‘Love does the strangest things to you, though,’ he said, fixing her with those blue eyes.
‘How hard can it be finding a Peter who socialises with James Swann?’ she said, thinking out loud.
‘There’ll be hundreds of Peters in that rich corporate set.’
‘How many will have a good friend who committed suicide?’ She took a swig of her wine. ‘I definitely need to get to James Swann’s party.’
‘Let’s discuss that when we get back to London, because right now I don’t want to think about much at all.’ Sam picked up the bottle. ‘Another?’
Why the hell not? thought Anna, holding up her glass.
‘I’m sorry I slept with Katie Grey,’ Sam said quietly.
‘I bet you are,’ said Anna. ‘Your girlfriend leaves you, your career implodes, and now your
lawyer’s dragging you into some murder mystery halfway around the world.’
He shook his head.
‘My career will be fine. Jess and I should have finished months ago, and I’ve been to worse places than this amazing houseboat in the middle of Paradise.’
‘Nothing to worry about then.’
‘Except I don’t want you to think badly of me for being unfaithful to my fiancée and sleeping with a prostitute.’
He looked at her, his confidence gone. He seemed nervous, almost bashful.
‘It doesn’t matter what I think, does it?’
‘It does,’ he said. ‘Do you think I’m a sleazeball?’
She couldn’t help but laugh.
‘Maybe. A little bit. Before. But I think I know you a lot better now.’
‘Good.’ He smiled. ‘You know Mike has spent the last month persuading me to downsize and simplify my life. How come it’s suddenly got more complicated now that you’re in it?’
A bolt of excitement rushed down her spine.
Sam reached over and touched her fingers then stretched forward to brush her lips with his. His kiss was slow and seductive. In the creamy moonlight, Anna felt like a leading lady in some sweeping fifties romance. Her brain felt dizzy. Desperately she tried to recall the solicitor’s code of conduct. Was there anything in it that prohibited a sexual relationship between lawyer and client? She wasn’t sure, but right now she was certain of nothing except the sensation of his soft lips crashing against hers and the swell of desire that curled between her thighs.
He took her hand and led her up the stairs to her bedroom on the mezzanine platform overlooking the backwaters. They were not even in the room before he had pulled off his T-shirt. Rule Three, Rule Three, a little voice told her. Did Rule Three forbid sex between lawyer and client? Not expressly, but it didn’t matter. Her resistance had evaporated.
They tugged at each other’s clothes, kissing, tasting, fingers through hair, lips against skin. And then they were naked, her nervousness forgotten as they tumbled back on to the huge bed, the river breeze washing over them but doing little to cool their need.
Laid back on the mattress, Anna’s eyes fluttered closed. Her thighs parted instinctively and Sam knelt between them, lowering himself to plant soft, tender kisses on her lips and neck. She groaned as his tongue moved south. He traced a circle around her swollen nipple, then took it in his mouth, sucking sweetly until his lips moved lower, over the curve of her belly, through her soft scrub of pubic hair. Gasping, she grabbed his hair to push him deeper. She cried out as his tongue lapped her clitoris; hard, firm strokes that sent an arrow of lust directly to her belly.
Don’t climax now, don’t, she told herself, wanting this extreme sensation never to stop. His mouth, damp and musky, returned to hers, and as his hand parted her legs wider still, he pressed his weight against her, entering her slowly until he filled her completely, their bodies melded into one. They moved in time, slow at first and then faster, more urgent. ‘Don’t stop,’ she pleaded, as they rolled over and she pushed herself up so she was straddling him. Her hips rocked against his, her muscles squeezing around him, every nerve ending jump-started to life, waves of pleasure building to a sharp, shivering crescendo. For so long she had denied herself, for so long she had convinced herself that sex was overrated, but as her body surrendered to a sweet, potent orgasm, her head tipped back, and crying out in screams of unfettered joy, she knew how glad she was to be back in business.
48
‘You looked harassed, so I made you a coffee.’
Matt stood at the door of Anna Kennedy’s office, holding two mugs.
She glanced up from her computer, still typing furiously.
‘Strong and black, I hope,’ she said as he put the cup down next to her keyboard. Now that she mentioned it, he could see that she was tired too: dark rings under her eyes.