The Russian's Ultimatum(24)

It came as no surprise to find it empty.

His subconscious had been telling him something.

He made it to the waterfall in a third of the usual time, his body drenched in sweat.

Her possessions were at the base of the ledge. Blood pounding in his head, he peered cautiously over it.

He caught a flash of ebony hair.

Squinting to get a better focus, he saw her properly, legs stretched   out, arms resting back atop a crop of rocks at the edge of the   waterfall, the stream of water pouring over her steadier than the   torrent flowing in the centre.

She must have sensed him for her head lifted and she raised an arm in a   wave. She called out but her voice was muffled by the waterfall.

It was not until she beckoned him that he realised she was asking him to join her.

He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, 'Don't be ridiculous.'

Shaking her head, she got to her feet and dived into the pool, staying submerged for so long the breath caught in his throat.

When she resurfaced she swam to the other end of the pool and hauled   herself out. 'Jump in,' she called up to him, now far enough away from   the waterfall for her voice to carry.

'No!'

'I promise you, it's the most exhilarating feeling in the world.'

She was too far away for him to see her features clearly but there was a definite air of elation about her.

Pascha did not take risks. Having come so close to death at such a young   age, when the question of whether he lived or died had been completely   out of his control, he had determined always to decide his own fate.  He  did not compromise his safety and he never put it solely in the  hands of  others.

Less than ten hours earlier he'd been tempted to throw off his clothes   and swim into the lagoon in the dark. She'd made him want to do that   with the sparkle in her eyes as she'd looked out over the lagoon, the   sense of an adventure waiting to happen.

The temptation he'd felt had been real. But not half as real or as   consuming as the temptation to pull her into his arms and taste those   delectable lips all over again. He'd wanted to taste all of her all over   again. He still did.

If it had been just the two of them at the beach, he doubted he would   have had the presence of mind to hold himself back. His staff   surrounding him had kept his control-his sanity-in check. He'd lain in   his large, lonely bed and fought the greater temptation to take himself   to her, as he'd done the night before, and slip beneath her covers; to   make love to her all over again. Because that was exactly what it felt   like: making love. And that was the greatest danger of all.

And now she wanted him to jump forty feet with only her word that it was safe.

'Pascha, trust me. Keep your feet together and hold onto your neck. You will love it, I promise. Trust me.'

Trust her? Put his control and safety in the hands of another?

Despite all his self-imposed safety mechanisms, his body zinged, as if it were trying to take possession of his mind.

Her madness must be contagious.

Focusing solely on the raven-haired beauty perched like a mermaid on the pool's edge, he removed his boots.

All you have to do is run and jump.

He hadn't run on anything other than a treadmill since he'd been fourteen.

His legs had had enough of his procrastination.

Almost as if it were happening to someone else and he was watching from afar, he took the short run and jumped.

Those few seconds of flying felt like nothing else in the world.

As gravity sucked his body down to the clear blue abyss, all Pascha   could think was that she was right: this was the most exhilarating   feeling in the world.

He hit the water, landing with an enormous splash. It consumed him, as if he were being dragged to the centre of the earth.                       
       
           



       

He refused to panic, keeping a clear head through the enormous shot of   adrenaline the jump had produced. Pointing his arms upwards, he   propelled his body up until he broke the surface.

The first thing he saw was the relief on Emily's face, a look that was   immediately replaced with the brightest, most beautiful smile he had   ever seen.

'You did it!' She laughed, a sweet, lyrical sound that warmed his heart. 'You really did it.'

He swam over, caught hold of her thighs and pulled her down into the   water, using his arms to trap her against the edge of the rocks. He   tried to catch his breath, tried to suck oxygen into his burning lungs,   but all he could focus on was the beam of her smile.

The swell of her breasts pushed against his chest but she made no move   to escape the confinement. Instead, she rested her hands on his   shoulders and gazed at him, her chest hitching, an intensity swirling in   her eyes that drove into his veins and paralysed him.

Her thighs brushed against his. A charge careered through him, so powerful he could feel it singe his blood.

He wanted to lose himself again in the wonders of her-the woman who made   his senses come alive. The only woman capable of making him forget   himself.

Her eyes had transformed into liquid. Her lips parted.

And then there was no more staring.

There was no slow build and no tentative caresses either. They simply   fused into one, plundering each other's mouths with scorching   fierceness.

Her fingers dug possessively into his scalp, her legs lifting and   wrapping around his waist, whether by his instigation or her own   volition he could not say.

She moaned into his mouth and wrapped her thighs ever tighter, the   movement making him realise he'd lost his shorts during the jump. The   only barrier between his rampaging erection and her welcoming warmth was   the flimsy material of her bikini bottoms.

For the first time in nearly two decades he had to grit his teeth to stop himself losing all control.

He needed air. He needed to feel the ground beneath his feet before he lost all contact with reality.

In one motion he lifted her out of the water, pulled himself out and tumbled down onto the grassy bank, pinning her beneath him.

The expression in her eyes... Never had he seen such openness reflected   back at him. No inhibitions, nothing except honest, naked desire.

Her hand snaked around his head to cradle his skull and pull him down   for another kiss. Devouring the sweetness of her mouth, he roved a hand   down her side, exploring the soft, creamy skin. Her bikini top was   secured by a tie around her back. It took no effort to untie it and whip   the top away.

The feel of her naked breasts crushed beneath his chest fired him anew   and he dipped his head down to capture a dusky nipple in his mouth.

She responded to his caresses with more passion than he could ever have dreamed.

He needed to kiss her again and, as he lost himself in the headiness of   it all, Emily twisted from beneath him and climbed on top, straddling   him.

For what felt an age in which his heart beat a thousand times she did   nothing but stare at him, her eyes scanning every inch of his face.

She traced a thumb over his lips, a feather of a movement that was both   tender and erotic, before replacing her thumb with her mouth.

His hands reached round and held her tightly against him as she ground against his erection.

She gave a low moan followed by the breath of a sigh, then nibbled at his neck, teasing, painless.

Covering his face and neck with kisses, tasting the muskiness of his   skin, Emily slipped a hand between their meshed bodies, running her   fingers down his lightly haired chest all the way to his mass of dark,   wiry hair.

A deep pulsation seeped through her when she encircled his erection. She   closed her eyes and thrilled at its heavy weight, the silken feel of   its length.

Never, never had she imagined she could feel like this, feel such a need   to be possessed. And it was all him: Pascha. He did something to her,   ignited feelings-sensuous and emotional-she had never known existed   within her. And those feelings were growing.

When she opened her eyes, she found his gaze locked upon her, his magnetic eyes stark with his desire. For her.

Whatever his reasons for keeping his distance last night, at that moment   it didn't matter. All that did matter was this moment, and this moment   was with Pascha, the man who made her body come alive and her heart   sing.

He cupped her cheeks and half-rose to meet her mouth, devouring it with   his hot tongue, their kisses becoming increasingly desperate.

His fingers played with the ties holding the sides of her bikini bottoms   together. She raised her hips a touch, her gasps deepening when he   untied them and pulled the scraps of material off, discarding them on   the grass beneath them.