by Anne Mather
Or she would be, if he had anything to say about it.
His own clothes were less easily discarded. But with Rachel’s help he was soon as naked as she was. Then, just for the hell of it, he lifted her into his arms and let her wrap those long legs about his hips.
It meant his erection was close against her bottom, and that was painful. But he could wait, he told himself. They had the rest of their lives together.
‘D’you know how much I’ve wanted to be with you?’ he demanded, resting his forehead against hers. He could feel her breasts crushed against his chest, her sweet scent surrounding him. ‘I don’t think I’ve had a moment’s relaxation since you left.’
Rachel smiled. ‘I thought you wanted to go to bed,’ she murmured provocatively, and Matt growled deep in his throat.
‘I do,’ he told her huskily. ‘I’m just prolonging the moment. And anticipating what I’m going to do to you.’
‘And that would be…?’
‘You’ll find out,’ he assured her, his tone thickening, and, stepping forward, he tumbled her into the bed.
Rachel giggled then, and scrambled away from him. But he crawled onto the bed after her, catching her ankle and turning her onto her back.
‘Come here,’ he ordered, imprisoning her wrists above her head with one hand. Then he allowed his free hand to stroke a sensuous path from her throat to her breasts and beyond.
She bucked when his fingers slid into her cleft. But she remembered the pleasure he’d given her and spread her legs in innocent provocation.
‘Rachel,’ he groaned, his arousal not proof against such sensual seduction, and he moved to lie between her legs. Now she could feel his erection pulsing against her stomach, and knew that any control he had was rapidly being eroded.
His mouth covered hers with an urgency that confirmed her suspicions, his tongue thrusting eagerly between her lips. Hot and demanding, it twined with hers, its plunging possession imitating, in so many ways, that other possession he intended to take of her body.
‘You’re mine,’ he muttered, against her mouth. ‘And I’m never going to let you go.’
‘Promises, prom—’ she began, but her teasing words were stifled by his kiss.
Not that she cared. Freeing her hands, she clutched his neck, her fingers tangling in the damp hair at his nape. It was the purest kind of delight to be this close to him again, to know that, whatever happened now, they were together.
He straddled her then, and she levered herself up on her elbows to look down at him. With a confidence she’d hardly known she possessed, she took him into her hand and allowed her fingers to slide along the velvety length of his shaft.
There was a pearl of moisture on its tip, and she knew instinctively what would please him. She used her thumb to remove it and then deliberately put her thumb in her mouth.
That was when Matt lost it. Bearing her back against the pillows, he buried himself in her slick sheath, his laboured breathing an indication of how hard it had been for him to hold back for so long.
‘I love you,’ he said in a shaken voice, and Rachel’s nails dug possessively into his neck.
‘I love you, too,’ she whispered brokenly, and heard his groan of satisfaction as he buried his face between her breasts.
When he started to move again, Rachel needed no encouragement to move with him. And, although their lovemaking was curtailed when Matt’s body convulsed with his release a moment later, Rachel was only seconds behind him.
‘I’m sorry,’ Matt groaned when he could speak again. ‘I’ve wanted you for such a long time.’
‘Me, too,’ said Rachel unsteadily, winding her arms around his neck. ‘But we have all the time in the world…’
They made love again, and then took a shower together and made love in the shower. Matt’s soapy hands made a mockery of any attempt Rachel might have made to resist him, and by the time they tumbled back into bed again they were both exhausted.
They must have slept for a couple of hours, because when Rachel opened her eyes Matt was climbing into bed again, a tray containing two mugs of coffee and a thick ham and cheese bread roll in his hands.
‘Hey,’ he said, leaning down to kiss her. ‘You hungry?’
Rachel dimpled. ‘Are you?’
‘I’m always hungry—for you,’ he appended wryly. ‘But we have to satisfy the inner beast as well as the outer one.’
Rachel smiled. ‘Are you a beast?’
‘You’d better believe it,’ he said, setting the tray on his knees. ‘I’m your beast, so you’d better get used to it.’
‘I can’t think of anything I’d like more,’ she murmured, wriggling into a sitting position.
She saw Matt looking at her breasts, but this time she made no attempt to cover herself as she reached for one of the mugs. ‘Mmm, you’re going to love this. Instant coffee!’
‘Sweetheart, I’d drink salt water if it would mean I could be here with you,’ he said huskily. He paused. ‘Did you mean what you said?’
Rachel arched one brow. ‘What did I say?’ she asked, but she knew exactly what he meant. ‘Did you?’
‘When I said I loved you?’ Matt didn’t prevaricate. ‘Yeah, I meant it.’
‘So did I,’ she whispered, her breathing quickening automatically. But when he would have moved the tray aside, she added, ‘May I share your sandwich?’
‘Is that all you want to share?’
‘For now,’ she said teasingly. ‘Do you realise it’s nearly two o’clock?’
‘So what? As you say, we’ve got all the time in the world.’ He broke the roll in half and handed it to her. ‘I make a pretty good sandwich, though I say it myself.’
‘I can vouch for that,’ agreed Rachel, after tasting it. ‘Among other things.’
‘What other things?’
‘Matt!’ She gave him a reproving look. ‘Not now. We have to talk.’ She bit her lip. ‘I have the feeling my—your mother isn’t going to be too happy about this.’
‘Tough.’ Matt was unsympathetic. ‘She’ll get used to it. What about your father? What will he think?’
Rachel took another bite of the roll. She chewed for a moment and then she said, ‘I don’t think he’ll mind at all. He’s only ever wanted my happiness.’
‘I think I’m going to like him.’
‘I hope you do.’ Rachel took a sip of her coffee. ‘I just hope he and Mum can resolve their differences.’
‘Well, that’s their affair.’ Matt pulled a face as he tried his coffee, but he didn’t put it down. ‘I guess it was hard for your father when Sara insisted on keeping in touch with me.’
‘Yes.’ Rachel nodded. ‘Particularly as he suspected your father still cared about her.’
‘Oh, God!’ Matt laughed now. ‘Well, I can certainly reassure him on that score. No one regretted the incident with Sara more than Jacob. Oh, don’t get me wrong. He never hesitated when it came to taking responsibility for what had happened. And when I was born he’d have moved heaven and earth to gain custody of his son—me. The fact that Sara didn’t want to keep the baby made everything so much simpler.’
‘So how did you feel when Sara started visiting you?’
‘Honestly?’ Matt grimaced. ‘Weird.’ He paused. ‘I met her in New York the first time. She’d found out I was going to Princeton, and I guess she regarded that as neutral ground.’ He shook his head. ‘But, man, although I knew Diana wasn’t my mother, she’d always been there. Sara was a stranger to me. And when she started criticising my father I didn’t like that much either.’
‘You must have got quite shock when she turned up on St Antoine.’
‘You’d better believe it.’ Matt put his coffee on the bedside table and relaxed back on his elbows. ‘I’d honestly never thought she’d come there. She knew how Jacob felt about her. It was really bad taste, particularly as he’d been ill and wasn’t really equipped to deal with her.’
‘She stayed with you, didn’t she?’
‘Yeah.’ Matt gave Rachel a rueful grin. ‘I mean, I didn’t want her there, but she couldn’t stay at Jaracoba, and I didn’t particularly want her talking about our relationship at the hotel.’
‘So tell me about your house,’ said Rachel, deciding they’d said enough about Sara for the time being. ‘Is it on the ocean, as—as my mother said?’
‘Mmm.’ Matt nodded. ‘But you’ll see it soon enough.’
‘Will I?’
‘I hope so.’ He was solemn now. ‘I want you to come back with me.’
‘To St Antoine?’
‘Well, it’s going to be your home,’ said Matt reasonably. ‘I have no intention of leaving you here for Sara to corrupt you again.’
Rachel finished her coffee and put it back on the tray. ‘She didn’t actually corrupt me,’ she ventured, but Matt was having none of it.
‘She let you think you’d been having a relationship with your own brother,’ he retorted grimly, turning to imprison her beneath him. ‘I think that qualifies.’
Rachel lifted a hand to stroke back the tousled hair from his forehead. ‘I’m so glad you’re not my brother.’
Matt groaned. ‘Don’t even think about it.’
‘But I don’t know if I can come back with you,’ she said reluctantly. ‘I have a job. Responsibilities.’
‘I’ll find you a job on St Antoine.’ Matt grinned. ‘You can help my father write his memoir.’
‘Oh, Matt…’
‘Do you want to come?’
‘Need you ask?’
‘Okay. Just leave it to me, then. After what I’ve been through these last few weeks, handling your boss will be child’s play.’
Rachel sighed. ‘You make it sound so easy.’
‘It is easy.’ Matt pushed himself up onto his knees. ‘Now, there’s only one other thing I need to ask you…’
Epilogue
THEY were married at the small church in St Antoine three months later.
Matt would have had the ceremony the week after they returned to the island. But Diana, who was organising the event, said she needed more time to ensure that Rachel had a day to remember.
‘And me?’ Matt had said, and Diana had given him a playful smile.
‘I think all your days are going to be days to remember from now on,’ she said lightly. ‘Now, go and tell your father his lunch is ready.’
Rachel loved Matt’s house as soon as she saw it. Unlike Jaracoba, it was a sprawling beach bungalow, with over a dozen reception rooms and half a dozen bedrooms besides. There was a fully equipped gym, and a pool, and it was only yards from Mango Cove, where Matt had taken her on her first morning on the island.
‘I wanted to show you my house then,’ he confessed. ‘But, apart from the fact that Sara was there, you didn’t exactly encourage me to pursue a relationship.’
‘And did you want to?’
‘Oh, yeah.’ Matt was very definite about that. ‘I knew I wanted you the moment I saw you. But I’ve already told you that. Stop fishing.’
‘And I didn’t know it, but I wanted you, too,’ admitted Rachel shyly. ‘What a fool I was.’
‘Well, you’re my fool now,’ teased Matt, earning a playful slap. ‘And I love you, little fool. For ever and a day.’
The wedding was a huge success. Rachel wore a cream moiré gown, with an overskirt and train of pearl-studded silk. She carried a bouquet of roses and baby’s breath, with Matt’s engagement ring—an exquisite diamond solitaire—her only jewellery.
Matt, in a black tuxedo, looked big and dark and handsome, and when he placed his wedding ring on her finger Rachel was the envy of every woman present.
Rachel’s parents attended the wedding. They stayed at the hotel, and, although they were not exactly reconciled, they were not exactly estranged either. Aunt Laura was there, to give the happy couple her endorsement, and all in all Rachel thought the day was everything she could have wished for.
She and Matt spent an idyllic honeymoon in Italy, and then returned home in time for the hurricane season.
‘I told you not all days were lovely on St Antoine,’ Matt said one morning, waking to find his wife seated on the windowseat of their bedroom, watching torrential rain falling past the windows.
‘Uh, no, that was Amalie,’ retorted Rachel, smiling as her husband got out of bed and came to join her. ‘But, anyway, I don’t mind the rain. So long as it doesn’t last too long.’
‘It won’t.’ Matt seated himself behind her and drew her back into his embrace. He was naked, and she felt his morning erection nudging her bottom. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Better since I threw up,’ she admitted ruefully. ‘Did I wake you?’
‘No,’ he lied, but she knew he was aware of every aspect of her pregnancy.
He’d already expressed the opinion that they should have waited, that he didn’t want to share her with anyone else.But Rachel knew what he was really worried about was the fact that her biological mother had died just after giving her birth.
‘I’ll be fine, you know,’ she murmured, tipping her head back against his shoulder. Her hands curved over the slight swell of her stomach. ‘Besides, I want your baby. I want to feel it growing inside me. To know that he or she is the ultimate proof of how much I love you.’
‘I know.’
Matt bent to caress her shoulder with his lips. He wasn’t convinced, and she knew it, but she also knew he’d do anything to make her happy—and if that meant lying about his own fears so be it.
In fact, their child was born just six months later, in the bedroom they used when they stayed at Jaracoba. Matt had wanted Rachel to have the baby in the hospital in town, but the doctor had agreed that in the circumstances there was no reason why she shouldn’t have the baby where she chose. And having Jacob and Diana around was definitely a bonus.
In consequence, Matt was the first to hold their son when he came, kicking and screaming, into the world.
‘A lusty infant,’ declared the doctor admiringly, and Rachel, who had insisted on having the baby by natural means, gave him a tired but triumphant smile.
‘Like his father,’ she said softly, earning a look that promised retribution later from her husband.
‘He’s beautiful,’ she said, when Matt came to lay their child in her arms. ‘Isn’t he?’
‘Like his mother,’ agreed Matt, perching on the bed beside her. He bent to kiss her flushed face. ‘Did I tell you I love you?’
‘Not for the past couple of hours,’ she murmured, feeling his arm slipping around her. ‘Hmm, shall we call him Jacob, after your father?’
‘Jake,’ said Matt, shortening it. ‘Yeah. Jake Brody. I like it.’
Jacob Brody was thrilled to hear they were going to call the baby after him. He and Diana would make perfect grandparents, and even Sara and Ralph appeared at the baby’s christening.
‘Do you think we brought those two together again?’ asked Matt, as he and Rachel strolled on the beach at Mango Cove after the celebrations were over.
‘Well, they brought us together,’ murmured Rachel softly. ‘And that’s the most important thing, don’t you think?’
And Matt agreed.
All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II B.V./S.à.r.l. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.
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First published in Great Britain 2010
Harlequin Mills & Boon Limited,
Eton House, 18–24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
© Anne Mather 2010
ISBN: 978-1-4089-1951-4
