He nipped at her tenderly, teasing her with small honeyed bites. She pressed herself against him.
“You’re hard...to resist...yourself,” she murmured between kisses, rubbing her hips against his, chafing along his burgeoning length. Their tongues slid together, and the kiss became deeper and more intense.
Time drifted by. At last they drew apart.
“I’ve spent all day trying not to think about you,” she groaned. “This is really not going to help...”
“Why do you think I escaped to work?” He twitched her bra into place, taking more care than was strictly necessary to ensure her breasts were snuggled into the lacy half-cups before he reached around to secure it.
“Can you help me with this, too?” she asked, holding out a stretchy multi-colored top. Christian slipped it over her head and carefully drew her hands through the armholes.
“I need things with buttons down the front.”
“So I can unbutton them?” His husky query flooded her brain with explicit scenes. She saw his long fingers exposing her breasts, his lips wandering hot and damp over her skin, his hands exploring and delighting her...
“So I can button them up,” she replied, avoiding his dark gaze. She sighed and then drew a courageous breath. “Don’t kiss me again Christian. I couldn’t bear it if you did.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Christian hacked Amy Houndsworth’s chicken pie to pieces and dumped wedges on the dinner plates. The vegetables followed with about as much finesse. Dinner was enjoyed very much by Kathy, and by Christian’s widowed father.
To Christian it was something to take out his frustration on. He bit savagely at the crisp pie-crust...reduced the vegetables to pulp without tasting them. His mind returned constantly to Fiona’s tart request that he not kiss her again. He was in so deep, so fast, that his heart and brain were still at war with each other. He glanced across the table at her every now and again. From her expression, she wasn’t enjoying herself either.
Good, he thought. Why should I suffer alone?
Once the first course was finished and the dishes cleared away, he pulled three kinds of ice-cream from the capacious freezer and doled them out to order for dessert. Kathy drizzled bottled chocolate sauce over Nicky’s portion, adding encouragement about brushing her teeth before putting her to bed and departing for an evening with friends.
Christian gathered cups onto a tray. “Coffee, Dad? Fee?”
Fiona nodded her thanks.
He watched her limp slowly across the room to stand looking at the view while he prepared the coffee. It was a perfect evening—he’d thrown the huge patio doors open to the soft air. The harbor lay tranquil in the subdued light. Insects still buzzed in the flower-borders Jan had planted and tended with such love. The fragrance of jasmine and honeysuckle drifted in the slight breeze. There were so many reminders of his wife...her sister.
A sudden blinding desire hit him. To keep Fiona silhouetted against that backdrop forever, safe with him and Nicky instead of half a world away. Where he could love and protect her—although not from what had killed Jan, he thought with impotent frustration.
He shot a probing glance across to her once she sat down, but she returned only the blandest of smiles.
Fiona stayed quiet as Christian and his father discussed business, a current golf tournament, the forthcoming trip to Japan. Their deep voices washed over her as she cast her mind back a couple of hours.
His most recent behavior in her bedroom had been unnerving after his comment about cooling things down. How dare he make a grab for her when she’d simply asked for help because of her injuries? How dare he kiss her and entice her into responding when she’d only needed her bra fastened?
The second question gave her more difficulty than the first. Why had she kissed him back with such fervor when he’d already made it plain there could be no relationship between them? She’d be guarding against any more of that!
“... and Malaysia’s a huge market for the future.”
She wrenched her attention back to the conversation between the two men. From what she’d heard, their business interests were much more diverse than Jan had ever described. They extended around many of the Pacific Rim countries, and the cars were only one slice of it—albeit the slice closest to Christian Senior’s heart. His son had been the one to grab the company by the throat and transform it into the multinational success it was today.
She glanced at her watch. Barely 8.30. Not yet dark. But suddenly she felt desperate to be right away from him. With a sharp little clink, she set her coffee cup down on the Italian table and struggled up from the low couch.