Her heart was pounding. “Kind of,” she said simply. The words he’d said only moments earlier were warming her heart and softening her soul. How could she ruin it? How could she confess the truth and risk that he’d never look at her in quite the same way? How could she risk that he’d ask her to leave immediately?
“Do you know the man?”
“The man?” She prompted, but her stomach was rolling with anxiety.
“That she’s sleeping with.”
“Oh.” She nodded. “He’s the husband of … a friend of ours.”
“That makes it even worse. It is a huge betrayal. Do you think the couple will make it?”
“The couple? As in the guy and his wife?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I think they both want to. He wants to get into politics. I think he’d fear a divorce would look bad.”
“Not half as bad as a disgruntled wife one day spilling her stories to the tabloids. Or worse, a disgruntled ex-lover,” Thad said with a truth Saphire hadn’t appreciated.
“Anita would never do that,” she said after a moment too long.
“You probably did not believe her capable of sleeping with the husband of a friend, either.”
“Good point.”
“You also have no idea if Anita is his first mistress. In my experience, men who cheat do it often and without much compunction for the poor wife.” He stroked her hair. “It makes no sense to me.”
“What doesn’t?”
“Why marry at all if you’ve no interest in monogamy?”
Guilt was now controlling her heartbeat. “You don’t think that … sometimes stuff just happens?”
“No.” He dropped his lips to her shoulder and kissed the smooth flesh tenderly. “I do not. It is one of the reasons I have never sought a relationship that went beyond easy, relaxed sex.”
Her heart pricked. “Why?”
“Because. I am not a man to be tied into marriage. I like to know that I can leave when I become bored of a woman. I don’t crave the emotional stability of a long-term relationship.”
Saphire could have pulled her hair from her head. Frustration gnawed at her belly. “Why does that bother me?” She mused aloud, turning around a little in his arms so that she could see his expression.
His dark eyes ran over her face, trying to comprehend her question. Finally, he shrugged. “It shouldn’t. You are the one who’s insisted on those exact same restrictions for us.”
And if I hadn’t? She didn’t ask the question because the answer scared the hell out of her.
“This is too serious,” she murmured. His lips were parted, and so close to hers. Just an inch away. She covered the distance easily and tasted his mouth. As always, the spell began to wrap around them, enslaving her to its wonderment.
“This is better,” she grinned, her fingers pushing at his button and zipper. She pulled him from his pants with relief and straddled him. She didn’t bother to remove her underwear, she simply slid them aside so that she could welcome him inside. She groaned as she felt his length expand inside of her. He was so damned hard and strong. She dropped her cheek to his shoulder, staring out at the glistening moonlit ocean as he rocked in time with the boat, slowly building her to an inevitable climax.
“This is the best,” he said finally, as she began to tremble arms. “I have no idea why you fight it.”
The words were barbs in her sensual fog, for how truly accurate they were. Of course he had no idea why she was fighting the truth of what they were becoming. Because she knew. She was falling in love and she had no right to.
She kept her eyes averted, waiting for her breath to steady and her insides to calm. But she was alive in a feverish way. She tilted her pelvis back, wanting to give him the same pleasure she’d felt. She reached behind her and lifted one of the champagne flutes then held it suspended over his lips.
It trickled in, filling his mouth, and then she kissed him, tasting it and chasing any droplets that escaped down his chin, to his torso. Only a stupid shirt was concealing his chest and she ached to touch and taste him. She pulled at it fiercely with an animalism that made him laugh. The buttons popped and still she moved her hips, stirring his desire and evoking a type of insanity in his gut.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, dropping her mouth to lash one of his hair-roughened nipples with her tongue. He growled and fisted her hair at its nape, his body on the brink of a rapturous explosion if she didn’t slow down. But Saphire knew exactly what Thad liked by then.
She lifted her mouth and flicked the pulse point at the base of his neck and then moved her mouth higher, to his earlobe. While she sucked it between her teeth she let one hand tease his nipple and all the while she rocked back and forth, stroking him and feeling him massage her most sensitive nerve-endings.
Another orgasm was building for Saphire. But she wanted him to ride with her; she wanted them to tip over the edge together. “I want you to … I want us to… I want to feel you …”
He nodded, understanding completely. He bucked forward, tipping her onto her side without breaking their connection, and then he moved inside of her. Desperation was rampant. He ripped at her shirt, just as she had done, until the buttons popped. He groaned when the belt stayed put, as he had to unfasten it before he could do what he wanted to do. Finally though, she lay naked beneath him and a blanket of stars on the deck of his boat.
“That’s two of your shirts we’ve just ruined,” she said breathlessly.
He scooped the champagne from where she’d placed the flute and dribbled it over her chest. “I have more,” he promised, as she bucked hard towards him. The sensation of ice-cold liquid over her boiling hot body was too much to bear.
“Champagne or shirts?” She groaned, writhing against the picnic blanket as she almost felt that she might pass out.
“Both.” He dropped his mouth to her chest and sucked some of the liquid from her. She shuddered as he drove into her fast, reminding her (as if she needed it) that his body was her master. “Close your eyes,” he said throatily. She did as he said without hesitation.
“Bloody hell!” She swore, when she felt something boiling hot trickling between her breasts. But the pain almost immediately gave way to pleasure, and she felt the muscles of her core squeeze him more tightly. “What was that?”
His black eyes were hooded as they studied her. “Wax,” he ran a finger down her middle, spreading the still-soft material further. “If I could I would cast your whole body so that I could remember every tiny piece of you.”
It was too erotic. She dug her fingers into his shoulders and squeezed her eyes.
“Do you like it?” He murmured, dropping his mouth to her stomach and tasting more champagne from her soft skin.
She nodded. “A lot.”
He rewarded her by bucking further forward, deep and hard. She cried out and lifted her legs to allow him greater access. God, he would never tire of this. He would certainly never feel that he was finished with her.
He captured one of her feet and brought it to his mouth. He sucked her toe; it tasted like the ocean. It made him smile.
“Saphire, you are a dream,” he said seriously. “Have I gone mad? Are you my fantasy? Have I made you from my dreams?”
She laughed and shook her head at the same time. “Stop,” she begged. “Stop being so wonderful.” She didn’t deserve it. “But don’t stop this.” She reached between her legs and caught what she could of his arousal. “Please don’t ever stop this.”
“A week,” he reminded her as though the words weren’t a kind of death sentence. He pushed deeper so that, no longer able to find purchase on his body, she had to drop her hands to her side. He reached for the candle and this time, he dropped the smallest amount over her nipple. She moaned as the sensation seemed to deepen everything else he was doing to her body.
“It’s almost too much.” The words were torn from her soul; she was tormented.
“Tell m
e if it is,” he murmured.
“No,” she assured him. “I want more.” And she pushed herself up, thrusting her other nipple closer towards him.
He laughed softly. “You’re greedy.”
She nodded. “Please.”
He dropped more wax over her breasts, this time, running a line from her nipple across the valley to the next pink peak. She was hyperventilating, her cheeks glowing, her eyes shimmering, and her whole body covered in goosebumps.
As the wax set, he transferred his focus to the nipple with the hardest wax and flicked it with his forefinger. She startled, then laughed a little shakily. “It’s too good.”
“No such thing,” he promised, trickling champagne over the wax, so that the temperature contrast set her nerves on edge. And so quietly that later she would doubt he’d even whispered the perfect words, he said, Stay and I’ll show you.
Then, he moved into her, fast, slow, gently and hard. He pushed her until her cries filled the empty ocean and together, they reached for a dramatic crescendo. And, as if their minds had joined together, they shared the same thought at the same time.
How can I walk away from this?
6
“It’s delicious,” she said, but her words were soft. She was shaken to the core by what they’d just done. From the blandest, most boring sex-life to this? Kinky, candle-wax dripping, champagne sipping hotter-than-hot love-making beneath a perfect star-studded sky on this gorgeous Greek tycoon’s yacht? Saphire was on overdrive.
She pulled the blanket more tightly around her shoulders but Thad mistook the involuntary shiver for coldness. “Would you prefer to go down below?”
She shook her head. Her smile was a shadow. “This is fine. Perfect. Better than perfect,” she promised.
Her eyes were wide like saucers in her pretty face. He watched as she lifted another piece of chicken souvlaki to her lips and chewed it thoughtfully. She swallowed and then toyed with her napkin, making a pretense of wiping her fingers.
“Do you do this often, Mr Konstanides?” She asked in the same soft tone she’d used since they’d tumbled apart, breathing ragged, souls temporarily spent.
“Do what, exactly? Eat on the boat? Every time I take her out,” he grinned, deliberately misunderstanding. “Are you not familiar with my appetites by now?”
To Thad, life was pretty damned great in that moment. He had no concept of the maelstrom of tormented doubts that singed the sides of her brain. He couldn’t have understood the feeling of guilt that dogged her every step.
“Intimately,” she promised, undertaking a detailed inspection of his toned, muscular figure.
“Touché.”
“I meant sex. Like this.” Her cheeks flushed. “With candle wax and champagne baths.”
He laughed. “A champagne bath would be a fine idea.”
“Kind of sticky, though,” she pointed out.
“That’s what the ocean is for.”
She shook her head. “I mean it, MK. You’re not answering my question.”
He pushed up on one elbow. “Because I do not see why it matters.”
“Well,” she shrugged inside the blanket. “Can I tell you something?”
“Anything,” he promised, leaning forward.
“You won’t laugh?” A frown lurked in the depths of her eyes. “Or judge me?” She could see that he was stifling a laugh and so she shook her head. “Forget it. It’s stupid.”
“No, no,” he reached out and put a hand on her knee. She felt electricity arc through her instantly. “Go on. I have my serious face on.”
If Saphire hadn’t been so anxious, she would have had to stifle a giggle of her own. But she dropped her eyes to the buffet of food Thaddeus had arranged to be waiting on the boat.
“Before you, I’d only ever been with one other guy.” She kept her eyes averted so didn’t see the darkening of his expression.
“One other guy?” He repeated, scanning her face to see the hint of humor. He didn’t get the joke.
“Yes. One man. Then you. And with him, it was … nothing like this. So what I’m asking, and seriously wishing I’d thought better of asking, is if this is normal?”
Desire, longing, affection, need, adoration. It all mingled in his chest in one powerful wrench of emotion.
The words were grated from his throat. “No, Saphire. It’s not normal.”
She swallowed. “I had no idea my body could …”
“I know.” He moved to crouch before her. She was afraid. It was so obvious now. The sensual awakening, while intense and wonderful, had also probably scared the hell out of her.
“I have been with many women.” Her eyes flew to his and he shook his head, lifting her chin to bring her lips nearer to his. “But what we share goes beyond it. We keep saying it’s just sex. Great sex.” He kissed her gently. “It’s so much more than that.”
She felt tears threatening and she blinked them back. “It can’t be.”
He tamped down on his frustration. He had a week. A week with Saphire and all the feelings she was incapable of controlling. Beyond that, who knew? The future was never set in stone. “Who is this other man you were with?”
“That doesn’t matter,” she said swiftly. Too swiftly, only Thad missed the obvious sign that he’d said something wrong.
“Fine. Why only one man? You are twenty six and so sexy. You must have had lots of men in your life.”
She shook her head.
“How can that be?” He marveled, gripping her face on both sides and staring down at her.
She let out a small sound of pleasure and pushed up to her knees, bringing her body closer to his. “I think this is my favorite moment.”
“Of the night?”
“Of my life,” she responded seriously, to hell with the consequences. How could she fight what they were anymore?
She’d set out to balance the ledger-sheet of harm in her marriage, in the hope that she could return to her husband, and instead she’d fallen in love with the revenge-sex guy.
It was stupid, and crazy and totally reckless. But how could she care?
He stood, pulling her with him.
“Dance with me.”
“There’s no music,” she said on a shaking laugh.
“Isn’t there?” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Listen closely.” And he held her tight, swaying his hips slowly.
He was right. Music was everywhere. The lapping of the water against the boat, the gentle rustle of the wind, and the steady thumping of their hearts. She pressed her head to his chest and refused to think about tomorrow.
Only, of course, tomorrow had a way of rearing its head, regardless of how unwanted it was.
It crested over the bow of the boat, waking them gently with its golden warmth. Saphire stirred first, lifting her arms over her eyes and blinking in the unfamiliar surrounds.
Then, she spied the by-now extinguished candles and the empty bottle of champagne and it all came rushing back to her. A smile touched her lips as she recalled dancing until her eyes were drowsy and her legs could hardly hold her. He’d cradled her to his chest then, and laid her down on the blanket as though she were some kind of fragile porcelain figurine.
He had stroked her hair until she’d fallen asleep, and then he’d held her to his chest, so that they slept curled together.
It had been a night out of time; a fantasy in so many ways.
Which made the reality of the next morning so, so much worse.
“Hey,” his voice was thick. He blinked down at her and smiled. “Good morning.”
“Hi.” Her heart was pounding with love and anxiety, guilt and regret.
Thad didn’t notice. “I completely forgot last night that I had arranged a surprise for you.”
“Oh?” She swallowed. Her future was confusing the hell out of her. Jordan was her husband! She’d married him in good faith. This was an aberration and she needed to end it. Didn’t she?
He gripped her hand and pulled her to standing.
The boat was enormous, but she’d seen barely any of it. Thad pushed a pair of glass doors open; they led to a crisp white staircase. He went first, leading the way downstairs, into an open, airy hallway.
“This feels way more like a gorgeous hotel than anything else,” she remarked, observing the wood paneling and state-of-the-art appliances.
“That was the plan,” he smiled over his shoulder. “In here.” He pushed into a bedroom that featured a king-size bed in its center. “We could have slept down here,” she teased. Her eyes were drawn then to the bags that littered the top of the quilt.
He looked at her expectantly.
“What is it?” She asked, not understanding the significance.
“When my driver picked up our dinner from Athens last night I had him collect some clothes for you. As much as I love seeing you get creative with my shirts and belts, I thought you might appreciate some actual garments.”
His thoughtfulness made her heart flip over. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to,” he assured her. “I want you to be comfortable. I should have arranged it sooner, only you kept me so distracted…”
She nodded. It was too much. Everything was hurting, most of all her heart.
“Thank you.” She smiled up at him, but it was over-bright; she felt it stretch her cheeks. “Do you mind giving me a moment to try something on?”
He didn’t sense the undertone of panic. “I’ll make coffee.” He lifted a hand to her cheek. “Thank you for last night.”
A lump welled in her throat. It was Saphire who wanted to thank him, but she didn’t trust herself to speak. So she nodded and spun away from him, hoping to keep a lid on her emotions until he left.
When she heard the door click softly in place she sat onto the edge of the bed and buried her head into her hands.
What a mess! She couldn’t see a way out that wouldn’t end in disaster for someone. Could she stick with her original plan? Could she stay with him until he left for Paris and then return to Jordan? Could she go back to the man she had thought she loved and tell him, ‘Ha, ha, I cheated too!’
And whatever she did, how could she live with herself?