Public Affair, Secretly Expecting (6 page)

Juno knew exactly who Daisy was referring to; she could already feel the heat of Mac’s gaze burning into the back of her neck.

Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him striding through the crowd. Six feet two of leanly muscled and devastatingly sexy male. Cool blue eyes focused on her face with the intensity of a heat-seeking missile. Her pulse rate skidded from merengue to macarena in one frantic heartbeat. He didn’t just look dangerous. He looked savage. Making her feel like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming freight train. Why was he glaring at her like that? And why was it making her feel as if she were about to spontaneously combust?

She kept her eyes on his, unable to relinquish eye contact. Okay, this was not good news, because that wasn’t panic making her light-headed, it was excitement.

His steps faltered as he registered who was standing next to her. She thought she saw a flash of alarm cross his face, but by the time he drew level it was gone.

‘Hello.’ He nodded in greeting, but the single word sounded strained, then his eyes settled on the baby cradled in Connor’s arms and he went completely still.

‘Let me introduce you to your nephew, Mac.’ Connor stroked Ronan’s soft curls as the baby’s sleepy head drooped onto his shoulder. ‘This is our son, Ronan
Cormac
Brody.’

Mac continued to stare at the baby. ‘Ronan, is it?’ he said at last, the words barely audible over the heavy dance beat from the ballroom. He thrust his hands into his pockets. ‘He’s a handsome lad.’

Connor gave a heavy sigh. ‘We think so.’ The sadness and resignation in his voice made Juno’s stomach hurt again. Had Mac even noticed the baby’s middle name? And why was he being so reserved? It was almost as if he had retreated into his own world.

‘And he’s exhausted, because it’s about a decade past his bedtime,’ Daisy said, cutting through the tension with a bright smile. Placing a palm on her son’s back, she shot Connor a telling look. ‘We should get him to bed.’ She turned to Mac. ‘We’re so glad you came, Mac. We would have liked to see more of you tonight, but we understand if you feel uncomfortable.’

Juno waited for Mac to deny it. Had he been avoiding Daisy and Connor all evening? And if so why? But he didn’t deny it; in fact he didn’t offer any explanation at all.

Daisy took his hand and gave it a quick squeeze. ‘You’ll always have an open invitation to visit us in London. Whenever you’re ready.’

‘Thanks,’ he said at last, his eyes flicking briefly to Connor and the baby. ‘It was a pleasure to meet you both, and your lad.’

His tone reminded Juno of the polite, distant way he’d spoken to the guests outside the church. And she knew he had no intention of accepting Daisy’s invitation.

After the two brothers bid a stilted farewell to each other and Mac accepted Daisy’s quick hug, Juno watched the couple leave. Connor wrapped his free arm around his wife’s waist and she rested her head on his shoulder. A band of emotion clutched at Juno’s chest. The couple had been as disappointed by what had just happened as she had.

Heartsick for her friends, Juno gathered her courage and made herself ask the question she’d wanted to ask ever since Mac had turned up at the church.

‘What made you change your mind? Why did you come?’ she asked. He’d hurt Daisy and Connor with his reserved behaviour. Did he even realise that? ‘Because it’s pretty obvious you don’t want to celebrate your brother’s wedding.’

His jaw went rigid and his brows lowered over stormy eyes. His face wasn’t expressionless any more. In fact, he looked furious. ‘You think?’ he snapped, the tone brittle with sarcasm.

She opened her mouth to ask what on earth was wrong with him, but before she could get a single syllable out he’d grabbed her wrist and hauled her into the ballroom. He’d shoved his way past several couples slow-dancing in the darkness, dragging her behind him, before she’d got over the shock enough to speak.

‘What are you doing?’ she stammered, struggling to match his lengthy strides, and keep from being hobbled by the long gown wrapping round her ankles.

Either he hadn’t heard her or he didn’t care. He didn’t even break stride. Shock gave way to temper. People were staring at them. People she knew. And if he didn’t slow down she was liable to break an ankle trying to keep up with him. She tried to dig her heels in but he just kept on walking, almost pulling her right off her feet.

Getting more annoyed by the second, she grabbed his hand and tried to prise his grip loose, but his fingers only tightened. They reached the other side of the ballroom and he marched through a set of terraced doors leading onto a secluded balcony. The warm night air hit her skin as he released her to kick the door shut behind them. The sharp slam echoed across the valley and cut the throb of the dance music down to a distant hum.

Her bare back butted against the old stone of the balcony rail as he bore down on her, his dark shape silhouetted by the torches framing the door. Anger and something a great deal more disturbing glittered in his eyes.

A shiver rippled down her spine as she got the sudden impression of a tiger let loose from its cage.

‘H-have you gone completely mental?’ she stammered, starting to feel unpleasantly like that damn rabbit again.

‘How long does it take to change a pair of shoes?’ he snarled, his voice dangerously low. ‘I’ve been searching the place for you for the last three hours.’

She sucked in a hasty breath. So astonished at the accusation she didn’t have a clue what to say. She could not possibly be flattered. That would be nuts. The wayward emotion flowing through her had to be something else.

‘You were supposed to be showing me around, darlin’. Remember? Not hiding from me like some frightened little schoolgirl.’

Okay, that wasn’t flattering, it was insulting.

‘A what…?’ she sputtered. Who the heck did he think he was anyway? He’d just hauled her across the dance floor in front of everyone like a sack of potatoes. ‘You were getting enough attention,’ she snapped, regrouping as best she could. ‘You hardly needed me there, too.’

‘Damn. You
were
hiding from me? What the hell for?’ Now he sounded incredulous as well as furious.

Her chin shot up as she fought the blush. ‘I was
not
hiding from you, you conceited jerk.’ But she had been, and she knew it.

His eyes narrowed and it was obvious he knew it too. The blush got worse.

He grasped her arm, tugged her onto her toes. ‘What game are you playing?’ He held her chin, forced her face up. ‘First you kiss me until I’m so hot I can’t see straight. Then you run off. And now you’re doing the whole damn thing all over again.’ He searched her face with an intensity that had heat flooding between her thighs. ‘Stop playing hard to get. There’s no need,’ he murmured, his lips a millimetre from hers. ‘Believe me, you’ve already got my full attention.’

She flattened her palms against the rigid muscles of his chest, her body shaking. His arms banded around her waist, crushing her in his embrace, his heat burning through the thin fabric of her dress.

‘I don’t want your full attention,’ she said desperately, but the words were breathless and unconvincing, her pulse fluttering like the wings of a trapped bird.

‘Is that so?’ he said, clasping her neck, sinking his fingers into her hair. ‘Why don’t you prove it, then?’

She heard her own staggered gasp moments before his lips swooped down in a harsh, punishing kiss. Her fingers fisted convulsively in his shirt, but her lips parted and she surrendered to the powerful possessive strokes of his tongue. A fissure of raw, flaming need cracked open and sent the earthquake racking her body right off the Richter scale.

‘Kiss me back,’ he urged in a strained whisper.

Her arms lifted and circled his neck, all thoughts of resistance gone as the bone-deep longing, the wild, crazy thrill of exhilaration, fizzed inside her like vintage champagne. Their tongues tangled in a frantic dance. A new unknown power surged through her as he shuddered in response.

He tore his lips away, his breathing as ragged as hers. ‘No more games,’ he murmured.

He held her cheeks in his palms, his eyes black with desire. ‘I came here tonight because I want you. My hotel’s in the next valley. If we hurry we should be there in ten minutes.’

She searched his face, harsh with desire, and struggled to make sense of what was happening to her.

Mac had lit a fuse inside her that was about to explode. She wanted him to keep on touching her, to keep on kissing her. She was tired of being afraid. Tired of denying herself the kind of human contact that every woman was supposed to crave. She’d never craved it before. Not even with Tony. But she craved it now. This was the moment she’d been waiting for. The moment when she got to triumph over what had happened six years ago. She had to seize it or she could well regret it for the rest of her life.

So she said the only thing that seemed important. ‘I don’t have any protection with me.’

‘Lord, I love practical women.’ He barked out a laugh. ‘Don’t worry, I came prepared, but the supplies are back at the hotel.’

He stroked his thumbs down her neck and gripped her bare shoulders in hot hands. ‘Are you sure about this?’

That he would ask, when it had to be obvious she was already a sure thing, gave her the courage to take that final leap into insanity.

She nodded.

‘Thank heaven for that,’ he said, grasping her hand and marching back across the balcony. ‘Let’s get the hell out of here. We’ve wasted enough time already.’

Chapter Five

M
AC
got to the hotel in eight minutes flat, driving the Porsche like a maniac as Juno sat trembling in the passenger seat. The scent of leather and man cocooned her in a world of the senses. She tried to focus only on the physical. The painful throb of her heartbeat, the sharp, heady fragrance of arousal that permeated the car and the rush of the warm night air in her hair as the dark countryside flashed past. She didn’t look at him. She couldn’t allow herself to think about consequences, about caution or practicality.

But as she rushed to follow his long strides through the hotel lobby and up the stairs to his suite her mind tumbled back to that long-ago summer. What if she were getting in over her head? What if she couldn’t handle what was going to happen?

She walked through the door into his suite and forced herself to remember she wasn’t that foolish girl any more. She’d grown up. She’d survived the very worst and now she was taking the next step. This night with Mac had nothing whatsoever to do with love or dreams. And everything to do with purely physical pleasure. Tony had stolen something from her all those years ago and now she was going to get it back. And that was all that mattered.

Mac didn’t ask her permission, he simply strolled through the suite’s drawing room into his bedroom, her hand still clutched tight in his. He hadn’t said a word and neither had she since they’d left the chÂteau.

Her pulse pounded as he stripped off his jacket and threw it over a chair, then flicked up a switch on the wall. The light dazzled her for a second before he came into focus, looking imposingly masculine and out of place amid the room’s fussy antique furniture. Then her gaze snagged on the distinctive bulge in his trousers and she froze.

‘What is it?’

Her eyes shot to his face. ‘Nothing,’ she mumbled, feeling like a naÏve fool as a whole new set of doubts crowded in.

What if she was terrible at this? What if she made a mistake? In the comforting shadows of the balcony, with him kissing her, holding her, the physical chemistry between them had seemed so simple, so natural, so right. But now, under the bright lights of his hotel bedroom, with his body so obviously hard and ready, it didn’t seem simple any more.

She knew next to nothing about sex. She hadn’t made love in six years and the little she remembered about that one brief liaison hadn’t exactly prepared her to sleep with a man like Mac Brody.

A man who’d probably had more good sex than she’d had hot dinners.

He placed a hand on her shoulder and she jumped.

‘Easy, darlin’,’ he said, stroking his thumb into the hollow of her collarbone. He pressed a kiss to her cheek. ‘Relax. This’ll be good for both of us, I promise.’ He took her hand, led her to the bed. ‘Let’s lie down. Take it slow and easy. I’m not going to jump you straight off. I swear.’

She couldn’t speak, the rapid beats of her heart hammering against her throat. If only he would jump her. Then she could get this over with quickly, before she lost her nerve completely.

He settled next to her, his long, lean body making the mattress dip.

Pushing her hair back, he nuzzled the sensitive skin beneath her ear. The kiss was barely a whisper, but the sizzle of awareness shot through her, giving her a much-needed burst of courage.

Stay in the moment, Juno. Just stay in the moment.

She reached for his shirt, yanked it free of his trousers with clumsy haste. As he teased her neck with light butterfly kisses her palm explored the hot, muscled flesh, discovering the ridges of his six pack and the thin trail of hair bisecting his belly button. But then his fingers slipped under the straps of her dress, easing the bodice down and exposing the lace at her cleavage. She shuddered, her hands trembling to a halt on his belly.

She didn’t think she could do this.

He moved back. Lifting her fingers, he kissed the knuckles. ‘Okay, enough of that now.’ His voice rasped, the strain clear. ‘You look scared to death. What’s wrong?’

She swallowed, the tiny bit of courage deserting her. Could he see? Could he already tell how useless she was at this?

‘Can we turn the lights off?’ she whispered. She didn’t want him to see her naked. Her breasts were small, her hips narrow and boyish.

He cupped her cheek, a tenderness in his eyes she hadn’t expected. ‘No, we can’t. I haven’t waited two long weeks to make love to you in the dark.’

She opened her mouth to object, but he pressed a finger to her lips.

‘Let’s compromise.’

He left the bed to turn off the main light switch, leaving only the pearly glow from the bedside lamp. Even so, panic consumed her as he returned.