by CC MacKenzie
Chapter One - 'A Stormy Spring'
?
?Where were her panties?
On her hands and knees, hair streaming across her face, Becca's heart pounded in her ears.
Her fingers fluttered around the floor, under the bed and found a scrap of silk she realised was her bra and a single shoe.
Where the hell was the other one?
A deep voice muttered in Spanish. She peered through dawn's early light at the man the glossy magazines had crowned one of the world's most celebrated bachelors. He slept amid tousled white cotton sheets in a bed the size of a lake.
What a night. She ached in places she never even knew existed.
The things he'd done to her had been truly ...
A muscled arm flopped over the side missing her by a whisker.
Becca froze, and sighed in relief as he murmured again before pressing his face into the pillow.
The spiked heel of her Jimmy Choo dug into her knee, how she managed to contain the hiss of agony she'd never know.
On shaky legs, dangling her shoes in one hand she got to her feet. She tip-toed to the door and slid into the sitting-room of the luxurious hotel suite.
Her eyes widened in horror as a table lamp shed an intimate glow on the evidence of the night before. On the carpet an empty champagne glass lurched on its side.
Amongst the debris were her wrap and bag and her dress lay in a heap of red silk along with his shirt and tie, hastily toed off shoes and socks. No sign of her panties.
She desperately tried to remember the sequence of last night's events.
Not a good idea.
Don't think.
Get out.
Struggling into her dress Becca wondered what she'd been thinking. She never did things like this. Things like having a one night stand with a perfect stranger. And he was perfect all right, in every conceivable way. The society pages didn't do him justice. They couldn't begin to capture his height, his strength or the sensitivity of that amazing mouth.
Stop it.
Don't think about his mouth.
Frantic fingers zipped up her dress.
She shoved her bra into her bag and feet into sky high heels.
Running away was sheer cowardice. She knew it, but it couldn't be helped.
She was way, way out of her depth with this man. The whole thing felt surreal.
Perhaps she should leave him a note? Thanks for having me?
An erotic little shiver ran up her spine, she wouldn't forget last night in a hurry.
She reached for the door handle.
"Going somewhere, Becca?"
The deep voice husky from sleep held the musical lilt of Spain. It vibrated up her spine and brought jumpy nerves to her throat. The gentle tone, filled with humour, stopped her from acting on her initial instinct and making a run for it.
She turned. Eyes the colour of dark chocolate slammed into hers. Once again their impact left her reeling, off balance.
How could one look across a crowded room have led to this?
He was naked except for black trousers, unbuttoned and unzipped. Her physical reaction, the shortness of breath as her heart ricochet into her throat and the weakness in her legs couldn't be blamed on a couple of glasses of champagne. She was stone cold sober this morning.
Those immense shoulders leaned against the doorframe. She'd pressed her mouth against that marvellous chest, clutched those dark tousled locks as he'd kissed her intimately. Heat rushed into her cheeks. By his broad grin he'd read her mind.
Her brain soaked up the sight of him. He was ridiculously handsome with the light of fun along with a smouldering desire in his eyes as they stayed on hers.
Attack Becca firmly believed was the best line of defence.
She frowned. "Don't look at me like that."
Narrowing his eyes at the combative tone of her lovely voice, Lucas Del Garda recognised panic when he saw it.
Her hair, the colour of burnt toffee, tumbled in slippery curls around slim shoulders. Beautiful blue eyes glittered into his.
She hadn't sounded like that a few short hours ago with those high little moans panting in her throat as she'd begged him to take her. She'd been wild for him and he'd loved it. He had no idea how many times he'd made her come since it wasn't the sort of thing he kept a score of.? But she'd twisted and turned under him and almost burst his eardrums with her screams of completion.
If she thought he was prepared for her to leave without so much as a telephone number then Becca was sorely mistaken. Rebecca, he had no idea of her surname, what she did or where she came from.
This had been a first for him. He never indulged in sex with a woman without covering the preliminaries.
He'd never seen eyes like hers, blindingly blue, they stared into his and he read embarrassment, despair and a mounting alarm that tickled his antennae. Hmm, it seemed Becca had regrets and wanted to escape. Interesting. Most women were more than happy to snuggle after sex. He wasn't a snuggler, never had been and usually managed to extricate himself without any trouble. But last night had been the first time he'd held a woman close. It felt natural with her. It felt right.
Lucas didn't analyse his feelings but accepted them for what they were. He'd known the instant she left his bed and listened to her hunting for her clothes. It had been wrong of him to play with her and he almost laughed as he remembered her little whimper of alarm.
Intrigued, he studied her. No, Becca did not look happy to see him.
For a moment he toyed with the idea of seducing her back to bed but those big eyes staring at him in silent appeal held him back.
He stepped towards her, zipped up his pants and sent her an intimate smile.
Much better to play it cool. Keep it friendly and relaxed.
"The least I can do after such a wonderful night is to offer you breakfast." He picked up the telephone and kept a sharp eye on her. With a little frown wrinkling her smooth forehead she moved towards the centre of the room.
He indicated the couch. "Please, Becca, sit down. We can be civilised about this."
Becca kept a wary eye on him as he ordered enough breakfast to feed a family of eight.
Her stomach growled and she took a breath.
Okay, be an adult, you can do this. Eat, do small talk and then leave. No problem.
"Would you like to shower or have a bath?"
His voice vibrated along her nerve ends. Deep, gravelly and sexy as hell, he could make a fortune as a voice over. She imagined him modelling Speedos lounging in a boat in the middle of the ocean. Those dark sinful eyes curling the toes of every female who watched TV wishing she was there with him. Well, that's how advertising agencies sold expensive cologne for men. They appealed to the women in their lives. And Becca knew Lucas would appeal to any female with a pulse.
She blinked as he raised a dark brow and she realised she hadn't answered his question.
"Thank you."
He pointed her in the direction of another bedroom.
She wandered through and found an en-suite in black granite. The shower was big enough to hold six.?
Stripping down to her skin she wondered again where her panties had gone.?
Becca piled her hair on top of her head, suddenly breathless as water shot from six different jets.? The designer liquid soap smelt wonderful and she slathered it over her body, stifling a groan as the purely feminine part of her throbbed with desire and an aching need that shocked her in its intensity.
What on earth was happening to her?
A gasp of shock escaped from her throat as large hands slid gently but possessively over her flat tummy and too small breasts. How did he know which parts of her were too tender this morning? His fingertips lingered with exquisite care on nipples so delicately sensitized to his touch they were hot-wired to that yearning pulse between her legs.
"If you want me to stop, querida, I will," Lucas whispered into her ear.
The man, Becca decided with a low moan, had magic fing
ers.
She knew she should tell him to stop, but heat scorched over her too sensitive skin wherever he touched her. Her breath caught as his tongue licked her throat and his arousal, thick and hard, pressed into the small of her back.
Lust detonated between her legs as he turned her in his arms, pressed her back against black granite and captured her mouth with his even as her nipples grazed his chest. She parted her lips to allow his thrusting tongue access. God, he tasted fantastic. This time there was nothing gentle in the kiss. There was power, possession and a relentless hunger. That hunger called to her and she answered it with a desperation that verged on insanity.
Was she making those high, keening moans?? Her ardour matched his, kiss for kiss, touch for touch.
When his fingertips touched that screaming little pearl of nerve ends, her legs gave way as the climax took her breath.
"Put your legs around my waist," he muttered in her ear, his voice was deep the tone harsh as he caught her mouth with his and she did as he asked.? Then, thank God, he was inside her. She clung to him, legs around his waist, and arms around his neck as he pumped his hips, thrusting into her, gasping into her mouth desperate words in Spanish. Together they soared higher and higher to a place she'd never known existed before last night. The muscles contracting her centre clutched him again and again. Then the world went black as her mind splintered into a thousand stars.
Their hearts hammering as one, Becca realised Lucas was supporting her weight as well as leaning a hand against the wall for support. Their panting breaths mingled before he groaned into the soft spot under her ear. Pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder, she clung to him and blinked as the water, cool now, battered their skin.
Lucas flicked hair from his face and those dark eyes framed with wet lashes studied her carefully.
He grinned as a hot flush rose from her toes to flood her neck and cheeks.
"Now that is how I want you to look at me, querida, not like a scared little rabbit." Although his voice was soft, the tone was of a man used to command.
His fingertip stroked a burning path down her breast.
Reality gave her a vicious slap.
She caught herself and blinked furiously to hide the emotions that flooded her throat and stung her eyes.
Blindly and on legs that were far from steady, she moved out of his arms, out of the shower. With a shudder she pulled on the complimentary thick white cotton bathrobe and wound a towel around her head.
Rolling up each sleeve she refused to look at him as he dried himself.
A quick glance told her his eyes had narrowed. His intense gaze had the nerves clutching her stomach grow claws.
She turned from him; a firm hand on her arm pulled her back.
Those eyes were not so gentle on her now, but edged with suspicion.
"I see we have a problem." Lucas gripped her other arm and gave her a non-too-gentle shake. "Are you in a relationship? or..." Those dark eyes searching hers narrowed. "Are you married?"
Becca went very still, needles of tension prickling up her spine.
His eyes went ice over steel and she trembled.
"Answer me!" His voice was a whip lashing across raw emotions.
In her head the last ten hours had assumed a surreal quality, almost like an out of body experience. He shook her again and the cold reality of her situation gave her another hard slap. This time yesterday she hadn't set eyes on this man. The way she'd danced with him in the nightclub had shame burn a scorching path up her neck and into her cheeks.
The way she'd gone to his hotel without a second thought for her personal safety had common sense demand now what the hell she'd been thinking.
She'd let a total stranger take liberties with her body. Do things to her, touch her in ways she'd never been touched before ... Even by ... Guilt incinerated her cheeks.
Becca blinked up into a face she didn't recognise now. He looked too big, too wide. His eyes were cold, hard and absolutely appalled.
Furious with herself because she'd behaved in a way that was so alien to her nature warred with humiliation and self-reproach.
The toxic mix of emotions burned in her throat and she grabbed anger like a lifeline.
How dare he treat her like this?
She pushed him, dismayed when he didn't budge.
The look in his eyes chilled the marrow in her bones.
Her legs might be trembling, but her chin came up.
"Let go of me," she whispered.
Time seemed to stand still before he thrust her away as if she'd burned him. Becca staggered as he turned and stalked out of the bathroom. And jumped as the door to the bedroom slammed behind him.
Scrubbing hot tears from her cheeks Becca wondered what on earth she was going to do.
She towel dried her hair before dragging a comb through it so hard it brought fresh tears to her eyes. No crying. It changed nothing.
For almost two years she'd managed to hold it together, to lock grief into that dark place in her psyche. She'd thrown herself into working ten or even twelve hour days.
Recently cracks had appeared in her facade when she least expected it. Her behaviour was becoming erratic she realised now. She'd been on the edge, nearly losing her temper with Justin twice this week. The pressure was getting to her, the stress of delivering to strict creative deadlines again and again made her feel like a hamster on a wheel going nowhere fast.
Last night had been her first night out since ... The ache in her heart was a physical agony now she simply couldn't ignore.? But she wouldn't think about it. The main thing was to get out of here in one piece and she still had to get past a very angry Lucas.
How could she tell a perfect stranger something she still battled to come to terms with herself? She knew it simply wasn't logical to feel as if she'd betrayed Rick, but she couldn't help feeling terribly guilty.
Not only had she had sex with another man, but it been totally outside any experience she'd had with her late husband. Rick had been gentle with her. He'd cherished and loved her. What she'd experienced last night had been nothing but an overwhelming lust, the sexual act at its most primitive, most basic.
What did that say about her as a woman?
Grief, still horribly fresh, washed through her system.
Closing her eyes tight, Becca fought for control as she steadied herself.
She desperately needed to find that dark place where she brooded in safe isolation.
The occasional shudder overtook her as she fumbled with the zip of her dress; thrust her feet into her shoes.
She wound the cream cashmere pashmina around her and picked up her bag chanting to herself to get out and away from this man.
With a deep inhale and exhale, she opened the door.
The scent of bacon and coffee made her stomach heave.
Lucas was sitting at a desk writing on a sheet of hotel paper.
He wore soft blue jeans and a black sweater. His feet were bare.
The logical unemotional part of her brain, the part that got her through every endless day, noticed the way his black hair clung to his skull and that he had the most beautiful hands.
He turned and saw her.
Becca kept her eyes on his chin.
The atmosphere was so icy she shivered.
"Rebecca, what?" The words, quietly spoken, vibrated with suppressed fury.
"Sorry?"
"Your surname."
"Wainwright," she told him in a shaky voice.
"That would be Mrs Rebecca Wainwright?"
She nodded. It was the simple truth.
He folded the paper and placed it in an envelope. All the while those dark eyes stayed on her face.
"You are a piece of work, Mrs Wainwright. I do not suppose I am the first to be taken in by those big eyes? Or do you have the usual sob story about how your husband does not understand you?"
Becca blinked and opened her mouth to tell him the truth then closed it. What had happened to her was none of this man'
s business.
Common sense told her she'd done nothing wrong, but her heart told her she'd betrayed Rick by acting like a common whore. She'd let Lucas Del Garda touch her in ways, kiss her in ways that had broken every link in the chain of her self control. Rick would never have bent her over the arm of a sofa, thrusting into her, rutting like an animal, so hard that his balls slapped against her sweet spot.
?And she'd loved every single second of the experience. What she'd wanted, needed, had been a physical connection, an intimacy with another human being. She'd been starving for it she realised now with hindsight.
This man, who had swept her off her feet last night, was physically overwhelming and an expert in seduction. He'd played her body like a violin, knowing precisely which strings to pluck to make her soar to his tune. And God, she'd soared to dizzying heights. Heights she'd never reached with the love of her life.
Her womb clutched again as she stood there just staring at Lucas. Shame flooded her system and she wondered if she would ever be able to forgive herself for still having lingering erotic feelings of desire for a total stranger.
Emotion drowned her voice. "I've never done anything like this before."
The effect of his dark nerve-shredding stare was devastating.
The hold on her emotions became shiveringly unstable.
Heat scorched her cheeks as his gaze ran over her body possessively.
She caught a glimpse of the thundering pulse in the hollow of his throat as he swallowed and took a deep breath.
His hand fisted on the table.
"Can I call you?" The words were spoken so softly she strained to hear him.
The room was so quiet she might have heard a silkworm breathe.
Emotions all over the place with everything that had happened in the last few hours, initially her mind refused to compute.
Good God, he was willing to have an affair? Disappointment with him warred with a righteous anger that she'd behaved like a wanton with a man who appeared to have no respect for women or the sanctity of marriage. Becca didn't take much notice of the tabloids, but it appeared they'd been spot on with this guy and he'd had the gall to say that she was a piece of work?
What kind of man was he?
She shook her head as the deepening fury with herself turned outwards. Anger felt a hell of a lot better than guilt.
Her throat was dust dry. "I don't think that would be a good idea."
His eyes were cool now and remained on her face as he stood and moved towards her.
For a moment she thought he was going to argue, but he handed her the envelope.
"If you ever change your mind."
Heart thundering in her ears, she stared at the envelope before dropping it at his feet.
Opening the door she looked back and tipped up her chin, finding it hard to focus through swimming emotions.
"Don't hold your breath. I'm not married." She blinked rapidly to clear her vision and saw his eyes narrow before she continued, "He died and he was worth ten of you."
?
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End of Chapter One - 'A Stormy Spring'
