Laura gave an involuntary groan of physical response at his bare-backed torso, just a shadowy outline in the darkness. She had seen him bare-backed before, though. In the summer, when he had stripped off his shirt and ridden Barnabus, without her father’s knowledge. Her memory could easily fill in the details of how he’d looked, his body bronzed, his muscles defined and rippling with every little movement. She watched, heavy-eyed, as he removed his trousers and the boxer shorts that were low slung on his waist, and her smile met his.
‘Enjoying the view?’
Laura sighed with delicious assent and stood up, ready to wriggle out of her jeans. Her body was on fire. Just looking at him was enough to make her breathing shallow and unsteady.
‘Allow me, querida,’ he murmured. It was one of the rare times when he uttered an endearment. He was a man of passion but essentially a controlled man. Outbursts of verbal emotion were not in his nature. No phoney declarations of love for him. Laura appreciated him for that. His tenderness went beyond mundane utterances. Which was why his endearment now made her heart flutter with pleasure. She allowed him to strip off her jumper, her long-sleeved rugby shirt, which had been a legacy from her father’s barnstorming days when he’d played rugby for the county, her tee shirt, leaving only her lacy bra, which barely covered the full swell of her generous breasts.
‘Beautiful. You are exquisite.’ He dipped his finger into the hollow between her breasts and languidly stroked her, mesmerising her with his eyes until her breath caught in her throat. ‘I will never tire of looking at you, touching you.’
Laura laughed softly and caught his finger in her hand, raising it to her mouth so that she could draw it in between her lips, whilst she continued to look at him with her amazing chocolate-brown eyes. With her other hand, she lightly traced the hard muscles of his flattened stomach, down to where his manhood was sheathed with dark, vibrant hair.
‘What, never? Even when you go to university in September to finish your course? And all those young, beautiful girls are there making eyes and flinging themselves at you?’
‘Would you be jealous?’ He slipped his hands down her waist and began easing her jeans off, tucking the tips of his fingers into her briefs as she wriggled out of the jeans and gently kicked them to one side.
‘Oh, absolutely, Gabriel. Which is why I don’t think about it.’ She licked his mouth with her tongue and pushed her body against his. She was only a few inches shorter than he was and their bodies made a perfect match, fitting against each other as though specifically designed for the purpose. ‘I prefer to concentrate on the here and now.’ To prove her point, she drew his hands down to the front of her briefs, wantonly offering him the temptation to explore the honeyed, womanly centre wetly waiting for his expert touch.
‘You’re a witch, Laura.’ Gabriel tugged down her underwear and then unclasped her bra, allowing her full breasts with their rosy peaked nipples to spill forth in all their bountiful glory.
‘Only since I met you.’ And they both knew that that was true. She had come to him as a virgin, driven into his arms by a force of attraction she had never in her life experienced before. The many boys she had laughingly dated in the past had faded into insignificance alongside the potent, raven-haired stranger who had walked into her life and taken it over.
‘Right answer.’ He cupped her breasts with his hands. God, he had meant for this to go oh, so slowly, but with her naked body pressing against his he had to fight to maintain control. When she rubbed against him as she was doing now, he just wanted to take her, to feel her body joined to his in heated, pulsating fulfilment.
He guided her back to the sofa, but when she made to lie down he urged her back up, sitting, so that he could part her legs and kneel between them. The perfect position in which to devote his attention to her perfect breasts. He nuzzled them as Laura flung back her head and made no effort to silence her groans of exquisite pleasure. His tongue played with the tips of her nipples and then his mouth circled first one, then the other, pulling and sucking until she began to buck gently against him with her hands firmly clasped in his hair.
No other man would ever touch her like this. She was his, he thought with a surge of possessive elation.
He placed the flat of his hands against the soft inner flesh of her thighs and, whilst she was still reeling from the effects of his mouth on her sensitised breasts, he began a more intimate exploration that had her writhing and gasping as his tongue found the protruding nub of her femininity.
In between her panting, he could hear the abandoned rawness of her voice as she verbalised her passion and that was a powerful aphrodisiac. With a final flick of his tongue deep into the moist sweetness, he rose up and thrust into her, moving strong and deep until their bodies reached the peak of mutual fulfilment.
Only when they were physically spent did he shift her lengthways onto the sofa so that he could lie beside her. A tight fit but it felt so right with his leg draped over her body.
‘Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could actually fall asleep together, Gabriel? Like this? Spend the night together?’ Laura cradled his head against her breasts and smiled down at him. She swept some of her tangled hair away from her face and continued to watch him as he idly coiled one long, stray tendril around his finger. He held the hair between his fingers and languorously dangled it over her nipple until she giggled.
‘I could come and visit you when you’re at university,’ she carried on dreamily. ‘Your own room. Bliss. Or else you could come and visit me at university. Taking this year off’s been good, but I can’t wait to stretch my wings and leave home.’
‘Edinburgh is a long way to commute from London.’ He touched her nipple with the pad of his thumb and felt her body still under his touch.
‘What are you saying to me, Gabriel?’ Laura jerked his head up so that their eyes met in the semi-darkness. ‘Too far to commute? I know it won’t be like it is now, with you working locally, but we’ll still see each other, won’t we? Fate brought us together. I know that. Why else would you have happened to see that advert for a job all the way up here, with lodgings provided? And why else would you have found your way here, at these stables, to earn some extra money, meeting me in the process? Fate.’
‘Ah, but are you sure you will have time for me?’ he teased. ‘Studying to become a vet is not going to leave you much time for entertaining old…acquaintances…’
Laura caught the wicked gleam in his eyes and breathed a silent sigh of relief.
‘So it’s just as well that you’re not an old acquaintance, isn’t it?’ She allowed herself a little laugh and relaxed back against the sofa.
‘There is another solution, of course, to the problem of meeting up regularly…’
‘Oh, yes. What’s that?’ She ran one foot along the length of his thigh. ‘Have you suddenly discovered a vast sum of money somewhere and bought a helicopter so you can fly up to see me every evening?’
‘Laura, will you marry me?’
It took a few seconds for Laura’s drowsy brain to absorb what he had just said. ‘You’re joking, aren’t you?’
‘I have never been more serious about anything in my life, querida.’
Laura shifted herself into a sitting position and drew her legs up. She desperately wanted to switch the light on so that she could see the expression on his face, but switching on lights was totally out of the question. The office block was not at all visible from the house, but it was still a chance they never took. Instead, she peered at him.
‘Marry you, Gabriel?’ He was deadly serious. His body language conveyed as much.
‘Of course, it would be a bit difficult to start with, but we could find somewhere cheap to rent in London and as soon as we are settled you could re-apply to a London university to do your course. Having to come up here to work and save money has slowed me down a bit, but I have only one year left to complete and then I will be earning money. We won’t go hungry, mi amor, of that you can be certain.’
‘Gabriel…’ Her voice was a low stammer as the implications of marrying him slammed into her like a fist. Her parents would die. Her mother certainly would. She knew that they had viewed her relationship with Gabriel with growing unease, and they probably weren’t even aware that they were lovers. Her mother had shown slightly more fortitude than her father and had contented herself with the occasional observations that she should be careful not to become too emotionally entangled. Her father had been more outspoken. He had told her only two weeks ago in no uncertain terms that he disapproved strongly of what was going on and that he wanted her to end any relationship before it got out of control.
She could feel him pulling away from her and she reached out and gripped his hand tightly. ‘God, Gabriel, I love you so much. I’ve never felt anything like this before. You know that. I’ve told you that a thousand times. More. But…’
‘But…?’ No, this was not going how he’d imagined, not at all. He had expected her immediate, glowing acceptance. Yes, there would be one or two problems, but nothing that could not be handled. Nothing that they could not discuss and solve. His pride began shifting into place. He could feel it closing around him like a vice and he took a few deep breaths to steady himself.
‘I’m only nineteen,’ she said, half pleading. ‘Can’t we just…carry on like this…?’
‘You mean sneaking around your parents’ backs because you’re ashamed to be seen openly with me?’ he accused harshly, and Laura flinched back from the tone of his voice.
‘That’s unfair!’
‘Is it?’ He stood up and began putting on his boxer shorts, his jeans whilst she continued to watch him with a growing sense of panic. ‘It seems to me, Laura, that you don’t object to my presence in your bed, or should I say on this cursed sofa, but you object to it everywhere else in your life!’ Rage had now settled firmly into place. He remembered her father’s burst of laughter at the unimaginable idea that a poor Argentinian might want to marry his daughter and wondered whether it was so far removed from her own refusal. Because refuse she had. No point trying to cover it up in pretty packaging. She had turned him down.
‘Stop it, Gabriel!’ She sprang to her feet, shaking with dismay, and tried to get his hands between hers, but he brushed them aside and carried on getting dressed whilst she stood before him in all her naked splendour. Her vulnerability only occurred to her when he had slung his tee shirt over him, and then she hurriedly began to follow suit, flinging on her clothes with shaking hands.
‘God, you even still wear your father’s clothes!’
‘He doesn’t wear this! And I only put it on because it’s warm and it was the first thing that came to hand when I left the house tonight! Left the house to meet you!’
‘Yes, under cover of darkness! Would you have been so desperate to come rushing out if I had invited you to dine with me? If you had been forced to tell Mummy and Daddy that you were going on a date with me?’
‘Yes, I would have been just as desperate!’ Her eyes glittered with unshed tears, which she swallowed back. ‘But when have you ever asked me out on a date?’ she flung at him. ‘You come and work and sometimes we ride off together away from the house and we sleep together, but when have you ever asked me to go out to dinner with you?’
‘You know the situation!’ His voice cut through her like a knife and sent a shiver of despair fluttering down her spine. ‘I have always made it clear that every meagre penny I get from the company is ploughed back into my bank account so that I can support myself financially for my last year at university!’
‘I’ve offered to pay!’
‘Accept money from a woman? Never.’
‘Because you’re so damned proud! And you’re letting your pride destroy what we have now!’
‘What we have? We have nothing.’
The silence stretching around them was shattering. Gabriel could hardly look at her. His optimism as he had set off earlier for her house now seemed pathetic and absurd. Even after he had been kicked in the face by her parents, he had still stupidly convinced himself that she would still be his. His wife. He had made the classic mistake of avoiding reality, which was that she was rich and he was poor and never the twain could meet. Whatever flimsy objections she was now trying to come up with.
‘Don’t say that,’ Laura whispered. ‘I love you.’
‘Just not enough to prove it. Just not enough to marry me. Words without action are meaningless.’
‘You make it sound so simple, Gabriel. You love me, therefore do as I say and follow me to the ends of the earth, never mind about hurting anyone along the way.’
He flushed darkly and his mouth tightened into a hard line. ‘It is as simple as you choose to make it.’
‘No, it’s not! It’s anything but simple! What about my university degree?’
‘I told you…’
‘Yes, that I could come to London and somehow it would all be sorted out! And my parents? Do I just walk away from them as well? Why can’t you just…wait? Wait for a few years? My parents would adjust over time…I know they would. I would be able to finish my degree. Perhaps I could start in Edinburgh and arrange a transfer…’ Her voice faltered into silence as she absorbed the hard expression on his face.
‘I made a mistake.’ His mouth curled into a twisted smile that was the death knell on any lingering illusions she might have been nurturing that she could somehow prevent him from walking out of that door and never turning back. ‘I thought I knew you. I realise now that I never did.’
‘You knew me, Gabriel. Better than anyone has ever known me,’ Laura intoned dully. One errant tear slipped out of the corner of her eye and she let it trickle down the side of her face.
‘Oh, I don’t think so, querida.’ The endearment that had filled her with joy only an hour before was now uttered with sneering cynicism. ‘It’s time for you to get back to the playground you know best. You will go to university and be the golden girl your mummy and daddy have trained you to be and then, in time, you will marry someone they approve of and live happily ever after.’
He turned away and began walking towards the door and that snapped her out of her daze and she rushed behind him, past him so that she could position herself in front, blocking his way out.
‘Don’t do this!’
‘Get out of my way.’ There was a grim determination in his voice but Laura stood her ground, refusing to watch him leave even though her head was screaming at her that it was all over and that there was nothing she could do to make him stay.
It flew through her head that she could agree to marry him. Marry him and crash headlong into her parents’ disappointment and anger. Toss aside her aspirations and follow him, as he wanted, to the ends of the earth. But the moment was lost when she realised, knowing it to be a fact, that he would never accept her now. All those little indications of his pride that she had glimpsed over the months had solidified into something she could not breach.
She felt an anger rise inside her suddenly. ‘If you loved me, you would wait for me.’
He reached out and pulled the door open from behind her and, tall though she was, she was not half as powerful as he was. He opened it easily, sending her skittering out of his path.
‘It can’t end like this,’ Laura cried desperately. Her flash of self-righteous anger had lasted but a second before disappearing in a puff of smoke. ‘Tell me that we’ll meet again.’
He paused and looked at her then. ‘You should hope, querida, that we never do…’
CHAPTER TWO
THIS was Gabriel Greppi’s favourite time of the day. Six-thirty in the morning, sitting in the back seat of his Jaguar whilst his driver covered the forty-minute drive into London, allowing him the relative peace and sanity to peruse the newspapers at his leisure. From behind the tinted windows of the car, he could casually look out at the world without the world casually looking back at him.
Sometimes, in the quiet tranquillity of the car, he would occasio
nally reflect that the price he had paid for his swift and monumental rise to prominence had been a steep one. But such moments of reflection never lasted long. His days of idle, pointless introspection were long over and they belonged to a place he would never again revisit.
He picked up the Financial Times and began scouring it, his dark eyes frowning in concentration as he rapidly scanned the daily updates on companies and their fortunes. This was his life blood. Companies that had suffered under mismanagement, inefficiency or just plain bad luck were his playground and his talents for spotting the golden nugget amidst the dross were legendary.
He almost missed the tiny report slipped towards the back section. Four meagre square inches of newsprint that had him narrowing his eyes as he re-read every word written about the collapsing fortune of a certain riding stables nestling in the Warwickshire equestrian territory.
No, not a man for idle introspection, but this slither of introspection galloping towards him made his hard mouth curve into a smile. He reached forward and tapped on the glass pane separating him from Simon, his driver.
‘You can take the scenic route today, Simon,’ he said.
‘Of course, sir.’ Obligingly, Simon took the next turning from the motorway and began manoeuvring the byroads that led away from the country mansion in Sunningdale towards the city centre.
Whilst Gabriel relaxed back into the seat, crossed his long legs encased in their perfectly tailored and outrageously expensive handmade trousers, and clasped his hands behind his head.
So the riding stables were on the verge of bankruptcy, pleading for a buyer to rescue them from total and ignominious ruin. He could not have felt more satisfied if a genie had jumped in front of him and informed him that his every wish would come true.
For the first time in seven years he allowed his tightly reined mind to release the memories lurking like demons behind a door.
Laura. He stared through the window at the lush countryside gliding past them and lost himself in contemplation of the only woman to have brought him to his knees. The smell of the stables and the horses. Glorious beasts rising up in the misty twilight as they were led back into the stables. And her. Long white-blonde hair, her strong, supple body, the way she laughed, tossing her head back like one of her adored animals. The way she moved under his touch, moaning and melting, driving him crazy. The way she had finally rejected him.
Millionaire's Revenge Page 2
