Engaged at The Chatsfield Page 5

  He searched her gaze for a beat. ‘Are you sure about this?’

  She slipped her hand beneath his undershorts, discovering him, caressing him. Wanting him. ‘Never surer.’

  He crushed her mouth to his as his hands went back to her hips, holding her against him as his tongue tangoed with hers in a sultry dance of lust and long-denied cravings. Her body was so ready for him. She could feel the dew of her arousal between her thighs, could feel the racing of her heart as his mouth continued to wreak sensual havoc on hers.

  His hands moved from her hips to her bottom, pulling her close to his hard heat, enticing her with the force and power of his need. ‘God, this is madness but I can’t stop.’

  ‘I don’t want you to stop.’ She nipped at his lower lip, pulling at it with her teeth in a playful bite. ‘I want you to make love to me all night long.’

  He shuddered as she took him in her hands again. ‘I’m supposed to be working.’

  She stroked her tongue over his top lip. ‘You have plenty of time tomorrow. The meeting’s not till Monday.’

  He nudged and nipped at her lower lip, his brandy-scented breath mingling with hers. ‘I don’t trust Gene Chatsfield or his ruthless new CEO. One or both of them could easily bring the meeting forward.’

  Juliet eased back to look at him. ‘Why would they do that?’

  He trailed a scorching pathway of kisses from her earlobe to the corner of her mouth. ‘As a test.’ He pressed a hot kiss to her lips. ‘To see which of the three of us is the best prepared.’

  She shivered as his lips moved back to her earlobe. ‘But doesn’t it depend on who has the best design?’

  ‘It should but it doesn’t always. Business can be cutthroat. The best man doesn’t always win.’

  Juliet stroked his lean jaw as she gazed into his eyes. ‘I want you to win.’

  His eyes were inky-dark and determined. ‘That’s the plan.’

  She closed her eyes as his mouth came back down, sweeping her into a maelstrom of sensation. She felt the swell of desire move through her body, rolling over her in waves with each stroke and glide of his tongue.

  He pulled her knickers down and she stepped out of them, snatching in a breath and holding it as his gaze slowly moved over her. ‘So beautiful...’ His voice was deep and gravelly, his touch like fire as he traced the seam of her body.

  She leaned into his touch, instinctively searching for the release she craved. She gasped as he entered her with one of his fingers, the slippery glide of it making her body pulsate with pleasurable shockwaves. ‘I want you,’ she whispered against his mouth. ‘All of you.’

  He led her to the huge bed, stripping back the covers with a quick movement of his hand that made a rush of excitement storm through her body. He stepped out of his underwear before he joined her. His legs were hairy and rough against hers, his body hard against her softness. But instead of feeling self-conscious about her body, she felt proud. He gave her no other choice. She could tell he was delighted in her every curve because of the way he kissed and caressed each one. Her breasts, her stomach, her thighs were all worshipped by his lips and tongue.

  Juliet clutched at the sheet when he brought his mouth to the juncture of her thighs. He must have sensed her hesitancy as he placed a gentle hand on her belly. ‘Relax, I won’t rush you.’

  She closed her eyes and let the sensations wash over her as he caressed her. Each stroke of his tongue brought her closer to the summit. She could feel it building like a storm cloud about to burst. It swelled and swelled until finally it broke free with an earth-shattering explosion that fanned out from her core to every pore of her body.

  He moved up her body, kissing her skin all the way, lingering over her breasts until her nipples were red and glistening with his warm saliva. ‘You have the most amazing breasts.’

  Juliet stroked him with her fingers. ‘You have the most amazing body.’

  His eyes smouldered. ‘Now might be a good time for a condom.’

  ‘You have one?’

  ‘In my wallet.’ He left her on the bed while he went in search of his wallet. She drank in the sight of him, so lean and strong and powerfully irresistibly male.

  ‘How many do you have?’

  ‘Three.’

  She arched an eyebrow. ‘Only three?’

  His look melted her bones. ‘It’s a start. I can get more tomorrow.’ He tore the edge of the condom seal with his teeth. Juliet watched as he rolled the condom over his erection, her body singing in anticipation as he came back to join her on the bed. He positioned himself between her thighs, one of his legs hitched up so she didn’t have to take his full weight. He kissed her long and deep, ramping up her need all over again. Her body hungered for him, her insides twisting and turning and tightening with longing until she was whimpering beneath the pressure of his mouth.

  He gently parted her to receive him, slowly entering her so she could gradually accommodate him. Her body wrapped around him, gripping him tightly as he began to thrust. She heard him draw in a quick breath as if her body had surprised him. Delighted him. ‘You feel so good,’ he groaned against her lips.

  She quivered all over as he upped his pace. It was as if his body had set its own rhythm in response to hers. His thrusts became deeper and harder and faster, his breathing as hectic and breathless as her own. Sensations showered through her flesh like a fountain of bubbles moving through her blood. The tension gathered in her pelvis, the swollen bud of her arousal silently begging for the friction it needed. She lifted her hips at the same time as he brought his hand between their rocking bodies. It was all she needed to fly. She came with a rush that shook her body in giant spasms of delight, each one like a wave cresting through her.

  His release followed on the tail end of hers. She felt each erotic shudder, heard his guttural groan as he emptied. She held him to her, reluctant to break the connection before all the sensations had subsided. His head was buried beside her neck, his warm breath caressing her skin, his chest rising and falling on hers.

  He finally eased back on his elbows to look down at her. ‘No regrets?’

  Juliet touched her fingertips to the sculptured perfection of his mouth. ‘None whatsoever. You?’

  He nibbled at her fingers, his eyes holding hers. ‘So, you want the left side of the bed, right?’

  She smiled as she traced a line down the length of his nose. ‘Am I going to have to wrestle with you for it?’

  He gave her a wickedly sexy grin that made her spine loosen. ‘What do you think?’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  JULIET HAD BEEN awake for an hour, watching Marcus sleep beside her, when he suddenly jolted upright with a short, sharp expletive. He threw off the covers and leapt out of bed. ‘What time is it? What day is it?’

  ‘It’s seven-thirty on Saturday.’

  He rubbed a hand down his face. ‘I had a dream. A nightmare.’

  She sat up and hugged the sheet around her knees. ‘What was it about?’

  He raked a hand through his sleep tousled jet-black hair. ‘I dreamed I missed the meeting. I got the day wrong. I turned up on the wrong day.’ He shook his head and gave a relieved sounding laugh. ‘It was just a dream.’

  Juliet rested her chin on the top of her knees. ‘Why is this project so important to you? It’s not as though it’s the biggest project you’ve done. Surely the sheikh’s was bigger?’

  He sat on the edge of the bed next to her. ‘It’s not the size of the project.’ He trailed a fingertip down her arm from her shoulder to her wrist, making her skin lift in a shiver of reaction. ‘You know that Biblical saying about a prophet not being welcome in their own country?’

  Juliet looked into his dark blue eyes; she saw the determination there, the drive and steely ambition. He was so centred and focussed. Goal-oriented. She had
always admired that about him. He worked hard and didn’t allow anything to distract him from his mission. ‘You want this more than anything, don’t you?’

  He took her hand and turned it over in his, stroking her palm with the broad pad of his thumb in a slow caress that triggered a hot spurt of longing deep in her pelvis. ‘The Chatsfields are one of Britain’s richest families. To design a yacht for them would open lots of doors for me here and abroad.’

  Juliet touched his stubbly face with her hand. ‘Why do you push yourself so hard?’

  He held her hand to his face by covering it with his own. ‘You already know the answer to that.’

  ‘Because you don’t want to be labelled a layabout aristocrat like your father.’

  He gave her a wry smile. ‘There you go. A direct quote from one of the tabloids.’

  She studied his expression for a moment. ‘Where do you go after here? Back to Dubai?’

  He stood and ploughed his hand back through his hair. ‘Let’s not have this conversation right now, okay?’

  Juliet pinched her lips together. Fool. Why did you spoil it all? ‘I’m sorry.’

  He let out a harsh sounding breath. ‘I knew this would be a mistake. Sex blurs the boundaries too much. I wish I’d never—’

  ‘Don’t say it.’ She stared at her knees. ‘No regrets, okay? This is just for the weekend. I know that. I’m okay with that.’ No, I’m not!

  He came back over to the bed, sat beside her and turned her face towards him with the tip of his finger beneath her chin. ‘Are you sure?’

  Juliet ignored the tight spasm of pain in her chest. His eyes were so dark they reminded her of deep outer space—infinite and unreachable. ‘It’s my fault we’re in this situation and I accept full responsibility for it, but don’t worry, it will be over soon.’

  It was his turn to study her expression for a beat. ‘Why is it so important to you to keep up the pretence? Why couldn’t you just tell them the truth?’

  Juliet rolled her eyes as she shoved his hand away to get off the bed. ‘Oh yeah, why didn’t I think of that?’ She whipped a bathrobe off a hook next to the wardrobe and pushed her arms through the sleeves. ‘I could tell them I haven’t had a date in five years because I got screwed around by a two-timing jerk and I lost my confidence because he said I was fat and ugly to one of his friends who posted it online. I could tell them I’m terrified because I’m twenty-nine next month and I’m worried I’m never going to find someone who loves me enough to marry me and have a family with me. I could tell them all my fears and have them look at me pityingly, or worse, have them set me up on horrid blind dates. I won’t do it, Marcus. And you can’t make me.’

  The silence was deafening. Shaming. Embarrassing. Excruciating.

  He took a step towards her but she held up her hand. ‘No. Please. Don’t make this any worse.’

  ‘Juliet...I—’

  ‘I know what you’re going to say.’ She met his gaze head-on. ‘You’re going to say “it’s not you, it’s me,” right?’

  His eyes looked pained. ‘This is all I can give you right now. I’m sorry.’

  Juliet gave him a cynical look before she turned for the bathroom. ‘It’s just another version of the same thing, isn’t it?’

  * * *

  Marcus wasn’t in the suite when Juliet came out of the bathroom. She was relieved and disappointed. Relieved she didn’t have to see him feeling sorry for her now she’d laid all her secrets bare. Disappointed he wasn’t there to tell her he loved her and wanted her to spend the rest of her life with him. She knew it was foolish to dream. Foolish to hope. Foolish to fall in love with someone who was so far out of her reach.

  But she had always loved him. She couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t. As a child she had loved him as a brother, and then, as she got older, as a friend. But now she loved him as lover. A life partner, except he didn’t want her for life. Just for a measly weekend.

  The girls were waiting for her in the Chatsfield spa for their day of pampering. Juliet pasted on a smile and joined in with the luxurious treatments, listening to the chatter and gossip with one ear while her mind drifted elsewhere.

  But that just about summed it up.

  She was always on the outer edge. Looking in instead of at the centre. She was a fringe person. No one noticed her sitting on the sidelines.

  Story of her life.

  Harriet came over with a glass of champagne with a strawberry perched on the rim of the glass. ‘There’s been a change of plans for this evening.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘I know it’s a break with hen’s weekend protocol but since Hugh and Tristan are in town for an investment conference, and you’ve got Marcus here, we thought we’d have a couples’ dinner tonight. Just the six of us.’

  ‘Dinner?’ Juliet looked at her in alarm. ‘What happened to the male stripper?’

  ‘Kendra was having qualms about it. Said she didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.’ Harriet sat on the arm of the leather pedicure chair opposite Juliet’s. ‘It will be a good chance for Marcus to meet the boys. Will he be free?’

  Juliet swallowed. ‘I’ll have to check...’

  Harriet’s smile was as sly as a fox sizing up an unsuspecting chicken. ‘He surely won’t be too busy for his fiancée, will he?’

  * * *

  Marcus was coming back from the hotel gym where he had worked off some, but not all, of his unsettled feelings. He had run twelve kilometres on the treadmill. Pushed a few weights around. Done three hundred abdominal crunches, and yet he still couldn’t get Juliet’s hurt expression out of his mind. It had never been his intention to hurt her. He was annoyed with himself for letting things get out of his control. He’d had this same conversation with himself at Christmas. He’d known it would get messy. Relationships always did, which was why he avoided them. Juliet had always been a part of his life. He didn’t want that to change. He couldn’t bear for it to change. But he wasn’t the answer to her problem.

  He wasn’t anyone’s answer.

  A tall, imposing figure came towards him down the corridor. Christos Giantrakos was dressed suavely in a suit and crisp shirt and neatly knotted tie, making Marcus feel at a distinct disadvantage dressed in sweaty gym gear. But maybe that was the point.

  Christos offered his hand. ‘Marcus Bainbridge, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes. How do you do?’

  ‘I noticed your name on the bookings. Welcome to the Chatsfield.’

  There would be little that escaped the sharp-eyed Greek’s notice, Marcus thought. ‘Thank you.’

  Christos glanced at his phone to access his calendar. ‘Your appointment with us was scheduled for Monday.’

  ‘That’s correct.’

  Christos slipped his phone into his pocket and met his gaze directly. Challengingly. ‘How do you feel about bringing it forward?’

  * * *

  Juliet was in the suite when Marcus came out of the bathroom after his shower. She was standing across from the bed where he had laid out his suit, shirt and tie in readiness for the pitch meeting. Her cheeks were pink and her teeth were starkly white against her lower lip as she chewed at it. ‘Are you going out?’

  ‘I was right about Giantrakos.’ He reached for his shirt. ‘He brought the meeting forward to tonight. A private dinner in the boardroom with him and Gene Chatsfield.’

  ‘Oh...just as well you’re so well prepared.’

  Marcus studied her while he buttoned his shirt. Her eyes were averted but whether that was because he was half naked or because she was still upset with him was hard to gather. Her forehead was creased as if she was fretting about something. Was she regretting making love with him? Had he ruined everything between them? Something moved in his chest, like a gear shifting but only halfway. The blocked feeling stole his b
reath. He needed to talk to her but not like this. Not while his mind was on the meeting.

  ‘What are your plans for this evening?’ he asked.

  Her eyes kept skittering away from his. ‘Just dinner with the girls.’

  ‘Want to meet up afterwards?’

  She stretched her mouth into a tight smile. ‘It’s okay, Marcus. You don’t have to babysit me.’

  ‘Can we talk when I get back from the meeting?’

  She looked away again. ‘I think we’ve said all that needs to be said.’

  Marcus wasn’t so sure he had said all he needed to say. The words he wanted to say were still jumbled inside his head. They were all out of order like a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. That ache in his chest wouldn’t go away. It was cramped. Tight. Stuck. But then, hadn’t it been that way since Christmas? He thought he’d had his life all planned. He didn’t have room for feelings that were complicated and confusing. He needed time to process it all. ‘This isn’t going to ruin our friendship, is it?’

  She smiled again but it was brittle around the edges. ‘Of course not.’

  He came over to her and held her by the shoulders. ‘You’re a beautiful person, Juliet. You deserve to have it all. Don’t let anyone tell you different.’

  She slipped from out of his hold. ‘I have to get ready for dinner. I’ll see you later.’

  * * *

  Marcus was on his way to the boardroom when he ran into Harriet Penhallon. She glanced at his laptop. ‘Aren’t you joining us for dinner?’ she asked.

  Something about the way she was eyeing him made him feel uncomfortable. Uneasy. Suspicion began to march with ice-cold feet over his scalp. ‘Dinner?’

  ‘Didn’t Juliet tell you? We’re having a couples’ dinner in the restaurant downstairs.’ She gave him a glinting smile. ‘Only affianced couples are invited.’

  A flood of feeling spread through his chest, unblocking the jammed gear like a flow of warmed oil over rust. Juliet hadn’t asked him to go with her because she knew how important his meeting was to him. She hadn’t even mentioned the dinner in case he felt pressured. She had put her needs aside in preference for his.