‘Why wouldn’t I?’ she said defensively, knowing Rufus believed she was so self-centred those women losing their jobs wouldn’t even have occurred to her.
Rufus sighed, knowing she had misunderstood him once again. He never seemed to be able to say anything right where Gabriella was concerned.
‘I was paying you a compliment, Gabriella, not criticising you,’ he told her wearily.
She looked at him searchingly for several seconds. ‘Oh,’ she finally muttered awkwardly.
Rufus gave a rueful smile. ‘Holly tells me she’s enjoying her riding lessons.’
Holly had told him a lot more than that, but he was sure that Gabriella wouldn’t want to hear how much Holly now approved of her stepmother, with the added comment to him that he should ‘keep Aunt Gabriella as his wife’.
Considering he was fast coming to that conclusion himself, and Gabriella obviously could no longer bear to be anywhere near him, it wasn’t what he had wanted to hear, either!
Gabriella, he knew, couldn’t wait for this marriage to be over, couldn’t wait to have him out of her life!
‘She’s doing very well.’ Gabriella nodded in response to his comment. ‘A natural, Gemma at the stables tells me.’ She smiled.
Rufus nodded distractedly, searching for something else to talk to her about, not wanting to leave her yet. If he couldn’t have anything else he could at least look at her.
‘Toby is still in America—’ He broke off abruptly, knowing that had definitely been the wrong thing to say as he saw the way Gabriella’s smile faded and her gaze became wary once again. ‘Forget I said that,’ he rasped, giving a self-disgusted shake of his head. ‘Damn it, I came in here because—because—’
‘Yes, why did you come into my bedroom without being invited, Rufus?’ Gabriella prompted hardly. ‘Was it to insult me some more? To question whether or not I’ve heard from Toby? Which I haven’t. And don’t want to, either!’ she added angrily, standing up. ‘Or perhaps you want to insult my mother some more? That’s usually good for a couple of minutes or so!’ Her eyes glowed deeply purple in her anger. ‘Come on, Rufus, I’m really interested to know what you’re doing here!’
Rufus drew in a sharp breath, biting back the defensive reply he had been about to give her, knowing that he would achieve nothing by doing that except furthering his own misery.
He closed his eyes briefly before opening them again, forcing himself not to meet anger with anger. As he usually did. ‘You really want to know what I’m doing here?’ he breathed huskily.
‘I’m agog with curiosity!’ she came back sarcastically. ‘I can hardly wait for the next instalment of your accusations!’
Rufus knew he deserved that. And more. But this ache, this burning he had for Gabriella, this need he had to be with her, was beyond his control. Hard enough to admit to himself, let alone Gabriella.
But unless he wanted to spent the next five months in purgatory, he was going to have to try.
‘No accusations, Gabriella,’ he told her with a sigh. ‘Just an honest admission that wanting you, desiring you, and not being able to be anywhere near you, is driving me quietly out of my mind!’
Gabriella stared at him, too shocked to do anything else.
Rufus wanted her. Rufus desired her.
As she wanted him. As she desired him.
But she would never have admitted that to him. She would rather have stayed in her bedroom for the next five months than go to him and tell him that. And yet Rufus had just done so.
But was want and desire enough?
It was all Rufus was offering. And although she wanted more, the truth was, wanting and desiring him was driving her quietly insane, too.
‘That’s all, Gabriella.’ He grimaced ruefully as he saw her expression. ‘Just—come down for dinner sometimes, hmm? I’m not going to ask for anything more than that, only that you stop avoiding me in the way that you have been. That’s not too much to ask, is it…?’ He looked at her guardedly.
And he had every right to feel guarded after what he had just told her. Never, not in a million years, would she have ever thought Rufus would own up to wanting her in that way. Shown her, perhaps, by seducing her back into his bed—something she had been longing for him to do the last two weeks!—but never tell her in the way that he just had.
‘Poetic justice, hmm?’ He sighed as she made no reply. ‘I’ll leave you to get back to your book now.’ He nodded abruptly before turning on his heel to move forcefully across the room, closing the bedroom door firmly behind him.
Leave her to get back to her book…? After telling her he wanted her?
He had to be joking!
How could she think of anything else, concentrate on anything else, after Rufus had told her that?
Instead she paced restlessly up and down her bedroom, fighting a battle within herself.
Nothing had changed with Rufus’s admission. Nothing. He still believed that both she and her mother had been gold-diggers, only after James’s money, the pair of them. He still didn’t believe her about Toby—although it was curious that he was still trying to contact his cousin. Lastly, significantly, he had asked David Brewster to prepare the papers in readiness for their divorce…
But that was because they would be separating in five months’ time.
That had been the agreement when they had married, at the insistence of both of them, so why was she now so angry because Rufus had pre-planned that divorce?
Because it hurt, that was why. Because she was still in love with him. Because now that she had lived with him she couldn’t even bear to think about after they separated, let alone arrange their divorce.
But this was here, and now, and shutting herself off from him in this way, refusing to admit her own physical need of him, was only making her miserable. And, if she understood him correctly, for the next five months Rufus was saying he could be hers whenever and wherever she wanted him. Instead of being miserable in her self-denial, she could enjoy all the heated passion that she knew Rufus gave her.
Five months to last her a lifetime.
She deserved that, didn’t she?
What the hell was she dithering for? She was a twenty-three-year-old woman, well aware of her own wants and desires, no longer an infatuated eighteen-year-old schoolgirl, and Rufus was just down the hallway, waiting for the invitation she had stubbornly refused to give him the last two weeks.
She could hear the shower running in the adjoining bathroom as she let herself into Rufus’s bedroom, throwing off her clothes as she crossed the room on bare feet, her vest-top beside the door, her sports bottoms near the bed, silky panties next to the bathroom door, quietly letting herself in, the sound of the running water blocking out the sound of her entrance.
She could see the outline of Rufus’s body inside the wide shower unit, lean and muscled, the bronzed hair wet and slicked back as he held his face up to the battering of the power-shower.
The door slid soundlessly back as she stepped in beside him, looking at him, drinking in his male beauty, his body leaner than she remembered, but tanned and muscled, the width of his shoulders rippling powerfully.
Gabriella reached around him to pick up the tube of shower gel, squeezing some into the palms of her hands before putting it back on the narrow shelf, rubbing the gel to a soapy froth before beginning to massage it into his shoulders and back.
If Gabriella being here was just a figment of his imagination, if this was just a dream, then Rufus didn’t want to wake up. Ever!
He kept his eyes closed as the warmth of the shower water continued to cascade down on them, lost in the magic as her hands ran the length of his spine to his buttocks, tensing slightly as she caressed there, before she moved down the long length of his legs, his arousal already full when she reached around for him.
‘Turn around,’ she invited huskily.
He did, his eyes still closed, groaning low in his throat when he recognized that it was no longer Gabriella’s cares
sing hands he felt but the warmth of her lips and mouth as she took him inside her.
Dear God…!
He looked down at her then, at the wet tumble of her dark hair down the length of her spine, her eyes purple as she looked up at him, before she once again claimed him into the warmth of her mouth.
His hands became entangled in the dark thickness of her hair, holding her against him; he had never known pleasure like this before. It was spiralling, building, surging, and his fingers tightened in her hair to pull her back when he knew he was almost at the point of no return.
‘Now you,’ he breathed huskily, pulling her to her feet as he kissed first her eyes, then her cheek, her mouth, the long column of her throat and the swell of her breasts. Gabriella’s groan of pleasure told him how much she liked him doing that.
She was slick and wet, her body willowy slender as Rufus moved to kneel before her, gently parting the dark curls to find the centre of her arousal. Gabriella trembled against him as his tongue caressed and stroked, and she moved her legs slightly apart to allow him inside her.
Her hands clung desperately to his shoulders as she began to convulse around his fingers, but Rufus continued to tease her with his tongue, prolonging her climax until she collapsed weakly against him.
Rufus stood up, needing to be inside her now, wanting all her heat around him, surrounding him, taking him to the point she’d just reached.
Gabriella’s eyes widened as she felt Rufus lifting her, his arms about her thighs as she wrapped her legs about his waist. His hands cradled her as the hardness of him slid slowly inside her and she closed about him, each thrust of his body causing a responding trembling of her silken sheath, the pleasure quickly building again as his thrusts became more powerful with the approach of his own release.
A release that took Gabriella with it, and she cried out Rufus’s name as she shuddered to another climax, the tightening of her inner muscles seeming to make their pleasure last an eternity.
Rufus rested his forehead against hers, breathing deeply. ‘You are an amazing woman, Gabriella Maria Lucia Gresham,’ he told her achingly.
Gabriella gave a husky laugh of satisfaction. ‘You’re pretty incredible yourself, Rufus James Gresham.’
Rufus raised his head to look down at her, her eyes a glowing violet, cheeks flushed, her mouth swollen from his kisses. ‘I’m not even going to ask what changed your mind.’ He shook his head. ‘Just thank my good luck that you did!’
She looked at him and smiled in relaxed satisfaction.
Rufus grinned back and then turned off the shower before carrying her back into the bedroom, smiling again as he saw the trail of her clothes across the room.
‘We’ll make the bed all wet,’ she protested.
‘You aren’t supposed to be practical after what we’ve just done!’ he admonished teasingly.
Practical was the last thing she felt! ‘I was thinking of you.’
Rufus shook his head. ‘I’m happy just being with you like this,’ he assured her huskily.
He lay on the bed with her, with his head buried against Gabriella’s creamy throat. Breathing deeply, he knew he had been taken beyond anything he had ever known before, with any woman, and still he wanted her, wanted more.
Soon, soon he would take her again.
And again.
And again.
He knew that he would never be able to get enough of Gabriella, and that wanting her, being part of her, was in his blood. And he knew that it always would be.
Just as Gabriella herself would always be a part of him…
Gabriella woke lethargic.
Satiated.
And alone.
The bed beside her was still warm from Rufus’s presence, but he was no longer there.
Instead, there was just a white sheet of paper on the pillow that read, ‘My darling Gabriella, I’ve gone to see Toby, Yours, Rufus’…
Chapter 11
‘Gabriella! Why the hell haven’t you taken any of my calls?’
Gabriella frowned across the kitchen of Gabriella’s as Rufus stood in the doorway, his face looking strained, his blond hair tousled, the denims and black tee shirt he wore looking rumpled and travel-worn.
Apparently he had come straight here from seeing Toby in America.
‘I must have telephoned you half a dozen times in the last twenty-four hours!’ he rasped accusingly as he came forcefully into the kitchen and closed the door behind him.
He had telephoned exactly seven times, Gabriella knew, twice here yesterday afternoon, five times to Gresham House during yesterday evening. And she had refused to take any of them.
What was the point?
If Rufus could just leave her after the night they had spent together, to go and talk to Toby of all people, then they really had nothing left to say to each other.
She shrugged, not looking at him as she finished tidying the kitchen after the Friday lunchtime rush. ‘I’ve been busy,’ she dismissed, glad she had a break coming up, not at all as composed as she wanted to give Rufus the impression she was.
Because she must have spent most of the last twenty-four hours crying. She had cried all day yesterday after she’d woken to find him gone, cried herself to sleep last night, and again this morning as soon as she’d woken up. And it couldn’t go on.
She couldn’t go on.
She couldn’t stay in this loveless marriage any longer. No matter what the cost.
‘Gabriella, what’s wrong with you?’ Rufus prompted, concerned, as she swayed weakly, crossing the room to cup a hand beneath her chin to lift her face so that she had no choice but to look at him.
God, she loved this man.
Loved him to the point of distraction. Loved him so much that nothing else mattered but him.
And she had to leave him.
She met his searching gaze unblinkingly. ‘I’m leaving you, Rufus,’ she told him firmly. ‘Not in five months’ time. But now.’
‘What—?’ Rufus felt himself pale, shaking his head in denial. ‘You can’t mean that, Gabriella—’
‘Oh but I do,’ she said flatly.
‘No,’ he insisted fiercely, looking frustratedly at the incongruity of their surroundings. ‘We have to get out of here, Gabriella! I need to talk to you, to explain—’
‘It’s too late for explanations, Rufus,’ she interrupted softly. ‘Don’t you understand? I can’t take this any more. And it’s not because I intend going to Toby, either!’ she added fiercely. ‘I just—I can’t live with you any more!’
Rufus swallowed hard, unable to deny the complete conviction in her voice. ‘No, Gabriella, I can’t let you do that!’ He shook his head in disbelief.
She gave a humourless smile. ‘You can’t stop me, Rufus. I’m sorry, I really am, but I can’t—’ She halted as her voice broke. ‘I can’t live like this any more,’ she added firmly, lashes down as she shielded her gaze from his.
Rufus looked at her intensely, at the dark circles beneath her eyes, the hollows in her cheeks, the way she couldn’t even look at him any more, and he knew he had to do something, say something to stop this wonderful creature leaving him.
The only thing he could say…
‘Gabriella, I love you,’ he breathed huskily. ‘I love you, Gabriella!’ he repeated forcefully, holding the tops of her arms as he shook her slightly.
Her long dark lashes flew wide above her startled violet-coloured eyes, Gabriella looking at him uncertainly now, as if to see whether or not he spoke the truth.
And he deserved her suspicion, Rufus knew, he deserved every accusation she had ever thrown at him.
As she, he was absolutely sure, had deserved none of the accusations he had thrown at her…
‘Let’s get out of here,’ he encouraged huskily. ‘I’ll talk, Gabriella, if you will please listen, and if—if you still want to leave me after that, I—I’ll help you to go,’ he promised gruffly, knowing it would kill him to do that, but also knowing he had no choice. He
could no longer keep this beautiful woman against her will.
Gabriella looked at him warily, not understanding this at all. Could Rufus, of all people, have just told her that he loved her? Without knowing the truth about her mother? Without knowing the truth about her? What had Toby told him to bring about this transformation, for goodness’ sake?
She didn’t know what to do. It hadn’t been easy the last twenty-four hours, coming to the decision she had, but at the time it had seemed the only one she could make. Now, a tiny candle of hope starting to burn inside her, she wasn’t so sure…
Rufus saw her indecision and pounced on it. ‘Come with me so we can talk, so I can explain? Gabriella, please!’ he pressed urgently as she still made no reply.
She gave a slight shake of her head. ‘I have the restaurant—’
‘Lunches are over; I already asked one of the waitresses outside. Surely they can cope without you now for a while?’ he pushed anxiously.
He had never felt so helpless in his life as he felt now just trying to get Gabriella to at least agree to listen to what he had to say.
Whether it would mean anything to her was another matter…
But he had to try anyway!
‘Okay,’ she sighed impatiently. ‘But—’
‘No buts, Gabriella,’ he insisted determinedly. ‘Er—do you have any other clothes?’ He hesitated as he seemed to notice she was still wearing the white cotton top and blue and white checked trousers she had worn to work in.
Gabriella couldn’t help smiling at the slightly bemused expression on his face. ‘Yes, I have other clothes,’ she assured him. ‘I hardly travel up on the train in these! I’ll meet you in your office in ten minutes or so, if that’s all right?’
‘Ten minutes, ten hours, Gabriella, I would still be waiting,’ he assured her firmly.
She gave him another searching glance. He had been different when he came back from New York two weeks ago, and he was even more so now. And he had said he loved her!
That was what hurried her through changing into her own black tee shirt and trousers, before she made her way up in the lift to Rufus’s office on the sixth floor.
Wife By Contract, Mistress By Demand Page 13
