Everything You Want: Everything For You Trilogy 2 (20 page)

My arms wrap tightly round his neck and he carries me down with him to the soft cool grass. He covers my body heavily with his and pushes me slowly into the ground as if he would make me part of the living earth. I give way beneath him.

“I want you,” he mumbles into my neck. He lifts his head to stare into my eyes. “Any man that looks at you is my rival. Anyone that touches you is my enemy.”

He claims me again. So possessive. I am his property. He will not tolerate me giving away any part of me that he believes belongs to him. This is what confuses me so much.

“If I’m yours then take me.” I want only to be his.

He moves down my body kissing and stroking. It’s as if he wants to place fingerprints all over me. Cover me in DNA. When he bites into my flesh he makes sure I’m marked, sucking my inner thigh hard enough to make me whimper yet unwilling to stop. I don’t care. I tear at his hair and still he continues.

He raises his head and snarls at me. “You will know you’re mine.” He’s like a ravening wolf claiming fresh kill.

“How will I know?” I taunt him with words as he taunts me with his body.

He rips the panties down my legs and I squirm to remove them beneath the strength of his feral attack. I have only enough time to pull one ankle free.

“Leave it.” He kneels between my open legs in a second.

He knows I’m ready for him by instinct, by experience. When he palms his hot erect flesh and looks at me wildly, I will him to me and wait. But I see the harsh mask of control descend over his features. This is the
Boss
. And I don’t know him.

I thrust my hips upwards demanding.

“Will I leave you like this to punish you?”

The
Boss
is cruel. He understands my fears. He knows how to test me. He knows my weaknesses. But I’m changing. I won’t give him the chance. I scramble to my knees, push him backwards and straddle him. I place my hand over his closed fist, teasing and tempting his flesh as we battle silently for control. I’m learning my own power.

I adjust position until I feel the heat of his body. Slick with longing, I need him inside me. I negotiate with everything I have.

“Take me, Jack. Make me yours.” I moan and twitch as his thumb sweeps across my sensitive nerves claiming supremacy over me.

“I can keep you like this forever,” he warns. He sounds wounded. Have I hurt him? Laurent’s kiss was no more my fault than Ben Gunn’s. Or is Jack’s wild reaction part of something greater, that I just don’t understand?

I lose my nerve to bargain. “I need you.”

My arms snake round him and I pull myself into him. I tease mercilessly with my tongue at his bristled throat, with my fingers scratching his hard nipples. I undulate in soft persuasion against his iron resolve. But he resists everything I have. He wants me to understand his greater power over me.

“What do you want from me, Tabitha?”

“Everything.” It’s the only truth I know.

“Then have it. Bleed me dry.”

He enters fast. Each prevailing thrust throws me upwards but he claws me back down over him again. And again. He drives me to the brink of my mind’s annihilation.

“I want to come,” he groans the words he spoke earlier and loses his fight to resist. “With you.” His hard penetration and teasing shift of angle, sends me over the edge.

My whole body contracts and we’re together and apart at the same time falling through nothingness. As I grind my pelvis against his eruption, he intakes air between his teeth on a sharp hiss. Each muscular contraction drives him closer until he’s crushing me against him.

I cannot move. He will not. The sun sinks below the horizon and we’re locked together in dusky twilight. He doesn’t kiss me or caress me when he pulls away but pushes me to my feet and stands adjusting his clothing. I look around for my dress.

“You wanted to walk back naked,” he reminds me.

So I am being punished and I’m not exactly sure what for. He’s too smart for me. How can I argue when I don’t know what it is I should protest? I begin to think any plans I might formulate to make Jack love me will be more difficult to realise than I imagine. The nearer we get to returning to Belvedere the more Jack slips away. The place I ran from the
Boss
is the place I’ll have to confront him again. I truly do love a monster. My own personal Jekyll and Hyde: sweet Jack and the
Boss
he changes into.

I pull the panties from my ankle, right them and step into them again, daring him to stop me with a glare. Although I spot it lying in the grass, I walk straight past my dress. Compromise is the best way forward for now, I decide.

He follows me all the way back. I head straight up to bed and close the door in his face but as I climb into bed he opens the door again. To my disappointment he doesn’t come in.

“We’re leaving at seven. Make sure you’re ready.” He pauses. “That’s a.m.” No mixed messages.

“Seven in the morning?” I squeak sarcastically. Punching my pillow, I flop back into it, huffing and keeping my face turned away from him. I spend the rest of the night alone for my protest.

I’ll never forget this weekend, that’s for sure. I’ve argued and cried, had a hangover, been sorrier than a sinner, laughed, discovered a feminine confidence I never knew I had and had my lust magnificently sated. Jack has shared in all of it.

And I got engaged.

If only it was real, this would have been the best weekend of my life.

If I want Jack I’m going to have one hell of a fight on my hands. But tonight, for the first time, I’m ready. He’s made me more ready than he realises. I climb out of bed and march straight to where I know Jack will be. I could find him anywhere too.

I crash through the door of the study as his eyes shoot up to meet mine. I’m still wearing nothing but panties. I slam the lid down on his laptop as I round the desk and his fingers only just escape once more. I move like a tornado.

I kiss him on the lips.

Hard.

I slap his face even harder.

“Goodnight, Jack. Seven a.m.”

I flounce out the way I came in before he knows what’s hit him. Let him wonder, this time, what
he’s
being punished for.

Chapter Nine

I’m awake in time to see the sun break over the horizon.

It dawns on me too, this is the last chance I’ll ever get to witness the glorious sight from the window of my bedroom at the chateau. Yet I feel a sense of calm. Uncertain if the deep and undisturbed sleep I had last night was due to fresh air and exercise, of different kinds, I got yesterday or more about my new resolve to fight for what I want, I set to packing. There’s nothing much here I’ll need in London, but I’m unlikely to be returning any time soon.

If ever.

I stuff the ripped panties into the back of a drawer as my unwelcome gift to Amanda if I fail to win Jack’s heart. But I will not, if I have anything to do with it.

I find the knee-length black wool and silk A-line dress and jacket that I fled Belvedere in a week ago, hung up in the wardrobe. It seems fitting to wear it for my return. I study myself in the mirror, every inch the smart business woman I aim to be. Without a trace of lip gloss.

I head to the kitchen and Jack enters to the sight of me making coffee; a reversal of last Friday. He’s wearing a dark business suit too. The last time I saw him dressed like that he was chasing my taxi as I fled Belvedere. It’s almost as if time has warped.

“You’re awake then.” I parody his own former greeting to me. How things have changed in one weekend. “Coffee?”

He stares at me strangely as if remembering the event too. “Please.” He rubs his clean-shaven jaw like he’s still wondering at the unexpected slap I gave him last night.

I mash my lips together. It makes a change for me to unnerve him. “I’m ready to leave whenever you are.”

“Your bags are loaded in the car already. I put your violin on the back seat. I thought it’d be safer there.”

He can be so considerate of my feelings. “Thank you.” That’s what’s so infuriating about Jack. His moods turn on a dime. Although I admit that’s rich coming from me right now. “How did you know you’d find me here at Lassec?” I risk one last shot.

“I’ll always know where to find you, Tabitha.” Today his cryptic reply only makes me smile. There’s a strange comfort in familiarity.

“Got my engagement ring?” I’m full of mockery too.

He scowls. “Of course I’ve got it.” He pats his pocket. “Wouldn’t want to have gone through that little travesty for nothing.” His scorn knocks mine into next week.

Of course, he’s unhappy about the whole enforced engagement. He couldn’t make his feelings any clearer. And prodding a sleeping tiger is not the best way to get him eating out of my hand.

Madame Chastain appears at the back door and rescues us from our scowling match.

“
Ma petite
.” She rushes over, squeezes my face between her rough hands and kisses me over and over while she babbles on in French. She tells me how much she’ll miss me and makes me promise to return soon.

She talks so fast that Jack, I know, is lost. He looks quizzical but highly amused as I grimace under the onslaught. I suspect he catches one word in twenty but he knows the minute she starts talking about him.

“Make sure your man looks after you and makes you happy.”

“I’ll try my best.”

“I don’t want to see that crazy girl who cries all the time ever again.”

“You won’t.” I’m sad to think she may get her wish but not for the reason she hopes. “I’ll really miss you, Madame and I promise I’ll see you again soon.” It’s a promise I intend to keep one way or another. I repeat my promise in English for Jack’s benefit.

“Not that soon.” Jack frowns in my direction but I snub him. Does he think I’ll try to run back again?

When Madame starts crying I can’t resist calling her the crazy one. “
La folle
.”

Without malice she swipes at me with a tea cloth for my cheek.

“We have to go.” Jack rescues me from her adroit and nippy snapping. “Plane to catch,” he explains impersonating an aeroplane like a child.

His attempts at mime are very funny. He looks at me, grins and shrugs. Dear Madame has broken the tension between us. He takes my hand and draws me from her final suffocating embrace.

“
Au revoir
.” She refuses to say any final goodbye as she wipes her eyes with the tea cloth.

Jack holds his hand out to shake hers but she will have none of it. She grabs him by the shoulders and hauls him to her bosom. It isn’t easy as he’s so big and she’s so small. Nevertheless she kisses him on both cheeks several times with typical Gallic unrestraint and tells him he’d better look after me. I translate but I don’t know who’s more surprised at her familiarity, me or him. He nods at her.

She wags her finger at him and tells him off for making me sad before. When she pushes us out the door she calls us crazy people and lies she’ll be glad to have the place back to normal again.

Before I leave I take one last look to fix Lassec in my mind. There’s a stuffed envelope lying on the table and I realise Jack has left a substantial bonus for her. She’ll be very surprised when she sees how much I’ll bet it contains, if I know Jack’s generosity. He shoos me into his hire car and slides into the driver’s seat, starting the engine at exactly seven a.m. I smile at that too.

Out on the road he drives very fast but seems to know exactly where he’s heading. Even though I know these roads well I only recognise Vannes airport when I see it.

“Is there a spare seat on the plane for me?” I haven’t given a moment’s thought to booking a ticket home so I presume he’s done it for me on one of his marathon sessions on the laptop.

He glances across. “I expect we’ll be able to find you one.”

“Didn’t you fly in via Paris?” That was the way I travelled originally too, taking a train the rest of the journey.

“Yes.” He isn’t giving me any clues. He knows when I’m fishing.

I divert the subject. “What about the hire car?”

“I’ve arranged for it to be collected from Vannes.” He drives onto the tarmac at the back of the flight tower avoiding the main route into the terminal building car park.

A ground worker in a high visibility jacket comes across to unload our luggage and when Jack opens my door I get out. “Want to take your violin yourself?”

“Yes, please.” As far as I’m concerned that’s always hand luggage.

He hands it to me, takes my arm and leads me straight to the steps of a waiting plane. A smart executive jet.

I glance at Jack in puzzlement. “You’ve chartered a plane?”

He smirks at me, enjoying my obvious surprise and, I have to admit, awe. A private flight like this must cost a fortune.

“Gulfstream G650. Much more civilised way to travel.”

A uniformed male flight attendant comes down the steps. “Welcome on board, Miss Caid. Mr Keogh. If I could have your passports I’ll complete customs checks for you. Take-off is zero eight hundred.”