She tossed and turned as the minutes continued to tick slowly by. She looked at her watch to note that midnight had become one o’clock and she was as restless as before and so, wrapping one of the velvet throws around herself, she went to the window and gazed outside. And despite everything, she couldn’t hold back the sigh of wonder which escaped from her lips because outside was the most perfect scene she could imagine—like an illustration from a book about winter.
The snow had stopped falling and the moon was huge in the sky, bathing the milky landscape in a bright and silvery light. Against the frosty stillness of the landscape, the tall shapes of the trees rose ghostly and beautiful and for a moment Holly just drank it all in until the dryness in her throat reminded her that she was thirsty. Why hadn’t she thought to bring a drink to bed with her?
She stood very still and listened but could hear nothing and surely Maximo must be fast asleep by now. Carefully opening the door to avoid making any noise, she crept along the corridor, clutching her makeshift cloak around her. The whisper of velvet brushing against the stone steps was the only sound she could hear and quietly she made her way to the kitchen, turning the switch on so that it flooded with light. It was neat and clean, all the debris from dinner tidied away. Maximo had obviously cleared up after she went to bed. He really was independent she thought, scrolling back through those rare memories of her father to realise that not once had he ever lifted a finger to help her mother.
She poured herself a glass of water and thirstily gulped it down before pouring another and switching off the light. And although the castle was dark and very quiet, Hollie wasn’t in the least bit spooked—because the walls felt friendly. She wondered if other women, like her, had wandered these stone corridors in the dead of night and wondered how they were going to cope with an unknown future.
Lost in thought, she had almost reached the end of the passageway when a figure suddenly emerged from the shadows and Hollie jumped. Water arced and splashed against the stone wall and as the glass slipped from her fingers Maximo lunged forward to catch it—cradling the intact vessel in the palm of his hand like a professional cricketer who had just made a sensational catch.
‘You scared the life out of me!’ she accused, aware that his hair was ruffled as if he’d hurriedly dragged his sweater over his head and that the top button of his jeans was undone.
‘I didn’t mean to alarm you. I couldn’t sleep and I heard something moving downstairs, or rather someone, so I threw on some clothes and came down to investigate.’ His shuttered gaze flicked over her. ‘You’d better get back upstairs,’ he added, and suddenly his voice was tinged with harshness. ‘It’s cold.’
Hollie nodded but she didn’t move. She couldn’t move. It was as if she had suddenly forgotten how to use her legs.
‘It’s cold everywhere,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve been awake for hours.’
His eyes narrowed and a look of intense calculation darkened his already shadowed features. He looked as if he were fighting some silent inner battle and when he nodded his head, Hollie couldn’t decide whether he had won, or lost.
‘Maybe we should try and do something about that,’ he said. ‘What do you think?’
His soft question slid over her skin, snaring her with threads of silk. And he was studying her with that absorbed and shadowed gaze, which was making her grow weak. And all the time, raw desire was pulsing around them, like a living being. Hollie felt breathless. Poised on the edge of something—but she didn’t know the rules of this game. She didn’t know how to play. ‘That depends what you had in mind,’ she stumbled.
He smiled. A slow and speculative smile. A smile no sane woman could have resisted. ‘There are any number of options. We could go upstairs and I could lend you another T-shirt. We could see if we can find any more of those velvet wraps you seem so fond of. Or you could share my bed and get warm that way. It’s up to you. It’s your call, Hollie.’
Maybe if he’d asked that same question during daylight hours when he’d made it plain she was an unwelcome guest, then Hollie might have refused. But the darkness had added a strange layer of anonymity, as well as enhancing her already aroused senses. And it was Christmas morning, wasn’t it? A time of magic and secret wishes, when anything could happen. She sensed he wouldn’t judge her if she said yes, because this was a time out of life and she wanted it. She wanted it very badly.
‘Yes, please,’ she said simply.
‘Which?’
‘You know which.’
He made a low growling noise beneath his breath, as if her easy capitulation had pleased him. Then he put the empty glass down on the stone floor, very carefully, and took her in his arms. He brushed her hair from her cheeks, looking down at her for a moment, his gaze crystalline and hard. She’d thought he might kiss her, but he didn’t. Instead, he laced his fingers through hers and led her towards the stairs. It felt very grown-up but...it also felt very disappointing and it wasn’t until they had reached the upstairs floor that Hollie raised her face to his in question. Because hadn’t she secretly been longing for the ultimate castle fantasy of Maximo sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her to his lair?
‘You want to know why I didn’t carry you this time?’ he guessed.
‘Yes.’ Hollie nodded, marvelling at his perception even as she resented it. Just how many women had he carried to his bed over the years? she wondered.
‘Because you’re pregnant,’ he admitted. ‘And I’m terrified of dropping you.’
It was a surprisingly tender admission and Hollie felt her skin grow warm. ‘You’re way too strong to drop me—and I’m not made of glass, Maximo.’
‘I wouldn’t bring up the subject of glass right now if I were you.’
His teasing broke a little of the tension until he stared down at her again, his expression dark and unfathomable, and she could see a pulse beating wildly at his temple. ‘But since we’re on the flat again...’
And this time he did pick her up, striding along the corridor to a room just beyond her own, kicking open the door and giving rampant life to her foolish fantasies. It was a room a little larger than her own and just as sparsely furnished, though the bed was much bigger. But Hollie barely noticed the equally haphazard bedclothes, or the thick paperback which was lying open on the locker. All she could see was the man who was lowering her onto the mattress, his aristocratic features dark and shuttered as he made sure she was covered by a feather-soft eiderdown, before stripping his clothes off.
She lay and watched as he peeled off his shirt, his skin gleaming like living metal in the bright moonlight which streamed in through the windows. She observed the line of black hair which arrowed down from his chest to his navel and as he began to slide the zip down, he lifted his head to slant her the sexiest smile she’d ever seen.
‘Does it turn you on to watch me undress?’ he murmured.
Hollie nodded. She liked that he wasn’t treating her as a novice, which essentially she was. Last time they’d had sex it had all been so new and so incredible—as if she hadn’t been able to believe that someone like Maximo was in bed with someone like her. But while she might be new to all this, even she could acknowledge the undeniable chemistry which burned between them and she was determined to enjoy every second of what came next. She wasn’t going to long for the impossible or wish things had been different. That ship had sailed. She was going to live in the now.
The mattress dipped as he came to lie beside her, taking the baggy hem of the T-shirt she was still wearing and running the tip of his finger over it. ‘You have me at something of a disadvantage,’ he murmured. ‘You’re still wearing this, while I am completely naked.’
‘Surely it’s me that’s at a disadvantage,’ she returned, lifting her arms above her head without being asked so that he could peel off the offending garment and drop it to one side of the bed.
Maximo pulled her into
his arms, brushing aside the thick fall of her silky hair as he pressed his lips into her neck. He hadn’t thought this would happen. God knew, he hadn’t intended for it to happen—but in the end she had proved too much of a temptation and, besides, which of them was he protecting by resisting something they obviously both wanted? Not her, who was so hungry for him that she was writhing against him like a siren, her breath warm and fast against his skin. Nor himself, either. After all, the damage had already been done and she was pregnant. And if that was a cynical way of looking at it, so what?
He began to explore her body, reacquainting himself with her soft curves and delicious flesh, his fingers sliding over her silky skin. He cupped her breasts in his palms, thinking how full they were—much fuller than last time.
Was that because of the baby?
A rush of something he didn’t recognise roared through his blood but deliberately, he blocked it.
He wasn’t going to think about the baby. The only thing he was going to think about was pleasure.
So he concentrated on employing every sensual skill he had learnt, tempering blatant provocation with the tantalising whisper of soft promise. So that while his rock-hard erection was pushing against her belly, he was kissing her eyelids, her cheeks, her neck and her ears, making her wait until finally he allowed his lips to plunder hers. Was it the little cry of bliss she gave which made him feel as if he were drowning? As if she were drawing him into some unknown place of dark, sweet honey.
‘You are...deliciosa.’
‘Delicious?’ she guessed.
‘You are fluent in Spanish now, are you, Hollie?’ But as she opened her mouth to doubtless make some equally flippant reply, he kissed away the answer, reaching down to slide his finger between her silken folds, enjoying her gasped frustration as he brought her to the edge of orgasm, over and over again. Only when he could bear his own exquisite torture no longer did he position himself to enter her at last—though more slowly and carefully than he had ever done before. And didn’t that make him feel...?
What?
He didn’t know and he didn’t care because his thoughts were being scatter-gunned by Hollie clenching hard around him, her back arching like a bow as she spasmed, and then he too was jerking helplessly in her arms.
For a while there was no sound other than their ragged sighs, and then she drifted her lips to his cheek.
‘Maximo,’ she murmured huskily.
‘Don’t move,’ he instructed unsteadily, because already he was growing hard inside her again. ‘Stay exactly where you are.’
‘I have no intention of going anywhere.’
He gave a soft laugh as he began to move and, while the second time was just as amazing, the third almost defied definition, leaving him gloriously sated and replete.
‘I’ve never done it without protection before,’ he observed after a while, lying back against the rumpled bedclothes, his skin warm with satisfaction.
‘So that’s a first?’
‘Well, by my reckoning, it’s actually the second.’
His head tipped back against the pillow as she giggled and he must have slept, because when next he opened his eyes, the bright light of a winter’s morning had replaced the silvery moonlight of the previous night. He lay there for a moment in silence, aware of Hollie’s head on his shoulder—her hair spread out over his chest like satin. He stared down at the twin crescents of her lashes, dark and feathery against her pink cheeks. Her rosy lips were parted, her breathing slow and steady and he felt a twist of something unknown deep inside him.
She was so damned...unexpected.
He swallowed.
She had surprised him the first time around with her innocence and she had surprised him this time by being so gloriously accessible. Her body had opened up with a delicious familiarity. It was as if she instinctively knew what pleased him—as if they had been designed to fit together perfectly.
What was the matter with him? Almost imperceptibly he shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts which had obviously been skewed by the heady cocktail of hormones which were surging through his bloodstream. But the movement must have woken her, because Hollie’s lashes fluttered open and Maximo found himself dazzled by the light shining from her wide grey eyes. He saw a flicker of confusion cross her face, as if she couldn’t quite work out where she was, or who with—and then her lips curved into a smile which only made him want to kiss her.
‘Happy Christmas!’ she said.
‘And to you,’ he said, his swift smile intended to inform her that he hadn’t had a complete personality change during the night. ‘Hollie—’
‘It’s okay,’ she said quickly, before moving away from him towards the other side of the bed. ‘You don’t have to say a word. I know the score.’
‘You do?’ he questioned.
Hollie couldn’t miss the look of surprise which had darkened his features. Was he worried she was about to start planning some sort of future with him, just because they’d had amazing sex? Was he so arrogant as to imagine that a long night of love-making had turned her head?
And wasn’t he right to think that way when her heart was full of wonder at the beauty of what had happened? But Maximo would never know that. Not now and not ever—because if he did, it would destroy this fragile relationship of theirs.
‘Of course I do,’ she answered, her staunch words helping disguise the distracting flutter of her emotions. ‘We’ve already had the discussion. You don’t want to be involved with family life and I’m cool with that, for all the reasons I gave before. Nothing has changed. I enjoyed last night and I hope you did too—’
‘You know damned well I did,’ he growled.
‘Well, then.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘What’s not to like? Has the snow melted? Because if so, I can be on my way and out of your hair.’
Jumping out of bed, she grabbed the nearest velvet throw—which just happened to be scarlet—and wrapped it around herself, before padding over to the window, aware of Maximo’s gaze burning into her, watching every move she made.
Part of her wondered if it had all been a dream and the snow nothing but a figment of her imagination. Hadn’t she feared that this morning she would look out onto the dull greys and browns of a midwinter garden? But the scene which greeted her was as frozen and as beautiful as it had been the day before. A completely impenetrable world of white. Deep down Hollie knew it would probably be best for everyone if she could make her escape, but she couldn’t help the sudden leap of her heart when she realised that wasn’t going to be possible. Who could blame her for wanting to eke out this sensual liaison for as long as possible? ‘Oh, dear.’
‘Oh, dear what?’
‘Bad news, I’m afraid. There’s no sign of any thaw and it looks like there might even have been a fresh fall during the night. The road out of here is blocked, all right.’ She turned back to face him, wondering what had caused his face to darken like that. ‘Looks like my departure is going to have to be delayed.’
‘You sound almost disappointed, Hollie. Are you so eager to get away?’
Hollie gave him the benefit of her brightest smile. Perhaps she was better at acting than she’d thought. Maybe her relationship with Maximo—if you could call it a relationship—was a bit like Christmas. There was all this amazing stuff on the surface, which made you feel fantastic at the time, but after a day or two it was all over, as if it had never happened.
And thinking of Christmas... Hollie sucked in a breath. Just because Maximo had set himself up as some kind of modern-day Scrooge, didn’t mean she had to copy him, did it? They might not have a tree, or fancy baubles, but wasn’t adaptable her middle name? She knew what the score was, which meant that she didn’t have to try to impress him. She could just be herself, which she knew from some of her girlfriends wasn’t always the case when you were with a man. Wasn’t that a liberation of sorts?
So she shot him another smile. ‘The only disappointment would be if we weren’t going to celebrate Christmas, but that’s not going to happen.’
‘It isn’t?’ he questioned, with a frown.
‘Certainly not.’
‘But there’s nothing here. The castle doesn’t run to fairy lights,’ he said sarcastically. ‘And I told you. I don’t like Christmas.’
‘Maybe you don’t, but I do. There’s no need for us to forgo the festivities, just because we’re lacking a few resources—and I don’t intend to. Just leave it to me.’
The darkness in his eyes had been replaced by a sudden smokiness which Hollie recognised and it was with a feeling of falling—or failing—that she felt her body’s instant response.
‘I don’t care about the damned festivities,’ he ground out. ‘All I care about is having you back in my bed again. Now come over here, Hollie Walker, before I lose patience.’
Hollie had never been quite so aware of her own power and for a few brief moments she revelled in it. ‘Why don’t you come and get me?’ she said.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘OKAY. YOU CAN open them now.’
The soft hands which had been covering his eyes were removed and Maximo grew still as he stared at the scene in front of him, unable to believe what he was seeing. He shook his head a little, but nothing altered. What the hell had happened? The previously bare room now seemed like a distant memory, replaced by a glittering and shimmering spectacle. Because Hollie had decorated the long table in the castle library for a late Christmas lunch. No. She’d done much more than that. She had actually decorated the whole damned room so that it resembled something you might see on the movie channel throughout the month of December.
Cinderella's Christmas Secret (Mills & Boon Modern) Page 9
