by Andie Brock
Well, she would see about that. Pushing her hands against his chest, which was slicked with sweat, Leah jerked her torso upright, arching her back and throwing back her head, deepening the glorious sensation of his thrusts still further. He could do this to her—he could make her feel like no other man ever could—but he couldn’t control her response.
And then she let herself go. Freely giving herself over to her orgasm, she let it take her wherever it wanted to, over the edge of the cliff and into free fall, her body jerking and writhing as sensation after sensation passed through her. She lifted her chin to the ceiling, her hair cascading down her back as she bucked and trembled. Somewhere in the midst of her intense euphoria she became aware that Jaco had also given way to his own release. And that each was gasping the other’s name.
CHAPTER SEVEN
JACO GAZED UP at Leah through narrowed eyes as he waited for his heart rate to steady, for his breathing to return to something like normal. She was still sitting astride him, with her head thrown back and her hands loosening on his chest muscles, and he followed the pale column of her throat, the V of her jawline shadowed in the fading light. So beautiful.
He had been fantasising about making love to her ever since they had been on this island. No, for far longer than that if he was being truthful—ever since that last time, the night that his son had been conceived.
Over the past year he had tried to convince himself that she meant nothing to him, that he was over Leah McDonald. Entirely unaccustomed to being dumped, he had taken her rejection at face value, told himself it was her loss. But deep down he knew it wasn’t just his pride that had taken a knock, that it was more than just a slap in the face. The sting of a slap quickly faded, but the burn of Leah’s rebuff had stayed with him. More than that, it had grown, gnawing away at him until the only way to rid himself of the canker had been to take her again. To prove to himself, and to her, that he had the power to recreate the magic they had shared. That he could make her scream his name again.
The fact that he, too, had lost control, that somehow her name had escaped his lips at the moment of orgasm, was something he preferred not to dwell on.
Leah’s head came up, and the glazed look of euphoria was quickly dispelled by a flash of something like confusion in her eyes.
The moment was over, as Jaco had known it would be—which was a pity. He could happily have taken her again. The sight of her swollen lips, her flushed cheeks and the tousled hair that she was now forcibly tucking behind her ears, was already threatening to harden him again inside her.
Levering herself off him, Leah stood unsteadily on the floor, pulling down her dress and looking around her with a slightly dazed expression, as if she wasn’t sure what to do now. Jaco swung his legs off the sofa and positioned himself in front of her, his feet apart, his arms folded over his chest. He watched as she tilted her chin, forcing herself to meet his gaze—a gaze that he was not prepared to spare her.
A surge of anger swept through him. Why did she find it so hard to make eye contact? Why could she hardly bring herself to look at him? They had done nothing wrong. As far as he knew, sex between single consenting adults was perfectly legal—even in the infuriatingly skewed world of Leah McDonald.
He certainly had no intention of apologising for what had just happened. He didn’t regret it. But as he stared at the hurt and anguish etched across her face he knew without a shred of doubt that she did.
Well, so be it. That was her problem.
With a silent growl of frustration, Jaco turned away to retrieve his jeans from where he had flung them across the floor. Without bothering with his boxers, he tugged them on, staring out at the darkening sky through the open glass doors as he buttoned up the fly. He could feel Leah’s eyes on him as surely as if he could see her, and that only increased his bitter frustration.
Oh, yeah, now she could look at him. Now he had his back to her. No doubt she was coming up with all sorts of excuses in that pretty little head of hers to justify her actions. No doubt he was going to be painted as the bad guy. No doubt it had all been his fault.
It seemed that Leah had the capacity to twist the truth to suit her purposes, to make herself the victim. Though why she should want to do that he had no idea. Unless maybe it was a guilty conscience for keeping Gabriel’s existence a secret.
But right now he didn’t have the patience to try and work it out. If they were going to live together—and for the sake of his son Jaco was going to make damned sure they did—they were going to have to find some way to break through this protective wall Leah had erected around herself. A way that didn’t involve sex. Because that seemed to be the only thing they did right. Too right.
Despite everything, Jaco knew that he would have Leah in his bed every night if he had his way—that he would never tire of her luscious body and the way she gave it so freely, her soft moans of arousal, the wild shrieks of ecstasy. He wanted her as he had never wanted any other woman, and right now, with Leah’s self-righteous eyes boring into his back, that didn’t feel good. It felt like a weakness. One that he had to conquer.
Jamming his hands into his jeans pockets, he turned around, deliberately ignoring Leah, who appeared to be still rooted to the spot by her own antipathy.
‘I’m going to have another go at making something to eat.’ He strode past her, heading for the kitchen. ‘Do you want to join me?’
‘No.’
Her reply was as emphatic as he had known it would be.
‘I’m...I’m going to take a shower.’
‘As you wish.’
He certainly wasn’t going to try and persuade her. She could take all the showers she wanted—run the water to scalding hot, scrub her skin until it was red and raw—but it wouldn’t make any difference. It still wouldn’t erase what they had just done. Leah could fight it all she liked, but the fact was they hungered for each other, they burned for one another. And there wasn’t a damned thing either of them could do about it.
* * *
Leah stared at the broad expanse of Jaco’s bare back as he marched towards the kitchen, her shoulders finally sagging as she let out a shuddering breath.
Well done, Leah. Of all the things she really, really shouldn’t have done, having wild, passionate sex with Jaco on the sofa was right up there. Hadn’t she been telling herself since day one on this island that she had to be on her guard against this happening? That despite everything she knew about Jaco—or, more importantly, didn’t know—he still had a hold over her that she couldn’t break.
She was all too aware that he could set her on fire with a flash of those brown eyes. That she still fell apart under his touch. Which was why she should never have agreed to have supper with him. She should never have put herself in such a vulnerable position when she had absolutely no protection against this man.
Furious with herself, she cast about, finding where her knickers had been discarded and untwisting the flimsy fabric, pulling them back on. And that was when she saw it. A mobile phone—Jaco’s mobile phone. Lying under a low table in front of the window where it must have fallen out of Jaco’s jeans when he’d hurled them across the floor.
Cautiously, Leah made her way towards it. She could hear Jaco banging about in the kitchen, clattering pans in a way that suggested he wasn’t any happier about what they had just done than she was. Bending down, she reached under the table, closing her hand over the phone and holding it against her chest as she stood up, casting a furtive look over her shoulder in the direction of the kitchen.
This was it—her chance to get off this island, for her and Gabriel to escape. With her heart thudding, she brought the screen to life. It was locked, of course, but there was an emergency button at the bottom. She touched it with a trembling finger, pressing the phone to her ear so hard it hurt and moving to the corner of the room, so that she had the best chance of making herself heard whilst st
ill listening out for Jaco.
The phone was answered immediately. ‘Hi, yes—sí. I need the police—polizia. Right away...pronto.’
The woman at the other end of the phone replied in rapid Italian and Leah felt her heart sink. Oh, God, why had she never learnt the language properly?
‘English. Inglese,’ she tried desperately. ‘Do you speak English?’
To Leah’s intense relief, the woman calmly replied that she did.
‘Oh, thank you!’ she breathed into the phone. ‘You must come quickly. I have been kidnapped. Me and my baby son. You have to come and rescue us.’
The words tumbled out in a hoarse, barely coherent whisper.
‘I don’t know exactly where we are, but it’s a private island off the coast of Sicily, somewhere to the north. It is owned by Jaco Valentino. He used to be called Garalino. He has been keeping us here for nearly two weeks and he’s taken away my phone and...Yes, you have to believe me...My name? It’s Leah McDonald...No, I can’t speak up, because he is here and he might come in at any moment...M-C-D-O-N-A-L-D...Yes, that’s right. Leah. L-E-A-H...No, no—whatever you do, don’t ring back on this number, because it is his phone...I don’t have a contact number—I told you, he’s taken my phone. You have to come and find us right away...No, I’m not in any imminent danger as such...No, he’s not physically violent. But what I’m saying is the truth! Please...Listen to me...Oh, God, he’s coming back. I have to go.’
Rapidly ending the call as she heard Jaco approaching, Leah hurried to slide the phone back under the table, where she had found it, straightening up and rearranging her features just in time as he walked in.
‘Still here?’ All mocking arrogance, Jaco cast his eyes around the room.
For all his nonchalance, Leah knew exactly what he was looking for. Bending down, he picked up his tee shirt and Leah saw his eyes alight on the phone. She watched as he strolled over to retrieve it before jamming it into the back pocket of his jeans.
Phew, she had got away with it! Now all she had to do was wait to be rescued. She didn’t know how or when, but surely someone would come to her aid?
‘Yes, I’m still here.’ Emboldened by what she had just managed to do, Leah gave him a defiant pout. ‘For the time being, anyway.’
Jaco narrowed his eyes, studying her far more closely than she had intended. Or wanted. Why on earth had she said that? She needed to be so much more careful around this man.
‘I mean, I’m going to have that shower now.’ Still she hesitated, though she didn’t know why.
‘Fine.’ Jaco gave her a look of disdain, designed to show her how little he cared. ‘Be my guest.’
Leah turned to go, but then, with fire still coursing through her veins, she swung back. ‘But I’m not your guest, am I?’ She shot him a combative stare. ‘I am your prisoner.’
‘Call it what you like.’
Jaco folded his arms across his bare chest. Why couldn’t he put some clothes on? Why was he still taunting her?
‘But I will say that for someone who is being kept here against her will you have been remarkably accommodating.’ His eyes glittered with scorn. ‘I don’t seem to recall you complaining about being held captive just now. Quite the reverse, in fact.’
Leah felt the blood ringing in her ears. ‘Why, you arrogant son of a—’ Hurling herself towards him, she raised her hand, wanting nothing more than to wipe that smug, supercilious sneer off his supremely self-satisfied face with a hard slap.
But Jaco caught her wrist with the ease of a man who had probably done it several times before, bringing it down to his chest and holding it firmly in his grip.
‘Temper, temper.’ He stared calmly down at her, a maddening smirk playing on his lips. ‘You really need to try and control these outbursts, you know.’
Leah growled with anger, tugging to try and free herself.
‘Or maybe it’s some sort of Scottish thing—flying off the handle at the slightest thing.’
The fury was now flowing through her like a river of molten metal. If it wasn’t enough insulting her—he was now disrespecting her whole country.
‘Something to do with your Celtic blood...all that red hair?’
‘Or maybe it’s to do with the fact that you are a lying, cheating, two-timing bastard!’
Silence fell around them like a wall of lead.
‘I beg your pardon?’ Jaco dropped her wrist as if were white-hot. ‘What did you just call me?’
‘A lying, cheating, two-timing bastard.’ Leah repeated the words with as much authority as she could drag up when he was looking at her with the coldly murderous stare of a trained assassin. ‘Because that is what you are.’
Jaco’s eyes narrowed, glinting like steel. He raised his hand to his neck, as if to stop the words from forming in his throat as he continued to stare at her, making no sound apart from the exhalation of breath from his flared nostrils.
Leah shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She needed to hold herself steady, to stop the tremor that was starting to shake her knees, making her hands tremble. He was such a formidable presence, so darkly, intensely forceful, that when he unleashed this sort of quiet assault it was almost impossible not to be slain by the power of it.
But she refused to be slain. She would stand up to him because she had done nothing wrong. She had only spoken the truth.
‘So let me get this straight.’ With soft but deadly assurance Jaco reached out, curling his hand around the back of Leah’s head and tilting it upwards so that she had no escape from his gaze in the dying light. ‘You are accusing me of cheating?’
‘Yes.’ Leah swallowed hard. ‘Yes, I am.’
‘And tell me...’ His voice was terrifyingly calm, his breath hot on her upturned face. ‘Just what right do you have to call into question anything I may or may not have done in the last twelve months?’
‘So you don’t deny it, then?’ Leah persisted, despite the profound pain coursing through her.
‘I have no intention of confirming or denying anything to you.’ He released her head as if he no longer wanted to touch her, his voice a contemptuous sneer. ‘May I remind you that you were the one who walked out on me? What I have done in the intervening time, who I have slept with, is none of your damned business.’
‘I’m not talking about the intervening time.’ Leah struggled to pull out the dagger in her heart, to ignore the searing agony of imagining him with another woman, taking her in his arms, making love to her. ‘I am talking about when we were together.’
‘When we were together?’
Twisting the blade still deeper, Jaco repeated the word as if it had been far too long ago—or, worse still, too pifflingly insignificant—for him to even remember. Or maybe he had never considered them to be an item.
‘Yes.’
It took all her reserves of courage and bravado to say the word, when every fibre of her being wanted to scream and shout and beat her fists against his callous, heartless, stony chest. To rage that something that had meant everything to her could have meant so little to him.
‘You think I was cheating on you then?’
He looked genuinely baffled. A great performance.
Leah glared back. If he was going to try and lie his way out of this she was going to hate him even more.
‘I don’t think—I know. You were cheating on both of us.’
Jaco’s dark brows knotted. He was looking at her as if she had completely lost it. ‘I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about, Leah. Where is that crazy brain of yours taking you?’
‘Crazy, eh?’ Leah hurled back. ‘I’m sure that would suit you just fine, wouldn’t it? To make out that I’m crazy because I’ve found out what you have been up to. Because I know your shameful secret.’
Suddenly he was deadly still, poised like a cobra about to strike. ‘And
what, exactly, do you mean by that?’
Ah, yes, now she had got his attention.
‘I know, Jaco.’ She fixed him with a piercing stare. ‘I know about Francesca!’
There—she had said it. Spilt the poison that had been eating her up inside for so long.
There was a shocked beat of silence before Jaco finally spoke.
‘Francesca?’
Her name whispered across his lips in a way that made Leah’s heart constrict with pain. The colour had drained from his face; shock stiffening his spine. He looked completely stunned, horrified—almost felled by this appalling disclosure.
But if Leah had thought she would get any satisfaction from his torment, any sense of revenge, she had been sorely mistaken. Jaco’s extreme reaction only served to demonstrate just how much this woman meant to him. It was written all over his horrified face.
‘How the hell do you know about Francesca?’ The question was spat from his lips.
So there was to be no denial, no excuse.
‘It doesn’t matter how I know.’ Leah broke eye contact, looking down and twisting her clasped hands in front of her. Hearing him say the name of his lover out loud felt unbelievably painful—as if he was ripping open a wound that hadn’t even begun to heal. ‘The point is that I do.’
‘Oh, trust me, it matters a great deal.’ He grasped hold of her shoulders, forcing her to look at him again. ‘Tell me, Leah. Tell me right now how you know.’
‘Very well.’ His wide-eyed urgency was starting to frighten her. Who on earth was this wild, intimidating stranger, barely holding on to his control? But she had nothing to lose by telling him everything now. ‘I saw you...the two of you...having a very cosy video conversation.’
