Grant realised that beneath her fine clothes she was what every man dreamed of—a vision of incomparable beauty—and he wanted to see for himself, to possess it. His long-starved passion flared. She had got under his skin, into his blood, and her mere touch, the scent of her, sent desire running through his veins. She was sensual, unaffected and yet sophisticated, and as he looked at her his mind drifted back to when he had robbed her of her virtue.
It gave him satisfaction to know he had been the one to take it, and he was impatient for the time when he could repeat the act—only this time he would be the most tender of lovers, and have her moaning with rapture. His eyes revelled in their freedom as they feasted hungrily on her face—her lips.
Adeline felt it, felt devoured by it, and it took an effort of will to remain pliant beneath his probing eyes. ‘What—what is it you want?’ she asked. Her voice didn’t sound her own to her ears.
‘You,’ he answered.
‘Oh, I see.’
‘Yes—and I think you want me. Let’s get this clear. You don’t want to eat. You don’t want to dance. So—why are we still here?’
Adeline kept her eyes carefully on his face. ‘Where should we be?’
‘Somewhere else.’
‘Where do you suggest? Your—hotel room, perhaps?’ she whispered, her eyes on his lips.
‘Yes, but not tonight. Not when your head is clouded with champagne. When you come to my bed—’
‘When?’ Her eyes snapped. ‘You are certain of that, are you? Not if?’
‘It’s inevitable, Adeline, and only a matter of time—perhaps tomorrow, when we have taken Lettie to the station.’ His smile was salacious. ‘That will give you something to think about from now until then. When you come to my bed—of your own accord—it will be an intoxication of a different kind that brings us together. We shall both be fully aware of what is happening between us, I promise you,’ he said, on a note of tender finality. ‘But I warn you—you may find something more eternal, more binding than a simple act of love.’
In her fuddled mind, Adeline had no idea what he meant by that. Earlier she had made a conscious decision to keep him at arm’s length—now she was about to renege on her decision. Nervous, she turned her gaze away and gnawed on her bottom lip.
Grant watched her warily, and her eyes wavered beneath his direct gaze. Lifting a finger, he slowly traced the soft fullness of her bottom lip, then murmured, ‘You’re trembling.’
‘Am I?’ She watched his gaze turn warm and sensual.
Gently taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger, he nodded. ‘I’ll forgive you for kissing that young reprobate if you kiss me now.’
Adeline’s whole body stilled as his finely chiselled lips began to descend to hers, and she sought to forestall what her heart told her was the inevitable by saying, ‘What if someone should come out onto the terrace and see us?’
A flame appeared in his eyes and kindled brighter, and his warm lips trailed a hot path over her cheek to her ear. ‘Let them. It doesn’t matter,’ he murmured huskily.
His tongue lightly touched the lobe of her ear, delicately probing the crevices, until Adeline shivered with the waves of tension shooting through her. The instant he felt her trembling response his arms went round her, drawing her into his protective embrace. His hand curved around her nape, sensually stroking, and his warm breath caressed her cheek as his mouth began tracing a path to her lips.
Imprisoned by his embrace, seduced by his mouth and caressing hands, Adeline pressed herself close to his hard body, moving her hands up his broad chest, her fingers sliding into the soft hair at his nape, her body arching to his, fitting his powerful frame. Slowly she slipped into a dark abyss of desire as she fully received his kiss, first with hesitancy, then with welcome, then with passion, feeling a wild, incredible sweetness.
The tender offering of her mouth wrung a half-laugh, half-groan from Grant, and, tightening his arms, he seized her lips with his in a kiss of scorching demand, crushing down on them, parting them, his tongue driving into her mouth with a hungry urgency. Adeline’s world careened dizzily. His mouth was insistent, demanding, relentless, snatching her breath as well as her poise as primitive sensations went jarring through her entire body. The fierceness of his kiss changed to softness, to the velvet touch of intoxication, and the breath that sighed through her lips was the sigh that came when a woman was deep in the pleasures of the flesh.
When Grant finally released her lips an eternity later—which took more effort than he’d expected, leaving him feeling almost bereft—Adeline surfaced gradually from the sensual place where he had sent her, still feeling the thrill of the invasion of his tongue, and all the sensations that had followed. Forcing her eyes open so that she could look at his face—hard with passion, eyes smouldering—with trembling effort she collected herself, and as he looked down at her she drew a deep, ragged breath.
Until now she had tried to convince herself that her memory of the passion that had erupted between them at Westwood Hall was exaggerated, but his kiss had surpassed her imaginings. A breeze riffled through the trellising, teasing the trailing roses and caressing her bare shoulders. His hands stroked soothingly up and down her arms and his eyes held hers. Suddenly the sounds of music and laughter began to penetrate Adeline’s drugged senses, and a noisy group of young people burst onto the terrace.
Grant’s sensual lips curved in a half-smile and, reaching out, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. ‘It’s getting late. Would you like me to take you home?’
‘Yes. I promised I’d call in and see Lettie before going to bed. I’m going to miss her when she goes home.’
Grant’s grin was tigerish. ‘Not immediately, I hope.’ As much as he didn’t want to send Lettie back to their mother, he was impatient for the short time he would have alone with Adeline before he had to leave for the boat train to the continent. ‘I shall try and restrain myself until tomorrow, when we will settle this matter between us—you will be mine before the day is done.’
Adeline stared at him, realising he meant every word he said. Her mind reeled beneath the impact of the last few minutes. Grant meant what he said and she was absolutely certain that she would be unable to withstand his persuasive, unrelenting assault—and now she wasn’t at all certain that she wanted to.
The next morning it was a pale and troubled Lettie that Grant and Adeline put on the train for Ashford. Emma was to go with her. Weak as she was, Lettie was going home to Newhill Lodge and her mother. She felt she would stifle if she stayed in London any longer, with her mind going round and round in distressing circles of—what? Sorrow, aching loss, regret, guilt? What she did acknowledge was that the physical pain had diminished, and so had the mental pain, if she would admit it to herself.
Adeline and Grant watched the train until it was out of sight, and then they left the station and returned to where the carriage was waiting. Assuming they could carry on where they’d left off last night, and refusing to relinquish control, acting on his words and intending to have things his way, Grant instantly told the driver to take them to the Charing Cross Hotel.
Seated at his side, Adeline looked at him. Before Marjorie’s party she had told herself she would refuse any attempt he made at seduction. Then at the first possible moment she had practically thrown herself at him. Grant turned his head and caught her watching him, and a shock of lightning seemed to shoot from his body straight into hers. Without moving a muscle or saying a word he was emanating an aura of predatory male that was tangible enough to cut with a knife.
Adeline wondered what she was letting herself in for. Last night her head had been so fuddled with champagne that she’d have agreed to anything he suggested—but that had been last night, and now her stomach cramped with nervous uncertainty. But Grant was hardly a stranger, an unknown entity. There was no denying that she was wildly attracted to him. She thought of him a thousand times a day, and every thought was sweeter than the last. And there was no d
enying that the idea of repeating what she had experienced before made her knees weak.
‘What time do you have to leave for your train?’ she asked, for something to say—anything to break the silence between them.
‘Why?’ His brows drew together and a gleam of intent entered his eyes. ‘Are you afraid I’ll be rushing off?’
‘No,’ she said, looking away. ‘I—I just wondered, that was all.’
Placing his finger beneath her chin, he turned her head back to his. In silence he studied her face, as if he were searching for an answer, then he leant forward and captured her mouth, kissing her long and deep. When he finally lifted his head he gazed down into her eyes, unconsciously memorising the way she looked, all flushed and alluring.
‘Four o’clock,’ he murmured in answer to her question. ‘So that leaves us plenty of time to—’ his eyes fastened greedily on her lips once more ‘—get to know one another.’
Adeline’s senses were beginning to reel with the shock of her decision and his closeness, and her treacherous heart began to beat a trifle faster. She suffered what remained of the journey in a state of tension, anticipating what would happen when they reached his rooms.
The hotel was busy with people coming and going. They took the lift to the third floor. On opening the door to his suite of rooms, Adeline was surprised and more than a little embarrassed to see a well-groomed, middle-aged man standing at a desk, carefully putting papers and files into a large leather case. He looked up and smiled.
‘Ah, Vickers,’ Grant said. ‘Allow me to present Miss Osborne. Adeline, this is John Vickers—my secretary, valet. Call him what you like, but I could not do without him.’
‘I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Osborne,’ Mr Vickers said courteously, closing the case and carrying it to the door. ‘Now, you must excuse me. I have things to do before we leave.’ He looked at Grant. ‘I’ll see you in the foyer at three-thirty, Mr Leighton.’
Grant followed him, giving the stalwart secretary a set of instructions before closing the door on him. ‘Vickers is to accompany me to France,’ Grant explained, walking back to Adeline. ‘He’s been with me a long time. He’s highly competent, discreet and indispensable.’ Suddenly he became aware of Adeline’s stillness and he frowned questioningly at the look of apprehension on her face. ‘Adeline? Is there something wrong?’
Clutching her reticule with both hands, Adeline looked at him, her faltering courage beginning to collapse. ‘I can’t do this,’ she whispered. She’d spent the time while he was talking to Mr Vickers trying desperately to decide whether her misgivings were based on good judgement or panic.
Wordlessly, Grant took her reticule and placed it on the desk, then he took her gloved hands and drew her towards him. ‘What do you mean, you can’t?’ he demanded gently.
‘I can’t, Grant. Not now.’ Her voice trembled and she looked towards the door in her desperation to escape. ‘I—I think I need time.’
Drawing her hands from his grasp, she moved away from him. But the urgency and regret in his deep voice checked her in midstep and made her fear of him absurd. ‘I am to leave for the continent at four o’clock, Adeline. Time is the one thing we don’t have.’
That there’d be time enough for loneliness when she returned to Rosehill made her realise how foolish she was being to turn down an opportunity that was heaven-sent. All her defences began to crumble. She could not deny herself the memories he’d make for her if she stayed.
When she looked at his handsome features an ache swelled in her chest. ‘Grant,’ she whispered a little shakily, and watched his expression soften at the sound of her voice. ‘I’m sorry.’ She held out her hand in a gesture of conciliation. ‘For a moment I—I panicked.’
Grant saw the yielding softness in her eyes, and somewhere deep inside him he felt the stirrings of an emotion that made him reach out and draw her into his arms. He wanted her so much he couldn’t bear to think she would deny him now. When she melted against him, the hot, sweet smell of her whipped up the blood in his veins. Releasing her without a word, and with his eyes holding hers like a magnet, he took her hand and drew her into the bedroom, closing the door firmly behind them.
Taking off his outer garments, he then removed Adeline’s hat and with infinite care unpinned her hair. When the last pin was out she gave her head a hard shake, and her hair tumbled down her back in a shining mass. Grant marvelled at its luxuriant, thick, rich texture and colour, running it through his fingers, pausing now and then to kiss her lips, her cheek, her neck.
Her eyes drifted closed and her breath came out in a sigh as she kissed him softly and felt his lips answer, moving on hers, while his arms tightened around her. Breaking the kiss, she half opened her eyes and saw that the silver-grey eyes were beginning to smoulder.
With his lips against hers, Grant murmured, ‘Let’s go to bed,’ his long fingers beginning to unfasten the buttons down the front of her three-quarter-length coat.
Grant obviously had no inhibitions about undressing in front of her, but Adeline was self-conscious enough for them both. When she turned away, Grant realised that she was embarrassed and shy about revealing her naked body. With an understanding smile he went to her and turned her round. Placing his finger beneath her chin, he tilted her head to his.
‘Do you forget, Adeline, that I have seen you naked before now? You have a beautiful body—so why the reticence? Come. Since there is no lady’s maid to assist, allow me to oblige.’
The sight of Adeline’s naked body—a miracle of ripe curves and glowing flesh—made Grant’s heart slam against his ribs. Her breasts were perfect, her legs just as long and shapely as he remembered. In fact, she was stunning. Whoever had thought Adeline Osborne plain and uninteresting did not know her—and nor would they, he vowed, swearing that no other man but himself would ever see her like this.
‘You take my breath away,’ he whispered, drawing her against him.
When she wound her arms around his neck and placed soft, feather-light kisses on his neck, the solid wall of his chest and his sinewed shoulders, his heart constricted with an emotion so intense, so profound, that it made him ache. Her breath was sweet against his throat. Dear God, she was so warm, so womanly, long and slender, but curving against his body, doing what she could to get even closer. His male body rejoiced in it, for it told him he held a warm and willing woman in his arms.
To Adeline, the moment was one of poignant discovery. His skin felt like warm silk over steel as her fingers slid through the short, dark matting of hair on his chest. His jaw was set, his cheekbones angular, his mouth firm yet sensual, his eyes hard and dark with passion—and for now he was hers.
When he pulled her down onto the bed their restraint broke, and together they were caressing, seeking hands and eager mouths. They were both aflame, both burning with the same need. He was kissing her with a raw, urgent hunger, his hands claiming her body, sliding over her breasts, her waist and back to her face, shoving his fingers into her silken hair, holding her a willing prisoner. She moaned with joy as his mouth touched her breasts, and so lost was she in the desire he was so skilfully building inside her that she scarcely noticed when he eased her body beneath his own.
As he entered her she expelled a breath at the exquisite sensation of her body opening to him like a flower. No holding back, she strained towards him with trembling need, each instinctive, demanding thrust pushing her closer to the edge and bringing exquisite pleasure. Grant, unlike Adeline, did hold back, for he wanted her to experience as much as his body would allow before he lost control.
Afterwards, when their passion had finally exploded in a burst of extravagant pleasure, in languid exhaustion and bone-deep satisfaction they lay close together, facing each other, breathless from exertion, clinging to the fading euphoria. Contentment stole over them both, lapping gently. They trembled with the rapture of their union, the passion which Grant had known with no other woman. Sliding his fingers over her spine, he watched her o
pen her eyes. Smiling, she nestled closer. Grant placed a kiss on the top of her head.
‘You are exquisite. How do you feel?’
‘Wonderful,’ she breathed, and she did.
As sanity returned it became obvious to her that the man who had just made love to her was indeed the same man who had made love to her before—but this time his technique had been perfect, unimpaired by alcohol. He had taken her not just sexually, but with a deeper, infinitely more alluring need—something profound.
‘What we did was very, very special to me.’ She raised her head and gave him a slumberous smile, sated and happy, the smile of a woman fulfilled. ‘Thank you.’
He shoved the hair from her smooth cheek, his eyes warm and serious and very tender. ‘My pleasure, Miss Osborne. Now I know what I missed, I am impatient to make up for lost time.’
Nestling closer to him, Adeline closed her eyes, letting the warmth deepen inside her, driving out everything else. At length she whispered, ‘I’m going to miss you. Will you think of me in France?’
His arm tightened round her. In that moment he realised that leaving her was going to be the hardest thing he had ever had to do. ‘All the time. I wish I didn’t have to go.’
She sighed against him. ‘So do I. Why are you going?’
‘Like your father, I am a businessman, Adeline, and a number of speculative ventures have come to my attention. I am interested in investing in several companies in France, and arrangements have been made for me to meet some prominent businessmen over there.’
‘But why go there? If the companies are limited why not simply buy shares in them?’
‘Because, my darling girl, I wish to know the real position of the companies I am to sink my money into, to be sure in my own mind that they will not fail to meet their liabilities. If they do, and my investments collapse, then I will only have myself to blame.’
Wicked Pleasures Page 22
