Although the trip back to Mosman was no great distance from Paddington, and the traffic on the Harbour Bridge more or less moving freely, she still felt as if they were crossing the entire continent.
She was intensely aware of him beside her, his long-fingered hands on the steering wheel, his midnight-blue gaze fixed on the road ahead. She could see the bunching of muscles in his left thigh as he shifted the gears and had to fight with herself not to reach out and run her fingers along the hard length of his leg.
She tightened her hands in her lap and stared fixedly ahead, wondering if he could sense her anticipation. She knew he was going to make love to her, knew it with every pulsing nerve in her body. She could even feel her body prepare itself intimately and squeezed her thighs together, her heart doing a funny little skip in her chest as she thought about how he would soon reach for her.
The sensor lights came on as they drove into the driveway and she forced her breathing under some semblance of control. She watched as Xavier came around the front of the car to open her door, an action she had in the past berated him for, claiming herself perfectly able to open a door for herself.
Where were all her ideals now?
The door opened under his hand and she eased herself out with as much grace as she could, considering the jellylike state of her legs.
The garage was spacious but because she’d parked her car crookedly earlier she found herself far too close to his body as she straightened.
He leaned past her to close her door, bringing his chest into contact with hers in a brief but burning brush of flesh on flesh.
His eyes met hers in the dim lighting.
She felt her indrawn breath stall somewhere in her throat as he leaned her back against the car, the cold metal at her back in sharp contrast to his body’s warmth at her front from chest to thigh.
His mouth came down and claimed hers in a kiss that spoke of his urgent need, the same urgent need his lower body was making more than clear where it probed against her.
She felt the unfolding of his tongue against hers, the slight grazing movement stirring her into a frenzy of passionate yearning for more of his touch. Her flesh was tingling where his hardness imprinted her softness, the swell of their child between them only intensifying the need to get even closer.
His mouth became even hungrier and demanding upon hers, his hands moving from where he’d been leaning them against the car to slide up her arms and then to where her breasts lay aching for his possession.
The thin fabric of her dress was shifted aside to give him access to the pointed bud of her nipple, his warm tongue moving over its engorged peak in a caress of such intoxicating pleasure a whimpering cry burst from her lips before she could control it.
He moved to her other breast, the sweep of his tongue sending her senses into a tailspin, her brain emptying of everything but the need for him to possess her totally.
Her hands went to his belt but he stalled the movements of her frantic fingers with one large hand.
‘No.’ His breathing was ragged. ‘Not here. Let’s go upstairs.’
She wanted him now, right here and now before he changed his mind.
She unpeeled his fingers from over hers and attacked his buckle once more, this time succeeding. She heard his sharply indrawn breath as her fingers slid beneath the straining fabric of his under-shorts, a little smile playing about her mouth when his fullness was released into her hand.
‘You’re one determined woman, do you know that?’ he growled down at her playfully.
‘You’d better believe it.’ She moved her hand in slow motion, glorying in the tortured pleasure playing out on his features as he fought with himself to keep control.
He sucked in another breath and, pushing her hand away, leaned her back against the car, his hand searching for the hem of her dress.
She felt the brush of his hand along her thigh as he slid her panties away, and her breathing hastened almost painfully as his hands gripped her hips to position her for his entry.
The smooth, hard glide of his body within hers sent all the breath out of her lungs in a harsh sigh of relief. This was where she wanted him!
She could tell he was trying to restrain himself but she wouldn’t let him drop his pace, clutching at him, her fingers digging into the tautness of his buttocks to bring him even deeper into her silky warmth.
She heard him mutter a short, sharp swear word before he finally caved in with a great surging movement that arched her back hard against the car. His deep thrusts brought her closer and closer to the highest point of pleasure, all of her sensitive nerves tightening in preparation for the final fling into paradise. She sensed his own need for release gathering behind his stronghold like flood waters behind a sandbank; within a few seconds all would be released in a great wash of feeling, sweeping both of them away on its raging tide.
She felt the first ripple and gasped as the second came hard on its heels, plunging her over the edge of reason into the swirling vortex of rapture, the aftershocks of her pleasure causing him to finally lose control.
She felt the exultation of his release both inside and out, her flesh shivering in vicarious delight at the sound of his deep, agonised groans as he sank against her in ecstasy.
She didn’t want to move.
She wanted to hold him within her, to feel his warmth, the stickiness of his life force anointing her like a sacred balm.
Words of love hovered on her tongue, but before she could even rehearse them mentally he stepped away from her, his action releasing her bunched-up dress, its soft folds skimming over her still sensitive skin as the fabric fell in a silky silence around her knees.
He readjusted his clothing with the sort of casual ease she envied, particularly as her panties were still on the floor at her feet.
As if he had read her mind he bent and scooped them up and handed them to her. ‘Yours, I believe?’
She took them and scrunched them into a ball in her hand, her eyes skittering away from his, for once unable to think of a single thing to say.
She felt rather than saw him smile.
‘Don’t look so ashamed, Carli; you were supposed to enjoy yourself.’
A flash of resentment lit her gaze as it collided with his. How like him to cheapen what they’d shared as if it meant nothing to him.
‘I hope you, too, were suitably entertained?’ she returned.
‘Everything about you entertains me, Carli,’ he said, ‘absolutely everything.’
‘Glad to be of service.’ She made to brush past but he stuck out an arm like a crossing barrier, blocking her exit.
‘Whoa there, sweetheart.’ He turned her back to face him. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Nothing.’ She tried to release herself but his hold remained firm.
‘You’re shutting me out again.’
‘I’m shutting you out?’ She gave him a heated glare. ‘Haven’t you got that around the wrong way? You’re the one who trivialises it every time we…we…’
‘Make love,’ he filled in for her, letting go of her arm.
‘Have sex. We have sex, Xavier.’ She dusted off her arm as if he’d contaminated it. ‘We do not make love.’
‘Sex, then; I’m not all that particular over the terms.’
‘And I suppose you’re not all that particular over your partners either,’ she shot back.
‘I don’t know about that, and as for trivialising what we share that’s only because even after all this time I still don’t know what the hell to do about you.’
She opened and closed her mouth on the stinging retort she’d prepared, his wry confession throwing her off course.
‘The truth is, Carli,’ he continued heavily, ‘I don’t think I can handle this…arrangement we have too much longer.’
Carli felt her stomach roll over in panic.
He wanted out.
In spite of the baby she carried he wanted to get out of her life—for good.
No wonder h
e hadn’t insisted on their remarrying.
‘If you remember, I never wanted this “arrangement” in the first place,’ she said, carefully avoiding his eyes.
‘I know and that’s what eats at me the most. I forced you back into my life in more ways than one, and now I have to live with the consequences.’
She stole a look at his expression but had to accede he was too damn good at keeping his cards close to his chest. No wonder he’d built the reputation he had legally. No one, but no one, could read him.
‘Maybe we need some time out,’ she said with the sort of emotional detachment she’d heard him use countless times. ‘I could stay with Eliza; help her get on her feet for a couple of days.’
He frowned and opened his mouth to tell her no, but she’d already moved beyond his reach, her staccato footsteps as she made her way towards the house echoing through the still air of the summer evening.
He turned and snapped off the garage light with a savage movement of his hand, the sudden darkness reminding him of the last five years without the love of his life.
He heard the front door open as she entered the house but still he didn’t move.
He stared at his car parked far too close to hers and sighed, the rush of air almost painful as it passed through his chest.
He still loved her.
There, he’d said it. Admitted it to himself at last.
When had he not loved her? Who had he been kidding? Hadn’t the past five years taught him anything?
Without her he was only half alive. Going to the conference had taught him that. As soon as he’d seen her he’d gone into overdrive emotionally, his only choice at the time to shut down in case he inadvertently revealed his feelings. The only trouble was his feelings had found another outlet. He’d virtually poured himself into her, making her pregnant in the process.
Maybe he’d done it subconsciously, his body deciding it was time to lay down his genes with the partner of his choice in an action described by scientists as purely instinctive.
The only trouble was his instincts told him she was unhappy. She hadn’t wanted children in the first place. How could she possibly be happy now, carrying his child?
She’d left him five years ago, insisting on an immediate divorce. She’d walked away from him and never looked back, except perhaps in anger.
Yes, he’d been selfish career-wise but that too had been more or less instinctive, not that it was any sort of excuse, but the patterns of his family had been set down just as immutably as hers, although it was a great pity it had taken him this long to see it. Running the family law firm had been bred into his blood and, like his father and grandfather before him, he thrived on the pressure. Carli had got caught in the crossfire of his push for a place in the legal world but he hadn’t realised it until it was too late.
He turned to look at the house, the lights inside like golden eyes looking back over the past.
He still remembered the sound of her happy laughter as he’d carried her over the threshold that first time, and the way her arms had linked around his neck as if she was never going to let go.
Her caramel-brown eyes had shone with love for him then, but within a year instead of love he’d begun to see them flash with anger instead. The arms that had held him close had begun to push him away, the words of her affection had turned to vitriolic exchanges, most of which he’d managed to sort out in bed, but towards the end even that hadn’t worked.
He still found it painful to recall that last argument. Anger wasn’t an emotion he’d seen demonstrated all that often during his childhood. His mother’s occasional stiff silences and his father’s cold, disapproving moods had been the only clues to the Knightly family boat rocking slightly as it steered a steady course towards greater and greater prosperity. He really hadn’t had any idea of how to deal with flung vases, irrespective of their market value. Carli’s outbursts had been disquieting to say the least.
They still were.
He could hardly blame her for being angry now. He’d railroaded her into his life with his usual heavy-handedness, not stopping to think of what she wanted or needed. She needed independence but how was he helping her by tying her to him in such a way? He had to show her he wanted what was best for her…even if it was the very worst for him…
She was packing her things with the sort of quiet determination that unsettled him even more than her fiery temper.
‘Can I do anything to help?’ he asked, leaning against the door jamb in what he hoped was a casual and unaffected pose.
She folded a garment roughly and stuffed it into the bag on the bed. ‘No, I’ve just about got it covered.’ She snapped the bag shut and turned to face him. ‘I’m only taking the bare essentials tonight.’
He picked up the bag from the bed. ‘How long will you stay with Eliza?’
She gave a noncommittal shrug as she slung her handbag over her shoulder. ‘I’m not sure…a day or two…maybe a week. I’ll see how it goes.’ She scooped up some cosmetics off the dresser and stuffed them into a carrier bag.
‘Carli…’
She sidestepped him to retrieve a bangle she’d left hanging on one of the dressing-table drawer knobs and shoved it over her hand.
‘Let’s not go over the gory details of our relationship just now, Xavier,’ she tossed at him without looking at him directly. ‘I just couldn’t bear it. I need some breathing space—we both do. Besides, Eliza and the kids could do with some company right now.’
He wanted to say he needed her company, needed it more than anything, but something told him her mood was not particularly receptive at present. Her body language was screaming at him to keep back, and her eyes in particular were deliberately avoiding his.
‘As you wish,’ he said stiffly and reached to hold the bedroom door for her to pass through, his dark eyes following her movements as she brushed past.
He carried her bag downstairs and, after placing it in the car, watched as she slipped behind the wheel, flicking him a quick glance from beneath her curtain of hair as she gunned the engine.
‘I’ll call you,’ she said, tucking a chestnut lock behind one ear.
He stepped away from the car, thrusting both hands in his pockets to stop them from reaching in and snatching the keys out of the ignition.
‘You know where to find me.’ He stripped his tone of all emotion.
She didn’t answer other than to reverse out of his garage, which seemed to him to be an answer in itself.
Her car hit the kerb with an ignominious bump and rattled off down the street as he stood like one of his priceless marble statues, his frozen gaze following her departure.
Carli could barely see for tears. She didn’t stop to brush them away from her eyes until she was well clear of the house. She didn’t want Xavier to think she was cut up about leaving him for a few days; her battered pride would just not allow it.
She turned the corner and a huge sob escaped closely followed by another. She allowed herself half the journey to Eliza’s house to cry, but at the halfway point she dragged herself together with a mammoth effort and by the time she pulled into her friend’s driveway her eyes, though red, were now dry.
‘What the hell are you doing here at this time of night?’ Eliza asked as she opened the door to see Carli standing on the doorstep, bag in hand.
‘I thought you might need some company.’
‘Has Xavier kicked you out?’
‘No…I just felt we needed some breathing space for a few days.’
Eliza took her bag and kicked the door shut with her foot as she ushered her in. ‘Well, I won’t tell you I told you so.’
‘Thanks, I’d really appreciate it.’
‘You look exhausted,’ Eliza said. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’
Carli gave her a watery smile. ‘I’d like to go to bed; do you mind?’
‘Of course I don’t mind,’ Eliza said. ‘But just answer this: does this mean you’re thinking about re-subscribing to the
all-men-are-a-complete-waste-of-time club?’
‘No…not exactly.’
‘Did you have some sort of showdown with Xavier?’
‘No…not really.’
‘Then why did you leave his house?’
Carli sank to the nearest chair with a deep sigh. ‘I haven’t really left. I’m just having some time out.’
‘Was he getting too hot to handle?’ Eliza guessed with the sort of astuteness only a long-term friend could have.
‘A bit…’ Carli’s gaze slipped away from the close scrutiny of her friend.
Eliza gave her a long and thoughtful look.
‘Have you told him how you feel about him?’
Carli shook her head. ‘What would be the point? He’d feel even more pressured into a relationship; the pregnancy has been bad enough.’
‘You do want this baby, don’t you?’
Carli swung her gaze back to her friend’s questioning one. ‘Of course I do!’
‘You’ve really changed your tack, haven’t you, my girl? Where’s Ms Career-Comes-First-No-Kids-No-Ties etcetera?’
Carli’s shoulders slumped. ‘She’s long gone; in fact, I wonder if she really existed in the first place.’ She examined her hands in her lap and continued, ‘To tell you the truth, I can’t bear the thought of going back to work next week.’
‘Hasn’t anyone ever told you that millions of people feel like that every single Monday morning?’
‘Yes, I suppose you’re right.’ She gave another sad little sigh. ‘I guess I never thought I’d ever crave being a wife and mother more than having a career.’
‘I take it Xavier hasn’t offered a rerun?’
‘He did the day I told him I was pregnant but…’ Her words trailed away as she thought back to that day. He had practically begged her to remarry him but she had thrown his offer back in his face. The next time the subject had come up he had changed his mind completely, telling her he had no intention of remarrying her. Had he changed his mind or had she changed it for him?
Back In Her Husband's Bed (Bedded By Blackmail) Page 15
