There's Something About a Rebel-

by Anne Oliver

  He tightened his fingers on her face. ‘Ah, Lissa. He’s your brother and he loves you. That’ll never change.’

  ‘I know,’ she whispered, those tears spilling over.

  Lissa covered his hands with hers on her cheeks, wanting to put this conversation away before she lost what was left of her composure. ‘But the bad’s in the past and I just want to move on. In lots of ways you’ve helped me do that. And the best thing you can do for me now is not to mention it again.

  ‘You made me happy, Blake, last night and I hope I did the same for you. I haven’t felt this good in a long long time. And it’s not just the sex. It’s you.’

  ‘Lissa …’

  She could almost hear his alarm bells ringing. ‘It’s okay,’ she said quietly, drawing his hands away. ‘You’ve been a true friend in my hour of need and you’re already a great business partner, but sex does have a way of complicating things and we’ll deal with it. The thing to remember is that you’re not looking for an ongoing relationship and neither am I.’

  Except this was Blake. The man she’d never got completely out of her thoughts. She picked up her coffee, stared into its depths. She wanted what they had for as long as it lasted and her heart was so going to pay for this later, but right now she couldn’t see the thorns for the roses.

  He was silent a moment, then nodded slowly. ‘Let’s take it one step at a time, then.’ Darkly clouded eyes clashed with hers. Not the kind that wept soft rain but clouds that promised a cracking good lightning display, all light and heat and unleashed power.

  ‘The business first,’ he said. ‘We should have a launch party. Get your name out there.’

  ‘A party.’ Taking his cue, she made a concerted effort to shake off the intensity of the last few moments. ‘That’s a brilliant idea. I’ve thought of a name. Lissa’s Interior Design. Gilda—Oh-my-gosh …’

  She grabbed her mobile, checked the time and sprang off the bed, spilling crumbs over the sheet. ‘I arranged to be there in twenty minutes to check with her about the curtains. I’d better shower and get my act together.’ She took a last look at the naked man ogling her bare butt as she slid through the doorway. ‘Thank you, Blake. For every thing.’

  Blake watched the pool’s sunny reflections ripple across the ceiling. He’d been so relaxed last night he’d woken pain free from a dreamless sleep. In a bed that smelled of a warm, sated woman.

  A woman who’d been used by a man in the worst possible way.

  His fists tightened against the mattress. Pond scum. Low-life. He threw back the sheet and stalked to the window where he glared at the sun sparking off the river. Lissa wanted to forget and move on. So he’d not mention it again.

  But he wouldn’t forget.

  He turned from the view and, in an automatic move, picked up his clothes from the floor, folded them and set them on a chair. And what of Blake Everett? Was he any more worthy of someone like her? He was a wanderer. A loner. A lasting relationship for him and someone like Lissa, or anyone else for that matter, was never going to happen. Home and family weren’t in his destiny.

  Lissa, on the other hand, needed that security, that bond of family. If there was one thing he could do for Lissa before he left, it would be to get some open and honest conversation between her and Jared happening again.

  She’d told him she wasn’t looking for an ongoing relationship and he could understand why she might feel that way at present. But given time to heal, that might change.

  Whereas for them … they’d had great sex. Mutually satisfying sex.

  And mutually satisfying sex was all it was. All it could be. He refused to acknowledge anything more. He’d been cruising through life just fine on his own. Okay, his ship-mates were as close as family and navy life offered little privacy, but on shore leave or one of his rare recreational night dives—in the quiet, solitary times he’d found peace. Or close to it.

  Until last month.

  His bare toes connected with the brass bed base and pain ricocheted up his shin and he swore like the sailor he was. Yeah, he thought almost savagely, Lissa, with her sheltered upbringing, knew nothing of the murky depths beneath the surface of his civilian persona. She’d never understand the trauma of watching someone dying before her eyes and to wake up and know there’d been nothing she could have done to stop it.

  And yet she’d offered him comfort when he’d woken downstairs the other night. She’d listened. Really listened. She’d talked—sensibly, with maturity and sensitivity—about post-traumatic stress. He’d been the one to cut off the communication because he still refused to believe that was what he suffered from. Never reveal your weaknesses.

  He stared down at the place where they’d made love. Last night, lying beside her, he’d felt something he’d never experienced. Something warm, something worthwhile, like … trust?

  Jaw tightening, he turned away. No. His father had wanted nothing to do with him. His mother had been trusted to put on a good benefit show, but when it had come to her only son, she’d fallen far short. That innate trust in the love and comfort of family had been wiped clean at an early age.

  He thought of Janine. He’d fallen for her hook, line and sinker. He’d ripped out his scarred heart and laid it at her feet and she’d crushed it beneath her heel with her lies and betrayal.

  So much for trust. He would never lay himself on the line that way for anyone, ever again.

  He stalked to the bathroom and had just switched on the spray when his mobile buzzed on the bedside table. He switched the water off again, swiped a towel from the rail and went to answer it. Jared’s familiar voice caught him off guard.

  ‘Hey. What are you doing up so early?’ Blake turned from the sight of sex-rumpled sheets and one of Lissa’s gold hair ribbons and moved away from the bed. The last person he wanted to talk to with the scent of Lissa on his body was her big brother. ‘What time is it there?’

  ‘A tick before the crack of dawn. Isaac’s an early riser.’ Blake heard a muffled sound then a distant, ‘Hey buddy, put that down, Mummy’ll have my b—Isaac.’ A crash. ‘Never mind, I’ll buy her another one.’ He sounded resigned, then spoke into the phone again. ‘You still there?’

  ‘Still here. Kids, eh?’

  ‘Yeah. Who’d have ‘em?’

  But Blake heard an exuberance of love in his mate’s voice. ‘I bet he’s a firecracker.’

  ‘You got that right.’ There was a hesitation through the phone, then Jared’s voice turned serious. ‘Before I speak to Lissa, I’ve been talking to Soph and we’re wondering if we should cut short our trip and come home.’

  And wouldn’t that throw everything into a spin?

  No mention of the business, Blake noted, and cleared his throat. Damn it. Lissa obviously hadn’t contacted him herself yet. ‘She hasn’t called?’

  ‘No. And her phone’s been switched off for hours.’

  ‘We were at a party till late—’

  ‘You and Liss …?’

  He heard the surprise in his old mate’s voice. ‘Yeah.’ Moving right along. ‘She’s next door at the moment, doing up a quote for a nursery. I’ll get her to call you when she comes back.’

  ‘So she’s getting some work. That’s one good thing I suppose. How’s she taking the boat disaster, do you think?’

  ‘She’s doing okay. Still a little shocked but—’

  ‘Not enough to prevent her from partying obviously.’

  ‘It was a charity thing,’ Blake felt obliged to point out in her defence.

  ‘She wants to start her own business. It concerns me a lot. I don’t think she’s ready for it. Has she mentioned anything about that to you? I guess she’s got enough to think about right now.’

  Blake paced the carpet, feeling as if he were sinking further into quicksand with every step he took. Yet here was an opportunity to get them talking. ‘I’ll let her tell you about it.’

  ‘I was hoping to hear your opinion.’

  Blake really didn’t want to get
into anything serious here after doing the wild thing with her all night. ‘Better coming from her, mate,’ he said, scrubbing a hand down his face. ‘She’ll call as soon as she gets in.’

  ‘Blake … we were buddies a long while. Is there something I should know here?’

  Hell. His grip tightened on the phone. He couldn’t talk about their business arrangement because he’d given his word to Lissa, even though he knew that wasn’t what his mate was asking. ‘She’s an adult, Jared. She makes her own decisions.’

  Silence. ‘What the hell’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Like I said, she’ll tell you herself.’

  ‘So there is something going on.’

  ‘At ease, mate, nothing to be alarmed about.’

  ‘She’s my sister. I don’t want to see her hurt.’ There was an edge to his voice that could slice through steel.

  ‘Nor do I.’

  ‘Tell her to call me via webcam. I want to see how she’s taking this—and whatever else—for myself.’

  ‘No worries. The moment she’s back.’

  Jared disconnected without another word.

  Blake stared at the dead phone. ‘That went well,’ he muttered, and headed back to the bathroom to take his shower.

  He thought about Jared’s concern as he put his room back into some kind of order. Despite her pride in her independence, Lissa was a family girl at heart. She’d probably tire of her party ways eventually and settle down. Marry an easy-going Mr Joe-Average Nice-Guy with no emotional baggage and have two stunning kids, a boisterous dog and a comfortable four-bedroom home overlooking the beach.

  Not for him. It was time to look at purchasing his own boat. Time to get moving, explore all the dives along the coast. Use the stars as his compass and live the dream before it was too late. Wasn’t that what it was all about?

  He collected Lissa’s ribbons and hairpins and took them down the hall, but stopped in her bedroom doorway. Was there a bed somewhere beneath those shopping bags? How did someone who’d just lost everything manage to accumulate such a chaos in a single day?

  The en-suite fared no better. Lotions of every description and bottles with tops off littered the vanity. A wet towel trailed from the basin. He left her ribbons beside her hairbrush and screwed the lid back on the toothpaste. Another reason they’d never work out. He liked his life ordered. He liked his space clear. She’d drive him crazy.

  What they had was just temporary, he assured himself again as he walked away. A fling. She’d drive someone else crazy some day.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  SHE’D drive someone else crazy some day.

  Blake needed something else to take his mind off the persistent and distracting thought rattling around in his head. Problem was, his day’s routine was shot. He’d not had his morning run—he’d been ‘otherwise occupied’. And now the afternoon was slipping away and Lissa was still busy with Gilda. Probably catching up on last night’s success. He needed a diversion.

  Food. He’d cook something for dinner. How long since he’d enjoyed a good home-cooked meal? He checked the pantry supplies, began compiling a list, then stopped. He had no idea what Lissa liked. Still, who’d not enjoy a good old-fashioned Aussie lamb roast? It could cook while he … what?

  Waited for Lissa to come home?

  The scene played before his eyes:

  He’s just put the finishing touches on a complicated dish that took all afternoon to prepare. The leafy salad with a new mustard/pepper dressing is chilling in the fridge along with a bottle of chardonnay. He’s thinking cheese for afters, with a little quince pâté, some grapes … then a leisurely bubble bath and an early night …

  Lissa rushes through the door, her blouse askew, her hair dishevelled from driving the convertible with the top down. Dinner meeting—sorry, did she forget to tell him? She fishes a couple of cherry tomatoes from the salad bowl in the fridge then a peck on his cheek on her way past. Don’t wait up, it’s going to be a long one—some after-dinner function to attend and, oh, would he mind collecting her dry cleaning before the shop closes?

  Blake stumbled back a step, scowling. What the hell had happened to that bubble bath? What—

  ‘I’m back,’ Lissa sang out as she danced into the kitchen, her face glowing, her hair flying behind her. ‘Oh, you should see how the nursery’s coming along.’ She did a quick twirl. ‘It’s going to be stunning. And she loves the colours. And Gilda’s offered to make it a glittering affair with all her rich friends and Stefan’s going to take pictures for the PowerPoint presentation at the launch and everyone will see it. and. Hi.’ She exhaled hugely on the final word and smiled like sunshine.

  Blake blinked, feeling as if he’d just been flattened by a runaway lawnmower. ‘Hi.’ He screwed up his shopping list, tossed it on the sink. She was wearing a lettuce-green sundress with cherries on and tomato sauce spaghetti straps. Damn the roast, he wanted to take her on the nearest available surface and feed on her instead.

  But the domestic role-reversal scene continued to shimmer dangerously before his eyes. Damned if she was going to leave him home alone all night while she got up to … whatever.

  Her smile faded a little. ‘You could sound more enthusiastic, it’s your business too.’

  ‘You’re enthusiastic enough for both of us.’ With an effort, he snapped himself back to the present and the vision of delightedness before him. She was here now, and for now she was all his. He pushed the uneasiness aside. ‘Come here.’

  She stepped unhesitatingly into his embrace with the ease and comfort of a familiar lover, linked her arms around his neck and tilted her head up, her lips a breath away from his. ‘Have you any idea how I feel right now?’

  ‘Yeah.’ He smoothed his hands over her shoulders beneath the straps of her sundress and pressed his mouth against her neck. Impossible not to linger a moment, to feast on that almost translucent skin. ‘Oh, yeah.’ He lifted his head to watch her face as he ran his hands down her sides—the dip of her waist, the flare of her hips beneath skin-scented cotton. ‘You feel incredible. Good enough to eat, in fact.’ Lowering his lips, he rubbed them lightly over hers and tasted the faint bitterness of coffee, the stronger, sweeter hint of vanilla and almonds. He flicked his tongue out, sampled the corner of her mouth where the flavour was more delicate. ‘Gilda’s been feeding you.’

  ‘Mmm.’ She wriggled closer, tightened her hold and her breasts rubbed against his chest. ‘But I’m still hungry.’ She opened her mouth, took his lower lip between her teeth and bit down. ‘So hungry.’ she soothed the tingle with her tongue, then sucked gently ‘.I could eat you too.’

  He lifted her off the floor and she clamped her thighs around his waist, her eyes hot, her rosebud lips parted. His blood thundered in his ears and hammered in his groin.

  ‘Yeah. Who needs a lamb roast?’ he murmured against her mouth as his fingers clenched around her bottom, bringing her intimate heat into contact with his belly.

  His gaze remained fused with hers as he carried her to the kitchen island, set her on the edge of the smooth marble and pushed her thighs apart. Then he braced his hands on the counter top and leaned in while she twisted her fingers in his T-shirt, knuckles white, pressed against his chest.

  Falling into the kiss was like leaping out of a plane and into the clouds. Fast and exhilarating, destination uncertain. And for the moment he didn’t care. The journey was enough.

  The skinny strip of white lace was no barrier—a flick of his wrist, a quick tug and it was gone. Freeing himself, he plunged inside her. He heard her gasp; her eyes were wide and dark as he withdrew slowly. Plunged again. Harder, deeper. Faster.

  He feasted on her sweet taste, swallowed her sighs as she met him beat for beat with an enthusiasm that rivalled his. They gorged on each other with mouths and tongues and teeth, the past forgotten, the future unclear.

  She surrounded him, slick heat and damp, dark desire, the tight liquid tug pulling him towards completion too fast. Way too fast. The noti
on that he was here at last registered vaguely on some distant horizon.

  Then no words, no time, no thought, just a fierce, fast, furious coupling. The need to possess her, a demand to drive reason from her mind so that he was all she knew—all he knew—hammered through his mind in time with his thrusts.

  Lissa had never known such a frenzy of wants and desires, needs and demands. Her hands rushed beneath his T-shirt to find all those hard muscles beneath damp skin. He didn’t try to hold her or pin her down in any way and rational thought fled as she gave herself up to the whirlwind of sensations battering her. And, oh, how liberating to allow herself to be swept along in its wake, knowing she was safe, that she’d found a haven in Blake.

  And somewhere amidst the maelstrom she found the eye of the storm, the calm, her centre.

  She held tight to it as they raced together to the finish.

  Moments later she slid her hands from beneath the soft cotton tee to wrap them around his forearms braced either side of her. Her thighs trembled, her whole body was limp and tiny exquisite aftershocks still shuddered through her body.

  ‘Lissa.’ Breathing heavily, he looked into her eyes and she saw a glimmer of concern. ‘I’ll replace the underwear.’

  If that was all that was bothering him. She opened her mouth to answer and discovered her throat was dry. This new physical facet of their relationship was moving at warp speed and she was still trying to catch up.

  But emotionally, Lissa knew she was light-years ahead. He would not want to know she was falling in love with him.

  ‘Lissa?’ He lifted her chin with a finger, searching her eyes. And she knew he was remembering their earlier conversation about no complications. No ongoing relationship.

  She leaned forward, pressed a quick kiss on his lips. ‘No need. Thanks to you I have a whole new drawer full of undies,’ she assured him, swallowing the ball of emotion that had rolled up her throat. ‘And it was so worth it.’ Sunny but casual. ‘That was … fa-a-a-n-tastic.’ She stretched her arms, let them relax onto his shoulders and smiled. How could she not? She’d just been ravished on a kitchen counter. ‘Did I hear a lamb roast mentioned somewhere?’