The Pleasures of Winter (11 page)

She pulled her laptop out of her bag and with it came the remains of the orchid Jack had given her. With shaking fingers, she tried to straighten the crushed petals. A burst of perfume gave her a jolt. For one instant, she was back in the jungle, Jack lacing up her boots and looking at her with those intense eyes.

She shook her head. She had a story to write. She opened the laptop and set to work.

Filing took longer than she expected. Her editor had follow-up questions, lots of them. ‘Are you working on a colour piece as well about your time in the jungle with Jack Winter? It’s a hot story.’ Abbie could hear the amusement in his tone.

‘Josh, come on, you know I don’t do colour.’ She shuddered at the thought of having to write about the days and nights spent with Jack. But somehow he talked her into writing a feature about her jungle adventures. ‘OK, but not tonight. I’m beat. I’ll be back in New York tomorrow. I’ll do it then,’ she told him. She hung up, wondering what she had let herself in for but knowing he was right: she had an exclusive, she should write about it.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. No wonder William had been shocked. She was sunburned, her hair
was a mess and she looked like something from
National Geographic
.

The hot shower was one of the most blissful things she had ever experienced. Abbie washed away the filth of the jungle, soaping her body and her hair several times until she was certain that all traces were gone. Except for the marks on her ass. The redness had faded, but she could still see bruising from Jack’s palm. She touched the skin there gently and felt a flicker of arousal.
Still!
She couldn’t believe it. What on earth was wrong with her?

Abbie pulled on a hotel bathrobe to cover the marks. It would have to do until William came back with some clothes. From the bathroom she heard a tap on the outside door and a muffled voice. ‘Abbie? It’s me.’

She walked out and glanced at the two key cards on the coffee table. William must have left his behind. But when she opened the door it was Jack who was standing there. He had changed his clothes and his dark hair was still damp.

A wave of desire surged through her. He was wearing dark jeans and a crisp light-blue shirt that made his eyes look even bluer than she remembered. He smelled edible. Oh god – she needed to get a hold of herself. Jack Winter meant nothing but trouble.

‘I thought you’d need this,’ he said, holding something out to her. Her recorder. He had picked it up and put it in his pocket in the jungle.

She gathered her wits. Now that she thought about it, she should punch him for his behaviour at the airport.
How dare he speak about her like that in front of the cameras? Taking advantage of her moment of hesitation, Jack walked past her into the suite.

He looked around. ‘No Dullard?’

‘If you mean William, he’s gone to buy me some clothes.’

Jack’s eyes raked her up and down, taking time to rest on the bare skin at her throat. She had to remind herself to breathe.

‘Pity. I prefer you naked.’

Abbie stifled a moan. He was trying to provoke her and she just had to control herself and not rise to the bait. She smiled sweetly at him. ‘Your preferences are of no interest to me.’

Jack took a step closer. ‘You want the same thing I do, Abbie, but I’m the only one who’s honest enough to admit it.’

She backed away from him until her thighs hit the bed. This was not a good idea. Even though she was covered from neck to calf, Jack had a way of making her feel naked.

‘Imagine it. Me running my hands over your bare skin before I put you over my knee. You wriggling that fabulous ass of yours, showing me what you need.’

Abbie swallowed. The pictures he painted in her head made her clench her thighs together. She couldn’t speak and there was nowhere left for her to run.

Jack closed the distance between them and cupped the back of her neck in his strong hand, drawing her close until she could smell the soap on his skin. ‘Don’t fight it, Abbie. Let it happen. You know that you want this.’

She braced herself, expecting a ravenous, insistent kiss,
but this was different. Jack traced a path along the seam of her lips with his tongue and she opened to him with a soft moan. Jungle Jack was gone, replaced by a gentle seducer.

‘This is not a good idea,’ she said, even as her hands stroked the muscular planes of his back.

‘Mmm,’ he said, delving his tongue between her lips, teasing a response from her. His kiss was slow, lingering, as if he had all the time in the world.

She angled her head, seeking more contact. God, that man could kiss. She tried to tell herself that it was a mistake, that this shouldn’t be happening, but a languid inertia swept over her. There was nothing else, nothing except Jack’s kiss, tempting and passionate. A whimper escaped her mouth.

‘That’s better.’ Jack tilted her head back until her throat was exposed to him, then he lowered his head and blew a breath against her heated skin. Her knees trembled. He had barely touched her but she wanted more and he knew it.

‘Are you wet for me? Why don’t I slip my hand inside your robe and find out?’

His hand traced a path along her shoulder, parting the robe and exposing her bare skin. He cupped her breasts with his hands before bending his head and taking one nipple in his mouth. The feel of his sucking mouth wasn’t enough. She threaded her hands in his hair, dragging him closer. A low rumble of pleasure emanated from him. He suckled harder, switching from one breast to the other, grazing the tender flesh with his teeth.

‘Oh god,’ she cried out.

Jack released her nipple. His eyes were heavy-lidded with passion. ‘Tell me what you need.’

‘I want to …’

She couldn’t say the word. How could she tell Jack Winter that she wanted him, that she needed him, to fuck her? That she would do anything he asked if he would only put his hands on her? Her voice came in a breathy sigh. ‘Please.’

With deft fingers, he untied the belt and the robe dropped. Jack pushed her back gently until she was sprawled on the bed and he insinuated himself between her parted legs. He pushed one finger inside her and then another. Then he moved them in and out slowly, ignoring her attempts to make him speed up. ‘Don’t move, or I’ll stop.’

Abbie froze. He couldn’t stop now. One glance at his face told her that he would do exactly that. She tensed in the effort to hold herself still. When he removed his fingers and rubbed her clit with her juices, she almost leapt off the bed. Her whole body vibrated with need.

Jack dropped to his knees, using his shoulders to keep her thighs apart. At the first sweep of his tongue on her heated flesh, Abbie clawed at the coverlet, raking her nails against the cotton. His hot mouth laved her lips, making slow circles with his tongue, deliberately ignoring her clit. He circled the opening of her flesh before plunging his tongue inside her, licking and sucking until she gasped with pleasure.

Jack’s attention returned to her clit, laving the little nub in slow torturous strokes that made her cry out. Then
his fingers were inside her again, stroking the front wall of her pussy while his mouth sucked hard on her clit. She rocked her pelvis towards him, begging for more, and then she was lost. Pleasure crashed over her in waves, sending tremors throughout her whole body.

Abbie covered her mouth with her hand, trying to stifle her screams. His mouth and hand continued their wicked work, drawing out the last shaky pulses of her orgasm until she lay limp and sated on the bed.

He dropped a kiss on her stomach before rising to his feet. Abbie didn’t have the energy to move.

‘Poor baby. Wore you out, did I?’

She didn’t protest when he helped her back into her robe and tied the belt in a neat bow.

The handle on the door jerked and William’s voice outside in the corridor made her jump. Jack picked up the recorder and opened the door. ‘Hi, Will, just dropped by to bring Abbie her recorder.’ He put it on the side table beside the key cards and left without a backward glance.

William came into the bedroom, laden with shopping bags. ‘Has he been here long?’

Not long enough
. She struggled to engage that part of her brain that wasn’t in a post-orgasmic fog. ‘I was ages on the phone to Josh. I was just getting into the shower when he arrived.’

Luckily William had picked up the remote and didn’t notice that her hair was already damp.

‘You go ahead, chipmunk. I’ll watch some TV.’

Abbie closed the bathroom door behind her and leaned
against it. What had she just done? She needed another shower. This time a very cold one.

After her shower she covered herself in moisturizer and pulled on the nightdress that William had bought her. It was white cotton with a high neckline. She grinned at her reflection. Even Miffy had sexier stuff than this, but at least it would cover the marks.

When she emerged from the bathroom, the TV was on in the background, William was stretched out on the bed channel-surfing and wearing a pair of silk pyjamas. A bottle of champagne lay in an ice bucket on the dresser.

There was something wrong with this picture. William was too small, too wiry, too blond. His silk pyjamas looked ridiculous, especially as she knew he wore them to cover a slightly concave chest. She had never minded before, but now she did. Reunion sex was the last thing she wanted.

It was months since she and William had slept together. Neither of them had a particularly high sex drive. They suited each other. Had suited each other. Something had happened to her libido in the jungle. Jack Winter had shaken something loose and she needed to get it back into the box where it belonged.

His smell was wrong. Not bad: William showered twice or three times a day, was religious about brushing and flossing and tongue-scraping, and invested in the most expensive colognes. Just wrong. When she got close to him, her nose wrinkled and she took an instinctive step back. He was perfect for her, but he wasn’t Jack.

He patted the coverlet. ‘I’ve missed you, chipmunk.’

Abbie cringed at the childish nickname, acquired before she had spent her teenage years in braces to cure her overbite. She didn’t need to be reminded of that now. Jack would never call her that.
Stop thinking about Jack, he’s gone.
But Abbie knew that she couldn’t go straight from Jack’s arms to William’s. Something inside her shuddered at the thought.

She forced a smile. ‘I missed you too, but would you mind if we didn’t? I mean, I haven’t slept properly in days and …’

He was immediately full of concern. ‘Of course, how thoughtless of me. I only wanted to show you that I missed you. Let’s get you tucked into bed.’

Abbie climbed between the sheets. The bed was blissfully comfortable, the pillows were just the way she liked them, but everything was too soft. As she drifted to sleep she imagined that she was swinging in a hammock above the jungle floor and a pair of strong arms were holding her close, protecting her. The faint scent of the orchid followed her into her dreams.

The early-morning flight to New York was uneventful. After the heat of the jungle Abbie felt cold. Winter was coming, and not the steely blue-eyed variety.
OK,
stop thinking about him. When you get to New York you are not allowed to think about him any more.

William snored softly in the seat beside her while she gazed out the window and tried to plan a feature story that did not involve rock-hard biceps, chiselled cheekbones and firm lips. The effort was lost on her libido.

Her heart lifted when she saw the small group waiting for her in the arrivals hall. There was her dad beside Miffy and the girls. Miffy’s twins were holding cardboard signs painted with ‘Welcome Home Abbie’. One of them was decorated with luridly coloured snakes.

The family reunion was interrupted when they were spotted by a pack of reporters who swarmed around them, all shouting questions.

‘Ms Marshall. Abbie. Can you comment on the story in today’s
Us Weekly
?’

A pudgy reporter shoved a camera into her face, ignoring William’s attempt to protect her. ‘Abbie, do you plan to see Jack again, or was it just some
Jungle Heat
?’

There was a chorus of sniggers at that one. Abbie’s temper rose. ‘Is there a point to these questions?’

A heavily made-up reporter stepped up, a pseudo-sympathetic expression on her face. ‘Jack’s fans simply want to know if it’s true that you’re an item?’

Taking Abbie’s silence for assent, she pushed on. ‘Four days and nights in the jungle. Tell me, what was it like to share a hammock with Jack Winter?’

Oh dear god, they knew. Everyone knew. Jack had told them. A lump formed in her throat. She could just imagine the amusement on Jack’s face while he related the tale to some fawning interviewer. At the edge of the crowd, Abbie saw Miffy’s mouth purse into an expression of distaste and realized this wasn’t a welcome home party: it was a damage limitation exercise for the Marshall family.

William tucked her arm into his and Abbie flashed him a grateful glance and cleared her throat. ‘My time in the jungle was an ordeal that I’d rather not repeat. I’m glad to be home with my family. I have nothing more to say.’

Ignoring the shouted questions and the flashing of a barrage of cameras, she pushed her way through the crowd, taking a small, perverse pleasure when she accidently stepped on a reporter’s foot.

Her dad stepped forward, with his arms opened wide, and she ran to him. ‘Oh, Daddy.’

‘It’s over, you’re safe now.’

‘Auntie Abbie, Auntie Abbie.’ The twins jumped up and down, waving their drawings, vying for her attention. ‘We made you pictures.’

Abbie knelt down, ignoring the tears pricking her eyelids. ‘They’re the best drawings I’ve ever seen. Is that a blue snake? Wow, I’m so impressed.’

Miffy gave her a stiff embrace and air-kissed her cheek.
‘I really can’t believe you’ve done this. Jack Winter of all people –’

‘Now, girls.’ Her father’s calm tone silenced Miffy. ‘We can talk about this later.’

The reporters pursued them through the arrivals hall until they escaped into the confines of their cars. Miffy and the girls went home, while William and Abbie were driven into the city by her father. For once, she was glad of the dark tinted windows of her dad’s old-fashioned sedan. William hadn’t said a word since the terminal. A scandal like this would upset his mother, and William would do anything to avoid that.