by Penny Jordan
She made a small helpless sound of denial and need, and then she gave in. His mouth moved urgently on hers and her lips parted eagerly, greedily for its possession, her nails digging into the hard muscles of his arms as her need roared through her.
It was last night all over again—only this time they were impeded by two sets of clothes. She had changed back into her own things before supervising the clearing up after the party. Now she was being driven wild by her longing to be as naked and open to him now as she had been the previous evening.
Her fingers clenched spasmodically on his arm, her body gripped by savage shudders of dark pleasure.
She wanted his hands on her breasts, on all of her—his fingers finding her, touching her as they had done last night. Just wanting him to touch her in that way made her go hot and limp with the desire she could feel pulsing inside her. She wanted him there…there—deep, deep inside her, thrusting hard and fast against the possessive hold of her muscles, taking her, satisfying her quickly and mercilessly.
She could feel the open heat of his mouth against her throat as he tipped her back over his arm, moonlight gleaming whitely on her skin as he tugged off her top to reveal her breast, darkly crowned in the night light.
His thumb-tip rubbed against the deep dark pink of her nipple and she cried out—a sharp, agonised sound of primitive female mating hunger.
She wanted him to take her now, here. As quickly and completely, as fiercely and thoroughly as a panting she-creature on heat. She wanted him to fill her, flood her with his own release, and to go on doing so until she was sated and complete.
She reached for the hardness she knew was waiting for her, running her fingers over and over the jutting ridge of his erection, quivering with anticipation. The head would be swollen and hot, the body thick and darkly veined, the flesh tightly drawn over the hard muscle, but still fluid and slick when she touched it.
In her imagination she could already feel the first rub of that engorged head between the lips of her sex, and then against the sensitive pleasure-pulse of her clitoris over and over again, faster and faster, until she was wet and hot with her pleasure. Until she could endure no more and Ricardo finally plunged deep inside her.
As though she had cried her desire out loud to him, she felt Ricardo tugging at her clothes, his hands hard and firm against her naked skin. His mouth found her nipple and drew fiercely on it. She cried out again in a mewling sound of intense arousal.
His mouth returned to hers. She felt as though she had been starving for it, for him, as though she had been waiting all their life to be with him. She felt…
Immediately she tensed, pushing him away, her voice tight with rejection and self-loathing as she told him fiercely, ‘I don’t want this.’
‘Yes, you do. You want this and you want me, and you can’t deny it!’ Ricardo challenged her whilst he fought to control his breathing. And to rationalise what had happened—if he could rationalise it. It was something he had had no intention of allowing to happen at all. But from the moment he had touched her he had been out of control, unable to stop what was happening to him.
Carly drew in a deep, shaky breath.
‘We mustn’t.’
‘We must not what?’ Ricardo demanded. ‘We must not want one another?’
Carly turned her head away from him and shook it in bewilderment. ‘This can’t happen again,’ she told him quickly.
Baffled and frustrated, Ricardo reluctantly let her go. She wanted him, and he certainly damned well wanted her, so why was she behaving like this? One thing he did know was that he was determined that he would have her, sooner or later—and he would prefer it to be sooner.
Thank heavens Ricardo hadn’t followed her to her room. Because if he had she knew that she would not have been able to resist him. And she had to resist him, because she wanted him far more than it was safe for her to do.
Why, though, did she feel like this about him? Why did she want him when she had never wanted any of the other men she had met?
Was it because subconsciously she knew he was different from them? Because the most intimate part of her recognised that, at some primal level, she felt a deep-rooted kinship with him?
Because, like him, she too had known and suffered childhood poverty and the withdrawal, the denial of the love and nurturing, the protection every child should be given as of right?
The wretched squalor and unhappiness of her own early childhood had marked her for ever, as she knew his must have marked him.
Not even Julia and Lucy, who thought they knew everything about her, knew the full truth of the beginning of her life—how she had been found dressed in rags, abandoned in the street beside some rubbish, her pitiful cries alerting a loitering tramp to her existence.
She had been a piece of unwanted humanity, left there to die. Unwanted and unloved, even by her own birth mother. No wonder, then, that her adopted mother had never been able to love her either.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘YOU mentioned last night that you didn’t have any money in your bank account because you’d had to help your parents?’
Carly almost dropped the glass of water she had been drinking. A little unsteadily, she put it down. They had boarded Ricardo’s jet several hours later than Ricardo had originally planned, although he had not give her any reason for the delay, and would soon be landing at JFK airport for their onward journey to the Hamptons.
She looked out of the window, telling herself that it was pointless now to berate herself for letting anger lead her into admitting that she had needed to help them.
‘I…I shouldn’t have said that,’ she admitted uncomfortably. ‘And I wouldn’t have done if you hadn’t made me so angry.’
‘I misjudged you, and I’ve apologised for that. A man in my position becomes very cynical about other people’s motives. Why did you have to give your parents money? Are you an only child?’
‘I…I had a sister…’
Her mouth had gone dry, and she wanted desperately to bring their conversation to an end.
‘Had?’ Ricardo questioned, as she had known he would.
‘Yes. She…Fenella died a…a few months ago,’ she told him reluctantly.
Ricardo could almost feel her resistance to his questions as he registered her words and felt the shock of them, plus his own shock that she should be so composed.
‘I’m sorry. That must have been dreadful for you.’
Carly looked at him.
‘Fenella and I weren’t really related. I…her parents adopted me when I was very young. They adored her, and they were naturally devastated by her death,’ she told him in a guarded voice.
‘But you weren’t?’ Ricardo guessed.
‘We were very different. Fenella naturally was always the favoured child. Adoption doesn’t always work out the way people hope it will.’
Carly looked away from him. It was obvious that she was withholding something from him, withdrawing herself from him, in fact—as though she didn’t want to let him into the personal side of her life. To his own astonishment he discovered that he didn’t like the fact that she was reluctant to talk openly about herself to him. What was it about her that caused him to have this compulsion to learn more? And was it more, or was it everything there was to learn?
His curiosity was merely that of a potential employer, he assured himself.
‘What do you mean, adoption doesn’t always work? Didn’t it work for you? Weren’t you happy with your adoptive parents?’
‘Why are you asking me so many questions?’
Ricardo could almost feel her anxiety and panic.
‘Perhaps because I want to know more about you.’
On the face of it he already knew all he needed to know. But it was what was beneath the surface that was arousing his curiosity. She was concealing something from him, something that changed her from a self-confident woman into someone who was far more vulnerable—and also very determined to deny that vulnerability. He
had a fiercely honed instinct about such things, and he knew he wasn’t wrong. So what was it? He intended to find out. But what would it take to break down her barriers?
He looked at her and watched in satisfaction as, under his deliberate scrutiny, the colour seeped up under her skin.
‘You haven’t answered my question,’ he reminded her.
‘No, I wasn’t happy.’ The terseness in her voice warned him that she didn’t like his probing.
‘What about your natural parents?’
Ricardo could see immediately that his question had had a very dramatic effect on her. Her face lost its colour and he could hear her audibly indrawn breath. He expected her to refuse to answer, but instead she spoke fiercely.
‘My mother was probably a drug addict, who died in a house fire along with two other young women. No one knew who my father might have been. I was left to die amongst the rubbish outside a hospital. A tramp found me. I was only a few weeks old. I was ten years old and in foster care when Fenella’s parents decided they wanted to adopt a sister for her, because they were concerned that she might be lonely.’
Ricardo was frowning.
‘They adopted you for their daughter?’
‘Yes. I imagine they felt I’d be easier to house-train than a puppy and less expensive to keep than a pony,’ Carly told him lightly. ‘Unfortunately, though, it didn’t work out. Fenella, quite naturally, hated having to share her parents and her toys with an unwanted sibling, and demanded that her parents send me back. I think they wanted to, but of course it was too late. I wasn’t allowed to touch anything of Fenella’s, or even to eat in the same room with her at first. But then we were both sent to boarding school. That’s when I met Jules and Lucy. Somehow or other my…my history, and the fact that I wasn’t really Fenella’s sister, became public knowledge.’
‘You mean she told everyone?’ Ricardo asked bluntly.
‘She was a year older than me, so she’d already made her own circle of friends at the school before I went there. She was a very popular girl—she could be charming when she wanted to be—and I very quickly became ostracised.’
‘You were bullied, you mean?’
‘I was different and I didn’t fit in,’ Carly continued without answering him. ‘But luckily for me, Jules and Lucy came to my rescue and gave me their friendship. Without that and them…’ The shadows in her eyes caused Ricardo to experience a sudden fierce surge of protectiveness towards her, and anger towards those who had so obviously tormented her.
‘What happened to Fenella?’
Carly shook her head. It disturbed her to realise how much she had told him about herself.
She wasn’t going to tell him any more, Ricardo recognised, as he watched her turn away from him to focus on her laptop.
Carly frowned as she tried to study the figures on the company’s bank statements on her screen. Answering Ricardo’s questions had brought back so many painful memories.
She had truly believed when she had been adopted that she was going to be loved by her new parents and sister, and she had given them her own love unstintingly. It had confused her at first when she had been rebuffed, but then she had seen her adoptive mother hugging Fenella, fussing over her, and she had begun to realise that there was a huge difference between the way Fenella was given her parents’ love and approval, and the way she was refused it.
She had tried to make herself as like Fenella as possible, mirroring the other girl’s behaviour as closely as she could, assuming that this would gain her adoptive parents’ approval. Instead it had simply made Fenella hate her even more. Now, as an adult, she could not entirely blame them. Fenella had been their child, after all. But her experience with her adoptive parents had taught her the danger of giving her love to anyone.
The figures in front of her blurred, and she had to blink fiercely in order to be able to concentrate on them.
Suddenly, when she saw them properly, she frowned, firmly putting her own problems to one side as she stared in shocked anxiety at the unfamiliarly large cheques that had gone through the account, almost completely emptying it of cash.
It was unthinkable that this should have happened. She prided herself on keeping a mental running total of what was going in and out of the account, and according to her own mental reckoning they should have been several hundred thousand pounds in credit. In fact, they needed to be several hundred thousand pounds in credit to meet the bills their suppliers would be presenting at the end of the month, and to leave sufficient working capital to carry them until they received payment from other clients.
So what were these cheques for? She couldn’t remember signing them. A cold trickle of anxiety mixed with instinct iced down her spine. Her heart started to beat uncomfortably heavily. She needed to see those cheques.
Carly had quickly become totally engrossed in her work. Too quickly, Ricardo thought. Did she use it to block out emotional issues she found it difficult to handle? She had not said so, but he imagined that she must have suffered severe emotional trauma during her childhood.
That he should even have such a concern, never mind actively feel protective of her because of it, was such alien emotional territory to him that it took several seconds to recognise his own danger. Once he had done so he reminded himself firmly that that had been then and this was now, and now he wanted her in his bed.
Carly ordered photocopies of the cheques. Until they came she wouldn’t be able to do anything else.
‘Carly!’
She acknowledged Ricardo with a wary look.
‘I hope you ached as much for me last night as I did for you.’
She could feel her face starting to burn.
‘I’d really rather not talk about it. I’ve already said that I don’t want to…to go there.’
Her voice was calm, but he could see that her hand was trembling.
He gave a small shrug.
‘Why not? Why should we deny ourselves something it’s obvious we both want? Sexually there’s a chemistry between us that maybe neither of us would have wanted, given free choice, but I don’t see any point in trying to pretend that it doesn’t exist. And, given that it does exist, perhaps it would be better for both of us if we enjoyed it instead of trying to ignore or reject it. That way at least we could get our sexual hunger for one another out of our systems.’
Our sexual hunger. Three simple words. But they had the power to change her life for ever. Had Adam felt what she was feeling now when Eve had handed him the apple and announced, ‘Here, take a bite?’ Had he thought then, just as she was thinking now, of all that he would be denying himself if he refused? If she had sex with Ricardo it wouldn’t change the world, but it would change her. Was she brave enough to accept that? Or would she rather spend the rest of her life wishing and wondering?
‘I don’t want to have an affair with you,’ she answered him. An affair would involve falling in love, putting herself in a situation where ultimately she would be rejected in favour of someone else. Every emotional experience she’d ever had had taught her that. In her foster homes, with her adoptive parents, and then at school. Even with her closest friends, Lucy and Jules, she was aware that they shared an extra special bond of birth and upbringing which excluded her.
‘But you do want to have sex with me,’ Ricardo guessed.
Her face was burning, but she managed to hold his gaze.
‘I…I think so.’
The look he gave her was pure male power.
‘Are you asking me to make the decision for you?’
‘What would be the point? I’m sure a man with your experience could find someone else who wouldn’t need to have a decision made for them.’
‘I’m sure I could,’ Ricardo agreed dryly. ‘However, they would not be you, and it is you I want. But, since we’re on the subject of relationships, how many relationships have there been for you?’
He had caught her unprepared, slipping the question under her guard.
‘Er�
��I don’t…I can’t really remember,’ she told him untruthfully. ‘And besides, it isn’t really any of your business, is it?’
‘It would be if we slept together,’ Ricardo told her.
How could she tell him the truth?
How could she say that he was different—special—that she had never felt the way she did about him with anyone else, and that that alone was enough to make her feel threatened and afraid? And if she couldn’t tell him that, then how could she tell him that she had never done with anyone else what she so much wanted to do with him?
‘What time do you think we will arrive at the Hamptons?’ she asked instead.
The look he gave her made her feel as though he had set a match to her will-power and it was curling up into nothing inside her.
‘We’ll be there in plenty of time. We’ll stay over in my New York apartment tonight and fly out tomorrow.’
‘Wouldn’t it make more sense to go straight there?’
‘Not really. You’re looking and sounding very agitated, Carly. Why?’
‘No reason. I mean, I’m not. Why should I be?’
‘Perhaps you don’t feel you can trust yourself to be alone with me?’ Ricardo suggested softly.
Carly had had enough.
‘It isn’t a matter of that! I just don’t think we should put ourselves in a position where—’
‘Where what? Where you might be tempted to offer yourself to me and I might accept? Is that what you mean?’
‘No! At least…’ That was exactly what she had meant, she admitted to herself. Only in her mental scenario it had been Ricardo offering himself to her, not the other way around.
Something about the way he had phrased his statement touched a raw nerve. ‘I don’t like what you’re implying,’ she told him frankly. ‘I appreciate that lots of women probably come on to you because…’
‘Because I’m very rich?’ he suggested smoothly, picking up her dropped sentence.
His voice might sound smooth, but beneath it he was angry, Carly recognised. He might not feel concerned about her sensitivities, but he obviously did not like her treading on his own!
