by Annie West
Slicking back the weight of wet hair from her face she turned off the water then leaned, palms braced, against the tiled shower wall. She’d thought to wash off Orsino’s touch and scent, but the warm spray of water had only energised her still-aroused body, making her regret the speed of what had happened downstairs. She hadn’t felt his touch on her bare skin and, tucked away in the privacy of her bathroom, she admitted the truth—that she wanted that, wanted Orsino, more than anything.
Poppy squeezed her eyes shut, berating herself. This wouldn’t do.
Reaching out for the shower door she instead encountered hot flesh. Bare hot flesh with a delicious smattering of crisp hair.
Her eyes sprang open.
‘Orsino!’
One look at her and Orsino knew he’d been right to come. Without time to don her touch-me-not hauteur, Poppy’s expression betrayed her. The dreamy yearning in her eyes, the ripe invitation of her parted lips, the way she swayed towards him instead of recoiling.
Oh, yes, she wanted him as he did her. That went some way towards silencing his concerns about the immensity of his hunger for her.
The feel of her damp palm splaying over his chest made his heart erupt in a tattoo of need.
‘Who else?’ His voice was unsteady as his gaze dropped to her delicious body, glowing softly from the heat of the shower. High, pert breasts that made his palms ache to hold them. Dark raspberry nipples. A long, lithe sweep of torso down to a waist that he knew fitted his hands perfectly. The purely feminine curve of hips cradling that dark russet triangle of soft hair. He swallowed convulsively, remembering the taste of her on his tongue. Slender, strong legs and narrow, sexy feet.
‘Here.’ He took her by the elbow, guiding her out of the shower cubicle. ‘Let me.’ He lifted the enormous bath towel he held and draped it around her shoulders, pulling her closer.
‘You shouldn’t be here. I didn’t invite you.’ He heard her reaching for indignation but she couldn’t quite achieve it.
And they both knew why.
‘Where else would I be?’ Slowly he rubbed her shoulders through the plush towelling. ‘I want you. And you want me.’ He paused, waiting. ‘Don’t you, Poppy?’
Her breath hitched and her dazed eyes grew heavy-lidded as his hands found her breasts through the thick towel.
She opened her mouth but no sound emerged. He would have grinned in triumph at finally silencing her sassy tongue, but he felt like she looked, poleaxed.
‘It’s not you.’ She grabbed his hands and dragged them away. ‘As you explained so clearly, it’s just sex.’
He watched her cheeks flush and something tightened inside. That blush of hers had fascinated him from the first. He’d assumed a woman who displayed her body in swimsuits and skimpy dresses would have lost the ability to blush. Not Poppy.
The first time he’d stripped her naked the rosy heat in her cheeks had been adorable, and he’d actually wondered if he might be her first lover. Until she’d responded with such unabashed enthusiasm he’d realised how impossible that was.
She cleared her throat. ‘It’s been a while for me, that’s all. That’s why I …’
‘So it isn’t me you want? Anyone would do? Is that what you’re saying?’ Orsino pulled back, watching a tiny frown wrinkle her forehead. ‘There was a guy this morning, one of the models, who’d love to be here, helping you scratch this particular itch. Maybe you should call him instead.’
Where the poisonous words came from Orsino didn’t know. Maybe a last-ditch effort to slice through the final bond linking them.
Yet as he spoke a dagger of heat plunged deep at the thought of Poppy with another man. Even now. Even after all this time. Hell!
He forced himself to withdraw back towards the bedroom door.
As he did her gaze drifted down his body and her eyes widened as she saw him naked and, despite his fury, fully aroused. His muscles clenched with the effort it took not to reach out and drag her to him.
He needed her but he refused to beg.
Poppy stared at his erection as if she’d never seen one before and he felt himself pulse, hard and eager.
Half an hour ago he’d almost embarrassed himself. He would have climaxed in her hand in another few seconds. He’d only just managed to wait till he was inside her before shattering like a kid with his first woman. He’d told himself abstinence was the cause, next time he’d be in control, yet he found himself wondering if he might come just from watching her sultry eyes devour him.
She swallowed convulsively and heat poured through him. He remembered that mouth like hot velvet on his aroused body, reducing him to gasping surrender. He wanted that again. He wanted—
Her eyes snared his and a wave of something crashed over him. Not just desire, but something deeper. Something he thought he’d banished.
‘Is that what you want?’ he snarled. ‘Someone else to relieve your … tension?’ When she said nothing he forced himself on, refusing to feel the pain of her rejection. ‘Maybe while you’re at it you could see if one of the women from this morning would like to do something about this—’ he gestured to his erection ‘—since you’re not interested.’
Poppy jerked her head away. Orsino’s eyes narrowed. He couldn’t trust his damaged vision but he’d swear he caught the glitter of tears on her lashes.
‘Poppy?’ His voice was husky as he spoke over what felt like broken glass lining his throat.
She turned back and he realised she’d been biting her bottom lip. It was dark and swollen and he wanted to soothe it with his thumb.
‘All right. You win, Orsino. I admit it.’ Her voice was low. ‘It’s you I want, not just any man.’ She crossed the floor till they stood toe to toe and her hand found his chest again, making his heart judder. ‘Satisfied?’
Her chin tilted high as it always had when she was scared. Heat doused him as he realised it.
Poppy was scared?
That knowledge sliced through his anger, leaving him strangely hollow.
Orsino covered her hand with his, feeling it quiver like a wounded bird in his grasp.
‘Not yet.’ His voice had turned to gravel. ‘Because I need you so badly I can’t think straight. Not just any woman but you, Poppy. Just you.’
A last remnant of pride howled that he gave too much away, letting her know the power she wielded. But for once the urge for honesty overrode it.
‘Don’t cry, Poppy. It’s not just you feeling this. It’s me, too.’
‘Really?’ She blinked up at him and her eyes shone overbright, making him feel about ten inches tall for the way he’d behaved.
For so long he’d wanted her to suffer for what she’d done. Yet, seeing her distress, he realised he couldn’t face it.
‘It’s not the way I want it to be, either,’ he admitted. ‘But it’s the way it is. For now.’ He dragged in a deep breath. ‘I need you, Poppy. Just you.’
‘And I need you, Orsino.’ He barely heard the words but he felt the soft puff of her breath on his bare flesh as she spoke. ‘Only you.’
Orsino made himself ignore the way that sounded almost like a vow. This was simple physical attraction. And the sooner they sated it, the better.
He drew her into the bedroom and lay her down with exquisite care on the bedspread. He feared one wrong move and he’d lose what little control he had left.
‘I love your hair,’ he admitted as he splayed the wet tendrils wide, like a fan of rich garnet.
‘I love yours.’ Her hand went to his forehead, brushing it back where it threatened to flop over his forehead.
Her touch was light, barely there, yet he felt it with a force that made something sing within him. That’s what Poppy did to him, what she’d always done to him.
‘Say it again.’
‘I want you, Orsino.’ Her hand traced a line of fire across his new scar. She traced it down to his eye then slid her hand up and into his hair and his heart thudded. ‘I need you.’
‘Good.’ He tried
to smile but the tension in him was too great. He clasped the back of her hand and turned his face to press a kiss to her palm. ‘So in this we’re equals.’
After a moment she nodded and he moved away.
At her gasp of distress he did manage a smile after all. ‘I’m just getting this.’ He held up the box of condoms he’d put on her bedside table while she showered.
There was that blush again across her breasts and throat.
Possessiveness filled him. She’d admitted her hunger was for him alone, but he knew an overwhelming urgency to banish Poppy’s previous lovers from her mind.
His body wasn’t as strong as he liked. Plaster encased one forearm and one hand still didn’t work properly, but that didn’t prevent him lavishing the attention on her that she deserved.
Orsino planted tiny kisses up her rib cage, feeling her shiver and shift beneath him, then nuzzled the fragrant, soft skin of her throat where a pulse beat frantically. The scent of berries and aroused woman grew headier as he lavished kisses down her other side, pausing low on her hip where a tiny heart-shaped scar had always fascinated him.
With lips and tongue and hands he explored her supple legs, the groove at the back of her knees, where she was so sensitive he had to hold her steady, using his weight to anchor her.
He loved her writhing beneath him, a prelude to what was to come.
Smiling, he inched his way up her thighs, fingers trailing a butterfly-light tracery across tender ivory flesh.
She gasped when he reached the junction of her thighs, her legs parting beneath him.
‘So eager,’ he crooned, blown away as he always had been by Poppy’s unabashed sexuality. She gave herself up to him completely. He hadn’t let himself remember that in five years. Now the reality of her in the flesh was almost too much. He longed to slide up her body and thrust hard and fast till they dissolved in ecstasy.
But he was determined to imprint himself on her. He’d make sure she knew at the deepest level it was him giving her what she needed.
Poppy tasted sweet and salty, a tang of pure feminine delight on his tongue and lips. He nuzzled closer, enjoying her hoarse gasps and the way she held his head in tight fingers that betrayed everything she felt.
One last, long, luxurious lick and she bucked hard beneath him, right off the bed, only his body weight holding her steady.
He felt shudders race through her, jerking her limbs, and saw the bright flare of ecstasy under her skin. But it was the way she cried his name, like a benediction and a plea together, that unlocked something he couldn’t name.
Finally, when she lay still beneath him, he rose to lie beside her on the bed. Her eyes fluttered open and the drowsy contentment he read there warmed him in places he’d forgotten existed.
‘Now, Orsino.’ Her lips curved in a tiny, siren’s smile.
‘But I’ve only just started.’ His hand slid to that damp triangle of dark curls as his head bent to her breast and he finally allowed himself the freedom to suckle her breast.
It was a long time later when Orsino finally rose on his elbows above her.
His body throbbed with the tension of denying his own gratification so long, and with the effort required of his still-recuperating body, but it was worth it.
Poppy was his, branded by touch and taste and climax after climax till there could be no doubt in her mind or her heart that she was his.
Orsino stilled, frowning. This wasn’t about hearts.
She lay limp beneath him, her body glowing and perfect as he held her close and slowly, excruciatingly slowly, slid home.
Her eyelids rose, her expression the sweetest he’d ever seen. Warm arms wrapped around his back, soft legs tightened at his waist. And suddenly, before Orsino had a chance to feel triumph, his body surged high and hard, his breath ragged as he reached breaking point. With a great roar of pleasure his head arched back and his climax broke upon him, wave after wave of crashing ecstasy.
When finally he came to his senses he was a dead weight crushing her to the bed, his head cradled against her damp, scented neck, his heart thundering against her, her name echoing in the still air.
Reluctantly he dragged himself up on his elbows, despite her clinging hold. His ribs ached but he didn’t care. He lowered his head, not ready to meet her eyes. One thing was certain. If their loving had branded her as his, the process worked two ways. He felt bound to Poppy as he hadn’t for five years.
How did that fit with his plan to bed her and walk away?
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘No, I CAN’T, BETTINA. That’s the trouble.’
Poppy paused just inside the tower door and let it swing shut behind her. The simmering frustration in Orsino’s voice caught her attention.
Who was Bettina? What had she done to make him so edgy?
Jealousy stabbed Poppy between the ribs and she knew a terrible fear at the realisation.
For four nights she’d shared Orsino’s bed. Nights of frantic passion, untold bliss and early mornings of languorous loving that left her glowing.
She should be horrified and ashamed that she’d capitulated, giving herself to Orsino again. But somehow she’d managed to block out the voice of doom that sniped in her ear. She got through each day hour by hour, not letting herself think beyond the moment.
From the open door to the sitting room she heard Orsino’s tread, heavy across the ancient floor.
‘I’ve tried that but—’ A loud clatter made her jump. Orsino swore. ‘No, no, I’m fine, Bettina. Sorry. It’s these damned eyes. I can see, almost, but every so often I misjudge distances and walk into things.’
There was a pause and the sound of scraping.
‘No, that wasn’t the laptop. I almost wish it was—it’s driving me crazy.’ Another pause. ‘I know, I know, patience.’ He spoke on a long sigh that dragged across her skin.
Poppy moved till she saw Orsino, silhouetted against the lowering grey sky through the window. His shoulders were hunched as he thrust one hand through his hair.
A tingle of heat swarmed up her backbone and her stomach muscles clenched, just from the pleasure of watching him.
That had to be bad. When just looking at him made her body react.
Her lips firmed. There was nothing wrong with enjoying physical attraction, the new Poppy told herself, so long as it was just that. Nothing … complicated by emotions.
They’d finished shooting early when the threatening skies had finally opened in a downpour and she’d hurried back here, brushing off an invitation to join the others.
It struck her as she drank in the sight of Orsino’s big, bold frame that she’d never questioned how he occupied his time while she worked. They’d each been careful not to extend their conversation beyond what happened in the bedroom. But knowing Orsino and his appetite for action, being cooped here without something to do was way out of character.
Now she felt overwhelming curiosity. About what was on that laptop. And about Bettina.
She stepped closer and his head snapped round. Poppy rocked back on her heels as their gazes locked and desire punched hard and low.
Just like that!
Wanton images filled her head. She and Orsino tangled together on the wide couch below the mullioned window. Orsino naked on the rug before the crackling fire, beckoning her close. The dark fire in his eyes as he drove her to climax then held her as the world faded into a blur.
‘Don’t worry, Bettina. I’ll try again later. Bye.’ He didn’t sound in the least loverlike.
Poppy told herself his relationships didn’t matter to her. But she lied. Was Bettina his lover? Distress squirmed in her belly. She schooled her face to hide it.
‘You’re back early.’
She shrugged, nodding to the rain pelting against the glass. ‘We filmed outdoors but the weather beat us. We’ll work inside tomorrow.’
He slipped his phone away and shoved his hands into his pockets. He didn’t reach for her and she wondered if she’d intruded on somethin
g. His wary stance put her senses on alert.
Deliberately she wandered closer, looking casually towards the enormous fireplace, noting the laptop open on an ottoman and a bundle of papers on the arm of a wing chair.
She kept her expression neutral as she met his eyes. No dark glasses today.
With a flick of deft fingers she undid her coat and shrugged it off, trailing it over the back of a tapestry-upholstered chair. Something flickered across his face and was gone.
‘You don’t seem pleased to see me, Orsino. Am I interrupting something?’ She was close enough now to see he wasn’t as unaffected as he pretended. His gaze was riveted on her lips, still a glossy rich crimson from today’s shoot. His big hands clenched at his sides and his chest rose mightily as if he struggled to inhale enough oxygen.
Good. She’d hate to be the only one feeling needy.
‘Orsino?’ Poppy paused, letting her mouth form a musing pout and feeling a pulse of satisfaction at his distracted stare. She moved closer, wondering if it would be too obvious if she slicked her tongue over her mouth.
Why not? Tentatively she swiped the tip of her tongue over her lower lip. His jaw tightened and cords of tension appeared in his neck.
It was deliciously empowering, knowing Orsino was as vulnerable to her as she was to him.
She told herself that was all she wanted: a purely physical relationship. So where her next words came from she didn’t know.
‘I couldn’t help overhearing. Is there some problem with your computer?’
Orsino’s face was blank, only his eyes were alive, fixed on her mouth with an intensity that sent arousal glissading through her.
‘Orsino? Have I got lipstick on my teeth?’
‘No.’ His voice was a scraping bass note that made her skin prickle and her nipples tighten. ‘You have the sexiest mouth I’ve ever seen. I can’t get enough of it.’
Poppy blinked, stunned at his admission. Generous lover though he was, he rarely hinted at the depth of his passion. He let his body do that.
