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‘Tomorrow, I’ll show you round the house,’ Max murmured lazily, apparently impervious to the tension in the atmosphere. ‘Then you’ll feel more at home here.’
Tia did not think she could ever feel at home with servants and fancy clothes and even fancier furniture, but then she glanced at Max and a kind of peace entered her soul. He made her feel safe and, while he was present, he made her feel as if she belonged. Yet ironically, if she was to believe Ronnie, as a boy Max had been looked down on at Redbridge for being related to the housekeeper. Was that why he still seemed unapproachable in the company of Andrew’s relations and friends? Did he think that old snobbish outlook still existed? Or was it simply that Max was a loner?
After the coffee was served, guests began to leave and a welter of invitations came Tia’s way. Her phone was soon crammed with new numbers and names.
‘Who’s Doug?’ Tia pressed Max, recalling Ronnie’s nervous backtracking and that evocative word, ‘scandal’, which had only roused her intense curiosity. ‘And why doesn’t he visit?’
‘One of your cousins. Someone mention him?’ Max’s strong jaw line squared. ‘He doesn’t visit because of something that happened a long time ago when we were teenagers,’ he admitted grittily. ‘It was supposed to destroy my reputation but instead it destroyed Doug’s family and made Andrew angry with him.’
Andrew’s housekeeper, Janette, a slim, no-nonsense brunette, escorted them upstairs and Tia was forced to swallow back the dozen nosy questions brimming on her lips.
‘Mr Grayson asked me to prepare the master suite for you,’ the housekeeper informed them.
Max frowned in surprise. ‘But that’s—’ He bit off what he had almost said and compressed his lips. The master suite had once been Andrew’s, but since his illness had been diagnosed Andrew had been using a specially adapted room on the ground floor and, given that he needed a wheelchair, it was far more suitable for him. But putting both Max and Tia into the principal room at the hall was making a very public statement about how the owner of the house viewed the status of his newly married granddaughter and her husband.
‘I hope you’ll be comfortable here, madam,’ Janette declared warmly, closing the door on them.
‘It’s beautiful...’ Tia whispered, her bright eyes skimming appreciatively from the welcome log fire burning in the grate to the silk-clad bed and the arrangement of glorious white roses sited in front of the elegantly draped windows. Kicking off her high heels, she moved closer to the fire because the spring chill of an English evening was downright cold compared with the hot, humid climate she was used to.
Turning her head, she focused on Max. ‘Now tell me about what happened between you and this Doug,’ she urged.
‘Later,’ Max breathed, his faint accent fracturing the word as his hands came down on her narrow shoulders to slowly turn her round and ease her out of her jacket. The fire cast a reddish glow over her blonde hair, darkening the glossy strands while accentuating the creamy perfection of her skin.
Her breath fluttered in her dry throat. ‘Later?’ she queried, the evocative scent of him, heat and masculinity with a faint hint of something citrusy, flaring her nostrils.
‘Right now I only have time for you,’ Max confided, tiny flames reflected from the fire dancing in his dark eyes, transforming them to liquid bronze. ‘I let you sleep last night because you were very tired. It was the unselfish thing to do. I also thought you might be...sore...’
Her face flamed. ‘Not any more.’
‘And I need you to be at full strength,’ Max imparted, ‘because I’m not sure I could be that gentle again, bella mia. In your radius I’m in an almost continual state of arousal.’
&
nbsp; ‘Is that so?’ Tia almost whispered, all woman, all appreciation of the compliment being paid.
‘I’m naturally a selfish bastard but I’m trying very hard to put your needs first.’
Tia lifted her hands and let them skim down over his warm torso, revelling in the strength of the muscular body beneath his shirt. Her fingers drifted lower, discovering the bold outline of him, stroking and caressing with newfound assurance. ‘I think you’re going to be a terrific husband,’ she told him, smiling as he arched his hips into her hand. ‘But if we’re going to be true equals I’ve got a lot to learn too.’
‘You can practise on me whenever you like,’ Max admitted, peeling off his jacket and wrenching at his shirt with flattering impatience.
As the ropes of muscle across his abdomen flexed, Tia unbuckled his belt and unzipped him. Max breathed in starkly, savouring the fact that she constantly took him by surprise. Her hand stroked the length of him and she bent her head, her tongue flicking out to taste him. By the time the warm, wet heat of her mouth engulfed him, Max was almost unbearably full and hard, the grinding pulse of driving hunger gripping him in a vice. Watching her pleasure him excited him beyond bearing and, long before she could tease him to a climax, he reached down and forcefully pulled her up to him, lifting her to plunge his tongue deep into her sweet, intoxicating mouth and feel the answering leap of response vibrate through both of them.
‘Max... I—’ Tia began.
‘Another time,’ Max growled, settling her down on the edge of the table by the window, pushing up her skirt and stepping between her spread thighs. ‘This is what I’ve been dreaming of all day.’
And with that grated confession, Max tilted her back, hurriedly donned a condom and thrust into her hard and deep and strong. The table creaked in complaint but Tia’s body was hot and slick with arousal and her tender flesh yielded to him.
‘Dannazione,’ he groaned feverishly. ‘You are so tight.’
Tia jerked, her head falling back, blue eyes shaken by his fire as she jerked under him with a helpless moan of sensual pleasure. He was aggressive, dominating in a way he had not been the first time, and the welling of sensation deep within her throbbed with a wild hunger that thrilled her, excitement climbing as his movements became rougher and more demanding. Little internal tremors shimmied through her, bands of tension tightening within her pelvis until her body clenched convulsively around him at the height of her excitement. Wave after glorious wave washed over her as orgasmic aftershocks took her by storm. A low guttural sound was wrenched from him as he too reached completion.
In the aftermath, her body was weighted and limp. Max carried her over to the bed and laid her down, tilting her to unzip her dress and pull it off, unclipping her bra as an afterthought. As he vanished into what was obviously a bathroom, Tia released a happy sigh of contentment. Max had just shown her the hunger, passion and impatience that revealed his need for her. No, there had been nothing lukewarm about that encounter, she reflected with satisfaction, struggling to muster the energy to get up and go and wash.
‘Have to take off my make-up,’ she mumbled as he stepped out of the shower naked and dripping to reach for a towel.
Tia showered, her feminine core still pulsing from the intensity of the release he had given her and the no less energising discovery that sex could take place on a table as well as a bed and be fast and glorious as well as slow and wonderful.
