Holly had never realised till she came here just how beautiful and interesting Tasmania was. Very rich in history. Richard thought the same. Every night, both of them had devoured the travel brochures they'd picked up on the ferry, seeing where they could go and what they could do the next day. Next Tuesday they planned to drive down to Port Arthur, the famous old convict jail, after which they would follow the highway up the east coast before crossing to Devonport for the ferry's departure on Thursday.
Holly had been very excited about their plans. So why had she risked spoiling everything with such provocative comments? She might not be ignorant, but she was a complete idiot!
"I'm sorry, Richard," she said swiftly. "I wish I hadn't said any of that. It sounded petty. And bitter. I'm a bit touchy about education. Connie used to lord it over Dad that she had some fancy arts degree. Katie went to university as well, and of course Dad paid for it all."
"I can well understand why you would feel resentful, Holly," he said. "Don't apologise for your feelings. You're a human being, not a saint. But higher education can be highly overrated. As far as money is concerned, everyone likes having money and I'm no exception. I've worked very hard accumulating lots of it and I enjoy the power it gives me. It is satisfying to be able to buy just about anything you want. I won't deny that, either. You wouldn't be sitting here with me now if it wasn't for my money."
"Don't say that!"
"Why not? It's true."
Clearly, from his point of view, however, he had bought her. Lock, stock, and barrel.
"There were other considerations," she felt forced to say. "I would not have made my proposition in the first place if I hadn't liked you as much as I do."
"And if the sex wasn't as good," Richard added with a dry laugh, even whilst his heart twisted.
It was his own silly fault, of course. He'd set out to bind her to him through sex.
He seemed to have succeeded all too well.
How perverse it was to find that he now resented Holly liking his lovemaking as much as she obviously did. No doubt the reason for her stroppiness this morning was frustration. Three whole days without an orgasm! Underneath, she was probably panting for him to take her straight to the hotel, and to bed.
The thought both repelled and excited him.
"You said it would be all systems clear for a resumption of relations today, didn't you?" he asked with a long sidewards glance, noting the instant pink in her cheeks.
Yet it was very cool in the car, the air-conditioning doing a good job of keeping the heat out. Outside, the temperature was thirty degrees, the sun very bright.
"Yes," she said tautly.
"Just as well we're not far from the hotel then," he muttered, his own body already stirring.
Richard had chosen the Wrest Point Casino to stay in, not because of the gambling facilities, but because it was one of Hobart's top hotels. Situated on a point overlooking the water, the circular tower building boasted five-star rooms, all with magnificent views of the river, which was as wide as it was deep.
A circular driveway led up to the entrance of the hotel, a smartly dressed parking valet jumping to attention as soon as Richard stopped. The reception staff was just as efficient, and they were soon riding the lift up to their allotted floor. Their luggage was just being delivered as they reached the door, Richard giving the young man a tip, even though he didn't have to. Australia was not large on tipping, but Richard had found it was never a bad idea.
Money did smooth one's path in life, he thought ruefully as he ushered Holly into their five-star room. It bought you the best of accommodation, and the most accommodating of women.
Despite his throbbing erection and Holly's admission that his lovemaking was one of the reasons she was here, Richard resisted the temptation to pull her into his arms as soon as the porter departed. Instead, he strolled across to the window, pretending that he found the magnificent water view much more interesting than Holly.
When he slowly turned, he found her standing there in the middle of the spacious room, looking slightly confused, and incredibly sexy.
Not that she was dressed sexily. Her white shorts were a modest length and her simple pink blouse didn't cling. Her long tanned legs were bare, however, and her hair was down, the way he liked it. Her make-up was zilch, other than a touch of red lipstick.
"Are you angry with me for some reason?" she asked at last.
"Not at all," he lied.
"Then why are you acting like this?"
"Like what?"
"Like you don't want to make love to me."
"You want me to make love to you?" he said, hating himself for being such an idiot.
"I thought that was what you wanted, too."
"I need to have a shower first. We've been travelling all day and I feel hot and sticky. Of course, you're welcome to join me, if you like … "
Let her make love to him, if that was what she wanted so much. With her hands and her mouth.
She stared at him the way she'd stared at him the first day he'd met her, her eyes totally inscrutable. If only he knew what she was thinking …
Her smile blew him away.
"You know I like," she said, her eyes going all soft and smoky.
Richard had often read about women going weak at the knees with desire. He'd never imagined being afflicted in a similar manner. He leant back against the wall and gripped the window-sill.
"You'll have to be gentle with me," he drawled, hoping to hide his unexpected vulnerability with humour. "All that driving has made me exhausted."
"Poor Richard," she purred. "Perhaps a bath would be a better idea. I'll go and run one for you." And she was gone.
Richard closed his eyes at the sound of the water running.
A bath. With her, naked. Her, washing him. All over. Her, kissing him and caressing him in the water.
His knuckles whitened on the sill as he envisaged what would happen after that. He'd have her dry him but leave herself wet. Then he'd carry her to bed where he'd lick her dry. All over. He'd make her cry out under his mouth. Then cry out under him.
He wanted her to lose herself entirely. Lose control. He needed to see that she was totally his. At least in bed.
"Are you coming?"
His eyes opened, his breath catching to find her standing in the doorway of the bathroom, already naked.
He'd never seen her look more beautiful, or more desirable.
"Absolutely," he said, laughing with dark humour as he propelled himself towards her.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"I SHOULD never have let you buy me all those clothes," Holly muttered over the rim of her coffee-cup.
Richard glanced up from his cappuccino in surprise. It was Monday, and they were sitting together in a cosy little coffee shop in Sandy Bay, the Hobart suburb that boasted the casino and lots of trendy boutiques. Richard had thoroughly enjoyed himself all morning, taking her to the most expensive dress shops, having her try on outfits for him, choosing only the best to buy. He'd got over his irrational burst of resentment yesterday, telling himself not to be such a fool. It was great that she liked him making love to her, that she wasn't at all inhibited, or prudish.
"What on earth are you talking about?" he demanded to know. "Why shouldn't I have bought you those clothes? They're classy clothes, nothing like that dress Reece bought Alanna."
She shook her head, her eyes worrying him. "I'm sorry, Richard."
"Sorry? What do you mean you're sorry? Sorry about what?"
Her coffee-cup clattered back into its saucer. "I can't marry you. I thought I could, but I can't."
Richard tried not to panic.
"Why?" he grated out.
"It simply won't work," she said.
"Why won't it work?"
"You know why. I told you once. I need my husband to love me. Me, Holly Greenaway. I'm a living, breathing person, Richard, not a possession. You made me feel like a possession this morning. Like a trophy wife, to be made over into what you want. When we go back to the hotel after this and you … you want me to do the kind of things you like, I'll feel I have to, not because I want to. Those clothes feel like payment for services rendered, as well as services yet to be rendered. Same with the new car you offered me. Same with the shop, too."
"The shop was your idea," he bit out, an emotional storm building up inside him. "So was the marriage proposal."
"Yes. Yes, you're right. I let your wealth corrupt me into getting what I wanted. That, and your skill in bed. But it has to stop now, before I get pregnant. I'm sorry about the shop. But you won't lose by buying it. I'm sure it will be a good long-term investment. All I ask is for you to let me stay on there till I can find another job and another place to live." She wiggled the engagement ring off her finger and placed it in the middle of the table.