Rich, Ruthless and Secretly Royal

by Robyn Donald

  ‘I checked the bay when I drove in. I know the owner of the boat; his son and some of his friends—all at university—have been on a cruise around the Bay of Islands, and this is their last night. They’re good enough kids, but clearly they’ve been drinking.’ As if it was an afterthought, he went on, ‘A lot of deaths at sea are linked to alcohol.’

  Of course, his mother had drowned. Quietly Hani asked, ‘What can you do?’

  ‘Hail them from the beach, then take them back to the marina.’

  Unthinkingly she said, ‘How will you get home? Arthur?’

  He gave her another keen glance, something kindling in the depths of his eyes that set her pulse dancing. ‘Arthur’s planning to go out tonight. Why don’t you drive to Kaitake and pick me up from there?’

  Hani realised that she’d been offered her chance to countermand her rejection. A wild, sweet excitement charged her body with delight. ‘Yes, of course.’ Before she could say anything else a particularly noisy yell made her glance anxiously over her shoulder. ‘But will you be safe? They sound violent.’

  ‘They’re just horsing around,’ he said with such rock-solid confidence that she almost stopped worrying. ‘To be fair, they probably don’t know there’s someone in residence here.’

  Apprehension warred with acceptance. One of the reasons she’d learned to trust Kelt was that sense of responsibility; he wouldn’t have been Kelt if he hadn’t decided to take them back.

  But when he turned to go she grabbed his sleeve. ‘Kelt—wait. I don’t think—’

  He looked down at her. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said calmly. ‘I’m not stupid. If I didn’t know them I’d get back-up, but they’re not bad. Just a bit wild and, at the moment, more than a bit drunk.’

  Hani stared at him, then reached up and kissed his mouth. He went rigid, and she was just about to pull back in sick humiliation when he snatched her into his arms and returned the kiss with an uncompromising passion that sent hunger rocketing through her.

  Eyes gleaming, he put her away from him and surveyed her with narrowed, glittering eyes. ‘You shouldn’t do that sort of thing if you don’t want to arouse false hopes.’

  ‘I do,’ she said, flushing hotly.

  ‘Do what?’

  That fierce kiss had unsealed something inside her, let loose a need that ached through her like a sweet fever.

  ‘Do want to arouse,’ she repeated, holding his gaze as more colour scorched across her face. ‘And the hopes wouldn’t be false.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  EYES narrowed and intent, Kelt looked down at her. Hani gave him a tremulous, shy smile. He made as if to step towards her, then stopped. His hands clenched at his sides, and he said between his teeth, ‘I’ll hold you to that.’

  Hani’s heart pounded, almost blocking out the sound of the waves on the sand. What had she done? But it was right; some primal womanly instinct told Hani that if she didn’t surrender to this moment, this man, she’d regret it for the rest of her life.

  Trying to look cool and sophisticated, she said, ‘I’ll see you at the marina.’

  ‘It will take the cruiser about half an hour to get there.’ He paused another charged moment, then turned and strode off towards the beach without looking back.

  Tensely, anxiously, Hani watched him come to a stop just above the tidemark. He didn’t have to hail the boat; the men on the cruiser saw him, and after a short shouted exchange of words a small rubber dinghy came hurtling recklessly towards the shore, grounding on the sand with a jerk that almost hurled the driver overboard.

  Kelt said something that set the driver laughing as he collected himself. With one strong, sure movement Kelt heaved the dinghy into deeper water, then swung lithely into the craft and took the controls.

  Hani relaxed, thinking with a trace of irony that her anxiety had been entirely wasted. But she stayed there, fingers knotted together, her straining gaze fixed on his tall, athletic figure until he climbed into the cruiser. The other men crowded around him, clearly welcoming his arrival. Ten minutes later the anchor rattled up, and the big boat swung smoothly around, a faint wake feathering the water as it made its way out between the tree-clad headlands.

  Almost half an hour later to the minute, Hani watched the big cruiser ease into a mooring at the marina. The disembarked sailors were less noisy by now, and became noticeably more subdued when they were met by a man—presumably the owner of the boat. Kelt spoke to him, and the two men shook hands before Kelt started towards her.

  Her heart picked up speed again, and her eyes turned hungry. He looked…wonderful. Tall and lithe and—hers. For tonight, anyway.

  Oh, she hoped so.

  ‘Everything’s OK,’ he said briefly as he got into the passenger seat.

  Feeling oddly pleased that he trusted her to drive him home, she put the car in gear and concentrated on backing out. ‘Obviously you didn’t have any trouble with them.’

  He looked a trifle surprised. ‘Not after I pointed out that by letting me take them back they might—just—be trusted to take the cruiser out again, whereas they wouldn’t have a show if I had to ring the owner and ask him to come and deal with the situation.’

  Her laugh took him by surprise. Low and huskily seductive, it rippled through the car like music. ‘You should do that more often,’ he said without thinking.

  ‘What? Reverse?’

  ‘Laugh. I don’t think I’ve heard it before.’

  What the hell had happened to her? Something so traumatic that it had killed her laughter.

  Her sideways glance reminded him of a hunted animal, but her voice was level and cool. ‘I’m sure you must have—or am I that glum?’

  ‘I wouldn’t describe you as glum.’ Look at the road, he told himself. If he kept his eyes off her perhaps he could restrain his reckless hunger, so heady it threatened to unleash the control he’d always kept over himself.

  He’d never had any worry about restraint before, but tonight, with Hannah, he’d need to temper his carnal craving. She’d had at least one bad experience; he didn’t want to terrify her, or hurt her.

  He wanted to make it perfect for her.

  She startled him by saying, ‘If I haven’t laughed in the time you’ve known me I must be lousy company.’

  ‘Fishing?’ he asked laconically, because talking nonsense might help. ‘You must realise that I find your company extremely—stimulating. Your laughter was worth the wait.’

  More than anything—even more than satisfying the carnal hunger that prowled through him—he wanted to hear her laugh again.

  Fiercely Hani concentrated on driving. His words twisted her heart, adding something vital to the purely physical charge between them.

  If she kept on this way, she thought in a sudden panic, she might end up loving him, a willing prisoner of desire.

  She didn’t dare.

  She just didn’t have the courage to open her heart again, to accept the possibility—no, she admitted starkly, the inevitability—of pain.

  About to tell him she couldn’t go through with it, she clamped her lips together. Don’t dress this up as love, she advised herself trenchantly. You did that once before, and look where it got you…

  Think of making love to Kelt as medicine you have to take to get well again.

  Nice medicine…

  And could have laughed at the banality of her thoughts. Making love to Kelt would be a sensuous, mind-blowing delight, nothing like medicine.

  And she was going to do it because she’d let Felipe’s brutality crush her instincts for far too long. But more—oh, so much more, some hidden part of her jeered—because she wanted Kelt. Wanted him so much she could actually taste the longing on her tongue; she ached with it, afire with the hunger that now seemed so normal, so natural. Anticipation ran hotly through her, melting her racing, tumbled thoughts, her inhibitions in a flood of hungry desire.

  She said, ‘I’ll see to it that I laugh more, then.’

  ‘I’ll look forward
to it,’ he told her with a narrow smile that made her concentrate on keeping her breath steady.

  The rest of the trip home was conducted in almost complete silence.

  Home? she thought in bewilderment, shocked at the mental slip. Moraze had always been her one true home, but somehow this beautiful, peaceful place had become precious.

  Slowing down as they approached the turn-off to his house, she said, ‘Oh, I forgot. Your car is at the bach.’ She flashed him a glance. ‘Would you like to stay to dinner?’

  She didn’t dare look at him again during the short silence before he said, ‘Thank you, yes. I need a shower, so drop me off here and I’ll walk down.’

  Obediently she did that, saying just as he got out, ‘I’ve already made chilli, but I like it hot. If you don’t I can make something else, although it won’t be meat.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I like it hot too,’ he said, his cool tone very much at variance with the dark gleam in his eyes.

  Hani drove off, wondering what on earth had pushed her into that invitation. A weak effort to give their lovemaking some context, a feeble pretence that it meant more than a soulless connection of bodies?

  Probably, she thought, but at least this time she knew what she was doing.

  Gabby greeted her with joy from amidst a newspaper in shreds over the sitting-room floor. Laughing, Hani cleared it up, took the pup for a short walk outside, then hurried through the shower and into a sunfrock with a pretty little bolero to cover her upper arms as the sun went down.

  As she took the chilli from the fridge she wondered whether she should try to reduce its bite. Well, she had a large pot of New Zealand’s superb yoghurt and some coriander. If Kelt burnt his mouth he could ease it with that.

  With it she’d serve rice and a large green salad, followed by strawberries and the yoghurt. A bubble of anticipation expanded in her stomach.

  But she had no wine. After a moment she shrugged. It wasn’t necessary, and besides, wine and chilli didn’t always go well together. Anyway, she didn’t need alcohol; she was half-intoxicated already, as though the very best French champagne were circulating through her veins.

  When Kelt came in through the door the feeling of delirious lightness morphed into something darker, more potent. Deep inside her a smouldering erotic hunger blazed into desperate life at the hard-honed angles of his handsome face, the air of power and command that controlled his compelling masculinity.

  In a raw voice he said, ‘I brought some champagne, but I don’t need it. Just looking at you is enough to make me drunk.’

  Hani had no idea what to say. Unevenly she finally managed, ‘Put it in the fridge.’

  She’d imagined them sitting outside as the sun sank over the hills, talking a little, but suddenly she felt she couldn’t wait. Trying to hide the heady clamour of desire, she stirred the chilli, but when the silence stretched too far she had to glance up.

  He was still watching her, his eyes narrowed and intent, his mouth a hard, straight line.

  Hunger tore at her. Smiling tremulously, she put the spoon down.

  He took a step towards her before stopping to say in a thick, driven voice, ‘I’m not going to touch you. Not yet.’

  Something splintered into shards of sensation inside her. In a tone she didn’t recognise she said, ‘In that case, do you mind if I touch you?’

  ‘Hannah,’ he said, and then with a tight, humourless laugh, ‘No, you should be Honey. It suits you much better. Warm and golden and sweet—you’ve been tormenting me ever since I saw you. Once you touch me I doubt very much if I’ll be responsible for anything that happens.’

  Dazzled by the thought of affecting him so strongly, she came slowly towards him, eyes darkening as she took in the control he was exerting, the clenched hands, his waiting, predatory stillness.

  She should be afraid, she thought exultantly, but she wasn’t scared of Kelt.

  Hands behind her back, she stood on tiptoe and kissed the tanned hollow of his throat. He made a muffled sound and his arms came around her, pulling her against him so hard she could feel every rigid muscle, the powerful male strength he was keeping in check, the rapid uneven pounding of his heart—and the hunger that met and matched hers.

  And then he lifted her, and she remembered how amazingly safe she’d always felt in his arms. Hers tightened around his neck as he shouldered through the door into the bedroom and across to the big bed, sitting her down on the side with a gentleness that reassured every drifting, hardly recognised fear.

  He dropped a swift, famished kiss on her throat, then straightened, looking down at her with a glitter in his eyes that set her pulses racing so fast she thought she might faint with anticipation.

  ‘I don’t even dare undress you,’ he said with a taut smile. ‘I might tear this pretty thing, and that would be a shame.’

  He was talking, she realised, to ease the tension that gripped them both. A swift relief swept over her at his understanding. In a soft, low voice she said, ‘Then perhaps we should undress ourselves.’

  ‘An excellent idea.’ He stepped back and his hands went to the opening of his shirt.

  Fascinated, she watched his lean fingers flick open the buttons to reveal the broad chest beneath, his powerful muscles emphasised by a scroll of hair across the sleek, tanned skin. Excitement clamoured through Hani, a fierce demand she’d never known before.

  When he’d shrugged out of his shirt she said on a sharp, indrawn breath, ‘You are—magnificent.’

  ‘Thank you.’ One black brow rose when she continued drinking him in.

  Flushing, she pulled off her tiny bolero, revealing her bare shoulders. Heat kindled in the cold blue flames of his eyes, but he made no move towards her as she eased the sundress over her head.

  Too shy to let it drop to the floor, she let it hang loosely in front of her. Dry-throated, she said, ‘I think it must be your turn.’

  He removed his shoes and socks, then let his trousers drop to the floor.

  Hani dragged a startled breath into empty lungs. Long legs, strongly muscled from riding, narrow hips, and he was—big, she thought, her eyes darting from the sole part of his anatomy that was still clothed.

  ‘May I?’

  Closing her eyes for a second, she nodded, opening them only when he’d taken her dress from her nerveless fingers and put it on the chair beside the bed.

  Clad only in one small scrap of cotton, she had never felt so naked.

  Harshly he said, ‘You are utterly beautiful.’

  And for him she felt beautiful. With a trembling smile she held out her arms, and he came down beside her with a rush, tumbling her backwards so that her breasts were exposed and open to his eager mouth.

  But first he kissed her lips—tender, quick kisses that stoked the fires between her loins unbearably. Then he possessed himself of her mouth, plunging deep in an imitation of the most intimate embrace of all. Almost immediately she shuddered with hunger, her straining body afire against the hard, potent length of his, her breath coming in short, hoarse pants, her eyes wild as she stared up into his face.

  Hani expected him to take her there and then, but instead he kissed her breasts, made himself master of her body, caressing with his hands and his tongue so that her every cell recognised and responded to his touch.

  And he gave her the freedom to do the same to him until she learned intimately the swell of muscle and line of sinew, the fine matte texture of his skin, the contrast with the scrolls of hair across his chest, the way his body tensed beneath her seeking hands…

  Frantic, driven by a voluptuous desire, a longing so desperate all her fears disappeared, she pulled at him, her hands tightening across the sleek skin of his back, her voice urgent and importunate.

  Until at last he moved over her and with one smooth, easy thrust took her.

  Every muscle in Hani’s body contracted, welcoming him, clinging to him, beginning an involuntary, automatic rhythm that soared higher and higher into a place she’d never kn
own, so when at last the climax overwhelmed her in delight and ecstasy she cried out and surrendered completely.

  Only to be hurled further into that unknown rapture when he joined her there, his big body tense and bowed, his head flung back. Locked in erotic union, they reached that place together, and eventually came down together, slick bodies relaxing, their hearts slowing into a normal rhythm until Kelt turned to catch her in his arms again and pull her against him.

  He kissed her wordless murmur into silence, and said against her lips, ‘Tired?’

  ‘Mmm,’ she said, and he laughed, and held her while she slid into sleep unlike anything she’d ever known before.

  It was dark when she woke, and she knew instantly that he was awake. She was sprawled across him, her head pillowed on one shoulder, her hair streaming across his chest.

  He must have sensed her wakening, because he said, ‘It’s almost midnight.’

  ‘Oh, lord,’ she said, suffused with guilt, ‘and I haven’t fed you! How long have you been awake?’

  ‘Long enough.’ He dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

  ‘Long enough for what?’

  The silence was so short she thought it hadn’t happened until he drawled wickedly, ‘To work up an appetite.’

  She spluttered into laughter, and hurtled off the bed. ‘Then we’d better eat that dinner—if it’s still edible,’ she said, climbing into her dressing gown.

  Smiling, he got up, and together they ate, took Gabby out, and drank a little champagne, only to leave it unfinished when desire overpowered them once more.

  Hani slept again, but woke to tears aching behind her eyes, tears that spilled across Kelt’s chest. Grateful that he stayed asleep, she surrendered to bitter-sweet joy. In his arms she’d found true fulfilment, and now she knew that when this interlude was over she’d spend the rest of her life longing for him.

  But she had never been so happy. Making love with Kelt had been—amazing and wonderful and glorious and sensuous and…just plain magnificent.