She could barely stand another moment. Judd rose swiftly to his feet and guided her back onto the bed. Against her overheated body the sheets were a welcome stretch of coolness, but that coolness was soon swamped by the heat of Judd’s body as he rose over her.
He’d said she was beautiful but he was far more so. The symmetry of his body, the strength of his muscles, the golden tan of his skin and the heavy maleness of his arousal—each inch perfection in itself, let alone presented to her as whole.
He’d already grabbed a condom from somewhere and sheathed himself.
“I’m sorry,” he grunted as he positioned himself between her thighs. “This is going to be hard and fast, but I promise to take longer next time.” He eased his swollen length inside her, his face flushed with concentration. “And the next,” he said, his voice strained as he thrust forward, “and the next.”
Anna rocked her pelvis to meet his every move, her hands clutching his forearms as they braced at her sides, her legs wrapping around his hips. Her body responded to his fierce possession, a delicious tightening of her inner muscles heralding another orgasm. And then she was there, spasms of pleasure heightening in concentration until she thought she might break apart from the sheer strength of them. Judd lunged within her, his whole body shuddering as he, too, reached his pinnacle of completion.
When he collapsed against her, his breathing was ragged, his body still rocked intermittently by tiny tremors. It was several minutes before he withdrew and rolled to one side. He stroked away several strands of her hair that had settled over her face.
“I’ll be right back,” he murmured.
Anna nodded, too shattered to speak. A delicious lassitude consumed her body and she lay back on the sheets, barely daring to believe what had just happened between them. Judd came back from the bathroom and slid into the bed beside her then gathered her to him, whereupon he made good on his promise to take longer the next time. And the next.
Dawn was breaking when she awoke. She was sprawled across Judd’s chest, her legs tangled in his as if she couldn’t get close enough to him. The last time they’d made love she’d been poised above him, and in their aftermath she’d collapsed right where she lay. Their lovemaking had left her nearly incoherent. She’d never felt this close to another human being ever before.
In bed, Judd Wilson was a completely different man. Gone was the underlying tension that always kept Anna on edge in the office, wondering what was really going on in his keenly intelligent mind. No, in bed there had been nothing between them, quite literally. No past, no future—only the present.
Anna carefully loosed her legs from between his and levered herself onto the sheets beside him. Judd barely moved, lost in a sleep so deep his face relaxed into lines that made him look so much more approachable than he did on a day-to-day basis—less driven, less ruthless.
In the gray light filtering through the windows she looked her fill and wondered where they would go to from here. She couldn’t be angry with herself for breaking her long-standing rule—clearly Judd was a man who could never be resisted for long. But now that they’d started this affair, she didn’t know what came next. She didn’t want the kind of relationship her mother had had with Charles, which, while it was a deep and loving friendship, had never given her mother the full security of marriage which Donna Garrick had quietly craved. Her mother’s quiet acceptance of everything had made Anna angry with her for just settling for a half life.
Charles and Donna had been occasional lovers, a fact that was governed partially by his diabetes-related impotence and by the strictures of Donna being in his employ. There’d always been an imperceptible barrier between them. One that neither of them had fully crossed. Anna had always felt that her mother had compromised her own happiness for the sake of that vague relationship. Perhaps her need to provide a home and a quality education for her daughter had driven her, or perhaps, after her husband’s death, she wasn’t prepared to risk her heart again for a passionate love.
Anna had been five when her father had died unexpectedly, and her mother had been offered the position as Charles’s housekeeper. Anna had grown up under Charles’s roof lacking nothing materially. Deep inside, though, she knew that she wanted more—the emotional strength that came with being intrinsically linked with another soul being first and foremost on her list.
Judd was the kind of man she’d always believed she’d fall in love with one day. His looks aside, his intelligence and ability to provide made him an exceptionally attractive mate. But he was more than all that. This past week she’d seen so many of his strengths—his ability to calm Charles in the wake of Nicole’s defection being a perfect example.
Could she have all she wanted with Judd? Did he feel the same way about love and marriage and building a life together forever? Did he feel the same way about her? She almost laughed in the early-morning gloom. God, she was pathetic. Here she was after one night of mind-blowing sex and already she was marching him down the aisle. She didn’t even know for certain how compatible they were in other aspects of life. All she knew was that the moment she’d set eyes on him she’d reacted to him on an instinctive level she’d never experienced before. Bearing the brunt of his anger when he’d discovered her deception over her reasons for being at The Masters’ had been painful to bear. But once they’d gotten to New Zealand, things had changed. She’d seen sides of him she hadn’t suspected before. And then last night … well, last night had changed everything. Now she knew for certain that she wanted a future with him. But was that what he wanted, too?
Guilt drove a splinter into her thoughts. And what about his relationship with his sister? What about hers? Nicole already thought she’d gone over to the enemy by having represented Charles in Adelaide. If she knew that Anna was now considering getting seriously involved with Judd, she’d be even more angry—even more hurt. A lifetime of friendship shattered for a man she’d known for only a matter of weeks.
And what about Charles? How would he react to all of this? He’d seemed to encourage the two of them to spend time together, but would he approve of them having a real relationship?
Of course, all of that presupposed that a real relationship was what Judd wanted with her in the first place. Did she dare to even ask? So much was at stake—so much could be ruined if this went badly. Her job, her closeness to the people who meant the most to her, nearly everything she had, including the roof over her head in the house she’d lived in for nearly all her life, could all be lost.
She looked over again at Judd’s sleeping form. Even now, the urge to touch him was irresistible. In spite of herself, she curled up closer at his side, feeling a little thrill of pleasure when his arms tightened around her.
For now, he wanted her and she couldn’t deny that she wanted him. And away from her friends, from the gossips at the office, from Charles, he was too tempting to resist. Things would change when they got back to Auckland. If nothing else, she certainly wouldn’t want to engage in anything inappropriate under Charles’s roof. But for now … for now, she’d fall back asleep in Judd’s arms. She’d worry about the consequences later.
Judd felt Anna’s withdrawal from him grow incrementally larger as they got closer to home. It started at breakfast on the last morning of their trip, where she’d suggested eating in the restaurant rather than in their room as they had the past few days, and it had continued through their final appointments and for the duration of their plane trip to Auckland. Now, it was dark as Evans drove them up to the house and even though she was sitting right next to him, it felt like she was a million miles away.
After Evans had taken their bags inside the front foyer and gone to put the car back in the multicar garage, Judd turned to Anna.
“Will you stay with me tonight?”
“Judd …” She shook her head, not making eye contact.
“Why not?”