The Terms of Their Affair

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The Terms of Their Affair Page 5

by Clare Connelly


  Again, Finn’s heart crumpled. “My father is just the same as me. We didn’t even own a television set when I was growing up.”

  “A television …do you mean a TV?”

  “Uh huh,” Finn agreed dolefully. “We didn’t need one. We used to read and read and read, and when we weren’t reading, we were in his garage playing with the cars.”

  “What was your favourite book? When you were my age?”

  “Hmmm,” Finn studied Maddie cautiously. “Are you ten or eleven?”

  “I’m nine,” Maddie grinned, evidently pleased by having been thought older.

  “Right. When I was nine, I just adored The Chronicles of Narnia. Everyone raves about The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, of course, but it was The Magician’s Nephew that used to captivate me every time I read it.”

  “I don’t know them,” Maddie said urgently. “Show them to me.”

  Finn smiled. “Well, I suspect you’d have read them if you had them here.”

  Her pretty little face fell. “Oh, yeah.”

  “But how about I find a copy for you?”

  “Would you really do that for me?”

  “Of course I would.”

  Maddie seemed to be struck by a silent worry. She looked at Finn shyly. “Only I have no money. I mean, I guess I do.” Her breath caught in her throat. “Mother is forever saying that I have a huge trust fund.” Finn felt her tempers rise at this woman’s poor parenting choices. “But I have no real money that I can give you and I don’t want you to spend your money on me.”

  “That’s okay,” Finn assured her, touched by her kindness.

  “No, Caradoc can pay you.” She looked over her shoulder and spoke coldly. “Caradoc, will you give Seraphina money for books?”

  Finn startled and spun around. Their eyes met with fiery force across the room. “Caradoc,” she murmured, her whole body jumping with awareness. “How long have you been standing there? You gave me a fright.”

  Maddie’s expression was one of bemusement. “He’s only been there a few minutes.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?” Finn asked, then regretted it instantly when Maddie’s little expression crumpled.

  “I’m just used to people appearing,” she said, her words watery.

  “Of course you are,” Finn immediately agreed. “How wrong of me not to know that.” She reached down and put a finger underneath Maddie’s angular chin. “Don’t be upset, Maddie. I was surprised, that’s all. We were having such a lovely time together. Why don’t we see if there’s another book you might enjoy?”

  Maddie appeared to be thinking it over, but Caradoc spoke on her behalf. “Actually, Madison is wanted by her mother now.”

  Maddie’s eyes flew wide. “Owwww,” she said petulantly. “Why?”

  “Because it is very late and you haven’t eaten dinner, or so I’m informed.”

  “I wasn’t hungry.” Her voice was water-logged again.

  “Caradoc,” Finn interrupted, her eyes meeting his with silent plea. “Can Maddie stay with me a little longer? Perhaps once she has a book to take to bed, she’ll be happier.”

  Maddie stared at this angel in awe. She’d only met her half brother twice, but she’d heard him spoken of often enough to know that he was someone to be afraid of. He was powerful and strong and scary and very, very rich. At least, that’s what Elizabetta had said.

  “Fine,” he said softly, his eyes not leaving’ Finn’s face.

  Finn turned her smile on Maddie and it was glorious. “Where do you usually choose from?” She asked Maddie.

  “Um, all over. But this is my favourite section at the moment,” she said, padding across the room to a shelf that looked to house any number of children’s book.

  “Some excellent titles here,” Finn couldn’t help admiring. She ran her fingers over the Anne of Green Gables series, and paused at Huck Finn. She shook her head. That wasn’t quite right. “Uh huh!” She exclaimed lifting her eyes higher. “Oh, Maddie. Have you read any Roald Dahl books?”

  “Roald who?” Maddie asked, answering the question with her obvious confusion.

  “Oh, wow.” She spun around, her face so full of enthusiasm that Caradoc was momentarily transfixed. “Tell me you’ve read Roald Dahl.”

  He was as confused as Maddie.

  “This is a travesty.” She pulled a book from the shelf and handed it to Maddie. “Matilda is where you must start. You’ll love it; when you’re finished, I want to hear all about it.” Her finger ran further along the shelf and she stopped at The BFG. “And for you, Caradoc, a story of truly epic proportions.”

  “I don’t have time to read.”

  She scowled at him with impatience. “I don’t have time to read,” she mocked, imitating his deep voice and American accent. Her smile then, was teasing. “Read it.” She stepped closer, and lowered her voice, so that only he could hear it. “For me.”

  His eyes widened at the added incentive, and he felt a charge of desire. “Fine. For you.” He took the book and held its weight in his hands.

  “What about you, Seraphina?” Maddie asked, standing at her side.

  “Oh,” Finn nodded towards the arm chairs. “I’ve already made my choice.”

  “What is it?” Caradoc couldn’t help but be interested.

  “War and Peace,” she said with another nod towards the book. It was about seven times the thickness of the novel she’d chosen for him. “Tolstoy is one of those writers you either love or hate. For me, personally, I love him. Always have. His maudlin observations are wordy and at times redundant, but they touch something in me.” She shrugged awkwardly.

  “I didn’t know you like to read so much.”

  “That’s why she became a chauffeur,” Maddie said with all the self-importance of youth. “So that she would have time to read.”

  “Is it indeed?” He murmured appreciatively. “And here I thought it was because she could change a tyre in five minutes flat.”

  “Five minutes,” Finn scoffed jokingly. “I could have done it in two if you hadn’t been distracting me.”

  His eyes shone as they studied her face. “Madison, it’s time for you to go see your mother.”

  “Yes, sir,” she saluted with mock deference, earning a flicker of amusement from Finn.

  “Don’t forget, Seraphina,” Madison said earnestly from the door, “that you are going to show me how you can beat up Dougal tomorrow.”

  Finn grinned. “It’s a date.”

  They watched the young girl move from the room, and though they didn’t know it, it was the happiest she’d been in days. For glimpses of time there, Maddie had been much like her old self.

  But Maddie left, and Finn and Caradoc were alone; and all the air of conviviality and relaxation seemed to disappear immediately.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Finn had left her hair loose after her shower and it fell down her back, in lustrous waves, right to the curve of her buttock. It was as long and beautiful as he’d hoped.

  Her face was scrubbed of makeup, not that she’d worn much anyway, and he lifted a hand to her chin, to hold her face still while he studied it.

  Finn knew she should step backwards. He had no reason to touch her. No right to! But she stayed where she was, her eyes mossy pools drowning in his nearness.

  “Who is Dougal?” The question surprised her, and a smile tickled her lips.

  “Your father’s driver,” she murmured, her tongue heavy in her throat.

  “Why are you going to beat up an elderly chauffeur?”

  “Elderly? Dougal’s not elderly. He wouldn’t be much older than I am.”

  “I see,” he said huskily. His finger strayed from her chin to pad across her lips. Finn shivered. Why was she staying there, letting him touch her as though they were something more than two people who’d known one another a matter of hours. “And why are you going to try kicking his ass?”

  “I wasn’t going to try,” she promised thickly. “I was going to use him
for a demonstration.”

  “Of?” He prompted, inching his body closer so that finally he felt his hard planes against her slim curves.

  “Your sister seems to find it hard to believe that a woman like me could possibly defend herself against a man.”

  “You must admit,” he said, lifting his other hand to the small of her back so that he could clamp her against his body. His pulse leaped at her nearness. “You don’t look like you could blow out a birthday candle so much as a house.”

  “Don’t I?” And if he’d known her better, he might have seen the glint in her eye as a warning.

  “No.” He was unprepared for what came next. Finn lifted her fingers and curled them around his wrist and at the same time, she twisted her foot behind his ankle. She jerked him forward while simultaneously twisting his wrist backwards. His spectacular eyes widened with surprise but not for long. He crashed to the ground, but he pulled her with him, so that she landed against his chest.

  “Are you subduing me?” He wondered aloud. “Because, I’ve gotta tell you, Finn, it feels a lot like you’re exciting me instead.”

  Her cheeks flushed. “I could subdue you,” she promised. But it would mean moving, and they both understood that she didn’t want to. Their bodies were melded together, his hard against the ancient floors and hers light as a feather but firmly planted to his chest.

  Her sweater was tight. It showed off her slim waist and curvaceous breasts. He placed his hands on her sides and slid his fingers beneath the fabric. Finn’s eyes were wide as saucers. She sucked in a breath. Her body seemed to quiver where he touched and goose bumps broke out across her soft skin. Her insides were leaping with adrenalin and unmistakable desire.

  But Finn didn’t want to feel such an overwhelming sense of need. And certainly not for this man. He was her client, and she was a professional.

  She scrambled to her feet, stepping hastily away from him. Her body silently groaned its complaint. She was cold instantly where seconds ago she’d been lighting up with flames.

  Frustration gnawed at his gut. “What is it?” He asked softly. Gently, gently.

  “That can’t happen,” she said, so quickly that her words tripped all over themselves.

  “Can’t it?” He wondered, pulling to standing with an economy of movement that spoke of a fitness she couldn’t help but admire.

  “No!” A frantic word of absolute despair. “Look, sir…”

  “Caradoc,” he interrupted, his smile rich with sexy indolence.

  “Sir,” she repeated, her word quivering with the force of her emotions. “I’m not interested in … being … umm … I don’t know why you’re acting as though … as though …” she made a strangled sound of frustration. “You booked a driver. I’m your driver. I’m not interested in being anything else.”

  He felt a hint of amusement but he ignored it. Couldn’t she see how much of a lie that was? “You feel exactly as I do. Do you want to hear how I know?”

  Fuck ‘gently, gently’. Caradoc had made his name by reading people, and he knew now that the beautiful, fascinating Seraphina James was balanced on a precipice. One push in either direction would carry her away. And he was going to make sure she fell down on his side. Or preferably, just on him.

  He closed the gap between them, and was pleased when her eyes found his. Nervous, yes, but also silently pleading.

  “Your pupils are twice their normal size. Your skin is flushed.” He ran his thumb over her lower lip, his eyes following its slow, seductive progress. “Your breathing is shallow, like you can’t possibly get enough air into your body.” He ran his finger lower, so that he could bunch her hair in his fist to clear it away from her neck. He leaned forward, and pressed his mouth to the pulse point at the base of her throat.

  His own body jerked at the feeling of her warm skin against his mouth. As his tongue traced a circle and tasted her sweetness, she shivered and he went as hard as steel. Patience, he told himself, pulling his mouth away with stifling reluctance. “Your pulse is racing like a bird in full flight.” He lifted a hand to her chest, his eyes studying hers. “Your heart is like a race car, speeding and out-of-control.” He let his hand drop lower, to the hem of her sweater.

  His eyes on hers were daring her to stop him. Mocking her earlier statement that she didn’t want this. But he had no time for a victory lap. Not when his fingers were inching higher, against the flesh of her flat stomach, until they cupped the underside of her breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra. His erection strained painfully against the fabric of his boxers.

  “Your nipples,” he said darkly, running his fingers over their pert firmness, “are telling me that you do want this.”

  Finn was lost. Her knees were shaking and her body seemed heavy and weak. She couldn’t help the way her fingers lifted and curled in his shirt. She needed him for strength.

  “And if I touched you here,” he ground his arousal against her feminine core until she gasped. “You would be wet and hot.”

  What the hell was happening? His words, his voice, his accent – him. She was being pulled under the ocean by the current of desire he was generating.

  “But …” She said, her brain barely able to focus in the face of how his body was making hers react.

  “But nothing,” his smile made her stomach flip flop. “You are thinking too much.”

  “I’m not thinking anywhere near enough,” she contradicted with a groan.

  Caradoc needed to do more than just tease. He needed to show her.

  His kiss wasn’t gentle. His kiss was insistent. Passionate and hungry, it set her body spiralling out of control. She was hot and cold all at once, and she might have sagged to the ground were it not for his arms, wrapped around her, keeping her glued against his chest.

  She moaned into his mouth and felt him smile, but he didn’t ease the kiss. His tongue clashed with hers; it was an invasion of her, utterly and completely. But she was oh so willing to be invaded.

  Her hips, of their own accord, pushed against him, silently begging him to give her what she needed most. The indulgence of this desire was something Caradoc alone could answer.

  He was lifting her off the ground as though she weighed nothing, pulling her with him towards the chairs she’d been in earlier. War and Peace was forgotten; it scattered to the ground with a heavy thud that neither of them heard.

  She was overtaken by a vixen. An inner-temptress, perhaps her own sensual angel, who was demanding things of him that Finn hadn’t even known possible. Her fingertips pushed at his chest until he went back willingly into one of the leather wingback chairs. She followed him, straddling him and kissing him as though possessed. Her fingers were pulling at his shirt, desperate to get purchase on his skin.

  His laugh added fuel to her flames. “Well, well. There you are,” he murmured against her mouth, unbuttoning her jeans with ease and pushing them down her legs. She had to wriggle in his lap so that he could remove them completely, but she wasn’t willing to stand up. Not to break the contact that was somehow making her feel more alive than ever before.

  She swore as his fingers curled into the fabric of her underwear. She was so wet; he had been totally right about that.

  It wasn’t like she hadn’t slept with men before. She’d had boyfriends. Lovers. Not many, it was true. But enough to have considered herself reasonably experienced.

  But nothing had been like this. She was mindless with desire.

  She swore again and now he laughed.

  “What do you want?” He growled huskily against her cheek, his fingers hovering at her entrance, but frustratingly far. “Tell me,” he invited.

  But Finn was beyond rational thought and word. Her fingers were clumsy as she pulled at his pants, separating the zip and then pushing at his boxers until he was freed.

  “This,” she was able to manage, and she would have taken him deep inside of her if he hadn’t stopped her. His eyes were darkened by desire and his own heart was hammering in his chest.
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  “Protection,” he said the word like it was an indictment. He couldn’t believe he didn’t have anything with him. Then again, he hadn’t come to the library expecting to find Finn. He hadn’t come here to seduce her.

  “Tell me you have something,” she cried plaintively, her desperation enough of an aphrodisiac to almost make him forget his own cardinal rules. Caradoc Moore loved sex. Risk-free sex.

  “In my room,” he murmured against her neck. He felt her sag against him and he understood. She had been in a fever-pitch of need. And somehow he just understood that it was new for her. Daunting.

  Slowly, he rearranged his boxers and pants, so that temptation was out of his reach, but he kept his fingers around her wrist.

  When he pushed two fingers into her moist core, she let out a groan as though her world was ending. Or beginning. She tilted her beautiful face back, and began to move her hips, up and down, as though it was his cock inside of her. He felt her muscles tighten and he mentally berated his own stupidity. With this woman in his house, from that moment on, he would always be prepared.

  “Caradoc!” He loved the way she said his name; with her accent so British and her desire so obvious.

  He pushed at her shirt so that he could take one of her nipples in his mouth. She dug her nails into his shoulders until his flesh screamed but it made him want her more. She was fire and flame. However she might try to pretend otherwise, this woman was a tangle of lust. And he would enjoy using that lust whenever he wanted.

  Yes, Finn James would distract him nicely, for just as long as he needed it.

  Her breasts were the perfect size. Full and round, and large enough to test even his hand size. Or mouth, he thought with an appreciative smile.

  She swore, and he knew she couldn’t have realised how loud she was being. That made him smile too. Let her scream out his name. He didn’t give a shit if she woke the whole staff up.

  He wanted her to tip over the edge. He wanted her to be crazy with release.

  He began to swirl his fingers slowly, and then faster, and he felt the moment she stilled and then collapsed. Her body shuddered with the force of sensations. Her mouth sought his as she trembled with her orgasm.

 

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