‘Wait, Josie,’ Conan demanded, and, locking the front door, he strode towards her.
She stopped, one foot on the stair, and looked up at him. ‘I’m going to bed,’ she said flatly. She didn’t feel up to talking to him. It must have been obvious to everyone present that evening where his real feelings lay, irrespective of what Pamela had said.
Angela’s parting shot as she left still rang in Josie’s ears. ‘I don’t know how you tricked Conan into marrying you. Obviously I stayed away too long, but now I’m back you’d better get used to spending your evenings alone, sweetie.’ Josie had been stunned by the malice in the older woman’s eyes.
‘Not so fast, Josie.’ Conan’s hand on her back stopped her departure. ‘I want to talk to you. Come into the drawing room and have a nightcap with me.’
‘I don’t drink,’ she said flatly.
‘Of course. Your condition.’
‘I am not a condition. The word you are avoiding is pregnant,’ she said, deliberately running her hand over her gently swollen stomach. ‘The reason we’re married, remember? ’ She was tired, fed up, and badly needed to be alone.
‘How can I forget?’ Conan muttered, and, catching her arm, urged her into the drawing room. ‘But you and I need to talk.’
Shaking off his arm, she walked past him and, kicking off her shoes, sank down into an over-stuffed armchair, curling her feet beneath her, and looking anywhere but at Conan.
A minute later he stood before her, a glass in his hand. ‘This won’t harm you—it’s a St Clement’s.’
Josie glanced up and took the glass from his hand; the light brush of his fingers against her own sent a tingle of electricity zinging up her arm. Hastily she took a gulp of the drink. ‘What is it?’ To her astonishment Conan began to sing a couple of lines of a nursery rhyme completely off key.
“‘Oranges and lemons said the bells of St Clement’s. I owe you five farthings, said the bells of St Martin’s.” Surely you know the rhyme?’ Conan drawled mockingly. ‘And you about to be a mother. The drink is a mixture of orange and lemon—nothing sinister.’
A brief smile flickered across her face and she drained her glass.
‘You look like you needed that, Josie. I can’t think why. I thought the evening went very well.’
‘I’m glad you think so,’ she snapped, not at all inclined towards idle conversation. She had had enough of that for one night. ‘What did you want to talk about anyway?’ she demanded bluntly.
‘Do I have to have a reason for talking to my wife?’ Conan queried silkily.
Josie’s head jerked up at his tone of voice. His dark eyes were narrowed angrily, his mouth tight, and once again she was aware of the man of steel beneath the civilised exterior she had grown accustomed to.
‘No, no, of course not, but it has been a very long day and I am rather tired,’ she offered. The last thing she needed was to argue with him. She might find herself demanding to know about his relationship with Angela, and it had nothing to do with her. Putting her glass on the side table and uncurling her feet, she prepared to get up. But before her feet touched the ground she was swung up in two strong arms.
‘What...?’ she exclaimed, and grabbed wildly at his shoulders.
Conan, his anger replaced by amusement, chuckled at the startled expression on her small face. ‘In that case, Josie, I will take you safely to bed, hmm?’
‘Put me down!’ He had removed his jacket earlier, and her hand inadvertently slipped beneath the collar of his shirt. She could feel the heat of his bare skin beneath her fingertips, and she saw the wicked glint in his dark eyes.
‘Put...put me down!’ she reiterated sharply as he mounted the stairs, but he ignored her plea. She tried to struggle but it was no contest. He was so much bigger and so much more determined.
He strode along the landing and straight into the bedroom, where he dropped her unceremoniously down in the middle of the bed. ‘Now, Josie, tell me what’s gone wrong. You were all sweetness and light last night and this morning. But this evening you’ve been like a cat on a hot tin roof. What’s changed?’ he demanded hardily.
‘Nothing.’ She swallowed hard and tried to sit up, but Conan stopped her by placing his large hands on her shoulders and pushing her back against the pillows. His long body stretched out on the bed beside her.
‘Will you let me up?’ She pushed ineffectually at his chest.
‘No.’
This morning she had dreamed of Conan in her bed, but now it was a reality she was horrified. She glanced frantically around the room; her eyes alighting on the door to Conan’s room. ‘Does Jeffrey know we don’t sleep together? ’ she blurted out then couldn’t believe she’d said it.
Conan rolled over her. Leaning on his elbows, he cradled her head in his hands. ‘What made you ask that now? You’ve never been curious before.’
‘I just wondered,’ she breathed, lifting her hands to his chest in an attempt to push him away.
‘Well, don’t. Jeffrey does not know. I’m a very tidy man. I make the bed myself before he arrives in the morning. A male ego thing. I do have some pride.’
‘Oh.’ She blushed; it had been a stupid question, but, worse, the warmth of his body, the weight of his long leg slung over hers, trapping her beneath him, and the attractive face with the beginnings of a five-o’clock shadow only inches from her own, were playing havoc with her overstretched emotions.
‘“Oh”? Is that all you have to say?’ he prompted, his long fingers stroking through her hair. ‘At my magnificent sacrifice?’ he murmured against her ear.
Josie swallowed hard; she had an overwhelming urge to taste the brown satin skin of his throat only inches away from her mouth. Instead she mumbled idiotically, ‘Thank you.’ Her fingers splayed over his chest in another attempt to push him away.
‘Is that the best you can do?’ Conan’s dark eyes glittered. He knew perfectly well how he affected her and took full advantage of the fact. ‘A freely given kiss might be some compensation,’ he suggested huskily.
He was deliberately teasing her, she knew, and for a second anger overcame her common sense. ‘Only a kiss?’ she charged, wondering what Angela had given him, sure that it had not stopped at a kiss. Arching one delicately shaped brow, she added provocatively, ‘You’re cheap!’ Lifting her head, she pressed her lips to his mouth. One kiss and she would be rid of him, was her last clear thought.
Her eyes fluttered closed as she opened her mouth to the pressure of his and their tongues met and stroked. The feel of his hard body sent shock waves of sensual awareness shuddering through her. She forgot about Angela, Charles, everything, as warmth spread from the pit of her stomach to flood her slender body with a delicious sensual lethargy she had never known existed before.
Her hands lingered on his chest, and instead of pushing him away she began exploring intimately under his open shirt, entangling her fingers in his crisp body hair with tactile pleasure. Something so fantastic could not be wrong...
She heard his sigh—or was it a groan?—and opened her eyes. The room was in shadow, the bedside lamp casting a small pool of light around the large bed. Josie stared up at Conan, her huge violet eyes luminous with an expression as old as Eve that she was completely unaware of. Conan was watching her, waiting, his huge body strangely tense.
‘You said you were tired, Josie; perhaps I should help you undress?’ he offered, and, leaning up on one elbow, he slipped his other hand under the shoulder strap of her dress. ‘Tell me, do you want me?’ he paused. ‘To help you?’ he asked throatily.
What on earth was she doing? The question lingered in her mind for all of a second. Then Conan’s large hand splayed over her naked shoulder, his long fingers idly caressing her soft skin. She trembled but recognised the unspoken question in the fiery depths of his dark eyes. ‘Yes, please,’ she murmured, knowing fully well what she was inviting as her fingers, on a voyage of discovery of their own, slid down his chest and tried to unfasten the remaining buttons
of his shirt.
‘Allow me,’ he said huskily. ‘I want to look at you.’ In one lithe movement he shrugged off his shirt and gently pushed her dress down to her waist, exposing her naked breasts to his gaze.
‘You are perfect, absolutely perfect!’ Conan groaned, and, lowering his huge body over her, he gently rubbed his broad chest against her achingly sensitive breasts, while his tongue flicked teasingly around the outline of her mouth. Josie’s lips parted, begging his kiss, and, unable to resist her offer, his mouth closed over hers in erotic possession.
She felt his welcoming weight move restlessly against her, the heat of his body scorching through her, melting any lingering inhibitions. Her hands curved around his back and traced the indent of his spine, while Conan, with his lips and tongue, encouraged her to take her fill of him. The outside world ceased to exist; they were encapsulated in their secret world of the senses. Josie gave herself up to the pleasure only Conan could arouse in her.
He broke the kiss to trail a line of tiny kisses down her throat to the soft curve of her breasts. Her breasts hardened beneath the gentle flick of his tongue, aching for a more intimate caress. Instead Conan drew back, and she almost cried out in frustration, but he was not to be hurried.
His eyes gleamed golden with desire as he gazed down at the twin creamy globes, the rosy tips dark and rigid. ‘For such a small girl you are remarkably well endowed,’ he said raggedly, and with one long finger he traced slowly, seductively around the aureole.
A deep shudder streaked from her breast to her thighs, her body arching under him. Her small hand gripped his arm, her fingers digging into his flesh. But with the same slow deliberation he gently caressed her other breast. Josie had never in her life imagined such exquisite pleasure. ‘Conan,’ she moaned, helpless beneath his sensual expertise.
‘I think you like that, Josie.’
‘Yes, yes,’ she cried, unconscious of how erotically exciting her frantic cry was to Conan.
‘And this even more,’ he growled, his head dipping and his mouth closing over the rigid tip of her breast.
Josie’s breath stopped in her throat as with mouth and tongue he teased first one pert nipple and then the other. Her hands clasped his broad shoulders, urging him closer. Tomorrow she would be ashamed of her behaviour, but now the only thought in her head was Conan. He was a fire in her blood more potent than any drug. She gasped as he shaped her breast with his hands and she drowned in the achingly delicious sensations he ignited in her. She knew it was wrong—he did not love her—but with his dark head at her breast she could not think, only feel. He lifted his head and her eyes sought his with unashamed longing.
‘Don’t look at me like that, Josie. My control is stretched to the limit as it is,’ he said with a low chuckle. ‘And I haven’t finished helping you undress yet.’
Caught staring, Josie flushed scarlet. ‘No need to blush, little one.’ Bending over her, he gently eased her dress over her hips and off, and, slipping his fingers beneath the waistband of her briefs, he dispensed with them the same way.
Josie lay quivering on the bed as his large hands traced from her ankles to her thighs. He knelt on the bed beside her, devouring her with his eyes.
‘You are so exquisite, Josie!’ Sliding his hands up over her breasts, he slipped them under her arms and gathered her up to him. ‘And I want you. How I want you.’ Then his passionate mouth claimed hers and she shuddered with excitement as together they plunged into the erotic world of the senses.
With teeth and tongue and mouth they breathed the essence of each other, and finally, when they needed to breathe, Conan urged Josie back down on the bed, his hands, his mouth tantalising and tormenting her, learning every throbbing inch of her until every nerve in her body was on fire for him. His eyes dark pools of molten desire, he stared down at her then slowly lowered his head. His mouth found hers, and he kissed her with a fierce, demanding passion that would not be denied. With one hand he traced over the gentle curve of her stomach, his long fingers tangling in the black curls between her thighs, finding the moist, tender flesh that pulsed at his touch.
Josie could not control the whimper that escaped from her parted lips at the ecstasy of his caress. Her nails dug into the hard muscles of his back. The blood surged through her veins, her heart racing till she thought it would explode.
She exulted in their mutual desire, her tongue exploring every contour of his hot, moist mouth. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought it could be like this. But suddenly there was no more time to think as Conan deftly removed his trousers and rolled completely over her, slipping his hard thigh between her slender legs.
She felt the shift in weight of his body, and his aroused hardness as he lifted his head, his jaw rigid as he fought for control. ‘You want me, Josie?’
‘Yes,’ she moaned. She could not help herself; her eyes deepened to purple with passion, staring blindly up at him. She had forgotten the past—everything. There was only now and Conan and an unbearable longing to have him possess her completely.
‘Say it, Josie. Tell me.’ His almost-black eyes burnt into hers as he rasped, ‘I need to hear you say my name. I want you to know it’s me and not Charles.’
Josie tensed involuntarily as his whispered words penetrated her sensation-soaked brain, and for a second she remembered Charles and how it had been. Blind, unreasoning panic stormed through her.
‘No, no,’ she cried, in instinctive rejection, her hands falling from his chest, while her body stiffened in fear.
‘No. You said no,’ he groaned, shaking his dark head in stunned disbelief.
For a second Josie had frozen, but only for a second. She reached out to Conan, but her hand met only air as, with a string of violent curses, he flung himself off her and lay flat on his back, his massive chest heaving with each rasping breath.
What had she done? Josie asked herself, battling to control her frantically beating heart. She had been terrified for a moment, but only for a moment, and then she hadn’t wanted him to stop. She reached out again.
But he swung his long legs to the floor and turned his back on her. ‘I’ve met some women in my time, but you, Josie! What the hell do you think you’re playing at? You have a lot to learn if you think you can get away with that kind of teasing.’
‘I...I...’ What could she say? She should never have let it go so far. She stretched out her hand and gently touched him. She felt his shoulders tense and as he stood up so her hand fell away he spun around to stare down at her.
She tried again. ‘I didn’t mean...’ She began to explain. ‘I thought I...’ She stumbled to a halt, defeated by the blazing anger leaping like flames in the depths of his eyes.
‘I know what you thought. You made that painfully obvious,’ he snarled derisively.
She glanced up at him and just as hastily looked away. He was towering over her, unconscious of his naked state. It was more than she could bear.
‘You belatedly remembered Charles, didn’t you? Didn’t you, Josie?’ he reiterated scathingly.
‘Yes, but...’ She had remembered Charles, but not in the way Conan thought! She wanted to explain, but never got the chance.
‘I should have known,’ he sneered, picking his trousers up off the floor and straightening up. ‘What were you doing? Pretending I was Charles, no doubt.’ His face hardened. ‘Well, let me tell you I have no intention of being a stand-in for a dead man.’
‘No, no, it wasn’t like that.’ She could not bear to let him think that badly of her. If he would just listen for a moment... ‘It wasn’t quite like that.’
He eyed her lying naked on the bed, his physical strength intimidating her as he looked down his arrogant nose at her, not a trace of anger remaining in his dark eyes, only cold contempt. ‘Then maybe you would oblige me by telling me just what you thought you were playing at. You started this fiasco. You’ve been giving me the green light for the last two days. You can’t blame me for taking up the offer.’
Josie’s eyes widened in horror. He was right. She hadn’t realised she had been so obvious, but to an experienced man like Conan she must have seemed blatant. But she would not admit it. Not for the world.
‘Don’t look so surprised; you know you did. What’s the matter? Suddenly afraid you were going to get more than you bargained for?’
‘No,’ she denied. ‘I...’ Her eyes skidded away from his, lingering on the hard muscles of his chest, the flat plane of his stomach, and lower... She gulped and guiltily jerked her gaze back to his, only to be trapped by the knowing gleam in his eyes.
‘But perhaps not enough after all. You really are a sensual little girl. What was it? A few months without a man too much for you? Charles gave you a taste for it and you wanted me to relieve your frustration. I can understand that. I’ve been too long without a woman myself. Was that the problem, Josie?’ he queried silkily.
So he had not made love to Angela this afternoon, Josie realised. But it did not make her feel any better. He was in complete control and she was still deathly afraid of her own turbulent emotions. Pulling herself up to a sitting position, she dragged the sheet over her breasts, her hand tangling in the fabric.
‘No,’ she murmured in denial. Glancing up at him, she saw that his dark eyes fixed on her held no warmth, no passion, only a kind of clinical determination to discover what lay beneath the surface of her mind. Her anger rose at his impersonal inspection. While she had been reduced to an aching mass of frustration, Conan had no such problem; he was once more his cool, enigmatic self.
‘Liar,’ he said flatly, his eyes sweeping down to the rapid rise and fall of her breasts beneath the sheet, and back to her face.
Why was she even bothering to try and explain to him? she asked herself, scarlet with embarrassment and anger, his sexual arrogance infuriating her even more.
A Husband of Convenience Page 8
