Secrets and Seductions

by Jane Beckenham

  She reached for his arousal and wrapped her hands around it. “I think it’s time we got down to business, don’t you think?” She laughed and gave him a wink.

  Leah couldn’t believe she’d said such a thing, acted so brazenly. But it felt good. Natural.

  “Absolutely.” Mac reached for a condom from the bedside cabinet and sheathed himself expertly.

  Leah’s eyes widened. The thought of protection hadn’t even crossed her mind, her body too hot and her need too strong. Oh Lordy! What was wrong with her?

  She was beyond thinking, that’s what.

  She smiled and lifted her arms in a welcoming gesture, waiting for the heaviness of his body against hers. Thankfully, he obliged.

  Nothing mattered except Mac holding her. She scraped the tips of her nails down the length of his back and felt his shudder against her, a testament to his heightened state.

  “So beautiful. So perfect,” he murmured as he dotted sweet kisses along her throat.

  Leah wasn’t sure she really heard him. Her body and brain didn’t seem connected, the renewed coiled tension of a burgeoning release her only focus. Mac’s mouth silenced any reply as he kissed her over and over till her body craved a breath. Yet still she wanted more of him, the feel of his hardness inside her, branding her, addictive as any drug.

  In turn, he suckled at each nipple once more, then he fulfilled her dreams. He slipped inside her, full and potent, their coming together so total, with an urgency that burned deep, until release came in an explosive burst as Mac reached orgasm, and she followed a moment later.

  A breathless Mac whispered against her ear, “Open your eyes, Leah. Open them for me, so I can see your soul.”

  His request shocked her, scared her.

  Should she? Could she? Dare she?

  Holding her breath, she fluttered her eyelids open and then was held instantly by exactly what she knew to be mirrored in hers.

  True desire. Mac’s desire.

  She had just made love to Mac.

  Made love.

  Two silent words that held her spellbound.

  Mac’s chest heaved, and his heart thudded a frenetic dance. He dragged in oxygen, desperate to quiet not only his ragged breathing but also the condemnation screaming inside his brain.

  What the hell had he done?

  Succumbed to pleasure. That’s what.

  And he was damned, because now he knew irrefutably he’d never be able to walk away. Or look into Leah’s eyes and be able to say no, or not remember this very moment.

  Part of him chastised his stupidity for letting his libido rule his brain, while the other part, the part fired by simply looking at Leah, desired her again. And again. Would his lust for her ever be quenched?

  Sensuality colored every inch of her face. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her, and who was he to deny them both?

  But did he trust her? Or himself?

  She lay facing him, a drop of perspiration balanced above her top lip. All he could focus on was that droplet. He wanted to lick it. Taste it. Taste her again. Oh, sweet Jesus, he was a goner.

  She tilted her head a fraction. “You’re staring.”

  “Hard not to after such a great entrée.”

  Her brow creased, but that single crystal bead stayed exactly where it was and tempted him beyond redemption.

  He cursed silently. He was beyond redeeming. What would she say or do if she knew he wouldn’t give up, that custody papers were ready and waiting? All he had to do was sign them.

  “Food?” She chuckled with mock horror. “You’re thinking of food.”

  Mac exhaled a steadying breath. Keep cool. Keep quiet. “I’m thinking of a different kind of food,” he said and leaned in, giving in to temptation, the need to brush his lips across hers far too strong. Finally, he licked at that little bead of pleasure. He trailed a finger down her heated cheek, and her trembling response confirmed what he knew to be true. “There’s a color in your eyes, the darkest green that fires every time I kiss you, touch you. Did you know that?”

  Her lips parted.

  “See,” he said, “you want me to kiss you.”

  She laughed at that, a sweet tinkling sound of pure joy. It delighted him. It was good she smiled, and laughed; it touched a piece of him he had buried a long time ago, forgotten was ever there.

  “You’re very sure of yourself, Mac Grainger.”

  “I’m sure of your response,” he countered, followed by a caress from her nape and inching down between her breasts, then lower. He got the exact reaction he wanted.

  Her eyes closed tight as his fingers traveled lower. He cupped her wetness, enjoyed the feel of her shivers beneath his hand. “See. Told you so. There’s no use fighting it. Neither of us can.”

  Heavy lids opened. “Ah…but two can play this game.” And with the softest of touches, her fingers wrapped around his penis.

  Mac tensed, unable to stifle a shuddering groan. “Who said it was a game? I’m deadly serious. Mind you, I’ll play with you anytime.”

  “Glad to hear it. Now…” She whipped her hand from beneath the bed covers where it had been doing devilishly sinful things to his anatomy, then propped herself up on one elbow and splayed it on his chest. “Lie back, sir, and think of England.”

  “I can think of far more exciting things to think about.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you can. So let me see if those things can match this.” And with a tiny push, the woman he had earmarked as cold and calculating did those very exciting things to him she promised, starting with his mouth and working her way down, all in a slow motion that nearly sent him over the edge.

  “Oh no you don’t,” she said more than once. “Not yet.” Then she’d change tactic, teasing another part of him to distraction where he craved release. When he thought he would explode, she suddenly stopped. “Playtime’s over,” she said.

  Mac heaved a relieved sigh. “’Bout time. You trying to kill me?”

  “Perhaps.” She angled herself over him, and he slid into her. They were one. Her thighs tightened around his hips, holding him to her as he thrust deeper into her core.

  Sun-drenched russet curls fell in a glorious tangle across her pearlescent skin. His fingers tangled with them. “Lady Godiva,” he murmured as he brushed aside a silken veil to cup one breast.

  She bent and kissed him, taking from him more than he realized he had to offer, drawing his hips from the bed as his thrusts became rampant, blatantly ready for release. She took all of him. Suddenly, a rippling peal of pleasure flew from her lips, and her body spasmed, one orgasm following another until his release joined hers.

  This wasn’t meant to be happening. This total release. Making love.

  Leah slumped forward, her breasts cradled against his chest, the fall of her hair hiding her eyes.

  No, don’t hide them, he wanted to say. He wanted to see her eyes, her soul, see if she felt the same as he had—for the second time.

  He felt good. More than that: total.

  But there was one thing her luxurious hair could not hide—her smile.

  Trouble was, seeing that, his conscience kicked into overdrive. How could he destroy that smile and remind her they’d forgotten protection?

  Chapter Seven

  As if she carried a built-in alarm clock, Leah woke with the first rays of dawn. For a moment, her hazy vision matched the inaction in her brain.

  “Morning, sleepyhead.”

  A gasp hit the back of her throat, and she bolted upright. Mac lay beside her, the sheet barely covering anything. In fact, all he wore was a smile that did weirdly wonderful things to her the moment she saw it.

  “Nice to know I can take your breath away.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  Unlinking muscled arms from behind his head, he pushed himself up on one elbow, angling his unclad body toward her. “I seem to remember this is my bedroom.”

  “Your…” Oh, dear Lord. A bold and brassy heat raced at breakneck speed to
the tips of her toes. Her brain may not have woken, but her hormones reacted with unbridled abandon to the man lying beside her. She scooted back on the king-size bed until she rested at the very edge.

  His shadowed gaze slid from her face, downward and then farther. She followed it.

  The sheet had unfortunately not moved with her, and to his obvious delight, her breasts were bared. She yanked it back in place.

  “Spoilsport.”

  She snorted and waved a single hand at him as if swatting at a fly. “You need to go.” Cover up. Get dressed. Anything, but lie there beautifully naked.

  “Me? Why?”

  “Because…” Every single word seemed to tangle with her tongue. Nothing made sense. She wanted him gone, but her body wanted him right where he was, beside her, with her. “I need to get up, get showered. Charlee…”

  “Is sound asleep. I checked on her a while back.”

  “You did?” Surprise and delight warmed Leah. Curtis never offered to check on his daughter.

  “Sure, sleeping like a baby,” he reiterated. “But you’re awake, and it’s still early and got me thinking we could have a lazy morning together.”

  Leah hitched the sheet a few inches higher, and Mac’s mouth quirked up at one corner.

  Tanned skin, muscled to perfection. Adonis came to mind. Good grief, she’d had sex with Adonis.

  No, not sex. Made love with him.

  Eyes that had turned from the darkest of chocolate to almost ebony sparkled with the light of diamonds at her, his mouth, so beautiful that she wanted to kiss it right now, curved at the corners. He turned on his side so he faced her, and the sheet slipped completely off.

  Her eyes widened as she gazed southward. Mac wanted her, there was no doubt, and Leah knew for dead certain she was ready to jump his bones.

  Darn it, things were getting way out of hand. “Sex. You want sex.”

  So do you!

  “Sounds good to me.”

  She poked the tip of her middle finger in the centre of his chest. “Don’t be so sure of yourself, Mac Grainger.”

  He laughed then, a deep, belly laugh. “You couldn’t get enough of me.” That was the problem. He told the truth. She lusted after him…badly.

  But a moment of doubt captured her in its web. Was it him, she wondered? Or could it have been any man, perhaps a reaction to the shock of losing her house, her life? Didn’t they say that after disasters, people reacted to the adrenaline differently? And she had sure reacted. Just thinking about those reactions heated her blood to fever pitch.

  For a moment, her gaze lingered on him, watching the play of desire color his expression. There was nothing pure about that expression. It burned for her.

  “Sweetheart, I am right.”

  She wanted to ask him if that were always the case but knew the answer would be a definite yes. Mac Grainger had risen to the top of the business world in a short time. Hard hitting and determined, he took no prisoners.

  He nodded toward the edge of the bed where she balanced. “There’s nowhere to go, except the floor. Mind you, that could offer some unique experiences. Or,” he said, offering her a wink, “you could come closer.”

  “Or I can leave,” she countered.

  “But you don’t want to.”

  True.

  Then close became so close his breath scalded her skin. His lips touched hers. Nothing else. No skin touching skin. It reminded her of what she really wanted.

  Just one kiss, she told herself. That was all. Then she’d skedaddle from his bed and take solace in the sanctuary provided by distance.

  Fool! She shouldn’t have listened to herself. One kiss and she became his.

  Mac’s hands circled her waist, and he pulled her to him so that she lay along the length of him. Time didn’t matter anymore. Only bodies, theirs, together. Nothing could douse the frantic passion as he joined her and began to dot tiny kisses along her ribs.

  “So how about this?” He breathed a heated sigh across her skin.

  Leah inhaled. She wanted to giggle; instead, her stomach rumbled, and Mac stopped his ministrations, humor-filled eyes glittering up at her.

  “Sounds like you need food, not kisses.” He tossed the bedcovers back and stood, unembarrassed by his masculine glory. “Come on.”

  Leah couldn’t help but stare. Naked, Mac Grainger was supreme. “Oil drilling obviously did you proud,” she quipped, refusing to look away.

  “True, it’s a hard life, but the boardroom offers another kind of battle,” he said as he absently brushed the fingers of his right hand across his left hand.

  Leah’s eyes widened. “Your hand.”

  Scars littered his hand, whitened ridges crisscrossing over tanned flesh.

  “An accident,” he said, his tone suddenly curt. His hand dropped away, and the desire reflected in eyes only moments ago disappeared, replaced by a dark sadness. Concern tempered Leah’s confusion. Why hadn’t she seen the scars before?

  Because hands weren’t what she’d actually been looking at. They also wore work gloves in the grove, so the scars had been covered.

  “What happened?”

  “I got distracted. Love and lust do that to you.”

  What love? Who? “I’m sorry.” She reached out to him, but he shifted away.

  “Yeah, well, it’s a long time ago now.” His mouth thinned, but in the next breath, it was almost as if he had to tell her, the horror softening his face and the color in his eyes. “There was an explosion,” he explained. “I wasn’t where I should have been. I got hurt. Others died.”

  “Oh, dear God.”

  He sank onto the bed, head dropped into his hands, and she reached out to touch him, soothe him, but again he shook off her act of compassion.

  “God wasn’t there that day, and neither was I.” He turned to her, a wash of bitterness marring his beautiful face. “I should have been.” Shoving himself up from the bed as if burned by the memories, he cursed, dragging his scarred hand across his eyes, then through his tousled hair. Leah wished it were her hand touching him, caressing, soothing, but with each word Mac uttered, he distanced himself just that little bit more from her.

  “Love got in the way. That’s why I don’t do love. Why business is better. Love means responsibilities, and I failed.”

  “Is this why you’re here now?” No matter the consequences, she thought. Mac was trying to correct a perceived wrong.

  But he didn’t answer. Instead, he strode into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. He shut her out.

  Leah stared at the closed door and cried silent tears. Not just for Mac’s injuries, but for his pain that she couldn’t fix.

  Hearing the start of the shower, she took the opportunity to scamper from the bed, glancing back one more time at the tousled sheets. Her cheeks burned, and she scooted out of that room and hunted out her toweling robe, then slipped into it and yanked the belt tight.

  Instead of heading to the kitchen, she paused at Charlee’s bedside and reached out to brush a strand of hair from her daughter’s cheek. Her heart ached with love. Thank God she was safe. Things could have been so different.

  But it was her stomach’s protesting its need for sustenance once more that forced her back to reality, and she ventured into the kitchen.

  Coffee. Food. In that order. She’d deal with Mac later.

  But that wasn’t to happen. The moment she turned the corner into the large open-plan kitchen, she walked slap-bang into him. He stood at the stove, a spatula in hand, a tea towel tucked into his jeans.

  He was barefooted. She directed her gaze away from his feet…again.

  He glanced at her over his shoulder, and the remoteness she’d seen in his eyes not too long ago had disappeared. “Coffee is on, and the eggs are ready. Do you want toast?”

  Leah inhaled a waft of freshly brewed coffee and the fragrance of buttered toast. “Yes, please.” She took a seat at the kitchen table while Mac finished the eggs and poured her a coffee. She watched him wo
rk, his movements sure and precise, and found herself mentally tracing the white lacerations across his hand. Her heart ached for his pain and his guilt.

  After placing a plate in front of her, he sat opposite, and Leah’s pulse erupted into a flurry of haphazard beats.

  He smelt good. Clean and tempting.

  Darn it, why couldn’t the guy just go to work?

  “I’ve ordered some clothes to be sent up for you and Charlee, and there’s a rental car downstairs for you to use.” Leah bristled, but he cut off her answer before she uttered a syllable. “You can forget the ‘I can look after myself’ routine.”

  Despite wanting to argue back, she said nothing, her focus completely captured by his chin and what she’d like to do to the tiny bead of butter dribbling down it.

  Subtlety wasn’t possible, each aware of the other, yet neither mentioning what had happened in the bedroom. He watched her watching him, the tip of his tongue sliding along his lips, wiping the butter away and taking her fantasy with it. But then the fantasy returned as he sucked the tip of a buttery finger…and watched her.

  Leah’s heart stalled. Breathing didn’t exist. Only Mac and his finger and the erotic image her mind replayed. Dear God, she was drowning in need.

  Suddenly, his lips slid in to a knowing smirk, and he pushed his plate aside. “Right, time for work.” The sound of chair legs scraping across the tiled floor dissolved her fantasy. Mac stood, began to speak but seemingly changed his mind. Then he was gone. No good-bye. No kiss. Just left her with memories of his hands skimming across her body, holding her. Memories of making love. But while they’d spent the night in each other’s arms, they were really still strangers.

  With Mac gone, Leah showered and dressed, then went through the clothes Mac ordered for her and Charlee, surprised he’d got her size right. Surely he must have checked the labels of her smoke-ridden clothes? But then perhaps it was because he knew her body so intimately. He had traced every inch of her.

  Oh Lordy. Just thinking it did seriously shameful things to her body.

  This had to stop. Right now. It was one mistake, not to be repeated.