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Innocent Cinderella: His Untamed Innocent / Penniless and Purchased / Her Last Night of Innocence
‘Darling.’ His voice was a hoarse groan. ‘Oh Christ, my sweet…’
He moved, lifting himself over her. Started with immense care to enter her, easing his way into the wet, yielding heat of her willing flesh.
She felt a brief, burning pressure, and gasped. Felt him pause, sensing her sudden tension and, knowing that he could not—must not stop, she grasped his shoulders, raising herself towards him in blind and total surrender. Offering herself to the one long, controlled thrust that sheathed him in her with utter completeness, the pain of her body’s resistance over almost as soon as it had begun.
When it was done, Jake stayed very still, his blue gaze quietly watchful, as if anticipating some other sign of reluctance or discomfort from her. And she looked back at him, wanting to let him know that she was ready and more than willing to give him everything he wanted from her. And smiled, breathing his name.
He bent his head, kissing her smile with his own, and began to move in her, his loins barely rocking against hers in the gentlest of motions. Marin felt the sweetness of this new rhythm in her blood, her bones. Found her response to it as natural, as necessary as drawing her next breath. But was bewildered by it just the same, because it wasn’t what she’d expected.
Of course, what she knew about men and their behaviour during sex was less than minimal, she reminded herself as her breathing quickened helplessly, but she’d imagined rather more—urgency would be involved in his need for satisfaction.
‘What’s the matter?’ Jake asked softly.
Her voice was a small, husky croak. ‘I don’t understand. Don’t you want to…?’
‘Very much,’ he said. ‘But I’m waiting for you.’
‘For me?’ Marin stared up at him. ‘But I won’t—I couldn’t…’ She broke off, her colour deepening helplessly.
‘No?’ He was smiling again as he shifted, subtly altering his position, his movement inside her slow and smooth but at the same time more forceful. His mouth was warm and lingering on her parted, astonished lips. Hot and demanding on the hardening excitement of her nipples.
He pushed more deeply into her, withdrew a little, then pushed again, reaching some secret place far inside her and creating another kind of new and exquisite sensation there with an erotic mastery that had her twisting helplessly under him, her mind and will wiped of everything but the wicked, beautiful things his body was doing to hers.
There. There…
She said, her voice drowning, ‘Oh, God, no—no,’ as she felt the first quivers of ecstatic abandonment rippling within her, then building fiercely to their inexorable crescendo, her muscles clenching powerfully around him.
And heard Jake’s harsh groans of rapture as he at last allowed himself to attain his own release.
She was aware of quietude and a profound peace. Of lying still wrapped in his arms, their bodies joined, his dark head against her breasts. Of sudden, unexpected tears on her face.
And, as if he was aware of this last reaction, he separated from her with the same care he’d used in his possession of her, gently drying her wet face with a corner of the sheet then stroking her dishevelled hair as he held her, his voice a soothing murmur.
Eventually, she said, mumbling, ‘I’m not sad—really, I’m not.’
‘I’m glad to hear it.’ He kissed her eyes and her lips.
‘I wanted you to know that.’ She tried to stifle a yawn and failed. ‘Oh God,’ she added, mortified. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Don’t be.’ He switched off the lamp and drew her close to him, pillowing her head on his chest. ‘We could both do with some sleep.’
Sleep? thought Marin. How could she possibly do that with everything that had just happened still churning in her mind?
Especially when she’d never shared a bed before with anyone before—let alone a man.
But she hadn’t expected to find his warm body so comfortable to relax against, or the resonance of his heartbeat under her cheek so soothing, she told herself with a little contented sigh. And slept.
A pale, grey light was beginning to penetrate the room when she opened her eyes. For a moment Marin lay still, slightly disorientated, aware of little more than the delicious lassitude permeating her entire being, wondering drowsily what had disturbed her slumber.
Then she turned her head slowly and saw Jake propped up on one elbow, watching her, and realised with a lift of her heart that she’d been woken by the touch of his lips.
‘Hey,’ he said softly. ‘Remember me?’
She stretched languidly, deliberately, observing the flare of his blue gaze as the covering sheet slipped down her body. She pretended to frown.
‘I’m not altogether sure. Maybe you could—jog my memory?’
‘With pleasure.’ His hand cupped her breast, the ball of his thumb rubbing slowly across the nipple. ‘Does that strike a chord?’
‘Mmm,’ she murmured thoughtfully. ‘Something seems to be stirring in the back of my mind.’
‘Is that all?’ There was a quiver of open amusement in his voice as he let his hand slide down her body to the soft mound at the junction of her thighs. ‘Maybe—this will be more help…’
It was suddenly difficult to breathe or even to think as his fingers caressed her, lightly, teasingly. She managed, ‘If you could be—a little more specific…’
And made a sound between a laugh and a sob of delight as he pulled her towards him, under him, raising her legs to lock round him as he entered her.
Impossible, she thought, her senses in free fall as she clung to his shoulders, that she could be so ready for him. Impossible, even shameful, that she should be so eager—so hungry, enclosing him in her moist and willing heat, as her body offered the counterpoint to each firm and powerful thrust that was carrying her away with him to heaven.
Even so he made her wait, keeping her balanced for an eternity on some knife-edge of trembling desire before driving her into the harsh sweetness of orgasm. And when she cried out, her voice ragged, she heard him answer her.
She slept again, wrapped in his arms, and awoke to the first streaks of sunrise. They had moved a little apart at some point, and Marin turned on to her side, letting her eyes explore every detail of the magnificent, naked body sprawled beside her. The first time, she realised, she had ever really looked at him. Or had the leisure to do so, she conceded, a mischievous smile curving her lips.
Her first hint that he was awake and fully aware of her fascinated scrutiny was his politely uttered, ‘Good morning.’
She jumped guiltily. ‘Thank you. And an even better one to you.’ She paused. ‘So—you do have an all-over tan.’
His eyes opened and he lifted a lazy brow. ‘You mean, you’d actually wondered?’ he asked and grinned. ‘Life just gets better.’
‘No,’ she protested too hastily. ‘No, of course not.’
His smile widened. ‘Fibber.’ He rolled over, pulling her towards him and kissing her on the tip of her nose. ‘Whereas you, my virtuous angel, have clearly been wearing a bikini at some recent date—even if you wouldn’t do so this weekend. And it covered you from here…’ He trailed his lips across the swell of her breasts just above her nipples. ‘To there.’ His tongue traced her cleavage and beyond.
‘And from here,’ he added, skimming a finger from the curve of one hip to the other. ‘Down to—here.’ He paused, lingering, deliberately tantalising. ‘So—what colour was it?’
She swallowed, her skin warming helplessly at his touch. ‘Why do you want to know?’
‘So I can imagine taking it off,’ Jake whispered, and began to kiss her again.
Afterwards he slept again, one arm thrown across her, but she could not. The room was golden with sunshine now, and she felt part of it, part of all that warmth and promise, her perceptions heightened—coloured by what had happened to her here. Her body felt entirely different too, her skin seeming to tingle—to glow.
Nor was it because she was quite definitely aching a little. More than a little, if she was really honest.
And, more prosaically, she was hungry.
Careful not to disturb him, she slid from under his imprisoning arm and tiptoed across to her room, retrieving her dress and briefs en route and putting them away.
Then, picking out a straight, white linen skirt, a silky black top and some underwear, she went into the bathroom. She filled the tub with warm water, adding fragrant bath-oil, and sank into it with a sigh of contentment.
She thought, I’ve lost my virginity. And paused, because that was hardly an accurate description of what had transpired last night.
‘I didn’t lose a thing,’ she told herself defiantly. ‘I gave it away, freely, willingly and quite gloriously.’
The kind of behaviour she’d always secretly condemned. And yet she didn’t regret a thing. How could she?
In retrospect it had not been exactly what she’d anticipated, mainly because she’d not expected him to be quite so considerate— so gentle. From what she’d gleaned from the giggled conversations of female colleagues, it had seemed that men, carried away in the throes of passion, could behave very differently.
And she wondered if, perhaps, Jake had made allowances for her ignorance of what really turned men on.
She sat up abruptly. What the hell was she thinking? Was she deliberately trying to tarnish the sheer magic of what had happened between them?
It was wonderful, she thought. And he made it wonderful. There was no more to it than that.
Half an hour later, bathed and dressed, she went to his door and peeped in to see if he was awake, but he hadn’t stirred, so she made her way downstairs alone.
She could hear the buzz of conversation from the dining room, and knew suddenly that food could wait. That she didn’t want to see anyone just yet.
That she wanted to hug last night and its secrets to her a little longer.
She went through the drawing room and out on to the terrace, standing by the balustrade and looking out over the gardens. The lawns looked particularly inviting, she thought, as if they were waiting for her to dance across them—or turn a cartwheel for sheer joy.
Her face splintered into a grin. ‘As if,’ she told herself, and turned to go back in the house, nearly cannoning into Diana Halsay, who was standing right behind her.
‘Well, well,’ Diana said softly. ‘You look very pleased with yourself this morning. Has Jake taken pity on you at last?’ Her eyes swept Marin from head to foot in a piercing assessment. ‘Why, I do believe that he has.’ She laughed. ‘Not just belle-laide any more, but well and truly laid, if I’m any judge.’
Marin said, ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Only to be totally betrayed by the bright wave of colour that was sweeping from her toes up to the roots of her hair, making her burn with humiliation under the other’s all-knowing gaze.
‘I suppose it was inevitable,’ Diana went on, musing. ‘Even though it may not have been what he intended originally.
‘You see, I was never fooled by that “here’s my new girlfriend” routine. Graham may think it’s love, that Jake’s met his fate at last, but we three know that isn’t true—don’t we? That it’s all just a clever trick to get the sexy Mr Radley-Smith off the hook—the ultimate PR spin.’
She shrugged. ‘I suppose you hinted to Jake that I didn’t believe it. Making him realise he might need to take—stronger measures to make his little deception really plausible.
‘And you weren’t exactly unwilling, were you, my dear? Or subtle about what you wanted. In fact, everyone noticed how you’ve been trailing after him all weekend with your tongue hanging out. As Sylvia said, like a starving kid outside a baker’s window. And Jake, like a perfect gentleman, has duly obliged, thus killing two birds with one stone. So in one way you owe me a vote of thanks, or he might never have bothered.’
There was sudden nausea, hot and bitter, in Marin’s throat. She swallowed. ‘How—how dare you talk to me like this? I refuse to listen to any more.’
‘How very disappointing,’ Diana said brightly. ‘When at last we have something in common to discuss.’ She paused, a little smile curling her mouth. ‘He’s good, isn’t he?’ She lowered her voice intimately, sister to sister, talking about a pleasure shared. ‘Knows all the right buttons to press, as it were. I’m sure he rewarded you very generously for being such a good girl.’
She gave a little gurgle of laughter. ‘However, I presume he wasn’t in one of his more adventurous moods, or you probably wouldn’t be able to walk this morning.’
Marin was shaking, but she managed to lift her chin. ‘You’re crude,’ she said with quiet clarity. ‘Crude and unbelievably vile.’
‘And you, Miss Wade, are a fool,’ Diana retorted, shrugging. ‘Oh, I expect you’ll be enough of a novelty to become the flavour of the month for a little while.’ She shrugged. ‘After all, I’m sure he’s grateful if nothing else. But he also gets bored very easily—and very quickly. He’ll soon have exhausted all your limited possibilities.
‘And he certainly doesn’t do happy-ever-after, in case you were hoping.’
‘I wasn’t.’ Marin’s voice was ice, chipped from the shivering emptiness inside her. ‘But thanks for your concern, if that’s what it is. Goodbye, Mrs Halsay.’
She walked past Diana into the house, heading blindly across the drawing room and out into the hall to the downstairs cloakroom, her heart beating like a wild creature chased by hunters.
She shot the small, brass bolt on the door, then walked across to the tiled vanity unit with its scented soaps, hand lotions and pile of small, fluffy towels. Leaning over the shell-shaped basin, she retched drily and weakly.
As the feeling of nausea began to pass and she felt marginally calmer, she straightened, turning on the cold tap and letting the water run over the pulses in her wrists. She caught her reflection in the large gilt-edged mirror right in front of her.
Found herself looking at—understanding—what Diana Halsay had seen: all the signs of self-betrayal. The shadowed, dreaming eyes emphasised by the smudges of sleeplessness beneath them; the sensuous, luminous pallor of her skin and the soft mouth, blurred and swollen with kissing.
Well and truly laid. Diana’s words ate into her brain like acid. Corrosive, destructive.
Has Jake taken pity on you at last? Like a starving kid outside a baker’s window.
Comments that made her feel as if the skin had been flayed from her body. Because she could not deny that they held a basic truth.
I thought I’d been so clever, she thought, pretending to pretend, hiding what I was truly feeling. But I was only fooling myself. And all the time people have been laughing at me.
She poured water into her cupped hands, splashing it on to her face as if she could wash away the evidence of last night. Of her appalling weakness. Her stupidity. That, she thought, above all.
And now she had to go back and face them, the occupants of this small, malicious world, and the man who’d brought her here. Subjected her to this. The man she now had to rely on to take her out of it and back to where she really belonged, she reminded herself bitterly.
And quelled the sob rising in her throat.
The dining room was mercifully empty. There was coffee on a hotplate on the sideboard and she poured some into a cup, swallowing it in great, painful gulps, trying to dispel the chill inside her.
She did not turn as she heard someone enter the room, but she knew instantly who it was, and her body tensed painfully.
Jake’s arms slid round her waist, drawing her back against him as he nuzzled her neck. ‘Where did you go?’
By some supreme effort, her voice sounded almost normal. ‘I—I couldn’t sleep.’
‘You should have woken me.’ He smiled against her skin. ‘I know the perfect cure for insomnia.’
‘Anyway, it was morning.’ She remembered lying in his arms, watching night turn into day, her body glowing with joy and fulfilment. Making her forget that people spoke about ‘the cold light of dawn’. Meaning a time when reason and commonsense kicked in. Even a time for an agony of shame and bitter regret.
‘You speak as if that makes a difference,’ he said softly. ‘All evidence to the contrary.’
The words twisted inside her like a knife. She released herself. ‘How—how soon can we leave here, please?’
‘It’s usual to stay for lunch,’ he said after a pause. ‘But we can go earlier, if that’s what you want.’
‘Yes.’ Her voice shook a little. ‘I—really want to. I—I’ve had enough.’
‘Which makes two of us, believe me.’
Believe me. Oh God, how could he say that? she wondered, unable to look at him as he stood beside her, casually helping himself to coffee.
‘You go and pack our things,’ he went on. ‘While I have a final brief word with Graham, and then we can be off.’
Marin was standing by her bedroom window, gazing sightlessly at the garden, some fifteen minutes later when she heard him go into his room. A moment later, he appeared in the doorway.
‘You didn’t pack for me?’
She turned defensively. ‘I didn’t know you wanted me to.’ It was a lie. She couldn’t bear the implied intimacy of handling his clothing, touching things he’d worn recently. Behaving as if they were a couple.
He shrugged, sending her a faintly puzzled look. ‘It would have saved time, that’s all. But it doesn’t really matter.’
He paused. ‘I’ve already said our farewells. Our hostess has swept her female guests off to the tennis court, and Graham and the guys are planning to play poker.’
He smiled at her. ‘I’ll throw my things together then, with one bound, we can be free.’
The garden blurred suddenly, but her voice was steady. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘We can.’ And felt her heart break.
Chapter Nine
THE VILLAGE WAS several miles behind them. That part of her ordeal was over, but now she had to deal with its aftermath.
In spite of herself, she found she was glancing sideways at his hands on the wheel of the car as they steered it, controlled it, with effortless expertise.
Just as he’d done with her last night. His hands on her body touching, arousing, with the same precision. Taking her exactly where he wanted her to go.
And, God help her, she’d wanted it too. Had wanted all of it and more. Had wanted the glory of him with her, inside her, as they reached paradise together. Had prayed for it never to stop.
Only to find all that pain, hunger and rapture belittled—reduced to words like pity, reward and gratitude. The passion she’d imagined replaced by a sense of obligation.
He’d performed, she thought. He’d given her pleasure, because she’d made it so shamefully clear that was what she required. Why she’d thrown herself at him, as she had.
He knew how to arouse—to fulfil, but that did not mean that he had to be emotionally engaged. Inexperienced as she was, she’d been aware of his restraint. Maybe he’d simply known how little effort on his part would be needed to bring her to climax. Turn her into his willing creature.
Worst of all, she’d ignored the fact that he’d tried to step back from her.
Suddenly she remembered Greg, standing in the flat in France. ‘She’s no bloody oil-painting,’ he’d said, the words dripping with contempt. ‘Who the hell would want to start anything with such a pathetic little object?’
Oh God, she whispered under her breath. How can it be possible to hurt so much? To feel so ashamed?
‘Well, that’s that, thank God.’ She started as Jake’s voice intruded on her unhappy reverie. ‘Would you mind if we made a slight detour?’
She swallowed. ‘Why should we do that?’
‘There’s somewhere we could have lunch,’ he said. There was a smile in his voice. ‘It’s not too far out of our way, and you might like it.’
‘Thank you.’ Her voice was polite but definite. ‘But I’d rather go straight back to London. If you don’t mind.’
She couldn’t bear, she thought, to spend any more time with him than was strictly necessary. And once this journey was over she would never see him again.
‘Well, just as you want,’ he said after a pause. ‘The other will keep, and maybe London is the best option at this point. How about I drop you at the flat to pack the rest of your stuff and collect you in an hour or so?’
‘Collect me?’ Marin repeated. Her head turned sharply towards him. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I live in Chelsea, darling,’ he said. ‘You don’t imagine I’d suggest you get there by public transport?’
‘I know where you live,’ she said. ‘How does it concern me?’
There was a silence, then Jake said quietly, ‘I’d imagined it would concern you very closely.’ He slowed the car, driving on to the broad grass verge, then braked and switched the engine off. He unfastened his seat belt and turned, frowning slightly as the blue eyes searched her face.
He said, ‘You see, I thought—I hoped—that you’d be moving in with me.’ He smiled faintly. ‘After all, I can hardly come and live with you. Lynne would have a heart attack if she had to fight me for the shower each morning. Or if she found us in the bath together.’
The flavour of the month for a little while…
Pain twisted inside her as she recalled those other mocking words, which had told her nothing but the truth.
Instead, she moved suddenly, restively. ‘You think I’m coming to live with you because of what happened last night?’ She shook her head. ‘That’s—over and done with. And now I have my own life to go back to. So I have no intention of sharing anyone else’s, even on a temporary basis. I never did.’
His gaze sharpened. Became incredulous. ‘What the hell are you talking about.’
‘About the parting of the ways.’ She made herself look at him, coolly and calmly. ‘We had a deal, but today it ends. And nothing takes its place.’
There was a silence, then he said quietly, ‘Darling, you don’t—you can’t mean that.’ He unclipped her seat belt and reached for her.
She recoiled and said hoarsely, ‘Don’t touch me. Just—don’t…’
‘Oh, for God’s sake.’ His tone was harsh. ‘I gave up wrestling in cars years ago. I just want to hold you while I find out what’s going on here.’
‘Haven’t I made it clear enough?’ she asked, her heart thudding. ‘You hired me to do a job. My part of the bargain is complete. All that remains is for you, Mr Radley-Smith, to give me the money you promised.’ She paused. ‘Unless, of course, you consider that last night was payment in kind? All debts settled and nothing more due?’
‘No,’ he said, his eyes narrowing. ‘I think nothing of the kind. And why this sudden ludicrous formality? You called out my first name when you were coming only a few hours ago.’
‘That was then.’ Marin kept her voice steady. ‘This is now. So spare me any further reminders of last night’s events, please.’
‘Why should I do that?’ Jake threw back at her. ‘Or am I supposed to pretend it didn’t happen?’
‘Put it down to an error of judgement.’ She hesitated. ‘I shouldn’t drink when I’m not used to it.’
‘Oh no, darling,’ he said softly. ‘You can’t blame the demon alcohol for that particular turn of events, and you know that as well as I do. We may not have been very wise, but we were both sober.’ He paused. ‘So—what’s the real problem?’
‘No problem at all.’ She didn’t look at him. ‘I just have no wish to compound my mistake. And any further involvement with you, Mr Radley-Smith, would be a seriously bad idea.’
She swallowed. ‘Or did you think, having given me the ultimate good time in bed, I’d be begging you for more?’
How could she be saying these things? she asked herself with a kind of anguish. Was this the price she had to pay for self-preservation? To ensure that he would leave her strictly alone from now on?
‘That never crossed my mind,’ he said. ‘But I think I deserve some kind of explanation for this—volte face.’