His Rules: Ludlow Nights - Book1 (A Ludlow Nights Romance) (15 page)

Anastacia huffed out a breath and wondered why the hell she'd started this ludicrous conversation in the first place.

"I do have feelings for Olivier. And I don't want to have feelings for Olivier. I'm happy as I am. We have a big job to do. Feelings will make doing that job really hard. But it's the grinding need deep in my belly that's driving me nuts. I can't stand it. I hate it and I hate him for causing it."

Bronte gave her a commiserating pat on the knee.

"But do you like him?"

Anastacia's head whipped up to look at her.

"What's not to like. Yeah, I like him. He seems like a nice guy."

"Do you trust him?"

Did she?

Anastacia shook her head as she realized they'd finally come to the crux of the matter.

"Nope. He's a footballer." At Bronte's narrowed-eyed look, she shrugged and added, "I don't know him the way you guys do."

"I know you don't. So if you don't trust my judgement, why not trust Nico's? Oli is not a dog."

"I do trust your judgement, Bronte. It's my own judgement that worries me."

"Ahh. I see it now. You're thinking about Jake."

The past should stay in the past, that was how Anastacia rolled. But now she realized the emotional fall-out of her time with a man whose love had turned into an obsession, into hate, was impacting her decision making process when it came to affairs of the heart in the present. She stared unseeing at the Dower House.

"I just don't want to go through something like that again. I'm not sure I could cope with it."

"Perhaps you need to talk to someone about your feelings."

She turned to find Bronte watching her carefully, her vivid emerald eyes filled with compassion.

"You mean a shrink?"

Bronte shrugged. "If what happened with Jake is having a bearing upon your feelings eighteen months after the event, perhaps it's still not resolved in your mind. You need to understand that you are not responsible for another person's behaviour, therefore you shouldn't feel guilty about walking away from a relationship that had become unhealthy."

Logically, Anastacia knew that Bronte was right.

But emotions were tricky things and it was her emotions that were ruling Anastacia at the moment.

Again, she stared unseeing into the garden as a conversation from the past that still made her blood run cold slid into her mind.

"Jake's mother was so devastated and so angry with me. She told me I'd led him on, made him believe I wanted what he wanted. She'd never seen him so happy. He wanted a family, a home and living the dream with a happy-ever-after. He believed he'd met
the one
. God, I hate that phrase. When I tried to cool the relationship he just held on tighter." Now she turned and her eyes stayed on Bronte's. "By going with the flow and not following my gut instinct, I hurt a good man. Olivier's a good man, too. I don't want to hurt him. For one thing you and Nico would never forgive me."

"You're making yourself sound like some sort of modern day Mata Hari. A seducer of weak-minded men. Olivier is not Jake. Olivier does not have a weak mind. He is incredibly self-aware and I'm sure you've made your feelings clear and he knows the score. Don't let fear rule your heart or your head."

"What if it goes wrong?"

"What if it doesn't?" Bronte shot right back.

Now there was a thought to ponder.

"So you think I should give him a chance?"

"Absolutely." Then Bronte cocked her head to listen, and right on cue Nico and Olivier strolled into the garden deep in conversation about football. She gave Anastacia a gentle elbow in the ribs. "Now don't you think they look like a wonderful example of handsomeness?"

The guys wore jeans that fitted them in all the right places and tight T-shirts. They were tall, dark and tanned. And both turned to grin at the women.

Anastacia couldn't have agreed more.

She suppressed a sigh.

"So gorgeous they hurt the eye."

Olivier gave her that look that made her belly quiver.

Her response was a narrow-eyed stare.

An hour later Nico and Bronte waved their guests off.

Nico wrapped his arms around his wife's slim waist, nuzzled her hair.

"They make a lovely couple," Bronte said, and then hummed with pleasure as he pressed a hot kiss on her neck.

"
Si
, I think they will work well together. They are both very attracted. Oli asked me if I knew who had hurt Ana in the past."

Bronte turned in his arms to stare up into his wonderful face.

"You didn't tell him about Jake?"

Black brows lifted as dark eyes held hers.

"Do I look like a fool to you?"

She patted his cheek.

"No. It's up to Ana to tell him her secrets."

"
Si
. But I think it is time Ana dealt with the past. She has no reason to feel guilty. But that guilt is holding her back."

Bronte knew that was nothing less than the truth.

Then the germ of an idea, a suspicion, took hold in her mind.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, shifted her pelvis into his, felt a certain hard muscle pressing into her belly twitch.

"You planned this whole thing. Olivier's investment in the hotels. Ana's part in it. You planned it all, didn't you?"

He kissed her, hard.

How was it possible he still made her head reel after four years and three children together?

Now Nico raised his head, rubbed his nose against hers.

"All I did was put two people together to see what might happen. The rest is up to them."

He lifted her in his arms and she had to laugh.

Winding her arms around his neck, she pressed hot kisses along his strong jaw.

And all the while he was taking the stairs to their bedroom.

"You should start a dating agency. Nico's Marriage Bureau."

He had to laugh as he shouldered open their bedroom door.

Dumped her on the bed and ruthlessly started to strip her.

"Funny girl. I have my hands more than full enough with you." He watched her just lie there, naked. Then he tugged his T-shirt over his head, tossed it, and started on his jeans. When he was in the same state, his hand pumped his erection. "Roll over on your knees, open up, and let me in."

She did as she was told.

Then tossed back her hair to watch him over her shoulder.

He saw plenty of love among the lust in those emerald eyes.

Bronte wiggled her tight little bottom.

"I want it hard and I want it fast."

His teeth flashed as he positioned himself, his gently probing fingers making sure she was slippery for him.

"Hmm, wet and hot and ready."

He gripped her narrow hips and entered her in one smooth stroke.

She wanted hard and fast?

He gave it to her hard and fast.

Their gasps echoed through their bedroom as they came together.

A couple madly in love and a couple who simply never got enough of each other.

Later as they lay together in a hot bath, Nico rubbed his cheek against Bronte's blonde hair and gathered her closer as she lay between his legs.

"Has Christopher Rucker decided how he's going to approach Ana?" she whispered.

The breath of Nico's heavy sigh fluttered over her cheek.

"He's been discussing the best way forward with his wife. And he's agreed to talk to me first."

"Maybe he could use a lawyer?"

"Maybe, although he feels it might be too impersonal. The detective agency has found out a huge amount of information on Ana. He is distraught with everything she has gone through. And I am worried about how Ana is going to react."

"It's going to be a huge shock. I know how I felt when I found my real father. This is the reverse situation for Christopher. It's the unknown that's so hard, the fear of rejection. I had a loving family. Ana's never had that. Whatever happens, she needs to know that we are here for her, Nico."

"
Si
, when the time comes I will make sure she knows we are here for her. I love you,
cara mia
."

"I love you, too. So much, Nico. So much."

As they exited the elevator on the floor to her apartment, Olivier wasn't going to give Anastacia the chance to blow him off. She'd been quiet on the trip back to town. Too quiet. And he could read the expressions crossing her beautiful face like a book. She was debating, wondering about him, wondering about herself and if sleeping with him would be the right thing to do. So when she took the door key from her bag, he caught it, unlocked the door and pushed her through.

The minute the door was shut behind them, he grabbed her.

Her breathy gasp of shock drove him crazy as he whipped her top over her head, the wisp of silk that was her bra unclipped and tossed aside.

Christ, he was good at this.

Then his hands, his mouth, were on her.

Any doubts in Anastacia's mind simply drained away.

Any choice was gone.

All she wanted was for him to take her.

In a furious blaze of passion, of a mutual hunger neither could deny, they came together.

His T-shirt, her jeans, his jeans, her panties, his Calvin's were tossed on the floor.

Hardly in the door, they fell to the oak floor.

Olivier made sure his body broke her fall.

"Damned floor," he groaned as he dinged his elbow.

Laughing, Anastacia rubbed her naked body over his, then moaned when he took her tight nipple in his mouth.

She was in a hurry, her hand slid between them to find him hard and hot, to give him the ultimate pleasure.

Then his hands took, without warning, as his fingers plunged into her hot, wet, heat.

Omigod.

She'd never felt anything like it. His mouth, hot, searing, clung to hers. Her heart had never, ever, beat so fast. Her body had never throbbed, ached, hurt so desperately good. But she wanted more. She wanted everything that Olivier had to give. With his fingers stroking, winding her higher, higher, Anastacia pressed fast, hungry kisses over his brow, his cheeks, his neck. Everywhere.

All that could be heard was the ragged sound of their breathing.

The heady scent of their blended arousal, the clean, salty sweat on his skin made her moan. The heat between their bodies created the most amazing friction.

Olivier's mind was filled with her. She surrounded him. Her touch. Her taste. Her smell. She was demanding. Even savage in ways he could never have fantasized in his wildest dreams. She seemed determined to explore every part of his body, every hard muscle trembled when she touched him, pressed her mouth... there. Oh, yes, right there. He wasn't going to last. Half crazy for her, his hand reached down to grab her by the hair, to bring her mouth to his mouth.

Anastacia had never know that a man could bring so much pleasure to a woman. Racked with a dark delight, she arched beneath him. Legs spread, pelvis tilted, she relinquished her mind, her body. And moaned when he took his sweet time to taste his way down, down, down towards her pulsing, slick heat. And when his tongue found her, she screamed his name.

His mouth found her wet and willing and wanton. His tongue, his teeth, kept her helplessly pinned down in an orgasm that went on and on and on.

Never, never had she known what it meant to be so utterly weakened by a man. He could have asked her to do anything, taken anything and she would not have denied him. But Olivier never asked, never took. Olivier gave and gave and gave her the ultimate pleasure.

Anastacia's back arched, her neck arched, as she rose to soar over the edge again and again. Until she was delirious, delighted, demanding more, please more.

"Let go, Ana. Let go. I will catch you."

And then he was within her, stretching her, taking her without mercy, even higher. Oh God, how was this possible? Her scream of release was swallowed by his mouth, his groan as he bowed back going utterly still as he poured himself into her.

She was on her back on the hard wooden floor, gasping for breath, with Olivier sprawled on top of her.

Eventually, Anastacia found sanity, slowly drifting back to the world. The walls of her apartment were a pale mushroom color, the moonlight flickered through the slats of white shutters at the windows. She smelled the mix of their bodies. A little bit of her. A little bit of him. His hair tickled her cheek. Like hers, his heart was beating, too fast, against her breast.

Everything had happened too fast. Anastacia knew she'd never gone through anything like this. Or, she corrected herself, she'd never allowed it. Never let anyone get too close. Never let go. Weird things, she realized, happened to a woman who capitulated, opened her heart, her body, to a man she didn't really know. She gave other things away she hadn't meant to. Things like a little tenderness, a little affection, even, a little love. When she caught herself stroking Olivier's tight backside, she let her hand drop to the floor. It was a bad idea to think of allowing love into the mix, even for a moment. Because not only did love give, love took. And it didn't always give and take equally. Someone always got hurt, sometimes badly hurt. Oliver Conti wasn't a safe bet for a woman to love, not prudently, not easily, and certainly not for the long term.

She understood that.

Plus, Olivier himself had admitted he only followed his rules.

So now that Anastacia decided she would quite happily be his lover, after all she'd be crazy to deny herself more of
this
? But she would not love him. She would be unwise to risk her heart. So why did she feel that heart ache, just a little?
Idiot
, she told herself, her heart was perfectly fine. What she and Olivier had found together was nothing more than hot lust, superior sex caused by a basic chemistry. No point in overcomplicating something that was basically simple. Yes, she'd keep it nice and simple. A sexual relationship. Relationship sounded grown-up and adult, much better than an affair, or God forbid, a romance.

Her soft sigh was a little bit sad, a little bit wistful.

"Have you fixed it?" Olivier now shifted and moved to press his mouth to the pulse point under her ear.

"Fixed what?"

"The problem that is spinning in your head." He lifted his head to stare down at her. His dark eyes were warm, content even. "Have you decided what to do about it?"

She gave him big innocent eyes.

"About what?"

"About us."

Anastacia didn't like the way the conversation was going.

"There is no us."

His soft laugh vibrated through her naked body. He was still laughing when his mouth tasted hers, when his teeth tugged on her pouty bottom lip.

"Such a beautiful, sulky, soft mouth. I am quite certain you have it all worked out. How you are going to keep me in my place now that we are lovers."

"We are not lovers. We're having sex."

"Hmmm." He kissed her, hard. "No love affair for Anastacia? Seems such a..." He kissed her again. "Shame."

The lick of panic that shot up her spine made her voice high.

"Who the hell mentioned a love affair?"

"I did."

Now that panic pooled to ice in her belly.

Face composed, voice level, she turned and studied his face.

"Look, I don't want anyone getting hurt here. When the campaign is over, you'll go your way. I'll go mine. No hard feelings.”

Olivier ran a firm hand down her side, awakening gooseflesh.

"I love the way your body responds to my touch. I love making love with you, Anastacia. And let me tell you right now that that look does not work on me. Let me make my feelings clear. It will never be
just sex
between us,
piccolino
. I do not believe in casual sex. And I do not make love to a woman without a valid emotional connection."

"From what I've heard you've had plenty of valid emotional connections," she said tartly.

His brows lifted.

"I do not deny I have a healthy libido." He sat and brought her up with him. "You can either behave like a child, pretend you do not feel, attempt to hide your feelings for me from yourself, from me, kid yourself you do not want intimacy. Or you can behave like an adult." He caught the heavy weight of her hair in his hand, jerked her head back none too gently. "And admit that you want me in your life, in your bed. I know you want me Anastacia. Be true to yourself and admit it."

Anastacia could do nothing to control the shiver that raced up her spine. With his eyes boring into hers as they sat entwined and naked, she admitted to herself he was right. But she also knew, and maybe Olivier knew, too, that she'd fight it to the bitter end.

"You are the most supercilious, egoistical, pain in the neck, I've ever met. You always think you're right."

"Anastacia," he purred as he stood, pulled her to her feet. "You are so determinedly obstinate, headstrong and defiant. You want to win, no matter what. So much so that you fascinate me."

"I'm not playing games. I'm serious."

His response was another kiss before he lifted her in his strong arms.

"Why are you carrying me?"

"I am giving you intimacy."

"I don't need intimacy."

He walked through the sitting room, toward her bedroom.

Dark eyes filled with something like tenderness met hers.

Her heart went crazy in her chest.

"Yes, Anastacia, you do."

She opened her mouth and then snapped it shut when a horrible, horrible thought occurred to her.

He was right?