MacAllister's Baby (12 page)

Angus threw back his head and laughed. ‘I love that strict-teacher act of yours. I think it’s sexy as hell.’

Angus laughing was sexy as hell. And she felt herself rising to his challenge, as always. ‘It’s not an act, and you’re trying to wind me up so I’ll agree to come home with you just to prove you wrong.’

‘That is precisely the idea, Miss Read.’

His face was irrepressible, full of glee and life and clever mischief.

‘Come on, Elisabeth,’ he said, and he took her hand in his again. ‘Come home and play with me.’

Play.

He’d hit on the right word again. The one word that grabbed her by the gut and filled her with so much longing that she could barely keep from throwing herself at him.

It was playing. It was a game, something for fun. As she hadn’t had in years. Something that didn’t matter, that was just for her, a treat better than any dessert.

If this was play, she didn’t need to worry. She could keep control. She could trust Angus for the length of a game.

Games didn’t require you to give your heart.

‘Right,’ she said. ‘Let’s go before I change my mind. But if you haven’t won the debate by the end of the taxi ride, I’m going home.’

She turned and headed for the door, feeling him follow her, enjoying playing the role of sexy teacher now that it was all a game.

Only after she’d covered the length of the restaurant, straight-spined, and thanked the
maître d’
and gone out the door and onto the pavement, did she look at Angus. He was right behind her, wide-eyed, biting his lip, looking like a man entranced.

‘My God, you know how to turn me on,’ he said, and raised his arm for a taxi.

A black cab glided to a halt in front of them and they climbed in. She could feel Angus close to her as she slid across the seat. He gave the driver an address and sat down close beside her, his thigh pressing the length of hers.

‘I was on the junior debate team at school,’ he said.

‘Good, then you know how to follow the rules,’ she said smoothly, wriggling just slightly away so she was no longer touching him. ‘You state your point, I’ll state mine. Until one of us capitulates.’

‘I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you.’

He’d lowered his voice and it was throaty, the sound that echoed through her whole body.

‘Is that your first point?’

‘Oh, yes.’

‘Mine is that wanting a woman is not a sufficient criterion for having her. You’ll have to come up with a better argument, Mr MacAllister.’

‘How about this: you’ve wanted me from the first moment you saw me, too.’

‘I object. That is speculation.’

Angus shook his head, smiling. ‘I beg to differ. It’s not speculation. One of the first things you said to me was, ‘Mr MacAllister, perhaps you should fetch your chicken.’ I’ve never heard a more blatant invitation.’

She pressed her lips tight together to keep from laughing. ‘Is that your point?’

‘No. This is my point.’ He moved the inch over that she’d scootched away, so his thigh rested against hers again, and put his arm around her shoulders.

‘Excuse me, Mr MacAllister. This is an intellectual sport, not a physical one.’

‘They taught us how to debate dirty at my school.’ He pulled her still closer to him. ‘Besides, with us, it’s an attraction of bodies and minds.’

‘Well. Two can play at that game.’ She swivelled in her seat and draped her legs over Angus’s lap. Marvelling at how much she was enjoying this, at how she and Angus were able to make their own private intimate space even when there were others around, even now, when they were surrounded by the lights and the people and the traffic of London outside the cab’s windows.

‘Is that your point?’ In the shifting light from the streets, she could see his eyes twinkle.

‘No. That’s me doing my best to distract you so that you won’t be able to think up an effective rebuttal to the point I do make.’

‘Good tactic.’ He put his free hand on her knee and stroked up her leg to where her dress had ridden up. ‘You’re driving me crazy, Miss Read. I move that we change the topic of this debate to “This house believes that when you and I make love it will be the most amazing experience in the universe”.’

‘Denied. You still haven’t won the first debate yet.’

‘Haven’t I?’ He slid his hand further up her leg, underneath the hem of her dress. His thumb brushed the top of her thigh, tan-talisingly close to her knickers.

Elisabeth didn’t know what would be sexier—toying with Angus some more, or giving in to his caresses.

Since they were still in a taxi, though, it was probably wiser to refrain from tearing off her clothes for now.

‘I still haven’t made my point,’ she said.

Angus leaned forward, his hand touching the lace of her underwear now, his lips a breath away from hers. ‘And your point is?’

She’d forgotten. But she was damned if she was going to admit it.

‘My point is that you’re a bounder, a cad, an incorrigible flirt and a sensualist with whom a lady cannot be safe.’

‘I object. I am not a bounder.’ His voice was even more English and upper-class than normal. ‘I have a suspicion you like it when I’m a cad, though.’

He feathered his fingertips over the lace covering her sex, and Elisabeth gasped.

The cab stopped.

In an instant Angus had withdrawn from her, given the driver a note through the window and was opening the door and holding out a hand to help her out of the cab. She took it, feeling slightly dizzy and very aroused.

It wasn’t a cold night, but her heated skin felt the change in temperature. Traffic noises, flashing lights, plane trees and a row of tall white Georgian town houses.

‘Where are we?’ she asked.

‘Notting Hill. Outside my house. Who won the debate?’

She thought back to their conversation and added it up. ‘You made one point which was spurious, with one discounted because it was speculation. And lots of cheating. Whereas I only cheated once, and made two valid points. I’ve won.’

‘You might have won the intellectual debate. I won the physical one. I gained an arm around your shoulder, and a hand on your leg.’

‘We didn’t agree to a physical debate.’

Angus half inclined his head. ‘All right. I capitulate. The question is, since you won: are you coming in, or am I calling you another cab?’

CHAPTER SEVEN

E
LISABETH
hesitated for a split second, and Angus couldn’t breathe. Then she smiled, that heart-lifting, spirited, kind smile.

‘I’m coming in,’ she said. And once again Angus felt overwhelming relief.

‘What made you decide?’ he asked, squeezing her hand. ‘Was it my superior debating skills?’

‘No. It was when you said that we would play.’ She felt the lapel of his jacket, smoothed down his shirt. Simple touches that turned him on enormously. Her brown eyes as they met his glimmered deep and dark in the light from the streetlamps.

‘I need to have fun, Angus. I need some romance and some fantasy. I haven’t had anything like that for too long.’

‘Elisabeth, I knew that as soon as I saw you order filter coffee with skim milk in the best Italian café in London.’

He bent down, slid one arm around her waist, one around her legs, and swept Elisabeth up into his arms. ‘Fun, fantasy, and romance coming right up.’

She felt wonderful in his arms—graceful and slender and yielding and as if she belonged there. He could see the length of each of her legs, feel how her flexible waist fit his hand.

He took the steps up to his house two at a time. He’d take the steps up to his bedroom three at a time, if he could.

And then, at his black glossy front door, he had to stop. ‘Um,’ he said.

‘What’s wrong, MacAllister?’

‘I think this romantic gesture was a little ill-planned. Do you mind reaching into my left trouser pocket and getting out my keys? My hands are sort of full.’

Elisabeth laughed and reached downwards. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as her hand felt around the front of his trousers searching for his pocket. Her palm brushed over the head of his penis. He’d had an erection for hours, it seemed. And her hand was sweet heaven.

‘Angus.’ Elisabeth’s voice was full of mock horror, and he knew she hadn’t been fumbling.

He groaned. ‘Get the keys or I’ll be happy to see you naked on this doorstep.’

Her fingers, now, were swift and sure. She pulled his keys out of his pocket and with his instructions fitted them into the locks. As soon as she turned the last one he kicked the door open. It swung open with a satisfying bang. He carried Elisabeth over the threshold, hooked the door with his foot, and slammed it shut behind them.

Angus stood in the black-and-white tiled hallway of his house with Elisabeth in his arms and let out a huge sigh. ‘Thank God.’

‘What?’ A hint of a smile was playing over her beautiful mouth.

‘Finally I’ve got you alone in a place that isn’t a classroom or a refrigerator, and I can take all the time that I want.’

‘Do you want to take a long time?’

‘Oh-h-h, yes. And I intend to savour every moment.’ He strode across the hall to the staircase. ‘Forgive my being a bad host, but I’m not going to ask you if you’d like a drink because I want you in my bedroom. Is being carried up the steps Scarlett O’Hara-style romantic enough for you?’

‘Angus.’

Her speaking his name made him pause, his foot raised to take the first stair. He looked at her.

That little smile was gone. And her pale, classical face looked even paler than usual, her eyes huge.

He frowned. ‘What is it, Elisabeth?’

‘I—’ She bit her lip. She was lost for words.

Anxiety crawled into his stomach. If she was having second thoughts…if she didn’t trust him…

‘What, darling? You can tell me.’

He saw her graceful throat swallow. ‘Do—do you have condoms? I don’t—’ Her pale cheeks flushed peony.

‘Oh.’ He laughed in relief. She was worried about safe sex, nothing more. Prudent, sensible, adorable teacher. ‘Yes. Yes, I’ve got some of those.’ He raised his foot again to climb the steps.

‘Good.’

And yet the way she said it made him put his foot back down on the floor.

Something wasn’t good at all.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I—’ She dropped her eyes, and then a line of determination appeared between her brows and she looked up straight into his face. ‘I haven’t had sex for fun for a long time. I’m not sure I remember how.’

She was honest, and open, and brave. She didn’t have to admit this to him, and he knew it. Angus tightened his arms around her.

‘Elisabeth,’ he said, ‘all you have to do tonight is to feel pleasure. I want to make you feel wonderful. Will you let me do that?’

She nodded. English teacher still with no words.

‘I mean it,’ he said. ‘No pretending tonight, unless it’s in fun. All I want is to have you with me, to touch you, to show you how much I want you. You don’t have to be afraid or put up any of your defences.’

‘Help me do that,’ she said. ‘I need to.’

And this was trust beyond what he’d dreamed of, a challenge and a reward. He wasn’t just going to give her what she wanted; he was going to give her what she needed.

He kissed her coral lips, and again.

‘I think this is going to be one of the best nights of my life,’ he said to her, and started climbing the stairs at last.

His bedroom was large and modern. Tall windows looked out onto a dark blue and orange London night and threw panes of light and shadow across the carpet. The sheets on his bed were white.

He stepped inside the door with her in his arms and carried her to the side of his bed, where he set her on her feet on the floor.

He closed the blinds, then reached down and turned on the lamp on the bedside table. It wasn’t bright, but it bathed the room in a golden glow that was more revealing than the evening shadows.

And this man dated the most beautiful women in the country. He was in the tabloids with them every weekend.

Elisabeth didn’t mind her body. Though it didn’t always do what she wanted it to, it was more or less the shape she wanted it to be in. But she was no model.

‘Do we have to have the light on?’ she asked.

Angus nodded vehemently. ‘I want to touch and smell and taste and hear you. I want to see you, too.’

He reached forward and pulled out the pins that held up her hair, and she felt it falling around her face, down the bare back of her neck. He ran his hands through it, smoothing the straight locks back into place.

The look of concentration and appreciation on his face quieted her doubts. He stepped back and once again looked her over, up and down, taking in every inch with his eyes.

Her lipstick was kissed away, her dress was wrinkled, and she could see that Angus did not care. She could see that Angus found her even more appealing because of it. He slowly ran one hand across the neckline of her dress, touching the green glass necklace. ‘This is pretty on you. You always have something exotic.’

‘It’s my zen necklace,’ she told him. ‘Be here now.’

‘Good advice. Turn around.’

She turned and felt his deft hands holding up her hair, unfastening her necklace and lifting it from her throat. His soft breaths were on the back of her neck. And then his lips at the place where the clasp had been, warm and gentle and shivering her skin into goose-flesh.

‘Have I found an erogenous zone, Miss Read?’ he murmured and kissed a trail along her nape and to the skin beneath her ear. Every one sizzled through her.

‘Yes.’ Though she didn’t have to say it; he could surely see the small hairs of her arm and her nape standing to attention.

‘Hmm. I wonder where the other ones are.’ He tugged at the zip at the back of her dress and drew it down to where it ended, just above the curve of her buttocks. His knuckles brushed the small of her back and she shuddered.

‘Found one,’ he said, and she could tell from the sound of his voice that he was smiling. Then he kissed down her neck, between her shoulder blades, down her spine. She held her breath and felt his warm hands slip inside her dress, span her waist. His fingertips rested on her belly; his thumbs framed the small of her back. Slowly he touched his lips to her skin there, just above her tailbone.