by Anne Oliver
A limousine picked them up and whisked them to the city centre. They stopped in front of a tall round building and stepped out onto George Street, thronged with tourists out on a Saturday night. The lobby sparkled with lights and black granite. Ellie had worked in Sydney but she’d stayed in cheap accommodation, not in…this. ‘You own an apartment in this building too?’ she asked as they stepped into the elevator.
‘Yes.’
‘How many places does one guy need?’
He grinned as they shot skyward. ‘I look at them as investments and it beats impersonal and unfamiliar hotel rooms.’
The elevator doors slid open to reveal a small lobby. Matt opened a wide-panelled door and the stunning harbour view greeted them through floor-to-ceiling windows. As she followed him through the spacious apartment she noticed vibrant autumn colours of amber and taupe. A tall arrangement of black lacquered twigs in a vermilion pot stood in one corner. Comfortable couches, the latest in electronic entertainment.
He stopped at a bedroom, setting their bags just inside the door. Her pulse stepped up at the sight of the king-size bed with its dark-chocolate quilt and apricot pillows.
The reason she was here.
The air crackled with sexual awareness but he said, ‘Feel free to make yourself at home. I’ve got some plans to go over before tomorrow morning. I’ll be in my study.’ Business before pleasure.
‘Okay.’ She closed her eyes briefly as he left, feeling way out of her comfort zone. What was she doing? She wasn’t the type of girl who went with a rich man for sex.
She crossed the room to watch the changing colours of the twilight sky. Last night Matt had been just a regular guy in a leather jacket who rode bikes to relax. The guy who’d slipped over in the mud with her. The guy who’d helped her wipe the mess off her kitchen floor when she’d been burgled and looked after her when she was ill.
Here on his own turf, this Matt was someone else. The permanent playboy and businessman, wealthier than she’d ever imagined, more influential than she’d given him credit for. He managed a business empire over two cities. A man way out of her stratosphere.
He was also the man she’d had the steamiest, most sensational sex of her life with.
If she could just concentrate on that and not think about how he was tugging at strings she didn’t want tugged. Making her feel things she didn’t want to feel. Making her vulnerable.
No, no, no. Not vulnerable. In control. Swinging her case onto the bed, she unzipped it with a firm tug and pulled out her one and only black dress. She slid the mirrored wardrobe door open to search for a coat hanger…
A row of after five dresses met her eyes, neatly arranged in colour from black through to white. Her stomach clenched, her fingers went limp. But only for a moment. Had the woman left her designer underwear too? Throwing her own cheap cotton dress on the bed, she flung open cupboard doors, yanked out drawers, rifling through briefs, boxers, socks.
She found an abundant supply of condoms in the top bedside drawer. An overabundance, in her opinion. She slammed the drawer shut. At least he was responsible, but did he have to be such a boy scout about it?
‘Ellie? I heard noises. What are you doing?’
She swivelled her head to see Matt the love rat at the doorway. The way he stared at her, brow furrowed, eyes questioning… Damn it, he made her feel as if she was looking for his hidden stash of cash.
She realised she was holding a pair of black briefs and dropped them back in the drawer. Lifted her hands away from his underwear.
‘The condoms are in the top drawer,’ he said, leaning lazily against the doorjamb. ‘In case you were wondering.’
‘Yes, I know. I was wondering why you’ve asked me here when you’ve clearly got plenty of female company to keep you occupied.’
His gaze followed hers to the open wardrobe and his expression cleared. ‘I forgot to mention them. They’re for you to choose something to wear this evening. I had the boutique from downstairs bring them up, but if the size isn’t right…’ He trailed off at her glare.
‘So my clothes aren’t good enough?’ She felt like three kinds of an idiot, accusing him without cause.
He frowned. ‘You were the one who said you didn’t have anything suitable to wear.’
Oh. Right. ‘I didn’t expect… Look…I’m sorry, okay?’ She waved a vague hand at the jumbled drawers. ‘I don’t need you to—’
‘Just choose something. That purple or the turquoise.’ His voice rumbled, water-smoothed stones beneath a deep-flowing river.
She could almost hear him say, One that comes off easily at the end of the evening. Could see it in the way his eyes seared her skin.
Or maybe he was saying, We can be late.…
All the air left her lungs. She was tempted, so tempted, to walk on over and push his T-shirt up, kiss her way across that firm, hard abdomen and distract him from his work…. ‘Okay,’ she heard herself murmur as if she stood somewhere outside of herself.
He gave her a heated look, but then, just when she thought she’d been right all along, he glanced at his watch. ‘We’ll leave in thirty minutes.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
POISED three hundred metres above Sydney, the scenery from the tower’s restaurant was, as always, spectacular. Matt barely glanced at it, preferring to watch the city lights reflected in Ellie’s eyes. To linger over the way her lips curved when she talked and admire the play of light and shadow over her cleavage in that low-cut turquoise dress.
She was different from other women he’d dated. What she lacked in sophistication she made up for in her enthusiasm. She had an appetite for the sumptuous food on offer, unlike most who picked over the salads and talked about the latest diet fad. Ellie talked about her hopes to set up a landscaping business, a financial struggle the power women in his life would never have to cope with.
She had an in-depth knowledge of environmental issues, natural and herbal remedies and sixties music. She loved her volunteer work with the kids. She loved sci-fi movies but preferred reading fantasy novels and could name every character in Lord of the Rings without missing a beat.
She just kept surprising him.
He let his mega-dollar-a-bottle champagne swirl over his tongue and wondered how many more surprises she had in store while he watched her break her last prawn apart with as much care as he’d seen her tend her coriander seedlings. She popped the seafood in her mouth, then dipped her fingers in the water bowl supplied, wiped each one individually on her napkin. Those small slender fingers fascinated him. He shifted on his chair, remembering the feel of them on his body last night.
And they’d barely scratched the surface, so to speak. His skin heated, his neck prickled, his groin hardened. So much to discover, so little time…
Her eyes lifted to his, warm and liquid and almost black in the light, and he knew without a shadow of doubt that their thoughts were speeding in the same direction.
She continued to watch him with those expressive eyes while she patted her mouth with her napkin. ‘That was wonderful.’
‘The evening’s barely begun.’ He dropped his own napkin on the table. ‘You ready to leave?’
A spark danced across her gaze and her full lips tilted at the edges. ‘I thought you’d never ask.’
‘We didn’t have dessert.’ Ellie’s voice was breathless and hot against his ear as he backed her up against the door to his apartment before the elevator doors had closed behind them.
‘Dessert’s overrated.’ His fingers fumbled the key while he kissed his way down the exposed column of her neck. ‘I have all the sweet temptation I need right in front of me.’ Then the door swung open and they stumbled inside.
He kicked it shut and, grasping her wrists, rolled her with him against the wall. Right here, right now, he gave in to the firestorm which had been raging through him all evening. Beneath his skin and in his blood.
He pinned her hands above her head so he could feel all of her, from mouth to breasts to
thighs and knees. Then he leaned in, grinding his erection against her softness and crushing her mouth with his until they were both delirious and dizzy and drunk on desire.
She tasted of hot wine and hotter woman and something darker, richer, more potent. One hand traced the sinuous length of an arm, from fingertip to palm, elbow to shoulder, pausing where her pulse beat a crazy tattoo at her neck, then down over one breast, to enjoy its firm fullness, loving the way she arched urgently against his palm. He tugged her closer.
All of her. He wanted all of her. Again. And in that moment of stunning contact he forgot caution, forgot that he always maintained a certain emotional distance. He wanted to give her all. Everything. Until they were both spent and neither had anything left to give. ‘What you do to me,’ he managed, between laboured breaths, ‘should be against the law.’
‘So arrest me.’ Her husky voice laced with humour stirred the simmering volcano in his gut to a rolling boil.
His laugh was strained. He drew back a moment to take in the vision before him. With her arms still above her head and against the wall of their own accord, she looked like a siren calling him home. In the light slanting through the windows from the city below, he could see the sheen of desire on her face and arms. Her eyes were open and dazed and full of passion.
His fingers tensed, then twisted into the soft fabric at her waist. Curves and contours, dips and valleys—he found them all. A mess of contradictions, he wanted his hands everywhere at once, yet he wanted to savour each sensation to its fullest.
No time.
Reaching out, she grabbed a handful of his shirt. Buttons popped, he heard a rip, then her hands rushed up and over his chest.
She made a sound—part humour, part apology. ‘I hope that wasn’t your best shirt.’
‘I have more.’ Sweeping her up into his arms, he staggered to the bedroom, his shirt hanging from his arms. Her fast shallow breaths fuelled his own. Impatience, as urgent as if it were the first time, whipped through him.
She reached around to her back, the action thrusting her breasts forward. He heard the rasp of a zipper. His hands slipped beneath the straps and her dress slid off, a whisper of silk on skin beneath his hands. A crackle of electric excitement as the rest of their clothes were stripped away and they tumbled onto the bed together.
No words. Just mindless pleasure, mutual delight. He feasted on her dewy skin, drank the honeyed pleasure at her mouth, then on a groan that seemed to come from some uncharted place inside plunged his aching erection into her warm and willing heat.
She arched to meet him as if she’d been waiting a lifetime, clutching at his shoulders, fingernails scraping down his spine. Reaching down between their joined bodies, he touched her sweet spot and watched her eyes turn indigo. ‘Matt…’ Her breath sobbed out. ‘I can’t…’
Catching her plea on his tongue, he touched her again, tracing tiny circles over her slick moisture with his thumb. ‘You can. Now.’ True to his promise, seconds later her body convulsed beneath him, her gasps harsh against his neck as he sent her soaring.
‘Again.’ He raced with her along a dark velvet road which spun up into a never-ending spiral where the air was hot and heavy, filled with the sound of their moans.
They took what they wanted, what they needed, each from the other, flesh straining against flesh, mouths fused, hearts pounding in sync. And then the hot and slippery slide to climax.
Sated and spent, they lay close, touching. Intimate. Explosions of pleasure still shuddered through Ellie’s body. So Matt wasn’t into pillow talk, but he’d let down some of the barriers she’d sensed last night. Like right now as he pulled her close, his hard masculine torso warming her all down her back.
She snuggled against him, not analysing, not anticipating tomorrow or the next day, but content to simply be as sleep closed in around them.
Since Matt had left for his appointments early, Ellie spent a lazy day pleasing herself and playing tourist. Darling Harbour was within easy walking distance so she crossed Pyrmont Bridge, wandered the arcades and sat in the warm winter sun and ate ice-cream. Then she returned to the apartment and spent a couple of hours catching up on sleep in the luxurious bed they’d made love in last night and into the early morning.
Late in the afternoon she couldn’t resist the lure of the spa bath. White marble surrounds, a view over the sparkling aquamarine harbour and coathanger bridge, a range of bathroom products that spoke of Matt’s many hours of indulgence in this room, with or without company.
‘Need your back washed?’
She turned to see Matt with a bowl of strawberries in one hand, a bottle of bubbly and two glasses in the other. He set them down and started unbuttoning his shirt. He looked gloriously masculine, his jaw shadowed with the day’s stubble, his chest hair gleaming darkly in the reddening glow from the sun. His eyes smouldered with intent and her pulse leapt in anticipation. ‘Only my back…?’
He undid his belt, unzipped his trousers, his erection straining against navy-blue boxers, and grinned, teeth gleaming as he pulled a condom from his pocket and held it aloft. ‘Whatever you want, I’m a slave to your desires.’
Her love slave. She couldn’t help the smile as she sank back against the cool side of the bath and watched him strip away the final barriers. ‘In that case…’
Afterwards, she reclined against his body while he fed her strawberries. The water lapped at her breasts. ‘This is true decadence.’
He dropped a handful of bubbles onto her shoulder, smoothed it all the way down her arm. ‘Enjoy it—we’re leaving tomorrow morning.’
She couldn’t deny the stab of disappointment. ‘You finished everything here, then?’
‘Yes.’ Water sloshed and she felt him move as he set his glass on the tiles with a chink. She thought he hesitated before saying, ‘Ellie, I’ve got a function tomorrow night at the Melbourne office. A winter solstice party. Fancy dress. Come with me.’
Her pulse skipped a happy beat, but only one. A private fling with him was one thing, being seen together in the very public arena of his place of work and amongst his colleagues was something else. That he’d asked her was another surprise and one that had her heartbeat stepping up a notch. What did it mean for her? For them?
No. She couldn’t even begin thinking of them as a couple; he’d made it quite clear that’s not what they were. If he was asking her to accompany him, it was because they were having a fling and he needed a partner for the evening.
But her heart squeezed tight beneath her breast. Oh, how easy it would be to step into those glass slippers and play the princess, just once. But the magic wouldn’t last and no prince was going to come searching for her in the cold light of morning, least of all someone like Matt. Apart from great sex the man might as well be from another planet for all they had in common.
‘Ellie?’ His scratchy jaw rasped against her neck; his hands slipped beneath her armpits to play with her nipples. ‘You’re thinking too hard. Don’t analyse it, just say yes.’
‘Thanks, but I don’t think so.’
His fingers stilled. Obviously he wasn’t accustomed to being turned down. ‘It’s a charity fundraiser,’ he continued. ‘Right up your alley. Yasmine will be there. She’s loads of fun and I know you’ll like her. She’s organising my costume. I’ll get her to organise something and contact you.’
‘Thanks, but no.’ Ellie the gardener didn’t want to talk to the tall, stunning Yasmine with the long sleek hair and high-profile job. ‘I’m not into office parties. I’d just feel out of place.’
‘Out of place? Why? Other people are bringing their partners.’
‘Come on, Matt, you know what I’m talking about. We’re not “partners”. You and me—we’re just two people having sex.’
‘We’re—’
‘And we both know we’re on different sides of Belle’s upscale wrought-iron-and-concrete fence.’
He was silent for a long time. Then he said, ‘You think that makes a difference
to me?’ She could feel his frown at the back of her head.
‘Maybe not, but it makes a difference to me.’ She shrugged, not allowing herself to look at the luxury surrounding her, not letting Matt’s words seep into her consciousness and—worse, much worse—into her heart.
‘Only because you let it. Who skewed your thinking, Ellie?’
‘A guy I knew once.’ She hadn’t realised she’d spoken aloud until she felt his lips touch the back of her neck. ‘And he didn’t skew my thinking. He opened my eyes to the hard, real world.’
‘A lover?’
‘Heath.’ She avoided the label. ‘His name was Heath.’
‘Where did you meet him?’
‘I was working in a nursery-cum-florist-shop in Adelaide. He was from a wealthy family, on a working holiday from the UK, and came in to place an overseas order. We got talking. Next morning the biggest bunch of roses appeared on the counter with my name on it.
‘He treated me like a princess, promised me the world all wrapped up and tied with a big red bow. Weeks later he moved in with me, even though I knew he thought my apartment was the pits, but hey, I was paying the rent, so why not?’
‘He was a scumbag.’
‘I thought so too.’ After he’d ripped out my heart and left me behind. ‘Especially when I learned he already had a fiancée back home—they were getting married in London the following month. I should have guessed when he placed that first order but I trusted him and it was so nice having someone in my life again.’ To love and be loved. ‘But it turned out I was the holiday fling. I saw everything clearly after that. I am who I am, I know my place in the world and I’m comfortable with it.’
‘But not with me, apparently. Ellie, look at me.’ Gripping her shoulders, he turned her to face him, tucking her legs around his muscled torso. ‘Do you see a guy like Heath when you look at me?’
