A Forbidden Affair

“Your place is fine.”

Actually, anywhere but home was fine.

“Great.” He smiled, the action sending a sizzle of anticipation thrilling through her veins.

Sore feet and the prospect of a hangover were the furthest things from her mind as Nate took her hand and led her toward the exit. And if thoughts of “danger” or “risk” occurred to her, she brushed them aside. Tonight was a night for taking chances.

And besides, what was the worst that could happen?

Two

Nate caught Raoul’s eye as he led Nicole away, giving his friend a nod. He briefly saw Raoul’s answering wink before the expression on the other man’s face changed to one of shocked recognition. Nate fought back the smug smile that pulled at his lips.

In all the years he’d spent imagining how he would bring Charles Wilson to his knees, he’d never once imagined this scenario. But then, he’d never imagined taking Charles Wilson’s daughter in his arms and feeling such a searing sense of attraction, either. With such a ripe opportunity before him, he’d be a fool not to make the most of it—in every way possible. Still, he had to be careful. It wouldn’t do to put the cart before the horse. He could just as easily be calling a taxi to take Nicole home after their drink, but something inside him told him that was very unlikely.

He reached in his pocket and pressed the remote to the low-slung silver Maserati that waited for them at the curb.

“Very pretty car,” Nicole commented as he held open the passenger door for her and she folded her delicious long legs into the passenger bay.

“I like to travel in style,” he answered with a smile.

“I like that in a man,” she answered, her lips curving in response.

He just bet she did. She’d never wanted for anything and every part of her life had been to the highest standard. It stood to reason that Nicole Wilson’s demands of her men would be high. It was a gauntlet he relished picking up.

Unlike Nicole, Nate knew what it was like to struggle—his father had been a living example of the concept for most of Nate’s childhood. After Charles Wilson had kicked him out of the business they’d built together, it had taken years for Thomas to reestablish his credibility and build a company of his own. Nate had watched as his father poured his everything into his fledgling business in an attempt to provide something, anything, to the woman he’d accidentally gotten pregnant and the son their liaison had borne. And while Thomas had done his best to shield his only child, the experience had left its mark, resulting in two rules that Nate had lived his life by ever since. Rule one: be very careful who you trust.

Rule two: all’s fair in love and war.

Nate slid into the driver’s seat and started the car, maneuvering it smoothly toward Hobson Street and the entrance to the North Western motorway.

“You’re a Westie?” Nicole asked.

“After a fashion,” he answered. “I have a couple of places. Karekare is where I call home. You still want that drink at my place?”

His challenge hung between them in the dark interior of the car. He shot her a glance and saw her press her lips together and swallow before answering.

“I’m all good. I haven’t been out to Karekare in ages.”

“It’s still pretty much the same. Wild and beautiful.”

“Like you?” she asked, her eyes gleaming as she shot him a glance.

“I was thinking more along the lines of you.”

She laughed, the sound filling the cabin of his car and making his gut tighten in anticipation.

“Oh, you’re good. You know all the right things to say to salve a wounded soul.”

“Wounded?” he probed.

“Just family stuff. Too complicated and too boring to bring up now,” she hedged.

Was all no longer well in the Wilson household? Nate wondered. He’d made it his business to know what happened within Wilson Wines and he’d heard of the return of the prodigal son. Had Judd Wilson’s arrival served to uplift the mantel of golden child off Nicole’s shoulders?

“We have a long drive,” Nate pointed out as they entered the motorway and his car picked up speed. “I’m willing to listen if you want to talk about it.”

“Just the usual,” she said with an attempt at flippancy. An attempt that failed judging by the tone of her voice.

“Sounds serious,” he commented, keeping his eyes looking forward out the windscreen.

She sighed, the sound coming from somewhere deep down inside her. “I had a fight with my dad. At the risk of sounding clichéd, he doesn’t understand me.”

“Isn’t that a parental prerogative?”

She laughed, a short, sharp sound in total contrast to the last time she’d done so. “I suppose so. I just feel so used, you know? I have spent my whole life trying to measure up, to be the best daughter, the best workmate, the best—well, everything. And he thinks I should settle down and have babies! As if. You know, I think he values a paper clip on his desk more highly than he does me. I’ve spent the past five years helping him to keep our family business thriving and he tells me it’s a nice hobby for me.”

“I suppose this argument is what led you to the club tonight?”

“Too right it is. I couldn’t stay under his roof another second. Oh, no, wait. It’s not his roof anymore, nor mine. He’s gone and given it all to my dear long-lost brother.” She expelled an angry huff of air. “I’m sorry, I’m always letting my mouth run away with me. I shouldn’t have said that. Just pretend you didn’t hear that last bit, okay? I think we should change the subject. Talking about my family is just going to spoil my mood.”

“Whatever the lady wants, the lady gets,” Nate replied smoothly, even though his curiosity burned to know more about the Wilson family home situation.

“Now that’s more like it.” Nicole laughed in response. “A girl could get used to that attitude.”

“What, you mean that isn’t always the case?”

Nicole swiveled slightly in her seat and stared at him. “You say that as if you think you know me.”

“You misunderstand me,” he said smoothly. “I just would have thought that a woman like you would have no trouble getting what she wanted.”

She gave an inelegant snort, then change the subject. “Tell me about your home. Are you overlooking the beach?”

He nodded. Partly in concession to her change of subject and partly in answer to her question. “I’m on a slight rise looking out onto Union Bay.”

“I’ve always loved the West Coast. The black sand beaches, the crazy surf. There’s something so, I dunno, untamed, unpredictable about it all.”

“You surf?”

She shook her head. “No, always been too chicken.”

Somehow she didn’t strike him as the type of woman to be afraid of anything, and he said as much.

“Some boundaries I just never pushed. I grew up as an only child with a parent who could be pretty strict. Sometimes my dad took overprotectiveness a little far.”

“Only child? You mentioned a brother?”

“He lived with our mother up until recently. And how on earth did we get back on that awful topic again?”

She pushed a hand through her tangled long hair, exposing the sweep of her high cheekbones and the determined set of her jaw. His fingers itched to trace the fine bone structure, to taste the smooth skin that stretched over it. Nate tightened his grip once more, dragging his eyes back to the road and his mind back to the goal at hand. Yes, he wanted her. And yes, he had every intention of having her. But he couldn’t let himself lose control. He had to keep the endgame in mind.

“What about you?” she asked, turning in her seat to look at him. “What’s your family like?”

“Both my parents are gone. My mother while I was in university, my dad more recently. I never had any brothers or sisters.”

“So you’re all alone? Lucky you.” She gasped as if she realized the potentially pain-filled minefield she’d just trodden into. “I’m sorry, that was insensitive.”

“No, it’s okay. I miss them but I still count myself lucky to have had them both in my life. And my dad was a great role model. He worked his heart out, literally, to provide for us, and I got to repay that once I graduated and started working in the family firm.”

Nate deliberately kept things vague. He wouldn’t, for a moment, begin to elaborate on exactly why his father’s health took such a beating as he strived to build a new business from the ground up. Or who was responsible for that.

“So, surfing?” he asked, very deliberately changing the subject as he took the exit he needed that would eventually lead them out toward the beach.

“What about it?”

“Want to try it over the weekend?”

“This weekend?”

“Sure, why not stay. I have spare boards, spare wetsuits.”

“Spare clothes, underwear?” She gestured to her voluminous bag on the car floor. “It might be a big bag but it’s hardly Doctor Who’s TARDIS, you know.”

Nate laughed. Her sharp wit was refreshing and appealing at the same time.

“Let’s play it by ear then, hmm? Trust me?”

“Sure. If I didn’t think I could trust you, I wouldn’t be here.”

He reached across and took her hand, caressing the soft skin of her inner wrist with his thumb.

“Good.”

He let go and placed his fingers firmly back on the steering wheel. From the corner of his eye he saw that she stroked her wrist with the fingertips of her other hand. He allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. This night was going perfectly.

So why did she trust him, she wondered as she lapsed into silence and looked idly out the passenger window. It’s not as if she knew him. She’d acted purely on instinct, a fact that—despite her earlier assertion about being a chicken—had gotten her in trouble many a time before.

She gave herself a mental shake. She deserved this night. She had it coming to her after the crap she’d put up with at dinner on top of everything else this week. And everything in her body told her that this was the man to take all her problems away—at least for the night.

Her skin still tingled where he’d touched her, the sensation a delicious buzz of promise hovering just beneath the surface. Did he expect to make love to her tonight? Just the thought of it sent a thrill of longing through her body, making her womb clench tight on a swell of need that all but knocked the air from her lungs. She’d never had this intense a reaction to anyone before. Just sneaking a glance at his hands on the steering wheel, at the way his long fingers curled around the leather, made her want those fingers on her, in her. She pressed her thighs together and felt the swollen heated flesh at her core respond. Just thinking about him touching her was nearly enough to make her go off. What would it be like when he did?

She cleared her throat against the sudden anticipatory lump that lodged there.

“Everything okay?” Nate asked.

“Sure. It’s quite a drive from the city to your place. Do you work in town?”

“Yeah. I keep an apartment there for the nights I’m too tired to make it back out to Karekare, or if I have an early run to the airport or early meetings. I sleep better with the sounds of the sea and the rainforest around me, though.”

“Sounds idyllic.”

“You’ll see soon enough for yourself.”

She fell silent as they entered Scenic Drive, letting her body sway with the roll of the car as they wound on the narrow ribbon of road higher into the ranges, before winding back down again on the other side. She must have dozed off a little because the next thing she knew the Maserati was driving up a steep incline and pulling into a well-lit garage. A glance at her watch said it was almost 2:00 a.m. The drive had taken nearly an hour. She was miles from anyone she knew, miles from home. She should find the fact daunting—she didn’t. In fact, she welcomed it. Knew that with her choice to come home with Nate that she’d thrown her cares to the wind.

“Home sweet home,” Nate said, coming around to her side of the car and opening the door for her.

Nicole accepted his hand as he helped her out the car, her senses purring at his touch. To her surprise he didn’t let go, instead leading her to a doorway which, when opened, revealed a short set of stairs leading down into a massive open-plan living/dining and kitchen area.

The furnishings were comfortable but spoke plainly of their price in the elegantly simple designs and top-quality fabrics. A large, open fireplace, bordered with gray slate, occupied space on one wall. Even the artworks on the walls and small sculptures on the occasional shelving were beautiful and no doubt expensive. What he surrounded himself with said a lot about him and, so far, she liked it.

“Still feel like that drink?” Nate asked, lifting her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss against her knuckles.

“Sure, what are we having?”

“There’s champagne in the fridge, or we could have a liqueur.”

“A liqueur, I think.”

Something potent and heady, just like him, she thought privately. Nate let her hand go and moved toward a built-in sideboard on the other side of the room. She gravitated toward the wall of glass that faced the inky darkness outside. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows she could hear the sound of waves rolling heavily into shore.

In the reflection of the glass she saw Nate come to stand behind her, one arm coming around to offer her a small glass of golden liquid.

“A toast, I think,” he said, his breath warm in her hair and making her scalp prickle in awareness.

“To what in particular?” Nicole asked, accepting her glass and raising it toward Nate’s pale facsimile mirrored before her.

“To wounded souls, and the healing of them.”

She nodded and raised her glass to her lips, her taste buds reacting instantly to the smooth, sweet tang of aged malt whiskey. She allowed the liquid to stay on her tongue for a moment before swallowing.

“Now that is pretty fine,” she said, turning to face Nate.

Her breath caught in her chest as she saw the look in his eyes. Eyes that were only a shade darker than the deep gold fluid in their glasses.

“Only the best,” he answered before closing the distance between their faces.

Nicole felt her heart race in her chest. If this kiss was to be anything like the one at the club she couldn’t wait to experience it. Her lips parted expectantly, her gaze focused solely on the shape of his mouth, on the sheen left there by the liqueur. Her eyelids slid closed as she felt the warmth of him, as his lips took hers, as his tongue swept gently across the soft fullness of her lower lip.

He made a sound of appreciation. “Now that’s what I call the best.”

His lips pressed against hers once more and she curved into his body as one arm slid around her back and drew her closer to him. He was already aroused, a fact that triggered an insistent throb in her veins—a throb that went deeper into her center. She pressed her hips against him, feeling his length, his hardness. Feeling her body respond with heat and moisture and need.

She could taste the liqueur on his lips, on his tongue—its fusion of flavors intrinsically blended with his own. When he withdrew she felt herself move with him, toward him. Drawn as if by some magnetic force.

Nate put his liqueur glass on a shelf nearby before also taking hers and doing the same again. He then lifted his hands to her hair, pushing his fingers through the long mass until his fingertips massaged the back of her scalp, gently tilting her face to his once more. This time his kiss held a stronger taste of hunger, a promise of things to come.

Nicole tugged his shirt free of his waistband and shoved her hands underneath, her nails gently scoring his back as she traced the line of his spine, up, then down. Logic tickled at the back of her mind a final time, telling her she shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be doing this, but need and desire overcame logic with the same inexorable surge and release of the waves that echoed on the darkened shore outside.

He wanted her. She wanted him. It was basic and primal and it was all she needed for now. That, and a whole lot of satisfaction.

Nate’s hand shifted to the buttons on her jacket, swiftly loosening them from their button holes and pushing aside the fabric, exposing her to him. His hands were broad and warm as they swept around the curve of her waist before skimming her rib cage and moving up toward her bra.

He released her lips, bending his head lower, along her jaw line, down the sensitive cord of her neck and across her collarbone. She felt her breasts grow heavy. Her nipples beading tight, almost painfully so, behind her expensive lace-covered satin bra. When the tip of his tongue swept across one creamy swell she shuddered in response, the sensation of the point of his tongue electric as it traced a fine line across the curve of one breast. He awarded the same attention to her other breast, this time sending a sharp spear straight to her core.

His tongue followed the edge of her bra before dipping in the valley between. Her breath came in quick pants, her heart continuing to race in her chest. She felt his hand at her back, felt the freedom of the clasp of her bra being released, the weight of her breasts falling free as he slid her jacket off her shoulders and pushed her bra straps down to follow. With scant regard for the designer labels of both garments, Nate let them drop to the polished timber floor.

Nicole was beyond caring as his mouth captured one extended nipple, pulling it gently between his teeth, laving it with the heat of his tongue. Her legs began to tremble and she clung to him, near mindless with the pleasure his touch brought her. When his hands went to the waistband of her skirt she barely noticed, and then, with a slither of silk lining, her skirt joined her bra and jacket on the floor at her feet.

Dressed only in a scanty pair of black-and-gold panties and her high-heeled, black patent pumps she should have felt vulnerable, but as Nate pulled away, his eyes caressing every inch of her, she felt powerful. Needed. Wanted.

“Tell me what you want,” he demanded, his voice a low demand that vibrated across the space between them.

“I want you to touch me,” she replied softly.

“Show me where.”

She lifted her hands to her bare breasts, her fingers cupping their smooth fullness, lifting them slightly before her fingertips abraded the distended tips, sending another shudder through her.

“Here,” she said, her voice thicker now.

“And?”

One hand crept down, over her flat belly, and to the top band of her panties.

“Here.” Her voice trembled as she felt the heat that pooled between her legs, felt the moisture that awaited his touch, his possession.

“Show me what you like,” he said, his hand sliding over hers.

“This,” she replied, letting their hands push beneath the scrap of fabric.

She led his fingers toward her opening, dipping them in her wetness before sliding them back up toward the budded bundle of nerves that screamed for his touch. She circled the sensitive spot first with her fingers then with his, increasing the pressure then slowing things down before repeating the cycle once more.

“Keep touching yourself,” he commanded, even as he slid his fingers out from beneath her hand, dipping them lower until they played within the soft folds of her flesh.

He hooked his other arm around her, supporting her weight as he stepped in a little closer. She felt the fabric of his trousers against her bare legs—a fleeting awareness only before all concentration went when he stroked one finger inside her body, then another. Her muscles clenched against him as his fingertips glided in and out, caressing with careful and deliberate pressure against her inner walls.

Sensation swirled throughout her body, drenching her with heat and pleasure. The combination of both their touches filled her with an overpowering awareness of him, his strength, his power over her. She’d never felt anything this deep, this intense. Had never been this reckless.

Nate bent slightly, capturing one nipple with his mouth, drawing the sensitive bud into his heat, his wetness, and suckling hard. As he did so, she felt the pressure of his fingers inside her increase and with that subtle change, her body splintered apart on a wave of satisfaction so intense, so immeasurable, that her legs buckled beneath her and tiny pin pricks of light danced behind her eyelids.

Her whole body shook with the intensity of her orgasm as ripple after ripple of pleasure coursed through her. She felt Nate withdraw from inside her, even as her inner muscles continued to pull and tighten against him, heightening the sensations and sending her into another short, sharp paroxysm of bliss. He slid one hand behind her knees and, with his other arm still supporting her back, he swept her into his arms and strode across the open plan area toward a darkened room.

His bedroom, her shattered senses finally recognized as he placed her on the bedcovers. In the fractured blend of moon and starlight that shone through the massive picture window, she watched as he stripped away his clothing. Exposing every inch of his silver-gilded male beauty to her gaze. He reached for her feet, removing the shoes she only just now realized she still wore, then his hands slid up the length of her legs. When he reached her panties he slowly removed them from her before lowering himself to the bed and gently kneeing her legs apart, settling between them.

He leaned across her and ripped open a bedside cabinet drawer and removed a box of condoms. Extracting a packet he made short work of ripping away the wrapper and rolling the protection over his jutting erection. Her hands fluttered to the breadth of his shoulders, his skin burning beneath her touch. Despite his clear and evident arousal, his movements were smooth, controlled and deliberate as he positioned himself at her entrance and looked up to meet her eyes, even now giving her the chance to change her mind, to decide for herself what she wanted. In response, she instinctively tilted her pelvis to welcome his invasion.

Nate lowered his face to hers, his lips a heated seal against her own, his tongue gently probing her mouth even as he eased his length within her. She felt her body stretch to accommodate his size, felt an unmistakable quiver deep inside. Nicole lifted her hands to his head, her fingers lacing through his hair as she held him to her and kissed him back with all she had left in her.

Her body swept to aching life as he began to move, his thrusts powerful and deep, so deep it felt as if he touched her very soul before she plunged into the abyss of sensual gratification once more. In answer, his body stiffened, buried to the hilt, and a nearly stifled cry of release broke from him as he gave over to his own climax, shuddering as her body clenched rhythmically around him. His lips found hers again as he settled his weight on top of her, and she welcomed him. It was real, he was real. His heart thudded in his chest and hers beat a rapid tattoo in answer.

What they’d done together was something unsurpassed in her experience and finally, as she drifted to sleep, the cares and worries of her life wafted away into oblivion.

Three

As Nate woke, he slowly became aware that he’d fallen asleep not just on top of Nicole, but still inside her, as well. He silently castigated himself for his inconsiderate behavior as he carefully supported his weight without waking her.

He ignored the unfamiliar urge to settle closer to her rather than pulling away. After all, certain precautions had to be observed, he reminded himself. He reached between them, feeling for the edge of his condom and cursing when he couldn’t find it. He pulled farther away from her, his body instantly lamenting the lack of contact with her lush warmth. The condom was still inside her. In a moment of panic he wondered if she was on the Pill but that fear was quickly assuaged. A woman like Nicole wasn’t the type to leave things to chance. It was highly unlikely that pregnancy was something either of them needed to worry about just now.