As for being a married man, he thought as they knelt, a bride that looked like an earthbound angel had to be a huge encouragement for any male wary of settling down. Tia gripped his fingers as though she were in fear of drowning when he eased the gold ring into place. She needn’t have worried. A lot of change was coming her way but Max would look after her in every way and to the very best of his ability. He hadn’t needed a wedding ring to accept that responsibility though; he would have cared for her simply out of respect for Andrew Grayson. And sliding his own ring on when Tia struggled to get it over his knuckle, he smiled with satisfaction, knowing that as Tia’s husband he was also becoming a member of Andrew’s family and finally a recognised part of someone’s cherished family circle. In all his life Andrew had been the only person willing to overlook Max’s frightful background and have faith in him as an individual in his own right.
* * *
Boarding the Grayson private jet at Belém, Tia fingered the delicate gold crucifix Mother Sancha had given her and breathed in deep. She was a married woman but she didn’t feel the slightest bit married when her bridegroom had yet to even kiss her. As he took his seat, Tia glanced at Max from below her lashes, more and more convinced that he was no longer as attracted to her as he had once been. Why else would he be so distant?
‘I’d like to change into something more comfortable,’ Tia confided soon after take-off.
Max showed her into the sleeping compartment. She wanted to slap him for his air of courteous detachment. It was their wedding night, after all. Tia had a quick shower and, smothering a yawn that had crept up on her out of nowhere, she donned the filmy turquoise shorts and thin top she had chosen for the occasion. The occasion, she mocked herself, her soft mouth down-curving. Was she supposed to go out there and throw herself at him when he was probably working? March down the aisle stripping as she went? Laughter shook her slight frame and another yawn pulled at her lips. She lay back against the pillows, just for a moment to relax and regain her energy, and that was the last thing she knew.
Max swore under his breath when he found his bride fast asleep: a siren in turquoise silk, deliciously pert nipples visible through the fabric, long, pale, slender legs bare. His earthy visions of orgasmic sex were grounded. He wanted to fall on her like a starving man at a banquet because he was so hard he ached, but it had been a very long day and her rapturous reception in England would last even longer. In any case, he needed to learn control around Tia, Max reminded himself resolutely, still slightly unnerved by the way in which she had broken through his defences from the outset.
* * *
Sheathed in a hot-pink dress, jacket and perilously high heels, Tia joined Max for breakfast. ‘Where did you sleep last night?’ she asked him bluntly.
‘Right here. The seat reclines. I didn’t want to disturb you,’ Max responded smoothly.
‘A normal bridegroom would have shaken me awake,’ Tia murmured only half under her breath.
His dark golden eyes flared in surprise. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘So you should,’ Tia told him roundly, refusing to back down. ‘It was our wedding night and we spent it apart.’
‘Perhaps I was trying to be considerate.’
‘The next time you get the urge to be considerate, run it by me first,’ Tia advised waspishly.
Sardonic amusement flashed across Max’s lean, strong face. ‘I’m not the most democratic guy you’ll meet. I tend to take unilateral decisions.’
Tia frowned. ‘That won’t work for me. I believe that marriage should be an equal partnership.’
‘Duly noted, bella mia,’ Max drawled, more amused by that fiery note in her nature than persuaded to change either his outlook, in which marriage would make very little difference to his life, or his strategy in how best to integrate a wife into his daily schedule.
Teddy was parcelled off to a quarantine kennel to fulfil UK pet regulations. He would stay there for a few months until he had passed a final rabies test. Misty-eyed at that enforced parting, Tia clambered awkwardly into the limousine that collected them from the airport, displaying a long, slender stretch of creamy thigh.
‘You have fabulous legs,’ Max heard himself say, his attention riveted to that shapely expanse of pearly skin.
Tia smiled at him, honey-blonde hair falling across her cheek, because his phone had been ringing since they landed and he was finally ignoring it and paying heed to her instead. She had every respect for a man with a strong work ethic but not when it came between her and what she wanted. And what she wanted was a man who acted like a new husband. Circumstances might have dictated that they shelve any prospect of a honeymoon, but that didn’t mean it was all right for Max to behave as though they had been married for twenty years. She stretched out her legs, encouraging the hem of her dress to shimmy higher up over her thighs. It was hugely important for her to feel wanted by Max because nobody had ever really wanted or needed her before.
‘Are you trying to tempt me?’ Max intoned thickly.
Tia rested innocent blue eyes on him. ‘Why would I try to do that?’
And Max forgot his ringing phone and his strategy and how considerate he ought to be and simply grabbed her, tugging her across the car and down onto his lap. Long brown fingers darted below the hem to stroke up a satin-smooth inner thigh and rake across the taut stretch of her knickers, skimming her most tender flesh with his nails.
Thoroughly disconcerted, Tia gasped into the mouth that plunged hungrily down on hers. It was as if fireworks were detonating inside her. Her whole being was locked into the provocative exploration of his fingers. She was hot and damp and tender and she had never craved touch the way she did at that moment, her body pushing up into his hand, her thighs splayed, her nipples hard little buds that tingled.
‘As you see, I don’t need that much encouragement,’ Max growled into her ear as he yanked at the garment preventing him from reaching his objective. He traced the heart of her, finding her as aroused as he was. He eased his finger in while his thumb brushed back and forth across her most sensitive spot and before she knew where she was or what she was doing, Tia yelped and bucked. Her excitement peaked so fast she was electrified and she arched and sobbed with intoxicated pleasure as the thunderous waves of release crashed through her entire body.
‘And neither, it seems, do you,’ Max declared, treating her to a wickedly appreciative appraisal that shot even more colour into her flustered face.
Tia was stunned by what had just happened between them. Within minutes excitement had sent her body racing from zero to sixty. With a trembling hand she retrieved her underwear but dug it into her bag, intensely aware that while she was satisfied, he was not. She slid closer, small fingers smoothing uncertainly over a lean, muscular thigh, awesomely conscious of what was concealed below his trousers.
Max caught her hand in his. ‘Not here,’ he breathed in a roughened undertone, a little taken aback by her readiness to experiment but very much excited by the unexpected promise of that adventurous vibe. ‘Later, bella mia. I shouldn’t have touched you here in the car. We need more privacy.’
A giant blush of self-reproach engulfed Tia in what felt like a head-to-toe flood. She didn’t have the sexual confidence to argue with him but she didn’t like the fact that he had contrived to do what he wanted but was now denying her the same freedom. She felt controlled and that annoyed her. Perhaps she would have done it wrong, she told herself in consolation; perhaps she would have humiliated herself had she continued. Or perhaps her boldness had turned Max off. She stole a glance at him and discovered, with a faint little smile of feminine satisfaction tilting her full mouth, that that was not the problem.
Tia spoke little until the limo turned off the road down a long driveway edged by mature woodland.