The Tycoon She Shouldn't Crave

by Penny Jordan

  “How?” Chris was totally confused. What did he want? Money? Slater had always been relatively wealthy; money had never seemed to be a motivating force in his life. Her mind could not take in what he was saying.

  “Like this.” He locked the door and came towards her, his intention written clearly in his eyes. Chris tensed and moved back; the eternal moves of prey and hunter. Deep down inside her tension began to coil in spirals of excitement. Slater wanted her; she knew it as instinctively and intensely as though he had said the words out loud to her. Her pulses thudded protestingly as he came closer, so close that she could see the yellow speckles in his irises.

  “Slater…”

  “Don’t say anything,” he warned her thickly. “You owe me this, Chris…this and all the thousands of other times you should have been in my arms and weren’t. I don’t understand it, damn you,” he muttered as he reached her and seized hold of her upper arms. “You’re not cold, or lacking in passion—just the opposite, and yet all these years there you’ve remained a virgin…”

  Chris tried to summon a cool smile. “Perhaps I just enjoy teasing,” she commented brightly, trying to shake free of his grip. “I really don’t think this is a good idea, Slater…”

  “Really? Now I happen to disagree.” The silky softness of his voice shivered across her nerves.

  “You’re marrying Sarah,” Chris reminded him suddenly growing desperate.

  “I’m not married to her yet. You owe me this, Chris…”

  It was the second time he had voiced the emphatic claim. She didn’t owe him anything, Chris thought bitterly; on the contrary, he was the one… Her thoughts became a confused jumble as his mouth touched hers, lingering sensually on the softness of her lower lip. Violence she could have resisted, but this tenderness, this feeling she had that he was willing her backwards in time were things she couldn’t compete against. Her body wanted him; yearned for him far more hungrily now that it was aware of all that his possession could mean; than it had done in the old days, when his experience had protected her innocence.

  The heat of his mouth as it moved on hers seduced her senses, her body burning where he touched it, stroking lightly over her clothes, until she ached to be rid of their constrictive layers and free to feel the oiled silk of his skin on her own. She felt him move slightly away and instinctively her mouth clung, her tongue tentatively begging him to stay.

  “Chris!” The muffled sound of her name, almost tortured as he muttered it against her throat made her heart thud excitedly. She loved him so much she was willing to take even these crumbs, she acknowledged mentally. If Slater wanted to make love to her then she was more than willing for him to do so. In his arms she wanted to be for him all the woman he had ever hungered for; a woman he would remember all his life. She wanted their lovemaking to be something that marriage to Sarah would never be able to obliterate and if that was selfish then she was going to be selfish she decided, anguishedly.

  “You don’t know how much I want you.” The admission seemed to be wrung from him, his skin hot as he pressed his forehead against hers, his fingers tense on her body. The sudden sensation of power was so strong and overwhelming that she didn’t even try to resist it.

  “Show me.” She whispered the words against his mouth, teasing the taut shape of it with soft kisses, sliding her hands along his shoulders until her breasts were pressed flat against his chest.

  The frenzied thud of his heart seemed to beat right through her, her insides curling pleasurably with excitement as his hands cupped her face, his mouth devouring hers, absorbing the taste and texture of it, as though it were some magical life force.

  The heat of his palm against her breast melted her insides, her need finding some relief in the small sounds of pleasure she made deep in her throat.

  “It’s like listening to a kitten purring.” Slater mouthed the words against her throat feeling the reverberations of the small sounds increasing in volume as he unfastened her blouse and slid his hand inside.

  Against the thin silk of her bra her nipples strained provocatively for his touch, her body arched along the length of his, supported by his arm at the back of her waist.

  His mouth left her throat, and Chris opened her eyes reluctantly. Heat exploded inside her as she saw the naked desire glittering in his eyes as his gaze rested on the aroused thrust of her breasts.

  “Kiss me.” The words seemed to come from a woman who was almost a stranger to her; a woman who seemed to know instinctively how to guide Slater’s dark head to her breast; a woman who made no secret of the pleasure he gave her when he pushed aside the fine silk and slid his mouth over the hard nub of her nipple.

  “Like this?” Slater’s mouth caressed her other breast, while Chris murmured her pleasure, her hands clutching at the smooth flesh of his back. Totally engrossed in the sharply erotic sensations flooding her body as Slater’s mouth suckled her nipples, Chris was barely aware of him unzipping her skirt until it slid free of her hips, and he lifted her free of it, his hands sliding inside the barrier of her briefs to hold her against him. His harsh groan of pleasure at the intimate contact of their bodies flooded her with love. Her fingers tugged at the buttons of his shirt, her mouth fusing eagerly with his, as her hips strained eagerly against him.

  Beneath his shirt his chest was slightly moist, the musky scent of his body enveloping her.

  When he dropped down on one knee in front of her to unfasten her stockings Chris quivered with heady anticipation. For once in her life she wasn’t going to think or rationalise; she was simply going to feel. But the fierce sheeting of pleasure racing under her skin as Slater’s mouth caressed the tender inside of her thigh was something for which she was totally unprepared. She pulled away instinctively, trembling, caught up in coils of ever tightening desire for him, a dark tide of colour storming her skin.

  “Chris…Chris…let me love you.” Slater’s skin was as flushed as her own, his voice thick, barely recognisable.

  Quivers of sensation arrowed through her like darts of fire as he took her silence for consent and his tongue wove delicate patterns against her responsive skin, his hands deftly removing the silk stockings. The dainty ribbon of her suspender belt slid to the floor the moment he unfastened it. Chris shivered as she felt the light brush of his fingers against the top of her thigh and then under the elastic of her tiny briefs. Dizzily she closed her eyes, wanting to touch him as he was touching her, aching for him to possess her body, to…

  Idiotically, when he had removed her briefs she wanted to hide herself away from him, and as though he sensed the impulse he reached up, grasping her wrists, securing them lightly behind her body with one hand, while the other stroked slowly up the left hand side of her body, his fingers curling round her ankle, exploring the shape of her calf; her knee… Chris was shivering convulsively, long before she felt the gentle drift of his mouth along her inner thigh. His hand cupped her bottom, and she cried out aloud as she felt the intimate brush of his tongue against her body, wanting to pull away and yet too enfeebled by the tumultuous surge of pleasure rushing through her to do so.

  The small sounds she had been suppressing clogged up her throat and were expelled in a tormented moan. “Slater, please…” She wanted to make him stop what he was doing; to give voice to her shock at the intimacy of his caresses, but the fevered words of praise and encouragement he was groaning against her skin stopped her. She let him lift her on to the bed, holding out her arms eagerly to him as he removed the rest of his clothing. His body was perfect, she thought breathlessly studying it with open curiosity, unable to stop herself from touching, half in awe…half in love. A man’s open physical arousal was something she had never witnessed before, and she was overcome by a feeling of pride that she should have such an effect on him, coupled with a need to show him how much his desire for her meant to her.

  When she touched him hesitantly he tensed. Uncertainty flickered through her. In the old days although she had known that she aroused him, al
l the caresses between them had been initiated by Slater. She had never touched him intimately nor had he indicated that he wanted her to do so. Now she wanted to, for her own sake as much as his, but what if he didn’t want her to?

  She looked hesitantly up at him, and caught her breath. Desire burned fiercely in his eyes, every bone in his face sharp-etched; his body tensed. He swallowed and she watched the muscles in his throat move, like someone in a dream. Wanting him was the worst kind of agony; an ache that seemed to invade every muscle and cell of skin.

  “Slater.” She murmured his name, her fingers stroking the firm sinewed surface of his thigh. Unlike her own it was covered in fine dark hairs. He didn’t move, neither rejecting nor accepting her caress. She bent her head and touched her lips to his skin.

  A thick inarticulate sound shattered the heavy silence surrounding them. Instantly Chris tensed and looked up at him, her heart thumping.

  Need; hunger; anger; all were clearly discernible in his eyes. He closed them as she watched, sliding his hands into her hair.

  “You make me ache so badly that I think I’m going mad with the agony of it. Don’t play with me, Chris,” he warned her hoarsely. “You’re not nineteen now—you’re old enough to know that I want you in all the ways a man can want a woman. I want to caress and arouse your body until I can feel the pleasure flood through it. I want you to touch and caress me in exactly the same way, but not as some sort of experiment you feel you have to embark on; not because it’s a reciprocal payment. Do you understand me?”

  Of course she did. Her body ached in tune to his harshly spoken words, feeling the pain; the wanting that had given birth to them.

  “I’ve dreamed of you for years,” she told him slowly. “Ached for you…cried for you. I love you, Slater,” she admitted huskily, bending her head until her hair slid silkily against his thighs and her lips caressed the hard maleness of him. His fierce sounds of pleasure heated her blood, her body pliant and eager for his, revelling in the punitive, urgent rasp of his tongue and teeth against the taut peaks of her breasts as he pulled her away from his body and proceeded to make love to her with an urgency that seemed to match her own aching need for fulfilment.

  The thrust of his body against and into her own pierced her with waves of pleasure. Her mouth clung feverishly to his, returning his drugging kisses. Heat filled her and then exploded into waves of pleasure. Beneath his mouth she called his name. His mouth left hers, a harsh cry of fulfillment echoing round the room as his body found release. He kissed her again. Gently this time, his lips pressing tender, almost adoring kisses against her throat and breasts, his arms curving her into his body.

  Relaxed and drowsy, Chris was caught completely off guard when he said, “Why did you say you love me? A slip of the tongue… Something you felt you ought to say, or was it simply the truth?”

  Reaction rushed over her like a cold spring tide. She tried to move, but he wouldn’t let her. Her humiliation was now complete, she derided herself. In her need for him, her love of him she had betrayed herself completely, while Slater had revealed… nothing.

  She wanted to lie but she knew she couldn’t. The words of an old saying came back to her. “To thine own self be true.” Why should she demean herself in her own eyes by lying. What would it achieve now?

  “Once long ago I lied to you to save my pride, Slater,” she told him quietly, “I’m not prepared to do that a second time. Yes, I do love you.” She made herself look at him. “I would think less of myself for making love with you not doing so, than I do for being foolish enough to do so.”

  She was quite proud of her little speech but Slater didn’t appear to have taken it all in. He was frowning. “What do you mean you lied to me once?”

  Mentally shrugging, Chris decided he might as well know the complete truth. Perhaps it would help dissolve his bitter distrust of her; help him to see that Sophie’s place was with her.

  “I’m talking about when I told you that my career came first. That wasn’t the truth. I was desperately hopelessly in love with you, but Natalie had just told me that you were going to marry her, what was I supposed to do? I couldn’t endure the pain of being rejected by you, so I went to Ray and told him I’d reconsidered his offer to help me become a model.”

  “You believed Natalie, just like that?”

  “Not just like that,” Chris admitted candidly. “I saw her in your arms one day. I’d come here to see you. You were in the drawing room together…”

  “That must have been the day she told me about the baby.”

  “She told me she was carrying your child…”

  Slater’s mouth had thinned, his eyes dark with anger. “She told me that you and Ray were lovers; that you’d told her you were tired of me, that you were going to leave Little Martin. She suggested we soothe each other’s pride by marrying. I was half off my head with jealousy at the time… I couldn’t bear to think that you didn’t love me.”

  Chris sat up, gathering the sheet round her. “She lied to both of us,” she said slowly. “Fooled us both…tricked us.” Unexpectedly tears started to well in her eyes and brim over on to her cheeks.

  “Chris, please don’t cry…” Slater’s arms came round her, her head resting on his chest. “It’s over…the whole thing, and we’re free to go on with our lives.”

  What he meant that he was free of whatever he had felt for her—free to marry Sarah, Chris thought achingly.

  “And you’ll let me have Sophie?” She winced as he shook his head.

  “Let you take away the only thing that’s kept me sane these last six years? Do you know why I loved her so much initially, Chris? Well it was because she looked so much like you. I couldn’t have you, but I could have a child who reminded me of you—who could have been our child.”

  When she looked at him uncomprehendingly he added thickly. “Chris, Chris, it isn’t too late for us. I still love you…you love me…”

  “You love me?” She said it wonderingly, despair giving way to joy.

  “Of course I damn well do.” He tilted her face up to meet his own, kissing her with a depth of emotion that banished all her lingering doubts. “Why do you imagine I was so anxious to get you back here; so disturbed to discover that you were still a virgin; so terrified that I might have hurt or frightened you that I daredn’t come near you because I knew that if I did, I’d make love to you again…and again…”

  “But Sarah,” Chris protested. “She…”

  “Sarah lied. I’ve never discussed marriage with her. I’d never marry her even if you didn’t exist, simply because of the way she feels about Sophie.

  “Chris, marry me just as soon as we can arrange it…”

  “What and give up my successful career?”

  She had only been teasing him, giving way to heady, drunken joy but the moment she saw the pain in his eyes she regretted the light words. “Oh no Slater…don’t look like that… I’d give up a thousand successful careers to be with you… Of course I’ll marry you.”

  “And Sophie?”

  “She’ll always be our eldest child. Perhaps one day we can tell her about Ray. I don’t believe he can have known about Natalie. He would never have suggested an abortion. Perhaps she knew he wouldn’t marry her and used that story to gain your sympathy. We’ll never know.”

  “Seven years of my life your cousin stole from us. Seven years when we could have been together, when I could have woken up with you in my arms. Watched you bear our children… Seven years of loving to catch up on.”

  “Then we’d better not waste time talking, had we?” Chris murmured archly. She stretched sensuously against him, delighting in his slow appraisal of her body, delighting in the freedom to show her love and know that it was reciprocated. “I love you Slater,” she told him softly. “I always have and I always will…”

  “I sincerely hope so,” he told her thickly, “because without you my life simply isn’t worth living.”

  * * * * *

  If you
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  NEW YORK TIMES bestselling author

  PENNY JORDAN,

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  THE SECRET HEIR OF ALAZAR

  The first book in her Seduced by a Sheikh duet!

  Gracie Jones spends one forbidden night with Malik al Bahjat—but he’s called to his duty as heir to the throne of Alazar before she discovers her pregnancy. When Malik learns the truth, he’s intent on crowning Gracie his desert queen!

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  THE SECRET HEIR OF ALAZAR

  CHAPTER ONE

  SHE MESMERISED HIM. Malik al Bahjat, heir to the throne of Alazar, watched the girl from afar. She wasn’t classically beautiful, but that was part of her charm. Golden-brown hair tumbled down her back in a riot of artless, unstyled waves and curls. Her face was freckled, hazel eyes glinting with humour, with hope, with happiness—three things Malik didn’t think he’d ever truly experienced.

  She sat on the arm of a sofa, long, golden legs tucked up, wearing cut-off denim shorts and a billowy white top, a pair of bright purple sneakers on her feet. Men were chatting with her, of course—they couldn’t keep their eyes off her. No one could. She vibrated with life, with the enjoyment of life, every curve of her lithe body vibrant and sinuous. She was so alive.

  And Malik had felt like a walking automaton for years, programmed for nothing but onerous duty. He took one step into the room, towards her. He didn’t usually go to parties. He was in Rome to assist his grandfather in negotiating a new trade deal with the European Union. Alazar had forged strong links with Europe, links that could stabilise his country’s fraught economy as well as the entire region of the Arabian Peninsula.