Falling For His Proper Mistress (5 page)

“Erica found love, too.” A note of cynicism entered his voice. “She's engaged to Christian Hanford now. The family lawyer,” he tacked on, in case he wasn't making sense. Stroking her skin had that effect on him. Touching her made him forget everything else existed.

She was undoubtedly a sorceress. A magic woman who held him trapped in her secret sensuality.

“Where are you staying?” Guy changed the subject. He didn't want to talk about Erica, about the uncomfortable emotions his father's affair aroused and the sense of helpless loss that his father's death evoked.

“At Jarrod Manor,” she replied, a little drowsily.

“So am I.”

Avery stiffened under the stroke of his fingers. “Oh.”

“Relax,” he said. “It's the largest lodge. No danger of finding me—unless you want to.” He didn't add that he was staying in one of the family suites on the top floor, which had their own card-access elevator. There was little chance of Avery's finding his suite by accident.

“But you only need to ask reception to find out where I'm staying—you're a Jarrod, they'd tell you whatever you wanted.”

His hands stilled. “Do you want me to ask?”

“No!”

The water swirled around her as she moved in agitation. For a brief instant Guy caught a glimpse of pale pink nipple before she hastily sank beneath the bubbling water.

“On second thought, you probably don't even need to ask, do you? You'd have access to all the computer and reservation systems—and key cards.”

“I'd never enter your room—or any guest's room—without an invitation.” Guy was appalled by her assumption that he'd abuse his position—or the privacy of a guest. “You'd have to ask.”

“Promise?”

The look she slanted up at him almost undid him. “Yes!”

She relaxed with a sigh, her head dropping back against the lip of the bath, the candlelight giving her blonde hair a rich patina. “I believe you.”

I believe you.
Her instant trust caused a rush of elation. Wordlessly, he rubbed his fingers in little circles along the apex of her shoulders, seeking out the tell-tale knots, massaging them. Her flesh was soft and supple beneath his fingers, and he savored the subtle, flowery scent that clung behind her ears, released by the sultry, heat of the steam, tempting him to set his lips against the silken skin.

Guy let out the breath he'd been holding. The tendrils at her nape lifted, and a rush of gooseflesh danced across her skin.

Unable to resist, he bent his head and placed his mouth against her nape.

Avery gave an audible gasp.

But no objection followed. He parted his lips and planted a row of open-mouthed kisses on her water-dewed skin, aware of the sound of her quickening breathing. His hands slipped
forward around the curve of her body, and his fingers trailed over the soft, rounded mounds of her breasts.

She drew a sharp, jagged breath.

“Avery,” he whispered, “invite me to join you in that damned tub.”

T
he one thing that Avery had learned about Guy in the month she'd shared his apartment in New York was that every inch of his body was pure, sinful temptation…and she was incapable of resisting any of it.

Tonight was no exception.

But tonight she knew exactly what she was doing…knew that this was not about dreams—only desire…and getting over Guy. She'd think of it as therapy.

“Join me?” she invited, her pulse skittering. “There's plenty of space.”

“I thought you'd never ask.”

He was already on his feet. The jeans and T-shirt he wore were discarded in a flash. He kicked off his boxers, and stepped into the tub.

Once he stood inside, the tub shrank. He was tall and big…six feet one inch of honed male muscle. Aroused male muscle, Avery noted with an awed, heart-stopping glance. Her
nipples peaked. Her pulse picked up, and the air surrounding them became heavy with unspoken messages.

Perhaps this hadn't been such a good idea, after all.

But it was too late to undo the dare she'd instigated the moment she'd dropped that robe. If she told him she'd made a mistake, he'd laugh. Or accuse her of being a tease.

Her best choice was to tough it out. A few minutes of polite, uneasy silence, then she could chicken out with dignity, climb out the tub, say goodnight, and that would be that.

Avery sank lower into the water, and shut her eyes.

Except it wasn't quite that easy.

Images of his naked form warmed by soft candle flame danced across her eyelids. The smooth golden skin. The sculpted muscles. His burgeoning erection…

This was how she was getting over the man?

She bit back a gasp, and concentrated on mentally ranking the merlot wines she'd tasted today. She lost interest after rating the third wine. Ears straining, she tried to figure out what he was doing.

Was he looking at her?

The silence throbbed like a writhing beast. Unwanted memories of the nights she'd spent in Guy's bed, making love, entwined her. Now he was naked, a foot away from her, probably eating her alive with his eyes.

Avery couldn't breathe.

She knew she had to exorcise him. Forever.

“Did you get a chance to make some notes for our presentation today?” When Guy finally broke the silence, she jumped, and wavelets lapped at her throat.

He wanted to talk business?

Avery cracked one eye open and sneaked a peek through the billowing steam. She didn't know whether to laugh or scream. Guy was lying back, his eyes closed, looking utterly
relaxed. She'd steeled herself to resist him—tell him to go to hell—and the damn man was practically asleep.

And here she was back to being all knotted up, fully expecting him to leap on her! Cheated.

It wasn't—couldn't possibly be—disappointment that crawled through her, could it? She was relieved that she didn't have to fight him off. Wasn't she?

Hmm. If she were absolutely, confidentially truthful she was a teensy-weensy bit miffed. It made
no
sense.

“So did you?”

“Uh, yes. I made some notes.”

Collecting her scattered wits, she tried to remember what the thrust of them had been. And gave up. While she'd been scrambling for her sanity, Guy had opened his eyes. His gaze locked with hers. Lord only knew what he'd seen in her eyes, because his mouth curved up into a slow, knowing smile. “Miss me?”

“Today?” She tried to laugh it off as a joke. “I didn't get a chance. Especially since I used the few spare minutes I had to work out what we were going to say.”

“Pity.” Under the water his hand landed on her bare thigh.

A rush of emotion filled her. Desire. Confusion. Anger. All tangled up in a mass of contrary, conflicting feelings. Avery reminded herself of all the reasons why it was a bad idea to let this happen. For sure, she would get hurt again.

But her desperate caveats didn't help. His fingers trailed up…along her belly. Her breath caught as they skirted precariously close to the underside of her breast.

Guy Jarrod was a drug and her body craved its fix.

She knew she should be telling him “No”.

Yet insanely when his fingers snagged hers, and tugged,
she allowed him to draw her through the bubbling water toward him.

“I thought about you.”

Her insides melted. “I doubt it,” she said snippily. “You had too much to do.”

“Oh, I'm not talking about today—I'm talking about the past seven weeks.”

At the admission, blood roared in her ears. Guy had kept count of time? Her resistance crumbled a little more.

“I keep remembering this….”

His fingers surrounded her nipple, and the little traitor hardened.

Guy groaned. His other arm came round her and he drew her close until her body slid over him breast-against-chest, her nipples brushing the water-sleek muscle under his skin.

“So responsive,” he murmured into her ear, and shivers feathered down her spine. “How could I ever forget this?”

The hope plummeted.

It was the sex he'd thought about—not her.

A cold, dampening wave of disappointment swamped her. What had she expected? An avowal of love? For him it had always been all about sex, nothing else. Guy had no idea of the fantasies she'd woven around him.

Fantasies involving love…family…and forever after.

She must've been dreaming. Or drugged. By sex? Yet right now, sex was almost enough.

Sensation shuddered through her as his mouth closed on her tight nipple. Something close to ecstasy coursed through her blood, and she gave a moan of dark delight.

Nothing wrong with sex.

Especially since this time there'd be no emotional component. It would be nothing more than an exorcism of a very bad habit.

Her legs entwined with his. Breaking the connection of
his mouth on the tingling bud of flesh, Guy linked his hands behind her neck, and she again came into full, too-tantalizing contact with him. The softness of her breasts again brushed against his chest, and arousal spiraled. He pulled her head down, and she could no longer resist.

His tongue swept across her bottom lip. Lust surged through her when the tip of her tongue met his. He sucked it into his mouth, and then plundered the warm heat of her mouth, seeking out every corner.

His fingers explored the indent of her spine, then moved under her belly and slid between her legs. At the first intimate touch she stiffened reflexively, then her legs parted. She was twenty-seven years old, too old to fool herself that Guy could make all the silly, romantic dreams of love-for-life come true. She'd left those behind the night of her birthday.

She was a woman, not a girl.

With a woman's wants.

It was time to recognize that her desperation to find love was nothing more than a ticking biological clock—an animal need to find a mate to help her raise the brood of children she'd always yearned for.

The kiss ended. His touch did not. It was expert, knowing, and gave exactly what she craved. Opening her eyes, she saw that the taut mask of desire had transformed Guy's face. Not even candle glow could soften the hunger.

He wanted her.

She wanted him.

At least there was honesty in desire.

Tonight she'd settle for lust…and deal with the fallout tomorrow.

Stretching out a hand, her fingers lightly stroked the hard, bold length of him beneath the silken water.

Guy stopped caressing her, and used both hands to yank
her up. “Stop! If you do that it will all be over way too soon.”

She gave him a wicked smile. “And we can't have that.”

“No,” he growled.

Avery bent forward and outlined his lips with the teasing tip of her tongue. His arms tightened around her, bringing her softness in contact with the hard rock-like ridge of his arousal. He raised his hips, and the friction was exquisite.

Another shift, and her body sheathed his.

His head went back, the tendons on his neck drew tight. Leaning forward, she tongued them, tasting the moisture of the water, the slight tang of salt from his skin.

He was moving below her, his body sliding within hers, heat twisting into a blaze of unbearable pleasure. The pressure built and built until her climax rushed toward her, at the same time as Guy shuddered beneath her.

 

Avery was floating on a cloud of pleasure.

Her skin was flushed a rosy shade, and her body was soft and pliant. She felt like she'd died and gone to heaven.

“So what about making this a more lasting arrangement?” Guy whispered, cupping her chin with his hand.

The dreamy, heavenly feeling evaporated. Her eyes popped open and, shocked, she gazed down into Guy's smiling eyes.

“A more lasting arrangement?”

Avery almost forgot to breathe. This was what she'd wanted…hoped for…those two toe-curling weeks in New York, before the rug had been ripped out from under her on the night of her birthday.

What was wrong with her? Did she want to marry a man who thought her easy, a conniving gold digger? A man who'd wanted to share her in a tryst with his friend?

The Guy she'd imagined herself in love with didn't exist.

“Marriage is a big decision,” she said finally, slithering off him to sit beside him.

His hand fell away.

“I never meant marriage?” Guy's smile slipped. The intimacy between them widened into a chasm. “Don't make more out of it than it needs to be, Avery. There's no reason why we can't enjoy each other for as long as it lasts.”

Avery's jaw dropped. This only demonstrated one more difference between them. A more lasting arrangement had different meanings to her and Guy. For him it hardly lasted past tomorrow…nothing more than hot sex with the gold-digging ex. For her it had meant a surge of hope. Stupid.

Emotionally, Guy wasn't available. To be fair, he'd always made it clear that he wasn't in the market for a long-term relationship. She'd simply believed she could change his mind. Her mistake.

Say no. Now!

Yet if she did say no, she'd always wonder…

What if…

No regrets.

Drowning herself in dead-end yearnings wasn't going to get her over the man. What had Matt said last night?
If you're going to live it up, pumpkin, Aspen is the place to do it. Indulge yourself.

Avery bit her lip.

She didn't want to indulge herself with just any one…she wanted Guy. Her body wanted Guy. So why not give in? And get over him?

“So what do you think?” His hand brushed her leg under
the water. Clearly he'd decided she would go along with it. Her indignation flared up all over again.

Her good sense returned. “And what happens when the festival ends? When it's time for me to leave?”

He shrugged. “Does it matter? Let's take it one day—” his eyes grew slumberous “—and one night at a time.”

Yes, an affair would suit him just perfectly.

“I'd want to think about that.”

His look of surprise would've been comical if Avery had felt like laughing.

“I'm sure there's enough work in all the exclusive Aspen resorts and restaurants to keep you busy for a while. I'm sure I can help you secure some contracts.”

“I'm sure you can,” she muttered, her irritation with him escalating. Didn't he have any idea how that would look? People would take one look at her, at her obvious closeness to Guy and she'd be written off as a millionaire's paid-for mistress. The professional reputation she'd worked so hard to establish would be gone in a puff of smoke.

Of course, it was partially her own fault. She should never have fallen into his bed so quickly. But she'd been unable to resist him. She'd thought he was her soul mate.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

Discovering Guy still set her on fire would make it so easy to agree. She wasn't caving in so easily this time. She stood up and the water streamed off her. Conscious of Guy's smoldering gaze, she squared her shoulders. “I'm not sure I want to stay in Aspen.”

“Why not? You know you want to.” The corners of Guy's mouth curled up. He reached up and ran a finger down her leg until it came to rest in the hollow behind her knee. “I'm here.”

His arrogant certainty took her breath away. She stepped away, over the lip of the hot tub. Picking up her terry robe
she slid her arms into the sleeves and yanked the sash into a knot, then said brightly, “And so will I be—until the end of the month but I can't guarantee anything past that.”

“Maybe by then the flame would have burned itself out.”

She could only hope…

“Maybe,” she agreed. “And maybe I'll be homesick for California.”

“There's that, too.” Reserve entered his tone and the slumberous warmth seeped out of his eyes. “Not even this kind of chemistry will survive the distance. In terms of my father's will, I have to stay in Aspen. So we'll only have the time you're here.”

Lifting her shoulder, Avery let it fall carelessly. “Working with me every day, you'll have had enough of my company.”

“I'm sure you're right.” But Guy's expression was brooding.

So he wasn't happy about that? Good. Because she wouldn't concede more than she already had. Even though she was unbearably tempted to settle for the affair he offered.

Sashaying away from him took every bit of nerve she possessed. She tossed her reply over her shoulder. “I'll consider your offer. But don't hold your breath.” He deserved to sweat.

Avery didn't know what she was going to decide. One part of her, the part full of defiant bravado, was dying to say yes…have glorious get-over-him sex and walk away, sated and smiling. Cured. The other more cautious part of her was terrified she'd be addicted for life.

And where would that leave her?

At the door, his voice arrested her. “Uh, I meant to ask. Any consequences?”