A Convenient Husband (10 page)

‘Who needs sex when you have good old-fashioned friendship?' Rafe wondered harshly. The skin was stretched tightly over the sharp planes and intriguing angles of his strong face. Tess watched dry-mouthed as his breathing perceptively quickened.

‘Exactly. We won't even mention sex again,' she agreed miserably.

Her sensible smile faded and died as his hooded eyes continued to rest unblinkingly on her pale face. ‘Forbidden subject…?'

Tess nodded. She couldn't take her eyes from the erratic pulse that beat beside his mouth. The silence stretched on and on almost to breaking-point.

‘Tess…?' A fine sheen of moisture glistened on the bronzed skin of his face.

She could hardly make out the faraway sound of his curiously strained voice over the slow but thunderous pounding of her own heart.

‘Yes, Rafe?'

‘It's not important.' His eyes closed and his head went back, displaying the strong line of his throat. After a long tension-soaked moment he lifted it; his eyes were blazing with reckless purpose.

‘Yes!' he yelled. ‘Yes, it damn well is important! For pity's sake, woman! Kiss me!' he groaned thickly, lunging towards her.

With a small cry of relief Tess closed her arms tightly about his neck as he swung her up off the ground. She could feel the febrile tremors that ran through his lean body.

‘Tess…Tess…Tess…' He interspersed the fevered kisses he rained over her face with husky repetitions of her name.

‘I know this is slightly crazy, but, God help me,' he breathed against her ear, ‘I've got to do this or I'll…'

She didn't want his apologies, she wanted his kisses. ‘Me too,' she confessed ecstatically.

To the casual observer, the inarticulate but encouraging noises that emerged from her aching throat might have sounded like whimpers, but Rafe didn't seem to have any trouble interpreting them. He tightened his grip on Tess's pliant frame, drawing it closer to his body, which betrayed even more overtly than his lips did the driving urgency that held him in its grip.

The flurry of shock at discovering just how urgent Rafe was feeling dissipated as a flood of wild, sensual need washed over her. Tess's lips moved inexpertly but with boundless enthusiasm over the hard, clean-cut contours of his olive-skinned face, taking delight in the faintly salty taste of his flesh until their lips finally collided. The collision came not a moment too soon for her needs.

His teeth tugged at the soft, tender skin of her pink parted lips before, with a deep groan, his tongue plunged inside, plundering the moist, receptive warmth of her mouth. The shock of the contact slid so swiftly through her body, the fallout hit her toes even before she started kissing him back with a hunger and urgency that matched his.

Lips still attached to hers, Rafe cleared the table with a single sweeping gesture just before he sat her down on the hard surface.

‘We'll still be friends…'

Tess curled her legs around his slim hips and continued to press her lips to the smooth, strong column of his neck while nodding her enthusiastic agreement to his defiant observation.

‘That goes without saying.' She lifted her head and found his eyes had a hot, unfocused expression. On seeing that dark, dangerous look she felt a delicious shiver of anticipation join the tiny rivulets of sweat running down her quivering spine.

She let out an ecstatic cry and her body arched when his hand brushed against the engorged peak of one aching breast.

‘Hush,' he soothed thickly as she bit her lip. ‘You're so wonderfully sensitive,' he marvelled, his eyes on the point where her nipples protruded through the cotton covering of her dark top. As her lips began to move Rafe bent his head to catch her faint words.

‘If we were strangers I couldn't want you to do this.'

She insinuated her hand through the gap where two buttons on his shirt had parted company. Tess felt his powerful stomach muscles contract helplessly as she spread her fingers wide over his amazingly satiny skin. Rafe held her eyes as he hooked a finger under the top button of his shirt and pulled it down impatiently. Several buttons flung across the room as the fabric gaped open.

The breath caught in Tess's throat as her hot, slumberous gaze moved hungrily over his incredibly hard body. His skin glistened under its fine covering of sweat. There wasn't an ounce of surplus flesh to conceal the perfect muscle definition of his broad chest with its light sprinkling of dark hair and washboard-flat belly. Intermittent quivers ran visibly through his body, making the muscles just below the surface ripple. He was quite,
quite
perfect, she thought gloatingly.

‘You're right, we don't need the dinner dates and the awkward pauses. We don't need to waste time on all those tedious preliminaries.' If she didn't agree he was in deep trouble! ‘We already know everything there is to know about each other,' he panted, tugging her black tee shirt free of the waistband of her jeans and pushing his hands under the thin cotton. Her warm skin felt unbelievably smooth under his hands.

Tess's heavy eyelids lifted to reveal a sultry stare. ‘Not quite
everything
, but hopefully we will before much longer.' Her wicked throaty chuckle delighted him before it was lost inside the warmth of his mouth.

The big, strong hand that touched the side of her face wasn't quite steady. ‘It's a natural progression.'

Was he trying to convince himself? She didn't waste more than a second on that thought because she was just as eager as he was to skip the preliminaries and satisfy the primal urgency that seemed to have taken her over. She obligingly lifted her bottom to enable him to slide her jeans over her hips and down her legs. The truth be told, at that moment Tess would have agreed if he'd announced he were actually the true King of England.

‘It feels natural,' she confided throatily as he stopped kissing her long enough to pull her top over her head.

Rafe was struck by the truth in her pleasing observation, but he was in too much of a hurry to slow down and tell her so. He didn't bother unclipping her bra, just pushed down the lacy fabric that concealed her breasts from his hungry view.

A greedy, guttural sound emerged from low in his throat as her engorged breasts sprang free from their confinement. The feral sound made all the fine hairs over her body stand on end. Her quivering thighs opened to accommodate the knee he placed on the edge of the table. The friction as his knee nudged the highly sensitised area between her legs made her gasp; it was a raw, fractured sound.

Either the faint noise had been abnormally amplified or his senses were highly attuned to her because Tess found his eyes immediately sought hers.

‘Sorry, I was clumsy.' He made a minor adjustment that relieved the pressure.

‘You're anything but clumsy,' she breathed appreciatively. ‘And that's not flattery,' she added forcefully, ‘it's fact!' she explained with fervour.

‘I stand corrected.' He reached down and his fingers slowly slid under the lacy edge of her pants to touch the ultra-sensitive skin of her inner thigh. ‘Did I hurt you here…?' He pushed the fabric aside and let his fingers touch the sweet, damp heat. His delicate, teasing touch pushed Tess to the very limit of pleasure and beyond; every muscle in her abdomen contracted in unison, she simply melted.

‘So slick, so hot…You want this…you want me…?'

‘That has to be the most ridiculous thing you've ever asked me!' she told him hoarsely.

He responded with a look so primitive and predatory that a low keening cry was wrenched from deep inside her.

‘I…you,
please
, Rafe!' she panted.

Rafe didn't seem to have any trouble deciphering her inarticulate plea. For a moment he watched her pale body writhe sinuously beneath him. Then, with one foot still on the floor, his body curved fully over hers and he pushed her slowly backwards until she lay there with her hair spread out around her delicately flushed face.

His eyes moved hungrily over the slender contours of her almost naked body. Perversely the tiny scraps of lace stretched across her lower body and beneath her breasts made her appear more naked, more
his
.

He fought with the last dregs of his control to subdue the primitive desire to possess that stretched every nerve and sinew in his body to breaking-point. Slow and gentle had its place, but that place wasn't here and now. On the other hand he didn't want to spoil things by rushing her.

He watched with covetous, burning eyes the rise and fall of her deliciously rounded pink-tipped breasts. Slowly he touched the side of one quivering mound before his mouth moved hungrily to the rosy swollen peak.

The sight of his dark head against the pale skin of her breasts was the most erotic thing Tess had ever seen. She cried out as his tongue lashed and his lips expertly teased.

She lay there in a delicious sensual haze until the pleasure centres of her brain finally overloaded. She simply couldn't take any more of this! Frantically she clutched awkwardly at the smooth golden skin that covered his broad back. Her nails left raised red grooves as they slid down the powerful curve before coming to rest on the taut firmness of his behind.

‘If you don't do something I'll die!' She genuinely believed what she said and it showed.

‘You won't be alone,' he rumbled.

Tess was vaguely conscious of him adjusting his clothing before he slid his hands under her buttocks. She heard the sound of tearing fabric an instant before he settled between her legs; she felt the hard tip of his arousal against her belly. The stark reality of what she was about to do hit her then; what surprised her most was that it didn't scare her.

Fingernails inscribing small half-moons in the delicate flesh of her palms, she lifted her arms up over her head. ‘I want to see…' There was stark appeal in the feverish eyes she lifted to his face. Intent on increasing the intimate contact, she shifted and rotated her hips restlessly beneath his.

Rafe covered her hands with his and pinioned them either side of her head. ‘You want to see what…?'

‘You.'

It was the most incredible thing to see him slide slowly into her, until to all intents and appearances they were one. It was even more incredible, not to mention indescribably pleasurable, that her body could accommodate him. She was sobbing from the wonder of it when she raised her eyes to his. If it never got any better than this, it was still the most marvellous she'd ever felt in her life.

‘Is this the sort of something you had in mind?'

She shook her head—the words hadn't been invented that could accurately describe anything this mind-blowingly erotic! Besides, she didn't trust herself to open her mouth because she was experiencing an almost incapacitating desire to say she loved him.

‘And this sort of something…?'

He began to move. Tess closed her eyes tightly as things began to get very much better indeed! She was never quite sure, but she thought she might have screamed something to that effect just before his slow thrusts—it seemed impossible that such a big man could move with such incredible controlled precision—became more vigorous.
Much
more vigorous.

Then there were no thoughts at all, just the fierce, primitive rhythm that swept her along until a shattering climax ripped through her. Barely seconds later she heard Rafe cry out and felt his release pulse deep within.

Now she was here she could understand why they'd both been in such a hurry to reach the journey's end.

‘W
HAT
are you doing?' Tess protested as Rafe bundled her and as many stray items of clothing as came within his grasp up into his arms.

She'd been quite content—well, a bit more than content, actually—to lie there beneath his heavy, sweat-slick body and enjoy the extraordinary intimacy of the quiet following the storm.

And what a storm!
Tess had never imagined she would find herself in a situation, or with a man, who could make her forget her natural inhibitions and behave with such wonderful, wanton abandon.

Control had never been something Tess had had to work hard at; she had buckets of the stuff. How could surrender be fulfilling erotically or otherwise? From her comfortable position of smug security she had never been able to understand how women of her acquaintance—women who in every other way were strong and confident—could allow and actively
desire
to surrender that control to a man. Now she knew…
boy, oh, boy, did she know
!

The memory of the driving, all-consuming need to be possessed still had an almost surreal quality to it. There was nothing surreal, however, about the warm ache of fulfilment that was snugly curled up low in her belly. The total belief that Rafe had been just as much a helpless victim of his desires as she had been of hers made her feel neither victim or defeated; in fact she'd never dreamt that this sort of fulfilment existed!

She was vaguely aware that she ought to feel embarrassed. Maybe I will, she mused, when I'm able to think about what happened with cold, clinical objectivity. Tess had never felt quite this far away from clinical objectivity in her life! Mellow didn't begin to describe the warm, satisfied glow that engulfed her. She'd never considered herself the uptight sort, but this was a new experience for her…and not the first of the day, she mused, a small smile tugging at the corners of her generous mouth.

‘To bed.'

There was no sexual significance to his prosaic reply, but heat flooded her body. As foolish as it obviously was, she couldn't deny that the sound of his deep voice seemed to be enough to send a shudder of desire all the way down to her curling toes.

‘Isn't that a bit like shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted?' She swallowed to lubricate the dryness of her throat, watching Rafe move to lock the door.

‘Do you fancy any Tom, Dick or Harry walking in to find you stretched out on the kitchen table?' he enquired.

Tess felt the first stirrings of unease threaten to spoil her laid-back mood. And small wonder, she reflected. He'd managed to conjure up a painfully stark image.

‘What a tasteless comment,' she complained.

‘Crude but accurate.'

There was no arguing with that even though she'd have liked to.

Rafe used her silence to elaborate on his theme—quite unnecessarily, as far as she was concerned. ‘Can you imagine how swiftly that story would spread around the village?'

Tess grimaced; she could. ‘I'd have to move house.' She wasn't entirely joking.

‘That might not be such a bad idea,' he observed cryptically just before he dumped her on the bed.

Tess lay there in an unselfconscious tangle of pale naked limbs puzzling over what he'd said. ‘What do you mean?' she began.

It was the expression on Rafe's lean face as he looked down at her that made her lose the thread. It also made her intensely conscious of every inch of naked flesh she was casually flaunting.

Of course he was staring; she was female and naked. Given the opportunity, wouldn't most men stare at a naked woman?
Any
naked woman—
any
being the significant word here. Testosterone would win over manners every time.

‘I wish you wouldn't look at me like that,' she fretted with a disapproving frown.

‘Like what?' he asked, without shifting the focus of his attention.

‘Like you're salivating.'

A laugh was wrenched from him. ‘Not visibly, I hope?'

‘You doing anything that wasn't aesthetically pleasing…I don't think so!' He had to be the most naturally elegant creature she'd ever laid eyes on, she decided. Furthermore his grace was totally unstudied, an intrinsic part of him. No wonder she often felt challenged in the grace department in his company. ‘I'm sure you look pretty damned great with egg on your face.'

Even though her spiky observation sounded more like a criticism than a compliment, her eyes were eating up every detail of his appearance. Tiny insignificant things delighted and fascinated her, like the oval-shaped mole just above his right nipple, and the way…dear God, Tess, anyone would think you were in love or something! Her eyes widened in acute anxiety. No, I can't be, not now…not with Rafe!

‘You're very kind, but all the same that's a situation I prefer to avoid…Just to be on the safe side, you understand.'

Tess didn't respond to the whimsy.

‘Are you all right?' Rafe frowned. The colour had fled so dramatically from her face that he thought for an uncomfortable couple of seconds she was going to pass out. Women didn't normally look as though they were about to throw up after he'd made love to them.

‘I'm fine…absolutely fine!' Her voice cracked comically on the last syllable.

Her squeaking response didn't make Rafe smile; his angular jaw set stubbornly. He refused point-blank to believe that she was regretting what had happened. He wouldn't damn well let her!

‘You have to expect a bit of drooling, Tess, when you're flaunting your beautiful body like this.' His fierce grin showed signs of strain just before Tess, unable to stand the exposure any longer, slid awkwardly under the covers, her cheeks burning.

A classic case of too little too late, she thought, feeling ridiculously gauche. It's not as if there is much he hasn't already seen, and even less he hasn't touched.

‘That wasn't a complaint. However,' Rafe conceded with a regretful sigh, ‘it will make it easier to talk, and we do need to talk.'

Easier for whom? she wondered. Rafe might have pulled on his trousers, though he hadn't stopped to fasten his belt, but he wasn't wearing his shirt. A face full of perfect pectorals made it hard for a girl to concentrate. Lust she could cope with, she told herself briskly—it was the other
L
word that made her jumpy.

‘Talk…about what?' Not the start of a deep and meaningful relationship—that went without saying. She ignored the first stirrings of dissatisfaction in her breast. He was probably worried she'd start getting emotional and clingy, so now probably wasn't the moment to tell him.

‘You don't have to worry, Rafe, I know it didn't mean anything.' She managed a creditably light-hearted smile. He looked unaccountably annoyed, which seemed pretty unreasonable even by his standards.

‘I can see the attractions of your strategy,' he reflected thoughtfully.

Talk of
strategy
came as a surprise to Tess, who was having trouble with the simplest of mental processes. ‘What strategy?' she puzzled.

‘If you think someone's about to kick you where it hurts, get the boot in first.'

To listen to him talk anyone would think she'd wounded him. She brushed aside that ludicrous piece of wishful thinking. ‘Since when did you get so sensitive? I'm sorry if you think I was being too blunt, but it's a bit late in the day for us to start pretending.'

‘That would be foolish,' he agreed gravely.

Tess bit her lip. He was literally oozing polite disbelief.

‘I'm trying to keep this as painless as possible,' she reproached. ‘There's bound to be a bit of…awkwardness involved when you sleep with someone you've been friends with. I'm only trying to make this easier for you. I'm sure you've got too much on your plate to want any added
complications
—I know I have.'

Right now she needed to devote all her energy to the Ben dilemma. There had never been a less appropriate time to pursue her own selfish pleasures. ‘At least we don't have to worry about unwanted pregnancies.' Smiling about this was one of the hardest things she'd ever done. And what did she get for her efforts…? He didn't even look relieved.

‘Actually, I've no interest in debating how empty and meaningless you found our love-making.'

‘Don't put words into my mouth!' she protested.

‘Now there's a sentiment I can identify with,' Rafe came back grimly. He fixed her with a stern, unblinking stare and wasted no more time before introducing the subject that had been and still was uppermost in his mind. ‘The celibacy thing…just what sort of time scale are we talking here?' he enquired with deceptive casualness.

Nothing could have sounded more offhand than her response…possibly too offhand, she worried. ‘A while…' She threaded the fringe of the brightly coloured throw around her finger before arranging it in an artistically pleasing pattern against the white sheet.

‘A
long
while…? Will you stop doing that?' he rapped abruptly, snatching the material from her restless fingers and seating himself on the side of the bed.

‘It might be,' she conceded defiantly.

He watched the flicker of emotion run across her deeply expressive face and cursed. It didn't seem possible, but deep down he'd known that against all the odds he was right! Worse still, part of him—the politically incorrect, Neanderthal part—had felt a primitive gloating delight at the notion of being the first.

‘There's no need to swear!'

Rafe thought there was every need. ‘A long time as in never?' He hit his forehead with his hand before dragging it through his thick mop of glossy dark hair. The expression on her face had said it all!

‘And if it is?' she challenged, lifting her hot-cheeked face to his. ‘So what? There's certainly no need to hold an inquest.'

‘We'll have to agree to differ on that one.'

‘So what's new?' she flung at him carelessly. ‘Since when have we ever agreed on anything?' He was the most unreasonable person she knew. Being friends is hard enough—whatever made me think that being lovers would work out any better? That argument lost its validity when she reluctantly acknowledged that
thinking
hadn't had a whole lot to do with it at the time! Now, if you were talking blind lust, compulsion, frenzied urgency…

Rafe's chiselled nostrils flared as his sensual lips thinned. ‘I can't believe you gave away something you obviously valued so highly so casually!'

Was Rafe of all people lecturing her on morals?

‘It wasn't casual!' she yelled, coming up onto her knees and drawing the sheet with her up to her chin.

The wariness in his sharp glance made her realise how easily what she had said could be misinterpreted…or not…?

‘I didn't mean
casual
exactly,' she contradicted swiftly.

‘I meant this was different…obviously.'

‘Obviously?' he enquired unsmilingly.

‘It had been a very stressful twenty-four hours for us both.' She gave an exasperated sigh as a stony-faced Rafe failed to display any appreciation of the point she was trying to make. ‘A series of freak circumstances.'

‘Not to mention insatiable lust.'

‘All right!' she exclaimed. ‘Insatiable lust. There! Does that make you feel any better?' He'd made her feel better—a
lot
better, and now he was spoiling it with this interrogation. ‘It's not like I was waiting for Mr Right or anything,' she assured him scornfully.

‘Well, you wouldn't be, would you?' he bit back.

‘Am I supposed to know what the hell you're getting at?'

‘I'm saying the victim look does nothing for you,' he announced brutally.

‘I don't think of myself like that!' Tess exclaimed, genuinely horrified that anyone could think she cultivated a martyred attitude.

‘No?'
Rafe's dark brows arched sceptically. ‘You talk like you're some sort of cripple…not quite a
whole
woman.'

His accusation stung. ‘I'm just being realistic. I'm sorry if it makes you feel uncomfortable.'

‘Realistic!' Rafe found himself responding furiously.

‘Self-pitying, more like, but don't expect me to make any concessions for your
disability
! Thousands of people live perfectly productive, happy lives with
real
disabilities. You can't have a baby—'

‘So what!'
she jumped in. How could a man, especially one as selfish and insensitive as Rafe, begin to understand?

‘Is that what you're saying?'

‘I'm saying that it's tough and unfair, but then that's life. The fact you can't have babies is part of what you are, like the colour of your eyes, it's not
who
you are.' His voice had become surprisingly gentle and Tess felt her throat grow tight with emotion. ‘There's always adoption…?' Two slashes of colour stained the sharp angle of his cheekbones as he watched her blink back the tears that sparkled in those vulnerable green depths. ‘Anyhow, you certainly felt all woman to me.' His abrupt tone suggested she'd done this just to aggravate him.