Runaway Groom

by Sally Clements

  Nothing.

  She pulled away, stared up into his hooded eyes.

  “Are you sure?” His voice was so deep it was almost a growl.

  “Yes.”

  The moment she spoke, his hands rose from his sides and clasped her hips tugging her closer. His mouth lowered to hers, and this time he was fully present. Kissing him was right, was what she wanted, needed, yearned for. His tongue tangled with hers and a blaze of heat turned her blood molten.

  His hands slipped under the loose hem of her shirt, slid up her warm back.

  The need to have his skin against hers was urgent, so her fingers fumbled to undo the buttons of his shirt. Why were there so many of them?

  His mouth lifted from hers a fraction and its corners turned up. “You’re growling.”

  “Shirt. Buttons.” Frustration made her frown.

  His fingers took up the task, and when it was unfastened he shrugged one shoulder then the other from the shirt and threw it on the floor.

  “That’s better.” Her hands slid over his wide expanse of golden skin, feeling the warmth against her palms.

  He removed the rest of her clothing, unfastened his jeans and shrugged them and his boxers off.

  The feel of his hands stroking her skin all over was so erotic her legs trembled. It wasn’t clear who moved first, maybe they both did, but in moments the soft wool of the fluffy white sheepskin rug tickled her back, while her side warmed from the heat of the fire. Matthew lay over her, his thigh between hers, hands bracketing her head.

  His dark brown eyes were almost ebony. Her heart expanded at the look in his eyes.

  Warm lips trailed across her mouth, teased her jawline, nuzzled her neck.

  “You taste nice.”

  “Nice?” she murmured. “Only nice?”

  He moved lower, licking around her erect nipple, then tasting it. “Like honey and cream.”

  Squirming was pretty darned unladylike, but she did it anyway, feeling his erection twitch against her upper thigh in response.

  He was killing her. Inch by inch as his mouth dusted over her stomach and his fingers stroked over her stomach to the apex of her thighs. She wriggled again.

  “Hold still.” His warm breath puffed over her and her back arched in ecstasy. He had to be closer, had to be…

  His thumb brushed against her sensitive nub effectively obliterating thought.

  His name burst from her lips, wrapped in a moan. She was on total sensory overload. The warm wool beneath her, his hot body covering hers, his fingers stroking her inner thighs, encouraging her to open her thighs further. When he tasted her she bit her lip in a vain attempt to keep silent.

  It was a losing battle.

  His tongue was truly magical, and just when she couldn’t hold back any more, he slid one finger, then two into her and transferred his mouth’s attention to her nub.

  April grasped his shoulders. Her body tingled all over, and her muscles tensed. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as her foot rubbed along the side of Matthew’s thigh. The wave of sensation swelled, overwhelming in its power and intensity, crashing over her and dragging her under.

  As blood thudded through her veins, Matthew shifted up and lay on his side next to her. His hand stroked up her arm then he pulled her close. She rested her forehead against his, their mouths mere millimeters apart.

  The slow movement of his hand over her back was delicious.

  Her limbs were heavy and warm satisfaction spread through every inch of her body. Her eyelids drifted closed.

  His mouth met hers, firm lips caressing hers slowly and gently.

  April breathed in his scent, the warm scent of sandalwood mixed with man. His chest brushed against the tips of her breasts, igniting the flame again.

  “Mmm.”

  His tongue tangled with hers, and the momentary sleepiness dissipated instantly, replaced by a need for more.

  Her palm skimmed the powerful muscles of his back, slid down to his rear.

  “Hold that thought,” he murmured against her lips. He stood and walked to his discarded clothing, snagged a small foil packet from his jeans, and returned to the rug. “We could go upstairs to bed, you know.”

  She smoothed the soft wool rug with her palm. “Or we could just stay here for a while.”

  Passion blazed in his dark eyes. Her gaze dipped lower to the hard evidence of his arousal.

  Her mouth curved in a sexy smile. “Come on over here.”

  He didn’t have to be told twice, opening the packet and smoothing protection over his erection before joining her.

  Every touch, every taste, every moment he wasn’t inside her was a torment she couldn’t bear. His chest flattened hers, and she angled her legs apart, wrapping them around him. The feel of him at the juncture of her thighs…

  “Look at me.”

  April’s eyes opened.

  Matthew’s expression was so intense it was almost fierce. He kissed her hard, all the time staring into her eyes as he inched carefully into her. Her fingers pressed into his back, urging him on, and at the encouragement, he thrust into her, filling her completely.

  The intensity of their coming together physically was dwarfed by the overwhelming intimacy of their inner connection. For the first time ever, this was not just about the physical act, but about something more. The beauty of it, the soul-deep oneness of the two of them made April clutch Matthew closer as the thrusts intensified and quickened.

  When the quickening of her orgasm stirred, his did too, bringing them to thunderous climax together.

  *****

  Matthew woke early and called the office. He’d been putting in many extra hours over the past couple of months; he could afford to take a day off. And after last night, the last thing he felt like was braving the traffic and being closeted in a dark room for the day.

  Unless that room was his bedroom—which right now contained a sleeping April.

  He poured two cups of coffee and padded back upstairs. Last night had been incredible. The relief of not having lost her had clutched at his throat when she walked to him in the sitting-room with intent in her azure eyes. And when she pressed her lips against his…for a moment his brain-cells had shorted out.

  Sex before the fire had been incredible. And when they’d linked hands and climbed the stairs to his bedroom, the thought of sleep had been far from both of their minds. He couldn’t get enough of her, and luckily the feeling was mutual. Eventually at about four in the morning their bodies were sated, but then they’d talked. Really talked. Until the shell pink in the sky spearing through the gap between the curtains painted dawn over the sky.

  Then she’d turned her back to him, and edged back so every inch of her was pressed against his front, he’d wrapped his arms around her and fallen in a deep, dreamless sleep. Holding April was right. Having her in his bed perfect.

  So perfect he wondered what the hell he’d got himself into.

  The sexual tension between them had been so intense, he’d felt sure once they made love the urge would abate, but in fact the opposite was true. He wanted her more than ever.

  There was no way on earth April was the one. No way he’d settle down and embrace matrimony with the one person he thought he’d never feel like that for.

  It wasn’t just the complication of her being June’s sister, it was more. The unwillingness to trust wound tight with the reluctance to be made a fool of again and tangled around his insides.

  Having her in such close proximity, living in his house, cooking his meals, and being here every time he came home had forced an unreal intimacy. Now they’d added sex into the mix, the intimacy had deepened. Matthew pushed away the memory of staring into her eyes, staring into her soul, as they made love. Something inside had shifted in that moment, as though the wall guarding his heart had crumbled a little.

  He didn’t like it.

  The smart thing would be to help her move out as soon as possible—to shore up his defenses. For the life of him, he couldn’
t let her go yet. Maybe in a week or two the passion blazing between them would burn out and they could go back to their regular lives.

  April sat up as he came into the bedroom, clutching the sheet against her perfect breasts.

  Her eyes widened. “I thought you’d left.”

  “I decided to take the day off.” He handed over one cup of coffee, placed his own on the bedside table and climbed back into bed.

  A week or two, but until then…

  Chapter Ten

  Spring was in the air. London’s parks filled with daffodils, and light stretched the dark evenings. There was no reason any more to stay in Matthew’s house. The collection was finished, and June’s dress too. A check had arrived from the insurance company in charge of her claim for the damaged dresses, giving April some wriggle-room, loosening the binds tying her to Matthew.

  I don’t want to go.

  They didn’t talk about her moving out. When he came home they kissed with an urgency bordering on desperation and tumbled into bed. She’d become mesmerized by his smile, captivated by his laugh, hungry for his touch.

  What was only ever supposed to be an affair had become something more. Something dangerous. Daydreams of her future inevitably included him.

  She missed the contact with people in the coffee shop. Missed the ability to have her friends over—somehow inviting them to Matthew’s house always felt wrong, especially as he avoided every opportunity to meet them. His house was spotless, and the silent house was beginning to feel like a prison.

  April carried another of the chairs out of the kitchen and then pushed the kitchen table into the hall. She’d picked up a bottle of liquid polish on her last visit to the store. Keeping her hands busy was one way of diverting her thoughts, and a thorough mopping of the floor followed by an application of polish would eat up more of the empty hours until Matthew came home.

  She had half the floor washed when the phone rang.

  “Hi, April. It’s Elizabeth.”

  It seemed like forever since she’d spoken to her landlady and boss. April shoved the mop into the bucket of foamy water and perched on a chair in the hallway. “Hey! How’s it going?”

  “Good. That’s why I called actually. The work is done on The Coffee Haven, and we’re almost ready to re-open. I’m calling all the old gang to see if anyone can come back to work. The apartment has been refurbished too, and I wanted to offer you first option on it.”

  Her old life was right there, at her fingertips.

  “I know you may have found somewhere else…”

  “Actually…I’m still staying with a friend.”

  “Having to move out—and the damage to your collection… I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to move back in.” Elizabeth’s voice was hesitant. “But if you do I’d like to offer you three months without paying rent. To make up for it.”

  April wiped her palm against her jeans. “When’s the Coffee Haven opening again?”

  “The week after next, if I can round up enough staff.”

  April bit her lip. Matthew didn’t need her. Not really. She breathed in. “I’d like to come back to both.”

  “That’s great!”

  They finalized the details.

  Tonight, when Matthew came home, they’d talk. If she stayed it would be because he’d asked her to. Because there had been a decision made between them to move their relationship to the next level.

  The thought of more was frightening. Relationships didn’t last, but her feelings for Matthew were all consuming. She couldn’t deny them any longer in the hope of avoiding heartache.

  Maybe he didn’t want more. Maybe sleeping together every night was enough for him, but it wasn’t enough for her. She had to have more.

  It was tempting to hold on to what they had. To enjoy the moment without rocking the boat. But right now they were like a boat adrift, floating without purpose. She was making a grab for the oars—with luck she wouldn’t capsize them in the process.

  *****

  The house was dark when Matthew came home. He flicked the light on in the hall and frowned. Chairs and the kitchen table blocked the hallway. He dropped his briefcase and then squeezed past them into the dark kitchen.

  There was a dark shape slumped in the corner of the room. He fumbled for the switch, flooding the room with light. “April?”

  She was huddled in the corner.

  “April?” He said louder. Was she hurt?

  She stirred. Her head rose and sleepy eyes blinked.

  “What are you doing?”

  A bottle of liquid sat on the floor before her, and a damp sponge.

  “Ah.” Her face reddened. She ran her tongue over her lips. “What time is it?”

  “Late.”

  She reached out and touched the shining floor in front of her. Picked up the bottle and sponge and got to her feet. “I was putting polish on the floor.”

  “But why are you in the corner?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I…”

  He finally got it. The reason she looked so damned embarrassed. “You painted yourself into a corner.”

  Her gaze lifted. She grinned. “I know. It’s totally stupid, isn’t it? Everyone knows you start at the far reaches and wax in, but I was distracted and before I knew it I’d boxed myself into this corner.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I must have fallen asleep waiting for the damned stuff to dry.” She held up the bottle. “It takes an hour, apparently.”

  She stepped forward on fluffy-sock clad feet. “I’ll just finish this and start dinner.”

  Matthew walked into the room and took the polish from her hands. “Forget it. We’ll go out.” They hadn’t left the house for days. With other women, he’d taken them out to dinner and dates but with April they’d fallen into a rut of eating at home like an old married couple.

  She reached for the bottle. “It will only take a minute to finish up.”

  As usual, she was acting the good housekeeper. He hated it. He didn’t want her to wait on him, to be responsible for keeping his house in order any more.

  “Leave it.”

  “If I leave it, we’ll have to wait even longer to put the furniture back.”

  “Fine. I’m going upstairs to change.”

  He stalked away, frustration roiling in his gut. She was always here. Always waiting. He’d lived alone for so many years; the constant sharing set his teeth on edge. He was so damn dependent his heart pounded as his feet quickened as he drew closer to home every night. His appetite for April was out of control. Most evenings he couldn’t wait to touch her, to take her to bed. Instead of wanting her less as time went on, he wanted her more.

  Yesterday he’d even blown off a meeting to come home at lunchtime to spend time with her. Her absence had filled him with a mixture of relief and annoyance. Relief that she wouldn’t be aware of just how obsessive he’d become, and sexual frustration that she wasn’t there.

  In the bedroom Matthew stripped off his suit. He tossed his shirt into the empty hamper. She was so damned efficient. Doing his laundry, keeping his house clean. Preparing delicious meals every night.

  With a curse he grabbed jeans from the wardrobe.

  “You’re in a crap mood.” She stood in the doorway, watching him.

  “I’m hungry.”

  She sat on the bed and pulled off her thick socks. “Let’s go out then.” She slipped her feet into shoes, and grabbed her bag from the floor.

  She’d expressed a hankering for pizza, so they hadn’t travelled far, just walked up to the pizzeria at the corner. Now, as he waited for the waitress to bring their meals, Matthew regretted the choice. The tiny restaurant was filled with people.

  April swallowed a mouthful of red wine. “I heard from Elizabeth today.”

  Elizabeth? He searched in his memory, but came up empty.

  “You remember Elizabeth? My landlady and boss?” Her head was tilted to the side, and the space between her eyebrows creased with a frown. They’d barely exchanged
a word since he got home, so she was justified in feeling annoyed.

  “Oh yeah, Elizabeth.”

  Their pizzas were put down on the table with a flourish by the waiter. When April smiled at him, he smiled back.

  “Anyway…” She picked up a piece of pizza and chewed off a hunk. “They’ve finished the repair of the coffee shop and offered me my job back.”

  Whatever he’d been expecting, it hadn’t been that.

  April looked down at her plate. “The apartment has been refurbished too. She asked me if I wanted to move back in.” The fingers of her right hand curled into her palm. Silence hung in the air for long moments. She was waiting for something. Something from him.

  Do I want her to move out?

  Before he had time to process the thought, April started talking, rapid-fire.

  “I told her I would. And I’m going to have to give you notice on the job too.”

  “Give me notice? Is that all I am to you, a job?”

  Her gaze pinned his. “You know damn well you’re more to me, Matthew. But living with you was only ever going to be a part-time thing, wasn’t it?”

  “Things changed, though. Didn’t they?” He didn’t know why he felt so angry, but the urge to punch something made his muscles tense. “We started something.”

  “Yes.” She crossed her arms, meal forgotten. “But me living in your house, dependent on you for everything isn’t real life for either of us. We didn’t make the decision to live together like this. It just happened.” A muscle twitched in the corner of her jaw.

  “Are you saying you don’t want to be with me anymore?” Jeez, he sounded pathetic. And why exactly he was questioning her decision when earlier he’d had exactly the same thought, he didn’t know. The thought of coming home to a house without her in it made his stomach clench, but at the same time, he wasn’t ready to commit.

  Maybe he’d never feel ready.

  “Do you want me to stay? To make this permanent?”

  There was no point in lying. “No.”

  April pulled in a shaky breath, and reached for her wineglass with trembling fingers. “I’ll move out at the weekend.” She drank deeply.