She had a feeling that when this man did rouse himself enough to show a preference for a particular woman he never received a lukewarm response, let alone faced the possibility of being turned down. As he was about to be!
‘I’m busy tomorrow night,’ she told him dismissively.
‘Caro—–’
‘I said no, Mr de Wolfe,’ she refused firmly as the silky caress of his voice threatened to once again seduce her.
‘I meant it when I said I would keep asking, Caroline,’ he warned grimly. ‘I can’t take no for an answer from you.’
Her hand shook as she slowly replaced the receiver, half expecting him to ring straight back, but realising when he didn’t do so that he was wise enough to know that would just make her even angrier.
When she met Tony the next night she knew Paula had lost no time in telling her brother of Justin’s interest. It didn’t seem to matter to Tony that she had refused to see the other man. He was furious that Justin de Wolfe had asked her out at all, seemed to think she must have encouraged the other man in some way—Justin de Wolfe, reputedly not a man to exert himself for any woman.
But he seemed determined to do so for her, turning up at the most unexpected times during the next three weeks, meeting her as she came off duty, calling around at the flat, and always with the purpose of repeating his dinner invitation.
Much as she hated to admit it, this show of attention from a man who rarely bothered with women at all began to affect her, and in a strange way she began to look forward to seeing him, the sexual tension between them building each time she did so. Ultimately it affected her relationship with Tony; she was no longer at ease in his company as he seemed to regard her suspiciously. Finally he lost his temper completely and told her he thought they should stop seeing each other, that she should go out with Justin de Wolfe and see how fascinating she found him when he left her after a few dates!
She hadn’t thought Tony could mean what he had said, expecting him to come round and apologise, but after three days of waiting she realised he had meant every word. Her hurt turned to anger, and the next time Justin asked her out she accepted.
When she opened the door to him at seven-thirty that evening she knew she had made a mistake. Tonight even the veneer of civilisation had been stripped from him, the black evening suit and snowy white shirt doing nothing to disguise his primitive savagery. Any idea she might have had about just being another conquest to him was wiped out as she met the blazing desire in his gaze; Justin was a man who usually held himself in cool control, and he no more welcomed this feeling of helplessness to desire than she did. He just knew it was useless to fight the inevitable.
Being taken into his arms was inevitable, too. Her throat arched as Justin’s mouth came down firmly on hers, both of them exploding with a need that had barely been held in check since the moment their gazes first met.
She could taste him, feel him along every nerve-ending in her body, knew that Justin’s veneer of sophistication had slipped because he was just as unnerved by this desire.
He kissed her deeply, hotly, his hands moving over her body with fevered insistence, cupping one pert breast to caress the pulsing nub with fiery rhythm.
Her hands were tangled in the dark thickness of his hair as she clung to him, her body on fire, knowing that if he hadn’t held her so tightly she would have fallen to the carpeted floor.
Finally he drew back with a ragged sigh, resting his forehead on hers. ‘Hello,’ he greeted her belatedly.
She gave a shaky laugh, her hands still clinging to his broad shoulders. ‘I dread to think what you could do with “Hello, darling"!’
He shook his head to clear it of the sexual haze. ‘I have no doubt we’ll find out,’ he said gruffly. ‘Are you ready to go?’
The question held much more than its surface significance, at least, for her, but one look into his arrogantly assured face when he arrived and she had known she was more than ready, that she had probably been waiting for tonight all her life. Her relief that she had waited, and not fallen into that trap a lot of her friends had by sleeping with men they were merely fond of, was immense. She knew with certainty that somehow during the last three weeks—probably instantly she saw him—she had fallen in love with this enigmatic man, that she had been fighting a losing battle.
‘I’m ready,’ she nodded, smiling shyly, knowing her mouth had to be bare of lipgloss by now, and not really caring. Justin was looking at her as if he would like to eat her, and her mouth felt swollen and red enough without the aid of artifice.
Later they were alone in his apartment, although Caroline doubted he had actually cooked the delicious meal they served up together. No doubt he had someone that came in to cook and clean for him, her presence unobtrusive in the extreme; Justin didn’t give the impression of a man who hurried home at the end of the day to spend time cooking.
The food was deliciously prepared and cooked, smelt wonderful, too, and yet neither of them did justice to it. Caroline couldn’t keep her eyes off Justin for more than a few seconds at a time, her anticipation high, and he seemed to be lost in brooding silence as he absently pushed the food around on his plate.
‘I can’t wait any longer!’ He suddenly threw his fork down, pushing his plate away to stand up. ‘Caro, I need to make love to you. Very badly.’
She could see just how badly by the fevered glitter of his gaze, his hands clenched at his sides. And if she were honest—and that seemed to be what Justin demanded of her—she couldn’t wait any longer, either.
She stood up, too, her legs a little shaky, and then they were in each others arms, and it was just as if there had been no break from their earlier impassioned kisses, Justin’s mouth wide and moist against hers, his tongue moving into her fiercely at the same time as he pulled her thighs high against him.
He was hard and pulsating against her, groaning low in his throat at the satiny feel of her thighs, his kisses becoming even fiercer, devouring, filled with hunger as he began to pull off her clothes.
Caroline felt a shiver as the cool air caressed her body as her gown fell at her feet, the feel of Justin’s dinner jacket abrasive against her naked breasts, rubbing against the tips, filling her lower body with a warm ache that flamed moistly as Justin touched her there.
He suckled on her breast, drawing it hungrily into his mouth, the pleasure-pain causing her to whimper low in her throat, breathing shakily, her back arched as she pushed herself against him.
He drew just as fiercely on the other nipple while his hand cupped and caressed the breast he had abandoned, holding her up against him as if she weighed nothing at all.
She couldn’t stand it any more, needing more, needing it all, pushing frantically at his jacket, their mouths fused together as Justin helped her with the removal of his clothes, sinking down on to the floor with her, lying between her parted thighs as he moved restlessly against her.
She cradled either side of his face as their kisses went on and on, moist and hungry, fevered, Caroline arching against him as he continued to caress her aching breasts.
His legs felt abrasive against her as he moved above her, increasing her passion, the ache between her thighs becoming almost a pain.
And then he came into her, slowly, not forcefully, easing her sudden tension, gently penetrating the barrier that parted and finally moved aside altogether. There should have been pain, but there wasn’t, only an unfamiliar feeling of fullness, a slight