Untamed Bachelors

With arrangements to view a couple of places, he disconnected. He’d give her a call later, make sure everything was okay. Meanwhile there was a problem at one of the Sydney sites that couldn’t wait. He’d already made arrangements to fly there. Business was his priority, always had been—he’d see Ellie Tuesday.

Days away. He frowned. Memories of last night played over and over in his mind. How smooth and soft her skin felt against his when she’d wrapped her legs around him. Her impatient moans of passion against his ear. Her slick hot heat as he’d plunged inside her. She’d been so responsive, so satisfying. The best sex ever. From her response she thought so too.

Why wait for Tuesday?

Swiping up his keys, he headed out into the drab winter’s day.

‘Matt.’ Ellie pulled her door wider, staring at the man who’d left less than an hour ago. ‘Did you forget something?’

‘As a matter of fact…’ He stepped in, closing the door behind him and pulled her close, crushing her breasts against his chest and covering her mouth with his.

If she’d thought he’d changed his mind after last night, this hot, hard doubt-melting kiss proved her wrong. He lifted his head. ‘It doesn’t have to be one night, Ellie,’ he murmured, cruising his hands up her back.

‘What are you saying?’ As if she didn’t know.

As if she could think of the right response…the sensible response. After all, she’d heard him telling Belle not to get any romantic ideas…and despite their mutual understanding—that last night was one night and one night only—it had hurt. More than it should.

‘We could spend a few more days…and nights…enjoying getting to know each other better.’

She felt the demand in his fingers and stared up into impatient dark eyes. Less than twelve hours ago she’d seen passion burning bright in those eyes. It was still there, dark and smouldering. One move, one spark, and they’d ignite.

She wanted to burn like that with him again.

But a few days, then what? He was talking about a few hours of pleasure between the sheets with maybe the odd candlelit dinner thrown in. And when put like that…was she really considering turning him down?

But something inside her cramped and twisted and she stepped back. Did she want to relive that familiar pain of being left behind when he moved on? To slice open those old wounds around her heart which had never completely healed?

He was suggesting a fling.

She didn’t do flings. And she didn’t do them for very good reasons.

She continued to back away until her backside hit the edge of the kitchen table. ‘I know what you’re asking.’ And you want to put a time limit on it. ‘Forget it. I enjoyed last night, and I would be lying to pretend otherwise, but—’

His mouth swooped down on hers again, cutting off her protests. His beautiful, beguiling, bewitching mouth. Tormenting her with all kinds of sweet temptation, promising all manner of dreamy delights. Delights he’d barely begun to show her last night, delights she’d barely begun to discover.

She wanted more. And he gave her more, with mouth and tongue, low-throated murmurs and clever hands. Not the blazing brush fire this time, but a hot steady burn, no less powerful in its intensity.

When he lifted his head and looked straight and clear into her eyes, she found herself clinging to his sweatshirt for support. Her head was spinning, her heart trying to catch up.

‘It was good between us last night,’ he murmured. ‘I want to pursue it. So do you.’

She closed her eyes, denying it, denying him. Denying herself. ‘No.’

‘Look me dead in the eye and tell me you don’t want to continue what we started.’

He cupped her jaw, thumbs whisking over her lips, and her brain shut down. ‘I don’t want you to—’ one hand skimmed down the centre of her body from neck to navel, down ‘—to…stop,’ she finished on a moan. She tried to move away again, but the table prevented her and it seemed her body had a will of its own. ‘I can’t think when you do that…’

‘Then look at me, be honest and tell me you don’t want me.’ The trace of his lips over her chin and down the side of her neck had her arching backwards over the table, his hand warm against her lower belly. Her feminine places swelled and throbbed. One touch and she was melting…

Her eyes drifted open. ‘This is crazy.’

‘I agree.’

He lifted his head, watched her with a grin that promised everything she wanted if only she had the courage to take it for however long it lasted.

He wiggled his brows. ‘Why don’t we get crazy together?’

She felt her own lips kick up at the corners. ‘You think it’d help? I mean…help with getting it out of our systems. Like you said.’ Sometime. She waved a vague hand; she couldn’t remember when he’d said it, only that he had. Which meant he wanted to get naked with her to scratch that pesky clichéd itch. Temporary diversion. Lust.

‘We could give it another try right now…’ He shifted closer, easing himself between her thighs.

‘Uh-uh. Not until we make a few things clear.’ Pushing him away, she straightened, her mind awhirl. Did she dare to risk setting herself up for the fall which would inevitably occur? For starters, ‘If I change my mind, you respect that, no questions asked.’

He nodded. ‘You got it.’

‘And while we’re being crazy together, you’re not being crazy with anyone else.’

‘Ellie, I—’

She shook her head. ‘Never. Ever. I won’t tolerate it.’ She could feel herself shaking, her voice catching, remembering Heath’s betrayal. While he’d made merry with her, he’d had a fiancée he’d forgotten to tell her about. ‘I’ll not—’

‘Ellie, calm down. I’m not asking for undying love and commitment. All I’m asking is a few days of mutual enjoyment. Just you and me.’

‘A few days.’ She stared up at him, unable to believe he’d ask it, unable to believe she’d even consider it, let alone agree to it.

‘It’ll be okay, Ellie.’ He searched her gaze for the longest time, then touched her cheek with a light finger. It was almost as if he knew she’d been hurt before, and his perception and understanding did strange things to her insides, quieting the shrill questions and fears, beckoning to her like a warm quilt on a cold night.

Still, she rubbed the tiny shiver from her arms that his touch invoked. ‘I know it will.’ She’d make sure of it.

He nodded, taking her reply as acceptance. ‘I need to return to Sydney for work for a couple of days. Come with me.’

She felt her jaw drop. ‘To Sydney? What about Belle?’

He smiled. ‘I happen to know she’d approve.’

‘I don’t know that she would—what about her kitchen garden? Thanks to the weather, it’s behind schedule. She’s trusting me to get on with the job in her absence.’

‘You’re not due to work again until next week. I’ve organised the company jet to be ready at three-thirty and booked a table for dinner tonight at the Sydney Tower Restaurant.’

Company jet. Dinner in Sydney.

And his undivided attention.

An incredulous laugh bubbled up. She was standing here in her dim, decrepit one-room apartment, being propositioned by an irresistible millionaire who’d already planned the entire thing. It was all moving so fast she felt as if she was being whisked up to the top of that tower already. ‘Mr Super Confident,’ she murmured.

‘The only way to make things happen.’

How was she going to keep up with him? ‘I don’t have anything suitable to wear to such an up-market restaurant, and didn’t you say you had to work?’

‘Not till tomorrow. And you’ll look gorgeous, whatever you wear.’

Oh, yeah? He hadn’t seen her wardrobe. ‘You work on a Sunday?’

‘It’s urgent and the only day everyone involved can fit it in. You can sightsee, shop or spend the time at the apartment, if you prefer. There’s a spa with a great view over the city and plenty of bubbles.’

‘Soap or champagne?’ ‘Both, if you so desire.’

And, oh, she did…She bit back a sigh. Her own Pretty Woman vision without the shopping spree.

Unlike the crowds and delays of commercial travel, they departed on time and with no fuss, leaving the dull grey Melbourne skyline behind.

Soon after take-off Matt fixed them drinks and nibbles, then excused himself to catch up on some work on his laptop, leaving Ellie to lie back on the wide leather seat and enjoy the comfort of the tiny private jet.

She watched the ice-cream clouds below them for a time, then flicked through a couple of architectural magazines. McGregor Architectural Designs featured on the cover of the previous month’s issue. Matt was standing at the base of some steps, jacket slung over his shoulder, a glimmer of that sexy-as-all-get-out grin on his face. A needle-thin glass-and-steel pyramid vaulted into the sky behind him. She recognised it as one of the city’s prominent buildings, but hadn’t realised it was one of Matt’s designs and the home of his business empire. The whole concept that she was in his jet, flying off to spend the weekend with him, blew her away.

In just over an hour they were descending over the Harbour Bridge, the water reflecting the deepening orange and indigo sky. Lights were coming on all over the city like thousands of twinkling fireflies.

A limousine picked them up and whisked them to the city centre. They stopped in front of a tall round building and stepped out onto George Street, thronged with tourists out on a Saturday night. The lobby sparkled with lights and black granite. Ellie had worked in Sydney but she’d stayed in cheap accommodation, not in…this. ‘You own an apartment in this building too?’ she asked as they stepped into the elevator.

‘Yes.’

‘How many places does one guy need?’

He grinned as they shot skyward. ‘I look at them as investments and it beats impersonal and unfamiliar hotel rooms.’

The elevator doors slid open to reveal a small lobby. Matt opened a wide-panelled door and the stunning harbour view greeted them through floor-to-ceiling windows. As she followed him through the spacious apartment she noticed vibrant autumn colours of amber and taupe. A tall arrangement of black lacquered twigs in a vermilion pot stood in one corner. Comfortable couches, the latest in electronic entertainment.

He stopped at a bedroom, setting their bags just inside the door. Her pulse stepped up at the sight of the king-size bed with its dark-chocolate quilt and apricot pillows.

The reason she was here.

The air crackled with sexual awareness but he said, ‘Feel free to make yourself at home. I’ve got some plans to go over before tomorrow morning. I’ll be in my study.’ Business before pleasure.

‘Okay.’ She closed her eyes briefly as he left, feeling way out of her comfort zone. What was she doing? She wasn’t the type of girl who went with a rich man for sex.

She crossed the room to watch the changing colours of the twilight sky. Last night Matt had been just a regular guy in a leather jacket who rode bikes to relax. The guy who’d slipped over in the mud with her. The guy who’d helped her wipe the mess off her kitchen floor when she’d been burgled and looked after her when she was ill.

Here on his own turf, this Matt was someone else. The permanent playboy and businessman, wealthier than she’d ever imagined, more influential than she’d given him credit for. He managed a business empire over two cities. A man way out of her stratosphere.

He was also the man she’d had the steamiest, most sensational sex of her life with.

If she could just concentrate on that and not think about how he was tugging at strings she didn’t want tugged. Making her feel things she didn’t want to feel. Making her vulnerable.

No, no, no. Not vulnerable. In control. Swinging her case onto the bed, she unzipped it with a firm tug and pulled out her one and only black dress. She slid the mirrored wardrobe door open to search for a coat hanger…

A row of after five dresses met her eyes, neatly arranged in colour from black through to white. Her stomach clenched, her fingers went limp. But only for a moment. Had the woman left her designer underwear too? Throwing her own cheap cotton dress on the bed, she flung open cupboard doors, yanked out drawers, rifling through briefs, boxers, socks.

She found an abundant supply of condoms in the top bedside drawer. An overabundance, in her opinion. She slammed the drawer shut. At least he was responsible, but did he have to be such a boy scout about it?

‘Ellie? I heard noises. What are you doing?’

She swivelled her head to see Matt the love rat at the doorway. The way he stared at her, brow furrowed, eyes questioning…Damn it, he made her feel as if she was looking for his hidden stash of cash.

She realised she was holding a pair of black briefs and dropped them back in the drawer. Lifted her hands away from his underwear.

‘The condoms are in the top drawer,’ he said, leaning lazily against the doorjamb. ‘In case you were wondering.’

‘Yes, I know. I was wondering why you’ve asked me here when you’ve clearly got plenty of female company to keep you occupied.’

His gaze followed hers to the open wardrobe and his expression cleared. ‘I forgot to mention them. They’re for you to choose something to wear this evening. I had the boutique from downstairs bring them up, but if the size isn’t right…’ He trailed off at her glare.

‘So my clothes aren’t good enough?’ She felt like three kinds of an idiot, accusing him without cause.

He frowned. ‘You were the one who said you didn’t have anything suitable to wear.’

Oh. Right. ‘I didn’t expect…Look…I’m sorry, okay?’ She waved a vague hand at the jumbled drawers. ‘I don’t need you to—’

‘Just choose something. That purple or the turquoise.’ His voice rumbled, water-smoothed stones beneath a deep-flowing river.

She could almost hear him say, One that comes off easily at the end of the evening. Could see it in the way his eyes seared her skin.

Or maybe he was saying, We can be late…

All the air left her lungs. She was tempted, so tempted, to walk on over and push his T-shirt up, kiss her way across that firm, hard abdomen and distract him from his work…‘Okay,’ she heard herself murmur as if she stood somewhere outside of herself.

He gave her a heated look, but then, just when she thought she’d been right all along, he glanced at his watch. ‘We’ll leave in thirty minutes.’

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