by Lynne Graham
Practicality rather than sentiment, Zac had reminded her lethally. A marriage of convenience for both of them, not a marriage based on love or the finer feelings, not even a marriage supposed to last for ever. Her tummy gave a nauseous twist. What had she done? What had she done?
She had reacted personally to what she had overheard in the corridor at the restaurant. She had reacted as if she were marrying for love and had behaved as though she had been betrayed. Deep down inside herself, she had been bitterly hurt by the idea of other women getting intimate with Zac, imagining them touching him and being touched by him. But was she entitled to such feelings?
On one score, Zac had been correct: they had broken up before the ball. Learning that he had had sex with someone else might upset her but he had not betrayed her and he had not broken any promises he made her. Soberly contemplating those facts filled Freddie with chagrin because she had faced Zac in a spirit of angry condemnation.
Yet they weren’t in love with each other or even lovers as yet. Practicality rather than sentiment, she reflected with an inner shiver of recoil, for, now that she was actually thinking about it, that struck her as a very chilly recipe for a relationship. No wonder Zac had accused her of not taking a realistic view of their marriage. She had reacted emotionally and gone way out of line, driven by her overwhelming need to express her anguished sense of rejection and hurt. But he had neither needed nor wanted such feelings thrown at him. He was not responsible for what she felt, she was.
‘I had a fight with Zac. The wedding’s off as we speak,’ she confessed chokily to Claire when she got home.
‘Family get-togethers can put people on edge,’ Claire remarked with a roll of her eyes. ‘Did someone say something that upset you?’
‘Something like that,’ Freddie mumbled.
‘Well, you’d better get round to the hotel and sort it out first thing tomorrow morning with him. If you give the kids breakfast, I’ll take over. You have to go for your dress fitting at noon anyway and Richard and I are organised to accompany Zac and the kids to the zoo,’ the brunette reminded her drily.
Claire crept into bed, listening to Jack’s little snuffles and Eloise’s slow peaceful breathing. How could she have forgotten even for a moment what her marrying Zac would mean for the children? Shame dug talon claws of guilt into her tender flesh. She hadn’t been willing to have sex with Zac. Was she to blame him for taking what some other woman offered after she had rejected him? Was she really that much of a hypocrite? And why, oh, why had she taken it all so personally when feelings weren’t supposed to come into their agreement? She closed her eyes and cringed and wondered if he’d make her grovel and whether she would grovel if he made it impossible to do otherwise. It was hardly surprising that she didn’t get a wink of sleep that night and was waiting with breakfast on the table before the children even got up.
When she walked into the hotel foyer that morning, Marco immediately approached her. ‘The boss expecting you?’ he asked.
‘Er...no,’ Freddie admitted.
‘He’s in a meeting right now. I’ll check.’ He spoke in his own language into his headpiece before returning to her side. ‘That’s fine, Miss Lassiter. Go on up,’ he told her, showing her into the lift and putting the card in the slot for her.
Freddie breathed in slow and deep to gather herself. A young woman she didn’t recognise opened the penthouse door and ushered her out onto the big balcony where Zac was clearly enjoying a working breakfast while checking over documents with a young dark-haired man. The woman hovered and then sat down beside the man. Zac was back in jeans and a shirt, black hair rippling back from his lean bronzed features, his big powerful body poised in a relaxed sprawl.
‘Freddie...meet my personal assistants, Abilio and Catina,’ Zac introduced, rising fluidly upright, his eyes a cool luminous pale blue as they always seemed to be in sunlight, roaming over Freddie’s stiff little figure with no expression that she could see. If he was surprised at her arrival, he gave no sign of it.
Zac betrayed not an ounce of the relief he’d experienced when he’d heard she was in the hotel. She had worked it all out for herself and he wasn’t surprised at that. The night before she had acted on impulse with a temper that was quick to rise but equally quick to subside. Practicality had triumphed. But what would he have done had she not come back? Would he have chased after her? No, he was done with that, he decided decisively. She had to marry him of her own free will, knowing and accepting the limitations of such a marriage. Nothing else would work. But the shadows beneath her eyes, the evidence of a sleepless night troubled him all the same. He was finally beginning to appreciate that nothing about getting married and living with another person was as simple as he wanted to make it.
Freddie shook hands with his companions and then Zac headed indoors, long lithe legs moving at a fast pace. ‘We’ll take this into the bedroom because we don’t want to be interrupted and Abilio and Catina are about to leave.’
‘I didn’t know you had staff,’ Freddie remarked, keen to fill the smouldering silence.
‘I may not be running the family empire but I’ve made a lot of investments on my own behalf with the income,’ Zac admitted, lounging back against the solid wooden dresser that sat between the twin windows.
Freddie looked everywhere but at him, her gaze wandering to the gargantuan bed where the sheets still remained tossed from his occupancy. With a flush she glanced hurriedly away. ‘Like this hotel?’
‘Exactly.’
Freddie shot him a tense troubled glance. ‘I’m here to apologise. I was upset last night. I wasn’t thinking things through. I still want to marry you.’
Zac jerked his chin in acknowledgement.
‘I was so angry I didn’t even think about the children and...what would happen if we split up,’ she framed awkwardly.
‘Everyone has a price and the children are yours,’ Zac drawled softly.
Freddie’s eyes flared gold. ‘Not everyone has a price!’ she snapped back at him, nerves taking over and forging past her self-control.
‘What else am I supposed to think when you’re evidently still prepared to marry an untrustworthy, unreliable womaniser?’ he derided silkily.
Put on the spot, Freddie reddened to the roots of her hair. ‘I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I haven’t found you unreliable or untrustworthy and what you chose to do while you were single is none of my business,’ she completed with dogged determination. ‘But you had better stay faithful to our marriage while I’m still trying to get pregnant because I will not share you!’
His lean, strong face darkening, Zac dealt her a brooding appraisal. ‘No problem,’ he conceded to that condition without argument, because he could not imagine getting bored with her any time soon.
But he did not appreciate that she had only come back because she was terrified of losing the chance to adopt Eloise and Jack. That struck him as ironic when he knew the adoption was the only reason she was marrying him and willing to have a child with him. But something deep and visceral inside him still rebelled against that ego-zapping knowledge.
He studied her slight figure, sheathed in leggings, ankle boots and a jazzy fitted tunic. Her breasts and her hips and a good part of her legs were hidden so he could not understand why just looking at her soft full mouth and caramel-brown eyes made him so aroused. He wondered how long it would take for him to work out the secret of her irresistible attraction, how long it would take for him to get jaded and start living for the day he would get his freedom back. He had never stayed with a woman longer than a week and even then only on the most casual basis. Now, he recognised, he was facing a steep learning curve.
Conscious of Zac’s scrutiny and his unsettling silence in the face of her retraction of her insults, Freddie grew increasingly tense, the tip of her tongue sliding out to moisten her dry lips as her breath shortened in her throat. ‘So, wher
e do we stand?’ she prompted anxiously.
Zac moved forward, seething energy and hunger powering him. Glittering eyes settled on her tense little face. ‘Where we started. Me wanting, you backing away...’
Her breath literally rattled in her throat because without even realising it she had taken a step back as he approached, and in dismay at that awareness she fell still where she stood.
‘That’s getting old, particularly the day before our wedding.’ Zac lifted a lean brown hand to trail a finger along the taut line of her delicate jaw. ‘What are you so scared of?’
‘I’m not scared,’ she told him tightly, but she knew she was lying. Her body was in a state of conflict, her adrenalin buzzing while little internal alarms shrilled inside her. She wanted him close and she wanted to push him away, because pushing men away came more naturally to her than touching one. Yet she longed to touch him, to unbutton the shirt stretched across his taut pectoral muscles and trace every rippling leashed line of him with her fingers. She wanted shameless things she had never wanted before and that unnerved her.
Yet the little tingles already ignited by his proximity warred with her alarm system. Her skin prickled, her breasts pushing against the restraint of her bra as her nipples tightened almost painfully. Her mouth ran dry, her breathing rupturing into little snatched spurts of air while her body struggled to combat the wave of heat rising from her pelvis.
‘There’s nothing to be afraid of,’ Zac husked, coiling an arm round her with lazy strength, bending her back to trail a hungry kiss across her delicate collarbone and up the slender column of her neck.
A tiny gasp escaped her, her reactions plunged into overdrive and intensified when he lifted her up against him and then brought her down on the tumbled bed. Eyes flying wide, she gazed up at him in disconcertion and got lost in the blazing magnificence of his crystalline eyes.
‘Trust me,’ Zac murmured softly, reaching down to flip off her boots and toss them on the floor. ‘But at least tell me why you’re so scared. Were you assaulted? Hurt?’
‘No...no.’ Freddie tried and failed to swallow, fighting to gather her wits. ‘But, you know, I saw things...when I was living with my sister...and it put me off...er...sex,’ she mumbled as he embarked on her leggings, tugging them down to expose her legs.
‘Anything you don’t like, you only have to tell me,’ Zac told her thickly. ‘Any time you want me to stop, I will.’
‘O-Okay,’ she stammered, barely grasping how she had arrived on the bed and wondering if she should be moving away, reminding him that he had agreed to wait until they were married. Only that restriction seemed so petty now in retrospect that she couldn’t make herself voice that reminder. Tomorrow they would be married and all such restraint would naturally be at an end.
Her leggings went flying and she gulped, feeling overpowered and out of her depth with her rather shabby cheap knickers on view. And she was with a guy who loved luxury lingerie, she recalled in intense mortification, yanking her tunic down to cover herself again.
‘Fique tranquilo...don’t worry,’ Zac urged, convinced she was ready to flee at any moment. ‘I’m worrying enough for both of us.’
Taken aback, Freddie gazed up at him in astonishment. ‘What do you have to worry about?’
A flashing grin softened the taut line of Zac’s mobile mouth. ‘I’ve never been with a virgin before. I want to make it good for you but I don’t know if that’s possible.’
‘Kiss me,’ she heard herself say.
He pressed a soft kiss to her lips and she stopped breathing, her heart hammering a frenzied beat.
‘Once more...with enthusiasm,’ Freddie whispered uncertainly.
And Zac laughed and covered her mouth again with his to extract a forceful, demanding kiss. He nipped at her lips, stroked her tongue, flicked the roof of her mouth and she started trembling, liquid heat rising from the heart of her.
He lifted his head and, gathering her tunic in his hands, he lifted it up and off her. She crossed her arms over her bra. ‘I’m not very big,’ she warned him apologetically.
He released the catch at her slender spine and she bowed forward as if to hide herself from him but he pressed her back against the pillows as he whisked the garment away. Her hands fell away because she felt foolish trying to conceal her body from the man she was about to marry. She closed her eyes tightly, fearful of seeing disappointment in his gaze when he realised that she wore a padded bra and was in truth more fried egg than full English breakfast.
‘You have very pretty breasts,’ Zac husked appreciatively, scanning the pert swell of her dainty curves and the pale delicate pink nipples adorning them.
‘You forgot to say little,’ she muttered awkwardly.
‘Not the first thing that comes to mind,’ Zac confided, lowering his dark head to apply his mouth to a quivering pink bud and lash it hungrily with his tongue.
Freddie jerked, her hips rising involuntarily, her whole awareness suddenly centred solely on what he was doing to her. Long skilled fingers skated a pattern over the stretched-tight fabric between her legs and she held her breath as he freed her of that final barrier. She shivered as he explored her with gentle fingers, stroking, teasingly probing, setting off screaming nerve endings and tingles wherever he dallied. She hadn’t known she would be so sensitive that the gathering tide of pleasure would almost hurt with its intensity, and then he was rising over her and peeling off his shirt.
Nervous tension tugged at her because he was so much bigger and stronger than she was, his biceps bulging, his splendid torso a masculine vision of sleek bronzed and inked skin stretched over a solid wall of muscle. He rolled off the bed to remove his jeans, peeling them down, exposing the intimidating bulge at his groin outlined by his boxers. Then the boxers went and his long, hard length jutted out, clearly primed and ready for action, and she gulped, wondering how he was planning to fit that inside her without hurting her.
Freddie lay rigid, assuming they were in the final phase of intimacy and that it would all be over soon. Zac came back to her and kissed her with a devastating off-the-charts hunger, his tongue delving and teasing, mimicking a far more basic action. Her body softened in the momentary hard embrace of his and then he was sliding down over her, toying with her on the way, a tongue flicking a straining nipple, a kiss bestowed on her belly button, his hands closing over her thighs to part them.
‘What are you doing?’ she gasped when he kept on moving.
‘Trust me,’ Zac urged thickly. ‘You can’t have sex without foreplay. The more ready you are, the less it will hurt.’
Shut up, shut up, she told herself in feverish embarrassment. After all, he knew stuff she didn’t. There had been nothing delicate or seductive about the sleazy encounters she had unwillingly witnessed when she was young and impressionable. She shut her eyes tight, surrendering control, banishing the images that had frightened her off sexual experimentation. Contrary to her expectations, Zac was being neither rough nor crude.
His tongue swiped over her and her hips lifted off the mattress in response. Nothing had ever felt so shockingly good and the ache deep inside her intensified its grip. Her legs trembled in his hold as he continued and the building tide of warmth and excitement made her shake. A bone-deep hunger was coalescing at the heart of her and surging higher and higher until at last she reached the pinnacle and the world exploded in glorious colour, leaving her quaking and breathless, absolutely wrecked by the intensity of her first orgasm.
‘You are very, very sexy,’ Zac growled as he came over her, all virile power and strength, his eyes luminous in the sunlight falling over the bed. ‘But we have to go slow now...’
Freddie wasn’t quite sure what planet she was on at that moment or what they were to go slowly with but that mental blankness evaporated as he spread her wide and sank into her, slowly stretching her with his fullness. A pinch of discomfort made her
grimace and he froze.
‘Don’t move,’ he told her raggedly, his big powerful body arrested over hers as he struggled to resist his need to plunge deep and hard.
Wide-eyed, she stared up at him, her face hectically flushed as he pulled back from her and then shifted forward to sink deep. A hot slice of pain pierced her for an instant and then faded away again.
‘Think that’s the worst over,’ she mumbled.
‘And now for the best,’ Zac grated, circling his hips to stretch her with a hungry groan about how tight she was and then moving with a fluid rhythm that her body seemed to know as if it had been born for it.
There was no more pain, only gathering passion and increased sensation. She arched up in response as he plunged deeper with every thrust, sending pulsing, voluptuous waves of pleasure surging through her laced with mounting excitement. Her heart pounded so loudly she thought she could hear it and the edgy building tension in her pelvis was rising again until she couldn’t hold it back any more and she reached another climax. He thrust into her weak, unresisting body one final time and then stilled with a deep masculine growl of satisfaction.
By the time that Freddie registered that the main act was over, Zac was already out of the bed and striding towards the bathroom. ‘Do you want a bath?’ he called over a muscular brown shoulder.
Freddie watched his bare bronzed body disappear from view, the intimacy strangely shocking even after what they had just shared.
‘Do you?’ Zac prompted.
‘Yes.’ Finally recalling the question and registering that it was broad daylight, she retrieved her brain, but still could not help feeling that it would have been lovely if Zac had held her close for a while after the sex.
But that was being silly, wasn’t it? Practicality, not sentiment, she reminded herself in reproof, fearful of attaching any deeper significance to what they had shared. Sex didn’t mean anything special to Zac, she told herself firmly. It was nothing more to him than a brief physical release. He had given her pleasure and she should be grateful for that and expect nothing more complex.
