AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She felt the hardness of him brush against her and tensed. ‘Please—’ In desperation, she ran her hands down his body and her heart gave a little lurch as she touched the power of him.
He leaned his forehead against hers, holding her gaze. ‘I don’t want to hurt you—’
‘You won’t.’
There was a brief pause while he protected her and then he was inside her, hard and hot. The size of him shocked her and Evie forced herself to relax as she learned to accommodate him.
‘Breathe—’ His voice was husky and he lowered his mouth to hers. ‘Breathe, tesoro.’
‘Can’t—’ Her body was on fire and he gently brushed her mouth with his, tracing her lower lip with his tongue as he eased deeper.
She felt an agonizing flash of pain, immediately followed by excitement as he moved against sensitive flesh and she d
ug her nails hard into his back, feeling the tension shimmering in his powerful frame.
He was holding back. Holding back for her.
Her heart was pounding, her cheeks were flushed and her blood raced with every agonizingly slow stroke. Pleasure streaked through her and she cried out his name, telling him how much she wanted him, how much she needed him and he answered with his body, driving into her with controlled force, attacking her senses with a savage sensuality.
The storm inside was fierce and furious, raging through her like a wild beast, ready to burn up everything it touched. What they shared was primitive and elemental and she knew deep down in the very fibre of her being that nothing was ever going to be the same again.
She felt his fingers dig hard into the soft flesh of her thigh and then faster, harder, he built the rhythm until there was nothing in her head but a thundering roar, until everything inside and around her shattered into a million tiny fragments and she fell, spinning and tumbling, into a different world.
When she woke, she was alone in the bed. At some point during the early hours he’d transferred her to the bedroom, tucking her under the soft duvet. She had a vague recollection of pleading with him to join her and an equally vague recollection that his response to her request had been to pull away and return to the living room, making good on his earlier warning that their intimacies would be physical, not emotional. He’d returned to his laptop—to his own silent world. A world that didn’t include Christmas or people.
A world that didn’t include her.
Dizzy with lack of sleep, her body aching in unusual places, Evie slid out of the bed, blushing as she realised her nightdress was probably still lying in pieces on the floor of the living room.
So this was how it felt to sleep with a man you weren’t in love with.
Padding across the thickly carpeted floor, she gazed in the mirror at herself, trying to see the differences. Same blue eyes. Same freckles. Same crazy morning hair.
She looked the same. Outwardly, nothing had changed. Maybe she could live a life that included sex without happy endings. Other women did it all the time. Maybe she could too.
Hearing his voice from the living room, Evie quickly pulled on a robe and followed the sound. He was on the phone, talking to someone in a time zone more alive than theirs. He’d made love to her for most of the night, but that hadn’t stopped him working. Nothing stopped him working. But now she was wondering whether work was a refuge rather than a goal. A place to escape rather than a strategy for global domination.
The first thing she saw when she entered the room were newspapers stacked on the low table between the sofas.
Her stomach lurched and she felt sick with apprehension.
This was it. This was the moment she’d been dreading. This was the reason for the charade.
Had they printed that horribly revealing photograph?
Was that why he was on the telephone?
Hardly daring to look, she sank onto the sofa and stared at the newspaper on top of the pile, forcing herself to breathe slowly. It was one of the tabloids. If anyone had printed the picture of her naked, surely it would be them. Her hand shaking, she reached out and lifted it onto her lap. The headlines blurred and suddenly she didn’t want to look, as if postponing the moment could alter the outcome. ‘Calma, tesoro. It’s all right.’ His voice was deep and firm. ‘They printed a lovely picture of you with your arms around my neck. The caption is “Tycoon tumbles” or something equally unimaginative. I expect your grandfather will be satisfied with it.’
What did he mean by that? ‘So you were right.’ Even though he’d reassured her, her fingers were damp with sweat as she forced herself to turn the pages. ‘Because we gave them another photo opportunity and a bigger story, they used that instead. Thank you.’ The relief was almost painful. ‘Thank you so much.’ Her eyes glistened as she looked up at him. ‘I don’t know what I would have done if they’d used that photograph. I’m so grateful to you.’
A muscle flickered in his jaw. ‘You have no reason to be grateful to me, Evie.’
‘Yes, I have. It was your idea to give them a better story. I would have tried to pay them off and that never would have worked because I suppose they would have just kept coming back for more money.’
He drew his hand over the back of his neck and she saw the muscles in his forearm flex, revealing a tension she didn’t understand. ‘Evie—’
‘You don’t have to say anything,’ she said hastily. ‘I do realise that this is just one day and that they could use that photograph tomorrow, but I’m not going to think about that now. We’ll take it a day at a time. Maybe we can make sure they take another photograph of us tonight. Keep giving them something else to print. I promise not to dance on the table again, no matter how Christmassy I feel. What are our plans?’
