by Mel Teshco
He cocked a blond brow, the insinuation going right over his head. “I’m just glad to see you happy.”
She blinked hazily up at him. Damn, he was almost as tall as Mackenzie. A pity that’s where any similarity ended. Mackenzie wasn’t just a suited god with a charisma to match, he knew exactly what to say at the right time; knew precisely how to please her. She managed a smile. “Have I been that much of a sour-puss?”
“No.” He stared at her, as though transfixed. “You’ve just looked incredibly sad.” He leaned toward her, and she stood her ground even as she mentally backed away. She’d hoped this once a man had simply wanted to help her out, without expecting anything in return. She’d been wrong.
“Don’t do this, Claire.”
The barman jerked back before she had a chance to reject his advances. Goose bumps peppered her arms and need pooled deep in her womb as she slowly turned to face the one man she truly did want.
She swallowed hard. Mackenzie looked fiercely handsome in his dark jeans and leather jacket. But even with her eyes not quite focused and her mind not functioning at its best, she was conscious that his face was drawn, with dark shadows under his brilliant stare.
Somehow she wasn’t surprised to see him here, not when she’d been so restless and aware all day. Perhaps she would have sensed him if not for her excessive drinking.
Mackenzie’s stare glittered as he stared at her and then glanced at the barman. His mouth thinned when he turned back to her. “Or should I call you Scarlet again now?”
She swayed, feeling fragile and fighting back sudden tears. “I thought you were better than that,” she whispered. God, this man really did have the power to hurt her. She managed to lift her chin. “What does it matter anyway? We’re not together. You’re not even my client anymore.”
The dawning comprehension on the barman’s face might have been funny under any other circumstances. Except now he’d judge her in a whole new light. She squeezed her eyes shut for a second, fighting for composure.
The barman was the least of her concerns.
Mackenzie’s eyes darkened even as they glowed, much like the twilight beginning to settle around them. “If you care anything at all for me, you won’t go inside with that man tonight.”
She frowned, making sense of his words even though her mind was muddled. “Is that really what you thought was going to happen?”
But of course it was. She’d been a call girl. Did she really expect him to believe better of her now even though she’d left that industry?
The barman put out his hands. “Look, I don’t know what is going on with you two and it’s probably none of my business.” He turned to Mackenzie. “But I’m guessing you’re the reason this gorgeous lady’s been so sad.” He shook his head. “Looks like you’ve got a lot of making up to do.”
Claire blinked. She hadn’t expected that. Just like she hadn’t expected Mackenzie’s devotion. Except he’d always been her biggest supporter, and though he’d wanted her all to himself, he’d never cheapened her or made her feel less of a person.
She exhaled in a rush, her belly tightening with nausea. How had she messed things up so badly?
*
The roaring in Mackenzie’s ears settled into a low-level drone as the barman walked away. He’d been prepared to fight for Claire, but he’d stayed cool and in control. In fact, most of his anger had been directed at himself.
He’d been a damn fool. Not just for allowing her to walk away from him the first time, but for then being the one who’d walked out on her.
He’d had long talks with her sisters, and uncovered much of Claire’s past and many of her issues. He’d needed all the ammunition and knowledge he could glean in order to win her back.
Not only had she lost her mother and raised her sisters, she’d faced abandonment by her own father. She’d grown up believing men were faithless and dishonorable. And she’d managed those beliefs by getting paid by those same faithless men, taking care of her sisters and debts at the same time.
Not that Claire’s career had exactly been a win–win. She’d been treading a fine line, a balancing act that left no room for error. His being with Claire had destabilized her, shaken her convictions. Little wonder she’d run the first time. His leaving her the second time had probably convinced her she’d been right about men all along.
But he was here now to prove, once and for all, that her theories of him and men in general were skewed. Everyone had faults and no-one was perfect. Yes, there were bad and selfish men—and women—in the world. But there were also many more good men with generous hearts who wanted nothing more than to find their soulmate. To make that woman their wife, and to have kids, a family.
Men like him.
Claire groaned, clutched at her belly and swayed. He strode forward, tucking one arm around her waist to keep her balanced, his other hand smoothing back the strands of hair that’d been loosened by her swim.
When she subsided against him, he asked gently, “Are you okay?”
She shook her head, her profile porcelain pale. “Not really.”
He guided her inside. Closing the front door behind them, he headed down a short hallway to where he guessed the bathroom was located. A shower would sober her up. She didn’t say a word as he unclipped her bikini top and pulled down its bottom.
He swallowed, doing all he could not to react to her nakedness, if only his body listened. He wasn’t in the habit of getting a hard-on for someone drunk, even if that someone was the same beautiful woman he was in love with.
He turned on the taps a little more forcefully than necessary before Claire stepped under the heat. She swayed, and when her legs buckled, he reached into the stall to keep her balanced, before he stepped inside with her, fully dressed.
Holding her steady with one hand, he unclipped her hair and reached for the shampoo. Her breasts mashed against his drenched shirt and jacket. He gritted his teeth and ignored the rush of blood to his dick.
Bloody hell. It was going to be a long night.
Everything he wanted to tell her would now have to wait until the morning.
Chapter Fourteen
‡
Claire woke with her body cramping with rebellion and her memory fuzzy around the edges. She inhaled deep, a thrill riding through her. Even without Mackenzie’s dark-spiced cologne on her pillow, she remembered enough to know he was here.
He’d held her in his arms last night, no expectations, no whispered promises, nothing but the emotional support she’d craved. And going by the indent on the mattress, he hadn’t long been out of bed.
She sat at hearing his familiar tread, the scent of coffee and toast pervading her nostrils as she stared blearily at him. Damn. At this time of morning no-one had the right to look that healthy and fresh, not to mention sexy as hell.
He placed a tray beside her, his eyes warm. “Toast with vegemite, and coffee, black and strong.”
She fought back sudden nausea even as her belly grumbled. “You really are my knight in shining armor.” Her eyes widened as she finally noticed his clothes … or lack of them. Not that he didn’t wear his boxer briefs and black T-shirt perfectly well.
He smirked. “My clothes got a little wet last night when it looked like you might pass out in the shower.” He shrugged. “My jeans are still in the dryer and my leather jacket … I don’t know that it’ll ever recover. Guess I should be grateful I decided to wear something under my jeans for travelling.”
She pressed a hand to her mouth, vague recollections returning to her of him holding her while hot water pummelled down. “God, you must think I’m the biggest idiot.”
His grin faded, his eyes turning serious. “Confused. Frightened. Wary. Yes. An idiot—never.” He passed her the toast. “Here, take a bite. It will make you feel better.”
She nodded, then chewed and swallowed. “How did you know where to find me?”
“Your sisters were quite forthcoming.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “I kne
w you needed a bit of time to yourself first. And I needed to sort out a hundred and one business commitments to have some time off. Once that was done I arranged a private charter from Sydney to Hamilton Island before taking a ferry here.”
She sucked down some scalding coffee, needing the caffeine fix like nothing else. She looked up. “You really don’t give up easily, do you?”
“Not for the woman I want. Not without a fight.” He exhaled softly. “I almost lost you once, I was a fool to think I could let you go a second time.”
Warmth pooled in her belly. For a shrewd and clever man he sure took his time accepting the truth. “You must know you’re nothing like your father.”
He nodded. “Yes. I just … lost it when I saw Bradley forcing himself on you.” His hands fisted at the memory. “I wanted to kill him.”
Her heart melted for him. “You’re human, and you wanted to protect me. I’m grateful you feel that way about me.”
His eyes darkened. “I feel that way and a whole lot more.”
She swallowed. “Even though I’ve slept with other men for money?”
“Claire, I’ve paid you and other women for sex. Do you really think I care about any of that?” He shook his head. “I only care about you … about us.” His voice lowered. “About our future.”
Warmth swept through her body, but she ignored the rising elation for just a little longer, and placed her mug of coffee onto the bedside table. “Why me? I mean, you could have any woman you wanted.”
“And you could have any man you wanted,” he said huskily. He blew out a breath. “I watched you most of the day yesterday, biding my time and waiting for the right moment to approach. I felt like a starved man watching prey.”
She smiled at the imagery. “I think I sensed you.”
He arched a dark brow. “I thought you might have been too busy deflecting men everywhere you went.” He leaned forward, his hand clasping her chin, his thumb rubbing back and forth. “You’re an incredibly beautiful woman, Claire. I can’t blame men for wanting what I want so damn badly too.”
“And when I get older and my beauty fades?” she whispered. “What then?”
Would he abandon her like her father had abandoned her mother?
“You’ll still be beautiful in my eyes.” He bent and kissed her gently, then murmured, “We’ll grow old together, with thousands of photos showing off our youth.”
She reached out to put her toast next to her abandoned coffee mug. “Are you saying you want to grow old with me?”
He nodded, lying next to her on the bed and cupping the back of her head with one hand, his other moving up to trace her lips as he murmured huskily, “I want that more than anything else.”
She blinked up at him, her eyes wide and heart thudding with thrilling hope. His entire body sang with honesty, his warm embrace telling her she had nothing more to fear. Nothing more to run from. He wasn’t going anywhere. It was all up to her now.
He waited patiently, before she nodded and said, “I want that too.”
His eyes lit up even as they darkened with desire, with joy. Then he was kissing her, his big body moving to cover hers. Her lashes fluttered and her womb heated. God, it’d been too long since she’d made love. Mackenzie’s mouth stayed on hers as he peeled the bedcover and sheet back, allowing her to hook her ankles behind his waist.
He swallowed her quiet exhalation. She was desperate to feel his slick heat against her skin, impatient to have the hard length of his cock between her thighs.
He tore away only long enough to tug off his shirt and his boxer briefs. His back muscles rippled with the motion, his bared buttocks flexing. Then his mouth was all over hers again, his cock thick and strong against her belly, his chest rubbing against her soft breasts and hardening nipples.
Heat rippled through her body, moisture dewing between her thighs. She needed him so badly. Every cell was attuned to him, her nerve endings dancing with desire. Even her breaths in and out were heated. Like she existed just for these moments with Mackenzie.
He pushed a finger into her, ensuring she was wet for him. She closed her eyes on a shuddering breath, squirming beneath him. Need, want, yearning, desire … it was all she could think about.
Her eyes popped open when he centered his cock between the petals of her sex and didn’t move any further. “Mack … don’t stop now,” she groaned.
But, though passion radiated off him in waves, determination was just as powerful. “Do you want me in your bed for the rest of your life?” he half-growled, a vein throbbing in his brow at the restraint.
She dug her nails into his forearms. He chose now to make her answer such a serious question? But of course he did. She wouldn’t hold back on an answer when she was ten seconds away from glorious fulfilment. “Yes, Mack. Yes, I do.”
Something glinted behind his stare. Satisfaction. Relief. Joy. And then his hips drove forward and his cock filled her to the limit, and all she could think about was their joining. Not just physically. It was as if their hearts and their souls had joined too.
She whimpered, overwhelmed with emotion.
Sex with other men had been nothing more than a physical connection. Every sexual encounter with Mackenzie had gone beyond simple intimacy. But it’d never been this powerful, this hyper-aware and exhilarating.
He paused. “You feel it too?” he asked hoarsely.
She swallowed, and nodded. “Yes.”
He kissed her then, their joining even more emphatic. She didn’t fight it, didn’t want to rebel against this absolute rightness, this feeling of being whole for once in her life.
He released her mouth only as he took up an ever-increasing rhythm that she counter-matched stroke for stroke. His burning eyes held hers as she inhaled sharply, balancing on the precipice. She fell apart in a rush of exhalation, toppling into nirvana and into the arms of a fierce climax.
He closed his eyes and threw his head back, groaning as he climaxed, his seed shooting long and deep.
He didn’t draw away from her, instead he kept his weight on his forearms and stayed connected and watched her slowly come back to earth. “Tell me you meant every word,” he said hoarsely.
She blinked up at him, her whole body drowsy and sated, with not even an inkling of sickness churning her belly. “I meant every word.” She smiled up at him. “Mack, is this your way of proposing?”
He smiled back, his eyes gleaming with emotion. “It wasn’t exactly the way I’d meant to do it—the ring I had designed is in the pocket in my jacket—but yes, it is my way of proposing.” His thumb traced over her lips, his voice serious as he asked, “Claire, will you marry me, and make me the happiest man alive?”
Her smile turned into a face-stretching grin. “Yes, Mack. I’d like nothing more than to make you the happiest man alive by marrying you.”
He kissed her with a tenderness that touched her deeply, before he said huskily, “I love you, Claire.”
She blinked, her heart swelling with emotion. “And I love you, Mackenzie Smitherson.” She bit her bottom lip. “Just one thing.”
He pulled his head back. “Yes?”
“How much did you pay Maisey to be with me for the weekend?”
He chuckled. “I paid twice what your clients would have paid.” He smirked. “She severely underestimated how far I was prepared to go to make you mine.”
Claire blew a piece of hair from her brow. “Maisey made more than enough money from me.”
He nodded, his stare a little more somber. “And what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Your sisters told me you gave them all the money from the sale of the house.”
She shrugged. “I’ve saved enough to keep me going for quite some time.”
He kissed her on the nose and gently pulled free. “You won’t ever need to worry about finances again.”
She blinked. He was beyond wealthy, that much was obvious. But being a pampered wife had never been a part of her plans. She rub
bed the back of her neck. Perhaps she could volunteer at a women’s shelter, or fund an organization to help abandoned women come to terms with their loss. “I don’t know how I feel about that.”
He rolled onto his side and reached for her toast, before proffering it to her. She took another bite even as he said, “Why wouldn’t you be happy? The only man you ever need to keep content will be me … your future husband.”
She pushed the toast back toward him. When he took the next cold bite, she said huskily, “Well then, I guess I’d better get in some more practice.” She climbed on top, straddling him with a silken smile as his appreciative gaze drank in her nudity.
“Practice does make perfect,” he agreed, crust dangling from his hand.
She smirked, happiness filling her from the inside out. “Then you really are going to be the happiest husband alive.”
Epilogue
‡
Claire straightened the ‘selfie’ Mack had taken of them on the cliff face what seemed like a lifetime ago. She smiled at the memory. They’d made so many more memories since that day a little over two months ago.
She touched their wedding portrait taken just a week ago. It’d been a small and intimate ceremony with just their sisters, his secretary Matilda, along with her husband, and his two young execs, Terry and Regan as witnesses.
Her hand moved to the next framed photo displaying Danni and Tina at her wedding with the two handsome execs. The four had previously met at the surprise twenty-fifth birthday party Mackenzie had thrown Claire, where he’d then handed her back the keys to the house she’d grown up in.
She smiled, her eyes then drawn to the group photo where all her family and friends—including her call girl friends—screamed out ‘cheese’ for the photo, balancing their party hats on their heads with one hand and holding birthday cake with the other.
Tears welled. She was so lucky to be surrounded by so many people she loved and who loved her in return. Not that anyone could possibly shower her with as much affection as her husband.
