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She rolled her eyes at my joke and took the thing off its hangar, holding it out to look more closely. “This is definitely vintage, Ivan, and it has to be at least sixty years old. Sharkskin silk out of the fifties if I had to guess. I buy vintage dresses sometimes so I know a little about heirloom clothing, and they don’t come with cheap price tags. This looks expensive to me, and probably valuable. I’d hate to damage it. Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. You said you had to have a robe to cover up your spectacular tits from view, and so you shall.” I took it from her and held it open for her to slip on. “You may keep it if you like it. I don’t even know why it was in my closet. I never wore it.”
She slid one arm through and then the other, easing into it carefully as if she wasn’t worthy of the damn thing. That really irritated me. I was jealous of a goddamn fucking robe—and she didn’t know it yet, but as soon as we got into the pool house, I’d be tearing it off her.
“It really is beautiful,” she said as she ran her hands down the front and reached for the belt. “It fits me pretty well, although I don’t think it was ever meant to be this long. Definitely sized for a man.” She looked down at her toes peeping out from the hem at the floor. The sleeves were a little long too, but overall the whole effect was really fucking sexy. Her nipples had hardened and I could see the perfect outline of her breasts under the thin silk. Knowing she was basically naked underneath that robe, and also what we’d been doing together for the last hours, was a pretty powerful force to fight off.
But I didn’t want to fight anything off with her.
I wanted to keep her—something I’d not wanted to do with anybody for a very long time. I understood I needed to be careful with how to proceed with Gabrielle. She was different. Not typical in how she viewed the world, or even in how she behaved within it. Somehow, I knew the things I’d done before to charm women, were not going to work with her. She was also a runner, I’d learned. She ran away when she was scared.
But this was the heart of my problem, and I needed to figure her out.
“Beautiful. I agree, Miss Hargreave.” Again, she had no idea I was referring to her and not the pretentious robe, which was now preventing me from enjoying the view of her spectacular tits.
Gabrielle was that perfectly unspoiled.
I kept my promise and ditched her robe as soon as we got into the pool house. We held hands and jumped in together. She dared me to do it. Competitive Gabrielle was as incredibly sexy as the submissive Gabrielle I’d just had underneath me taking my cock to perfection.
She looked like a water goddess in my pool. Wet hair plastered over her skin and breasts. Hard nipples peeking through enough to tease me. Absolutely no hesitation when I challenged her to a race of four laps. She even gave me some opposition because she was a strong swimmer, but I didn’t let her win. I guessed right. She would’ve been greatly displeased if I had.
She got back at me for the win by mocking me with a glimpse of her arse in those thong knickers, and then topped that off with a huge kick of water to the head.
“That’s it, you’re done,” I said, going down and tugging her underwater with me. She surprised me again by grabbing my face and kissing me before I could even do much more than grab her. I reluctantly brought us up to the surface still kissing, and wondering how she’d turned everything around on me.
I got my hands under her bum and lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around my hips and released my lips, still holding my face in her two hands.
Her green eyes looked very mischievous. “You were saying something about me being done, Mr. Everley? Are you sure, because it doesn’t feel like it to me.” She ground her hips forward and right down on my awakening cock.
Instinct took over and I thrust back, my thoughts instantly going forward with possibilities of where we were going to shag next. Edge of the pool? Chaise lounge? Grotto shower?
God, she was so perfect, and I was so…captivated. I lowered my lips to lick at her wet nipple before closing around it, drawing it in for a full suck. She leaned back to give me more access and gasped a small sound of pleasure. So responsive and lush like this—
The echoing creak of the doors opening got our attention when Finnegan entered with a rolling cart and wearing an apron. Gabrielle squeaked and slid down in the water, arms crisscrossed over her bare breasts. I stepped in front of her to shield her a little more, and gave Finnegan a face full of, What in the hell are you up to, old man?
THANK God Ivan stepped in front of me. Mr. Finnegan was here and had to have seen me cavorting naked in the pool with his employer. Mortified much? I couldn’t even begin to imagine what he thought of me now, considering my emotional state the last time he’d laid eyes on me.
“Breakfast, my Lord, for you and Miss Hargreave. Welcome back to Donadea, miss.”
I peered around Ivan but kept my body under the water. “Hello, Mr. Finnegan. Thank you for the breakfast, and the welcome.” God, I wanted to duck completely under and swim away.
He tilted his head at me politely. “Miss Hargreave, you left some of your clothes behind in your room when you departed previously. I’ve taken the liberty of laundering your things, and have placed them in Mr. Everley’s bedroom should you like to…have them back in your possession.” He cleared his throat and stood ramrod straight waiting for me to respond.
“Oh.” My muddy clothes I’d left on the floor. “Thank you. How sweet of you to do that for me. I figured you would have thrown them out.”
I nodded in thanks like an idiot, hovering behind Ivan. Two thoughts came to mind: I now had some clothes to wear which was a good thing, but the evidence I’d just spent the night in bed sexing up the boss, out there for open speculation—not so much. I’m sure my face was the color of a beet. And why was Ivan so silent just standing in the pool saying nothing like a mute? I poked him in the side with my elbow.
I felt him react and peer down at me in question.
I kept my fake smile plastered to my face trained on Mr. Finnegan. Ivan could swing in the breeze for all I cared. This was an every-man-for-himself situation.
“Breakfast, huh? Thank you, Finnegan,” he said slowly.
“My pleasure, my Lord. Oh, I nearly forgot to mention, a package arrived a short while ago, addressed to you from Mr. Brinkley. I’ve delivered that to your bedroom as well.”
“Ah, excellent,” Ivan answered stiffly.
“Shall I pour?” Mr. Finnegan asked with an outstretched arm toward the cart.
