Reunited for the Billionaire's Legacy: Christmas at the Castello (bonus novella)

by Jennifer Hayward

It wasn’t until everyone was securely on firm ground and James was being loaded into the ambulance that her knees buckled. Coburn caught her, sliding an arm around her waist.

  “I’m terrified of heights.”

  “I know.”

  The raw emotion in his gaze brought tears dangerously close to the surface.

  “You are insanely brave, Diana Grant.”

  She didn’t feel brave. She felt very close to the edge, too much emotion attacking her from every direction.

  The ambulance crew secured James. Arthur stepped into the back to go with them. Coburn bundled her into the car and drove down the mountain. Diana looked out the window and thought about what could have happened. That little boy could have taken a wrong step and...

  “It didn’t happen.” Coburn flicked her a sideways glance. “You can’t live your life in what-ifs.”

  “Is that what you think I do?” she asked quietly.

  “Until you decided to drop yourself into war-torn Africa, yes. That was a departure.”

  It had been. She sat in the car when they pulled into the driveway of the cottage, in a complete state of inertia. Coburn opened the door and reached down to scoop her out of the seat. She didn’t argue, merely rested her head on his chest as he let them into the cottage, carried her upstairs and deposited her on the floor of his suite’s bathroom while he turned on the steam shower. She looked down at her dress. It was so stained with blood it might as well have been red, not blue.

  She reached around to unzip her dress, but her hands were shaking too hard to accomplish the task. Coburn moved behind her and brushed her hands out of the way. The whisper-soft touch of his lips against the sensitive skin between her neck and shoulder sent a shiver down her spine. “You were a goddamned superhero tonight.”

  She shook her head. “It’s my job.”

  The rasp of her zipper raked across her heightened senses. “It’s not your job to walk out on ledges when you’re terrified of heights to save a little boy. You didn’t even blink.”

  Another shudder vibrated through her. “I was so terrified something would happen and we would plunge into the water.”

  “But it didn’t stop you.” He pushed her dress off her shoulders, his hands coming up to cup her breasts while his mouth returned to that spot that drove her crazy. “I have never been so proud of anything or anyone than I was of you tonight.”

  Her heart squeezed. “I have skills, Coburn. I need to be using them.”

  “I know that.” He pressed his fingers into her shoulders and turned her around. “I have continually underplayed your job. I’ve never fully understood until tonight when I saw you with James how amazing what you do is.”

  Something that felt a lot like hope sprang to life inside her. Maybe this could work between them. Maybe they could change. Maybe she just needed to stop thinking, stop analyzing as she always did and follow her heart. Give them a chance.

  Coburn unhooked her bra and tossed it to the floor. His heated gaze roamed over her swollen flesh, the greedy edge to it making her insides quiver.

  “I swear to God that scene at the dinner table nearly set me off,” he muttered, sliding his thumbs over the partially puckered peaks of her breasts to bring them to aching erectness. “You should have let me finish it.”

  Fire raced through her veins. “That was not happening.”

  “Now it is,” he murmured in her ear. “Get in the shower, Diana.”

  She stepped into the shower, her jellylike legs barely holding her in the wake of his softly issued promise. The hot, heavenly spray poured down over her as Coburn stripped off his bloody clothes. She turned into the jets, letting the hot steam take her, washing away the nightmare of the past two hours.

  Coburn stepped in behind her, the huge steam shower more than large enough for both of them. In fact she thought it might have been designed with half a dozen people in mind. But her husband wasn’t keeping his distance. He washed himself quickly, then picked up the lemon-scented soap and started working on her. His hands built a lather down her back, over the curve of her buttocks, which he lavished with an inordinate amount of attention, and then the length of her legs.

  He stayed kneeling at her feet as he nudged her to turn around. Then he ran the bar of soap over her calf, up her thigh and repeated the pattern on her other leg. When he cupped her between the legs, ostensibly to spread the lather there, his big palm squeezing her sensitized flesh, she moaned and leaned back against the wall. He stood and tossed the soap on the ledge, his muscular, powerful body pressing her harder into the tiles. His fingers wound themselves in her wet hair, his mouth claiming hers as he brought his hand between her thighs again, this time to claim her with the slick invasion of his fingers. She moved her hips against his hand, reveling in the pleasure he gave her with every smooth slide of his powerful fingers. The pressure built, and soon she was begging, pleading for release in incoherent little sentences. His mouth stilled on hers, his breathing rough against the hiss of the spray.

  “I need to taste you, baby.” His sexy rasp stoked the fire inside her, his eyes spearing hers as he drew back to look at her, a barely restrained hunger in his gaze. “Your sweetness...how I make you feel. It was all I could think about tonight touching you.”

  Her legs threatened to buckle. Coburn reached past her, shut the shower off and found a towel to wrap her in. She gave her wet hair a quick rub before he lifted her up, walked through to the bedroom and deposited her on the huge king-size bed. She felt like the prey of some large jungle animal as he joined her, intent written in his midnight blue eyes. Her stomach curled in on itself as he curved his palms under her thighs, bent her knees back and exposed her to the heat of his gaze.

  She closed her eyes. It was too intense, all of it, to bear. She wasn’t sure what was more erotic, how much she loved it when he did this to her or how much he enjoyed doing it.

  The first slide of his tongue against her most sensitive flesh shattered any remnants of numbness, her body a desperate instrument for him to play. She arched against him, seeking, wanting more. He gave it to her with hot strokes of his tongue that laved her, devoured her, until every nerve ending in her body was centered between her legs, focused on what he was doing to her.

  He wrapped her legs over his shoulders and delved deeper. She screamed; she couldn’t help herself. His fingers bit tighter into her hips to hold her where he wanted her. “That’s it, sweetheart. Give yourself to me. You taste so insanely good.”

  She buried her fingers in his wet hair to anchor herself as he shifted his focus to the delicate little nub at the heart of her. He slid fingers back inside her at the same time his tongue lashed over her clitoris with deadly intent. She arched into him, focusing on the release he could give her. When he pressed his fingers into her stomach and took her over the edge, her hoarse cry reverberated in her ears. The white-hot pleasure that radiated from her center to every nerve ending licked her up like an all-consuming flame.

  “Oh, God,” she murmured as the aftershocks of her orgasm racked her core, her hands fisting the comforter.

  Coburn crawled up her body, his arms caging her on each side, a wicked grin on his face. “At your service...”

  Her cheeks fired. “As if.”

  He brought his mouth down on hers, his erotic kiss exploring every inch of her mouth, blending the taste of her, of him, of the passion they shared. Her heart stuttered in her chest. The intimacy of it was blinding.

  He lifted his mouth from hers and rolled onto his side. “Touch me,” he told her harshly, his gaze locking with hers. “Feel how badly you make me want you.”

  She turned and focused on the fully erect length of him, brushing against the hard muscles of his abdomen. He made her mouth dry with anticipation as she curled her fingers around him, his silk-over-steel texture reminding her how good he felt inside her. And thi
s time she got to enjoy him without a condom for the first time ever, no barrier at all between her and his magnificent virility.

  The barely leashed impatience written across the hard bones of his face dissolved on a low growl as he pulled her hand away. He pushed her onto her back, then dragged her against him so his powerful body spooned hers. Her heart stuttered in her chest. He loved this position. Loved to talk to her as he made her crazy.

  She relaxed her limbs, allowing him to push her top leg forward to give him the access he needed. The crown of his thick shaft pressed against her slick flesh, promising extreme pleasure.

  “Tell me,” he rasped in her ear. “Tell me you want me...”

  She did because all week she’d been fighting this. Fighting the forces inside her that knew only Coburn could make her feel whole.

  His fingers tightened on her buttocks as he sank into her, one glorious inch at a time, allowing her body to adjust to his size, his girth. She wished she could see him, see his eyes as he took her, but he was in complete control, capturing the delicate flesh of her earlobe between sharp incisors as he stroked his way inside her until he was buried to the hilt.

  “I love the way you take me,” he murmured huskily as she gasped with the fullness of his invasion. “So tight, baby. So perfectly made for me. Nothing was ever so perfect.”

  His words soothed her battered psyche. She reached back to touch his face. “I want to see you.”

  He ignored the request, withdrawing from her and entering again with a deep, hard stroke. His breath at her ear came quicker now, a roughness to it that said he was fast losing his grip on that ironclad control. She felt him everywhere in this position, touching every nerve ending, firing every synapse she had until her body clenched around his, begging in silent invitation.

  “Coburn...I need to see you.”

  He pulled out of her and rolled onto his back, tugging her astride him. His eyes were the darkest blue she’d ever seen them as he looked up at her, inviting her to consume him as he had consumed her.

  She took him in her hand and guided him inside her, sinking down on the rigid column of flesh. Her breath whooshed from her lungs as she absorbed all of him. He was sinewy, beautiful muscle beneath her, hers for the taking. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted his soul. She wanted to know he was hers.

  She ran a thumb across his beautiful mouth. “You wouldn’t kiss me that night.”

  “It was your punishment.”

  She lowered her mouth to his. “Do it now.”

  He curved his palm around the back of her head and took her mouth in a scorching kiss that penetrated every layer she had until she was his and he was hers and nothing existed except the two of them and what they created together. Magic. Endless, sublime magic.

  She lifted her mouth from his to circle her hips around his pulsing flesh, indulging herself with every hard inch of him. His flesh throbbed and swelled inside her, even larger if that was possible. She leaned forward and let the friction of her body rubbing against his take her close to orgasm. And then there was only Coburn and the pleasure he gave her. How treasured he made her feel when they were together like this.

  Her eyes latched on to his luminous blue ones. “I’ve missed you,” she admitted raggedly. “I’ve missed this.”

  He reached up to brush his thumb across her cheek, his fingers sliding down to cup her jaw. “Climb into me, baby. I’ve got you.”

  It was hypnotic, the glitter in his eyes as he unleashed himself and drove up inside her, his hands on her buttocks holding her steady. She couldn’t take her eyes off his as she drank in the harsh edge to his breath, the ripple of muscle in his biceps as he held her above him. She let herself fall completely then, because in her heart she knew he had her.

  When she was so close to a second orgasm but frustratingly not able to attain it, he moved his thumb between her legs to find her clitoris, his slick rubs across the tiny peak making her whimper.

  She moaned her approval, squeezing her eyes shut as he methodically took her apart. The clench of her body around his ripped an oath from his throat as he throbbed inside her, then joined her, spilling his mark of ownership deep within her.

  It was so different, so vastly intimate to have a piece of him inside her like this; it sent a sated, liquid warmth through her entire body. She snuggled into him when he turned off the light and curved her against his side. But her glow faded when he dropped off to sleep almost immediately. No low murmurs of love as he’d once whispered in her ear to put her to sleep, just the furnace-like warmth of his body to comfort her.

  It was a vivid reminder they were together only because of this baby. That this was what living with only half of him would be like. She’d had a taste of it now, and it was even worse than she’d thought it would be.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ONCE, A COUPLE of years ago, Coburn had run a race in the Sahara desert, where the only goal was to emerge alive. It was the equivalent of completing five and a half marathons in five days in one-hundred-degree heat. You slept in a tent only long enough to give your body the rest it needed, then you got the hell out before some creature ate you alive.

  He’d mused, upon finishing the race, that he’d likely never feel that particular sense of impending doom again in his life. He hadn’t until now. It figured sleeping with his wife would do it.

  Waking up with her long limbs curled around him, the sparkling Caribbean sunshine slanting over them through shutters he’d forgotten to close, it felt as if he’d come face-to-face with one of the deadly reptiles he’d been so careful to avoid in the desert.

  Instead of amazing sex to cure his frustration, last night had been an emotionally complex coming together that had burrowed her under his skin that much deeper. She was getting to him exactly how she used to, and that couldn’t happen. Not when she’d taken his world apart piece by piece once before. Not when he’d never allow her to do it again.

  His chest getting tighter with every moment, he slid out from under his sexy wife, threw on running clothes and headed for the door. A hard, pounding run in the sand helped until he stopped, an hour later, and his head was still in the same place. Confused. Muddy as hell.

  Maybe part of the problem was that his wife had been a goddamned comic book hero last night, throwing herself onto a ledge above the ocean and saving a little boy’s life. It had hit him square in the face how much he’d underplayed the importance of her career. He couldn’t have saved that boy. He’d been standing there frozen like a useless idiot until she’d prompted him into action.

  She had blown him away. But then again he’d always known his wife was exceptional. He’d loved Diana’s brain as much as he loved the rest of her. No one challenged him like her. No one.

  He swiped his T-shirt across his dripping face and pulled in deep breaths as he walked it out to cool off. He needed to draw some lines. Needed to ensure he was in control of this marriage and not the other way around. Too much was riding on his performance as Grant CEO over the next six months to let himself fall back under Diana’s spell. He had exactly what he wanted—her agreement to make this a proper marriage for the sake of their child. Now he had to make it work for both of them. Which meant no false illusions on either of their parts. The all-consuming love they’d once shared had destroyed them. This iteration would involve common sense. Reality.

  His mobile buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out, glanced at the display and held it to his ear. “David.”

  “Sorry to intrude,” his chief operating officer apologized. “I have Reg on the line, too.”

  His heart sank. Having his legal counsel on the line meant the recall had shifted from early rumblings into reality.

  “How bad is it?”

  “Bad,” Reg responded. “The amount of vehicles affected is in the tens of thousands. The class action suit involving those injured is
in the hundreds. We are currently trying to qualify how many of those claims are substantial and what percentage are being motivated by the large sums of money being thrown around by the lawyers. Suffice it to say, this will be the largest recall we’ve ever been involved in.”

  He closed his eyes against the nightmare unfolding on the phone. “How likely is it our parts were directly involved in the brake failures?”

  “Very likely.”

  His insides twisted into a hard knot. Five deaths had been associated with the faulty breaking systems; five deaths Grant’s hands were now stained with. He felt sick to his bones that his company was responsible for a loss of human life. Anger at his engineers for not catching it, at himself for not catching it. And a bone-deep fear at the challenges that lay ahead.

  He was six months into this job. This was a massive recall. It felt blindingly unfair.

  He raked a hand through his hair. “I’ll fly back tonight.”

  “Good,” said his COO. “Sorry again to intrude.”

  His brain was too full to move right away. He stood absorbing the brilliance of the day, the peace and serenity of the vista in front of him. It was like being transported from heaven to hell.

  When he could no longer avoid reality, he turned and headed up to the cottage. Diana was in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, nursing a cup of coffee. His body absorbed the sight of her long, bare legs in the short silk robe with the greedy recall of a man who’d lost himself in all that beauty the night before and wanted to do it again.

  Her gaze moved over his face. “You look stressed.”

  He held up his phone. “We need to fly back to New York tonight.”

  Her face assumed that smooth, emotionless veneer he hated so much. “What’s going on?”

  “Legal issues.”

  “What kind of legal issues?”

  “A recall.”

  A frown creased her brow. “Oh. That’s not good.”

  “No, it isn’t.” He put the phone on the counter, walked over to her and caged her in with his hands resting on the marble on both sides of her.