Sultry Nights

‘What do you think you’re doing?’

She gave another huge push, but Tiarnan was like a rock and still far too close. His mouth quirked sexily and everything seemed to slam into Kate at once: the dimness of the room, his scent, his body so close to hers. Her wanton reaction.

‘Waking you with a kiss.’

She reacted violently to his voice, feeling acutely vulnerable—he’d taken deliberate advantage of her, and the more he did it, the less she could argue to him or herself that she was immune to him. If he knew how close this was to the fantasy she’d had for a long time …

She pushed again, feeling heat rise in her face. ‘Finding me asleep did not give you the right to molest me.’

Tiarnan finally rolled back and away, releasing her, but a mocking look on his face cut right through her flimsy attack.

‘Kate, believe me, I wasn’t—What the—?’ He suddenly jumped up like a scalded cat, holding something in his hand.

Kate immediately saw what it was.

‘What the hell is that?’ Genuine pain throbbed in his voice, and Kate allowed herself a small dart of pleasure; that would teach him.

She stood up and took the offending article from him. ‘It’s a knitting needle.’ She indicated the couch and the pile of knitting that had rolled off her lap when she’d fallen asleep. ‘I’m knitting a jumper for Molly, for Christmas.’

His mouth opened and closed. Kate saw a genuine lack of comprehension in his eyes, and then she looked down to where his hand still held his side, just above his trousers. A dark shape was flowering outwards through a small rip in his shirt, under his hand.

Shock slammed into Kate, turning her cold in a second. ‘Tiarnan—you’re bleeding.’

His mouth was a tight line. ‘It went right into me.’

Acting on pure instinct, and feeling a shard of fear rush through her, Kate reached out and ripped open the bottom of his shirt. The wound was a small puncture, but it was pumping blood, and when she looked up at Tiarnan he’d gone white. Too panicked to feel bemused at his obvious distaste for blood, Kate held his shirt to the wound and led him out to the kitchen, where she found the first aid kit under the sink.

She made him rest back on the huge wooden table as she opened his shirt all the way to tend to him. She felt shaky. ‘I’m so sorry, Tiarnan. I’d no idea you were leaning on the needle …’

He just grunted, and Kate busied herself stanching the blood. She applied pressure to a piece of cotton wool over the wound for a long moment, and looked at him warily. Colour had come back into his cheeks and his eyes were now glittering into hers.

He arched an incredulous brow. ‘Knitting?’

She smiled weakly. ‘It’s a hobby. Something I took up to pass the time backstage at the shows.’

‘Reading would have been too boring, I take it?’ His tone was as dry as toast.

She smiled again. ‘And smash the stereotype that all models are thick?’

A glint of humour passed between them, and suddenly Kate became very aware of the fact that Tiarnan was lounging back, lean hips resting on the table, shirt open, impressive chest bare. In a surge of awareness, now that the panic was gone, she unthinkingly applied more pressure, making Tiarnan wince.

‘Sorry,’ she muttered, lifting the cotton wool to check if the bleeding had stopped. To her relief it had, and it didn’t look as if the needle had gone too deep. But now all she could think about was the fact that she was right between his splayed legs. The material of his trousers was pulled taut over firmly muscled thighs. His belt buckle glinted and a line of dark silken hair led upwards over a hard flat belly, like an enticement to his chest, which was covered with more dark hair. She had a sudden burning desire to know what it would be like to have her bare breasts pressed against his chest …

She grew hot again as she busied herself cleaning the wound and getting a plaster to hold it in place. Her hands didn’t feel steady, and she prayed that Tiarnan wasn’t noticing her meltdown.

What Tiarnan was noticing was the tantalising display of her breasts, just visible as she moved, in the vee of her shirt. From what he could see she wore a plain white bra, and her breasts looked soft and voluptuous. Perfectly shaped. He could remember how they’d felt, crushed against his chest. Her soft, evocative scent wafted up from her body as she moved. Her legs looked impossibly long in the faded jeans. He shifted on the table as she bent down and unwittingly came closer to where he was starting to ache unmercifully. The pain of where the needle had lanced him faded in comparison. The incongruity of finding that she’d been knitting in the first place—not a hobby that he associated with a woman like her—had faded too, in the heat of his arousal.

If she looked down … He gritted his teeth, trying to control his body, a muscle throbbing in his jaw as her soft small hands worked. Her hair slid over her shoulder then, and whispered against his belly. Everything in him tightened, and he couldn’t help a groan. Immediately Kate looked up with wide, innocent eyes, inflaming him even more.

‘Did I hurt you?’ He shook his head. She was finished putting on the plaster. He could hear the tremor in her voice when she said, ‘There—all done.’

He reached out and held her elbows, dragging her imperceptibly closer, and closed his legs around hers slightly. He could see her widening eyes, pupils enlarging, and it had a direct effect on his arousal levels. She was tantalisingly close to where his erection strained against his trousers. But not close enough.

His voice felt as if it was being dragged over gravel. ‘Not all done yet … I think you should kiss it better.’

Kate’s insides seemed to be melting and combusting all at once. She was unable to look away from Tiarnan’s gaze. It held her like a magnet. Time stood still around them. She was so close now. One little tiny step and she’d be right there, captive between his legs, and she would be able to feel … She had to stop this madness. She had to remember that he’d deliberately set out to get her to Madrid to seduce her—had to remember her vow to be strong, resolute. She couldn’t let this happen. She struggled to swallow.

‘Tiarnan, you’re not four years old …’ Her voice sounded pathetically weak and feeble.

‘You stabbed me with your knitting needle,’ he growled. ‘The least you can do is kiss me better.’

What they were saying should have had a thread of easy humour. But humour was long gone. This was deadly serious.

Kate’s heart was pumping so fast now she felt sure he would be able to hear it. His hands on her elbows were strong, rigid. He wasn’t going to let her go, and she didn’t even know if she would have the strength to step away without falling down. This was the most erotically charged moment she could ever remember experiencing. Her throat was as dry as sandpaper.

‘One kiss and then you’ll let me go?’

Without taking his eyes from hers, he nodded.

Kate pulled away slightly and Tiarnan let go—cautiously. He leant back a little farther and rested his hands behind him on the table. It made him appear vulnerable and even more sexy, his torso long and lean, shoulders broad. Kate looked down at where the wound was. She put her hands behind her back, as if she couldn’t trust herself not to run her fingers over the ridges of muscles that rippled over his belly. She felt weak inside—hot and achy.

She bent down over his chest, and down further, her mouth hovering over where the plaster was. His skin was dark olive, taut and gleaming, begging to be touched, kissed. She imagined it to be hot to the touch, and pressed her mouth just above the plaster. Without having consciously intended it, her mouth was slightly open. She could feel and hear his indrawn breath. Acting on pure instinct, Kate darted her tongue-tip out for the tiniest moment. His skin was warm, and slightly salty on her tongue. Lust coiled through her like a live flame. She could smell the musk of arousal and didn’t know if it was hers or his. She wanted with a desperate urgency to explore further, to press herself close and feel if he was aroused …

With every atom of strength Kate possessed, she managed to straighten up and look Tiarnan in the eye. Her hands were still clenched tight behind her back. She felt feverish. His eyes burned into hers, and suddenly Tiarnan’s hands gripped her upper arms and he pulled her right into him. Caught off balance, she fell forward. He caught her full weight, and her hands came out automatically to splay across his chest. Desire flooded her belly and between her legs with traitorous urgency.

‘Your wound …’ she gasped.

‘Will be fine.’

She was desperate now. As desperate for him to keep holding her as she was to get away—and that killed her. ‘You said one kiss.’

He looked at her for a long moment. Kate felt her breasts crushed to his chest and, worse, felt his arousal hard against the apex of her legs. She was right in the cradle of his lap, unable to save herself from falling headlong into the fire. Her whole body was crying out to mould into his, to allow it to go up in flames.

She repeated herself, as if that might change the direction things had been taking since he’d walked up to her on that stage in San Francisco.

‘You said one kiss.’

Tiarnan snaked one arm around her back, pulling her in even tighter. The other went to the back of her head. She was his captive, and she couldn’t move even if she wanted to.

‘I lied.’

CHAPTER FOUR

TIARNAN’S mouth came down onto Kate’s with all the devastation of a match being put to a dry piece of tinder. Ten years of build-up exploded inside her. Her hands curled into his chest and he pulled her so close to his body that all she could feel was rock-hard muscle and his arousal. Kate could feel moisture gather between her legs and she moved unconsciously, as if she could assuage the need building there.

With a move she wasn’t even aware of Tiarnan shifted them, so that Kate was now sitting on the table and he was leaning over her. Eyes closed, Kate could only feel and experience, and give herself up to the onslaught on her senses. Tiarnan’s hands were in her hair, around her face. His mouth was relentless, not breaking contact, his tongue stabbing deep—and she was as insatiable as he.

Her arms wound up around his neck, clinging, hands tangling in his short silky hair. She finally broke her mouth away for a brief moment, sucking in harsh breaths. Her heart hammered as she felt Tiarnan’s hands move down, moulding over her waist, cupping under her buttocks, pulling her into him even more.

She opened her eyes, but they felt heavy, Tiarnan’s face was close, his breath feathering across her face, his mouth hovering. Feeling bereft, Kate reached up again and pressed her mouth feverishly to his, her whole body arching into Tiarnan’s, revelling in his hard strength. No other man had ever made her feel so hot, so sensual.

Tiarnan’s hands went to her shirt and she could feel him open the buttons, fingers grazing her skin, the curve of her breasts. She didn’t protest—she couldn’t. Impatient to touch him too, she pushed his shirt off completely, so his chest was bare, and ran her hands over the smooth skin of his shoulders. She felt the muscles move under his skin as his hands pushed aside her shirt. His mouth left hers and blazed a trail of kisses down over her jaw and neck. Kate’s head fell back. All she was aware of was here and now and how badly she craved this touch. His touch.

Tiarnan’s arm supported her as he tipped her off balance slightly so she leant further back. His mouth was on the upper slope of her breast and all her nerve-endings seemed to have gathered at the tip, so tight it hurt.

When she felt him pull down her bra strap and then her bra to expose her breast, her breath stopped. Tiarnan cupped the voluptuous mound with one hand, his thumb passing back and forth over the hard aching tip. Kate bit her lip and looked down. She was breathing fast, one hand behind her, trying to balance, clenched into the table as if that could stop her tipping over the edge of this sensation. Between her legs she burned, and she could feel herself fighting the urge to push into Tiarnan’s body.

‘So beautiful …’ he breathed, looking down at her cupped breast with its pouting dusky peak.

Before Kate could gather her fractured thoughts and steady her breathing he lowered his head and his mouth closed over her nipple. She let out a long moan somewhere between torture and heaven as he drew it into the hot cavern of his mouth and suckled.

This felt so right—as if they had been transported back in time and this was a natural progression of that kiss. And yet … it shouldn’t be. Not after ten years. How could ten years of other experiences be obliterated so easily? Wiped out as if they hadn’t even existed?

It was that tiny sliver of rationality seeping into her head that woke Kate from her sensual trance. She became aware of the fact that she was practically supine on the kitchen table, and when she felt Tiarnan’s hand search for and find the button on her jeans, about to flick it open, she struggled upwards, battling a fierce desire to just give in.

‘No … no, Tiarnan. Stop.’ Her hands were on his arms, pushing him back.

After a long moment he stood up, chest heaving, cheeks flushed, eyes glittering. Kate knew she wasn’t much more composed. She dropped her hands. Her voice felt raw.

‘We can’t do this. Rosie might wake and find us … or Esmerelda.’

He looked at her for a long moment and finally took a step back, raking a hand through his short hair. He emanated veritable waves of danger, his face stark with a raw masculine beauty that nearly made Kate throw herself back into his arms. But she didn’t.

She stood from the table on shaky legs and pulled her bra up, her shirt together, turning her back to him for a moment. She felt dizzy.

His voice cut through her dizziness. ‘A few moments more and here would have done fine … But you’re right. This isn’t the time or the place.’

She rejected the almost violent need that beat through her body. She knew he was right; a few more moments and here would have been fine. Anywhere would have been fine. The rug in front of the fire. Any feeling of exhilaration that their desire had been mutual was lost in the humiliation that burned her again. Her voice was fierce.

‘There won’t be a time or place, Tiarnan.’

Kate felt a hard hand on her arm and she was pulled around to face him. His face was glowering down at her, taut with a frustrated need that had to be reflected on hers too.

‘How can you deny what just happened here?’

Tiarnan saw Kate’s eyes widen and he let her go. The force of need running through him was so strong he was actually afraid he couldn’t contain it. She’d felt like nothing he could describe or articulate in his arms. Soft and fragrant and pliant … and so passionate. But he was shocked to come to his senses and acknowledge that if she hadn’t stopped him he would be taking her right now on the kitchen table, overhead lights blazing down, like some overgrown teenager who couldn’t wait.

Where was his sophistication? His cool logical approach to such matters? She’d had to remind him about Rosie. She stood, holding her shirt together, hair tousled over her shoulders, her cheeks flushed, lips red and engorged with blood. His hormones were already raging back to life. He had to get a grip.

Kate struggled to close her shirt. She felt as though she’d just been through some kind of seismic earth shift. She watched as Tiarnan’s face closed down. He bent to pick up his shirt, muscles rippling across his back, and when he put it on her eye was drawn to the rip and the dark stain of blood. Her belly clenched. She couldn’t answer his words. Couldn’t deny what had happened.

She looked down, struggling with her bottom button, feeling tears threaten. God. How could she have been so unutterably weak?

‘Kate.’

She composed herself and finally closed the button before looking up. She hoped her face was blank, her eyes giving nothing away. She couldn’t count on her years of training around Tiarnan any more. Her control was shot to pieces.

His shirt was back on, haphazardly done up, making Kate’s heart turn over and making her want to do it up properly for him. She clenched her hands by her sides, fought the urge to tidy her hair, which was all over the place.

His eyes snared hers. She couldn’t look away. Her mind blanked.

‘I never meant to leap on you the minute I walked in the door … but you can see what happens between us …’

‘I—’

His face tightened. ‘Don’t deny it, Kate. At least don’t do that.’

Kate shut her mouth. She hadn’t been sure what she was going to say, but he was right. She’d been about to try and make some excuse for what had happened.

Tiarnan turned away and paced for a moment, before coming back to stand right in front of her. He looked grim. ‘I was going to ask you tomorrow, but it seems as if now is as good a time as any.’

‘Ask me what …?’ Kate said nervously.

‘Rosie’s school is giving them some holidays from the day after tomorrow while they do some unavoidable renovation work. We’re going to our house in Martinique. I’d like you to come with us.’

Kate could feel herself pale. She took a step back and started shaking her head, her heart beating fast.

Tiarnan watched her. ‘You know why I’m asking you, Kate. You know what will happen if you say yes. But know this—if you say no, if you insist on returning to New York tomorrow, it won’t change anything … I’m not letting you go. Not when we have unfinished business between us. Not when we have this.’

He reached out a hand and cupped her cheek. Immediate heat suffused her whole body and electricity made the air between them crackle. He was determined. Nevertheless, she had to hang onto some control. She pulled down his hand and stepped back.

‘I need to leave here by eleven to catch my flight. I’d appreciate it if you could call a cab for me in the morning.’

Kate saw Tiarnan’s jaw clench, but he just said, ‘You won’t need a cab. I’ll take you if you want to go. If you want to go.’

‘I will—’

Tiarnan cut her off, changed tack, and surprised himself when he said, ‘When I went in to check on Rosie earlier she looked more peaceful than she’s done in weeks.’

Kate shook her head, her heart constricting. ‘Tiarnan, don’t do this.’

Surprise at that admission, and at the way Kate was reacting, made him sound harsh. ‘Look, you did me a huge favour minding Rosie. You’ve got time off, and you probably haven’t had a holiday in months …’

Years, she said in her head, and right now it felt as if she’d been running from something for years. That sense of peace that had been stealing over her these last couple of days was elusively seductive, but there was no way she would relax around this man.

‘I would like you to come on holiday with us. I spoke to Rosie on the phone about it earlier, and she said she’d love to have you come. I asked her not to say anything until I’d spoken to you … Just sleep on it, OK? And let me know in the morning.’

His tone brooked no argument. Pure arrogance. Kate felt tense.

‘Fine. Tell yourself what you want. I know what I’ll be doing tomorrow.’

Escaping from you again.

Kate backed away while she could and turned away. And felt as if she were being hounded by jeering voices all the way to her room.

Tiarnan watched the space Kate had left for a long moment. She’d rapidly taken up a place in his life he wasn’t used to women occupying. He’d already drawn her into an intimate space that no other woman had occupied just by inviting her here, by letting her take care of Rosie. Apart from family, his wife was the only other woman who’d been that close; familiar darkness filled his chest. She didn’t count.

And even his wife had never taken such control of his every waking and sleeping thought as Kate was beginning to. He tried to rationalise that moment in New York when in the middle of an important meeting his mind had wandered helplessly and he’d had the lightbulb inspiration of asking Kate to join them on holiday. How right it had felt.

He’d tried to tell himself that it was for Rosie as much as himself; he was becoming more and more acutely aware, as she grew older, of the lack of a solid female role model in her life. Yet he’d never introduce anyone into their intimate circle who Rosie wasn’t completely comfortable with. When he’d mentioned asking Kate along on holiday to Rosie she’d been more excited about the prospect than she’d been about anything in weeks. The fact that they’d obviously bonded merely comforted him that he’d made the right decision. And he did genuinely feel grateful to Kate for stepping in to care for Rosie at such short notice. But he knew that for all his high-minded intentions a much baser desire lay behind the sudden impetus to ask her to come. He just wanted her in one place: in his bed, underneath him.

He recalled her obvious shock at the suggestion and felt curiously vulnerable before he quashed it ruthlessly. He had to wonder if this playing hard to get was just a game. Punishment for his earlier rejection? Or foreplay because she knew she was going to give in? A stab of disappointment ran through him; he didn’t want that, but couldn’t articulate why he couldn’t accept that calculated behaviour from her when he might expect it from another woman. Conflicting emotions rose up, muddying the clarity of his thought, his intention.

One thing was clear: he wanted to keep Kate close until such time as he could let her go again, and he knew that day would come. He couldn’t fathom any woman ever taking up that much space for ever. He’d never felt that way about anyone.

His conscience pricked. There had been one moment—that night ten years ago, when Kate had all but admitted she was a virgin. The realisation had tapped into something within him and he’d felt compelled to pull back, push her away. He’d found himself reacting from a place of shock—shock at how immediate and raw his response had been. And he’d been more curt than he had intended. The flare of wounded emotion in her eyes had seared through him, but after a moment it had been as if he’d imagined it.

And then her cool response had been all the proof he’d needed that she was exactly the same as every other woman. That momentary weakness he’d felt had been a lesson learnt—a lesson he’d needed in those months afterwards when he’d dealt with his duplicitous wife. If anything, what he’d experienced with Kate and subsequently with Stella had merely reinforced his own cynical belief system.

No, all he and Kate had was history—unfinished business. Thinking of how much he wanted her made him feel ruthless, and he never usually felt ruthless when it came to women. They didn’t arouse such passionate feelings. Grim determination filled him as he refused to look any deeper into those feelings. Bed Kate and get her out of his system. There was nothing more to it than that. And if she said yes tomorrow she’d only be proving to him that all this was a playful front. And that was fine. It was all he wanted—wasn’t it?

Kate lay on her back as the pre-dawn light stole into her bedroom, a tight knot low in her belly. She’d tossed and turned all night. And now she lay gritty-eyed, staring up at the ceiling.

Turmoil couldn’t even begin to describe what she’d been going through in the wee small hours. As if she even had to think about Tiarnan’s offer: of course she would not be going with him to some tropical island paradise to indulge in an affair. Yet, instead of feeling at peace with her decision, she was back in time and standing before Tiarnan in that library, with nothing but the firelight illuminating the room.