‘Touching you. Do you like it?’
‘No.’ Rose felt faint.
‘Yes, you do.’ Gabriel’s voice was as soft as silk. ‘Every relationship has to start somewhere. You’re absolutely right.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Gabriel.’ Her words were punctuated by the sound of the shutters being blown back as the gale force winds ferociously tried to attack the inside of the villa. Gabriel jumped up and even for him it was a struggle to secure them back into place. When he was finished he turned to her, arms folded, and walked towards where she was now half sitting up on the mattress.
‘I’m going to check on the rest of the place,’ he told her, ‘make sure that everything’s as secure as it’s possible to be.’
‘I’ll come.’
‘No.’
‘But…’
‘If anything needs securing, you won’t be able to help with it. I’m no chauvinist, but even I have to acknowledge that I’m probably going to be better at doing something that requires brute strength.’ And besides, he thought to himself, he didn’t want her putting on her secretarial hat. He didn’t want her sticking on her jeans and gathering herself together. He wanted her warm and wide-eyed and lying next to him. He wanted…
He could feel his body responding to the thought of what he really wanted.
‘I’ll be half an hour. You stay here.’
Right, Rose thought, as soon as he had left the room. Time for a think. Time to get the brain processes into gear. Put some clothes on. Maybe even drag the mattress back into her room. She might be scared of errant tarantulas but how much scarier was the thought of Gabriel returning, touching her, talking in that low, husky voice that made minced meat of all her good intentions?
She groaned softly and her hand strayed to where her cotton underwear was mortifyingly damp. Just talking to her—that was all he had done—had left her body throbbing and on fire. One touch there and she knew she would fall helplessly off the edge into mindless orgasm.
No!
Before she could dwell on the heat coursing through her body and on her own craving to have him quench it with his touch, she sprang to her feet and began dragging the mattress towards the door. It was pretty heavy and cumbersome. He had made it seem lightweight when he had dragged it through, but then, as he had said, he was equipped for the heavy duty stuff.
She had her back to the door and was busily trying to get some sort of grip that would turn the unwieldy object into something more manageable, when he spoke and Rose jumped in shock.
‘What are you doing?’
Rose blinked in confusion. ‘I thought you were going to be gone for at least half an hour? Checking that everything was nailed down?’ She was still clutching one tip of the mattress and noticing that he was damp, probably caught out by the rain in one of the rooms. His black hair glistened.
‘Everything’s nailed down. What are you doing?’
‘I’m going back to my room,’ Rose mumbled. ‘I think it’s for the best.’
‘Mind if I ask why?’
Rose dropped the mattress and it thudded against the back of her legs, making her stumble. Unless she suddenly developed the secret of body displacement, there was no way she was going to leave the room, not while Gabriel was standing in front of the door, arms folded, as immovable an object as she had ever set eyes on.
‘Because the situation seems to be getting a little out of hand.’ Rose aimed for her usual crisp voice but it had deserted her. In its place, was something nervous and unsteady and her eyes skittered away from his face.
‘I didn’t come over here…to…for…’ Her words faltered and she cleared her throat. ‘The weather’s making us both behave out of character and…’
‘The weather has nothing to do with it,’ Gabriel said dismissively. ‘And we’re behaving perfectly in character…’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Rose said faintly.
‘You can scuttle back to your room, Rose. I’m not going to stand in your way, but make no mistake—we want one another. There’s no use you pretending that you’ve got the perfect man in the background. He might be perfect but he’s not perfect for you or else your whole body wouldn’t quiver when I touch you.’
‘How dare you?’ Rose said weakly. ‘That’s simply not true…’
‘No? Then you wouldn’t mind if I put it to the test…’
Rose’s mind shrieked a frantic, Yes, yes I would mind! But when she opened her mouth, nothing came out. Worse, her eyelids fluttered and, as his mouth touched hers, every bone in her body seemed to turn to water. That probably explained why she found herself leaning against him and why her hands curved upwards around his neck, drawing him down to her as she hungrily, greedily, returned his kiss.
Nothing had prepared her for this. That first kiss had been a taster but this was the real thing. He had told her that he wanted her and, just in case she was in any doubt, his kiss was putting paid to that.
His tongue invaded her eager mouth and his hand was on her waist, making sure that she was pressed against him so that she could feel the hardness of his arousal.
Rose whimpered and, when he drew back slightly, she moaned, wanting him back.
‘Do you still want to go back to your room?’ Gabriel murmured. ‘Because, if you do, then tell me now, right now. And I’ll take the mattress in for you. But if you stay, then…’ He left his sentence unfinished but Rose knew exactly what he meant. If she stayed, then there would be no turning back. They would make love and to hell with what came afterwards, to hell with reality waiting just around the corner. He was giving her the opportunity to change her mind.
‘What about…tomorrow…?’ She had to ask the question and she didn’t mean tomorrow in the literal sense. He understood immediately.
‘For me, tomorrow is a bridge to cross. But not now. Too much planning for tomorrow dilutes the chance of enjoying today. But that’s me. For you…decide now, Rose.’
Rose realised that she knew him too well to escape his meaning. Strip away all the waffle about bridges and enjoying todays…he was telling her to either give in to lust and enjoy the moment because there would be nothing else forthcoming, or else abandon the exercise while he was affording her the chance.
Rose met his eyes steadily and then smiled ruefully. ‘But I’ll always blame it on the weather,’ she murmured before reaching up to touch his face against the palm of her hand.
CHAPTER EIGHT
WORLD WAR THREE could have been happening outside. In terms of the weather, World War Three probably was happening outside, but Rose was unaware of it. Gabriel pushed the mattresses back together and then turned to her.
‘Don’t take anything off. I want to undress you. It’s been my fantasy for a while.’
‘Has it?’Now that, Rose thought, was a truly sexy remark and not one she had ever thought she would hear, least of all from Gabriel, the object of her own fantasies for as long as she could remember.
‘Oh, yes,’ he murmured. ‘You have no idea how erotic some of your buttoned-up suits can be.’ He circled her waist with his hands and then, slowly, oh, so slowly, pushed up her T-shirt, savouring every minute of her gradual exposure. First her stomach, silky smooth and flat, then, he drew his breath in swiftly, her breasts, full and perfectly formed with big rosy nipples that begged to be taken into his mouth.
He thought of her, sitting in front of him in his office, legs crossed, notepad on her knee, the epitome of sensible efficiency.