by Janet Woods
She would have closed her hand around him in a caress but he prevented her by moving away. ‘Let’s get comfortable,’ he muttered, pulling the settee into the sleeping position. He turned and gazed at her, his face burnished by firelight. ‘Come here, Eloise.’
Ellie’s limbs suddenly refused to move and she stared into his anger-flecked eyes for what seemed a decade. Something inside her reached out for something in him, but all she found was emptiness.
His eyelids hooded, his hand reached out and she was jerked on to the bed. A tiny squeal of fear left her lips. He smiled as he straddled her. ‘Don’t be scared green-eyes. I won’t damage that pretty little body of yours.’
‘I’m not ... ready for this ... not like this,’ she pleaded, feeling the hardness of his against her stomach.
* * * *
‘I’m not a fool.’ His mouth gently feathered hers with kisses. ‘I’m going to drive you out of your mind first’ He smiled slightly. ‘When that happens you’ll be ready for anything. If you want out, say so.’
Patrick was as good as his word. It started as a journey of discovery. His hands and lips gently touched, explored, aroused in her a symphony of emotion. She’d never felt so languorous, so erotic, so rapturously awake to herself.
He’d started with the palms of her hands, still lying above her head where he’d left them. Gradually he’d teased his way down her body, and when she’d tried to touch him had taken the soft skin of her inner thigh between his teeth and warned.
‘Be still.’
How could she be still when every inch of her was on fire? She wanted to express her love, not be his play thing. She gritted her teeth and tried not to groan when he brushed his hand against her, claimed his right to invade her. Her buttocks tightened as she fought the urge to move against his hand. Then her thighs were parted, warm breath touched the soft center and she experienced intimate caressing little flicks. It was just enough to make her insides contract and release a rush of pent-up tension in one little gasp of pleasure.
Her disappointment when he moved was intense, but as she groaned in frustration he rolled her over on her front and knelt between her legs. His hands lazily massaged her back and buttocks until she was so relaxed she seemed to melt into the mattress. Then his hands moved under her and instinctively she rose to accommodate him. Excitement began to build up in her as she began to invite his caress. First her breasts, her stomach, and then ...? All of her seemed to explode when his arms cradled her hips and his fingers splayed between her thighs. His mouth caressed the sensitive hollow where her neck joined her shoulder.
‘Tell me you don’t want me, Eloise,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘Give me an excuse to let you escape.’
‘Mmmm.’ She was tempted to move against him as her excitement built. Not want him? She was nearly driven out of her mind with desire. The anticipation of his next move was so strong that the instant his fingers began their tentative exploration she gave a long gasping sigh. Passion shuddered through her.
‘Now,’ she begged.
Still he teased. Lifting her cradled hips against him he rocked gently against the moist invitation of her. She strained against the firm hands, her breath panting with the effort of trying to reach him. Just as she thought she might die from wanting she managed to circle his hips with her legs and anchor him to her.
She’d never made love like this before. Patrick was in total control, she helpless. Every erotic particle was condensed into one pulsating spot, every muscle begged the slow even stroke to quicken. Then she simply ceased to function. Each thrust became a deliberate punishment as he drove deeper and deeper, and his anger grew as his control weakened. She felt herself contract with wild longings as he quickened, her head tilted upwards and a quiet ecstatic groan left her lips.
It acted as a catalyst. Perspiration slicked her body as an orgasmic flood of feeling swept through her, making her cry out. She tightened her legs round him, kept him inside as his control was swept away in pounding race that only he could win. She started to tremble as an oath left his lips and they collapsed together on to the bed. A series of shudders racked his body, and then he rolled from her body, gathered her against him and buried his face in her hair.
Her hand went to his hair, caressed it as the wild beating of their combined hearts slowed, as the harsh rioting breath calmed. It seemed strange to her now, that they’d made love without her once being given the chance to touch him, to hold him in her arms.
‘Why, Patch?’ she whispered. ‘Why like that?’
His body stiffened, then he rolled away from her, propped himself up on one elbow and gazed thoughtfully down at her. ‘Are you telling me you didn’t enjoy every moment?’
‘He knew she wasn’t and her face began to burn. ‘I wanted to be part of it.’
‘You were.’ He smiled as his finger reached out and stroked one nipple into life. ‘You’re a sensational creature, Ellie. My brother will never know what he’s missed out on.’
The cry of rage she wanted to expel seized in her throat. He’d used her for one purpose only, and in such a way that she’d know she’d been used.
‘You’re loathsome, Patrick,’ she managed to whisper as she scrambled to her feet and gathered her clothes together.
She could feel his eyes on her as she made some semblance of dressing. She ignored him, her eyes searching the tension-filled perimeters of the room. Finally she was forced to ask. ‘Where did you throw my ring?’
‘I’ll find it in the morning if it means that much to you.’ He gave a mirthless chuckle. ‘Next time you come to my bed don’t insult me by wearing another man’s ring.’
‘There won’t be a next time.’ Crossing to the settee she gazed down at his relaxed naked figure. How could anyone so perfect to look at be so callous as to deliberately humiliate her in such a manner? Her smile contained all the contempt she felt for him. ‘I’ll see you in hell before I make myself the object of your scorn for another woman again.’
Tension tightened the angles of his face and his eyes widened.
‘As for the ring, yes, it means a lot to me. It belonged to my mother. It was her engagement ring.’
Struggling upright, shock came into his eyes. ‘Ellie–’
‘Don’t say another word.’ Turning her back on him she headed for the door, hoping he hadn’t noticed the tears choking her voice. ‘I deserved everything you dished out. I was a fool to imagine ... ’ A sob nearly strangled her as she closed the door on her words and whispered, ‘... that you were capable of loving me in return.
Chapter Seven
Unless she could manufacture an instant case of measles Ellie knew she’d have to eventually emerge from her room.
‘Not a chance.’ She gave her reflection an appraising glance. ‘You haven’t even got a freckle or two to boast about.’
She’d discovered a dozen reasons for staying in her room rather than face Patrick. Her nails needed a manicure, her chest of drawers tidying. The beds were messy enough to warrant a meticulous making and re-making, and now looked uncomfortably neat. She’d arranged her hair several times, and had tried on different outfits before settling on ribbed woolen ski pants and a thigh-length sweater in the same flaming red as her nail polish.
‘Your tongue’s hanging out for a cup of tea,’ she reminded herself now she’d run out of excuses. ‘Besides which, you’re wearing your battle colour. A Ram in red is a force to be reckoned with. That Scorpion male had better watch out.’
Sucking in a deep breath she marched towards the kitchen; an image of Patrick as an insect being crushed underfoot occupying her mind. It was almost an anti-climax to discover the kitchen empty except for the cat.
Damn - she’d psyched herself up for nothing since he wasn’t even out of bed! He must have spent the night tossing and turning, as she had.
A smile stretched her lips as she plotted the scene - Patrick wracked with guilt over the way he’d treated her. He’d fall on his knees and beg her forgiveness, tell
her his passion had turned him into a raging beast. He adored her, would spend the rest of his life making it up to her if only she’d become his wife. She in her turn would laugh in his face, spurn him.
The notion of revenge was replaced by a more pressing need and she reached for the kettle. Her revenge could wait until after her cup of tea and after he’d admitted the error of his ways. Dream on Ellie, she thought, her flight of fancy coming to an abrupt end. That could take several decades.
It wasn’t until she’d seated herself at he table that she saw the diamond ring and the six tiny silk-covered buttons. Her face suffused with color as her body taunted her with the fact she’d been his love-slave, not the other way round. A folded piece of paper addressed in thick black upright letters was propped against the sugar bowl. Eloise. The writing resembled saber-slashes. It was almost alive with power, ready to rise from the page and cut her into pieces. The avenging angel strikes again! She managed a wry grin. The devil himself would quake in his boots at the thought of meeting Patrick.
Her hand shook as she cautiously flipped the note open, and she cursed her vivid imagination. What was she expecting, sparks - a curl of smoke? It was disappointingly domestic. All it contained was a terse message to say he’d gone to inspect the creek, would start on the kitchen after lunch, and the electricity was now back to normal.
She picked up the ring and examined the brilliant stone for signs of damage before sliding it back on her finger. There was none. It was still as flawless as the day it had been placed on her mother’s finger.
Her father’s marriage proposal had been made over a candle-lit dinner. Her mother had been wearing a white chiffon dress and had flowers in her hair. She’d been twenty years old, her father thirty. When her father had described the scene he’d smiled. ‘She knew I’d be lonely without her so she gave me a very special gift in you when she left.’
The ring had been a token of her father’s undying love. He’d never married again, and if there had been women in his life Ellie had never known about them. Tears pricked her eyes. Tearing the ring from her finger she hurried to her bedroom and placed it carefully in its faded green velvet box. She now felt unworthy of the sentiment attached to it.
For a few seconds she gazed out of the window before the fact registered that the rain had stopped. Not only that, the sun was shining and the birds singing. No it wasn’t a chorus of birds, it was the telephone ringing. The telephone! Coming out of her reverie she headed for the kitchen at a run. Thing were looking up.
‘It was her house mate. Things were definitely looking up. ‘Is everything all right, Anne? Why aren’t you in the shop? Are you sick?’
‘I am at the shop.’ Anne laughed. ‘And yes, everything is fine. I’ve been trying to get through to see if you were okay. I heard about the storm on the radio. I was worried about you being on your own. You left your phone on your dressing table.’
‘Yes, I know.’ Even though Patrick was out Ellie lowered her voice. ‘In actual fact I’m not alone. The house was being painted when the creek flooded and–’
‘Don’t tell me you got stranded with that blonde hunk you had your eye on? Of all the luck.’
‘Not exactly ... I got stranded with his brother.’
‘What’s he like?’
‘All right I suppose.’ Her reluctance to discuss Patrick with her friend surprised Ellie. The calm gentle Anne was usually the first person she turned to for advice. ‘He has his son with him. Todd’s four, he’s a darling.’
Anne laughed again. ‘Well at least you’ve found a child to dote on. You really should have one of your own, Ellie. If you ask me it’s a pity that boyfriend of yours didn’t let his heart rule his head now and again.’
‘I’m glad he didn’t.’ Ellie shuddered. ‘When I have children I want them to grow up with two parents.’
‘You didn’t do too badly brought up by one,’ Anne pointed out.
‘I had the security of knowing my parents loved each other.’ She sighed. ‘Even so there were times when I desperately wished I had a mother to talk to. Still do as a matter of fact.’
The hair prickled on the back of her neck as she caught a movement in the corner of her eye. She turned to see Patrick at the door. Her heart gave a giant leap as his eyes caught hers. Such was his impact that the breath left her body in one big rush, leaving her weak and dizzy. She took in a gulp of air to replace her depleted supply. ‘I’ve got to go now, Anne.’
‘You sound odd, Ellie. Is something wrong?’
How could his eyes be so shuttered? What thoughts were hidden in their midnight depths? Patrick’s eyes could be as soft as velvet or as hard and bright as sapphire. Now they were so guarded that all his thoughts and feelings were locked inside.
‘Ellie?’
‘Yes, everything’s fine, Anne,’ she heard herself say, her eyes still locked with Patrick’s.
She wished she could get inside his head. Did he feel anything about what had happened between them? Regret? Guilt perhaps? Did he think her cheap? Was he plotting his next move?
Heat throbbed through her. Whatever she’d said about there not being a next time was meaningless when her juices boiled in her body at the very sight of him. The air was so charged between them she ached with the tension.
‘Thanks for ringing, Anne. I’ll call you in a day or so.’
Her voice was an actor, delivering perfectly banal lines in a perfectly normal voice. Never let the opposition think they’ve got the upper hand. Her father’s advice.
‘Good morning, Patch.’ Smile, she ordered her lips.
The corner of his mouth twitched slightly in return, his eyes remained guarded. ‘I didn’t think you’d be inclined to speak to me this morning.’
‘Didn’t you?’ Her shrug was as offhand as she could make it, her eyes as guarded as his. She’d been dreading this moment. Now it was here she wasn’t going to let him off easy. ‘Why did you think that?’
‘Don’t try and back me into a corner, Ellie. You know damned well why.’
She could almost admire his deviousness. Patrick was trying to convince himself there was no emotion involved in what had happened. Did he really believe it had been nothing more than sexual gratification between two consenting adults - that it could be dismissed and forgotten about? Think again, Patch Morgan. Being brought up by a man taught me a lot about the male ego. Try this for size.
‘I’m adult enough to admit your inventive style of love-making was entirely satisfying.’ She gave a mocking grin as his eyes flew open. ‘What’s the matter, Patch? Have I shocked you by telling you what an accomplished lover you are?’
‘It was unexpected.’ A pulse leapt to life in his throat has his glance carefully swept her face. ‘But you’re not exactly conventional, are you?’
‘Define conventional for me.’
‘You know exactly what I mean.’ His voice was becoming exasperated. ‘You don’t fit the conventional female image. You can’t cook, are outspoken, offbeat, argumentative. Since when did women repair the plumbing or admit they enjoyed ...’
‘Kinky sex?’ She laughed. ‘All women have fantasies. Be honest, Patrick. Would you rather I lied about it?’
‘I could probably handle it better,’ he said dryly. The grin appeared on his face. ‘If you want honesty, I’ll admit to the concept being a turn-on.’
‘Don’t get too turned on,’ she said hastily. If he took her words literally she could be in serious trouble. ‘I meant what I said last night.’
‘That it won’t happen again?’ His eyes narrowed a fraction as two steps closed the gap between them. The bruise around his eye had faded, she noticed, trying to ignore the mental images the aroma of his after-shave evoked. The deep clear blue of his eyes were accentuated by incredibly long dark lashes. The amusement in them was almost unbearable. ‘Unfortunately, my sexy little witch, you seem to have unleashed the beast in me.’
‘Control it.’ Trembling from the close proximity, her voice was a barely
audible whisper.
His admission was a compliment of sorts. This was a man who’d been celibate for some time, who’d had no intention of getting involved with a woman. Ellie shivered as he gently blew a strand of hair away from her face. Nature itself seemed to have aided and abetted his downfall.
His lips slid against her cheeks like a whisper of silk. Why had she allowed herself to fall in love with him, to make herself available? Now he wanted to possess her, to use her body to quiet the beast she’d unleashed.
She seemed to have no willpower. Her lips were already parting eagerly to capture his mouth, his teasing tongue, her breasts tilting against his rough muscular chest like ripened berries. An ache of longing grabbed like a thief at the spot he’d plundered, leaving her moist.
‘Tell me your fantasies, Eloise,’ he murmured against her lips. ‘Tonight I’ll try and satisfy them all.’
He was playing with her, sure of himself - of her. Hadn’t she been through all this before, with David? Only Patrick was being more honest with his intentions. He wanted her body, nothing more. And if she didn’t put a stop to it he’d get it - right here in the kitchen!
Placing her mouth against his ear she murmured the one word that would stop his advances. She was pushed to arms length. The amusement in his eyes was followed in quick succession by wariness, disbelief, then utter shock. The fact that she’d predicted his reaction in advance brought no comfort. The grin she gave mocked them both, and aided in his recovery if the ironic smile he gave was anything to go by.
* * * *
‘I had a little therapeutic sex in mind, not marriage.’ The warm imprints of his hands began to cool as arms dropped to his side. ‘Besides ... didn’t your aunt predict a Libran?’
So why had she fallen for a Scorpio? And why had Aunt Vera wanted them to meet? Ellie tried not to smile as the answer came into her mind.
