The Billionaire Bodyguard(14)

       

Her  chin came up, suddenly strong, almost defiant. Surely a woman was   allowed one indiscriminate love affair in her life? From her   back-catalogue of practised smiles, she fished out an I-don't-care one.

'I didn't mean to.'

'Good.' He stroked her cheek and she kissed him, softly and sweetly, and then harder, and deeper.

He  groaned. Closed his eyes and let the world dissolve away. He moved  his  head and heard her catch her breath as the rough rasp of his jaw  skated  over her breast.

She swallowed as he caught a nipple in between  his teeth, nipping and  licking at it until she gave a sharp little cry  of pleasure.

'Like that?' he murmured.

'No, I hate it.'

He laughed. That was better-easier by far to make love to a woman when she wasn't coming over all helpless.

'Jay, do you … ?'

'Do I what?' he questioned thickly, between licks.

She  had almost forgotten what she was asking, but then his hand snaked   between her thighs again and she knew she must not be led by feeling   alone. But it was hard to think of anything other than this hot, dark   mist of wanting.

'Do you often do this kind of thing?'

'Funnily  enough … ' The pad of his thumb circled cool, silky flesh, and  he felt  her sigh of pleasure against his neck. He smiled as he moved it  to where  it was more heated, so that her head fell back against the  rug. 'I  don't often find myself marooned in the snow with beautiful  models.'

Which hadn't been what she had been asking at all.

He  stopped what he was doing and raised his head to look at her. Her  eyes  were closed, her expression abandoned and her hair spread out  behind  her, like a glorious shiny black pillow, and he felt the  unexpected leap  of his heart. 'If you're asking whether I sleep around   indiscriminately,' he said huskily, 'then the answer is no. If you're   asking for numbers, then I'd say it was none of your business-just the   same as I wouldn't dream of asking you. Is that fair, Keri?'

Fair?  She couldn't say, and frankly didn't care, because by now all she   wanted was for him to carry on with what he had been doing. She had   succumbed to his lovemaking and it wasn't going to last beyond the thaw,   when they found their way out or someone found them. He had her in his   thrall, and to deny that would be stupid-so why not just lie back and   make the most of it?

But it seemed that Jay had other ideas, for  once he had stroked on  another condom he effortlessly lifted her up,  bringing her right down  on top of him, his eyes narrowing as he heard  her startled gasp of  delight as he filled her.

'Do it to me,' he  murmured, on a note of sensual invitation. 'Will you,  Keri?' She was  shy, he saw that now, and he shook his head in a  gesture which spoke of  both despair and elation. What kind of men had  she known in the past?

He  smoothed the flat of his hand gently down the side of her hip and  saw  the look she gave him-a look full of tentative trust and yet  fear-and  silently he damned his own sex for the way they sometimes took  pleasure  and left a woman with none. His voice softened. 'Only if you  want to.'

He  felt so hard inside her, as though he had been made to impale her  just  like that-the key fitting the lock in a door which had finally  swung  open.

'Yes, I want to,' she whispered. 'More than anything.'

His laugh was low and full of delight, and he let out a slow breath. 'Oh, me, too,' he murmured. 'Me, too.'

It  felt different. Strange but wonderful. And Keri was filled with a   suffusing kind of warmth and power as she assumed the dominant position   over such a dominating man. She began to move, tentatively at first,   seeing what pleased him most and then finding out what pleased her too.

He  whispered soft words of encouragement and enticement, and touched  his  fingers to her breasts, and somewhere along the way she lost her   inhibitions completely-taking him with her-wild and free-exulting in the   sweet, shared journey-only bending her head to kiss him once she saw   the rapture take him over and then felt herself caught up in it too. It   overcame her with a force which was unstoppable, and she gasped and   gasped until there was no air left in her lungs, shuddering out his name   in a shaking voice.

She looked down at him, and their eyes locked in a long and silent moment before he pulled her down into his arms.

For  breathless minutes they lay there, his arms wrapped tightly around  her  damp back. Her skin felt like smooth satin against his fingertips  and  Jay felt an inexplicable sense of contentment creeping over him. As  if  he could sleep for a million years, maybe more. For once he didn't  fight  it, just rested his head against her neck and yawned.                       
       
           



       

'That's three,' he murmured lazily, and fell asleep.





CHAPTER SEVEN




KERI  awoke, naked and aching and glowing beneath a blanket, and batted  her  eyelids hard in confusion, certain that she must still be sleeping.   Cautiously she opened her eyes fully against the sharp light.

Where the hell was she?

Pale  winter light filtered down through high stained-glass windows, and  the  blur of white outside the big picture window was a bank of snow.  Snow.  And then back forged the memories of the long, erotic night and  she  turned her head to find the space beside her empty.

Jay.

Gone.

She  blinked her eyes against the sun dazzling off the snow, remembering  the  long, sweet night. He had made love to her over and over again-she  had  lost count of the times-and just as sleep had finally laid its  claim on  her she had been aware of him disentangling his arms and  getting up. She  had felt the warmth of blankets as he had floated them  down over  her-but their warmth in no way matched up to the heat  generated by his  body. 'Jay,' she had murmured, on a protest.

'Go to sleep,' he had commanded.

Automatically  she smoothed down her hair, her hands drifting to breasts  which still  tingled from his touch, and she felt the slow creep of  colour into her  cheeks, uncertain whether it was caused by desire or  remorse.


But  she wasn't going to feel ashamed-most definitely not. What had  happened  between them had been beautiful-Jay had said so himself, over  and over  again through the exquisite night which had followed-and how  could  something so beautiful ever be wrong?

Because life isn't like  that, jeered a little voice somewhere in her  head. You can't just take  pleasure and expect there to be no outcome;  there is always a price to  pay.

She sat up, her hair falling down all about her shoulders.  Where was  he? And why on earth should she feel shy about calling out his  name  when last night she had given herself to him completely? And  called it  more than once then.

'Jay!'

And suddenly there  he was, standing in the doorway, leaning against the  doorjamb and  surveying her with thoughtful eyes. He was, she noted  with a  disappointing sinking of her heart, already dressed. The  darkening of  his jaw made him look even more elemental than he had done  the night  before, and he just stood there, watching her, a curious and  unreadable  half-smile on his lips.

She could see for the first time that his  eyes were green-grey, the  colour of sage-wise and all-knowing,  all-seeing. Just what did they  see? she wondered. Say something, Jay,  she pleaded silently. Just say  something.

'Good news,' he said, his mouth relaxing into a smile.

Her heart missed a beat. 'Oh?'

'The  power's back on. See.' He lifted his hand and flicked a switch and   electric light flooded the room, dazzling her even more than the sun   outside, so that she blinked her eyes against the bright artificial   light.

She knew she ought to be enthusiastic, but this wasn't the  conversation  she wanted to have. The power supply was about the last  thing on her  mind. 'That's good. But could you please turn it off-it's  blinding me?'  Her voice sounded flat as he did as she asked, and she  turned her head  to stare unseeingly at the bank of brilliant snow  outside.

She had expected him to say … what? That last night had  been wonderful?  That he wanted to do it all over again? She felt a slow,  melting ache  as she looked at him, because heaven only knew-she did.

But  she felt shy again, and unsure of herself-the wild, free woman of  last  night was now like a cold and distant memory. If he wasn't going  to  mention it, then should she? Could what have happened between them  be  classified as a one-night-stand? And, if so, was there some kind of   etiquette as to how you behaved afterwards? Because she sure as hell   didn't have a clue what it was. She felt like the new child in the   playground, where everyone else knew how to play the game and wasn't   going to tell her the rules.