She had begun to feel she didn’t really belong in his life and that the fiery attraction that had brought them together initially was not going to be enough to sustain them in the long term. She had always known he desired her; it was the one thing she could count on. He never seemed to tire of making love with her. It had thrilled her at first but after a while she had begun to crave more from him than sex. She had fooled herself she would be able to change him, to teach him how to love her the way she loved him.
And then, in spite of what she had told him, she had begun to dream of having a baby. She silently craved to build a family with him, to put down the roots that had been denied her throughout her childhood. But she had never been brave enough to bring up the subject. She had obediently taken her contraceptive pills and done her best to ignore the screeching clamour of her biological clock until that fateful day when she had finally had enough. Finding out about his father’s will, on top of the press photo of him with the Russian singer, had tipped her over the edge. She had left him in the hope he would come after her and beg her to return. She had hoped he would insist on changing the rules of their marriage so they could have a proper fulfilling life together.
But of course he hadn’t. A man as proud as Javier would not beg anyone to come back to him. Look at what had happened between him and his father. A decade had gone past and he hadn’t budged.
‘Emelia?’ Javier’s deep voice broke through her thoughts. ‘What’s going on?’
She met his concerned gaze. ‘I remember…’
He sat upright, tumbling her onto her back, his fingers grasping her by both arms. ‘What? Everything?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘Bits and pieces. Like when and how we met. Some of our time together. Most of our time together.’
One of his hands moved in a slow stroking motion up and down her arm. ‘So I was right,’ he said. ‘Your body recognised me from the first. Your mind just had to catch up.’
She touched his lips with her fingers, tracing over their contours. ‘How could I have forgotten you? I can’t believe I didn’t remember you. Were you very angry about that?’
Javier captured one of her fingers with his mouth, sucking on it erotically, all the while holding her gaze. He released her finger and said, ‘I have to admit I was angry, especially when you hadn’t forgotten Marshall.’
Her eyes dropped from his, a frown pulling at her forehead. ‘I can’t explain that. I’m sorry.’
‘It is not important now,’ he said. ‘We have to move on.’
‘Javier?’ Her soft voice was like a feather brushing along his lower spine.
Javier looked down at her tussled hair and slim naked body. His groin tightened as he thought of having her back in his life permanently. His plans to divorce her seemed so ridiculous now. He had acted stupidly, blindly and in anger. His pride had taken a hit from what had been reported in the press about her and Marshall and he had let it block out his reason. He wanted her too much to let her go. He didn’t like admitting it. He would rather die than admit it. She was the one woman who had brought him to his knees. He had nearly gone out of his head when he found she had left him. He had not realised how much he wanted and needed her until she had gone.
A part of him blamed himself. He had been so preoccupied with the Moscow takeover. It was the deal of a lifetime. The negotiations had been tricky from the get-go but he had always believed he could pull it off. His goal had been to add that Russian bank to his empire and he had done it. It was the ultimate prize, the benchmark business deal. But he just hadn’t realised it would come at such a personal cost.
He brushed some damp tendrils of hair back off her face. ‘Tired, cariño?’
She shook her head, her grey-blue eyes like shimmering pools. ‘Not at all.’ She stretched her slim body against him just like a sinuous cat and smiled. ‘Not one little bit.’
His blood rocketed through his veins and he pressed her back down and covered her mouth with his, kissing her hungrily, delighting in the way she responded just as greedily. His tongue played with hers, stroking and sweeping until she succumbed with a whimpering sigh of pleasure. His hands moved over her breasts, the already erect nipples a dark cherry-red. He closed his mouth over each of them, flicking them with the point of his tongue, before sucking deeply. Her fingers scored through his hair, her body bucking under him as she opened for him.
He knew he was rushing things but he was aching and heavy with longing. She was already slick with his seed from before, hot, wet and wanting him just as much as he wanted her. It sounded prehistoric but he wanted to stake his claim again and again, to mark his territory in the most primal way of all. Her body wrapped around him tightly as he thrust into her, the walls of her inner core rippling against him. He had to fight to stay in control, each thrusting movement sending gushing waves of need right through him. She squirmed beneath him, searching for that extra friction to send her to paradise. He made her wait; he wanted to make her beg. It seemed fitting since he had suffered so much because of her leaving him, for putting him through such a tormented hell.
‘I want…’ she panted beneath him. ‘I want you to…Oh, please, Javier…’
He smiled over her mouth as he took it in another scorching kiss, his hands sliding between her thighs, teasing her with almost-there caresses.
She whimpered again and grasped at his hand, pushing it against her pearly need. ‘Please,’ she begged him passionately.
Javier flicked his fingers against her, just the way she liked. He knew her body like a maestro knew his instrument. She felt so silky and feminine, the scent of her driving him mad with the need to let go. He waited until she had started to orgasm, the spasms of her body gripping him until he had no choice but to explode. He pumped into her harder and harder, forcing the images of her alleged affair that had tortured him out of his head. He felt her flinch, he even felt her fingers grasping at his shoulders but he carried on relentlessly, until finally he spilled himself with a shout of triumph.
He rolled onto his back, his chest rising and falling as he tried to steady his breathing. He turned his head as he felt the mattress shift. Emelia had rolled away with her back to him, huddled into a ball. He reached out and stroked a finger down her spine. ‘Emelia?’
She flinched and moved further away from him, mumbling something he didn’t quite catch.
Javier sat upright and, taking her nearest shoulder, turned her onto her back. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.
Her eyes flashed at him like lightning. ‘I think you know what’s wrong.’
‘I’m not a mind reader, Emelia. If you have something to say, then, for God’s sake, say it.’
She continued to glare at him but then her eyes began to swim with tears. ‘Don’t ever make love to me as if I was your mistress,’ she said, her voice cracking over the words. ‘I am your wife.’
Javier felt a knife of guilt go between his ribs. ‘I got carried away,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry. You said you liked it like that in the past.’
She gave him a cutting look. ‘Did you ever think I might have been saying that just to please you?’
He sent his fingers through his hair before he reluctantly faced her. ‘I am not sure of what you want any more, Emelia,’ he said. ‘It’s like I have a different wife from the one I had only a month or so ago. It’s going to take some time to adjust.’
She looked at him through watery eyes. ‘Was our relationship about anything but sex?’ she asked.
He got off the bed as if she had pushed him. ‘Now that some of your memory has returned you should