The Bridal Bargain (8 page)

“Hannah...”

She paused, her spine tingling at the soft call. Not yet, she silently begged. Please...not yet. She couldn’t bring herself to look back, to face what had to be faced. Not yet.

“I have to know the problem in order to fix it,” came the quiet assertion. “Make up your mind to share it with me, Hannah, because it needs to be fixed. I’m not about to leave this apartment wondering if you’ll still be here tomorrow.”

How do you fix something that’s unfixable? she wondered, moving on to unlock the glass door to the balcony and slide it open.

How do you handle people like Jodie and Flynn who won’t recognise that the unfixable can’t be fixed?

She stepped outside and wandered slowly over to the railing, leaning on it, gazing out over the water, the cane fields beyond it, the mountains beyond them, the reddening sky leaching colour from both sea and land.

Impossible to roll back the forces of nature, she thought. Everything moved to a pattern as old as time. Perhaps people did, too, and there was no stopping it.

Every female instinct in her entire body quivered as she heard Tony King step out on the balcony. He brought with him a force of nature that was far more immediate than those forming the landscape in front of her. It was coming right at her, and it was not about to be rolled back, either.

Tony
set the drinks down on the glass top of the aluminium table on the balcony. There were six chairs around the table but Hannah hadn’t chosen to sit. In fact, she’d distanced herself from him as far as she could, standing at the railing, her back still turned to him, shutting him out.

Was she brooding over Flynn Lovett, wishing...?

No, damn it! Whatever had gone on between them it was two years in the past and the guy was married. Not happily but that wasn’t the point. Tony didn’t want Hannah to be vulnerable to any move Flynn might make on her. He wanted that guy wiped right out of her mind. And talking about him wasn’t going to do it. Her feelings about someone else was not what Tony wanted Hannah to share with him.

His instincts were raging at him to act.

Act now.

No waiting.

No weighing up rights and wrongs.

Talking, even thinking, was not the path to take here. Some things went beyond reason, he told himself, his legs already taking the path of their choice. Some things had to be pursued, known, taken in and processed. Some things could not be denied.

“Hannah...”

She turned her head towards him. The lost look in her eyes caused an intolerable tightness in his chest. It was wrong. She wasn’t alone, wasn’t lost. He was here. He had to get through to her.

Her skin prickled at the way he said her name—like an intense claim on her that threatened any resistance with the power to smash it. It struck a compelling need to understand what drove Tony King and drew her into turning from the railing to face the oncoming force.

Before she had time to understand anything, his arms were around her and her hands were flat against his chest and her lower body was in vibrant contact with his, completely blowing all awareness of the rest of the world right out of her mind. Hard muscular thighs pressing, a broad hot chest heaving against her palms, strong arms maintaining possession, eyes blazing into hers, intent on burning away any defensive barrier she might fling up.

No time...

His mouth crashed down on hers, starting a passionate onslaught of kisses, and some fierce wild creature burst into life inside Hannah, exulting in the passion, feasting on it, and far from flinging up barriers, she wilfully and wantonly incited an escalation of this tumult of feeling, a totally reckless exploration of it, driving Hannah’s hands up over wonderfully muscled shoulders which she fancied could bear any weight, carry any burden and make light of it, revelling in the strong column of his neck, the springy thickness of his hair, the sheer dominant manliness of him that was geared to fight any battle for her.

And her breasts were now crushed against the thump of a heart that cared about her, wanted her, his hands telling her so, his body telling her so, banishing the loneliness, bringing her in from the cold of not having anyone for herself, giving her the sense that nothing could come between her and this man. He wouldn’t let it. No other woman. Her...only her.

A deep primitive satisfaction seized her as she felt his erection pressing its urgent need to join with her, proof of how much she was desired, and the desire to have him was exploding through her, pounding a need that screamed to have the emptiness of her inner world filled by him.

Thumbs hooking into her shorts and panties, hauling them down, her own hands attacking his shorts, wild to be rid of obstructions, hot for the feeling of flesh against flesh, and the fierce elation of finding how big he was, her fingers wrapping around him, loving his arousal, anticipation of how he would use it playing sweet havoc with her own sex, the yearning so intense, so overwhelmingly needful.

He hoisted her up on the railing, one arm supporting her there as he moved between her thighs. She threw her arms around his neck, instinctively hanging on to his strength as she felt him slide between her soft folds, stroking, seeking, teasing, building the wanting to fever-pitch. She felt herself convulsing in readiness and wrapped her legs around his hips, desperate to pull him inside her, to have him there.

The first plunge came—oh, such ecstatic pleasure—and stayed deep, the whole hard length of him so deliciously deep, like an integral part of her that she’d always missed and been waiting for and here it was, making her entire body pulse with joy. Then he drew her head back from where she’d rested it near his ear and kissed her, invading her mouth with the same deep intimacy, and he scooped her off the railing and carried her with him still inside her, making her feel an integral part of him
he
couldn’t bear to let go.

He unclipped her bra, lowered her to the table surface, rolled up her T-shirt, bared her breasts and kissed them with an intensity that seemed to draw on all she was. Her body throbbed to the rhythm of his mouth, incredible sensations flooding through her, and when he raised his head and looked into her eyes, it was as though he was piercing her soul, demanding entry, forcing entry with a power that would not be denied.

“Come fly with me!”

Another command—ringing in her ears this time, like bells of jubilation—and a hand stroked her stomach, circling the butterfly she’d had tattooed around her navel as a symbol of freedom from all the stress of her life before she flew away from it. But the only freedom she wanted now was the freedom to fly with this man, to soar to heights that only they could share, and she felt him move inside her, a slow slide out, a fast slide in... pause... her muscles squeezing, holding.

Again...and again...her whole body instinctively fine-tuning itself to his rhythm... and the soaring began, like wings lifting through her, beating faster and faster, carried on currents that ebbed and flowed, lifting, floating, lifting higher to exquisite pinnacles of feeling, then flying higher still until it seemed the magical sky they were travelling shattered in a star-burst of sensation and she lost herself in it.

But she didn’t stay lost because Tony gathered her up again... Tony...cradling her against his lovely warm chest, taking her with him and she was kissing his neck, tasting his skin, breathing him in—such a wonderful, beautiful man who hadn’t stopped wanting her.

He laid her on the bed and swiftly removed the rest of her clothes, and his, so they were both fully naked. She didn’t think about how she looked to him. She was drinking in how utterly magnificent he was. To her eyes he had the perfect male physique, and when he stretched out on the bed beside her, her fingers thrilled to the sensual pleasure of touching him, the tight musculature, the satin-smooth skin, the whole shape of him.

It was probably wrong to make comparisons, but she couldn’t help thinking he was more essentially masculine than Flynn, stronger, harder. Tony King... a king amongst men. She smiled at the thought and he smiled at her smile, lifting a hand to lightly trace the curve of her mouth with his index finger, making her lips tingle, just as he made her whole body tingle, though he could do that with only a look.

“Happier now?” he asked, his eyes simmering with pleasure in her.

“Yes,” she answered simply. It was true, though she didn’t want to look at why. Maybe she was in shock at arriving where she now was. Maybe she’d moved beyond shock to a place where normal things didn’t matter. Her mind whispered,
Let it be. Even if it was only for now, just let it be.

His smile turned slightly crooked. “I hope we haven’t committed a totally rash act. I didn’t think about protection.”

She frowned over the health concerns that hadn’t even entered her head. It was an intrusion of a reality that jarred on her, yet ignoring it wasn’t right, either. “You don’t have to worry about me,” she answered quickly. It was embarrassing to ask but a risk had been taken. She searched his eyes anxiously. “I trust you’re...”

“In tiptop condition, yes. But there is the pregnancy issue.”

A fast calculation relieved her on that score. “Safe,” she assured him.

“You’re on the pill?”

“No.” At his raised eyebrows, she added, “No need. I haven’t had sex for two years.”

His brows dipped into a dark frown. “Two years,” he muttered, as though that length of time seemed very unnatural to him.

She shrugged. “I haven’t wanted to.”

A sharp look. “But you wanted to with me?”

“Yes.”

Eyes probing hers. “And you’re happy about it?”

“Yes.” For now, she was. How could she not be with a man like him wanting her like this?

His face cleared into a wide grin. “Well, so am I, Hannah O’Neill. Got to say you’ve had me in knots from the first moment of meeting.”

“You...
inknots?” She shook her head incredulously. “I thought you didn’t like me.”

“Didn’t like the situation of an employee getting under my skin. It’s a good rule...never mix business with pleasure.”

Understanding clicked in. “I won’t take advantage of this in our work situation, Tony.”

“No, I don’t believe you will.” He stroked her cheek, his eyes adding their own warm caress. “It’s very clear you’re not a user, Hannah.”

He wasn’t, either. She was sure of it. He was a man who took control, who wore a mantle of responsibility easily, as though born to it. “A fair man,” Megan had said, and Hannah didn’t doubt it for a moment. Clearly he had guessed, known, felt that the physical attraction was mutual, which, of course, had triggered this outcome.

She thought what an extraordinary day it had been—this morning, fretting over the disturbing strength of Tony’s sexual impact on her, finding how amazingly real it was this afternoon, and in between ... Jodie and Flynn with all the blighting memories of their betrayal of her trust in so many things.

Tony saw the happy light in her eyes dim just before her lashes lowered, veiling the clear green windows to her soul. He instantly sensed she’d gone to that bleak place she didn’t want to share with him. Had he said anything to lead her down that road?

Not a user...

But Jodie Lovett was.

And two years of celibacy, feeling no need for sex.

Maybe a woman could hold back physical frustration that long without feeling too much stress. Women were certainly different to men. Nevertheless, it smacked to Tony of a deliberate disassociation from her own sexuality, and that spelled big hurt. Not physical or she wouldn’t have responded to him as she had. No, this was emotional trauma so deep it had turned her off getting close to a guy, probably in every sense, and from her reaction to Flynn Lovett...

Was she thinking of him?

Comparing?

Primitive instincts surged to the fore again, demanding action that would spin his rival right out of her thoughts.

“Unbraid your hair!”

The command jolted Hannah out of her bitter memories. She was with Tony...Tony who was looking at her with such fierce desire in his eyes she was instantly flooded with the heat of his focus on her and the energy behind it—such powerful energy, pouring into her heart, making it leap with excitement.

“My hair?” she repeated in mesmerised wonder that he did desire her so much.

“I’m into unknotting everything right now,” he declared with a challenging little smile. “I want to see it flowing free.”

Free...
It was a magic word, dispelling all the emotional baggage that had weighed her down today. The idea of being completely free with Tony was exhilarating. She sat up to have both hands free to undo the band that kept the braid fastened, then pulled the thick rope of hair over her shoulder so she could see to unknot it.

Tony clamped his hands around her waist and with seemingly effortless ease, lifted her to straddle him as he rolled onto his back, settling her in very intimate contact right over the apex of his thighs, which he raised enough to hold her precisely in that provocative position, grinning wickedly as he said, “I need you there so I can watch you properly.”

She couldn’t help laughing. There was absolutely nothing
proper
about this. It was definitely wicked, deliciously wicked, and the wanton creature who had emerged in Hannah when Tony had taken hold of her on the balcony, stirred into life again, urging the fun of teasing, the satisfaction of exciting Tony, watching him watching her.

Just a slight undulation of her hips and his semi-aroused state showed immediate interest in the stimulation, coming to full attention so quickly, the stimulation became highly mutual and so tantalising, Hannah could barely keep her fingers working on loosening the thick swathes of her braid, especially when Tony started caressing her breasts, lightly fanning her nipples with his thumbs, a totally absorbed expression on his face, his eyes simmering their pleasure in every aspect of her body.

It made her feel incredibly sexy, even more so when she shook her hair loose and he wound long rippling waves of it around his hands and pulled her down to him, kissing her with wildly erotic passion as the mass of her hair tumbled around both their faces, increasing the sense of intimacy, of diving headlong into a secret world of their own—just Hannah and Tony. “Put me inside you.”

Yes, she thought, yes...raising herself enough to do it, and even as she felt the exquisite sensation of him sliding into her, he was lifting her breasts to his mouth, taking them, drawing them in just as she was drawing him in, a deep, deep suction that tipped her into explosive action, wanting him to feel the same piercingly sweet sensations as strongly as she did...together...as one...more and more and more so...and the wild intensity of it glittered in their eyes, sharing the frenzy of feeling, exulting in it, loving it, loving each other for the sheer experience of it, driving it beyond all control to a climax so powerful, Hannah was a melting mass of quivering nerve-ends, awash in an ecstatic sea of sensory pleasure, and Tony was cradling her, stroking her, kissing her, making her feel she was wonderful and an endless delight to him, the wanting a continuous stream, not finished, not even diminished.