At His Convenience Bundle

by Penny Jordan

  Control had never been something Tess had had to work hard at; she had buckets of the stuff. How could surrender be fulfilling erotically or otherwise? From her comfortable position of smug security she had never been able to understand how women of her acquaintance—women who in every other way were strong and confident—could allow and actively desire to surrender that control to a man. Now she knew…boy, oh, boy, did she know!

  The memory of the driving, all-consuming need to be possessed still had an almost surreal quality to it. There was nothing surreal, however, about the warm ache of fulfilment that was snugly curled up low in her belly. The total belief that Rafe had been just as much a helpless victim of his desires as she had been of hers made her feel neither victim or defeated; in fact she’d never dreamt that this sort of fulfilment existed!

  She was vaguely aware that she ought to feel embarrassed. Maybe I will, she mused, when I’m able to think about what happened with cold, clinical objectivity. Tess had never felt quite this far away from clinical objectivity in her life! Mellow didn’t begin to describe the warm, satisfied glow that engulfed her. She’d never considered herself the uptight sort, but this was a new experience for her…and not the first of the day, she mused, a small smile tugging at the corners of her generous mouth.

  ‘To bed.’

  There was no sexual significance to his prosaic reply, but heat flooded her body. As foolish as it obviously was, she couldn’t deny that the sound of his deep voice seemed to be enough to send a shudder of desire all the way down to her curling toes.

  ‘Isn’t that a bit like shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted?’ She swallowed to lubricate the dryness of her throat, watching Rafe move to lock the door.

  ‘Do you fancy any Tom, Dick or Harry walking in to find you stretched out on the kitchen table?’ he enquired.

  Tess felt the first stirrings of unease threaten to spoil her laid-back mood. And small wonder, she reflected. He’d managed to conjure up a painfully stark image.

  ‘What a tasteless comment,’ she complained.

  ‘Crude but accurate.’

  There was no arguing with that even though she’d have liked to.

  Rafe used her silence to elaborate on his theme—quite unnecessarily, as far as she was concerned. ‘Can you imagine how swiftly that story would spread around the village?’

  Tess grimaced; she could. ‘I’d have to move house.’ She wasn’t entirely joking.

  ‘That might not be such a bad idea,’ he observed cryptically just before he dumped her on the bed.

  Tess lay there in an unselfconscious tangle of pale naked limbs puzzling over what he’d said. ‘What do you mean?’ she began.

  It was the expression on Rafe’s lean face as he looked down at her that made her lose the thread. It also made her intensely conscious of every inch of naked flesh she was casually flaunting.

  Of course he was staring; she was female and naked. Given the opportunity, wouldn’t most men stare at a naked woman? Any naked woman—any being the significant word here. Testosterone would win over manners every time.

  ‘I wish you wouldn’t look at me like that,’ she fretted with a disapproving frown.

  ‘Like what?’ he asked, without shifting the focus of his attention.

  ‘Like you’re salivating.’

  A laugh was wrenched from him. ‘Not visibly, I hope?’

  ‘You doing anything that wasn’t aesthetically pleasing…I don’t think so!’ He had to be the most naturally elegant creature she’d ever laid eyes on, she decided. Furthermore his grace was totally unstudied, an intrinsic part of him. No wonder she often felt challenged in the grace department in his company. ‘I’m sure you look pretty damned great with egg on your face.’

  Even though her spiky observation sounded more like a criticism than a compliment, her eyes were eating up every detail of his appearance. Tiny insignificant things delighted and fascinated her, like the oval-shaped mole just above his right nipple, and the way…dear God, Tess, anyone would think you were in love or something! Her eyes widened in acute anxiety. No, I can’t be, not now…not with Rafe!

  ‘You’re very kind, but all the same that’s a situation I prefer to avoid…Just to be on the safe side, you understand.’

  Tess didn’t respond to the whimsy.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Rafe frowned. The colour had fled so dramatically from her face that he thought for an uncomfortable couple of seconds she was going to pass out. Women didn’t normally look as though they were about to throw up after he’d made love to them.

  ‘I’m fine…absolutely fine!’ Her voice cracked comically on the last syllable.

  Her squeaking response didn’t make Rafe smile; his angular jaw set stubbornly. He refused point-blank to believe that she was regretting what had happened. He wouldn’t damn well let her!

  ‘You have to expect a bit of drooling, Tess, when you’re flaunting your beautiful body like this.’ His fierce grin showed signs of strain just before Tess, unable to stand the exposure any longer, slid awkwardly under the covers, her cheeks burning.

  A classic case of too little too late, she thought, feeling ridiculously gauche. It’s not as if there is much he hasn’t already seen, and even less he hasn’t touched.

  ‘That wasn’t a complaint. However,’ Rafe conceded with a regretful sigh, ‘it will make it easier to talk, and we do need to talk.’

  Easier for whom? she wondered. Rafe might have pulled on his trousers, though he hadn’t stopped to fasten his belt, but he wasn’t wearing his shirt. A face full of perfect pectorals made it hard for a girl to concentrate. Lust she could cope with, she told herself briskly—it was the other L word that made her jumpy.

  ‘Talk…about what?’ Not the start of a deep and meaningful relationship—that went without saying. She ignored the first stirrings of dissatisfaction in her breast. He was probably worried she’d start getting emotional and clingy, so now probably wasn’t the moment to tell him.

  ‘You don’t have to worry, Rafe, I know it didn’t mean anything.’ She managed a creditably light-hearted smile. He looked unaccountably annoyed, which seemed pretty unreasonable even by his standards.

  ‘I can see the attractions of your strategy,’ he reflected thoughtfully.

  Talk of strategy came as a surprise to Tess, who was having trouble with the simplest of mental processes. ‘What strategy?’ she puzzled.

  ‘If you think someone’s about to kick you where it hurts, get the boot in first.’

  To listen to him talk anyone would think she’d wounded him. She brushed aside that ludicrous piece of wishful thinking. ‘Since when did you get so sensitive? I’m sorry if you think I was being too blunt, but it’s a bit late in the day for us to start pretending.’

  ‘That would be foolish,’ he agreed gravely.

  Tess bit her lip. He was literally oozing polite disbelief.

  ‘I’m trying to keep this as painless as possible,’ she reproached. ‘There’s bound to be a bit of…awkwardness involved when you sleep with someone you’ve been friends with. I’m only trying to make this easier for you. I’m sure you’ve got too much on your plate to want any added complications—I know I have.’

  Right now she needed to devote all her energy to the Ben dilemma. There had never been a less appropriate time to pursue her own selfish pleasures. ‘At least we don’t have to worry about unwanted pregnancies.’ Smiling about this was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. And what did she get for her efforts…? He didn’t even look relieved.

  ‘Actually, I’ve no interest in debating how empty and meaningless you found our love-making.’

  ‘Don’t put words into my mouth!’ she protested.

  ‘Now there’s a sentiment I can identify with,’ Rafe came back grimly. He fixed her with a stern, unblinking stare and wasted no more time before introducing the subject that had been and still was uppermost in his mind. ‘The celibacy thing…just what sort of time scale are we talking here?’ he
enquired with deceptive casualness.

  Nothing could have sounded more offhand than her response…possibly too offhand, she worried. ‘A while…’ She threaded the fringe of the brightly coloured throw around her finger before arranging it in an artistically pleasing pattern against the white sheet.

  ‘A long while…? Will you stop doing that?’ he rapped abruptly, snatching the material from her restless fingers and seating himself on the side of the bed.

  ‘It might be,’ she conceded defiantly.

  He watched the flicker of emotion run across her deeply expressive face and cursed. It didn’t seem possible, but deep down he’d known that against all the odds he was right! Worse still, part of him—the politically incorrect, Neanderthal part—had felt a primitive gloating delight at the notion of being the first.

  ‘There’s no need to swear!’

  Rafe thought there was every need. ‘A long time as in never?’ He hit his forehead with his hand before dragging it through his thick mop of glossy dark hair. The expression on her face had said it all!

  ‘And if it is?’ she challenged, lifting her hot-cheeked face to his. ‘So what? There’s certainly no need to hold an inquest.’

  ‘We’ll have to agree to differ on that one.’

  ‘So what’s new?’ she flung at him carelessly. ‘Since when have we ever agreed on anything?’ He was the most unreasonable person she knew. Being friends is hard enough—whatever made me think that being lovers would work out any better? That argument lost its validity when she reluctantly acknowledged that thinking hadn’t had a whole lot to do with it at the time! Now, if you were talking blind lust, compulsion, frenzied urgency…

  Rafe’s chiselled nostrils flared as his sensual lips thinned. ‘I can’t believe you gave away something you obviously valued so highly so casually!’

  Was Rafe of all people lecturing her on morals?

  ‘It wasn’t casual!’ she yelled, coming up onto her knees and drawing the sheet with her up to her chin.

  The wariness in his sharp glance made her realise how easily what she had said could be misinterpreted…or not…?

  ‘I didn’t mean casual exactly,’ she contradicted swiftly.

  ‘I meant this was different…obviously.’

  ‘Obviously?’ he enquired unsmilingly.

  ‘It had been a very stressful twenty-four hours for us both.’ She gave an exasperated sigh as a stony-faced Rafe failed to display any appreciation of the point she was trying to make. ‘A series of freak circumstances.’

  ‘Not to mention insatiable lust.’

  ‘All right!’ she exclaimed. ‘Insatiable lust. There! Does that make you feel any better?’ He’d made her feel better—a lot better, and now he was spoiling it with this interrogation. ‘It’s not like I was waiting for Mr Right or anything,’ she assured him scornfully.

  ‘Well, you wouldn’t be, would you?’ he bit back.

  ‘Am I supposed to know what the hell you’re getting at?’

  ‘I’m saying the victim look does nothing for you,’ he announced brutally.

  ‘I don’t think of myself like that!’ Tess exclaimed, genuinely horrified that anyone could think she cultivated a martyred attitude.

  ‘No?’ Rafe’s dark brows arched sceptically. ‘You talk like you’re some sort of cripple…not quite a whole woman.’

  His accusation stung. ‘I’m just being realistic. I’m sorry if it makes you feel uncomfortable.’

  ‘Realistic!’ Rafe found himself responding furiously.

  ‘Self-pitying, more like, but don’t expect me to make any concessions for your disability! Thousands of people live perfectly productive, happy lives with real disabilities. You can’t have a baby—’

  ‘So what!’ she jumped in. How could a man, especially one as selfish and insensitive as Rafe, begin to understand?

  ‘Is that what you’re saying?’

  ‘I’m saying that it’s tough and unfair, but then that’s life. The fact you can’t have babies is part of what you are, like the colour of your eyes, it’s not who you are.’ His voice had become surprisingly gentle and Tess felt her throat grow tight with emotion. ‘There’s always adoption…?’ Two slashes of colour stained the sharp angle of his cheekbones as he watched her blink back the tears that sparkled in those vulnerable green depths. ‘Anyhow, you certainly felt all woman to me.’ His abrupt tone suggested she’d done this just to aggravate him.

  ‘I did?’ Hell, why don’t you just start purring, Tess? she asked herself bitterly. He’s just virtually designated you an emotional disaster area and all you can think about is some throw-away remark that he probably only added to make you feel better!

  She hardened her heart and her expression before she looked directly at him. ‘Pardon me,’ she said coldly, ‘if I don’t take advice from a man who thinks it’s a good idea to fall in love with a married woman!’ Remorse washed over her the instant the words were out of her mouth.

  Eyes coldly angry, he grinned humourlessly back at her, displaying a set of perfect, even whiter than white teeth. ‘You do go for the jugular, don’t you, angel?’

  ‘I’m sorr—’

  ‘Don’t apologise, you’re right. I think the children tipped the balance in the end.’ If she was going to look at him as though he was a moral degenerate, he might as well give her the opportunity to look all the way down her cute nose—yes, it is, isn’t it? he realized, looking at her small tip-tilted appendage with a surge of affection tinged with definite lust.

  That had always been the way of it with Tess. One minute you wanted to strangle her—his eyes darkened as they automatically flickered to the smooth, pale length of her slender throat—the next you wanted…Rafe stiffened. Actually, until very recently he’d never wanted to do that before.

  ‘She has children…?’ Tess gasped, looking shocked enough to fulfil even his cynical expectations.

  ‘Two. But aren’t we straying off the subject? Now, let me think…what was it? I know, virginity.’

  ‘I wish you’d leave it alone,’ she breathed wearily. ‘The fact is, I’m not terribly highly sexed.’

  There wasn’t even a trace of irony in her grave explanation. Rafe threw back his head and laughed. There was still mirth in his eyes when he’d managed to compose himself; the slashing white grin disappeared in deference to her icy disapproval.

  ‘You’re a tonic, Tess.’

  ‘I’m so glad I’ve managed to brighten your day,’ she responded frigidly.

  Not to mention complicate my life, he amended silently. He had a gut certainty—Rafe relied heavily on gut certainty—that there were ramifications to this he hadn’t even thought of yet!

  ‘It’s not like I’ve been deliberately holding onto it or anything. Actually,’ she continued, ‘I was in a fairly serious relationship and was on the point of…giving it away, as you so tastefully phrase it,’ she snapped, ‘when the doctor told me about…that I couldn’t…you know…I told Tom. It wasn’t as if we were going to get married or anything, but I thought he had the right to know.’ A faraway look entered her wide-spaced eyes as she recalled the events of five years earlier.

  ‘And Tom did what?’ Rafe asked in that deceptively languid tone.

  ‘He said he was sorry, but…’

  ‘The creep dumped you!’ Rafe ground out savagely.

  Tess shrugged. ‘Illness really freaked him out. I know I wasn’t ill, precisely, but he—’

  ‘Now I know where you got all these bloody stupid ideas from.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Rafe. I’m not denying I was hurt at the time, but it doesn’t matter now. He did me a favour really—’

  ‘You mean he jumped off the nearest high building?’ Rafe smiled in what Tess considered a sinister, scary way as he contemplated this scenario.

  Rafe could make sinister look not only scary, but sexy too…Tess instinctively knew it would be a bad idea to follow that thought to its conclusion, especially when all she had to do was reach out to touch acres of go
lden firm flesh…

  She jammed quivering fingertips under her knee and ran her tongue over the outline of her dry lips. ‘I mean,’ she explained brusquely, ‘that it made me see how pointless it would be to get seriously involved with anyone when there could be no future. I thought about casual sex,’ she confessed.

  ‘Don’t we all?’ he came back flippantly. Didn’t casual imply a fun, relaxed, no headaches, no emotional trauma situation? The throb in his temples kicked up another notch as she began to idly chew a stray strand of rich reddish-tinged hair.

  Once she’d even gone so far as to go clubbing with a friend whose idea of a good night out was to pick up an able and willing male—any able and willing male! It had taken Tess about half an hour to realise that it wasn’t the route for her to go. She could think of better ways to prove she was as liberated as a man!

  ‘Only I haven’t got the stomach for it.’

  ‘Until now.’

  ‘That was different.’ She gritted her teeth and wished he’d stop being so tiresome about the entire business.

  ‘So you keep saying. Why? That’s what I want to know.’

  Don’t we all? ‘I suppose you think I should have told you? The fact is, I didn’t even think about it…actually, I wasn’t thinking at all,’ she amended wryly, recalling with a deep blush the frantic urgency that had gripped her. ‘Except about…you know…’ She looked self-consciously away.

  ‘I know, all right,’ he conceded drily. A man who had slept with a vulnerable virgin ought to feel like a first-class heel—Rafe had—but that feeling was fading fast as his sexual interest was being stirred…actually, stirred was a pretty anaemic description of the prowling hunger that was beginning to twist his guts into tortuous knots. He suddenly had a strong mental picture of some other faceless male taking over where he’d left off and the muscles in his belly cramped hard in fierce rejection. It wasn’t in his nature to leave anything half finished.

  ‘It honestly wasn’t an issue for me. I don’t feel defiled or anything daft like that.’ With a laugh designed to illustrate how lacking she was in neuroses, Tess firmly rejected this idea. ‘If you must know I feel liberated…empowered, even!’ she elaborated, resorting to a humorously extravagant gesture. The gesture fell flat on its face at approximately the same moment the sheet slid down to her waist. She didn’t feel particularly empowered as she scrabbled to pull it up again. ‘I should have done it years ago,’ she gritted with determined and audibly forced humour.