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After another fifty lengths he stopped, treading water before he finally hauled himself out. He stood there on the rim of the pool, his lean brown body almost invisible in the darkness, water streaming down his face and body, looking at nothing through the blur of water droplets that pooled on the ends of his lashes. The vigorous exercise had not cleared his head or tamed his body.
He closed his eyes, head back; his chest lifted in a deep soundless sigh. If he couldn’t get rid of it he had to live with it, he told himself as he headed for the outdoor shower. He revolved under the cold spray until all trace of pool water was long gone and his skin was icy from the prolonged exposure that he hoped would offer him some respite from the relentless, pounding desire that defied the iron control he had come to take for granted. Rio was tolerant of weakness in others but not in himself, and he hadn’t allowed his body to rule him since his hormonal teens.
He shook the moisture off his hair before he used both hands to smooth off the excess, then grabbed his towel, looped it across his shoulders and headed back to the house.
They had spoken, just not to each other, barring the odd ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ or frigid ‘excuse me’, while Ellie had glowed with all the attention that came her way partly to compensate for the silences between her parents.
It was childish, and he knew it, but he still hadn’t been prepared to back down first and say sorry or whatever it took to thaw the frosty atmosphere.
The only full sentence she had directed at him was when she had asked if he’d like to put Ellie to bed. Had this been her way of meeting him in the middle, an olive twig rather than a branch? It was only a possibility that had occurred to him after the fact and then it was too late. Gwen had taken herself off to bed soon afterwards.
He didn’t bother turning on the lights as he padded through the open-plan living area. The tiled floor was warm underfoot with the heat retained from the day’s sun, even though the ambient temperature had been lowered to a comfortable level by the air conditioning.
He headed towards the bedroom wing, where the doors of the empty suites were open. One door beside his own was closed, and he found his feet stopping outside it.
He stayed there, struggling with the battle going on inside him, a struggle that was etched into the strong lines of his lean, sculpted features. His emotions were written on his face but there was no one around to hide them from. Gwen was behind the door. He stared at it, wondering if she was asleep or if she had lain awake thinking of him. He could picture her curled up in bed, her glorious hair spread out over the pillow.
What would she say if he knocked?
A sigh slipped from his mouth. He valued his freedom; he liked being answerable to no one. Yes, he was a father now but that wasn’t going to change, because it didn’t need to.
The problem was every time he looked at Gwen, when he smelt her skin, or touched her, a fragment of the wall of his carefully compartmentalised life crumbled, and he needed to stay in control.
What the hell was he doing?
Impatient with his own thoughts, and teeth clenched in a fierce grimace, he turned to walk further down the corridor to his room when the sound of a door opening stopped him. He swung back, his heartbeat accelerating, and she was standing there, all shocked big eyes, soft mouth and glorious tumbling hair. The tee shirt she was wearing clung to the high contours of her rounded breasts and just about reached the tops of her thighs, revealing the lovely tanned length of her long legs.
Like his brother’s punch, he didn’t try and block the flame of desire that scorched through him. He doubted that it would have made a difference even if he had; it would have been like trying to turn the tide with the power of his mind.
Shock nailed Gwen to the spot. ‘I... I...wanted...’ Her voice drifted away, and she forgot what she wanted to say. ‘Milk...?’ she said faintly, trying to think past the will-sapping fog of desire in her brain.
She swallowed, her eyes dropping as her gaze slid down the lean length of his powerful body. She had no time to prepare any defences and couldn’t hide what she was feeling.
‘Oh, my God,’ she whispered, the words dragged from the deepest part of her as the fight drained out of her. She might as well have fought her own DNA than tried to fight the way he made her feel.
For several heartbeats neither of them moved, then they fell into one another, kissing with a desperation that was almost feral in its intensity. Her hands were locked behind his neck as his hands moved over her shaking body, moulding her bottom and sliding down her slim thighs, then up under the hem of her nightshirt.
Gwen gasped, her head falling back as his lips made slow progress up the curve of her throat, and she arched into him.
Then her eyes filled with guilt and she lifted her head, pulling back a little as she laid her hand on his cheek. ‘Your poor mouth.’ She raised herself on tiptoe and kissed the corner of his injured mouth. ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’
He flashed a fierce smile and took her face between his hands. ‘I’m a fast healer.’ Holding her gaze, he very slowly fitted his mouth back to hers.
The slow, dreamy, sensuous kiss was blissful torture. His eyes burned with need as his head lifted, and the predatory glitter made her legs weak with lust.
‘You’re so beautiful,’ he rasped with a strained grin before he trailed a kiss down her jaw. Then, reaching the corner of her mouth, he added, ‘Are you going to invite me in?’
She didn’t say a word, she just looked at him, silent longing glowing in her eyes. Rio was stunned by the need building inside him. The strength of it was like nothing he had ever known before.
She turned and Rio followed her into the bedroom and over to the bed, where the covers were thrown back and the pillows all over the place as though she had done a lot of tossing and turning. He found himself pleased that he hadn’t been the only one suffering.
Her eyes were locked on his as she sat on the edge of the bed. He walked over to her and, still holding her eyes, caught the edge of the nightshirt. Without a word she lifted her arms and he pulled it over her head.
Gwen heard his raw gasp. Her eyes had drifted closed and she couldn’t open them; they felt heavy, her entire body infused with languid weakness.
She felt the bed give a little as he joined her there, drawing her down beside him until they lay thigh to thigh, face to face beside one another.
The first skin-to-skin contact drew a deep shuddering sigh from her, and her eyes opened. She raised her head and kissed him on the mouth, telling herself that she didn’t care about the future. All she cared about was now and being with this beautiful man who she loved.
