Millionaire's Woman

‘I’ve dreamed of doing this every hour of every damn night.’ He bent his head again to tease one corner of her mouth with his tongue, before kissing her cheek, her jawline, then forging a burning trail to her ear.

‘Say you’ve missed me,’ he murmured, his breath in her ear making her shiver with delicious anticipation. ‘Say it.’

‘I’ve missed you.’ She arched against him, her body saying it too. ‘So much.’

He shifted her in his arms, his hands running over her soft curves and cupping the fullness of her breasts through the soft fabric of her top. She gasped against him and he smiled, a slow, masculine smile that made her toes curl. ‘You feel great,’ he said very softly. ‘You taste great. You are great.’

‘So are you.’

He chuckled into her mouth. ‘Not good enough. You’ve got to give your own accolades, not steal mine.’

Her eyes were heavy, her mouth swollen with his kisses. ‘You’re amazing,’ she murmured dazedly. ‘Will that do?’

‘For starters.’ He shifted her in his arms but then, instead of continuing to make love to her, he reached down and picked up the discarded flowers. ‘Put them in water before we go,’ he said quietly.

If she hadn’t noticed his hand shaking slightly she would have thought he was totally in control, despite the hard ridge of his arousal which had been forged against her only seconds before. The sight was comforting; she was trem bling so much she knew he must see it. She took the flowers without saying anything, walking with them into the kitchen where she buried her hot face in the fragrant freesias and soft white roses. She drank in their perfume, not thinking, not allowing any thought to come into her mind. Then she filled a vase with cool water and put the bouquet in it just as it was. She would arrange them properly when she came back.

Because she was going. She was going to have this one weekend if nothing else, she told herself, still a little dazed and numbed by the powerful emotions which had been released between them. It was probably the most stupid thing she would ever do in her life, a guarantee of emotional suicide at some point in the future, but suddenly she didn’t care. He was here, here with her, and for the moment that was enough.

‘Where are we going?’

They had been travelling for some miles before Cory asked the question, her voice low and husky. She was still registering the sensations which had taken her over at the flat—the way their bodies had fitted together, the pleasure given and received, the wonder of the world of passion and need and hot desire he’d taken her into.

‘Guess.’ He gave her a quick smile. ‘You know about this place but you’ve never been there.’

‘That applies to more parts of Britain than it should.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘I’m not exactly a seasoned traveller.’ She kept her eyes on him as she spoke although his gaze had returned to the road through the windscreen. He looked hard and dangerous and too sexy by far. He was dressed more casually than usual and she knew he must have gone to the flat before coming to see her. His formal suits or tailored trousers had been replaced by well-washed black jeans, tight across the hips, and his open-necked black denim shirt emphasised his flagrant masculinity more than any silk shirt could have done.

Suddenly it dawned on her. ‘We’re going to your home,’ she said. ‘The house in Barnstaple.’

‘Quite right.’ He reached for her hand and brought it up to his mouth, kissing her knuckles. ‘I thought it was about time you saw where I live.’

‘You live in your flat.’

‘No.’ The blue eyes flashed her way for a moment. ‘I only occupy that. There’s a difference.’

She stared at the dark profile. He’d shaved recently; there was a tiny nick on his chin where he’d cut himself. The rush of feeling this produced was scary.

‘Besides which I thought you might like to meet a few of

the family,’ he continued casually.

‘Your family?’

‘I was thinking of the one next door,’ he said with gentle sarcasm. ‘Of course my family. Why? Does that bother you? They’re really quite normal.’

Cory didn’t know what to say. She wanted to ask if he usually took his girlfriends home to meet his family but she didn’t dare. Of course it was highly likely that he did, she warned herself quickly when her treacherous heart did a few cartwheels.

‘It seemed a good time with my mother’s birthday being on Sunday,’ he added.

‘Your mother’s birthday?’ She sat bolt upright in her seat, all the nice floaty sensations that had stayed with her from the episode at the flat gone in a moment. ‘It’s your mother’s birthday and you didn’t tell me? I haven’t got a card or a gift for her.’

‘She won’t be expecting one,’ he said with typical male denseness regarding the niceties of such occasions.

‘Of course she will.’ Cory was horrified. ‘Have you bought her anything?’

‘I’ll get something tomorrow,’ he said calmly, his voice stating there was no need to get in a panic. ‘When I’ve asked her what she wants. Something for the house, maybe.’

Men! Cory shut her eyes for a moment. ‘A nice new vacuum cleaner, perhaps?’