Devil in a Dark Blue Suit

by Robyn Grady

  He laughed and reminded her, ‘A little late for that kind of modesty.’

  Her eyes narrowed even while they danced. ‘You don’t play fair.’

  ‘I play to win.’

  He grabbed the gusset of the bikini pants, which were caught at her knees, and whipped them off past her shins and feet. Enjoying her teasing mood and their game, he somehow managed to realign his focus from her lower regions to her bikini top and the perfect pebbled breasts rising and falling beneath the bright yellow triangles.

  Their game was about to get serious.

  He absently cast the bottoms aside. ‘I’d ask you to take that off—’ his chin tipped at her top as he bent forward ‘—but I’m looking forward to doing it myself.’

  ‘Good luck!’

  In a fluid movement, she snatched the bottoms off the rock and rolled into the water. He missed catching her by a millimetre. Loving the energy thundering through his blood, he plunged into the water after her.

  When Devlin surfaced on the other side of the waterfall, he threw a glance around. Eden didn’t appear to be in the lake, or on the blanket on the sand.

  ‘Eden?’ Treading water, he spun around, then spun around again. ‘Eden! Where are you?’

  ‘Up here!’

  His attention shot to the cliffs and he almost swallowed his tongue. Her bikini bottoms were in place, which he’d half expected. He hadn’t expected to see her clinging to the side of that rock face, not far up, but far enough to hurt herself if she fell and clipped the side.

  This behaviour wasn’t normal. Not for Eden, in any case. What the heck was in that nectar?

  ‘Eden,’ he said in a low calm tone, ‘get down from there—slowly.’

  ‘It’s deep enough if I fall.’

  ‘You’re not used to climbing,’ he said levelly. ‘You’ll hurt yourself.’

  Hesitation flickered over her face, then she peered down. Immediately unsteady, she clutched at the rock again.

  She grinned weakly. ‘It looks higher up here than I thought.’

  He pointed at her, willing his finger to keep her feet glued to the spot. ‘Stay put. I’ll come up and get you.’

  She shook her head as if he were bullying her. ‘I don’t need rescuing, Devlin. I got myself up here. I’m more than capable of getting myself down.’

  Before he could object, she raised her arms, closed her eyes—perhaps to say a prayer—then executed a perfect swan dive into the lake.

  Letting loose a string of expletives, he waited until she popped up for air. Then he captured her and swam towards the bank. She was laughing and coughing when he dumped her on the blanket.

  Flopping back, she sighed at the sky. ‘That was fun.’

  Standing over her, he set his palms on his knees and got his breath. ‘No. That was stupid.’

  ‘Because I did it and you didn’t? I thought you’d approve of my impulsiveness.’

  ‘Why the hell would I—’

  But then he stopped, sized her up and smiled a knowing smile.

  This was payback. He’d scared her three years ago when that ship in Scotland had capsized. She’d wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. He couldn’t believe she’d pull such a stunt. One part of him wanted to applaud her sense of adventure. A bigger part wanted to throw her over his knee and spank her soundly so she wouldn’t try it again.

  Which was ludicrous.

  He wasn’t her keeper.

  Just as she wasn’t his.

  Breathless, she sat up a little unsteadily, a big grin on her face. ‘I’m not tired any more.’

  Setting his jaw, he snatched up the picnic basket. ‘Then we’ll pack up and head back.’ Before any more delinquent schemes hatched in her head. ‘You’ve had enough sun.’

  ‘Sunbathing wasn’t what I had in mind.’

  She reached around and pulled the bow at her back then unceremoniously flipped the yellow triangles up over her head.

  As if steel pins had been removed from his legs, Devlin fell onto his knees. Drinking in the voluptuous lines of her divine form, he tried again to make sense of her spontaneity. When he analysed the teasing promise in her eyes, another cog clicked into place.

  With a wry grin, he shoved the basket aside. ‘You want to drive me completely insane.’

  Tease him until he begged for mercy.

  She held out her arm to him. ‘Is it working?’

  He lowered over her until, curling back, she lay, trapped, beneath him.

  He growled against her lips, ‘I’ll let you be the judge.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  WHEN Eden’s eyes widened then blinked up at him, Devlin stiffened and, by some miracle, held off from covering her mouth with his.

  She seemed to be holding her breath. Going over something in her mind. He’d done all the thinking he needed to do. Time for action. Time to have each other fully, no excuses, no holding back. After her performance just now after he’d dragged her out of the water, she had to want the same.

  So why was she peering up at him as if she had second thoughts?

  ‘Can I offer a suggestion?’ she asked sheepishly.

  Devlin’s jaw shifted.

  He liked foreplay and games as much as the next guy, but he certainly hoped this wasn’t a ploy to wiggle out and run away from him again. This tug of war had gone on for twenty-four hours. Whenever one was ready to proceed, the other had found some reason to delay the inevitable.

  She’d consented to come away with him, had flirted with him. As of this minute she lay beneath him, her breasts rubbing, with each breath, against his bare chest. There wasn’t another living soul within miles and he was so worked up, his every thought was trained against the urge to fall back upon caveman instincts, which meant ignoring her question and taking his pleasure while he kissed her senseless.

  Thankfully sanity prevailed.

  With his erection strained against his trunks and her belly, his response came out a husky growl. ‘What’s your suggestion?’

  No words. Rather she slid her damp palms between them and gave his chest a token push. His every muscle locked as his brow lowered and his temperature crept up the scale.

  Had he misread her? Maybe he’d overestimated that kiss in the rain, her uninhibited response in that steamy room yesterday. But what about her frolicking in the water a moment ago?

  Damnation, did she intend to make love with him or not?

  While his darkening gaze flickered over her beautiful face, her golden hair swept back from their swim, his mouth instinctively lowered again, so close her ragged breath stirred over his lips, as if begging him to read her ‘stop’ as a ‘please proceed’.

  And he’d better pull back now while he still had the strength.

  Unable to hide his frustration and doubt, he pushed up onto his knees. Taking her time, Eden repositioned up onto her haunches too. Face to face, she looked squarely into his eyes, then cupped and lifted his jaw. Lightly—carefully—she kissed the hot beating hollow at the base of his throat.

  A swirling backdraft of desire blasted through to his core. The sensation was so swift, so strong, he felt compelled to warn her if she was playing again, she was playing with a fire that was perilously close to raging out of control.

  But before he could force the words up over the mind-drugging tightness low in his gut, her mouth touched him again, her soft cool lips first caressing his left collarbone then the right, her enticing touch grazing over the crisp hair on his chest, her kiss nipping at a nipple, before trailing further down his centre, her fingers trailing behind.

  His head rocked back and his eyes drifted closed as he surrendered to this to-die-for sensation.

  Oh, yes, this was his Eden.

  When her hand scooped into the front of his swimming trunks and freed his raging erection, he clenched his hands by his sides and ground out, For God’s sake, ‘Don’t stop.’

  Her tongue ran a lazy line around his navel before she answered, ‘Not even if the sky cracked wide open and
fell in.’

  She stroked then squeezed his length until the groan of exquisite pleasure rumbling in his chest escaped his throat. In response, she scooped lower and kneaded that part of him that was bunched tight enough to explode.

  When her mouth skimmed down and her tongue slipped around his burning tip, his erection jumped and every hair on his body stood up. With her lips slipping over the top of him, she angled her head and went down while her hand in his trunks rubbed and caressed.

  His spine arched back as he glowed with the scorching, wonderful need to detonate. Unable to resist, his palm shaped the back of her damp hair, encouraging her to take more of him, which she did with exquisite skill. When her teeth skimmed back up, a tingling wave of darkest pleasure ran up his legs, pushing fast, pushing hard.

  Silently cursing, he bunched every muscle in his body, found her jaw and, drawing her back, willed her to meet his eyes.

  ‘I’d like you to do that all day—’ he swallowed ‘—but I’m not sure I’m strong enough.’

  Her parted lips glistened as her fingers fanned over his groin. ‘Let’s see how strong you are.’

  She drew him into her mouth again. When her tongue looped round and round, his body shook against the urge to be done with it and have his release this way. He knew she wouldn’t object.

  But he wanted to bring her to the same state of finely balanced madness that he battled now. He wanted her to know the almost painful ecstasy shooting like a blowtorch through his veins. And he wanted to bring her to that point without using his hands or his mouth.

  He found the will power to draw her away and urge her up. Holding her chin, he kissed her deeply, letting her know how much he enjoyed, and had missed, the things she did with him. His mouth covering hers, his hand skied down her throat to find and sculpt one heavy breast, then roll and pluck the sensitive bead until she whimpered against his lips.

  ‘Keep doing that, and I won’t be responsible for my actions.’ She shivered against him as if to show him just how serious she was.

  An arm looping around to support her back, he lay her down on the blanket. He blindly swept the plate and goblets aside, then, kneeling between her legs, he swiftly removed her bikini briefs before he nudged her thighs wider apart with his knees.

  He skimmed two fingers between her silky folds. She was so wet and welcoming—the sight of her, the scent, was almost enough to make him forget his manners and succumb to that inner beast still clamouring to break free. Instead he drew a slick circle with his finger precisely where and exactly how she liked it.

  She bucked at his knowing touch and held his hand, pressing against the spot.

  Lowering over her, he whispered against her flushed cheek, ‘Not yet. Not yet.’

  Her eyes shut, she sighed out a quivering breath and nodded.

  Tenderly pressing a kiss to one side of her mouth, he opened her with his fingers then pushed slowly in, stopping only when she arched luxuriously beneath him and he knew he’d filled her as much as this initial connection allowed.

  The breath left her body as she quivered and held onto his shoulders. ‘Don’t move. Stay just like that.’

  He grinned. ‘You mean like this?’

  Almost imperceptibly, he ground against her body, shifting his hips.

  An intense yet blissful smile curved her lips. ‘Yes, exactly like that.’ Her fingertips feathered the span that joined his shoulders to neck. ‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Teasing me. Making me want you more.’

  He murmured against her brow, ‘Ask me something hard.’

  She grinned wickedly. ‘Count backwards from ten.’

  When her inner muscles contracted—pulling him in, holding him tight—a fine film of sweat broke down the indentation of his back, on his brow. He hissed in air, groaning at the powerful sensation before playfully shaking his brain.

  ‘So what comes after nine?’

  When her sultry laugh escaped, he hardened more and his primitive brain took over the synapses that made him a man first and last. Relishing the moment, he began to move.

  Her legs coiled around his thighs and her head dropped one side, her face a fascinating study in sheer ecstasy.

  ‘Oh, Devlin, I’ve missed this.’

  He turned her head back and stole a deliberate, penetrating kiss. He wanted her, all of her. And, yes, he’d missed her too. So much.

  Already treading a razor’s edge—already so close to that peak—he drove inside her, savouring her writhing, impassioned response.

  ‘Say it again,’ he murmured close to her ear.

  Say you missed me. Say you want more.

  And she did, but not with words.

  His next kiss swallowed the mewling sound leaking from her throat as her calves pushed him in and her body grew taut then contracted around him. His heart pounding, he reached down to cup her bottom, pushing her closer as pinpoints of light tingled and built in his head and his blood.

  He groaned against the vital burn, and a heartbeat later was flung into the grip of a heavenly, hammering high. So elemental and raw. So exquisite and adored.

  He’d sell his soul to never come down.

  When they returned to the bungalow late in the day, Eden couldn’t help but beam at the feeling of walking on air. Walking on clouds.

  In the west a huge orange ball sank into its fiery horizon, casting a jewelled glow over the leaves, the sand and, beyond the island, a shimmering net on the shadowy sea. A symphony of lively cricket song filled the air, and as they traipsed up the stairs she wrapped her arms more securely around Devlin, resting her cheek against his chest while he held her near.

  Held her as if she belonged there.

  Same way this day belonged in her dreams, she thought, climbing the last step and holding him tighter. How many hours had she spent locked in and around Devlin’s soul-lifting embrace this afternoon? An embrace that, before yesterday, she’d given up hope of knowing again. If only she could hold onto this magic and tie these wings to her feet for ever.

  But, of course, that was impossible.

  Just take what you can and be grateful for that.

  On the veranda, she stopped and, on a burst of happiness—or was it desperation?—stole a kiss from his raspy jaw.

  ‘I’m going to change for dinner.’ Her fingertip wove down the hair on his chest. ‘Why don’t you pour us some wine?’

  A dark brow cocked. ‘You don’t need more wine.’

  After stopping to rethink his statement, she shook her head, no. ‘We might’ve had an opinion on the flavour, but Tianne’s note said that nectar wasn’t alcohol based.’ She rubbed a leisurely hand over one rock-hard pec. ‘I feel fine.’

  Better than fine.

  Trying to smother a grin, he tapped her bottom and they proceeded into the main open-plan room. ‘You weren’t acting fine earlier.’

  He meant her climbing that cliff, removing her top?

  ‘Do you think I did those things because I was intoxicated?’

  After he lowered the picnic basket next to a sculpture of an ibis about to take flight, he set his hands low on his hips and shrugged. ‘It’s the only explanation.’

  She laughed. ‘So when you do out-of-the-ordinary things, you’re feeding an adventurous spirit. When I do something wild, I must be drunk.’

  He held her shoulders, a sardonic gleam in his eye. ‘You’ll admit it yourself—you don’t like adventure.’

  ‘I’m here, aren’t I?’ she said silkily.

  ‘Only because you had no choice.’ He winced, dropped a kiss on her crown and, after rubbing her shoulders conciliatorily, moved away. ‘That came out wrong.’

  No offence taken, particularly when she had a primetime distraction—watching his behind, glorified in those fitting black trunks, as he sauntered away with that leisurely fluid gait she adored.

  ‘You’re right,’ she admitted freely as her eye-line travelled to the steel girths of his thighs. ‘I didn’t have a choice in coming here. It was either face my
demons, face you, like this, or live in emotional purgatory for the rest of my life.’

  Standing at the bar, which was set against a bamboo feature wall, he angled back, his brows mischievously drawn. ‘Whoa. That sounds heavy.’

  A bit of an exaggeration, she’d concede.

  ‘Thing is, we might not be destined to grow old together, but we do share a chemistry. I needed to see what we started yesterday through to its natural conclusion.’

  Simple.

  When his jaw shifted and head tilted, her amused laugh slipped out. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Devlin. Am I stealing your thunder?’

  But she was only being honest, even if that kind of honesty tarnished this fantasy getaway’s glow a smidge.

  He lost his pensive look and dropped onto his haunches to select wine from the lower rack.

  ‘I’m merely trying to get this straight,’ he said, his finger running over the labels. ‘This time away, as far as you’re concerned, is purely about sex?’

  She crossed her arms and grinned. Trust a man to reduce it to that. And was he truly having such a hard time finding the right wine or was he keeping his gaze averted so she couldn’t read the relief and glee in his eyes?

  ‘This time away is about having fun,’ she explained. ‘About letting go.’ Then letting go once and for all. ‘No one should have to tiptoe around pretending it’s anything more than that.’

  His broad back to her, he didn’t answer—only rose to his full height and set the selected wine on the bar ledge. Content to watch the musculature of his shoulders and back work in perfect harmony, she held her tongue while he removed the cap. But when the silence lengthened, icy fingers of dread trickled down her spine.

  Maybe she’d gone too far. He was a master of the game, after all, and that meant masking the fundamental reason behind an effective seduction, which masculine vernacular translated into ‘getting laid’. Yet her own pride wouldn’t let him believe she was that naïve any more. This weekend was what it was. A wonderful time-limited escape.