Burn My Hart (The Notorious Harts 2)

I bite back a pithy retort. My hair is fine, though probably a little wild after Theo’s ministrations.

‘Fine, help yourself to a drink.’ I wave my hand towards the kitchen then clip back towards my bedroom, tempted to give Theo a piece of my mind. But when I walk in he’s nowhere to be seen. I click the door shut, my eyes scanning the room. Where is he? I stride into the en suite bathroom and reach for my hairbrush, gliding it over the soft waves a few times before Theo comes up behind me, pressing his body to mine. The touch sets off a thousand and one fireworks in my bloodstream.

But that’s nothing to when he catches the hem of my dress with his fingertips, pushing it up so his fingers can brush my sex, his palm cupping me and pulling me back against him. I swallow a moan, my eyes locking to his in the mirror.

‘No time,’ I mutter, dropping the brush into the sink with a clatter.

‘Wanna bet?’

Oh, help me. Theo loves a challenge. I know this about him, and I love this about him, but in this moment... ‘It’s my stepmother’s birthday,’ I murmur, making no effort to move away. ‘I can’t be late.’

His eyes flare with amusement. ‘You won’t be.’ His hand moves faster; a finger pushes inside of me. I buck backwards and moan. He laughs, spinning me around and kissing me, swallowing the sound. Pleasure ricochets through me, volcanic and urgent. A beautiful, hot delight that lashes my core and makes me tremble. I brace myself on the vanity as pleasure sears me, red-hot and fierce.

‘Charlotte?’ he murmurs into my mouth, his thumb padding my sex.

‘Long story.’ I find his lips. ‘You started this. Don’t you dare stop.’

‘Charlotte? Are you done?’ My brother’s voice is a very unwelcome intrusion. I rip my head away from Theo, but his grin is my undoing. I hold Theo’s eyes, lifting a hand to his shoulder, and shout towards the door, ‘Just a sec. I’m coming.’

And I am. Seconds later, I’m spiralling completely out of control, his mouth swallowing my frantic cries, his hand holding me together and driving me apart at the same time. My fingers are in his hair, tangled in its length, and then, almost as soon as I’ve crested over that tsunami of sensation, he’s pulling away, rearranging my dress around my thighs. ‘It’s good to know we can add quickies to our repertoire.’

My breath is rushed. ‘For sure. Next time you have five minutes between meetings, call me.’

‘Will do. Charlotte,’ he adds as an afterthought, a teasing smile on his face. But there’s something in his eyes, a seriousness, a question I don’t want to answer. A question he doesn’t really want to ask—because we don’t do that. We don’t really talk about anything other than how much we want each other, and that suits us both.

‘Only my brother calls me that.’ I poke my tongue out. ‘See you soon.’

I feel his eyes on me as I slip from the room and knowing he’s watching me brings a huge smile to my face

, just like always.

* * *

I look around the en suite bathroom with curiosity. It’s nothing out of the ordinary. Toiletries, make-up, and a lingering scent of her that makes me want to go out into her kitchen and announce to her brother that actually she won’t be coming with him at all because she and I aren’t done yet.

We didn’t plan to keep seeing each other for so long. She’s busy, I’m busy, and sometimes our schedules are such that we can’t manage to catch up as often as we’d like. But that’s the best part of this no-strings situation. It’s no big deal. There’s never any drama with Asha. We agreed to that from the start, and for the last six months it’s been working perfectly. In fact, I’d have to say I think I’ve cracked the code for the perfect relationship. Keep it physical and keep it light.

That’s it.

Et voilà.

I wonder whether, if my dad had worked this out, he might not have married every woman he slept with. Briefly, my chest tightens, as it always does when I think of my father. No, that’s not right. He’s the man who gave my mother sperm but he was never really much of a dad. Not to me, not to Jagger, and definitely not to Holden. Darkness descends for a moment and I close my eyes, the hatred I feel for him rushing through me.

Asha’s muffled voice brings me gratefully back to the present. I can hear their voices but not clearly enough to know what they’re saying. Curiosity has me moving closer to the door.

‘I organised the diamond necklace,’ Asha is saying, her eyes sliding to the door so she sees me and I grin. She blanches and jerks her head back to her brother. His back is to me, so I only have the impression of a tall, slim man dressed in a dark tuxedo.

‘She’ll love it. What’s happening with Angel Pie?’

Angel Pie? I frown.

‘We’re just waiting on FDA approval for the mascara. The packaging is almost finalised—we’re down to two box designs. Market testing is showing amazing strengths across the whole product line.’

The brother nods. ‘You’re happy with it?’

‘Are you kidding?’ Asha’s face lights up. My gut punches. She’s so gorgeous. ‘I’ve only been working on this for four years.’

Her brother nods again, slower. ‘Good. I’m proud of you, Char.’