I was angry at myself for getting in too deep.

I took a breath. “I do want the job.”

“Right. Okay then. But you don’t want to go to Hampshire?”

“I wanted to see the sights. I haven’t had a chance to explore London yet …” I knew I sounded like a spoiled kid. I was here for work, not for pleasure.

He smiled and pulled me into a hug, and as his dark eyes met with mine, I forgot my anger.

“You still have tomorrow. You can see some of the sights during the day, and I’ll arrange a car to take you to the Vastors’ house tomorrow evening.”

“Me? Aren’t you coming?”

He frowned. “Of course not. I have work to do here.”

After Benjamin fell asleep, I stared up at the ceiling in the darkness, wondering how I could protect my heart from getting trampled on. For a while, I watched him sleep.

God, help me. I’d already fallen for him. Hard.

I WOKE WITH A heavy head and a heavy heart the next morning to see Benjamin emerge from the bathroom. He was dressed, but his hair was still wet from the shower.

“I’m sorry,” he said and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching over to stroke my hair. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I have a breakfast meeting.”

“What time is it?” I asked in a croaky voice.

“Six-thirty.”

I groaned and buried my head in the pillow.

He chuckled. “All right. I’ll let you get back to sleep. I’ll meet you later.”

I grunted a response and closed my eyes.

I didn’t wake again until almost ten.

Crap. I hadn’t wanted to waste any of today. This might be my only chance to see London. I tore out of bed and showered and dressed in fifteen minutes.

I grabbed my jacket and started to head out when I noticed a note had been pushed under the door.

Intrigued, I bent over to pick up the pale blue note. The writing was loopy and elaborate. It was from Colin, telling me we had tickets to a Toulouse Lautrec exhibition at the Tate. Fantastic! I grabbed the phone, wondering why Colin hadn’t rung me instead of leaving a note.

“Colin? It’s Kate. I’m sorry. I only just got your note.”

“Ah, no problem. When would you like to go?”

“I’m ready now. I could meet you downstairs?”

After I hung up, I noticed the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign was still illuminated. I flushed. No wonder Colin had left a note.

I quickly straightened the room a little. I knew they had room service, but I didn’t want to leave the luxurious suite looking like a mess. Then I headed out, taking the elevator down to the lobby.

I looked around for Colin but couldn’t spot him, so I sat down in one of the luxurious armchairs. A waitress soon appeared by my side and asked if she could get me anything. I ordered a coffee, I really needed the caffeine kick, and I hoped I could finish it before Colin turned up.

As I leaned back, thinking of the gallery, waiting for my coffee, I noticed a man on the opposite side of the room, reading a paper.

I’m not sure what it was – maybe because he held the newspaper unnaturally high so it covered his face – but he made my skin crawl. He looked like one of those men in the movies who was tracking someone. A cold shiver of dread passed through me. But it couldn’t be me he was watching. Surely they wouldn’t have tracked me all the way to Great Britain?

At that moment, the waitress arrived with my coffee. I took it with trembling hands, the cup, rattling against the saucer. She left the check for me to sign, and I sipped my coffee with my eyes fixed on the newspaper man.

He looked up, perhaps sensing my eyes on him. He met my gaze for a fraction of a second. It may have been my imagination, but I thought I saw something sinister in his face. I looked around at the other people in the lobby, but they were all going about their usual business. No one seemed to notice him.

“Ah ha, there you are,” Colin's loud voice sounded behind me, and I jumped, sloshing coffee from my cup into the saucer.

“Oh, sorry about that. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s nothing,” I said. “I’m just being my usual clumsy self.” I tried to mop up the mess with a napkin and signed the check.

I thought about asking Colin if he noticed anything odd about the newspaper man, but when I looked again, the man had disappeared.

As we walked to the exit, I tried to convince myself I’d been imagining things. Why on earth would they follow me all the way here?

I looked out at the busy London thoroughfare and waited for the concierge to try and conjure us up a black cab. I craned my neck, looking around for the man with the newspaper. I’d only seen his face for a moment, but I was sure I’d recognise him. How could he vanish like that in a busy hotel? It didn’t make sense.

Even after we climbed into the black cab, I kept my eyes on the entrance. For a moment, I thought I spotted him. Then, a lady wearing a large, elaborate hat, moved through the revolving doors, blocking my view. I turned and looked through the rear window as the cab pulled away.

“Are you all right, Kate?” Colin asked.

I turned back around to face him and leaned back into the seat. “Fine. I just thought I saw someone …” I shook my head. “It’s nothing.”

As the black cab cruised along the bus lane, I looked out at the historic buildings lining Brook Street.

It didn’t take us long to reach the Tate. As Colin leaned forward to pay the driver, I felt a wave of affection for him. It really was lovely of him to organise this for me. I’m quite sure he had visited London numerous times in the past, so he must have arranged this trip to the Tate solely for my benefit.

“Thank you, Colin,” I said as I climbed out of the cab.

He closed the cab door behind us and offered me his arm.

“For arranging this.” I nodded at the elegant entrance to the Tate Britain. “It really is very kind of you.”

“Oh, Kate,” he said, patting my hand. “This is much more fun than work.” He winked at me as we walked up the stone steps and passed a group of tourists munching their sandwiches.

“Besides,” he said. “This was Benjamin’s idea.”

“It was?” I looked at Colin surprised. “I didn’t think he was into all this touristy stuff.”

“I think he is making an exception for you.”

A warm glow spread through my body. Maybe Benjamin did care about me. Perhaps it was more than just sex?

“Yes. He’s going to try and meet us here. We’re extremely privileged, you know? I’ve never known him to take time off work for an excursion before.”

I grinned like an idiot, hope creeping into my heart.

At the reception area, we collected tickets for the current exhibition. Entrance was free to the main part of the museum, but Colin inserted a couple of notes into the large plastic collection container.

“Now where shall we start?” he asked as we stood by the coloured floor plan.

“How about the Renaissance?” I suggested eagerly.

We made our way through hallways with high ceilings, passing groups of tourists with black earphones over their ears carrying audio equipment. I preferred to look at the paintings and look at the captions rather than listen to an audio guide.

We had made our way around ten of the paintings when I heard footsteps behind me. I turned to see Benjamin striding towards us. Tall, dark and handsome and thoroughly intoxicating.

His dark bad-boy looks started a fluttering in my belly. My eyes raked over his broad shoulders, sharp dark, grey suit and expensive leather shoes before they travelled back up to his gorgeous face.

I realised I was holding my breath.

He leaned over to kiss me, and I breathed in his delicious clean scent.

He turned to say something to Colin when his cell phone rang. He grimaced, pulling it out of his jacket pocket, and turned away from us to take the call.

Colin looked down at me, and obviously noticing my disappointment, said, “That’s what happens when you run a billion-dollar concern. Everyone wants a piece of you all the time.”

I wondered if Colin was warning me off. Was this his subtle way of telling me life with Benjamin wasn’t going to be all hearts and roses?

When Benjamin finished the call, he walked back over to us, his smile twisted a little. “I’m sorry, but I have to go and see to this.”

I shrugged. “Sure, I understand.”

He stared down at me, his dark brown eyes reading my face. “Enjoy the exhibition. And if there is anything else you want to do or see, then ask Colin. I’ll pay for it. Whatever you want.”

I slanted a glance at Colin and caught him rolling his eyes.

“You don’t have to pay for anything, and Colin doesn’t have to keep me amused, honestly, I’m perfectly fine.”

He leaned forward to kiss me, his lips brushing my cheek. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again.

Colin made a flapping motion with his hands. “Go on. We’ll be fine.”

I watched Benjamin as he walked away and noticed he caught the eye of two young women standing beside a bronze sculpture.

I turned and faced Colin. “I mean it. I don’t want you to feel you’re stuck with me.”

“Kate, believe me. A day sightseeing with you is a treat.” He smiled, dimples lighting up his face.

We continued our way around the room, stopping at every painting.

When we stopped by ‘The Lady of Shalott’ by John William Waterhouse, my breath caught in my throat. It had always been one of my favourite paintings, but seeing a reproduction or a printed image on a book or postcard was nothing like standing in front of the real thing.

The two-metre-wide painting drew me in. It was an oil on canvas, painted in 1888, but none of those details seemed important. Usually when I looked at art work, I focused on the details, the artistry and skill in the brush-strokes. I tried to study the techniques the artist used, but with this painting I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the woman’s face. It was so incredibly sad and melancholy.

Tragedy shone in her eyes, and her anguish seemed to echo the pain of unrequited love in my chest. I knew how that felt.

Waterhouse had painted the scene from Tennyson’s famous poem, which describes the unrequited love this woman had for the English knight, Sir Lancelot. The woman sat in a small wooden boat, preparing to sail away and meet her certain death. In front of her were three candles. I looked down at the caption beside the paining and read that the extinguished candles were a symbol that time was running out for her.

I looked back at the woman’s hopeless face and felt my lower lip tremble. I tried desperately to blink back tears, as beside me, Colin quoted,

“And at the closing of the day

She loosed the chain, and down she lay;

The broad stream bore her far away,

The Lady of Shalott.”

His voice was smooth and melodious, but a shiver ran down my spine.

“Are you all right, Kate?” he asked as I wiped away a tear that stole its way down my cheek.

I nodded, and tried to smile, not trusting my voice.

He looped his arm through mine. “Let’s go and get a cup of coffee and maybe even a slice of cake. That always helps.”

Colin left me at a table by the window in the little museum cafe. I took a paper napkin and wiped under my eyes, glad to see that my waterproof mascara had coped with the challenge.

I watched Colin stare at the coffee machine for a moment or two, looking completely baffled. I smiled. I guessed Colin Easton didn’t frequent self-service cafes very often. I was just about to go over and help him when one of the staff behind the counter offered her assistance.