by Margaret Way
“So what?” She dashed the sparkle of tears away. “I’m good at it too when I get started. Sometimes tears are outside a woman’s control, didn’t you know?”
“And sometimes a man can hurt a woman when he doesn’t intend to.” Emotion deepened his voice. “Look at me, Amber.”
Look at him! She was desperate to run to him but uncertainty continued to pin her in place.
“All right, if Mahomet won’t come to the mountain, the mountain must come to Mahomet.”
“Oh, Cal what are we doing?” Even as she said it, her body was up and swaying towards him. She was in a high state of arousal. Her sensitive nipples had already tightened into buds that desperately needed the touch of Cal’s forefinger and callused thumb.
“Nothing as yet,” he gritted, hauling her into his arms. “Just let yourself go. All you have to do is hold onto me.”
His dark head blocked out the overhead light. She breathed in his warm breath. “But Cal, I need to know—”
He cut her off. “Ask me afterwards. I know what you want. I know what I want. Let our bodies do the talking for us.” He brought up his right hand, weaving his long fingers into the loose mass of her hair. “Open your mouth.”
Her mind went clear of everything but want. She could feel her limbs dissolving. Her body was as alight as if a fire blazed inside. She could have wept from the conflagration. She did in fact make a little sound that could have been interpreted as dissent, only Cal was having none of it. He lowered his mouth over her cushiony lips, kissing her so deeply, so voluptuously that her arms came around him, tightening, pulling him in to her as if she would never let him go.
Surely that settled everything, he thought, moving into a high state of elation. She tasted wonderful. Like peaches and sunshine. Their tongues were meeting, mating, in a sinuous love dance. He could feel her supple fingers begin to knead his back. She seemed desperate to touch not fabric but skin. He understood perfectly. He had only to release a zipper to have her satiny dress slip from her body and pool at their feet. His hands moved compulsively to the undercurves of her beautiful breasts, taking their weight, his fingertips centring on the rose-coloured nipples. He could see the agitated flutter of her eyelids. He already knew she wasn’t wearing a bra, so it would be naked flesh he would find beneath his hand.
Once he fell to kissing and caressing her he couldn’t stop. But neither was she stopping him. She was giving him everything he so desperately desired. It was all out in the open. The passion they shared for one another couldn’t be denied. Something this powerful demanded trust. He was ready to embrace it. There was wisdom in listening to her…
Gradually their lovemaking escalated to a pitch where it was hard to tell what was teasing and what torture. Still holding her, he stripped back the quilted silk coverlet of the bed, urged on by the soft little mewing sounds she was making.
“I love you,” she cried frantically. She couldn’t hold it in. Her whole body was vibrating with it.
He all but tossed her onto the bed in his urgency. “Yes, I know.” He began to strip his splendid body naked, the lamplight gilding his skin.
“You know?” She half rose up from the bed, then fell back again, transfigured by his words.
“Of course I know,” he said in a voice pent-up with emotion. “I think we’ve pretty well cleared that small point up.”
“Then I’m waiting to hear you tell me you love me.” Ecstatically she threw her arms back over her head, inviting the adoration that was emblazoned on his dynamic face.
“I plan to.” He half loomed over her, all strength and sinew and rippling muscle. “But it’s going to take hours—” long kisses “—and hours…”
Rapture shone from her face, resounded in her soul. “So you don’t want me to go away?”
His green eyes were impossibly brilliant. “There’s one thing I haven’t told you yet, my beautiful Amber. You want me to say it, right?”
She pulled him down bedside her, spooning her body into his, welcoming his powerful arousal. “I’m listening.”
“I want to tell you something I haven’t told another soul.” He gathered her even closer, binding her to him as if by invisible chains.
“Yes?” she whispered, shaking with excitement, her thighs already moving apart.
“I’m ready to reach out. It was you who worked that miracle. I see a woman so beautiful, so strong, so full of character, I worship at her feet. I see a woman I will love for as long as I live. I see a woman I can trust. I love you, Amber. I adore you. I’m not letting you get away. I’m going to keep you for ever and ever.”
Saying it, he reached down to capture her yearning mouth.
And so it turned out. A lifetime of sharing, fiery little clashes, passionate making up, the maintaining of a dynasty. Three children in total. A boy and girl of their own. Steven first, then Stephanie named in honour of their grandmother, who often came to visit. Their cousin, Marcus, more a big brother than a cousin, was raised as part of this loving brood. Janis MacFarlane never remarried but she did reach dizzy heights in the world of finance. She became CEO of a merchant bank, which gave her absolute fulfilment. Eliot MacFarlane eventually found true love. He married his son’s former nanny, Martha Fenton, a woman as gentle and loving as his first wife, Caro. Amber wrote her books to critical acclaim.
It was a great life. A total life. A life to shout about!
ISBN: 978-1-4268-3799-9
CATTLE BARON: NANNY NEEDED
First North American Publication 2009.
Copyright © 2009 by Margaret Way Pty., Ltd.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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