Bedded at the Billionaire's Convenience(57)

‘This is a silly conversation.’ And the first argument they had had in a while and Georgie didn’t like it. She stroked his stomach, feeling his tension in the tautness of his muscles. Frankly, she had no idea why he was in a mood. Did he expect her to fall at his feet in gratitude because he had seen fit to try and tell her how to lead her life? Didn’t he know how hurtful it was to realise that behind his words was the reality that their break-up was a given? When she found someone else. How much more direct could he get? All he hadn’t done was to put a time limit on his eventual departure.

‘I’ll be fine,’ she reassured him, just in case he had thought her response too flippant. She slid her hand along his thigh and he caught it in his, his dark expression indicating that he had more to say, but actually he just sighed and released her hand.

‘You were saying something about better things to do in bed…’ he queried roughly. ‘Maybe you’d like to show me what exactly you had in mind.’

They woke to find an idyllic scene outside. The weathermen had forecasted snow and the heavens had obliged, opening up at some point during the early hours of the morning to deposit a blanket of white everywhere, and it was still snowing.

Pierre opened his eyes to see Georgie gazing in wonder out of the bedroom window and he slung his legs over the side and walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her.#p#分页标题#e##p#分页标题#e#

‘Merry Christmas, my darling. Didn’t I tell you what a good idea it was to travel with lots of spare clothing?’ He kissed the nape of her neck and she smiled back at his reflection.

‘Isn’t it gorgeous?’

‘I don’t like it when you stick a nightie on. I prefer to have your hot body naked next to mine.’

‘Awkward when it comes to going to the bathroom in the middle of the night,’ Georgie pointed out. ‘This house gets cold in winter when the heater goes off.’

‘Mmm. But when you’re clothed it’s more difficult for me to do this…’ Their eyes met in the window and she watched his strong, elegant hands push up the oversized tee shirt that she used as nightwear so that they could cup her breasts and massage them, his thumbs rolling over her nipples until she was panting softly and leaning back against him, her eyelids fluttering.

‘Someone could see us,’ she whispered unsteadily and he grinned.

‘How many people are going to be strolling through open fields in the snow on Christmas morning? Oh, look! There’s a queue of them!’

Georgie straightened automatically, but of course he was joking.

He wasn’t, however, joking about what he wanted to do. He removed the tee shirt and, Georgie having left off her underwear, they were both now naked in front of the window, which offered them a tantalising reflection of themselves, with Pierre leaning over her, one hand moving over her breasts while the other drifted lower.

‘We have to go downstairs…’ Georgie gasped and laughed at the same time. ‘Didi’s probably already fussing in the kitchen waiting for us to appear! It’s gone eight!’

‘Which is why we’re not going to be very long,’ he murmured in response, ‘much as I would like to be…’ He spun her round and in one swift movement hoisted her up and onto him. She felt his hard shaft in her and her whole body juddered in response, then she began moving on him, deep and fast, secure in his embrace.

They came with explosive intensity, Pierre’s big body jerking and stiffening, his head flung back, eyes closed.

It was a moment Georgie wished she could cling to for ever, especially considering their last conversation, which she had uneasily pushed to one side but hadn’t quite managed to banish to complete oblivion.

As they dressed to go downstairs she could feel the little bubble she had built around them begin to wobble and then, her optimism rising once again to the surface, she thought, Why be scared?

She paused and looked at herself in the mirror. What she saw was a woman in love. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were bright, every bit of her was alive. Wrong man, admittedly. At least as far as security went, but, heck, why should she roll over and play dead? Really why should she just assume the inevitable?

Why, in other words, shouldn’t she fight for him? It would have to be an underhand fight because he still had no idea how she truly felt about him, but she could do it!

He had already vanished downstairs. The bedroom door was open and she could hear the indistinct sounds of him talking to Didi. She knew one person who would heartily approve of her perseverance, should she have had an inkling of the true situation, and that was Didi. Didi, faced with a similar situation, would never have contemplated just hanging on and then giving up when the time came.