The Thorn in his Side

by Kim Lawrence

  The first touch of his bare flesh against her own drew a gasp of shock from Libby, who did not retreat from the searing heat of his body, but pressed herself into it, seeking to deepen the contact, that desire growing into frantic desperation as she felt the pulsing imprint of his erection against her belly.

  She arched upwards, her arms wrapping themselves across his sweat-slick muscled back as he settled between her legs.

  With one smooth thrust he drove deep into her body.

  The sound of her shocked cry of pain would he knew stay with him for ever.

  For a split second his mind emptied as he rejected the truth, for a moment he embraced the sanity-saving nothingness.

  The respite was brief.

  Recriminations hovered just on the edge of his consciousness but Rafael pushed them away and let himself enjoy the tight silken body holding him.

  There were no words to describe the way it felt to have him inside her, stretching her, filling her.

  ‘You’re so … oh, God, Rafael … this is so … Rafael …’ She repeated his name over and over, putting all her aching need and wonder into the three syllables.

  ‘Relax,’ he soothed, moving a little way deeper and feeling her gasp, then sigh. He retreated, felt her fingernails dig into his back, and repeated the process, murmuring encouragement as he felt her begin to move with him.

  To know that he was the first one to give her this pleasure gave him a primitive thrill. Determined to make this first time one that she would remember, he reined in his passion, carefully controlling the thrusts of his body.

  Libby closed her eyes and hung on, her face pressed into the curve of his neck, feeling the heat inside her build until it filled her, until she was the heat, then just when she thought she couldn’t get any hotter everything exploded.

  She heard Rafael’s voice in her ear murmur, ‘Go with it, angel.’

  And she did, she went with it all the way, becoming part of the crashing climax that swept like a wave through her body.

  Rafael felt her tighten around him, heard the cry of pleasure wrenched from her throat and felt his control slip. Helpless to hold back any longer, he buried all of himself deep inside her and felt his shattering climax claim him.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  RAFAEL lay breathing hard, staring at the ceiling. Beside him Libby lay curled up like a kitten, her head on his chest, her thigh thrown across his hip.

  ‘It did not cross your mind to mention the fact you were a virgin?’

  Libby opened one eye, wary but taking some encouragement from his conversational tone.

  ‘It crossed my mind,’ she admitted.

  ‘But you decided in your wisdom not to bother.’

  Libby grimaced at the sarcasm in his voice and gave a non-committal grunt and trailed her fingers down the cooling skin of his chest.

  Rafael caught her hand and tipped her onto her back. ‘You can’t distract me,’ he lied.

  His eyes slid down her slim body; the love-making had barely taken the edge off his hunger for her.

  This, Libby thought as she peeled away from his warm body, was the hard part, one she had not really thought about until now.

  ‘I have to go,’ she said, thinking, Play it cool, Libby. He doesn’t want gushing sentiment, just sex. He got that, though possibly with less finesse than he had anticipated.

  Rafael lay there silently as she gathered her clothes from around the room and, standing with her back to him, began to fasten the bra across her narrow back, fumbling a little before she aligned the clasp.

  ‘This is not how it should be the first time,’ he said, his eyes on the pert curve of her deliciously rounded bottom.

  The undercurrent of dissatisfaction rumbling in his voice made her turn her head.

  ‘Do you want me to apologise? If so I’m sorry I was so crap in bed.’ She arched a brow. ‘Satisfied?’

  ‘Do not be so ridiculous!’

  Libby flushed and slid her skirt up over her thighs, twisting it around to reach the zip. She knew her childish response had deserved the reprimand.

  He watched her struggle for a moment, then with an irritated oath vaulted from the bed and moved across to join her. ‘Let me.’

  Libby held herself rigid while he slid the zip up.

  ‘I do not require an apology,’ he said, not moving away. ‘I require an explanation.’

  Libby gave a choked little laugh. He was in for a long wait—with six feet five of magnificent rampant naked male standing next to her she was having a hard time remembering her name!

  He, on the other hand, seemed totally at ease with his naked state. ‘You surely did not save yourself this long to have a quick tumble then off home.’ If he had known, if she had warned him … He struggled to manufacture anger and failed.

  How could he be angry she had given him the most incredible sex he had ever experienced? And though it shouldn’t have, the knowledge that he was her first had added to and not detracted from his post-coital pleasure.

  ‘What was it like your first time?’ Libby swallowed and dragged her gaze away from his naked body. Just looking at him sent a rush of hormonal heat through her body; the intensity of her reaction to him was almost scary.

  He looked startled by the question and then frowned. ‘I hardly remember,’ he said vaguely, his eyes on the lacy bra as he handed her the jacket from the floor.

  ‘You have a delicious body.’

  ‘Thank you, so do you.’ Staring at a point over his shoulder, she missed the twitch of his lips. ‘I should have told you,’ she admitted. ‘I didn’t because I thought you might have a rule … like the no-romance-in-the-office rule, a no-virgin-on-my-watch …?’

  ‘I like to cover all eventualities but I didn’t see this one coming,’ he admitted.

  Libby went over to the mirror on the wall, relieved to see him pull a pair of jeans from a shelf in the wardrobe that ran along one wall of the room.

  She smoothed her hair with little effect. ‘I’ve never done this before because I’ve always thought I couldn’t do sex without … really caring for someone.’

  ‘But with me you can.’

  ‘It was incredible,’ she admitted. ‘And I don’t even like you.’

  In the act of zipping up his jeans, Rafael paused.

  She was aware of his scrutiny and an anxious expression slid across her face. ‘I’ve not offended you, have I? I sometimes say things without thinking, especially when I’m tired …’ She covered her mouth to hide the wide yawn she could not stop.

  As he looked over at her Rafael felt his anger drain away, tipping in a direction dangerously close to tenderness; this woman was the best cure for an inflated ego he had ever come across.

  ‘Not at all. I have no problem being treated like a sex object, outside office hours.’ He pulled a white tee shirt over his head and reached for his car keys off the dresser.

  ‘You’re taking me home?’

  ‘That was the deal. Libby …?’

  She tilted her head and found him watching her with an expression she found difficult to interpret. ‘Would you care to do this again?’

  If her earlier remarks had bruised his ego her fervent, ‘Yes, please,’ more than compensated.

  The first night set the pattern for the nights to come.

  At the end of each day Libby would wait by the car, they would drive to his apartment and start to tear off each other’s clothes before falling into bed. It was all very intense. She wondered if this was because they were trying to cram an entire night’s love-making into a short space of time.

  A situation with which Rafael was openly frustrated. She had thought he might tire of the arrangement and, knowing his reputation, lose interest, but if anything his appetite was more rampant than it had been.

  Libby had not lost interest either. A week after their first time she had been so consumed by her hunger for him that she hadn’t been able to wait for him to undress.

  She had been frantic to touch and feel
him. They had not even kissed when she had pushed him down onto the bed and, kneeling beside him, tugged down the zip of his trousers.

  Freeing his engorged erection and seeing how aroused he was had only increased her levels of excitement. To hear him groan and respond to her touch had driven her delirious with hot desire.

  She had not resisted the temptation to taste him, run her tongue along the throbbing length of him the way he had taught her, before taking him into her mouth. When he had finally pulled her away and, sliding her skirt up to her waist, slid into her, Libby had come so fast and hard that she had sobbed.

  Afterwards she had not been able to believe she had acted that way. For the rest of the week when they had passed in the corridor she hadn’t been able to look at him without imagining he was thinking of the same thing she was.

  Libby hadn’t lost interest; Libby was hooked; Libby was in love. The realisation had made her more inhibited. She was desperately afraid that in the grip of passion she would blurt out her feelings, which would effectively bring this idyll to an end.

  Rafael had given lovers gifts before, but he always designated the task to others. This time he ventured forth into the jeweller’s himself—he would know what he wanted when he saw it.

  He did. He had rejected a number of items before the diamond and sapphire earrings were placed before him.

  He knew immediately that they would suit Libby.

  He carried them around for the entire day, anticipating her pleasure when she received them. This fantasy lasted right up to the moment that she opened them, then sat staring down at the open box with a stricken expression on her white face.

  ‘What’s wrong? Don’t you like them?’ Not gutted, he told himself, just disappointed she did not appreciate the value of the gift. No woman would sneer at a gift that came with the price tag these had.

  ‘They’re beautiful, but I can’t accept them.’ She closed the lid and pushed them back towards him.

  ‘Why can’t you accept them?’ Rafael was unable to hide his annoyance.

  ‘It feels like you’re rewarding me for … for favours.’

  The absurdity of the comment made him see red. He had put effort into this gift and she was throwing it back in his face, quoting stupid principles to excuse bad manners.

  ‘I am not paying you for sex!’

  ‘It just feels that way, sorry.’

  Rafael was so furious he considered walking out, and then she produced another one of those uncensored comments that always captivated him.

  ‘I’d pay you.’ The eyes that were lifted to his face were filled with a helpless longing. ‘I spend all day thinking about …’ that she could still blush was both ridiculous and charming ‘… the time I’m with you …’

  ‘Forget it,’ he said, sliding the box into his pocket.

  They spoke no more of the gift, but the following night when he handed her a brown document folder it was with the instruction not to open it.

  ‘It is not a gift, just the deeds to the factory in your name. Not payment, simply the fulfilment of my part of our deal.’

  ‘But that wasn’t our deal—you said if I could prove I could run things you would put me in as a manager.’

  He raised his brows. ‘I think you misunderstood. It was always my intention to divest myself of this company to you or someone else.’ He shrugged. ‘It is all the same to me, but in my experience when something good falls in your lap you should not refuse it. You have heard the rumours of how I made my fortune, how I started out?’

  ‘Some,’ she admitted.

  ‘Well, the truth is that one of my mother’s … friends. My mother had many friends. This one left one night, my mother was heartbroken. It was actually several days before I found the jacket he had left behind. In the pocket there was a stone. He was a big poker player so I’m assuming that he won it in a game. I doubt he ever knew what it was. I on the other hand had read a book on diamonds. I recognised its value. It now belongs to a Russian oligarch who had it cut—one day maybe I will buy it back.’

  ‘So you kept the stone?’

  He laughed. ‘Well, I did not hand it in at the local police station. It was several years later that I had it properly valued. By then my mother was dead and it gave me a chance to make something of myself.’

  ‘You were alone?’

  ‘I was used to looking after myself. Some of my mother’s friends did not like the idea of baggage so she was asked to choose.’

  Libby’s heart ached for the little boy he had been who had been left behind.

  ‘I was big and strong for my age. There were many people willing to take me in.’

  Libby couldn’t hide her horror. ‘I can’t imagine …’

  ‘Good. I’m glad you can’t—that is how it should be.’

  Libby’s thoughts raced. ‘If I take this, does that mean that my internship is ended?’

  ‘Do you think you have anything more to learn?’

  ‘Of course I do!’

  ‘Then I suggest you stay until you have learnt all the skills you require.’

  Libby had no idea if he was talking bed or boardroom, she was just relieved that this wasn’t ending.

  It was not yet nine when his early breakfast meeting wound down. Rafael set off on foot to make his way back to the office. He was within a few hundred yards of the building when he spotted her, the brightness of her hair catching his eye, the slim curviness of her figure holding it.

  He changed direction and followed her, watching as she walked into the coffee bar. He watched through the window as she headed for an empty table and took her place in the rush-hour queue.

  His mood lifted at the thought of joining her. He was about to do just that when he saw a man join her. Tall and fair-haired, he bent forward speaking to her, smiling.

  A chat-up line, Rafael thought, waiting with a smile to see Libby send him packing. Only she didn’t. She smiled and started chatting to him.

  Rafael stood there and swore, fighting the instincts that told him to walk in there and drag the young man out.

  The thought of Libby’s reaction to that made his lips twitch into a reluctant smile—that would go down almost as well as chest-banging or putting an ad in a national daily announcing to the world at large that this was his woman.

  Except she wasn’t. They had an understanding and there was nothing in this understanding that specifically stated they were exclusive—he had just assumed.

  He shook his head. He was acting as though she were kissing the guy, not passing time with her neighbour in a queue.

  Rafael did not know what was wrong with him.

  He was living the dream; he was enjoying the best sex of his life. He had a beautiful woman in his bed, a woman who made him laugh with no complications.

  And there, he realized, lay the source of his dissatisfaction. His nostrils flared as he forced himself to follow the train of thought through.

  He wanted complications.

  It was a staggering discovery.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ‘GRETCHEN?’

  His PA lifted her head, saw her boss standing there and put the phone down with a rueful sigh. ‘All right, I admit it was a personal call.’

  ‘Cara?’

  Gretchen nodded, encouraged by the relatively mellow response. ‘Yes, it was. She needs cheering up.’

  ‘She works at Me ltons, doesn’t she?’

  His PA nodded. ‘Worked.’

  ‘I did wonder when I heard they were shedding that many jobs. So she’s job hunting … how’s it going?’ Rafael was not surprised when his secretary shrugged and said gloomily, ‘Not well, a trillion applications and so far nothing. If Cara with her qualifications can’t get a job what chance do other people have?’

  ‘Her expertise is IT, isn’t it?’

  Gretchen nodded. ‘She graduated top of her class. She’s brilliant or, to put it in the words of the places she applied to, over-qualified. Talk about catch-22.’

  ‘We
are expanding our IT division.’

  ‘Yeah, I know. I sent out the job ad to the dailies.’

  ‘Has Cara thought of applying? I’m not making any promises but—’

  So astonished she knocked her neatly arranged row of ballpoint pens onto the floor, Gretchen cut across him. ‘You’re not sacking me, are you?’

  Rafael angled an impatient look at her bent head. He knew better than to continue until she had rearranged her pens to her satisfaction. ‘No, I’m not sacking you.’

  ‘Just checking. So what about the no-romantic-involvements-in-the-workplace rule?’

  ‘It is possible that I might be relaxing that rule,’ Rafael conceded.

  A slow smile spread across his PA’s face as she looked at him closely. ‘If I didn’t know better I’d say that was a blush.’

  Rafael’s white grin flashed. ‘Do not push it, Gretchen,’ he growled.

  Gretchen, one eye on the geometric precision of the pads on her desk, grinned. ‘I’ll pass on the message to Cara, though I do have one worry.’

  Rafael arched a questioning brow.

  ‘As you know, Cara is a redhead and I’m a bit worried given your weakness—’

  Rafael could hear her throaty chuckle as he walked down the corridor. He smiled all the way to the park where he knew that Libby ate her sandwich before he lost his nerve. Libby was not alone or eating, she was standing under the large horse-chestnut tree surrounded by her father and what he presumed was the rest of her family.

  He moved off at a tangent, walking along the line of trees until he was in earshot.

  It was Kate Marchant who was speaking.

  ‘So it’s true, then—you’re not trying to deny it. You are sleeping with Alejandro. You’re his mistress. When Rachel said she’d seen you going into his flat I felt as if—’

  From where he stood Rafael saw Libby shake her head; he could not see her face or read her expression but he had no trouble hearing her response.

  ‘No, I’m not denying it, Mum. Please,’ she begged. ‘Don’t cry.’

  ‘Cry? What do you expect her to do? Cheer?’ her brother cried. ‘Libby, that man—how could you? After what happened to Meg. Have you lost your mind?’