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And he wasn’t completely indifferent. Yes, his response had been instinctive—she knew that. The guy had a high sex-drive. That was okay—because for sure they weren’t talking relationship. They were talking hook-up. She just had to be sure she understood what it was she wanted.
Rafe’s intentions had not been honourable. She’d been expecting something different from that relationship. She’d wanted more. She didn’t want more from Ethan. She just wanted his body, his expertise, to feel some more of the way he’d made her feel.
Wasn’t she worth it? Didn’t she deserve to experience that kind of sizzling animal passion? Why couldn’t she use instead of being the one who was used? It wasn’t as if it was ever going to bother him. He wasn’t sensitive enough to get hurt. If she let go of her old ‘happy ever after” expectation and just went with “what feels right now” she’d be fine.
She giggled at her thoughts, mocking the way her brain could work, twisting and turning to justify something simply because she wanted it so badly. But she deserved some fun and he’d be good. And then it would be over—this bubble of obsession would be burst.
But what of her original aim? Could she still teach him a lesson? She was under no illusions that he’d fall for her if she slept with him, but surely she could still execute a flick-off somehow? She’d figure something out …
The immediate problem was that he was resisting the heat between them. Even though she knew he’d been turned on the other night, he’d stopped. She was going to have to subvert his mission to prove himself a nice date. She was going to have to make his physical instincts overrule his intellectual intentions.
She was going to have to provoke him into action.
Saturday morning Ethan snatched up his phone when he read the caller display. ‘Hello, darling. Ready to do date two?’
‘I might be ready by tomorrow. Can you wait that long?’
Ethan’s brows shot up. So did another part of him. He hadn’t expected her to purr quite like that. He stretched back in his bed and enjoyed listening as she continued softly.
‘I’ve checked the forecast and it looks good. So we can meet there.’
‘Where?’ he asked.
‘Hyde Park. By the Serpentine.’
‘Going public?’ he noted.
‘And in broad daylight.’
He could hear the smile in her voice. It made him smile all over.
‘Coward,’ he mocked.
‘Not at all. But …’ Her voice trailed. ‘You need to dress for action.’
‘What kind of action?’ He couldn’t suppress his physical reaction to the way she’d tossed out that little double entendre so carelessly.
‘Something you can move in.’
‘Okay.’ He couldn’t move for the anticipation making him rigid now. He tossed the phone away and breathed deep to relax. Hell, he had to get out of bed and do something to release some energy. She was definitely taking him for a walk in the park, like on her list—too damn tame. But perhaps that was her point.
The next afternoon couldn’t come soon enough for Ethan. He forced himself to walk rather than run there. The sun beat hot on his back and people were at the park in their masses. Ice-cream vendors were doing a roaring trade. He wanted them all to clear off. He wanted to be alone with her.
He loitered by the water, on edge, wondering if she was going to stand him up. His edges sharpened. If she did, he was damn well going to make her pay—somehow.
A roaring sound behind him grew louder, and just as he turned something crashed into him. A lithe body. A very hot one. His hands automatically shot out to steady her.
She blinked and smiled up at him. ‘Sorry I’m late.’
He kept his hands on her narrow waist. ‘Not a problem.’
She was taller. He glanced down. She was wearing rollerblades. Oh, man. A sexy roller-chick image flashed in his head. He blinked it away and checked out the reality. Nope—not minuscule hotpants, but black leggings and a tee shirt.
Good grief—she was wearing exercise clothes. Workout gear to a date. She’d meant that kind of action.
‘Thanks for making such an effort,’ he said drily. ‘This is what you have planned for us?’ Fricking rollerblading round the park? He really didn’t think so.
She looked coy. ‘Aren’t you game?’
‘Weeeeell …’ he drawled, deliberately keeping hold of her. ‘According to your website you shouldn’t do something on a day date if one person is an expert at and the other is a novice.’ He was not putting on any damn skates.
‘But you told me I shouldn’t live my life by all those rules.’ She did her wide-eyed innocent look. ‘I’m just taking your advice.’
‘You’re being a bitch.’
Her smile blossomed. ‘Or is it that you’re a coward?’
He let her go then, and stalked over to a cart where there was a guy renting out skates. Nadia, of course, had her own—not the ancient, shonky-looking ones the rental dude had displayed. Ethan glanced at her. Her feet were so small that even in the ridiculous boots with wheels on they still looked tiny. Whereas he’d be doing a Bigfoot impersonation. But then he checked over the rentals again and gave a muttered word of thanks before turning to her, totally satisfied. ‘Sadly they don’t have skates in my size.’
‘He has skates in all sizes.’ Nadia pushed past him to check out the range.
‘I have big feet.’
She turned and looked down at his feet. He watched the pink deepening in her cheeks as she looked—slowly—back up his body. He knew she was wondering whether another body part measured up.
Of course it did.
‘Oh.’ She looked flustered. ‘Um … so what do you want to do?’
Ethan grinned. He knew exactly what he wanted to do—but he wasn’t going to. ‘My flat isn’t far. I have a bike there. We could grab it and come back. You skate—I bike. Then we can get an ice-cream and sit on the grass, yeah?’
She shrugged. ‘Okay, that sounds like a plan.’
Ethan strode out while she skated just in front of him, circling back when she got too far ahead. Actually, her exercise gear was growing on him. He liked watching the slide of her thighs as she took each stroke. The leggings and little tee emphasised her compact body and cute butt. She was slim, but still had curves. He liked the light flush building in her cheeks—it made her eyes sparkle more than ever.
‘You skate a lot?’ he asked.
‘I skate to work every day.’
‘What?’ He stopped on the footpath and waited for her to come back to him. ‘To work?’
‘Yeah.’ She looked surprised at his amazement. ‘And home every night. It’s only forty minutes each way.’
‘In the filthy London traffic and across the middle of Hyde Park? What time do you go in the morning?’
‘I don’t know. Seven or so. Shower and change at work. Have breakfast at my desk. It works well.’
‘All year—in winter?’
‘Well, not if it’s raining.’
‘But it’s dark and you’re alone. Or do you have a skate buddy or something?’
She looked at him as if he was mad. He was mad. ‘No skate buddy.’
‘You shouldn’t do it.’ Some primal feeling had built in him. ‘It’s not safe.’
‘Oh, please—you think it’s dangerous?’
‘It is dangerous. The park is big. Any weirdo or creep could drag you off, and that would be that.’
‘Here’s the thing, Ethan.’ She skated up to him. ‘When I’m on wheels, I’m fast.’
‘Oh, really?’ He wasn’t being distracted by her flirting.
‘You know, in my experience—’
‘Vast as it is,’ he interpolated sarcastically.
‘Yes.’ She sent him a slayer look. ‘There are two kinds of men—protective and predatory. I’d never have expected you to step into the former category.’ She put a light hand on his chest. ‘I don’t need a protector, Ethan.’
‘You want to be hunted?’ His attempt to ignore the flirt failed. ‘Are you sure that’s what you want?’
‘Well, I definitely don’t need someone who thinks a little thing like me shouldn’t wander down the main road without a bodyguard.’
‘Because you can take care of yourself?’ He folded his arms across his chest to hide how tense she had him, and looked down at her the way he knew she hated.
‘That’s right,’ she purred, but he knew her claws were out.
He smiled. Oh, she was begging to be taught a lesson. ‘You really think you could get away from a guy like me—if I set my mind to it.’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Prove it, then. Let me get twenty paces ahead, and then you try and skate by me. Let’s see if you’re really fast enough.’
Excitement kindled in her eyes, turning the emerald jewels into bright, liquid fire. ‘All right, then. You go ahead.’
He walked backwards so he didn’t break eye contact as he moved away from her. She waited, hands on hips in total defiance, as he stepped further away. But she had no idea what she was in for. He’d been on the first fifteen at school and at university. He knew how to tackle.
Twenty paces out, he turned away from her, every sense attuned. His hearing was especially acute, waiting for the rhythmic sound of her skates on the concrete. There it was—the strikes getting faster and louder as she neared. He stepped up his own pace, breaking into a run. As she drew abreast of him he put on an extra burst of speed.
He wasn’t stupid—this was a narrow stretch of path and she had to stay on the smooth surface to maintain her speed. So he blockaded—pushing her nearer the edge as she tried to pass. And just as her energy spurted he scooped one arm around her waist, half lifting her as he ran that bit faster, further to the side, until they both fell to the grass. Full body tackle. Relentless in his pursuit, he rolled so he was on top of her, clamping her arm between their bodies, completely stopping her escape. He cupped one hand over her mouth and held down her free arm with the other while he adjusted his position to trap her legs between his.
She shivered violently beneath him. His muscles locked tighter in response.
‘Gotcha,’ he ground out through teeth clenched in masculine victory. ‘No one’s come to your rescue, Nadia.’ His words slurred as all his predatory instincts celebrated, shutting down his brain and firing up his body. He kept his hand over her mouth. Tried not to enjoy having her at his mercy too much. But he failed on that one.
Beneath his tense bicep, her breasts rose and fell quickly.
‘It’s the middle of the damn day and you’re mine to do what I want with. In the morning, when you skate through here, there are even fewer passers-by. You’d have no chance.’
He felt the ripple in her body again, watched the green in her eyes deepen, some emotion welling up in her. But it wasn’t fear.
Oh, hell.
It swamped him too, obliterating all those intentions. He tried to hold on … meaning to prove that point. But he couldn’t remember what the point had been now. He knew what he wanted, but he was not going to—not going to.
He lifted his hand and quickly kissed her—hard.
And he groaned as quick became long and slow. He dived into the sensations—the hungry, soft mouth, the sweet slide of her tongue. His brain shut down completely as he was immersed in searing, delicious heat. For ever and a bit later he lifted his head and looked at her. Her tee had rucked up a bit when he’d tumbled her down, baring her midriff. Now he ran a single finger just above the snug waistband of her black leggings, loving the satin feel of her smooth warm skin. Loving the catch of her breath even more.
He watched her reaction—the increase in her pulse, the liquidity of her eyes—and went bolder still, firmly pressing the palm of his hand against her belly, feeling the response ripple through her. Oh, man, she had fire.
He slid his hand beneath that waistband and watched her mouth open in a silent oh. For a brief moment her eyes closed as he went lower, brazenly sliding his fingers right down into her pants.
Her whole body spasmed.
He paused, breathing hard as he felt her instinctive rocking up to meet his hand. She wanted him.
‘Don’t be too pleased with yourself,’ she panted, defiant to the end. ‘I’m always hot after I exercise.’
‘Oh, very hot.’ He delved deeper. Slow, exploratory strokes that he quickened when he felt how incredibly hot she was. Hot and wet and uncontrollably arching her hips to ride his touch.
She shrugged, but she had that drugged look. ‘It makes me more orgasmic.’
Ooooookay. ‘My touching you?’ He leaned closer to catch her breathless whisper.
‘No …’
‘No?’ He half laughed, half groaned as he massaged her wet heat, sliding his fingers deep and thumbing her sweet spot. ‘How close are you?’
‘Not … that close.’
He barely caught her answer she was so breathless. Ethan exulted in the fire escalating within her, flicked his fingers that bit faster. And incredibly, awesomely, that was all it took.
Her head arched back violently, her eyes closing as she clamped hot and tight, suddenly releasing hard and fast, a strangled moan slipping from her full lips.
‘Did you just come?’ Astounded, he had to ask to be sure. ‘I hardly did anything.’
And he was so excited he was about to make a fool of himself.
‘Like I said,’ she panted, opening her eyes—they glittered so bright they revealed nothing. ‘Exercise makes me more orgasmic. You know—the blood was already pumping.’
Oh, he wanted pumping. He wanted pumping right now. Only he was stuck in the middle of a public park and he had no chance of getting what he wanted in the next five minutes. His jaw ached because his teeth were clenched so hard. But he had to clarify her outrageous statement. ‘So you’re saying it wasn’t really me? That it was the exercise?’
Her shoulders lifted lazily.
He laughed, delighted with the appearance of her inner ball-breaker. She was totally angling to emasculate him. ‘So five minutes of skating got you to screaming point? Wow. That’s a good tip to know. You meant it when you said the wheels made you fast.’
