by Amy Andrews
“C’mon, Addie,” he whispered as he taunted her with his fingers.
Adie shook her head, her hair flying around her head. “No.”
She looked magnificent with rouge in her cheeks and crystal at her throat, bra cups pushed aside. Wild and wanton. Nathaniel pressed harder, angled himself deeper. “Yes.”
She shook her head again and gasped, “No…not without you.”
Her husky words went straight to his groin and his orgasm hit warp speed. Three more thrusts and he vaulted up, pulling her close, gliding one hand up her back and anchoring it on her shoulder, his other hand keeping up the pressure between them.
“Yes,” he said against her mouth as a groan was torn involuntarily from his throat. “Now.”
And he kissed her hard and deep as he climaxed, feeling her stiffen and then buck against him as she joined him in the stratosphere, tearing her mouth away, her head dropping back as she moaned his name. His lips devoured her neck, his hips meeting each wild buck of hers as they rode the crest of their release.
The bite of her fingernails and her breathy whimpers drove him on, reaching for the remnants as if they were the embers of a shooting star, wringing every second of pleasure, holding on till the last spasm faded into the night.
When they were both spent and breathing hard, he collapsed back against the mattress, taking her with him.
They didn’t talk. Couldn’t talk. And even if they could, Nathaniel doubted there were words for what had just happened. He just tossed the garland aside and lightly stroked her back as they both drifted off to sleep.
Addie wasn’t sure how much time had elapsed when she next woke. But her back was curled into Nathaniel’s front, his lips were at her neck, his hand flat on her belly, and his erection was pressed against the cheeks of her bottom.
She smiled as she stretched against him, her eyes shut. “Is it five a.m.?”
His chuckle was warm on her neck. “Nope.”
“Mmm,” she murmured, rubbing herself back against him. “You feel good.”
“So do you,” he groaned.
Addie smiled as she half turned and met his questing lips. She opened to their demanding pressure, feeling heat flare in her breasts and belly. She moaned against his mouth and in seconds she was flat on her back, kissing him greedily, his hips nestled in the cradle of hers.
When he pulled back, they were both panting. “You know how to wake a girl up,” she said with a smile.
Nate smiled as he dropped his head to explore her collarbone. “I like to think I’ve perfected the art after all these years.”
Addie stretched her neck so his tongue could have access to all areas. “Oh definitely, top marks,” she murmured, her skin breaking out in goose bumps, her nipples beading. “What else can you do?”
Nathaniel lifted his head. “I do believe I saved your life. I think that makes you my slave, doesn’t it? So I guess the answer is, what can you do?”
Addie’s lips twitched. She should be shocked. Affronted that Nate would turn the purpose of this weekend into something so sordid—something so mercenary. But her belly was already tightening at illicit thoughts of bondage and she was just plain old titillated.
“My debt to you doesn’t include sexual favors,” she said primly. Or as primly as she could with a naked, aroused man nestled between her thighs.
“But what if that’s all I want?”
His voice was low and silky and oozed down her body like drops of warm oil. She knew that she should heed his words well—What if it was all he wanted?—but he was nuzzling her ear and her body was screaming at her like a junkie to play the game.
“What do you want me to do?” she asked.
He kissed her hard. “Come,” he said as he licked his way down her body.
Addie shut her eyes and curled her fists into the sheet as his head settled between her legs and his tongue swiped against her.
Now that she could do.
Chapter Eight
There was something leveling about the cold light of day and even on this relatively mild morning, Addie had already figured out how the next few hours would go down. Nathaniel would be keen to get back to London and to his busy-tycoon persona. And there were three ways she figured he’d handle the complication of her.
Option one. Be appalled at what had happened last night and seek to assure her it had been a moment of madness that Must. Not. Be. Repeated.
Option two. Keep up the lovey-dovey act until he dropped her off home and then never darken her doorstep again.
Option three. Suggest they keep something casual going.
She was expecting option one but suspected after their rather spectacular night together, option three might be in the offing.
Wasn’t that what rich men did? Keep mistresses?
Either way, she wasn’t foolish enough to believe that one night in bed with her, no matter how mind blowing, would have magically saved the garden or opened his eyes to the things he was missing in his life, and despite the brain-frying sex, she still remembered her mission statement—Show Nathaniel Montgomery how to stop and smell the roses.
Once that was done, she’d be free to continue her calm, centered, healthy life.
She just hoped that she wouldn’t get herself lost on the way. This weekend had shown her another side to the man she’d had pegged as a heartless tycoon.
And she was already dangerously attracted.
She glanced over at him sleeping soundly, feeling that crazy-stupid pull deep down in her belly. They were barely acquainted, yet she already knew too much about him. What he looked like naked, where he liked to be touched, the noises he made when he came.
Her toes curled at the thought and the urge to touch him, to wake him, to hear that sound one last time almost overwhelmed her. But she pulled back from the brink and gently eased away from him.
She had to be strong. Waking up next to him could send a message that would put her at a mental disadvantage—the I’m at your disposal message. And she couldn’t afford to be at any disadvantage with this man. She was going to need to be in top form to deal with him when he was cranky and resisting her efforts at reform back in London.
She needed to send a message right now that she was her own woman. What happened in Devon stayed in Devon. And lying around waiting for him to wake up so he could ravish her again did not send that message.
Either she had to do the ravishing or get the hell out of the bed.
She chose the latter. Despite how very, very much she wanted to dish out a damned good ravishing.
Nathaniel’s mother was in the kitchen when she came down. “Morning, Addie,” she said, automatically pouring a cup of tea and suggesting they drink it out on the terrace.
Addie complied happily and they sat in silence for a few minutes watching the early morning light play across the fields and the antics of the alpacas.
“This is a little piece of heaven you have right here,” Addie said, her hands wrapped around her mug.
Delphine sighed and nodded. “It’s a long way from the rush and hurry of London, that’s for sure.”
“You should run a farm retreat for stressed-out city people,” Addie mused. “Hill Top would be the perfect tonic.”
Delphine laughed. “Now that would give Nate a heart attack.”
Addie heard the strained note in the other woman’s voice and looked at her over the rim of the mug. “Do you worry that Nate’s heading that way?”
Delphine looked at Addie. “He has a high-powered, stressful job that he never takes time off from, and a father who died at forty-five from coronary disease. I know that Nate is fit and looks after himself, but genetics can trump all that. He never relaxes. Not even on the rare occasions we can lure him here. Well, except this time,” she added, and Addie could see the speculation in her eyes. “With you.”
Addie felt the guilt from yesterday return and the resultant prick to her conscience. Dishonesty really messed with her center. “Mmm,” she said nonco
mmittally.
“He’s so damn desperate to carry on his father’s legacy,” Delphine continued. “He idolized Nigel. Broke my heart when he wanted to go and live with him at fifteen.”
Addie heard the grief in the older woman’s voice. “That must have been hard.”
Delphine nodded. “But you know that old saying if you love something, set it free?” She shrugged. “So I did.”
“And did he come back?”
“Not really. Oh, I know he loves us, would do anything for us, but when Nigel died in such disgrace—I’ve never seen Nate so resolute. He made his father a deathbed promise that he’d steer the company into the billions, and even though Nate was only nineteen, he sat down and mapped it all out and figured that he could do it by the age of thirty-five. And he’s been working like a mad thing ever since.”
Aha! Suddenly, Nathaniel’s tearing hurry made sense. The St. Agnes project was obviously his ticket across the line. And she and the Save St. Aggie’s Garden collective were standing in his way.
“Bless him.” Delphine shot her a worried smile. “He’s determined to fulfill his father’s dying wish, but it’s taken over his life.”
Addie thought of her precious rose garden. Nigel Montgomery’s reputation had been marked by several shady deals and she doubted he would have thought twice about bulldozing two hundred years of history to reach the magical billion. Would Nathaniel’s deathbed promise to his father deafen him to reason?
“Like father, like son?” she asked.
“Oh, no,” Delphine said. “I like to think Nate had too many years of my sensibilities for that. He has a very strong sense of right and wrong and prides himself on it. Things are very black and white for Nate in that regard, whereas Nigel was quite happy to play in the gray areas. But”—she shrugged—“Nigel was still his father—still worked his way up from being dirt poor to a successful businessman, and Nate revered him for that.”
Addie opened her mouth to ask a question and shut it again—she barely knew Nathaniel’s mother. It was really none of her business.
Delphine raised an eyebrow. “Say it, Addie.”
“I guess I’m just wondering how you ended up with him. Your husband’s reputation was a little—seedy, if you don’t mind me saying, and you seem like a pretty straight arrow.”
Delphine gave a half smile. “Why do you think we got divorced?” Then she shook her head and stared into her cup of tea for a while.
“I have a penchant for collecting strays, and he was as lost and desperate for love as anyone I’d ever met. Nige had grown up in institutions, terribly poor but with this determination to make something of himself. To make the Montgomery name synonymous with wealth. His drive and ambition was infectious, and I loved him. I loved him till the day he died. Still do, I guess. But my love couldn’t compete with his ambition or the lengths he was prepared to go to.”
Addie could hear the disappointment in Delphine’s voice. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Delphine smiled, patting Addie’s hand. “He loved me in his own way—just not more than being rich. And it wasn’t enough for me.” She took a sip of her tea. “And that’s why I worry about Nate. And why I’m pleased he’d found someone like you. Maybe you can teach him that life isn’t all about your bank balance.”
Addie felt as if Delphine had taken a switchblade and stabbed it right through her conscience. She blushed. She couldn’t keep the pretense up any longer. “Oh, I’m so sorry we’re not—”
Delphine’s lips quirked and Addie frowned. “It’s okay,” she said. “Mum and I had already figured something was up. But points to you both for going all the way.”
Addie almost choked on her mouthful of tea. If only she knew.
“I was convinced Nate would crack and confess when it came to sharing that bed,” Delphine continued, “but you both stuck it out. Did he hire you?”
This time Addie did choke on the blunt inquiry as Delphine patted her on the back a few times. “He didn’t hire me,” she said, affronted, when she could speak, although it was hard to hold the moral high ground when she’d helped perpetrate a fraud on Nathaniel’s mother and grandmother.
Addie told the whole sorry saga then, and Delphine chortled away as it unfolded. “Oh dear, I wish I’d been a fly on the wall at that hospital.” She laughed some more, clutching her chest. “Oh Addie, you are a breath of fresh air. Just what my son needs.”
“I’m afraid your son isn’t overly impressed with me.”
“Well, I think you may be wrong there, but nonetheless, we’re impressed with you. The offer to sell our alpaca woolens in your shop and that gorgeous brooch you gave Mum for her birthday saw to that. You’re welcome here any day, Adelaide Collins.”
And she grabbed Addie by the shoulder and pulled her in for a hug.
Addie felt a swelling in her chest as she sunk into the motherly embrace. In just two short days, she felt more a part of Nathaniel’s family here on an alpaca farm in Devon than she’d ever felt with her own incredibly smart but incredibly egocentric parents.
“Er-hum!”
Addie broke away guiltily from the hug at the sound of a very male, very terse throat clearing behind them. Delphine wasn’t at all concerned.
“There you are, darling,” she said, leaping to her feet, smiling at her son as if he’d invented oxygen and something in the vicinity of Addie’s heart ached. “I’ll get some breakfast started. I know you’re busy and will want to be getting back to London.”
Addie watched his clean-shaven face smile at his mother. A genuine smile full of love that caused the ache to intensify. He reached for Delphine’s hand as she passed and gave it a squeeze. Then he glanced at Addie before following his mother inside.
She shivered despite the sun already warming the day.
Looks like it was going to be option one.
Be appalled. Be very appalled.
…
Nathaniel had woken this morning unsure of how he should act. All he’d known was that he felt more relaxed than he’d been in a very long time. And it felt good. Even his thigh and ankle seemed to have improved overnight, which was a damn near miracle considering the workout he’d given them between the sheets.
He’d even caught himself smiling in the mirror as he shaved.
But then seeing his mother hugging Addie had blown the pervasive calmness out of the water. What the hell had he been thinking?
That he and Addie could be together? That they were all going to move to Devon and wear alpaca ponchos and live happily ever after?
He and Addie had made a one-weekend deal.
In fact, he’d been bloody adamant about it.
Their lifestyles were chalk and cheese. They moved in completely different circles. And they were opposite sides of an issue—one of many, no doubt—that wasn’t going to end well for her side.
What did it matter that he’d woken with all his kinks ironed out? He liked those damn kinks. He needed them—they made him feel alive. He didn’t have time to relax, and he certainly didn’t have time for someone permanent. If he did, it wouldn’t be Addie Collins. Relaxed men got nothing done. And besides, she was just too damn disagreeable.
No, it was best to stick to the game plan. Drop Addie home, thank her for the weekend, then put her from his mind.
Of course, how he was ever going to forget the smell and the taste of her, he wasn’t quite sure. Or that breathy little whimper she made at the back of her throat when he kissed her. He’d been awake for more than thirty-five minutes and he could still hear it running through his head on some bizarre continuous loop.
Still, that’s what sixteen-hour days were for, right? No room for flights of fancy when you were working like a dog. He’d just get back into it. Keep slogging away toward his goal.
The goal, he reminded himself, she and her friends were trying to stop him from achieving.
And he wasn’t going to feel guilty about it. He needed the land the garden occupied. Or rather, the acces
s it provided to the main St. Agnes development. Without it, the budget for the project would blow out, severely affecting the bottom line.
Leaving him significantly short of his goal.
He’d bought it for a fair and reasonable price. It was his to do with what he wanted.
And he wouldn’t let great sex and physical rejuvenation screw with that plan.
“What time do you want to head out?”
Nathaniel turned as Addie entered the kitchen and was shocked that, despite his mental pep talk, an almost overwhelming urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her until she begged for mercy took hold. He kept his hands firmly planted on his hips.
“As soon as I’ve had some breakfast.”
Nathaniel was pleased his mother wasn’t in the room to witness the stiff exchange. But it was imperative that he keep on task. Following his urge to do her against the wall wouldn’t make the good-bye any easier.
“Have you eaten?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I’ve had a cup of tea.”
Nathaniel nodded as they avoided looking at each other for a moment or two. She was wearing her hair in a high ponytail this morning and he itched to take it out and watch it fall down around her shoulders—preferably while she was horizontal.
“I was going to bring you up some breakfast in a bit,” she said.
Nathaniel glanced at her, his pulse picking up as their gazes locked. No way would they have made it out of that bloody decadent bed if she’d brought breakfast up to him.
Damn it.
He took a step toward her, his gaze on her mouth, as the urge to touch her refused to be quelled any longer. “Addie—”
But his grandmother chose that moment to appear and he pulled himself back from the brink.
“Mmm, something smells good, my lovelies,” she announced.
…
The limo ride home was, as Addie suspected, exactly the same as the ride to Devon. All busy, busy, busy. Tap, tap, tapping on the laptop, shuffling of reports and the ring, ring, ring of incessant calls.
And, in between, a whole lot of silence.
Addie looked out the window, content to wait him out. She understood he was running scared. She’d seen the confusion in his eyes just as his grandmother had interrupted.
