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Dropping his guard was foolish. This was just sex, a side bargain struck with his libido as the sole benefactor.
He would move on once his goal was attained.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
REBEL FELT AS if she’d been asleep for only minutes before being woken up. Probably because she had. They hadn’t made love again after the first time last night, but dawn light had already been tingeing the skies as they’d gone to sleep.
‘Move it, Arabella. You don’t want the sun to get any hotter before your run.’
She dragged her head from the pillow. Draco stood beside the bed, a tray in one hand and her gym gear in the other. He was dressed in running shorts and a body-hugging T-shirt. The sight of his body—the body she’d had the freedom to touch at will last night—sent a pulse of heat through her. Dry-mouthed, she tried to divert her gaze elsewhere as she sat up and accepted the tray. She needed to get her thoughts to coalesce so she could say something that didn’t sound completely embarrassing.
But her gaze climbed his frame, lovingly exploring it until she reached his face. And the arrogant smile that graced it.
‘You ogling me so hungrily isn’t going to get you out of training. In fact for every minute you stay in bed, you get to do another vertical jump.’
Since vertical jumps were her favourite of the exercises, Rebel contemplated staying put. One look at his face told her it was the wrong move.
He set the bowl of muesli in her lap. ‘Eat your breakfast. I’ll be back in ten minutes.’
He was back in five, just as she was about to get out of bed. She froze. ‘Can you...turn around, please?’
‘No.’ He shook out her training gear. ‘You get to wear this while you train. The rest of the time clothes won’t be necessary. You might as well get used to it now.’
She bit her lip and frowned. ‘If I’d known your island doubled as a nudist colony, I’d have taken my chances with the Gulag.’
He grinned, then dropped the clothes next to her. ‘You’ll wish you hadn’t said that by the time I’m finished with you. Up.’
She’d made love with him—was still not quite sure how she’d survived that transcendental experience—and yet the thought of him seeing her naked made her whole body flame with self-awareness.
Gritting her teeth, she flung the sheets back and stood. About to reach for her shorts, she gasped when he caught her wrist and yanked her close.
His grin had disappeared, his face a taut mask of hunger and desire as his sizzling gaze burned down her body. ‘First, you need to greet me properly,’ he commanded.
Rebel told herself it was unwise to give in so easily, to reach so greedily for what she wanted. But she was already surging close, curling her arms around his neck and raising herself on tiptoe to reach his mouth. His slanted across hers the moment they touched, his ravenous possession of her mouth making her senses sing. He fisted her hair, angled her head for a deeper exploration, while his other hand moulded her bottom.
They were both groaning, their breathing harsh, when they parted. Rebel licked her lower lip, already mourning the loss of his kiss. ‘Good morning, Drill Sergeant,’ she husked out.
‘Good morning, Arabella mou,’ he replied, his face an unsmiling mask reflecting all her cravings. ‘Now you can get dressed.’
A full-body tremble raking her, she turned, picked up the shorts and stepped into them. She was sliding them up when she felt his gentle touch on her lower back, just above her right buttock.
Rebel froze. She’d forgotten about her scar.
‘What happened here?’ he murmured.
She kept her face averted. ‘An accident,’ she replied, injecting as much lightness into her voice as possible.
‘During training?’ She heard the frown in his voice. She knew why. The scar wasn’t extensive, but the wound had been deep, the scar tissue pronounced. But far deeper was the secret scar she carried on her heart. The one she couldn’t tell him about because he would hate her, condemn her as no better than someone like Tyson Blackwell.
‘No, it was a long time ago.’ Hurriedly she snapped the waistband into place and reached for the top. Yanking it on, she schooled her features and turned. ‘I’m ready. You can do your worst now.’
The eyes that met hers held lingering questions. Rebel’s breath caught in her lungs; she was hoping against hope he’d let it go. She wasn’t ready for the sheer magic she’d discovered last night with him to be over. And it would be if he forced the secret out of her.
After another contemplative look, one corner of his mouth lifted. ‘That invitation is way too hard to ignore.’ Grabbing her hand, he marched her into the lift, and pressed the button for Level Three.
