Kitabı oku: «Seduction In Sydney», sayfa 4
CHAPTER FIVE
HE OPENED the sliding glass door and she went ahead to stand out on his terrace. A soft sea breeze ruffled her hair and he smoothed it with his hand.
The last few hours had tilted his axis. Twirled his thoughts like the rides had twirled their bodies, shifted his plans from conquest to surrender, made him see that taking this woman to bed when they had no future could harm her, and he didn’t want to do that.
Soon he would move on to the next city. Needed to. Was unable to form a trusting relationship because so much trust had been broken in the past and the scars were deep. Had crippled him for the emotional agility a relationship needed.
But he wanted her badly.
She leaned back into his body, her slender neck enticing his mouth, and he dropped a kiss under her ear. She tasted so good, felt like silk, and her body pressed back into him so that they both felt his hardness rise.
She wriggled some more and he bit back a groan as he strove to speak normally. ‘Perhaps we should go in. Would you like coffee?’
‘It’s not coffee I was thinking about.’
‘Really?’ His mind was lost to conversation. Was fixated on the woman in his arms. The need to create distance fading as the heat built between them.
He spoke into her hair. Desperate for one of them to be sensible. ‘I leave in a few weeks. I may not return.’
She spun in his arms and looked up at him. Unflinching. So courageous. Her head up. Green eyes burning like the starboard lights of ships in the night and he’d never wanted another woman more than at this moment when she offered herself to him.
Then unexpectedly she said, ‘I’m a little rusty so you’d better be good.’
And his heart cracked open just a little more. He couldn’t help the smile that pulled his cheeks and made him shake his head in wonder. Feel the pound of his heart and the jump in his groin.
‘I am good.’ Marco closed his arms around her and Emily’s silver shoes left the ground.
Suddenly she was trembling with her own audacity but it felt so good. So different from going home alone tonight and regret and an empty bed.
He spun her like she’d been spun so many times in the last two hours and the lights of the harbour blurred as he swept through the doors with her hard against his chest, carried like a child, placed her like a princess in the middle of a gorgeously pillowed bed.
She watched him and he watched her. Pulled off his shoes and socks, unbuttoned his shirt, never taking his eyes from her face, until the shirt fell open to reveal the breadth of his chest, undid his trousers so that they flapped open to reveal the curling hairs that snaked down, slid them off to reveal his black briefs. Then he stopped.
She moistened her lips. Oh, my goodness. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. In black shorts, just like she’d imagined. Her throat closed and she swallowed to moisten her dry mouth. ‘I had hoped you might wear those black trunk things.’
‘So you wondered.’ He smiled at her and never had he looked more like the gypsy king as he did then with his dark chocolate eyes burning down at her. Just one word as he held out his hand.
‘Come.’
And suddenly it was easy. To reach and take his hand. To stand in front of him as he undid the covered buttons on her blouse until it too hung open. Allow his big hands to slowly slide over her hips until she stood before him in her underwear. The only indulgence she allowed herself.
The tip of one long finger slid slowly from her throat, between her lace-covered breasts, to the top of her ribboned bikini. ‘What is this delight?’
She blushed. Her secret was out but she doubted he’d be telling anybody. He’d better not.
‘Such beautiful underclothes.’ He brushed her face with his lips and bent to breathe his way down between her breasts. Tasting and murmuring. ‘Such a beautiful body.’ He looked up at her. ‘You are exquisite.’
She should be doing something. Touching him, but she didn’t know where to start. Shouldn’t be just having all the fun. Tried not to look at the bulge in the dark briefs in front of her. She hadn’t thought this far. To her inexperience. Her shortcomings as a lover. She could feel the beginnings of shame, left over from her rigid upbringing, left over from the horror of coldness and disgust from her parents the last time she’d lived with them.
She turned her head. She didn’t want to think of that. Especially now.
Marco felt the change come over her. Looked swiftly at her face, straightened and drew her against him.
‘What is it, innamorata? Sweetheart?’
‘Nothing. Kiss me.’
It was not nothing. But he would kiss her. Hold her and show her how much he wanted her. And that was all for the moment. It would be no good for him if she was not also transported.
Emily sat in the pre-dawn light on the ferry huddled into her thin wrap, lost and confused, unable to believe she’d slept with him. While her daughter lay in hospital.
She’d woken at five, spooned by a strong man’s body, the curve of her hips tucked into his heat, her lower body pleasantly aware of a new set of muscles she hadn’t used in a while and her face had flamed as erotic snapshots of their night had blown on the embers low in her belly and urged her to arch back into him.
His arm had lain heavy across her shoulders as the panic had flared. Somewhere behind the panic a little voice had whispered that no wonder this golden man was sleeping like the dead. He was right. He was good.
She’d fought to keep her movements smooth as she’d eased out from under his hand and away from his body.
He’d murmured something in his sleep and she’d pushed a pillow into his seeking hand and he’d drifted off again.
Scooped her bra from the floor and clipped it, she remembered that spot, had picked up her panties from the chair and pulled them on, and then her skirt and blouse. She’d glanced away from the chair, remembered Marco pulling her down onto his lap, and hurriedly scooped her shoes from under the bed—she certainly remembered the bed—and then she was dressed and couldn’t think past the concept that she’d been the easiest conquest in the world.
So she’d let herself out, putting her silver shoes on in the hallway, and had tapped the lift button impatiently in case he opened the door.
Now here she was. Alone, shivering, pulling into her wharf in the early morning for the first time in her life that wasn’t because of work.
An awful thought jolted as the ferry bumped the wharf and she checked her phone. No missed calls from Annie or the hospital. She sighed and thought self-mockingly, How lucky, because she suspected there had been some moments there when the whole apartment block could have come down around their ears and neither would have noticed. Would have thought it just part of the impact of making love together. Oh, my goodness, she wasn’t sure how she could regret that!
Marco woke to an empty bed. Like he did every morning, because he never asked a woman to stay. Today he had expected it to be different.
He’d heard the door shut and he opened his eyes as he sighed, slapped his forehead, and groaned. What had he done? What had she done to him? His hand slid across the remaining warmth where her head had lain and he wanted to run. He just wasn’t sure if it was as far as he could get from Sydney or after Emily.
He did neither. He sat on his terrace and nursed his espresso as he looked over the waking harbour. Imagined her hunched in the ferry on her way home, but by the time he realised she would be cold in her thin wrap it was too late to do anything but abuse his own stupidity.
Obviously she didn’t want to face him this morning, which was a damn shame because already he missed her. Missed her in more ways than he should. Regretted, of course, they had not made love one more time—because he was afraid he hadn’t quite got her out of his system. In fact, he regretted he hadn’t the chance to share breakfast, drink coffee, watch boats together.
He missed her. Missed Emily. And this was bad for a man who did not wish to stay in one place.
CHAPTER SIX
‘HI, MUM.’ It was ten o’clock and Annie looked rosy cheeked and relaxed.
Unlike Emily, who could barely meet her daughter’s eyes. ‘You look good. How’s your tummy this morning?’
‘Not sore at all.’ Annie stroked her little belly mound. ‘And she’s moving well. You look a little stressed. Stop worrying about us. We’ll be fine.’
Oh, goodness. ‘It’s hard not to.’ More guilt. ‘But I’ll try.’ Emily looked across at June, because she didn’t know what else to say. This was ridiculous. She needed to get a grip. No one was going to know and she could just push last night to the back of her head and forget it. Ha!
‘Hi, there, June. How are you?’
‘I’m good, thanks, Emily. How cool that Annie and I are roommates.’
‘I know. That’s great. You’ll have to tell her about the calm breathing course you did.’
‘I will.’ June’s mobile phone buzzed and Emily smiled and turned back to her daughter.
Annie whispered, ‘She knows you’re not going to go mad on her for the mobile phone. We try not to let the other staff see us use them.’
Emily lowered her own voice. ‘Maternity’s fine. We’re separate from the rest of the hospital over the sky bridge and the high-tech equipment. It’s easier for the staff too rather than running portable phones everywhere. They won’t mind.’
Of course Annie had never been on this part of the hospital as a patient and her mother hadn’t thought to explain yesterday. Was that because she’d been thinking of other things? Other people? A particular person?
Annie looked relieved. ‘Oh, good. I’m almost out of credit. Can you get some, please?’
‘I think they sell phone credit at the kiosk. I’ll ask.’
‘Goodie.’ A word that reminded her how young Annie was. ‘Do you know if Dr D’Arvello is coming in this morning?
‘It’s Saturday.’ Crikey, I hope not. Her neck heated. That was the reason she was here so early. It wasn’t even visiting hours. ‘Not sure. I’ll just get that credit.’
She needed to get away for a minute and get her head together. She was a mess and she didn’t like it. This was not how she did things. She was known for her calm and serene manner, famous for it over the hospital, and at the moment she couldn’t even recognise herself.
Ten minutes later after her quick trip to the kiosk she was feeling calmer. Head down, she waited at the main lift as her mind sorted reasonable strategies for what she was going to say to Marco when she met him again.
Someone called her name. Twice. She looked up. Evie Lockheart stood next to her with a quizzical smile on her face. ‘Earth to Emily?’
‘Oh. Sorry. Hi, Evie. How are you?’ She hadn’t made that date for afternoon tea yet.
‘So-so.’ Evie frowned. ‘You okay?’
‘Yes.’ Earth to Emily was right. She needed to plug into her surroundings. ‘Of course. I’m visiting Annie. Her baby had intrauterine surgery yesterday.’
‘Ah. I heard it all went well. Marco D’Arvello. Lucky we’ve got someone of his calibre here, even if it’s for a short time.’
Emily nodded with her head down. ‘He said Finn arranged his visit.’
‘Finn likes him.’
Emily remembered yesterday in the cafeteria. ‘Everything okay between you guys? I saw you in the kiosk yesterday.’
Evie shrugged. ‘Ah. Yes. Well. He’s a stubborn man.’
‘I’ve heard men often are.’
Evie laughed. ‘About time you did more than just hear that, isn’t it?’ Evie studied her face. ‘Shouldn’t you be retraining a stubborn man yourself?’
Marco wasn’t stubborn. But she didn’t say it. ‘I’m a little snowed under with a pregnant daughter at the moment.’
‘Of course. Though that’s the funny thing about falling in love. It doesn’t always pick the perfect moment to happen.’
Emily thought about that and didn’t like the direction. ‘Well, I’ll be careful, then. This really isn’t a good time for me to be sidetracked.’ It wasn’t too late!
The lift doors opened and they moved in. Emily pressed sky bridge level and Evie leaned forward and pressed the button for Administration. The doors almost shut and then opened again.
Marco took two long strides from the left as the lift doors began to close. Stabbed the button. He’d seen Emily get in there. The doors reopened and he stepped inside.
Her eyes widened and she stepped away from him back into the corner. This woman who had left his bed that morning. As if afraid of him?
A slice of pain he didn’t expect. Did she feel she needed to do that? Peripherally he was aware there was another woman in the elevator so he leant against the side wall and nodded. It was the woman with Finn yesterday in the cafeteria.
The other woman smiled at him. ‘We were just talking about you.’ Vaguely he realised she was pretty but he only had eyes for Emily.
Then her words sank in. That wasn’t what he expected to hear. Gossip? He felt the air still in his lungs. Memories from his childhood as always the people whispered behind his back as he walked. Trust issues reared their ugly head. His father’s words, ‘Never trust anyone.’ So already she was boasting. He had not expected that.
She held out her hand. ‘I’m Evie Lockheart. So you operated on Annie yesterday.’
Ah. ‘Si.’ They shook hands. ‘Dr Lockheart. You must thank Finn for me. Last night we dined on the brig.’ Then Evie’s last words penetrated the haze of hurt. She’d only said he’d operated on her daughter.
Evie’s face lit up. ‘The three-master? Lovely. And the weather was great last night. Who’d you go with?’
Emily’s face was pink and already he felt guilt for his thoughts—let alone the indiscretion he had started in retaliation. ‘A friend.’
The lift stopped and the doors opened. Evie turned to Emily, saw her red face and frowned, but Marco had his hand across the doors, waiting for her to exit. ‘Is this you?’
She turned to look at him. Glanced at Emily again and stepped out. ‘Thanks. See you later, Emily.’
‘Bye, Evie.’ Emily didn’t step away from the corner as the lift doors closed.
Evie Lockheart watched the lift doors shut. Frowned. Stared at the doors a minute longer and then smiled. There just might be something going on there.
Nice if someone had a normal relationship. Emily deserved it. She turned and headed down to Finn’s office. She hoped to hell he’d calmed down since yesterday.
Sometimes she felt as if she was just another conquest to him and at others she thought she glimpsed their unwilling connection. But, damn it, she cared.
He’d point blank refused to talk to her about his problem. Like the future of his career wasn’t worrying him. She only wanted to help.
She’d been shocked by the depth of emotional turmoil she’d seen in his eyes. Finn the invincible looking just for a moment anything but invincible and it had stayed with her. Of course it had stayed with her. She’d barely slept. But then again she hadn’t slept well since the day she’d gone to his flat and discovered a side to herself she hadn’t realised existed. A wanton, wild and womanly side she’d only shown to Finn.
A side that he had mocked—and here she was, back for more.
But today wasn’t about that—or even them as a couple, if that was what they were. It was to talk about the possibility of a cure. Again.
Yesterday’s discussion hadn’t worked. From the little he had let drop, the experimental surgery—despite the huge risk—offered a chance Finn could continue the work he lived for and take away the pain he tried to hide. If it was a success.
Even odds. Fifty per cent he might be able to operate or fifty per cent he might never operate again.
All this was constantly going over in her mind and how she could broach the subject when he obviously wanted no interference from her, and it was driving her bonkers. Unfortunately, she couldn’t leave it alone.
Wouldn’t leave Finn to go through this alone. She had to believe they had a connection and he was the one pretending they didn’t.
She paused outside his office door and drew a deep breath. ‘Gird your loins, girl,’ she mocked herself. She knocked.
No answer. So she knocked again. ‘Finn?’
Silence. She pushed open the door and the room was empty. Damn. She circled the empty room, frustration keeping her moving as she realised she’d have to psych herself up all over again. Then her gaze fell on his desk.
The research papers he’d mentioned. Explanations of the experimental surgery. So he had considered it, despite his horror of the risks. She could understand that, see his abhorrence of life without his work, but he had to do it. You couldn’t live with increasing pain for ever. The time was past when he could do nothing.
‘What are you doing here?’ Finn stood tall and menacing in the doorway with blue ice shooting from his arctic eyes.
I’m not scared, she told herself, but she swallowed.
Guess he was still seething from yesterday, then. ‘Waiting for you.’
‘Why are you rifling my desk?’
She raised her eyebrows, outwardly calm. ‘Hardly rifling when it was all open for me to see.’
He stepped into the room and the space around her shrank to a quarter of the size. Funny what the aura of some people could do. ‘Not for you to see.’
Evie stood her ground. ‘Afraid I might suggest you consider it again?’ She paused. ‘So at least you’ve read it?’
He ignored that. ‘I’ve read it. And I don’t want to talk about it.’
She stepped around the desk until she was standing beside him. This man who infuriated and inspired and drove her insane with frustration and, she had to admit, a growing love and need to see him happy.
‘It’s a choice, Finn. One you’re going to have to consider.’
His voice grated harshly. His face was set like stone. ‘Now you want to look after me? One episode of good sex is all it took?’
She ignored that. Ignored the splinter of pain that festered inside from his contempt. Banished the pictures of him showing her the door afterwards.
‘Hippocratic oath,’ he mocked. ‘Save your patient.’
‘You’re not my patient.’ She met his eyes. Chin up. ‘Just think about it.’
His eyes narrowed further. ‘Why should you care?’
‘Because I do.’ She touched his arm and the muscles were bunched and taut beneath her fingers. ‘Is that so hard to believe?’
He shook her off. ‘I look after myself. Had to all my life and it’s never going to change.’
She took his hand and held it firmly. Looked into his face. ‘Tell me.’
He looked down but this time he didn’t pull away. ‘Tell you what?’
She shook his arm. ‘Finn. For God’s sake, let me in.’ Finally he seemed to get it. A glimmer of understanding of what she wanted to know. Why she wanted to know.
‘What?’ A scornful laugh not directed at her for a change. ‘The whole sob story?’
Evie didn’t move. ‘Yes. Please.’
He sighed. Her hand fell away as he turned and stared out over the harbour and when he started his voice was flat, emotionless, daring her to be interested in his boring tale. ‘Why would you want this? You probably know most of it. Orphan. Unstable foster-homes. The army was my best parenting experience and they don’t do affection or connection.’
A sardonic laugh that grated on her ears. ‘Maybe that’s why I fitted so well.’
She wanted to hug him. ‘You did connection okay the other night.’
She saw his frown from across the room. ‘Don’t go there, Evie.’ She flinched and he sighed. ‘Do you want to hear or not?’
She held up her hands. ‘Please.’
This time he turned to look at her fully and she watched the muscle jerk in his cheek as he held emotion rigidly in check. She wanted to cradle his head in her hands but she was too scared to interrupt him. Too scared she’d stop the flow she’d waited so long for him to start.
‘You know about Isaac. I had to watch my brother die. The same bomb that tore into me, which is wrecking my career now, took his life. The day Isaac died I died too, Evie. Since then, what little ability I had to love, I lost. And with Isaac gone I lost the only person who really cared what happened to me.’ He shrugged. ‘That’s why I am what I am. I don’t want to be around someone when I feel like that.’
She took a step towards him. Aware how much it would hurt if at this moment he rebuffed her. ‘You don’t have to feel like that, Finn.’
Sardonic sweep of eyebrows. Daring her to contradict him. ‘Don’t I?’
‘No.’ Closer.
‘Why’s that, Evie?’ The biting sarcasm was back but she refused to be put off by it. Toughened herself because she would never be cowed by this angry man who frightened others to keep them at bay.
Another step. ‘I care what happens to you, Finn.’
Vehement shake of his head. ‘Don’t pity me, Evie.’
She almost laughed. ‘You’re not a man anyone can pity, Finn. You won’t allow it. You alienate people so they don’t. But unfortunately I feel so much more for you than that.’
She swallowed, tossed caution to the winds, stepped closer and stared into his face so he couldn’t ignore her words. ‘I love you, Finn Kennedy. And there’s not a lot of reward for that at the moment.’
A more subtle shake of the head. ‘How can you love me?’
Now she was in front of him again. ‘How can I not, you stupid man? I think about you every minute of every day, wondering when you’re going to care for yourself like you should.’
He sidestepped her, crossed the room to shut the door, shut out the hospital for probably the first time since he’d started here, and then came back. Put himself in her space deliberately.
‘What are you saying, Evie?’
‘I love you. Foul temper and all.’
His hands slid around her waist. ‘I didn’t ask for that.’ Something in his voice had changed. Gave her a glimmer of hope.
‘You didn’t ask for it?’ She stared into the harsh and haunted face she loved so much. ‘Neither did I. But there’s not a lot we can do about it now.’
His face softened just a little. ‘So you weren’t just after sex the other day?’
This was what she dreaded. ‘What do you think, Finn? Did it feel like that to you?’ She’d laid herself open, exposed her soft underbelly of caring, and he could mortally wound her, even worse than he had after she’d given herself to him.
He lifted his hand and stroked the hair out of her eyes. ‘No.’ He sighed. ‘Though God knows why you bother. What I felt the other day scared the hell out of me, Evie. And that’s not all I’m scared of. I’m scared I’m not the man you think I am.’
‘Well, seeing that I don’t want to be without you, Finn, we’ll just have to take that chance. Whatever happens, I’m here for you. And always will be.’
He shook his head. Couldn’t accept that. ‘I might not just be an emotional cripple, Evie. I could be in a wheelchair.’
She leaned towards him. ‘Or it could be the answer to all your medical problems. You could get full control back. You have to take that chance.’
‘I don’t think it’s an option.’ He sighed. ‘But I’ll think about it.’ An air of finality.
She had to be satisfied with that. It was better than they’d had before today.