Bride, Bought and Paid For

by Helen Bianchin

  ‘No,’ Xavier offered with indolent amusement, and she arched a deliberate eyebrow.

  ‘As if I care.’ Except she did, and it bothered her more than she wanted to admit.

  Three years, she decried silently? Of course he’s been with other women. Many…so what if he hadn’t brought one of them here. Big deal.

  The waitress delivered their tea, enquired if they wanted anything else, and when they declined she merely offered a polite smile, took note of their suite number and returned to the bar.

  ‘Is this where we discuss the state of the nation, world economics, your latest take-over venture?’ Romy posed, and saw his mouth widen with humour.

  ‘The short or long version?’

  ‘Whatever, as long as you don’t send me to sleep.’

  ‘We could, of course, discuss your day.’

  ‘Preferably not.’

  ‘Problems?’

  Nothing specific. Just a faint niggle that wouldn’t go away. ‘It takes a while for a new teacher to be accepted into the student demographic.’

  Xavier caught the edge of tiredness in her voice, the pale features and the smudges beneath her eyes which the brief nap during the drive had done little to alleviate.

  He stood to his feet. ‘Let’s go.’

  For a brief moment he glimpsed her uncertainty, then it was gone. ‘I’m fine.’

  Doubtful, he perceived, ignoring her protest.

  Her nervous tension rachetted up a few notches as they entered their suite, and she removed her earrings, slid off her watch and bracelet, then she gathered up a cotton sleep-shirt and disappeared into the en suite, where she undressed, removed her make-up and cleaned her teeth.

  Hardly a pretty sight, she admitted as she spared her mirrored image a glance, and told herself she was beyond caring.

  She closed her eyes, then opened them again.

  Time to go face her husband…and whatever the night would bring.

  Except he wasn’t occupying the bed. Nor had he discarded his clothes. Instead, he was seated at the small desk in front of an open laptop.

  He glanced up and met the faint surprise evident in her startled gaze. ‘Go to bed. I won’t be long.’

  ‘You’re offering me a reprieve?’

  His eyes darkened. ‘You want me to change my mind?’

  Don’t say a word, she bade herself silently. Just slip beneath the sheets of the comfortable large bed, settle in, close your eyes, and sleep if you can.

  She wouldn’t, of course. She was too supremely conscious of him sharing the same room…the same bed.

  Except the lightly scented sheets, the luxury pillow, were the last things she remembered, and she was unaware Xavier caught her swift passage into somnolence…or that she failed to stir when he slid in beside her from the opposite side of the bed.

  Romy woke to the aroma of fresh coffee, and she stretched, unaware of where she was for a few seconds, until recognition dawned, and with it came the need to determine whether she was alone in the bed.

  ‘Breakfast has just arrived.’

  Xavier caught her startled glance and took in her tumbled hair, the sleep-shirt which dipped low over one shoulder, saw the moment she realized and quickly lifted a hand to set it in order.

  ‘You slept well.’

  Had she? It was obvious from the tossed-back covers that she hadn’t slept alone. Had they…? Surely she’d have known. Which brought the question—

  ‘No.’

  Pink flooded her cheeks, and she rolled her eyes in self-castigation.

  He looked refreshed, attired in chinos and a chambray shirt, trainers on his feet. Relaxed. How did he do that?

  She was suddenly conscious of her rumpled state, a need for the bathroom.

  ‘It’s not as if I haven’t seen you in a state of undress,’ he opined with musing indolence, and she picked up a pillow and heaved it in his direction.

  ‘You could at least afford me some privacy.’

  ‘If you want to play…’

  Romy escaped and felt the colour tinge her cheeks as she heard his soft chuckle.

  She ran the shower, used the complimentary shampoo on her hair, and took her time before shrugging into a towelling robe several sizes too big for her before emerging into the bedroom.

  ‘I’ve ordered another breakfast to be sent in.’

  She crossed to the table and lifted a cover from a plate, saw there was more food than she could cope with, and shook her head. ‘There’s enough here.’ She took a seat and picked up a piece of crisp bacon, munched on it, then sliced a knife through eggs benedict. She poured fresh coffee into her cup, added sugar, and carried cup and saucer to the table.

  ‘I think I might go horse riding while you play golf,’ Romy remarked as she perused the brochure.

  ‘What gives you the impression I intend to play golf?’ Xavier drawled as he replaced the phone after cancelling the second breakfast order.

  She spared him a direct look. ‘Maybe because there are two eighteen-hole golf courses?’

  He arched an eyebrow. ‘Why would I choose to leave my wife alone for the day?’

  ‘Then what do you suggest?’

  ‘Alternatively, we could stay in.’

  No need to guess how he proposed they occupy their time. ‘Let’s not,’ she managed evenly as she pushed her plate to one side, her appetite gone.

  He wore the tycoon image well, for there was a wealth of power evident in his compelling features. Yet beneath the surface lay the ruthless force of a man who’d fought hard to build a fortune. Someone only a fool would seek to cross.

  At the height of their relationship, she wouldn’t have had any hesitation in nestling onto his lap and wrapping her arms round his neck as she sought his mouth with her own. Exulting in his response and where it led as they delighted in pleasuring each other until only sexual possession would suffice. Nights that never seemed long enough…and days which passed far too slowly.

  Would they ever reach that place again?

  Somehow she doubted it.

  Yet there was a part of her that longed for the affection he’d accorded her…the laughter, the hope he might offer her more.

  ‘Why don’t you go dress,’ Xavier suggested. ‘We’ll drive to Sorrento, explore, have lunch, then go on to Portsea.’

  The togetherness thing sounded fine, as long as it didn’t feature the bedroom, and she drained the rest of her coffee, then gathered up jeans, a light knitted jumper, fresh underwear, and disappeared into the en suite to change.

  Contrary to Romy’s expectation, they enjoyed a pleasant day exploring the Sorrento boutiques, the galleries, bypassing hotel fare for a leisurely lunch at one of the sidewalk cafés. There were several specialist shops which drew her attention, and she browsed at will, examining the various wares on display.

  Xavier rarely left her side, and she was supremely conscious of him, the occasional light touch of his hand at her waist as he directed her attention.

  It reminded her of a previous time when she’d imagined he was her world and the entire universe combined. How naive had she been? Believing marriage to Xavier to be her ultimate goal.

  Conversely, it had become a reality…for all the wrong reasons. Worse, she was at war with her emotions. How was it possible to hate him for making her compliance the pivotal condition in her father’s financial rescue package…yet ache with longing to recapture the intimate joy they’d once shared.

  Crazy. Like the latter would happen anytime soon…if ever.

  And what of her divorce pact?

  ‘You’re thinking too much.’ Xavier’s slightly accented drawl brought forth a brilliant faux smile.

  ‘And you know this…because?’

  He pressed a light finger to the centre of her lower lip where she’d unconsciously captured the soft inner tissue between her teeth. ‘A dead giveaway.’

  So much for the cool calm facade!

  ‘Would you prefer to dine here, or return to the resort?’


  ‘You’re offering me the choice?’

  ‘That surprises you?’

  ‘Yes,’ she relayed sweetly. ‘But for the record, let’s have dinner here.’

  The corners of his mouth tilted with humour. ‘Delaying the togetherness thing?’

  She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. ‘How did you guess?’

  CHAPTER SIX

  THEY enjoyed a leisurely meal in a delightful restaurant where fine food and good wine made for a pleasant evening.

  Perhaps it was the goblet of wine which promoted a relaxed almost mellow mood, for it became easy for Romy to relay a few amusing anecdotes.

  ‘Lulubelle as a name might have sounded cute in Grade one,’ she reminisced with an impish smile. ‘But in Grade ten…it was an accident waiting to happen.’

  Xavier leaned back in his chair with the indolence of a man at ease. ‘So what did she end up with?’

  ‘Lu or Belle would have been OK, but Lube? Teenagers can be so mean.’

  ‘Eventually she would leave the scholastic system and set a precedent for whichever derivation she preferred.’

  ‘Agreed.’ Somehow she doubted anyone had dared shorten his name. ‘What about you?’

  ‘No.’

  She arched an eyebrow. ‘You didn’t acquire a nickname?’

  He had…a rude generic nickname he’d refused to tolerate, and he’d chosen to enforce his objection physically. A choice that had landed him in the principal’s office on a few occasions and brought him within a hair’s breadth of expulsion.

  ‘My past is well documented.’

  ‘Bad boy made good with a stellar rise to riches,’ she relayed with a tinge of cynical humour. ‘With little revelation about the bad stuff.’ He had the physical scars to prove just how close he’d come to the edge and she’d seen them, traced a gentle finger and touched her lips to each of them. And regarded him in silent incredulity when he’d downplayed the how, where and why.

  A time when she’d wanted to discover who he was beneath the sophisticated facade, to learn his deepest secrets and be the one in whom he’d confide.

  Except he’d made the journey alone and proved he didn’t need anyone. A lone warrior intent on shaping his own destiny.

  That he’d succeeded was media legend.

  Romy lapsed into silence as the car covered the distance to their resort, and it was after eleven when they entered their suite.

  It had been a pleasant day, and she said as much as she removed her jacket and toed off her shoes.

  When she turned, he was there, and her eyes widened as he captured her head between his hands and covered her mouth with his own.

  Gently, so gently it didn’t occur to her to deny him as his tongue explored the soft fullness, tasted, then began an erotic invasion that brought alive her wary emotions and sent them soaring.

  She tried to tell herself she didn’t want this, except she had no control over the sensations he evoked. No will to protest as his hand cupped her nape while the other slid down her back to lock her close against him.

  His arousal was a potent force, and her body quivered as he slid a hand beneath her jumper, caressed her skin, then slid up to cover her breast.

  A silent gasp rose and died in her throat as he stroked the tender peak until it hardened beneath his touch, and she arched in against him and lifted her arms high as they sought purchase at his nape.

  It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough, and she made no protest as his hands caught the hem of her jumper and lifted it free, then he discarded her bra with equal ease.

  ‘Xavier.’ His name was little more than a faint groan as it emerged from her throat, and he brushed his lips against her own.

  ‘No words,’ he bade her quietly. ‘Just feel.’

  And she did, giving in to the rapture pulsating through her body as it invaded every vein, each sensual crevice, until she became lost. His, so totally his, she barely sensed the removal of her clothes, and his, until he slid an arm beneath her knees and carried her to the bed.

  In one quick movement he dispensed with the bedcovers and drew her down onto the scented sheets.

  A generous lover, he took his time exploring each and every erogenous pleasure pulse, teasing with his fingers, his lips, until her body sang from his touch.

  It was more than she could bear, and she whimpered as she hovered on the brink, unaware the guttural cries begging for his possession came from her own lips.

  Then he was there, his mouth covering her own as he eased his length deep inside, felt her close around him, then he began to move, slowly at first until she joined his rhythm, spiralling high, so high it was all she could do to simply hold on as he tipped her over the edge…then he held her as she fell.

  Her heartbeat seemed off the Richter scale, and there wasn’t a word she was capable of voicing. As to moving, she doubted there was a muscle in her body that would respond to any command, mental or physical.

  She felt his lips brush her own, then settle in the sweet hollow at the edge of her neck, and the breath hitched in her throat as he trailed his lips over her collarbone and traced a pattern over the gentle swell of her breast.

  A faint groan emerged as a husky whisper as he sought a tender peak and suckled, teasing with his teeth before transferring his attention to render a similar salutation to its twin.

  She moved restlessly beneath his touch, felt him swell and harden deep inside her as he began to move with such infinite slowness, it took all her control not to urge him into a quicker pace.

  Then she felt the sensation build, bringing every sensual nerve into pulsating life.

  Oh, my god.

  She became a shameless wanton beneath his primitive touch. His.

  A slave to the sensual magic only he could gift her. Moisture welled in her eyes and spilled to run slowly across the top of each cheekbone and become lost in her hair.

  Xavier brushed his lips to her own, savoured them gently, then he carefully released her and drew her trembling body close in against his own.

  It was only on the edge of sleep that she realized what they’d shared had been all about her…her pleasure, her orgasmic release. She pressed her lips to his chest in silent gratitude and felt his arms tighten fractionally around her slender form.

  Romy woke to the sound of the shower running, and she burrowed her head beneath the pillow for a few minutes before emerging to check the time.

  Nine. She hadn’t slept this late since for ever…even at weekends.

  Naked, she discovered, beneath the bedcovers. A recollection as to why intruded as she experienced a vivid recall of the night, the sex…and how it had impacted on her senses. Her body, she added, as each movement provided an avid reminder of tender skin and the pull of little-used muscles.

  Dear heaven. A faint groan of despair whispered from her lips. So much for remaining cool and unaffected! Sex sans emotional engagement…with Xavier?

  What planet did she think she was on!

  In the background she became aware the running water in the shower had ceased, and she hurriedly cast aside the sheet, collected the first thing that came to hand which, she discovered, was Xavier’s shirt, and quickly dragged it on.

  It was huge: the rear hemline fell below her knees, and she could have wrapped the front edges twice round her slender frame.

  Her hair was a tumbled mess, and she finger-forked it back from her face as Xavier emerged from the bathroom, a towel hitched at his hips, and looking far too ruggedly attractive for his own good.

  No man she had ever met projected quite such a degree of raw sexuality. Primal heat lay just beneath the surface…an innate knowledge of what it took to gift women sexual pleasure.

  He reminded her of a jungle predator in its prime…honed musculature, the tread of a cat, and the heart of a warrior.

  ‘Are you done?’

  His light, teasing drawl jerked her back to the present, and warm colour tinged her cheeks.

  Three years ago, she’d have laughed wit
h delight, crossed to his side and pulled his head down to her own for a lingering kiss.

  Now she felt vaguely defensive, even slightly awkward, which was crazy, and she hugged her arms tightly together beneath her breasts as he crossed to her side.

  He touched a light finger to the pulse beating at the base of her throat and slid his hand to cup her cheek.

  ‘My shirt provides an interesting look.’ A smile widened his generous mouth as he traced a thumb-pad down to the corner of her lips. He lowered his head and brushed a fleeting kiss to her forehead. ‘You should have shared my shower.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  Did she have any idea how defenseless she appeared?

  There was a part of him that wanted to take her back to bed…to enjoy again what they’d experienced through the night. But it could wait.

  ‘Pity.’

  He was amused, dammit, and she stepped back from him, gathered up clean clothes, then escaped into the bathrooom.

  Beneath the pulsing water she closed her eyes against his image. If last night had proved anything, it was that there could be no going back. To fight against him would be an exercise in futility.

  Romy made liberal use of the rose-scented soap, then took her time rinsing off.

  How difficult could it be to immerse herself in work during the day, and enjoy the benefits of good sex at night?

  It was just a matter of emotional survival…hers.

  With determined resolve she closed the water dial, reached for a towel and began drying off.

  Ten minutes later she emerged into the bedroom attired in linen trousers and a V-necked jumper, her hair twisted into a knot atop her head, wearing minimal make-up and wedge-heeled sandals.

  Xavier glanced up from his laptop. ‘Do you want to order breakfast in, or shall we eat in the dining room?’

  ‘Dining room,’ Romy stated without hesitation and watched as he pressed save and closed down.

  She was hungry from all that expended energy, she decided ruefully as she tucked into fresh juice, strong black coffee and a cooked meal.

  ‘Brunch,’ she said when, almost replete, she bit into toast spread with marmalade.