‘I could always remain safely tucked away in my bedroom until I was fit to come back downstairs,’ he murmured, lowering those magnificent eyes of his so that she couldn’t tell whether he was joking or not.
Jude made a decision. ‘If you give them to me, I’ll put a wash on.’
‘Only if you’re sure…’
‘Why shouldn’t I be?’ She gave another tinkling laugh to indicate surprise that he might think otherwise and stood up, stretching, because her legs were now stiff from her awkward sitting position.
‘No reason. I just wouldn’t want to embarrass you…’ Cesar looked at her with a little half smile and his eyebrows raised, the picture of pious solicitude. ‘I won’t take them off here. Nothing underneath. Boxers still drying on the radiator upstairs.’ His voice was apologetic and polite. ‘You may not embarrass easily, but far be it for me to put that to the test. I’ll leave them outside the bedroom door. Just give me a couple of minutes…’
He was in high spirits by the time he hit the sitting room, this time wearing the ubiquitous T-shirt and his silk boxers, now dry if a little crisp.
He would never have guessed in a million years that having to play truant from work would have such unexpected benefits. He’d certainly meant it when he’d told her that he would have to start arranging some more down time for himself because he hadn’t thought once about any emails he might have received, to which he needed to respond, nor had he been particularly bothered by the fact that his cell phone was switched off. He could have contacted his secretary, informed her that she had to get to the office and fill him in on whatever numbers he needed for client contact over the weekend, but he had rejected that idea even before it had fully taken shape. Incommunicado was working just fine for him, as it happened.
He went across to the fire. On the mantelpiece was a selection of books, most of them semi-architectural, a few dedicated to iconic designers and a couple of fictional works. He slotted out one of the architectural ones and was leafing through it when he sensed her by the door.
‘You don’t mind, do you?’ he asked, casually lounging and seemingly engrossed in the print in front of him.
Jude opened her mouth but nothing emerged. Seeing him standing there, with the light from the fire flickering over his hard, bronzed body, made her throat run dry. The tingly feeling was back, this time accompanied by a desperate need to sit down because her legs felt like jelly. She knew that it was absolutely imperative that she stop gaping like a teenager. It would be mortifying and disastrous if he suddenly looked up and spotted her doing her goldfish impression, right down to the bulging eyes, but she couldn’t wrest her eyes away from the fabulous perfection of his body. His stomach was flat and hard, his muscled legs long and lean with perfectly shaped calves and thighs. He stood there, indolently leaning against the wall, and he resembled a classical Greek statue. Living and breathing, she reminded herself shakily.
‘No, of course not.’ She remained hovering by the door, rooting through her brain for some excuse to vacate the room in favour of some other part of the house, where she could get her breathing stabilized.
‘You never told me what sort of design work you do,’ Cesar mused, slowly turning to face her. The curtains had been drawn and the overhead lights switched off in favour of the two lamps on the tables either side of the sofa and the standard lamp in the corner of the room.
‘You never asked,’ Jude stammered.
‘Why are you dithering by the door?’ He snapped shut the book, tucked it under his arm and strolled to the sofa, where he proceeded to sit down and extend his long legs on the low table in front of him. Then he patted the space next to him, which Jude chose to ignore in favour of the less challenging one on the chair by the fire. Arguing with him, bristling and fending off accusations seemed like a walk in the park compared to the weird, gut-wrenching sensation of having an amicable conversation while looking at his semi-clothed figure.
‘There’s an architectural theme to your books.’
‘I began studying architecture,’ Jude said, eyes above waist level, ‘but I had to quit because it was too long and I needed to go out to work.’ He tilted his head to one side with a show of immense interest. ‘My mother had just died and my sister’s husband was laid off at just the wrong time because they had a newborn. The proceeds from the house…well, it wasn’t much and she needed it a lot more than I did…’
‘Tough call,’ Cesar said sympathetically.
‘These things happen. I really enjoyed interior design so I decided that that was the next best thing and, as it turns out, I’m pretty good at it because I can offer more than just a load of advice about colour and soft furnishings. I can help with all the fundamental stuff to do with restructuring houses so they get my knowledge without the big bill at the end. If a qualified architect gets involved, he usually just has to sign off on drawings that have already been done.’ She couldn’t resist a smile of pride.
‘Talented lady.’
Jude flushed with pleasure at the compliment. ‘I get by,’ she told him with a little shrug. ‘I may not be rolling in money but I’ve been able to buy this cottage and most of the mortgage has been paid off because my sister’s husband went back out to work a year and a half ago and she’s managed to repay me the money I gave her. Not that I asked for it.’
‘And she lives around here?’
‘On the other side of the world, actually. Australia.’
‘So you’re here on your own…’ Was that how she and Fernando had become so close? Two lonely souls gravitating towards one another? He reopened the book, which had been resting on the sofa next to him. ‘This place…’ he said slowly. ‘Where is it? I like it. Like the dimensions of the rooms…’ He gave her a lazy look from under his lashes and saw her fractional hesitation before she came across to where he was sitting. Deliberately, he kept the book on his lap, frowning down at the series of black and white photos spread across two pages, so that she either had to circle the sofa and lean over him or else…yes, as she was doing now…sit next to him.
‘That’s one of my favourite apartment renovations,’ she said, keeping her distance, which was awkward because it involved angling her body to see the pictures without toppling onto him. ‘Ferrea has managed to combine comfort with modern, clean lines. Some apartments can lack soul if they’re too avant-garde but look there…’ she pointed to details ‘…he uses a lot of wood in crucial places and the addition of those beams…brilliant…’ She leaned closer to him in her enthusiasm and stiffened as she brushed against his arm. It was just a feathery touch but it resonated through her in deep, disturbing waves which made her pull back sharply.
When she sneaked a look at him, it was to find him staring right back at her with his bitter chocolate eyes. His expression was shuttered and yet, strangely, she seemed able to read intent there and that made her draw in her breath as the colour rose into her face and her eyes widened in acknowledgement of everything that was not being said. Or maybe she was misreading the situation. She had been on her own for a long time. Maybe her imagination had become over-developed in direct proportion to her isolation.
She became aware that she was holding her breath and also that he was still looking at her.
‘I guess,’ she said, clearing her throat and blinking, ‘that’s just about one of the few modern places I could actually see…see…er…myself living in…’ She gave a nervous laugh and gestured around her. ‘I mean…you can tell that I’m the kind of person who goes for the weathered…look…’ Her voice faded because he raised his hand and curved it at the nape of her neck. Then he began stroking her, just his thumb against her skin, moving in tiny circles that sent fireworks through her body.
Jude had no idea what was going on but she wasn’t fighting him, and somewhere deep inside she realised that she had been imagining just this moment, when he would reach out and touch her.
She closed her eyes on a sigh as he pulled her gently towards him…
C
HAPTER FOUR
FOR CESAR, THIS felt right. He curled her into him and the kiss, which started softly explorative, became deeper and more urgent. She gasped when they finally broke apart and sucked in a lungful of air.
‘What’s going on?’
‘A kiss. What would you like to be going on now?’ Cesar questioned softly. It was odd but this was the first time he had ever held a woman with short hair. Had he always been so predictable in his tastes? He glibly criticized his brother for always being attracted to the same type of woman, but he was no different. Neither of them had ever looked outside the box for anything different and he realised that he had never sought anyone who could challenge him. He had never wanted anyone to break through the layer of steel he had concocted around himself. Intimate conversations had been discouraged, as had any games of domestic bliss. Relationships without depth had been safe because they could never threaten the predictable course of his life.
Now this woman.
Cesar frowned, thrown by a surge of complex, conflicting thoughts, but then he relaxed. This felt right because it made sense. He was attracted to her, even though she ticked none of the usual boxes and, more than that, by taking her, wouldn’t he be safeguarding his brother from a potential gold-digger? She made all the right noises about not wanting money and said all the right things about just wanting Fernando as a friend, but money was a powerful magnet and, just in case she had the slightest thought of worming her way into Fernando’s affections, what better way to prevent that than by making her his own first?
It made no difference to Cesar whether she was after money or not because he, unlike his brother, was well equipped to handle any sort of woman. He, unlike his brother, could handle anything.
‘We were…talking about designers…’ she stammered, reaching out for the first thing she could think of that might restore normality, but she couldn’t drag her eyes away from his beautiful face. She felt as though she were drowning.
‘So we were…’ Cesar agreed. He angled his long body into a more comfortable position on the sofa, never releasing her, just shifting her into position.
With no messy, tumbling hair everywhere, he could really appreciate the grace of her neck, the slimness of her shoulders, the exquisite daintiness of her heart-shaped face.
He slid his hands to span her waist and slowly caressed the satiny smooth skin with his fingers. ‘You were telling me about that apartment…how much you admired the guy who designed it…’ He gently parted her legs with his thigh, a small but significant movement because now she was straddling him and he could move his leg against her while he continued to look earnestly into her eyes.
Cesar didn’t know quite how he was managing to maintain this level of self-control when what he wanted to do was rip off her clothes and indulge in the glory of making love to her.
Nor did he know just how long he had been nurturing those thoughts. When had his suspicions morphed into lust?
The material of her trousers felt abrasive against his naked thigh.
Jude sighed and her eyelids fluttered as the heat and moisture built up inside her until she felt incapable of doing anything but riding the growing tide of desire.
He was moving his leg against her crotch and she liked it. God, how she liked it! She pressed herself against his muscled thigh and a wave of sensuous pleasure drained her of all coherent thought. Her sigh turned into a moan when he placed his hands on her bottom and pushed her down hard against him so that now her swollen, sensitised nub was being massaged even through her clothes.
‘Shh…’ Jude silenced him, and Cesar looked at her with a mixture of lazy triumph and a powerful, uncontrollable, surging craving. Her eyes were closed and she was arched back, the flats of her hands on either side of him so that their bodies only met at that point where his leg was rubbing against her.
Cesar was desperate to touch her but mingled with the conviction that she wanted him was the nagging thought that she really didn’t want to want him. It was just that her body had managed to ambush her logic. If he began touching her intimately, if he made a move to strip her of that tight little T-shirt that was the ultimate in tease because he could see so much and then the rest was left to the imagination…would she back off? Would her eyes fly open and logic reassert its rightful place?
Never hesitant in bed in his life before, he was taking on board the unaccustomed realisation that he would have to let her come to him. He would have to let her initiate that first move. Whether she knew it or not, she was in the driving seat and he had no choice but to relinquish the steering wheel to her.
The frustration was agonizing, so when she did lower herself, blindly seeking out his mouth, he couldn’t resist pulling her against him. His kiss was an assault on her senses as his tongue delved into the softness of her mouth.
Jude groaned. She could feel his hardness pushing against her as she lay down against him and instinctively she reached down with one hand and felt it, then she slipped her hand beneath his boxers and wrapped her fingers around the massive, throbbing shaft of steel.
Her body seemed to be operating on autodrive. Sex with James had been a pleasant business. Nothing like this.
‘Don’t begin what you can’t finish…’ Cesar said hoarsely, and Jude opened her eyes and gazed into his.
‘What would you do if I decided to walk away?’ she teased unsteadily. She had wondered what it would be like to see this big, powerful man in the grip of something beyond his control. She was seeing it now, as she continued to massage him until he was forced to put his hand over hers and squeeze tightly.
‘Continue our in-depth…our…’
She scrambled to pull the T-shirt over his head and, for a few seconds, revelled in the sight of him. She ran her hands over his broad chest, loving the hard definition of muscle against bone.
‘My turn now, wouldn’t you agree?’
Jude smiled and reached to yank off her top, but he was there first, ridding her of it in one fluid movement and stopping her before she could unclasp her bra at the back. Instead, he cupped her breasts and began playing with them, teasing her nipples through the lacy covering.
‘Neither of us is going anywhere,’ Cesar told her thickly, ‘so what’s the rush? I want to enjoy every inch of your beautiful body and I want to take my time.’ He scooped one small, ripe breast from the bra and almost lost control of himself.
Outside, night was rushing in. In the flickering light, he could see the fine film of perspiration making her face shine like smooth satin. He lowered her breast towards his mouth and felt her tremble under his hands. She was as supple as a cat, her slight, slim body yielding to him as he began suckling on her pink, hardened nipple.
She was hardly aware of him easing her jeans off, although she helped by wriggling free of them and she tried very hard not to be frantic when she tugged down his boxers.
‘Maybe we should go upstairs…’ she murmured.
‘The sofa’s more than big enough for the two of us. Besides, why waste a good fire?’ He rolled her onto her back and they swapped positions.
Jude looked up with a slow, curling smile as he pinned both her hands above her head and then lowered himself on her so that he could continue to lavish his attention on her breasts.
She kept her hands raised behind her, half hanging off the back of the sofa, even when he had moved his. Arched like this, his mouth on her nipples as he nuzzled and sucked, sent fire shooting through her body.
She couldn’t keep still. Little moans escaped as she twisted in a fever of longing and, as he eased himself lower, she curled her fingers into his hair, pushing him down and parting her legs, inviting him to taste her in a way no man had done before.
She shuddered as he trailed his tongue against the flat planes of her stomach, circling it around her belly button. She knew she said something at that point, something that made him give a low, sexy laugh, then his exploring mouth was moving lower until she could stand it no longer and he slipped his ton
gue into her.
In the same way as she had massaged him with her hand, so he teased her with his tongue, sliding it up and down over the swollen bud until she was bucking against him and gasping with the effort of not reaching her climax against his mouth.
Dimly, she was aware of the fact that there was no contraception to hand. This was a situation for which she had never catered and she wasn’t one of those thoroughly modern young women who kept a stash of protective measures just in case. There had been no just in case episodes in her life before.
She tried to work out whether she was in a safe period and decided that she was, although she realised that her mental arithmetic was a little sketchy just at the moment.
So when he finally levered himself onto her and asked her, unsteadily, whether she was protected, she had no hesitation in nodding.
He thrust into her and began moving deeply and firmly, and then faster as they both surrendered to their bodies. She cried out and jerked up just as he gave one final powerful thrust that sent him over the edge.
He was still breathing unevenly when his shuddering orgasm eventually eased him from its grip, as if he had run a marathon and was struggling to catch his breath.
He turned onto his side and pulled her against him, tucking her leg between his. Her hair was damp against her cheek and she looked drowsy. Drowsy and satisfied, he thought. Ever confident about his abilities in the bedroom, he found himself resisting the temptation to ask her whether it had been good for her, whether it was the best sex she had ever had. Since when had he ever been concerned by crazy notions like that?
‘I don’t know what happened just then.’ Jude could feel her heart beating like a drum inside her chest.
‘We made love.’
‘I know that, but I…I don’t do things like that. I mean, hop into bed with a man I barely know.’ Dawning reality was making her think that she should probably get up and get dressed but he had his arms around her and her body was suddenly lazy and weak.
The Notorious Gabriel DiazRuthless Tycoon, Inexperienced Mistress Page 22
