by Abby Green
He turned then to face her and for a second there was an expression of such rawness on his face that she was surprised he was letting her see it. And then he reached out and rubbed his knuckles along her jaw. Her breathing quickened in an instant.
‘You’re very sweet, Nessa O’Sullivan, or else you’re a better actress than I’ve ever seen in my life.’
A sharp pain lanced her to think that even now he still distrusted her. She took her chin away, afraid of the emotion clogging her throat. ‘I am sorry for your loss. You deserved to have someone in your corner and I’m glad he was there for you.’
Nessa felt exposed but refused to break eye contact. She was determined to show Luc her sincerity even if she had to brand it onto his brain through sheer will.
And then he reached for her, hands sliding under her arms and tugging her towards him until their bodies were flush and she could feel his arousal pressing against her.
Instantly words were forgotten. She got a sense of how much he’d been leashing his desire all evening and bizarrely felt comforted. Because he’d seemed completely in control and unaffected. But he hadn’t been. He was just better at disguising it.
He said, ‘I think we’ve talked enough. I’ve wanted to do this all evening.’
Before she could ask what, he’d started taking the pins out of her hair, until the heavy mass fell down around her shoulders and he dropped the pins to the ground.
He ran his hands through her hair and then cupped her face, tilting it up to his. In the split second before their mouths met, Nessa felt something incredibly poignant move through her as she realised she was one of those kissing couples she’d been so envious of earlier. And then Luc’s mouth was on hers, his tongue was mating with hers and she could only clutch at his shirt to try and stay standing. She wasn’t even aware of his jacket falling to the ground from her shoulders. She was burning up.
After long, drugging moments Luc pulled back and emitted a curse. ‘I could take you right here, right now, but next time we make love it will be on a bed.’
He took her hand to lead her back the way they’d come, to the car. She grabbed his jacket up off the ground as they went, and her cheeks burned. If Luc had decided to make love to her there and then against that wall, she wouldn’t have had the ability to stop him.
When they returned to the apartment Luc gave her no time to think. He led her straight to his bedroom. There was one small light burning in the corner, throwing everything into long shadows. His face was stark with need. Exactly how she felt.
He pushed his jacket off her shoulders to the ground and instructed, ‘Turn around.’
She turned around, presenting him with her back. He pushed her hair to one side so that it fell over one shoulder, and then he pulled the zip down all the way to where it ended just above her buttocks. He undid her bra. She shivered with anticipation as he ran the knuckles of his fingers up and down her spine.
Then he pushed the two sides of the dress off her shoulders and down and it fell away from her chest. He turned her around again and peeled off her arms so that she was naked from the waist up.
Her nipples stiffened under his gaze, and when he brushed his fingers across the sensitised tips she had to bite her lip to stop from crying out.
He took his hand away. ‘Undress me.’
Luc saw the almost drugged expression on Nessa’s face. Sweat broke out on his brow at the effort it was taking not to rip the rest of Nessa’s dress off her body, throw her onto the bed and sink himself so deep inside her he’d see stars. He had to exert some control before he lost it completely.
She lifted her hands to his shirt and undid each button with an air of concentration that he found curiously touching, tongue trapped between her teeth.
She pushed his shirt off and put her hands to his belt, then the button, and the zip. He was so hard he hurt. When she pushed his trousers down he stepped out of them.
‘Your dress and panties. Take them off.’ He sounded as rough as he felt, uncouth and desperate.
She pushed the dress down and it landed at her feet in a shimmering green pool. Then she pushed down her panties, revealing the enticing red-gold curls between her legs. She was blushing and not meeting his eye. He tipped up her chin until her eyes met his. ‘You’re beautiful, Nessa.’
‘If you say so.’
‘I do. Lie down on the bed.’
She crawled onto the bed and Luc bit back a groan at the sight. Then she lay down on her back. ‘Open your legs.’
Shyly she did so and he could see where she glistened with arousal. It undid him. Luc tore off his own underwear and put his hands to her thighs, pushing them apart even more. He knelt between her legs and the scent of her almost drove him wild.
He kissed her inner thighs, and they quivered under his hands. Then he spread apart the lips of her sex and put his mouth to her, getting drunk on her essence. He’d never tasted anything sweeter.
She was moaning and trying to speak. ‘Luc, what are you...? Oh, God.’
He smiled against her when he could feel the way her body was responding: melting, shivering, tensing. He was remorseless, ignoring her pleas to stop, but not stop. He thrust a finger inside her and she orgasmed around it, muscles clamping down so hard that he had to exert every ounce of self-control not to explode himself.
He sheathed himself and came over her. She looked up at him, dreamy and unfocused. ‘That was...incredible.’
For a second, in spite of the raging hunger inside him, Luc stopped. There was something so open and unguarded in her eyes that he couldn’t bear it. He felt as if she was looking all the way into the depths of his soul with that steady gaze—in a way no one had ever looked at him before. She was seeing too much.
‘Turn over,’ he commanded. When she blinked and a look of hesitancy came over her face he felt a sharp tug in his chest. He ignored it. Pushed it down.
He ran his hand down her body, cupping between her legs where she was so damp and hot and fragrant. ‘Turn over, minou.’
She did and Luc pulled her back until she was on her knees. The delicate curve of her spine and buttocks was breaking him in two. She looked at him over her shoulder in an unconsciously erotic pose. ‘Luc?’
He put his hands on her hips and pulled her right into his body. He saw her eyes widen and flare when he pressed against her. And then he was breaching her body as slowly as he could afford to go without going mad, feeling her snug muscles clamp around him and then relax to let him push deeper and deeper.
She let out a low groan, coming down on her elbows, bowing her head. Her hair was a bright fall of red against the white sheets. He saw her curl her hands to fists in the sheets, knuckles white as he drove into her again and again.
But as Luc could feel Nessa’s body quickening towards her climax, he felt hollow inside. His own release was elusive. He realised he couldn’t do it like this, no matter how exposed the other way made him feel. He pulled out, his whole body screaming in protest.
He turned Nessa around again so she was on her back. She was panting, skin gleaming with perspiration. ‘Luc...’
‘Look at me.’
She did, her eyes wide and trusting. Desperate for the release that he was withholding. He thrust into her again, just once, and that was all it took to send them both hurtling over the edge.
* * *
When Luc was capable of movement again he pulled free of Nessa’s embrace, and went into his bathroom to dispense with the protection. He placed his hands on the sink and bowed his head. He felt momentarily weak, as if some of his strength had been drained away during sex.
He grimaced at the fanciful notion of Samson and Delilah. It was just the after-effects of extreme pleasure. But, a small voice reminded him, you weren’t able to climax until you were looking in her eyes. You needed that connection. Luc had never sought that kind of connection before.
He went cold. The events of the evening flooded his mind and an icy finger danced down his spine.
/> He’d told Nessa more than he’d told anyone. He’d blithely let most of his sad history trip off his tongue without a moment’s hesitation. He went even icier when the full significance of that hit him.
He’d lost sight of who she was. And what she could still be: an accessory to theft.
A hard knot formed in his gut. He’d become so blinded by lust for her that he’d lost sight of a lifetime of lessons, teaching him to trust no one. Luc’s heart beat fast to think of how close he’d come to—He shut that thought down. He didn’t trust her. They’d had sex. That was all.
He had to admit that since she’d been riding for him, the turnaround in public perception was phenomenal. That was the important thing here. Not his lust for her. That was a base instinct he couldn’t afford to indulge again.
He also had to acknowledge the fact that, in spite of the reasons why she was there, she was a boon to his business. But she owed him this. Her brother had stolen from him and she had taken on the debt for herself.
A familiar feeling of ruthlessness settled over Luc like a well-worn coat. In spite of Nessa’s innocence or apparent sweetness, he still couldn’t trust that she wasn’t taking advantage of his desire for her.
He would not be weak again.
CHAPTER NINE
NESSA COULD HEAR Luc in the bathroom. The shower was turned on. She opened her eyes in the dim light of the bedroom, unable to stop imagining water sluicing down over that powerful body. Between her legs ached pleasurably as she recalled the breathtaking feeling of Luc’s body driving into hers over and over again.
She got hot when she thought of how he’d made her turn over, taking her from behind. There’d been something so raw and animalistic about it. It had also felt erotic, but she’d felt slightly unsure, out of her depth. She hadn’t liked not being able to see his face, or his eyes. Until he’d turned her back and said look at me, and that was all it had taken to send her shattering into a million pieces.
The bathroom door opened and Nessa instinctively pulled the sheet up over her body, suddenly shy, which was ridiculous after what had just happened.
Luc stood in the doorway with nothing but a small towel hooked around his waist. Droplets of moisture clung to his sculpted muscles and Nessa’s mouth watered.
‘You should go back to your own bed now.’
Nessa sat up, holding the sheet to her chest. Humiliation rushed through her. Of course. What had she expected would happen? That Luc would come back to bed and take her in his arms again, whisper sweet nothings in her ears and want to cuddle?
‘I don’t sleep with lovers,’ he said, as if he might not have been clear enough.
Nessa looked at him, unable to stem the blooming of hurt inside her. ‘It’s fine. You don’t need to explain.’
She scooted to the side of the bed feeling awkward as well as humiliated as she searched for her dress, which lay on the ground a few feet away in a pool of shimmering green. She was just wondering how to get there without exposing herself even further when Luc appeared in her eyeline holding out a robe.
‘Here.’ He sounded gruff.
Nessa took it and pulled it on while trying to stay as covered up as possible. She hated herself for feeling so hurt by Luc’s dismissal, by the confirmation that she was no different from his other lovers. But you want to be different. She stood up, belting the robe around her, squashing that thought. She didn’t want to be different. Yes, you do.
Before Luc might see any evidence of the tumult of her emotions, Nessa plucked the dress up off the floor and walked to the door, avoiding his eye. She forced herself to stop, though, and turned around. ‘Thank you for this evening. I had a nice time.’
Nessa had walked out of the door before Luc had a chance to respond. He waited for a sense of satisfaction that he’d made it clear that he had boundaries, but it wouldn’t come. He thought of how awkward she’d looked just now at the door, avoiding his eye, clutching her dress. She wasn’t like the women he knew. He felt like a heel now. Not satisfied at all.
If he was brutally honest with himself, he already regretted saying anything. He wanted to go after her, bring her back to bed and continue where they’d finished.
Luc bit off a savage curse and went back into the bathroom to take a cold shower. Damn Nessa O’Sullivan for sliding under his skin like this. The sooner his people tracked down her brother, the better.
* * *
Nessa couldn’t sleep when she went back to her bedroom. She went out to the balcony and sat on the chair by the small table, looking at the view. She was such a naive fool. To have imagined for a second that Luc’s opening up to her earlier that evening had meant anything.
It had meant nothing. He’d been on a trip down memory lane and she’d happened to be there.
It hit her then, with a cold, clammy sense of panic. She really was falling for him, and it was already too late. She had stood up for him in front of Celeste Fouret the way she would stand up for any of her loved ones. The thought that Luc might have interpreted her defence as devotion, and that had been why he’d sent her back to her own room, made her feel nauseous.
She knew now, with an awful sense of impending doom, that whatever emotional pain she thought she’d ever felt before would pale into insignificance once this man cast her aside. As surely he would.
Because Celeste Fouret had been right, after all. Luc Barbier would never belong to anyone. And certainly not Nessa. She was a brief interlude. A novelty for a cynical and jaded man, and she knew now that she had to protect herself before she got in any deeper.
* * *
The following morning Nessa got washed, dressed and packed before going in search of Luc. She heard movement coming from the main living area and walked into the room to see the dining table set and the housekeeper serving breakfast.
Sunlight streamed through the huge windows but it all paled into insignificance next to the image of Luc wearing a dark suit, sipping coffee and reading a newspaper, clean shaven. He looked every inch a titan of industry, and as remote as a rock in the middle of the ocean.
His dark glance barely skimmed over her, and Nessa was glad as it would give her the strength to do what she knew she had to for her own self-preservation.
Lucille told her to take a seat and that she’d bring her some breakfast. Nessa smiled her thanks, relieved that she wasn’t entirely alone with Luc.
He put down the paper as she sat down. She felt self-conscious in her daily uniform of jeans and a T-shirt. She’d hung the glittering dress back up in the closet and had pushed down the dangerous spurt of emotion when she remembered Luc telling her she was beautiful.
‘Did you sleep well?’
She looked at him and it almost hurt, he was so gorgeous. She nodded and told a white lie. ‘Very well, thank you. Your apartment is beautiful. You’re very lucky.’
Lucille came back and placed a plate down in front of Nessa with perfectly fluffy scrambled eggs with spring onions, salmon and buttered toast. Ordinarily her mouth would have watered but for some reason she felt nauseous. Not wanting to insult the Frenchwoman, she spooned a mouthful and ate, murmuring her appreciation to the beaming woman. When they were alone again Nessa put down her fork and took a sip of coffee, willing the faint nausea away.
Luc said, ‘Luck had nothing to do with me having this apartment. It was success born out of hard work.’
Nessa shouldn’t have been surprised that Luc didn’t believe in things like luck, or chance. She hadn’t either for a long time after their mother’s death had rent their world apart. Until fate had stepped in, bringing Nadim into her sister’s life, transforming their fortunes.
The hurt she still felt made her want to pierce a little of Luc’s stark black and white attitude. ‘Well, I do believe in luck. I believe there’s always a moment when fate intervenes and you can choose to take advantage of it or not. Not everything is within our control.’
Luc’s mouth tightened. ‘Apparently not.’
Nessa wasn’t s
ure what that meant. Incensed now, she said, ‘Don’t you consider Pierre Fortin to have been fateful for you?’
Luc looked at her. ‘He gave me an opportunity and I made the most of it.’
Nessa resisted making a face at Luc’s obduracy and made a stab at eating some more of the delicious breakfast, and tried to ignore the churning of her stomach.
Luc said, ‘I have some meetings to attend in Paris today. My driver will take you to my stables just outside the city this morning, where you’ll meet with François, my head trainer. He’s expecting you. He’ll see how you go on Sur La Mer and, depending on what he thinks, you’ll ride him in the race next week. Or not.’
Nessa put down her fork. ‘What if I don’t perform well on Sur La Mer?’
Luc shrugged minutely. ‘Then you’ll go back to the stables in Ireland.’
She felt like a pawn being moved about at Luc’s will. Into his bed, out of it...it was time to claim back her independence. She took a deep breath.
‘Luc, I—’
‘Look, Nessa—’
They both spoke at the same moment and stopped. Luc said, ‘You go.’
Nessa’s heart hammered. She swallowed. ‘I just wanted to say that I don’t think we should sleep together again. I’m here to do a job. I’d like to focus on that.’
Luc looked at her, eyes glittering like two black unreadable jewels. She’d never know what this man was thinking in a million years. He was too well protected. As she should be.
‘I agree. I was going to say the same thing.’
‘That’s good,’ Nessa said quickly, even as something curled up inside her. Some very pathetic part of her that had hoped that he might refuse to agree.
Then Luc stood up and walked over to the window. Nessa stood too, still feeling that nausea in her stomach. It got worse.
He turned around, hands in his pockets. ‘As you said, you’re here to focus on a job, a job that you’ve proven to have a great talent for. That’s the most important thing now.’
Of course it was, because it was bringing the Barbier name respect and success. And as Nessa had learnt, Luc’s business and reputation were everything to him. She couldn’t begrudge him that. Not after everything he’d been through. But it was clear that he had no interest in anything outside that. Certainly not a personal life, with love, fulfilment, or family.
