‘Virgin?’
Destiny nodded, blushing at the bluntness of the word, now that it was out in the open. Never in a million years would she have imagined that her own lack of experience would have left her feeling so vulnerable. She could stop right now; she knew that. Call a halt and walk right back down those stairs. But she also knew that she wouldn’t. This was right.
‘I have never felt so honoured in my life,’ he said huskily, which brought an unsteady smile to her lips. ‘Come with me.’ He led her into the massive en suite bathroom and then sat her down in a wicker chair by the window.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m going to relax you.’
She watched as he began running a bath, testing the temperature every so often with his fingers, adding bubble bath that smelt of cinnamon. The bath was grand enough to suit the dimensions of the bathroom. It was a Victorian masterpiece, with clawed feet. A large, masculine bath that blended well with the forest-green and white tiles surrounding it. She could easily imagine him lying in it, long, indolent, one arm draped lazily over the side, eyes closed. And, of course, naked.
The thought made her pulses begin to race once more.
What, she thought a little hysterically, did one do with a man’s naked body? Would he be as big and awesome down there as his build suggested? She was so lacking in experience that she doubted she would know what to touch. The idea made her feel faint and she closed her eyes briefly.
‘Not dozing off, are you?’
Her eyes flew open to find him standing above her, smiling.
‘No,’ she squeaked, gripping the arms of the wicker chair.
‘Stand up.’
Destiny obeyed. Without saying so, she knew that he was well aware of the battle raging between her fear at stepping into the unknown and her excitement at the prospect, and he was taking control. She also knew that she could trust him implicitly.
‘Now, my darling, just you stand there…’ He gently kissed her eyes and stroked her eyebrows with his thumbs.
If only she knew what agony it was, he thought to himself. If only she knew that he was damned nervous himself, though not of the physical act, as she was. Understandably. No, he just wanted to touch her everywhere and in every way that would be right for her, make her the recipient of his glorious passion and feel that body of hers respond to his the way he knew she would. There was something touchingly childlike about this tall woman who could tackle anything life threw at her but this.
He rolled his fingers along her collarbone and very slowly began to undo the long zipper at the back of her dress, feeling her quick, shallow breathing under his hands. It slipped to the ground and pooled around her ankles. God, he was trembling almost as much as she was! He moved to unclasp her bra from the front.
Her breasts spilled out in all their bounty.
He could feel urgency and hunger hit his loins with gut-wrenching force and he forced himself to breathe deeply and evenly. Given his way, he would ravish her right here and now, on the bathroom floor, and, God, he probably wouldn’t even have time to strip himself of all his clothes, but she was like a thoroughbred filly that needed to be treated with the utmost care.
The bra was tossed onto the black ash linen basket. Her head was thrown back and her rapid breathing made her chest fall and rise. Her nipples were large and erect, waiting to be touched. And touched they would be, but not yet. He would wait for her to come to him.
The bathroom light was on a dimmer switch, and he had dimmed it so that no harsh light invaded the room. Instead, gentle shadows washed over them with every small movement.
Her body was perfectly toned. Of course, he knew that—had fantasised about it for the nightmarishly long week that had stretched between them since he had last seen her—but, still, seeing her standing in front of him made him feel winded. Naked, with her large breasts resting against her ribcage, the slender waist, beneath which dipped the elastic band of her underwear.
He knelt in front of her and it momentarily flashed through his head that in every respect she had brought him to his knees. Then he curled one finger on either side of her briefs and peeled them down. This time he had to close his eyes and steady himself. Just for a second. Just long enough to get himself and his throbbing body back into some kind of control. He inhaled deeply, breathing in her womanhood, then ran his hands lightly up either side of her thighs, enjoying it as she shuddered beneath him.
‘Bath time,’ he murmured, standing up.
‘Already? Must I?’
‘It’ll relax you.’
‘I feel relaxed already,’ Destiny said, tentatively placing her hand on his cheek, then running it up through his dark hair.
‘You haven’t begun to relax yet,’ he promised softly, and she obediently climbed into the water, which was at a perfect temperature. Warm and so full of bubbles that her body was obscured by them.
He slipped round to the back of the bath and for a few minutes transported her to bliss as he kneaded the muscles at the back of her neck and along her shoulders.
The tips of her hair, hanging in the water, were damp and darker than the halo of blonde he breathed into, kissing the nape of her neck, then he moved and lathered his hands with soap.
This time he didn’t have to tell her what to do. She stood up, wet, with an expression of pleasure on her face. When he began sliding his soapy hands along her shoulders and arms, she smiled with the languid contentment of a cat.
The thought of running his hands over her breasts produced such feelings of exquisite anticipation in him that he almost wanted to delay the moment for as long as possible.
But they were waiting for him, like fruit waiting to be savoured, and savour them he did, massaging the soap over them, drawing the pouting nipples to throbbing hardness, while she moaned unsteadily. Then along the flat planes of her stomach, along her thighs and finally, with slow, rhythmic strokes, over the mound of her femininity. He felt it pulsate under the palm of his hand and ran a finger along the crease, finding the nub which he stroked until her moaning became faster and hoarser.
Rinsing off the soap was something she did in record time, and now his hunger was ripening into a steady throb. He dried her and led her into his bedroom and onto the king-sized bed with its tan and terracotta duvet and puffy pillows.
She felt a fleeting sense of wonder at what she was knowingly about to step into. The great big unknown. And then a twinge of alarm that for all her reasoning about enjoying this while it lasted, she was about to jump off a precipice and the fall might prove fatal.
It didn’t last long. She lay on the bed, naked and beyond the point of turning back, and watched him greedily as he removed his clothes.
The body she’d imagined was even more impressive than the vague picture she’d conjured up in her newly, irrepressibly fertile head.
Every inch of him was tautly muscled. His limbs were aggressively long and athletic. He watched her watching him and smiled lazily, enjoying her obvious pleasure afforded by the view.
‘Let’s take our time,’ he murmured, when he was lying on his side next to her, their faces almost touching. ‘The best things in life need to be savoured for the longest possible time.’ He kissed her gently, delicately almost, his tongue licking the contours of her mouth then invading it with supreme thoroughness. Destiny, already on the brink, cradled his head with her hands, then arched back to enjoy the slow path of his mouth as it nibbled and licked her shoulders, finally reaching her aching breasts.
He levered his powerful body over hers, supporting himself with his arms, and devoted all his attention to her full breasts, stroking them with his tongue, sucking the nipples into his mouth, arousing her until she wanted to cry out for satisfaction.
When his head moved inexorably down, so that his exploration of her body could be complete, she thought that she might faint with the intense pleasure of it.
He parted her willing thighs, then after a few teasing nuzzles into the soft down of her
hair, he buried his face against her and she gave a little cry of ecstasy as his tongue found its spot and pressed on it in small flicking motions.
Her body seemed to be moving of its own accord. How could she ever have worried that she wouldn’t know what to do? She raised her hips and curled her fingers into his hair, pushing him down against her, writhing to accommodate his mouth. With wanton lack of inhibition, she rolled the palms of her hands over her nipples, stimulating them, while the lower half of her body continued to do its amazing, erotic dance.
He wasn’t about to give her the isolated satisfaction of an orgasm now, though. He could feel mounting need, but before it crested he pulled away, and replaced his mouth with his own fullness, inserting himself gently; after a moment of rigidity, she bucked frantically against him, taking him in and panting as they both came to a shuddering climax.
There was no embarrassment when he eased himself off her and lay next to her, propping himself up on his elbows so that he could inspect her flushed, satisfied face.
Destiny had never felt so free in her life before. Some measure of reason was beginning to set in, but she felt no regrets. Just complete and utter joy that her first act of lovemaking had been with the man she loved. Never mind that he wasn’t aware of the fact and never would be. In her own head, and in her heart, she’d not betrayed herself.
‘That was…’ she said drowsily, searching for just the right word, ‘…exquisite.’
‘Ditto…’ He kissed the tip of her nose.
‘Don’t fib,’ she chastised teasingly. ‘I didn’t do anything…’
‘How can you say that? The proof of what you did was right in front of your eyes! Not to mention in other parts as well…’ He gave a slow, sexy chuckle. ‘And, in a very short while, there’ll be more ample proof of what you do to me clamouring for a bit more of the same…’
‘Will there?’ Her green eyes widening innocently. ‘Or are you just saying that to make me feel good…?’
‘Of course, I do want you to feel good—’ he stroked her legs then dipped his fingers to slide gracefully over her wetness ‘—and I think I’ve succeeded…but I think my little beauty needs a rest before…we rediscover each other’s bodies…’
‘Never mind a rest…I could do with a shower. Would it be all right if I had one?’
‘Only if it would be all right if I joined you…’
Later, fresh after a shower which had taken much longer than any of the showers she’d ever had on the compound, due to a mutual lack of conviction that getting out was the object of the exercise, they found themselves back in the kitchen and confronting the forgotten pile of unwashed dishes.
With a bit of imagination, Destiny found that she could create her own little bubble, in which this wonderful domesticity, alongside the man she loved, would be long-lasting. He washed the dishes while she dried them, and their conversation was lazy, relaxed, teasing and utterly unlike what she would have imagined having with this man only weeks previously.
Whoever said that love needed time to flourish? And with all the right environmental conditions? It was more like a weed, capable of sprouting forth in the most hostile of places and, once sprouted, of growing with rapid and tenacious speed.
‘I guess I’d better be getting back home,’ she said reluctantly, when all the dishes were dried. She neatly placed the cloth over the rail of the Aga and felt him move up behind her until his hands were on her waist and his chin nestled against the crook of her shoulder.
‘Why?’
‘Why what? Why should I leave?’
‘Why should you leave?’ he murmured provocatively. ‘When there’s so much left for us to do…? Bit difficult to make love when we’re miles apart, isn’t it? And I’ve never been much of a fan of telephone sex… Always seemed like a recipe for frustration to me, although it has to be said that getting dirty down the end of line might have a few attractions…’ He slipped his hand underneath the shirt she had borrowed from him and cupped one of her breasts, jiggling it so that it bounced gently against his palm. ‘I love your nipples. They’re so…’ He nibbled her earlobe, sending little shivers of delight racing down her spine, and she leant languorously back against him.
‘Big. Everything about me is big,’ she said with a little laugh.
‘And does that bother you?’
‘Not really.’ She shrugged and thought about it. ‘Sometimes I used to feel a bit awkward at having to talk down to all the other women on the compound, but on the whole it’s been to my advantage. If you can call it an advantage to be opted for all the more physical jobs that require a bit of strength.’ Now his hands caressed both her breasts, pausing only to rub thumbs over the peaks of her nipples now and again. She felt a familiar stirring down below. The kind of stirring that turned her brain to cotton wool.
‘You mean the bespectacled Henri didn’t rush to your immediate aid?’
‘Doesn’t work that way out there, I’m afraid. Women need to be able to do their job usefully and not rely on a man to pull them out of uncomfortable conditions.’
He paused in what he was doing. ‘Was your mother as capable as you?’
‘If not more.’ She sighed. ‘My father said that he loved her from the very first moment he set eyes on her.’
‘Where did they meet? At a dance? Dinner party?’
‘Oh, she was stitching up a young boy whose head had been busted open by a cricket ball.’
‘Ah. Unusual circumstances for love at first sight.’
‘I guess their eyes met over the needle and nylon.’ She giggled.
‘So what are you going to do? Stay or stay?’
‘Stay?’
‘Right choice…’
Was it, though?
She had no idea what time they had finally drifted to sleep. She only knew that she was considerably more experienced in the ways of pleasuring a man than she had been at the start of the evening. And when she wakened several hours later, with needles of light filtering through the curtains, it took her several seconds to remember where she was. Then her eyes flew open to find herself alone on the bed with a mass of crumpled sheets around her.
With the cold light of day came the cold light of reality. Her fragile reasons for sleeping with Callum Ross now seemed ludicrous and naïve. Seductive words and dim lighting, and the overwhelming recognition of her own feelings for him, had worked in devilish ways to banish her reserve, and the prospect of a headlong collision with planet Earth now seemed something that couldn’t be reasoned away into non-existence.
What could she have been thinking of?
Had she imagined that she could enjoy the fruition of her love for one night—or maybe one week or even one month, until she left the country—and then take off with her heart and soul intact? What was the remainder of her life going to be now? Back in Panama, with only her memories for bitter company?
She groaned silently to herself, wondering if there was any reasonable chance that she could sneak out of the house without being caught. Perhaps shinny out of the window or something.
She tried to picture someone of her stature shinnying and ran up against a mental block. Shinny down and break her back by crashing thunderously onto the ground in the process would be more like it.
The thing that really scared her was the suspicion that, whatever qualms were now dawning on the horizon, she would still forfeit reason for the pleasure of being with him, and she knew that the more snatched moments of happiness she stole now, the greater would be her eventual prison sentence.
The thoughts were still churning over in her mind when the object of them returned to the bedroom, wearing a white bathrobe underneath which was nothing but his bare body, as she could see every time it swung apart in rhythm with his tread.
‘Breakfast,’ he said, raising the tray in both hands slightly and grinning. ‘Full English.’ He deposited the tray on the bed, relieved himself of his bathrobe with an enviable lack of self-consciousness, then slid next to her.
/> On the tray was a plate heaped with bacon, sausages, toast and scrambled egg, two cups of coffee and two plates with the required cutlery stacked on top of them.
Her onslaught of misgivings evaporated at the sight of him, as she had known it would.
‘Tuck in,’ he said, heaping a bit of everything on a plate and sliding a spare tray from underneath onto her lap.
‘Don’t tell me. You’re an expert at entertaining women in your bed in the morning.’
‘On the contrary. Don’t forget, Steph and I were together for two years and I’m a one-woman man.’
‘Did you ever love her?’ She took a sip of the coffee and waited for his answer.
Love her? Callum almost laughed. Love was anything but the placid affection he had felt for his former fiancée. Love, as he could now testify, was something that took over every pore of your body and left a strong man hesitant and exposed.
‘We had fun for a while,’ he said slowly, wishing that she was opposite him so that he could read the expression on her face. Her voice implied nothing but a casual interest. ‘And I was very fond of her. I still am.’
Just like you’re having fun with me for a while? she wanted to ask. Instead, she chickened out of the sickening prospect of putting him in a spot. She wondered whether that would be his future dismissal of her when he was lying on the same bed, bringing breakfast up for another woman.
She ate some of her breakfast in silence, then manoeuvred the tray onto the low oak chest of drawers next to her side of the bed.
‘That was good,’ she said. ‘Thank you very much. The last time I had food delivered to me on a tray in my room was years ago, when I was ill, and my father waited on me hand and foot for a few days. I remember thinking at the time how nice it was not to have to fetch and carry for other people.’
She lay back against the pillow and stared up at the ceiling, feeling the bed shift as he disposed of his own tray then turned on his side to her.
‘You’re quite something, Destiny Felt, do you know that?’ He pulled the sheet a few inches down so that her breasts were exposed, but he didn’t touch her, contenting himself with looking, until his looks were as heady as his touch would have been.
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