‘No one can be quite as two-dimensional as the press seem to like to paint your Surgeon Prince alter-ego,’ she breathed, willing the shutters to stop rolling down over his eyes.
‘You’d think,’ he offered flatly. ‘But they’re right about me. The bar brawl, the women, the flashy lifestyle. All things a girl like you would be best staying away from.’
It was impossible not to bristle, even as her entire body lamented the way he was pulling back from her.
‘I’m twenty-eight, hardly a mere girl.’
‘But too nice to get chewed up and spat out by the press, which, I can assure you, would happen if I kissed you the way I want to.’
It purred through her, starting at her toes and gaining speed and strength, until by the time it reached her head the roar was so loud in her ears that Archie was almost shocked the entire party couldn’t hear it.
He wanted to kiss her. Kaspar wanted her.
‘Let me get this straight.’ She had no idea how her vocal cords even remembered how to speak. ‘On one hand the infamous playboy Kaspar Athari is telling me that he lives up to his depraved reputation and on the other he’s trying to protect mine by not sleeping with me?’
‘Call it a Christmas miracle.’
‘You’re quite a few months out,’ she pointed out shakily. ‘What would people say if I told them you weren’t quite the bad boy they think you are?’
‘They wouldn’t believe you,’ he answered simply.
It felt like a sad fact.
Worse was the fact that he was pulling away from her. Ironic that she’d been right about him being the old, good Kaspar deep down, and that it was exactly that Kaspar who was trying to protect her now. Even though he still didn’t recognise her.
She couldn’t let that happen.
She couldn’t allow this one opportunity to slip away from her because she’d let the last few years beat her down. She’d promised Katie she was getting back to her old self. She’d sworn to herself on that skydive that it was the moment she finally stepped away from the mess of the last five years or so.
If she wanted Kaspar, she was going to have to prove it. And she was going to have to tell him who she really was.
Leaning forward before she could second-guess herself, Archie fitted her mouth to Kaspar’s. And she kissed him.
CHAPTER FOUR
IT WAS ONE of the most extreme, adrenalin-fuelled rushes of Kaspar’s life. Like nothing he’d experienced before. Ever.
And it was only a kiss.
What would it be like to touch every millimetre of her? Taste her? Bury himself inside her? He’d never wanted a woman with such fierce intensity. Fighting the need to possess her with his body in exactly the way he was now possessing her with his mouth. Claiming her and stamping her as his.
He angled his head, the fit becoming tighter, snugger, and when his tongue scraped against hers, she answered it so perfectly that he felt it through every inch of his being. Her body surged against his as though she couldn’t get close enough and her arms looped around his neck as though she couldn’t trust her legs to stand up on their own.
Kaspar wasn’t sure that his own could.
What was it about this woman?
A few minutes ago he’d been priding himself—not to mention surprising himself—on the urge to protect her by staying the hell away from her. Then she’d kissed him and he’d lost the tight sense of self-control he’d honed to perfection over the last fifteen years. Despite what the press said about him.
The urge to press her to the pillar and shut out the rest of the partygoers was almost overwhelming. But if he did that, he was afraid he would lose himself completely. Here, in a dark corner of a club. He couldn’t even think straight. He would never know how he found the strength to pull away.
She looked startled, then embarrassed, but before he could say anything she was already pulling herself together.
‘Tell me that wasn’t all you’ve got?’ Teasing him again. But he didn’t miss the undertone, the hint of uncertainty.
Somehow it only made him want her more.
Ignoring the alarm bells going off in his head, Kaspar forced himself to step away from her. The sense of loss was as shocking as it was nonsensical. He placed his hand at her elbow, telling himself it was only to guide her away from their current position, but he knew that wasn’t entirely true. It was an excuse to touch her again.
‘You mentioned getting out of here?’ he muttered. A statement disguised as a question.
‘Yes. Hell, yes.’ She started forward, then stopped abruptly and placed her hand on his chest, the shake of her fingers betraying how much effort it was taking her. ‘Before we do, there’s something I need to tell you.’
Kaspar fought the bizarre urge to throw her over his shoulder and carry her out.
‘Can it wait?’
Talking was pretty much the last thing on his mind right now.
‘I guess.’
He couldn’t decipher her expression. Guilt? Or relief?
In that instant, it didn’t matter to him. His fingers closed around hers and he couldn’t seem to lead her away fast enough. Anticipation made him feel drunk even though he hadn’t touched a drop all night—rarely did, despite what the press loved to report—but no alcohol had ever made him feel like this. Like Archie made him feel. He made a brief call to his chauffeur to bring the car around. He just wanted to be alone with her. He needed to be, like the hormone-ravaged teen he’d never been.
Ducking down the stairs and past the few photographers milling around was easier than he’d expected, and his car was waiting right outside the door, Still, it was all he could do not to bundle her inside.
‘Mine or yours?’ he asked, wanting her to feel in control.
‘Mine.’ She didn’t hesitate. ‘I don’t want to run another gauntlet of photographers.’
She probably wouldn’t, but he didn’t intend to argue.
* * *
‘Come here.’ His voice was raw, aching.
Obediently, she shuffled across the back seat towards him, having given the driver her address, but he could see her mind still whirring, and knew she was going to try that talking stuff again. It was a complication he could do without. Scooping her up, he hauled her into the air before settling her on his lap. His body tautened with approval.
‘Much better.’
‘Much,’ she managed.
And then his mouth was claiming hers again, his hands roaming her body as she straddled him, the way he’d so urgently wanted to do in the club. From the exquisite curve of her calves to toy at the back of her knees, and then up those impossibly long thighs. But instead of going higher, he toyed with the hem of her short dress, then traced a path up her body instead, over the top of the metallic tassels. The material remained a barrier between them, the halter neck almost taunting him as it concealed her breasts from his gaze.
He cupped her chin with one hand, allowing the other to slide into her mass of blonde hair and cradle the back of her head. And for her part Archie met him stroke for stroke, making an exploratory journey of her own over his shoulders, his arms, his torso. She traced every curve and muscle and sinew, and let her head fall back as he scorched a trail of kisses from her mouth, down the elegant line of her neck and to the hollow by her clavicle. Her intoxicating scent filled his nostrils and heightened his senses.
With every sweep of her tongue and graze of her nails, she was driving him wilder and wilder. The fact that her fingers trembled as they undid the buttons of his dress shirt only added to the delicious tension. He yearned to know every inch of her. Intimately and completely. Reaching up, he unhooked the clasp at the back of her neck and allowed the two sides to fall down, exposing the most incredible breasts and hard, pinkish-brown nipples, which seemed to call out to him.
Kaspar couldn’t resist. He ben
t his head and took one perfect bud in his mouth, his tongue swirling around it before he tugged on it. Just the right side of rough.
Her sharp gasp was like a caress against the hottest, hardest part of him. And then she offered the other breast for the same and as he obliged he couldn’t stop a groan of desire slipping from his lips. He liked this bold, demanding side of her. He didn’t know why, but he got the impression it wasn’t a side of her that everyone got to see.
The idea appealed to him far more than it should have.
Lifting his hand, Kaspar lavished attention on one breast as he lowered his mouth to the other. Sucking on the nipple and then drawing back to watch her shiver as the cool air did the rest. He tried it again. And then again as he swapped sides. Until she wriggled on his lap, unmistakeable heat against the most sensitive part of his body. He reacted. Already hard, he was now so solid it was almost painful. Aching to touch her wet heat, to slide inside her.
But not here. Not in the car. With anyone else maybe he wouldn’t have cared, but no one else had ever turned him on with quite the feverish quality that Archie had. He only knew he wanted more with her, and not on the back seat of a car.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked, sensing his change of attitude immediately.
Moving his hands to her hips, Kaspar shifted her backwards slightly. Enough so that every tiny movement of her hips didn’t make his body throb quite so tightly.
It damn near killed him.
‘Not here. Not the first time,’ he managed hoarsely.
‘The first time?’ She arched one eyebrow as though that would distract him from the way her body quivered on his lap. Her pent-up tension equal to his. ‘You’re optimistic.’
‘Once isn’t going to be enough,’ he bit out, the rawness in his own voice catching even himself by surprise. When had that become a fact? ‘You must know that.’
The distinct hitch of her breath didn’t help. But whatever answer she might or might not have been about to give was cut short when the driver pressed the intercom to let them know they’d arrived, moments before the car pulled up.
He could barely believe the ridiculous way he couldn’t seem to think straight with this woman. She made him lose his head.
Worse, a part of him liked it.
* * *
Archie opened the door to her apartment and reached for the lights.
Her skin still sizzled at the mere memory of his touch. It was impossible to shake the presentiment that she would never again be able to quash this shiver that ran so deep inside her. She had absolutely no idea how she managed to keep her voice so calm.
‘So here we are.’ She licked her lips anxiously. This was the first time she’d ever had a man back to her home. In fact, this was the first home she’d ever had by herself. ‘In my apartment.’
Kaspar looked around.
‘Nice place. Been here long?’
She shifted her weight from one leg to the other. This was her chance to tell him.
‘Ten months. Since my marriage fell apart.’ She shrugged, as though it hadn’t felt like yet another catastrophic failure on her part, in her litany of mistakes over the last five years.
‘You were married?’ He made no attempt to hide his shock.
‘For almost four years.’
‘What happened?’
‘I thought I loved him. I thought he loved me.’ Another shrug as she desperately tried to keep the evening light. ‘In hindsight, we rushed into it. My father had just died and my brother had emigrated. I was looking for something to fill a void, and Joe was it. He was kind and he cared for me. It was a mistake.’
She couldn’t tell him about Faith. She wouldn’t be able to dismiss that loss as lightly. Besides, he was still processing the bombshell she had just dropped.
But what choice had she had? He’d rebuffed her attempts to talk to him. To tell him.
‘Your father had died, and your brother had emigrated?’
He raked his hand through his hair. A nostalgia-inducing young-boy action she hadn’t seen in any press photograph of him for years. Perhaps ever.
She swallowed, her tongue feeling too thick for her shrinking mouth. Then she raised a shaking hand to a small cluster of photos on the wall. They could say all the things she couldn’t.
He peered at them. Stepped closer. Stared harder.
She imagined she could see his eyes moving from one to the other. Photos of Robbie, of her father, of herself. And even the one with Kaspar himself.
The growing look of shock on his face twisted in her gut. He honestly hadn’t had any idea. The knowledge clawed at her insides. The silence crowded in on them. Sucking every bit of air from the room, making it impossible for her to breathe. It was an eternity before Kaspar spoke, the words hissing out of his mouth like some kind of accusation.
‘Little Ant?’
Despite his incredulity there was also a tenderness in the way he said her old nickname that pulled at her in a way she hadn’t been prepared for. And he’d addressed her as an individual in her own right, not simply as Robbie’s sister, which had to mean something, didn’t it?
Even so, he was already physically backing away, heading towards the door. And she hated it. Now, more than ever, she wanted that connection with him. The moment they had never had.
Abruptly, desperation lent her an outward strength. Her voice carried an easy quality that she hadn’t felt for years, even though her internal organs were working as hard as if they were completing some marathon or other.
‘It’s Archie now,’ she offered redundantly. Awkwardly.
‘God! I kissed you.’
Whether he was more disgusted at himself or at the kiss, she couldn’t be sure. Either way, it was everything she’d feared.
‘We kissed each other,’ she corrected, madly trying to slow her thundering pulse. ‘Oh, don’t tell me you’re suddenly getting all funny about it.’
‘Of course I am,’ he snarled, his eyes glittering. Dark, and hard, and cold...and something else. Something she couldn’t identify. ‘You used to be the closest thing to a little sister.’
He headed for the door, unable to sound more disgusted if he’d tried.
‘Exactly. Used to be,’ Archie echoed, refusing to cow at his tone, however it might claw at her. ‘It has been fifteen years, Kaspar, and you didn’t even recognise me. To all intents and purposes I’m no different from many other women at that party.’
‘You aren’t any other woman at that party. You’re Little Ant. You’re far more innocent than any of them.’ He reached for the door, opened it, and she’d never felt more powerless. ‘Certainly for someone like me. I have to get out of here. Now.’
And suddenly everything slowed down for Archie. She could read the anger and anguish at war on his face, and she realised what was going on. It bolstered her. A rush of confidence warmed her.
‘You’re not angry with me for not telling you so much as being angry at yourself that you still want me.’ Her voice held wonder. ‘You really want me.’
He didn’t stop, didn’t even falter. He just continued walking right out of the door.
‘I’m exactly the kind of guy you should stay away from, Little Ant.’
‘I’m not Little Ant, Kaspar. I haven’t been that girl for over ten years. I’m a woman now, with a career, and my own home, and a failed marriage.’
He hesitated in the hallway, just as she’d hoped he would, and turned to face her. He was still fighting temptation, she could tell, but he knew his arguments were holding less and less sway. Deliberately she swept her tongue over her lips, as if to wet them.
His eyes slid down and watched the movement with a darkening expression. A thrill coursed through her. He wanted to do what he thought was the morally right thing, he was trying to do it. But things had gone too far in the car. They’d been too intimate. And
now he was having a difficult time turning the attraction off just like that.
‘I thought you were in Australia.’
He was stalling, she realised incredulously. No one would ever believe it. Not the press, not the public, certainly not the broken-hearted women who flailed in his wake.
‘Robbie went after Dad died because his then girlfriend, now wife, was from there. My life was here. I’d just finished my degree, I had a new job...’
‘You’d met your husband.’
She couldn’t place the edge to his tone, but she did know the moment she’d been imagining was slipping away from her. Too fast.
She needed to salvage the evening, convince Kaspar that she wasn’t that kid any more. She was the woman he’d been kissing, holding, touching in the car.
‘As nice as this little catch-up might be, we didn’t come back here to my flat to shoot the breeze, did we, Kaspar?’
She couldn’t decide whether he admired her forthrightness, or if it merely caught him off guard. Either way, she didn’t care. She had a small window in which to press her advantage. If she missed it, that would be it.
She stepped forward boldly and flashed him a cheeky grin, disarming him.
‘Good, so now we’ve aired our concerns, can we get back to the fun we were having in the car?’
‘Archie, are you listening to me?’ he bit out, but he didn’t move away.
She stepped forward again.
‘I’m trying not to. It’s hardly the greatest foreplay conversation. Certainly not worthy of the great Surgeon Prince of Persia.’
‘This isn’t going to happen,’ he warned, his voice gritty. Not entirely as forceful as she imagined he could be.
‘I’m pretty sure it already has. Or have you forgotten just how intimate we were on the car journey here?’
She heard the low growl, which reverberated around her. She knew the image of his mouth on her nipples, making her moan and writhe on his knee, was as imprinted in his head as it was in hers. He was close to giving in to her. To this attraction. She just needed to give him that nudge over the edge.
The Surgeon's One-Night Baby Page 5
