‘No more, Lucien!’ Thia finally gasped, her fingers digging into his muscled shoulders. Blackness had begun to creep into the edges of her vision and she knew she couldn’t take any more. There was foreplay and then there was hurtling over the edge into unconsciousness. Which was exactly what was going to happen if her body was racked by one more incredible climax! ‘Please, Lucien. I just can’t...’ She looked at him pleadingly as he raised his head to look at her, his cheeks flushed, lips swollen and moist.
‘I’m sorry—I got carried away. Are you okay?’ He gave a shake of his head.
‘Yes...’
‘You just taste so delicious...’ He groaned achingly as he moved up beside her, his hands shaking slightly as he cupped the heat of her cheek. ‘Like the finest, rarest brandy. I just couldn’t stop drinking your sweet essence. Taste yourself, Cyn,’ he encouraged huskily, and brushed his lips lightly against hers.
The taste was sweet and slightly salty, with an underlying musk. Thia’s cheeks blazed with colour at the knowledge that Lucien now knew her body inside and out, more intimately than she did. That he—
She tensed to stillness as the telephone began to ring on the bedside table. Lucien scowled his displeasure and didn’t even glance at the telephone. ‘Ignore it,’ he rasped.
‘But—’
‘Nothing and no one is going to intrude on the two of us being together tonight. I won’t allow it,’ he stated determinedly.
‘But it could be important—’
‘Obviously not,’ he murmured in satisfaction as the telephone fell quiet after the sixth ring, allowing him to reach out and remove the receiver to prevent it from ringing and disturbing them again.
He rolled onto his back, hands firm on Cyn’s hips, and lifted her up and over him. Her thighs now straddled his, and the dampness of her folds pressed against the hardness of his shaft as she sat upright, the swell of her breasts, tipped by strawberry-ripe nipples, peeping through the dark swathe of her hair.
‘Do you have birth control, Cyn?’
‘I didn’t think...’ she groaned. ‘I—no, I don’t.’ Her cheeks were fiery red. ‘Do you?’
Lucien would have preferred there to be nothing between him and Cyn the first time he entered her, but at the same time he liked that her lack of protection indicated she wasn’t involved sexually with any other man right now.
He reached out and opened a drawer on the side table before taking out a silver foil packet and opening it. ‘Would you...?’ he invited huskily.
‘Me?’ Her eyes were wide.
‘Perhaps not.’ Lucien chuckled softly before quickly dealing with it himself. ‘I want to be inside you now, Cyn...’ he said huskily. ‘In fact if I don’t get inside you soon I think I’m going to spontaneously combust.’ He settled her above him. ‘I promise I’ll go slower next time, but for the moment I just need—’
‘Next time...?’ Cyn squeaked.
‘You said earlier that you would stay with me until I had made love to you half a dozen times, remember?’ Lucien gave a hard, satisfied smile.
She gasped. ‘But I—I already—I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve already—’
‘Foreplay doesn’t count,’ he dismissed. ‘When I’m inside you and we climax together—something I’m greatly looking forward to, by the way—that’s when it counts. And I want you so badly this time I’m not going to last,’ he acknowledged.
He knew it was true. His liking for Cyn, his enjoyment of her company as well as her body, had enhanced their lovemaking to a pitch he had never known before...
Thia gasped. All those incredible, mind-blowing climaxes didn’t count? He couldn’t truly think that she was going to be able to repeat this past hour—or however long it had been since Lucien had started making love to her. She had completely lost track of time! If they did she wouldn’t just lose consciousness, she would surely die. And wouldn’t that look great on her headstone—Here lies Cynthia Hammond, dead from too much pleasure!
But what a wonderful way to go...
Emotion—love...?—swelled in Thia’s chest as she looked down at the man sprawled beneath her on the bed. Lucien really was the most gorgeous, sexy man she had ever met—breathtakingly handsome, elegantly muscled and loose-limbed. And he was all hers.
For the moment, that taunting little voice whispered again inside her head.
This moment was all that mattered. Because it was all there was for her and Lucien. They had no tomorrow. No future. Just here and now.
And she wanted it. Wanted Lucien.
She held that silver gaze with her own and eased up on her knees before reaching down between them, fingers light, as she guided his sheathed length to the slickness of her channel—only to freeze in place as she suddenly heard the unexpected sound of Mozart’s Requiem playing!
‘It’s my mobile,’ Lucien explained impatiently when he saw Cyn’s dazed expression. ‘Damn, it!’ His hands slapped down forcefully onto the mattress beside him. He should have turned the damn thing off before making love with Cyn. Should have—
‘You need to answer it, Lucien.’ A frown marred Cyn’s brow. ‘It must be something important for someone to call again so quickly—and on your mobile this time.’
Nothing was more important at this moment than his need to make love with Cyn. Nothing!
‘Lucien...?’ she prompted huskily as his damned mobile just kept on playing Mozart’s Requiem.
Which, in the circumstances, was very apt...
Talk about killing the moment! One interruption was bad enough. Lucien had managed to save the situation the first time, but he doubted he would be able to do so a second time.
A sentiment Cyn obviously echoed as she slid off and away from him, over to the side of the bed, before bending down to pick up the black silk robe from the floor. Her back was long and slender, ivory skin gleaming pale and oh-so-beautiful in the glow of the lamp, before she slipped her arms into the robe, pulling it about herself and then standing up to fasten the belt. She turned to face him.
‘You have to answer the call, Lucien.’ Her gaze remained firmly fixed on his face rather than lower, where he was still hard and wanting.
Oh, yes, there was no doubting he had to answer the call—and whoever was on the other end of it was going to feel the full force of his displeasure!
He slid to the side of the bed before reaching for his denims and taking his mobile out of the pocket to take the call. ‘Steele,’ he rasped harshly.
Thia winced at the coldness of Lucien’s voice, feeling sorry for whoever was on the other end of that line. At the same time she couldn’t help but admire the play of muscles across the broad width of Lucien’s shoulders and back beneath that bronzed skin as he sat on the other side of the bed, his black hair rakishly tousled from her fingers earlier.
Earlier...
Her cheeks warmed as she thought of those earlier intimacies. Lucien’s hands, lips and tongue caressing her, touching her everywhere. Giving pleasure wherever they touched. Taking her to climax again and again.
Her legs trembled just at remembering that pleasure—
‘I’ll be down in five minutes,’ Lucien grated harshly, before abruptly ending the call and standing up decisively to cross the room and collect up the clothes he had taken off earlier, his eyes cold, his expression grimly discouraging.
Thia looked at him dazedly. He seemed almost unaware of her presence. ‘Lucien...?’
He was scowling darkly as he turned to look at her. ‘That was Dex,’ he bit out economically. ‘It appears that your ex-boyfriend is downstairs in Reception and he’s been making a damned exhibition of himself!’
She gasped. ‘Jonathan?’
Lucien nodded sharply. ‘Unless you have any other ex-boyfriends in New York?’
She gave a pained wince at the
harsh anger she heard in his tone. Misdirected anger, in her opinion. ‘I told you—Jonathan was never my boyfriend. And isn’t it more likely he’s making an exhibition of himself in your hotel because you fired him from Network this morning?’
* * *
It was a valid, reasoned argument, Lucien acknowledged impatiently—but at the same time he knew he was just too tense at the moment to be reasoned with. Even by Cyn.
He had enjoyed this evening with her more than he had enjoyed being with a woman for a very long time—if ever. Not just making love to her, but cooking dinner with her, talking freely about everything and nothing, when usually he was careful of how much he revealed about himself to the women he was involved with—a self-defence reflex that simply hadn’t existed with Cyn from the beginning.
And now this.
His mouth thinned with his displeasure. ‘I apologise for being grouchy. I just—’ He ran his hand through the dark thickness of his hair. ‘I’ll get dressed and go down and sort this situation out. I shouldn’t be long. What are you doing...?’ He frowned as Cyn turned towards the bathroom.
‘Getting dressed so that I can come with you.’
‘You aren’t coming downstairs with me.’
‘Oh, but I am,’ she assured him.
‘No—’
‘Yes,’ she bit out firmly, her hands resting on her hips as she raised challenging brows.
Lucien’s nostrils flared. ‘My hotel. My problem.’
‘Your hotel, certainly. But we don’t know yet whose problem it is,’ she insisted stubbornly.
His jaw clenched. ‘Look, Cyn, there are some things about Miller I don’t believe you’re aware of—’
‘What sort of things?’ She looked at him sharply.
‘Things,’ Lucien bit out tersely. This evening had already gone to hell in a handbasket. Cyn did not need to know about all of Jonathan Miller’s behaviour, or the reason the other man had been using her, which was sure to come out if Miller was as belligerent as Dex had said he was. ‘In the circumstances, the best thing you can do is—’
‘Please don’t tell me that the best thing I can do is to stay up here and make coffee, like a good little woman, and wait until the Mighty Hunter returns!’ Her eyes glowed deeply cobalt.
Apart from the good little woman and Mighty Hunter crack, that was exactly what Lucien had been about to say. ‘Well...maybe you could forget the coffee,’ he said dryly.
‘And maybe I can forget the whole scenario—because it isn’t going to happen!’ She thrust her hands into the pockets of his silk robe.
Lucien noted that it was far too big for her; it was wrapped about her almost twice, with the sleeves turned up to the slenderness of her wrists, and the length reached down to her calves—altogether making her look like a little girl trying to play grown-up.
‘Dex has managed to take Miller to a secure room for the moment, but it could get nasty, Cyn.’
‘I’ve been a waitress for six years; believe me, I know how to deal with nasty,’ she assured him dryly.
Lucien was starting to notice that Cyn seemed to use the waitress angle as a defence mechanism. As if in constant reminder to herself, and more probably Lucien, of who and what she was...
Who she was to Lucien was Cynthia Hammond—a beautiful and independent young woman whom he admired and desired.
What she was to Lucien was also Cynthia Hammond—a beautiful and independent young woman whom Lucien admired as well as desired.
The rest, he realised, had become totally unimportant to him—was just background noise and of no consequence.
Not true of Cyn, obviously...
He drew in a deep breath. ‘I would really rather you didn’t do this.’
‘Your opinion is noted.’ She nodded.
‘But ignored?’
‘But ignored.’
‘Fine,’ he bit out between clenched teeth, knowing he couldn’t like Cyn’s independence of spirit on the one hand and then expect her not to do exactly as she pleased on the other. ‘I’ll be leaving in about two minutes. If you aren’t ready—’
‘I’ll be ready.’
She hurried into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.
Lucien drew in several controlling breaths as he glared at that closed bathroom door, knowing that the next few minutes’ conversation with Miller would in all probability put an end to Lucien and Cyn spending the rest of the night together...
CHAPTER NINE
‘MAKING AN EXHIBITION of himself how?’ Thia prompted softly.
Lucien was scowling broodingly where he stood on the other side of the private lift as it descended to the ground floor.
He was once again dressed in those casual denims and black T-shirt, although the heavy darkness of his hair was still tousled—from Thia’s own fingers earlier, and also Lucien’s own now as he ran his hands through it in impatient frustration. Probably because of her stubbornness in insisting on accompanying him downstairs rather than Jonathan’s behaviour, Thia acknowledged ruefully.
Silver eyes glittered through narrowed lids. ‘He came in and demanded to see me. According to Dex, once both the receptionist and the manager had told him I wasn’t available this evening, Miller then decided to start shouting and hurling the potted plants about. When that failed to get him what he wanted he resorted to smashing up the furniture, which was when Security arrived and took charge of the situation.’
‘How...?’
‘Two of them lifted him up and carried him away to a secure room before calling Dex,’ Lucien explained grimly.
Thia winced as she pictured the scene. ‘I can imagine Jonathan might be upset after what happened this morning, but surely this isn’t normal behaviour?’
Lucien gave her an irritated frowning glance. ‘Cyn, have you really not noticed anything different about him since you came to New York?’
Well...she had noticed that Jonathan was more self-absorbed than he’d used to be. That he slept the mornings away and barely spoke when he did emerge, sleepy-eyed and unkempt, from his bedroom. And he had insisted on the two of them attending those awful parties together every night, at which he usually abandoned her shortly after they had arrived. And he had been extremely aggressive at the Carews’ party last night—she had the sore wrist and the bruises on her arms to prove that!
She chewed on her bottom lip. ‘Maybe he’s a little more...into himself than he used to be.’
‘That’s one way of describing it, I suppose.’ Lucien nodded grimly, standing back as the lift came to a halt and allowing her to step out into the marbled hallway first.
Thia eyed him guardedly as she walked along the hallway beside him; Lucien obviously knew which room Jonathan had been secured in. ‘How would you describe it?’
Lucien’s mouth thinned. ‘As the classic behaviour of an addict.’
She drew in a sharp breath as she came to an abrupt halt in the hallway. ‘Are you saying that Jonathan is—that he’s taking drugs?’
‘Amongst other things.’ Lucien scowled.
‘He’s drinking too?’
‘Not that I know of, no.’
‘Then what “other things” are you talking about...?’ Thia felt dazed, disorientated, at Lucien’s revelation about Jonathan. Admittedly Jonathan hadn’t seemed quite himself since she arrived in New York, but she had put that down to reaction to his sudden stardom. It must be difficult coping with being so suddenly thrust into the limelight, finding himself so much in demand, as well as having so many beautiful women throwing themselves at him.
Lucien grimaced. ‘This is not a good time for me to discuss this with you.’
‘It’s exactly the time you should discuss this with me,’ Thia insisted impatiently. ‘Maybe if someone had thought to discuss it with me earlier I might ha
ve been able to talk to him about it—perhaps persuaded him to seek help.’ She gave a shake of her head. ‘As things now stand he’s not only messed up his career, but the rest of his life as well!’
Lucien frowned as he heard the underlying criticism in her tone. ‘Damn it, Cyn, do not turn this around on me. Miller was given a warning about his behaviour weeks ago. In fact he’s been given two warnings.’
‘When, exactly?’
‘The first was two months ago. And again about five weeks ago, when it became obvious he had taken no notice of the first warning. I have a strict no-drugs policy on all contracts,’ he added grimly.
‘What sort of warn—? Did you say five weeks ago...?’ she prompted guardedly.
Lucien quirked dark brows. ‘Mean something to you?’
‘Jonathan visited me in London a month ago...’ She chewed on her bottom lip. ‘I hadn’t seen him for almost three months, and he had only telephoned me a couple of times since he’d left for New York, and then he—he just turned up one weekend.’
Lucien nodded. ‘And subsequently invited you to come and stay with him in New York?’
‘How do you know that?’
He scowled. ‘I just did the math, Cyn.’
‘I don’t understand...’
Lucien didn’t see why he should be the one to explain Miller’s behaviour, either. Cyn already considered him callous for firing Miller. He wasn’t going to be the one to tell her that Miller had only invited her to New York as a cover for his affair with another—married!—woman!
The fact that Cyn was with him now would probably be enough for Miller to realise she must have been with Lucien in his apartment when Dex telephoned a short time ago. Add that to the fact that she was so obviously wearing a man’s oversized T-shirt and Miller was sure to add two and two together and come up with the correct answer of four!
Which was precisely the reason Lucien hadn’t wanted Cyn with him during this confrontation. Well, okay, it wasn’t the whole reason. He really would have preferred it that Cyn stayed in his apartment, made coffee, like the good little woman, and waited for the Mighty Hunter to return. He wanted to protect her from herself, if necessary. As it was, he somehow doubted that Cyn would be returning to his apartment tonight at all...
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