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“No.” He reached out and undid the top button of her dress, and suddenly she didn’t have the strength to argue with him. She stood there and let him undress her. She wanted him to do it. Wanted him to undo all the buttons and feel his touch on her skin. Wanted to give all of herself to him.
His hands were sure and never missed a beat as they slid down from one button to the next, opening the material wider, more fully. For him.
She could see the pulse in his neck thumping wildly and she wanted to reach out and run her finger over it. Touching him would be like throwing a match onto kerosene.
He pushed the material off her shoulders and let it slide down her arms, down her body, to the carpet. She heard him groan as she stood there in a lacy bra, bikini panties, no stockings, and high-heeled sandals. For a moment she wished she’d worn them. It may have put up a barrier.
But who was she kidding? Nothing was going to stop this. She didn’t want it to stop, God help her.
“I like the color peach on you,” he murmured, his eyes flaring with hot desire. “It flatters you.”
She moaned and whispered, “Touch me,” and he suddenly swung her in his arms, carrying her over to the large mahogany desk. With one hand he swept the papers aside, then planted her in the middle of it. Her stomach somersaulted as he stood looking down at her.
“I’ve fantasized you like this for weeks,” he murmured, reaching out to twine his fingers in her hair, loosening the blonde strands at the nape of her neck. “And this,” he said, lifting her hair up in his hands, then leaning forward and burying his face in her locks, inhaling deeply.
She stilled, breathing in the mingled scent of his body heat and aftershave as it soaked into her pores … until the soft peck of his lips moved to her ear, to her jawline and finally her mouth again.
Eventually he broke off the kiss. “Here, let me,” he murmured, his fingers sliding under her bra straps and slowly pushing them off her shoulders.
She trembled when his palms caressed the bare skin there before slipping around to her back to undo the catch. Her bra fell away, and suddenly she was naked from the waist up. She wanted to hide, not from him but from herself. She didn’t know if she could let herself go like this.
“Beautiful,” he said in a gravelly voice, teasing her breasts with his hands until her breathing quickened even more and she had to close her eyes from sheer pleasure.
His head lowered, his mouth closing over one nipple, and she gasped, her breasts surging at the intimacy of it all.
“Brant!”
He pulled back, his eyes searing a path over her. And then he moved and his lips followed that same path, kissing down the center of her, teasing her belly button with the tip of his tongue before stopping at the top of her thighs.
He inhaled deeply through the thin lace, and she almost dissolved. She’d never done anything like this before. Never let a man do this to her. She’d had one lover in high school and nothing since.
He pushed the material to one side. “I have to taste you,” he said, his fingers seeking her, opening her to him. He placed his mouth against her, and she cried out his name as his tongue darted out to taste her, explore her, tracing the shape of her, teasing the small part of her that suddenly felt as if she were about to explode.
“Oh, Brant,” she moaned again. She closed her eyes as something powerful inched up inside her with every touch of his tongue. It felt so good … so right … so exquisite.
“Ooh!” She exploded with one more stroke, going up in flames like a bushfire sweeping through her, burning everything in sight, leaving nothing of her unmarked. She would never be the same again, never forget what it was like to have this man touch her like this.
And when she opened her eyes, Brant was leaning back in the chair, watching her with such possessive satisfaction that her breath caught in her throat.
Her heart gave a triple beat. She wanted to look away, only she couldn’t. There’d been too much between them all these weeks. Too much longing. Too much wanting each other. They’d earned this moment between them.
Brant spoke first. “Here, let’s get you dressed,” he said brusquely and gently closed her legs.
“Oh, but …” She could feel her cheeks growing red as he passed her bra. “I mean … urn … aren’t we going to …?”
“Make love? Not yet.” He stood up and helped her off the desk as intense disappointment swept through her. She went to turn away, but he held her still. “My place. Seven o’clock.”
She blinked. “To-tonight?”
“Yes.” He ran a finger across her lips, his eyes a mixture of need and still-deep anger. “No more waiting. For either of us. And I can’t do everything I want to do to you in the office.”
She swallowed, suddenly panicked by the magnitude of it all. He overwhelmed her. He made her feel things she didn’t want to feel. Made her do things she wanted to do.
“No, I can’t. I—”
“I’ve put my stamp on you now, Kia. You can’t deny that.”
She sucked in a shaky breath, very much aware he was right. “Brant, this was just a … brief interlude.”
“It was a prelude,” he insisted, putting his hand under her chin. “You were ready for me a minute ago,” he reminded her, and she almost dissolved again.
“Yes, well …” She cleared her throat. “That was then. This is now.”
His eyes darkened dangerously. “Kia, we should have been lovers weeks ago.”
Her shoulders tensed. She could see his anger over Phillip still simmering beneath the surface. “Even if you hadn’t thought I was with Phillip, it doesn’t mean—”
“Yes, it does,” he cut across her. “Have no doubts, Kia. We would have been lovers. You’re only fooling yourself if you think otherwise.”
To prove it, his hands slid around her waist and brought her close. Her body immediately arched against him, her near-naked curves tucking in against his hard contours. Heat rippled under her skin and jolted her mind into the realization that once again he was right. She pushed herself away, and thankfully he let her go, but the smoldering look in his eyes said it all.
Trying to maintain her composure, she hurried around the desk to get the rest of her clothes, feeling exposed in more ways than one. His gaze remained on her, watching her every move, and she silently shuddered as she dressed as fast as she could.
“Kia.”
She did up the last button, then looked up at him. The hunger in his eyes sent a tremor through her.
“You owe this to yourself,” he growled, challenge in his voice.
Kia made her way back to her office on shaky legs and collapsed onto her chair. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. Had she really let herself be taken in such a way? No man had made love to her with his mouth before, though she knew it was an aspect of lovemaking that most couples enjoyed. Dear God, now she could see why.
What she hadn’t expected was to come apart in Brant’s hands quite the way she had. Where was her control? Her self-respect? She’d known she was a challenge to him. That he only wanted her body. So what had she done? She’d handed herself to him on a platter, that’s what.
Or a desk, she corrected, feeling a blush rising up from the tips of her toes. How could she hold her head high now? Suddenly she knew she had to get out of there. She’d earned the right to leave early … in more ways than one.
Jumping to her feet, she grabbed her handbag and headed for the door. If she remained here alone with Brant, he might be tempted to take up where they’d left off and not wait for tonight.
Tonight.
You owe this to yourself, he’d said.
He was right, yet how could she turn up at his place when he thought she was a gold digger? Had thought it from the start. A woman who was mercenary enough to use men for her own advantage. That hurt.
So why did her heart turn over at the thought of not making love with Brant?
Brant tossed the pencil on the desk. He needed to get these reports out, but his mind kept dropping back to Kia. Could he accept she wasn’t a gold digger? Her answers had made sense, but isn’t that what con artists did? They conned you into believing what they wanted you to believe.
And all these weeks she’d been living a lie by pretending to be involved with Phillip. Had even let herself become engaged to him. Just as Julia had lived a lie. Until she’d run off with his own brother.
Hell. He thought he’d been hearing things when Kia had told Lynette she didn’t love Phil the way a woman should love a man. She’d lied to him, dammit. He’d asked her straight out if she loved her fiancé and she’d said yes.
Why? Because she knew he’d have her in bed in no time, that’s why. She wouldn’t be able to help herself. She’d wanted to make love with him, too.
Yet how different she’d been to the experienced women he usually bedded. Women who proudly strutted their stuff. Women who took the initiative, the way he liked. Women who hadn’t shattered in his arms as Kia had. Her passion, her innocence in this way, convinced him she hadn’t been with a man or come alive under a man’s mouth in years. That was something in her favor. Surely a gold digger wouldn’t hesitate to use her body to get men to fall in love with her? Oh, hell. He just didn’t know what to think anymore.
What he did know was that she’d been perfect. Had tasted better than perfect. It’s the reason he’d held himself in check and not taken her fully as he’d ached to do. He wanted to love her slowly, take his time, make up for all those weeks of aching. Tonight he’d brand her with his body and make her his.
When he opened the door to his penthouse that evening, Brant almost forgot to breathe. The soft blue material of Kia’s dress bared her tanned shoulders and arms and fell lovingly over the length of her body to just above her knees, in a simple design that would have looked plain on another woman. Yet on her it looked stunning. She couldn’t look unattractive if her life depended on it.
He stepped back to allow her to enter. “Relax. I’m not going to ravish you on the spot,” he said, even if the thought was more than tempting.
She moved past him in a cloud of perfume that was endlessly alluring, then stopped in the middle of the room and faced him, the light of battle entering her eyes. “That’s a relief,” she quipped, a becoming flush staining her cheeks.
He closed the door, knowing he could always count on her to be defiant even in the most difficult of circumstances. And this had to be the most difficult for her ever. But her uncertainty didn’t change a thing. They would make love tonight.
“Take a seat while I pour you a drink.” He gestured to the black leather sofa. “Gin and tonic, right?”
“Extra large.”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” he drawled. “I don’t want you to forget a moment of tonight. I certainly don’t intend to.”
She moistened her lips. “Brant, I think this is a mistake. I shouldn’t have come.”
“It isn’t a mistake. It’s called being grown-up. It’s about being adults over a situation that we both clearly need to address.”
Her chin rose in the air. “I thought it was more childlike when you give in and take what you want.”
“Ah, so you admit you want me,” he said as he poured the drinks at the bar.
She glared at him. “I think we should leave things as they are. My being here will only complicate matters.”
He picked up the glasses of liquid and walked toward her. “A complication I’ll willingly embrace, if you’ll pardon the pun.”
She ignored that as she accepted her glass. “How do you know I won’t be faking it? After all, I faked the engagement and you never knew the difference, for all your extensive experience.”
“I suspected something was amiss.”
Her mouth set in a stubborn line. “I did it for a reason. To help Phillip.”
“And to keep me at arm’s length.”
“It worked.”
“And now it doesn’t. Accept it.”
Her blue eyes lit with anger. “Look, you said yourself that I’m a gold digger. If you want a woman tonight, why pick on me? Wouldn’t any body do?”
His amusement deserted him. “No,” he said tersely. No other woman in the world would do. It was the reason he hadn’t returned any of his women friend’s calls. Why he hadn’t made love in weeks now. The reason he’d thrown himself into his work even harder. And why he’d been so bloody snappy with everyone lately. It just hadn’t been humane that the one woman who turned him on had been involved with his business partner.
He expelled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Yes, she had been involved with Phil. Had been untouchable. Had been out of reach.
But she was no longer.
He nodded at the sliding glass doors. “Let’s go out on the balcony. We can have dinner out there.”
Her shoulders stiffened. “I’m not hungry.”
“Then perhaps we should give dinner a miss?”
She immediately stepped forward and strode past him to the balcony, her set mouth telling him what she thought of that idea.
“I figured that would change your mind,” he murmured, following her over to the railing, where she stood looking out over the spectacular sunset view of Mindil Beach and Darwin Harbor. It was glorious out here at any time of year, but during the beginning of the wet season, like now, he loved watching the incredible lightning displays that lit up the sky most nights.
Yet tonight the only thing he wanted to light up was the woman standing next to him. He turned to look at her. The evening sun reflected on the delicate contours of her face, giving her a special glow, making her look more beautiful.
“Do you have to look at me like that?” she said in a throaty voice, a blush creeping into her cheeks.
“Yes,” he said huskily. Right now he didn’t think he’d ever get enough of looking at her.
She swallowed hard. “You’re not making this any easier for me.”
“Nothing worthwhile is ever easy.”
She turned to face him, her expression growing resentful. “That’s the attraction, isn’t it, Brant? You couldn’t have me, so you decided you wanted me.”
“I admit I like a challenge.” His eyes dipped to her parted lips. “But wanting you wasn’t a decision I chose to make. I took one look at you and knew the decision had already been made for me.”
“How nice,” she said with false sweetness.
He smiled. She could fight herself all she liked, but it wouldn’t make one speck of difference. She would be in his arms tonight. And in his bed. He was sure of that.
“Shall we eat?” he said and took great pleasure in placing his hand under her elbow to lead her over to the small dining table in the middle of the balcony. Her shiver was from desire, he saw it in her eyes, and it sent a hunger for more than food racing through him. But he could wait. He wanted to savor her first.
They dined on prawn cocktail as an entrée, followed by a grilled lamb with zucchini and tomatoes that his housekeeper had made. Brant watched in amusement over Kia’s attempt to go slow as she chewed each mouthful as though it was the last food she’d ever eat.
“This is very good,” she said, taking another tiny bite of the lamb. “Did you cook this yourself?”
He shot her a mocking smile. “Do I look like a cook?”
She stiffened. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with cooking. Lots of men like to do it.”
“And lots of men like to make love,” he said, purposefully seductive. “How many men have made love to you, Kia?”
She almost choked, then recovered quickly. “How many have you made love to?”
“I don’t find men attractive. Now women, that’s more my style.”
Her eyes filled with derision. “I guess it’s more an art form than a technique with you then.”
