He could smell the subtle bayleaf scent of her hair as she turned round and flicked her ponytail back and the gesture made her breasts jiggle beneath the uniform dress. Automatically, his gaze lingered on them and it took all his concentration to lift his eyes to her face.
‘You...startled me,’ she said.
‘That wasn’t my intention.’
‘Where’s your stick?’
With a start he looked down at his empty hands, only just noticing that he’d left it behind. ‘I didn’t even realise,’ he said. ‘I must have left it by the pool.’
‘I’ll go and get it for you.’
‘No,’ he said suddenly. ‘I don’t need it any more.’
‘I think that’s something your doctor should decide.’
‘My doctor’s not here, Carly.’ He began to walk across the room towards her. And suddenly he was walking completely unaided, consciously free of support for the first time in months and he gave a low shout of laughter at the sense of exhilaration he felt. ‘But you are.’
‘I’m not qualified to give medical advice.’
‘I don’t need any medical advice,’ he said, his shadow falling over her face as he came to a halt right in front of her. ‘At least, not for what I’m planning to do.’
‘Oh? And what’s that?’ she questioned lightly, as if there weren’t a hundred dark undercurrents flowing between them. As if her darkened eyes weren’t unconsciously begging for him to kiss her.
‘You’re an intelligent woman, Carly. Don’t ask questions to which you already know the answer.’
Her eyes were huge as she looked at him, but they were wary, too. She shook her head and he could see the rippling movement of her throat before she spoke, as if she were trying to swallow something which was stuck there. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Oh, please. Don’t pretend, Carly. You’re too clever for that. Unless you’re trying to deny the chemistry which has been building for weeks, or that you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you. You’re driving me out of my mind with frustration, and I have the feeling that if I don’t do something about it soon, then one or both of us are going to go crazy.’
Carly was trembling as he reached out and coiled his fingers around the back of her head and the unthreatening nature of the gesture meant that she found herself sinking into it. And once she had let him touch her, she was lost. She tried to think logically. To be that person who was good at science. To concentrate on the million reasons why this shouldn’t happen. But all she could think of was how mesmerising it felt to have the tips of his fingers rubbing at her scalp like that, as if he was giving her an impromptu head massage. As if the tables had turned and he was the one now in charge. Oh, yes. He was definitely the one in charge. She could feel her eyelashes fluttering and the lids suddenly felt unbearably heavy. ‘We can’t do this,’ she said desperately.
‘Why not?’
‘You know why not. I work for you—’
‘I’ll give you dispensation, starting from now.’
‘That’s not funny.’
‘It wasn’t intended to be funny. I’ve never been more serious.’
He was still stroking her scalp and Carly knew she should pull away before it was too late. So why didn’t she? Because she liked his fingers in her hair and his black eyes looking at her like that? Or because all those feelings she’d thought were dead were now flickering to life inside her, and she was afraid to move in case they disappeared again?
Their eyes met and held.
‘We can’t,’ she said again, more desperately this time.
‘Stop fighting it. We can do any damned thing we like,’ he said harshly as he pulled her face towards his.
But unlike his words, his kiss was soft. Soft and insistent and innocent enough to make her relax, until she felt her lips parting through no conscious effort of her own. She felt the flicker of his tongue against the roof of her mouth and, automatically, she coiled her arms around him, clinging to him with an eagerness which surprised her. She had watched him and wanted him for weeks and at last she was touching him.
And suddenly she was consumed by her need for him. The past became nothing but a desolate place which was retreating by the second. The present was here. Now. And she wanted to live every single second of it.
Did she make some kind of sound? Was that why he lifted his head to stare down at her with a gleam of pleasure in his black eyes? His mouth gave a flicker of a smile before he lowered his head towards hers again.
She didn’t know how long that second kiss lasted, only that it was underpinned with a new sense of purpose. He levered her up against the wall, pushing the flat of his hand above her head for support, while with the other he stroked her face. And not just her face. His fingers moved down over her neck, drawing tiny little lines along her collarbone, and she shivered in response. Next thing she knew, they were skating down over her breastbone and she moved her body restlessly. She heard him give a soft laugh as he pulled at the zip of her uniform dress. She felt that first little tug of resistance before he slid it down to her waist and the material parted easily, leaving her breasts to slide free.
She felt the rush of air which cooled her skin and heard his muffled murmur of appreciation as he drew away to look at her. He didn’t seem to notice her functional bra—nor to care that it was chosen with support rather than frivolity in mind. There was nothing but dark intensity on his face and a look in his eyes she’d never seen there before.
‘Perfecta,’ he uttered, cupping one breast in the palm of his hand, as if he was weighing it. His thumb flickered across one nipple and, despite the barrier of the bra, her puckered flesh tightened in a rush of pure pleasure.
‘Oh!’ she gasped.
‘Still think we “can’t”?’ he mocked.
She couldn’t think of anything except the way he was making her feel. His hand had slithered down to her dress and he was rucking it up. Her body felt hot. Her skin was suddenly too tight for her body and her pounding heart too big for her chest. She closed her eyes, hardly daring to breathe for fear that he would come to his senses, and stop.
But he showed no signs of stopping. On the contrary, he was now pushing her towards the narrow massage bed, which lay like a sacrificial table at the centre of the room, and she felt her bottom collide with the soft, leather surface. Instinctively, she dug her fingers into his neck, terrified that she was going to slip to the floor and take him with her and shatter all the sensual magic. Momentarily, his mouth curved into a hard smile.
‘Relax,’ he murmured. ‘I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t think I was capable of following through.’
The sexual boast broke into the sweet fug of desire which had descended on her and the magic began to dissolve in a way which was chillingly familiar. Her body went from heated need to icy revulsion in one sobering second. Only this time she wasn’t with some sleaze of a guy at a party, who was still smarting with rage at another woman’s rejection. This was Luis.
Luis her boss.
Luis who bedded actresses and supermodels.
What was she doing?
Panic swept into her mind like the dark beat of flapping wings. With all the detachment which her scientific brain was capable of, she pictured the scene as others might see it. As Simone might see if she walked into the massage room. Carly with her uniform open to the waist—her breasts hanging out and her legs parted. And her billionaire boss with his hand up her skirt, eager to slake his frustration on the most accommodating woman to hand. Despite her lacklustre looks and lowly job, he had decided that he wanted to have sex with someone as unlikely as her. Someone who just happened to be in the right place at the right time.
Or the wrong time.
Appalled at herself, she pushed at his chest with the flat of her hand. ‘No!’ she said.
Perhaps he thought she was playing a game. As if she had suddenly decided to adopt the role of tease, because he dipped his head to brush his lips o
ver hers. ‘Oh, Carly,’ he said, very softly. ‘Just shut up and kiss me again.’
But the kiss was no longer working. It no longer felt like magic. Her mind was playing tricks with her as she started to remember that other kiss. The forced entry of an alien tongue, and then...then... The blood in her veins was now so icy that it hurt.
‘No,’ she said again, splaying the flat of her hand over his chest.
And maybe this time he realised she meant it. That her words weren’t just the flutter of someone saying something because they felt they should. She could see surprise flickering over his face, as if nobody had ever stopped him before, and she wondered how she could have been so stupid.
Of course nobody had ever stopped him before.
She slid down from the massage bed but her fingers were shaking as she yanked the zip of her dress back up and tugged her skirt into place.
‘What are you doing?’ he demanded.
‘What does it l-look like? I’m calling a halt to this before it gets completely out of hand.’
‘I don’t understand. One minute you’re up for it, and the next you’re acting like I’m the big, bad wolf.’ His face darkened. ‘I’m not crazy about women who play games. What’s the matter, Carly?’
‘What’s the matter?’ Moving away, she gripped onto the aromatherapy table for support, her heart racing so hard that she felt dizzy. ‘Where shall I begin? With the total lack of professionalism we’ve both just demonstrated?’
‘I told you that I was prepared to overlook that.’
Carly shook her head. She never got it right where men were concerned, did she? Maybe she was just one of those women who had victim or walkover written all over them. She looked at Luis, at his magnificent body in the faded jeans and white shirt and the way his sensual mouth seemed to form a natural, wilful pout. The wild black hair hung in tendrils around his collar and he looked just as much a pin-up as he’d ever been.
As if someone like him would seriously be interested in someone like her in normal circumstances. ‘Well, I’m not prepared to overlook it,’ she said. ‘Because no woman likes to think of herself as a substitute.’
His eyes were suddenly watchful. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘Oh, come on. This is me, Luis, not someone you’ve just picked up at a party. I’ve been in your life long enough to know what you’re like. You’re renowned as being a ladies’ man. As a man who loves women.’
‘Your point being?’ he questioned coldly.
‘That you’re known for your love of supermodels and actresses. In all the time I’ve worked for you, I’ve never seen you date someone who...’ Say it, Carly. Just come right out and say it. ‘Someone like me!’ she finished. ‘Someone ordinary, who you’re only making a pass at because I just happen to be around.’
He rubbed his finger up and down the uneven surface of a nose which had once been broken by a jealous husband, but when he spoke, his voice was curiously calm. ‘You don’t think I could have one of these leggy supermodels or actresses in my bed within an hour or two, if I wanted? That it might be more straightforward if I did?’
‘So why don’t you?’ she challenged.
‘Because it’s you I want,’ he said savagely. ‘It may be wrong and it may be inexplicable, but I. Want. You. And you want me, too.’
Carly stared at him. His voice had roughened and grown hard with desire, but only one word stood out. His feelings for her were inexplicable, were they? He couldn’t understand why he wanted her. Yet wasn’t he only telling her what she already knew? That this could only ever be a one-off, which was only ever going to end in tears.
And she couldn’t let it happen, no matter how much she wanted him.
She wondered how to handle it. She could storm out without any kind of explanation, but that wouldn’t solve anything. From what she knew about human psychology, she guessed that flight might only sharpen his decidedly alpha traits. He might be fired up enough to hunt her down and kiss away all her doubts and she might not be strong enough to resist him again.
But if she told him the bare facts, then wouldn’t that act as a natural repellent? He was a playboy, yes, but she suspected he had the double standard so common to many of his type. Didn’t men like Luis see women as either good girls, or whores? If he knew the truth about her, he might respect an innocence which would put her off-limits to him, and stop this from happening ever again.
She met the hungry glitter of his gaze.
‘Well, it’s not going to happen, because I’m...’
‘You’re what?’
She tried to swallow down the complex mix of feelings, but suddenly it was no good and the words came spilling out of her mouth. ‘I’m a virgin!’ she burst out, and saw the narrow-eyed look of comprehension on his face. ‘Yes! Now do you understand, Luis? I’m a freak—a weirdo—a twenty-three-year-old woman who has never had sex!’
And with that, she turned and ran from the massage room as if some deadly snake had slithered down from the mountain and was intent on biting her.
CHAPTER SIX
HE DIDN’T COME after her.
He didn’t follow her to her sumptuous room overlooking the bright blue bay. He didn’t push his way in and try to kiss away every one of her objections, which seemed to be diminishing as the minutes ticked by. Carly stood staring out at the sleek white yachts she could see skimming across the distant water and felt the plummet of her heart. Had she really thought he might? Hadn’t she hoped he might?
Well, yes. If honesty was the name of the game, she had.
She bit her lip as doubt washed over her. Even if Luis had decided that making love to her was a bad idea after what she’d just told him, at least he could have reassured her that she wasn’t some sort of freak, even if she’d used that description herself. He could have laughed it all off as behaviour which had just got out of hand. He could tell her what she already knew, that there was definitely chemistry, but that it would be a very bad idea to act on it. Then they could forget what had happened and go back to how it had been before.
She turned away from the window. Could she do that? Pretend that he hadn’t kissed her breasts, or rucked up her skirt like that? Or that she hadn’t enjoyed every glorious and forbidden second of it, until his boast reminded her just what kind of man she was dealing with.
Walking over to the mirror, she saw herself as Luis must have seen her. Her skin was flushed, her hair wild and her eyes didn’t look like her eyes any more. She swallowed. This was a Carly she didn’t recognise.
A Carly she’d thought was lost for ever. A woman who could feel desire and act on it, just like any other woman.
Throwing her discarded uniform into the laundry basket, she washed her face and changed, but as she brushed her hair and tied it back into a ponytail she wondered how she was going to fill the hours until supper. And what on earth she was going to say to Luis when she saw him again. How could she have told him about her virginity like that?
Her muddled thoughts were disturbed by a knock on the door and her dread was complicated by the thunder of her heart when she opened it to find Luis standing there.
But on his face wasn’t the anger she had been anticipating. Wasn’t that a trace of amusement she could read in his dark eyes?
‘You have to realise,’ he said drily, ‘that if you want a man to run after you, it’s usually better to choose a man who can actually run.’
She swallowed. ‘I didn’t want you to run after me.’
‘Oh, but I think you did,’ he said, dark eyebrows rising. ‘Aren’t you going to invite me in?’
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’
‘You have a better one? Like pretending nothing happened?’
‘Nothing did happen.’
‘No?’
She shook her head. ‘No!’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Look, why don’t you open the door properly and let me in, so that we can have this conversation in private?’
‘Is
that an order?’
‘If that’s what it takes—then yes, it’s an order.’
Carly hesitated, but she could see from his expression that he wasn’t going anywhere. He wanted to satisfy his curiosity. He wanted to know why and at the end of the day he was still her boss, wasn’t he? If they had to have this conversation then surely it was better without the risk of Simone or one of the other staff coming past and overhearing them.
‘Oh, very well. Come in, if you must,’ she said ungraciously, opening the door wider.
Luis walked into the room, his heart beating out a primitive tattoo as she closed the door behind him. He had just spent the last hour telling himself that this was a bad idea and that he should forget what had almost happened.
But he couldn’t forget it. Or maybe he didn’t want to. He couldn’t forget the look of shame on her face as she’d blurted out her innocence to him. And he couldn’t forget the way she’d made him feel when he’d kissed her. It had felt sweet and soft and powerful. But most of all it had felt dangerous, and he had always been hooked on danger.
He heard her footsteps behind him and turned to look at her. Beneath the light tan her face was tight with tension and she was chewing the inside of her lip. He found himself wanting to take that look of anxiety away. He wanted to make her melt again, only this time, he wanted to do it slowly.
‘So why are you here, Luis?’
‘Not to apologise, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
She seemed to have difficulty meeting his gaze. ‘Then, why?’ she whispered.
‘I want to know why you spoke about your virginity like that.’
She flinched, as if his bluntness had startled her, but she treated his question in the same way she might have treated a polite enquiry about the weather. ‘And how was that?’
‘As if you were ashamed of it.’
Now some of her poise seemed to desert her because she stared at the floor and started rubbing her toe against the Persian carpet. There was a long pause before she lifted her head to meet his gaze. ‘Why should that surprise you?’ she said. ‘It’s not exactly something to be proud of, is it? We live in an age where we’re bombarded by sexual images, and people who don’t conform to the norm of having amazing sex all the time are regarded as freaks. Most women of twenty-three aren’t like me.’
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