Contract for Marriage (11 page)

Splaying his palm across the wall, he reached with searching fingers until he found the switch and flicked the light on. She wasn’t there. In three short strides he’d made it to her balcony to discover Ruby was nowhere to be seen.

She’d definitely been in here when he came to bed. There had been water on the counter top in the bathroom. A drop of sweetly scented moisturizer on a towel. To leave her room completely she must’ve come back through his room while he was sleeping.

An unbidden image of her watching him in sleep coursed through his body. He had to find her.

He threw on a cotton robe and searched the entire house. His mother was fast asleep in her quarters, all the doors were locked, and Ruby’s car was in the driveway.

The swimming pool. Of course. His mind swung back to the first day he’d seen her in that white bikini, limbs long and supple. He let himself out the side doors and was soon standing on the pool deck—the slight movement in the water and the damp footprints on the dry wood decking gave her away.

He followed the footprint trail to the summerhouse and opened the door. “Ruby?”

“Christo!”

Standing in a pool of light she was covered in nothing but a white towel, her cheeks pink, mouth open in surprise. Her hair, which had been tied up so often lately, flowed damp and free about her shoulders. A wet bikini lay in a heap on the floor. His pulse spiked.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I couldn’t find you.” He ordered his vision to move from the curve of her collarbone to the delicate fingers gripping the towel.

With one hand she pulled the towel higher toward her neck. “The heat…I couldn’t sleep.”

He took a step forward and let the door close behind him. “You’re not comfortable in the room?”

“It’s fine.” The pulse at the base of her throat was rapid. “When I have my own entrance it’ll be better.”

He stepped closer. “You must’ve been very quiet when you walked through.”

She lowered her lashes. “I didn’t want to wake you.” Taking up another towel she began drying her hair.

He took a step back toward the door. She was fine. No need to stay. But something kept his feet rooted to the floor as his gaze moved across the room. Somewhere there must be a window open, as he could smell something sweet from the garden beyond.

“I remember this place,” he said. It was where she’d made her jewelry. Where her father had found them, bodies entwined. A deep, dark ache arose as that scene came to mind in vivid detail. “Do you remember the last time we were here?”

Ruby stopped, her hair tumbling over one shoulder as she lifted her chin. Silence filled the room, and each one of his nerves pounded with the knowledge of what she’d be thinking about right now. The intensity, the power, and the perfection when they’d come together that first and last time.

“I remember the night my father found us, Christo.” She looked him directly in the eye, her cheeks flushed. “It was a defining moment in my life.”

…

Something moved across Christo’s face as his eyebrow lifted. Surprise? Curiosity? She wasn’t sure.

“A defining moment?”

“Of course.” Her heart drummed against her breastbone. She twisted the smaller towel into a turban on her head and crossed her arms, suddenly feeling that more than her body was exposed. “That was the day my world changed.”

“Because you’d lost your virginity, you’d succeeded in shocking your father, and were rid of me in one night?”

She drew her tongue across dry lips. Maybe it was time to get all of this out in the open. They would be married tomorrow, and if they had any chance of making this crazy arrangement work, the future needed to be about looking forward, not avoiding the past that had defined their relationship until now.

“That night,” she began, but had to swallow hard to make her voice clear. “That night, Christo, I lost you, and I lost the respect of my father. I was so hurt and angry at you that I wanted you to hurt, too. And it was from those events that I found out the truth about my mother. That night was the catalyst for me to move out of home and to start my career.”

He leaned on the doorframe, his gaze dark and sexy. “But you said you’d slept with me to shock your father. Were you lying then or are you lying now? It’s one of the two, or maybe both. It’s difficult to tell with you.”

Despite the cool swim earlier, a new heat rose inside her. A heat that she needed to douse before it overtook all sense and reason. She thought back to her arrival today, to how relaxed and nonchalant Christo had been. Roommates. That’s all they’d ever be. “I need to get some sleep,” she said. “I’m going back to bed.”

He pushed off the frame and for a moment, the only sound was the chorus of cicadas calling in from the dark outside. Without Christo moving a muscle, she could feel his presence dominating the room, the power of his gaze searching every part of her body. If she could leave now they’d be married tomorrow and both have what they wanted. But the pull of him was growing ever stronger.

“It wasn’t all bad, was it, Ruby? You and me?” He took a step toward her, his black eyes shining in the dim light of the lamp.

She drew in a quick breath to steady the nerves dancing in her stomach. “Some of it was very memorable,” she managed.

He was within touching distance, and she couldn’t drag her gaze from the breadth of his chest beneath the cotton robe.

“Was it this that was memorable?” He grazed a finger down her cheek and she swallowed. “Or maybe this.” He stepped forward, bent down, and brushed his lips across hers.

Slowly she shook her head, despite her body aching for him to touch her again.

“Perhaps this.” He ran his hand down her neck and stopped where her breast swelled beneath the towel. Every thought in Ruby’s head scrambled. Why was it that she had to stay out of Christo’s bed? What would happen if she succumbed to the seismic pull his body held for hers right now?

Her mind wouldn’t provide her with an answer.

“Ruby—” He breathed her name then pressed his warm lips once more against hers, cupping the base of her neck in his broad palm. Running his tongue along her bottom lip, he pulled her closer, his hand slipping to her shoulders, and her body caught alight.

“Christo.” As his mouth moved to graze her throat, her pulse spiked and the promise she’d made earlier demanded to be heard. “We agreed we wouldn’t do this.”

She felt his mouth form a smile against her skin. “You said you wouldn’t make love when we were married,” he murmured, his lips moving to her earlobe. “We’re not.”

He pulled back for an instant and his eyes, sinful as black molasses, searched hers.

“This doesn’t change that,” she whispered while one of his fingers trailed fire along the skin above her towel.

“It doesn’t.” Did his tone rise or fall? Was it a question or a statement?

When his lips covered hers again she didn’t care. When she succumbed to the promise of his kiss, her senses were invaded in one overwhelming minute by the taste, the smell, the feel of his strong, tight body under her searching fingers. She was melting. As her hand slipped under his cotton robe to find the solid wall of his chest, it was as if his essence had been so burned into her all those years ago, and her deepest memory had never forgotten.

But she wanted more of him, the whole of him. She wanted the overwhelming thrill of being wrapped in Christo’s arms. Her mind emptied and the only thing filling her body was the power of him and the burning to draw him deep inside her body.

The sash windows in the small room were open, curtains puffing in as the hot, moist air rolled in from the night. His breath, rasping and warm, made hers hitch. Her mind raced forward to the thought of being under him, part of him.

He took both her hands so they were face to face. Slowly he inched her backward across the floor to the wall, his mouth getting closer to hers with every step as he dipped his face lower. Her feet light on the polished floor, she felt like she was floating and weightless.

Desperate to taste him again, she arched her neck but he stayed tantalizingly distant, teasing. Each of his fingers laced through one of hers, the edge of his mouth curved down as if his life depended on these next few moments.

With one last step backward, he pressed her into the wall and she waited for his lips to claim her. Mouth heavy with need, she swallowed in anticipation.

But his face stayed inches away, and slowly he lifted both arms above her head and pinned her, palm to palm, only the towel and his robe separating their skin. And then he looked deep in her eyes, and that look, that bone-melting look, sent a whisper directly to her soul.
I want you now
.

Christo was strong, confident, and certain of what he wanted, and it caused her limbs to weaken, her lips to open, and her breasts to ache.

He eased closer so that his chest was inches from hers, and her nipples peaked in readiness, the tucked in corners of the towel straining as she held a breath.

“Kiss me,” she half-begged. He leaned in and grazed her cheek with his stubble, the pleasure and pain of it shooting beats of desire across her skin. How had she survived so long without him? Without his touch? His warm breath played across her face, and she breathed deeper, wanting every part of him.

With his hands above her head, Christo claimed her mouth, and she searched the depths of his with her tongue. The taste of him was sweet as she played across his lips.

Moaning, he moved closer and pushed his knee between her legs, opening her to him, and she kissed him more hungrily in response. She writhed to get closer, but he held her fast.

“Stay where you are.” His voice was whisper close, and the command sent new chills across her skin. Raw desire tarnished the edge of his words, and the thought that he wanted her as much as she wanted him set her heart sprinting.

Doing as she was told, she kept her arms high as he let go and began to kiss a trail down her body. First her neck, where his teeth nicked her skin, then down to the top of the towel, where he stopped and let his fingers tease under the edge.

“You’re beautiful,” he growled. Unexpectedly, his fingers stilled. The ring of sincerity in his voice made Ruby’s head swim and tears stung the back of her eyes. The pain of wanting him became all encompassing. She bit down on her lip to hold back a cry.

He turned his head and kissed the skin of her décolletage. Above the towel, his lips worked across in fine, feathering movements until, right to her center, she ached for him.

Unable to keep from touching him any longer, Ruby lowered her hands and rested them in his hair. His movements were electrifying as he kissed her back and forth.

With heated blood, she guided his head to her breast and slowly, as if unwrapping a gift, he pulled open the top of the towel to survey the whole of her. Prickles of desire showered her body as he gently cupped one breast then, with the tip of his tongue, licked a trail to its peak. He took her in his mouth and sucked until she was ready to explode.

“Love those noises you make,” he whispered. She realized she’d been moaning.

Easing his head from her breast, she pulled him up and closer until she kissed his perfect mouth. Desperate, she pushed him toward the day bed. The heat from the soles of her feet made her stick to the floor, and her towel lay abandoned.

At the edge of the bed she pushed him backward, further, further, until he was sitting then lying on the soft cotton coverlet. Robe half-open, taut bronzed chest exposed, he looked like a Grecian warrior. Her breath shallow, Ruby crawled on top of him, hands supporting her on either side of his face.

Like a triumphant predator, she knelt over him, her heart drumming in her chest, skin slick with desire. Then she stilled. Christo, the man who’d filled her every dream for as long as she could remember, was a touch, a kiss, a heartbeat away, and the beauty of it caused tears to mist her vision as she touched her lips to his.

“Ruby.” He whispered her name as he came up for air from their kiss and tugged at his robe before throwing it to the floor. “I’d never make love without protection, but I have a check as part of my yearly physical.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I had a test when I found out I was pregnant.”

“I want you more than anything,” he said and flipped her under him so his arms were on either side of her body. It was the right angle for her to reach her hands up and around his waist, and the taut muscles there quivered as she touched him.

He moaned as she played her hand along the top of his boxers before she reached in, and her fingertips met the silky, heated length of him. He responded with a guttural sigh and laid a heated kiss in her hair. When he pulled back, the light from the lamp outlined his naked torso above her, and she was grabbed by a stark realization. She’d been touching him this way in her dreams for ten years. Wanting more, she pulled at his shorts. With one hand still by her body, Christo drew them off completely and flicked them to the floor.

Every inch of her skin yearned to be covered by his. As she strained to get nearer, he slid an arm under her shoulder. The slick between her legs and the rigid shape of him pressing against her… She couldn’t wait. She drew him into her.

Filled with him, she closed her eyes, but his voice, a low, throaty rumble, was insistent. “Look at me, Ruby.”

Her lids fluttered open to find his face close to hers, and again the tears threatened as the beauty of the moment overtook her. As she held his gaze, he began to thrust slowly, and each time she let her lashes drift down he whispered her name.

She rocked, and every sense flew higher. The touch, the taste, the smell of him. No one had made her feel like this before, so treasured and precious, so unselfishly desired. And when his groans came quicker, she held him tight, so tight that pleasure pounded through her again and again. Suspended for moments in surging bliss, she floated in mindless ecstasy until gradually, everything subsided.