Seasons of Sin: Misbehaving in summer and autumn... (Series of Sin)

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Seasons of Sin: Misbehaving in summer and autumn... (Series of Sin) Page 15

by Clare Connelly


  “You should be,” he agreed, cupping his hands around her rear and lifting her up. He pressed her against the wall, her body clear off the ground so that only his strength kept her aloft.

  “You were so angry with me,” she murmured into the kiss, remembering the expression on his face when they’d argued in Athens.

  His hands were pushing at her skirt, lifting it higher and he groaned in relief when finally he found her nakedness beneath. His fingers caressed her most sensitive flesh with exquisite care and she bucked towards him on instinct. “I hated that you were his. I hated that you loved him. I hated that you were loyal to him. I hated, more than anything, that he met you first.”

  She was torn between anger and sadness; rational thought was becoming difficult. In the end, she simply nodded. “I had to end things with him. It was a complicated situation that required care. But as soon as I ended it …”

  “You came to me. I know.” He pushed his jeans down just enough to free his aching erection. “You came to me and I treated you like shit. I was such a pig. You have every right to be angry.”

  He eased into her gently, watching as her face showed pleasure and relief.

  “This is unlike anything I have ever felt.” His body kept her pinned to the wall as he moved inside of her. She was powerless and yet the most powerful she’d ever been, also. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her fingers she dug into his firm shoulders.

  “I was never his,” she said in the throes of ecstasy that only Thaddeus could evoke. “I was never his like this.”

  His moan was a sound of guttural relief. “How can you say you do not want this?”

  “I didn’t say I don’t want this,” she corrected, digging her nails to his flesh as waves of pleasure became almost too much to bear. “If I could just have this without …”

  “Me?” He thrust into her hard, and her eyes flew open.

  Her laugh was shaky. “Without having to overthink everything else…”

  “Don’t overthink. Just enjoy.”

  “It’s …” she was tumbling over the edge of her pleasure threshold. Her mind was weakening. “Not …” Her body was spasming. She threw her head back, and it hit the wall. She laughed. “Not that easy,” she finished as an intense orgasm began to unfurl through her. She wrapped her legs more tightly around his waist and dipped her head into the crook of his neck. Her teeth bit his flesh. Her body was his. She was shaking with the strength of what they’d shared. But still he moved in her. Gently now, teasing out the feelings that were pulsing through her body, making her feel as though she could do anything she wanted in the world.

  “We … this is … we shouldn’t be doing this …” she said slowly, but her nipples were pressed against his chest, begging to be touched and tasted. “Is there … a bed?”

  “Too far.” He carried her without breaking their connection, laying her down on something cold and hard. She tilted her head and laughed to see that it was a dining table. And now, he pushed her shirt up, freeing her breasts as she’d hoped he would. His hands touched every stretch of her skin, sending goosebumps dancing along her sensitive flesh. His fingers twisted and twirled her nipples and then his mouth descended, his teeth pressing into them with just enough pressure to make her arch her back with need.

  “You really think we shouldn’t be doing this?” He demanded, as his body pressed into hers with renewed urgency. “You really think there is anything else we are meant to do, besides this?”

  “I’m lost,” she confided desperately.

  He shook his head, and wrapped her legs around his waist as he pulled her closer to him.

  “No. You are found. With me, you are found. It is when we are apart that you feel lost. Don’t you see that?”

  And she nodded, because she did. In that moment, she felt a shift of clarity and she knew it to be the truth of their situation. It knocked everything from her mind, leaving her free simply to be and to feel and to enjoy. She basked in the sense of completion that came from his body making love to hers. She gripped him and kissed him and cried his name into his home as she rode the waves of pleasure and laughed at the craziness of life.

  It took her a long time to come back to earth, but eventually her breathing returned to normal and she blinked her eyes open.

  Thaddeus was staring at her with the most curious expression. “I pushed you away because I was jealous and I was hurt. That night in Athens …” He shook his head. “I wanted to hurt you too. I wanted you to feel what I had. But my success has tormented me.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut against the strong emotions and memories.

  “I will never hurt you again.” It was a promise that he would have made with his blood.

  Saphire wanted to believe him. But the memories of that night had scored deep in her heart. She was torn between the love she felt, in his arms, and the pain she’d felt of his making.

  “I have something for you,” he said simply, reaching down and lifting a box from somewhere. She frowned, and angled her head so that she could see off the table. It was then that she realized he was still wearing his jeans. Her clothes were bunched about her. Their desperation hadn’t allowed them time to undress.

  “Here.” He held the small velvet box out and on instinct her fingers took it. She lifted the lid and stared in confusion at the gorgeous ring inside. It was a sapphire, surrounded by diamonds. And it was stunning.

  “What is this?” She said, finally, her heart hammering and her mind swimming.

  “I am not proposing. At least, not properly.” He linked his fingers through hers. “I got everything wrong last night. So I am going to try again.” He squeezed her hand. “What we just did … how we make each other feel … it is beyond explaining. It just is. A fact of life, as incontrovertible as gravity or the seasons.” He reached down and tapped a kiss against her cheek. He dragged his lips to hers and then whispered straight into her mouth: “I love you. I am in love with you. And I cherish you.” He lifted his head a little higher, so that her eyes could see his and read the sincerity there. His voice though was gravelly. “I want to cherish you for the rest of your life. I know, beyond a doubt, that you and I have everything we need to make a success of life together. More than that, right now, I feel that same weight on my chest you described. Life without you has been intolerable. I want to marry you. I want to have a family with you. I want to live together until we are old and grey and still sailing the ocean and staring up at the skies. I want to be your husband; and I want to be your friend in a way I wasn’t when you needed me most.”

  The color had drained from her face. The ring felt heavy in her fingers, but the doubts that had plagued her were drifting away, like icebergs in the far-off distance. “I’m … I’m not even divorced …”

  “I know.” He pressed a kiss to her hand. “This is why I am not really proposing now. I also know that you have found a job you love, and that you do not want to be distracted from that. I admire your commitment and part of my promise to you is that I will support you completely. You have never found a way to work, and I know how important work can be to one’s sense of self. Saphire, I ask only to be allowed to travel beside you. I do not wish to hijack your train.”

  He took the ring from her and slowly he glided it onto her finger. Saphire let him; perhaps it was shock that rendered her momentarily mute.

  “You have brought me to life. I never knew I wasn’t living until I met you. I never knew that everything else was stupid and redundant. This is all that matters.”

  His words were swirling through her brain, filling her with relief and happiness. He was staring at her, silently begging her to respond. And so she nodded. Her words were thick with emotion. “I know.”

  “You know?” His eyes scanned her face; hope sprung through him. “What does that mean?”

  She twirled the ring around her finger; it was a perfect fit. “It means that I love you.” She bit down on her lip, but the smile was breaking through. “It means that
I want to be with you. It means that I need you. As a lover, and as a friend.”

  “And one day a husband.”

  Her smile was radiant. “One day.”

  “And every day until then and after will feel just as magical as this day, because all that matters is that I have you with me.”

  She nodded slowly. It was all so perfect but already the practicalities of making it work were sinking in. “I need to be in Rome …”

  “And I will be here with you. I can travel and work from anywhere. You are my priority, Saphire. You. You beautiful, wild, wonderful, sexy, funny woman. I love you.”

  “You don’t know how good it feels to hear you say that …”

  “I love you,” he said simply and she knew, without an inkling of doubt, that he was telling the absolute truth. Their love wasn’t a matter of perspective, nor was it a question of opinion. It was a fact. It was a truth. And it was for keeps.

  EPILOGUE

  Two years later.

  “You look nervous,” Thaddeus observed as he glided the boat effortlessly toward its pontoon.

  Saphire’s eyes were lodged on the mansion in the distance. It glowed in the dusk light; inviting, yet so full of memories.

  She nodded jerkily. Her smile was hesitant. “We haven’t been here since … last time I left I thought I’d never see you again.”

  “Did you really think that?” He stalled the engine and threw the rope around the moor head. It latched first time. His arms were strong and capable as he pulled on it hard to bring the boat in tight against the dock.

  She shrugged. “I did. Then.”

  “You were wrong and I’m glad.” He put a hand out to help her onto the deck and them jumped athletically up behind her. She stood, staring contemplatively at the house.

  “You wanted to come here,” he reminded her.

  “I do. I know. I love this place.” She smiled at him, but there was worry in her eyes.

  He put an arm around her. His eyes followed her gaze then he squeezed her shoulder tight, comfortingly. “I no longer remember the pain.”

  She blinked up at him. “With me, you mean?”

  His smile was grim. “Any of it. What part does pain play in my life now I have you?”

  A frown tugged at her lips. “History isn’t something you should forget.”

  “I haven’t forgotten it,” he promised thickly. “I learned from it.” He kissed her hair; a breeze passed and lifted it, carrying the scent of her into the island. It seemed to sigh with profound relief. She was back, and everything was right in the world once more.

  “You did, huh?” She teased, loving his arrogance for all that it at times infuriated her.

  “I was too proud to make my peace with Aristotle.” It was a serious contemplation. His eyes were deep with the memories of his grandfather, as he regarded the iconic family home. “I was angry and childish, and I never bothered to try to fathom the reasons behind his decisions.”

  “You don’t know his reasons,” she pointed out. “Only that he cut your father off for falling in love.”

  “Yes.” Thaddeus shrugged. “And if my father felt for my mother what I feel for you then I see what a useless gesture Aristotle’s was.”

  Saphire’s heart turned over.

  “I would lose my fortune and my birthright a thousand times over to have you, Saphire. I would sacrifice anything for you.”

  She stood on the tips of her toes to brush a kiss against his cheek. Her voice was hoarse with emotion. “That’s not a choice you have to make.”

  “No. But my father did. And he made the right choice. The only choice he could have made.” He shook his head, as if to clear the thoughts. “But I should not have let it estrange me from Aristotle. I wish … and it is entirely futile to have such a foolish desire … but if I could have that time again, I would handle it differently.”

  She put her head on his chest and listened to the strong beating of his good, kind heart.

  “In this way, I have changed,” he said decisively. “I loved you, Saphire, and I almost let pride ruin it. I cannot believe that I came so close to letting you go.”

  “You didn’t,” she reminded him, almost hating to think back to a time when their future had not yet been assured.

  “No. When Rocco called to tell me that he’d seen you … I felt like I’d been given a thousand gifts.”

  A shiver danced down her spine. “Can you imagine what would have happened if he hadn't been at that party?”

  “I do imagine it,” Thaddeus promised, self-anger evident in his tone. “Or if you hadn’t taken that job, or if your boss had not been ill and you had not therefore been so visible at the event.” He kissed her head again, lingering now against her fine, soft hair. “And I curse my stupidity for leaving the most important decision of my life up to fate.”

  Saphire wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. “I don’t know,” she said simply. “I don’t think it was fate.”

  “No?”

  “You came to Rome. You told me you loved me. You made sure I understood just how much you love me. That’s not fate. That’s just … meant to be.”

  “Meant to be,” he agreed, dropping his hand and linking his fingers through hers. “Yes. That is most certainly true. From the moment I saw you walk onto the plane in London, something flicked inside of me.”

  “Even then?” She laughed unsteadily. “I was a mess.”

  “You were perfect,” he contradicted.

  “Imagine if I hadn’t found them in bed together.” Now a shiver of revulsion slid along her body. “I could still be married to him, living my life in a half-sleeping state.”

  “I would have found you,” he said simply. “Somehow, some way, somewhere, we would have met.”

  She laughed softly. “You know, for a billionaire tycoon, you have an incredibly soft side.”

  His nod was grave. “Only for you.”

  She smiled. “I know.”

  “And Anita? Is she still trying to befriend you?”

  Saphire nodded, but her features were composed. “I feel sorry for her, but I can’t see us becoming what we were ever again.”

  “I imagine you’d have trust issues,” he drawled. “As would she, given that Jordan did the exact same thing to her as he did to you.”

  “Obviously it’s just in his nature.” She shook her head. “It’s a shame, because there is enough in him to lead me to believe that he could be a really great guy. If he could just keep it in his pants.”

  Thaddeus laughed. “His loss, in this instance, will forever be my gain. I owe him a debt of enormous gratitude for the fact that he was such an idiot he let you go.”

  She lifted her gaze to his handsome face. “As do I.”

  “Well, Mrs Konstanides? Shall we?”

  The last lingering doubt rolled out to sea with the gently swelling waves. She flashed him a bright smile and then took a step towards the house. The first step towards the rest of their lives.

  “Well, it is our honeymoon,” she murmured and she was so focused on the house in their path that she didn’t see the way her new husband’s face glowed with the kind of happiness that could never be expressed in words. It was a happiness that could simply be lived; and they intended to live it every day for the rest of their lives.

  THE END

  SEDUCED BY THE VENGEFUL TYCOON

  First published 2017 © Clare Connelly

  Seduced by the Vengeful Tycoon contains references to a character’s past experiences with domestic violence. Some readers might find this triggering.

  PROLOGUE

  Though he’d never met her before, he recognised her instantly.

  Even without the grainy photographs he possessed of this woman, taken several years earlier when she’d been at the height of her indulged teenaged life, he would have known that she was his enemy’s daughter.

  Their eyes were the same.

  Enormous, like galaxies sparkling with ice and stone, rimmed in thick black l
ashes. Hers though were set in a dainty, elfin mask, framed by elegantly smoothed blonde hair. His had been belligerent, surrounded by a face that had long ago given itself over to ruddiness and middle age.

  Yet they were far more alike than they were different.

  Benedetto had met the father’s eyes, hoping to see some remnant of humanity and decency. There’d been none.

  With the background swirl of ballroom clutter and jazz music, he stared at them in her face and was besieged by disastrous emotions.

  For Benedetto Arnaud hated Augustine Beauchamp with a visceral passion that could never be expunged. He hated him with every single fiber of his body. He hated him as night must surely loathe day and flame disdain water.

  Staring now at Augustine’s beautiful, untouchable daughter he hated her too. She had that indefinable air of wealth and confidence that her ilk always wore like a second skin. She was princess-like in her grace, and he ached to unsettle that smug look of self-righteousness from her pretty face.

  Yes, he hated her, and her father, and all they stood for.

  Though she could at least be turned to usefulness.

  What was that old adage? Something about revenge being best served cold.

  Benedetto wasn’t sure about that. Hot, cold, he cared only that it be served at all, and that Augustine be made to suffer for his crimes.

  Crimes that could never be undone; wrongs that would never be righted.

  And this woman with her sylph-like body and pouting pink lips would simply be another wrong to add to the pile.

  His lips lifted not into a smile exactly, but into an indication of pleasure nonetheless. He watched her take the stage and the plan began to form, as if by magic.

  Revenge whispered to him and he listened, rapt and ready. Its promise was seductive; its power a bewitchment too enticing to ignore.

 

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