The Billionaire Banker(59)

In the bedroom, he glances towards his bedside table then hers. Nothing. He goes into the kitchen. He looks at the island top, his eyes scanning the room quickly. No, she has left no note. He goes back into the bedroom and opens the cupboard. Handbags, shoes, clothes. It is all there. She has taken nothing. He keys in the combination and opens the safe. The velvet box is in there. He opens it and the necklace lays nestled on its satin bed. He sighs with relief, puts it back carefully and locks the safe.

She must have gone to visit her mother. He rings her number and waits, but on the second ring he hears another ring coming from the living room. He follows the sound.

Her phone is lying on the sofa. He cuts the connection and picks up her phone. Last caller, him, last call, her mother. He rings her mother’s landline. It rings out. He goes through her address list and rings Billie. Her cocky recorded voice comes on and he leaves a message for her to call him back urgently. He rings Jack. Jack answers on the sixth ring just as he is about to give up.

‘Jack, do you know where Lana is?’

‘No, why?’

‘Just trying to find her. She’s gone out without her cellphone.’

‘It’s raining here. Is it raining there?’

Slight pause. ‘Yeah… It’s raining here.’

‘I wouldn’t worry, mate, she’s probably just gone out walking in the rain.’

‘Right.’

Jack laughs. ‘She’ll come home looking like a drowned kitten. It’s something to behold.’

‘Right. Thanks, Jack.’

Blake goes out onto the balcony. It is pouring with rain. A jagged flash of lightning splits the sky. He waits for the thunder. It comes deafeningly loud almost immediately. He frowns. He doesn’t like the thought of her in the rain. He goes to the edge of the balcony and reaches a hand out to catch some rain. Strange. He leans over the edge and turns his face up to the shower.

He tries to imagine what she must be feeling, thinking.

The rain is cold and he is quickly drenched. He peels off his shirt that has become transparent with the rain. He balls his shirt in his hand and hears the key in the door. It opens and they stare at each other.

Indeed, she is a sight to behold. Instantly he knows she is not the same anymore. There is such hurt in her eyes.

He strides to her.

‘Come,’ he says and takes her to the bathroom.

He guides her under the shower spray. The water that pelts her cold shivering skin is perfectly warm. She hears him moving away and she closes her eyes and savors the pleasant sensation. She feels life coming back to her fingers and limbs. She has walked too long. She leans her forearms against the tiles and lifting her face to the water, abandons herself to it. She hears the shower door slide and her eyes snap open. He is nude and standing outside.

Her eyes rove over him and settle in fascination on his manhood that is already half erect before she suddenly realizes what she is doing, and flushing with embarrassment, turns away.

He catches her by the chin and brings her eyes to him.

‘I want you to look at me. Look at me.’

She returns her eyes to his manhood. It is no longer at half-mast but standing proud. She lifts her eyes back to his face. He steps into the shower. She moves back to make space for him. She watches him through the drops of water and steam. He chuckles and, finding the soap, slips it across the skin of her chest.

‘Lift your arms.’

She obeys.

He soaps her under her arms. His touch is light and unticklish. His swipes the soap along her shoulders and then down to her breasts. Here he is rhythmic and meticulous. The mounds get much attention. So much she longs to have him take her nipples in his mouth. The soap travels downward. To her stomach and further to her bare-skinned sex. He doesn’t have to tell her. She spreads her legs and the soap slides between them. The water sluices through his hands.

‘Turn around.’

She turns. The soap is travelling her back and down her spine along her hips and finally entering the crack of her bottom. She feels him kneel to wash her legs down to the soles of her feet, which he does one by one. Then he stands. In her line of sight she sees him return the soap.

And pick up the shampoo bottle. She hears him squirt it into the palm of his hand. Then he is washing her hair.

The bubbles run down her body. Heat collects between her legs.

Now he is so close she can feel his hard body slipping and sliding against hers. Her legs begin to tremble. He turns her around and sucks her nipples. His hands slide down her stomach and boldly without warning grab her hips. She gazes into the storm clouds in his eyes. His jaw is clenched tight. He lifts her body and penetrates her. She curls her legs around his hips and cries with an animalistic pleasure. The deeper he buries himself inside her, the deeper she wants him to go.