The Redemption of Darius Sterne (9 page)

Tia's almost triumphant air this evening, when she'd announced she was rehearsing for the lead in
Giselle
, her condescension about the way Andy looked and was dressed this evening, her pitying glances when she mentioned Andy's dance studio, now caused Andy to once again question her memories of that night four years ago.

CHAPTER FIVE

A
NDY
MOISTENED
THE
dryness of her lips before answering Darius. ‘I'll make a deal with you,' she murmured huskily. ‘I'll answer your question if you'll tell me the reason for the friction between you and your mother.'

Darius gave a rueful chuckle. Miranda might have been shaken by that meeting with Tia Bellamy, but not so much that she couldn't think logically enough to ask him for the one thing she knew he couldn't, or rather wouldn't, give her. ‘We both know that isn't going to happen.'

She gave a shrug. ‘Then neither is my answer to your own question.'

Darius moved his head back slightly so that he could look down at her as he murmured appreciatively, ‘You are one very dangerous lady.'

Miranda's eyes glowed with mischievous humour. ‘I don't think anyone has ever accused me of being
that
before.'

Darius sobered as he looked down into the beauty of Miranda's face: those warm green eyes, her flushed cheeks, the full and tempting pout of her lips. Yes, to him, at this moment, she was most definitely very dangerous. ‘Maybe that's because no one else has ever been as determined as I am to know you better?'

‘Or in the way in which you want to know me better?' Andy countered ruefully.

Darius quirked one dark brow. ‘Is that a bad thing?'

It wasn't ‘bad' exactly—the intensity of desire Andy could see in Darius's eyes just scared the hell out of her.

It didn't help that Andy was so aware of his body pressed so intimately against her own. Or how alone they were in this room. She certainly couldn't dismiss the sexual tension that now surrounded the two of them, and appeared to hold both of them in its thrall.

Which, considering there were five hundred people in the huge ballroom just a short distance away, was totally inappropriate.

‘What did Tia Bellamy mean when she said you need to wear long gowns, Miranda?' Darius asked unexpectedly.

So unexpectedly that Andy felt her cheeks pale. ‘That's none of your business, Darius.'

‘I'm making it so,' he insisted softly.

Andy shook her head in denial. ‘I think we should go back to the ballroom now.'

‘I disagree.'

‘I don't care.'

‘If I stop asking questions will you agree to stay here a little longer?' Darius leant back against the conference table and took Andy's bag from her unresisting fingers and placed it on the table behind him. He settled her in between his parted legs, his arms light about her waist as his lips nuzzled and tasted the warmth of her throat.

Much as she knew she shouldn't, Andy wanted nothing more than to stay here with Darius. And not just because she had no wish to bump into Tia Bellamy again, or engage in more conversation with Darius's family.

She had been physically aware of Darius since the moment he'd arrived at her apartment earlier this evening, and that awareness had only deepened as they'd sat in the warm confines of his car, and become even greater when Darius first placed, and then kept that possessive hand pressed against her spine as they'd entered the hotel together.

Alone with him now, just the two of them in the silence of this conference room, Darius's lips a warm and arousing caress against the column of her throat, Andy had absolutely no defences against the heat of desire warming and spreading through the whole of her body. Nor could she deny that now familiar full feeling in her breasts, her nipples incredibly sensitive as they rubbed against Darius's jacket, her thighs perfectly aligned with his as he leant back against the conference table, allowing her to feel the long hard ridge of his arousal.

‘Are you wearing anything at all beneath this gown?' Darius's lips had now travelled down to where one of his hands cupped the swell of her right breast, his breath hot against the bared skin revealed above the draped neckline of her gown.

Her cheeks warmed. ‘I don't...'

‘Are you, my angel?' He looked up at her, his gaze holding her captive.

‘Just some black panties,' Andy felt compelled into acknowledging huskily.

‘No bra. That's what I thought.' He continued to hold her gaze even as his head lowered and his lips encircled the fullness of her nipple over the material of her gown, his tongue a heated rasp as he licked across that highly sensitised tip.

Andy gasped as her back arched instinctively, succeeding in pushing her nipple deeper into the heat of Darius's mouth, at the same time as heated pleasure flooded her body. ‘We should stop, Darius.' The protest sounded half-hearted even to Andy's own ears.

‘I need to taste you!' he groaned achingly as he raised his head. ‘How does this dress unfasten?'

‘There's a catch on the shoulder, but...' Andy gave a shaky groan as Darius's fingers dealt far too swiftly with the fastening, allowing the material of her gown to cascade softly downwards, baring her completely to the waist.

Darius's gaze heated as he looked at her bared breasts, cupping each of them in his hands as the soft pads of his thumbs moved in a butterfly caress across the sensitive tips. Time and time again, until Andy groaned at each caress, her hands moving up to cling to the hardness of Darius's shoulders, as her knees threatened to buckle beneath her.

‘Beautiful,' Darius murmured gruffly as he lowered his head, blowing gently on them before his lips parted to encircle one of those aroused nipples.

Andy's mesmerised gaze remained fixed on Darius, his lashes long and dark against the hardness of his cheeks as he laved her sensitive flesh with the moistness of his tongue, before suckling the nipple into the heat of his mouth, gently at first, and then more deeply, hungrily.

She could only groan her pleasure and watch in fascination as Darius's hand still cupped her other breast, his skin so much darker than her own, a finger and thumb lightly squeezing the other nipple to the same rhythm.

Watching Darius, lost in the sensations of his mouth and hands, was the most erotic experience of Andy's life.

She wanted more, needed more, as the pleasure grew and she moved restlessly against the hardness of Darius's thighs. Groaning low in her throat as he now rubbed his hardness into and against her, seeking and then finding the centre of her pleasure as he continued to thrust slowly against and into that aroused and swollen nubbin. Andy gasped as her body pulsed with hunger, needing, wanting to be filled.

Darius's mouth released her nipple with a soft pop before he straightened, his eyes a dark and enigmatic amber as he looked down at her, his cheeks flushed. ‘Much as I would like to finish this here it's probably not a good idea.' He sighed his regret as he cupped both her breasts and bent to place a softly moist kiss on each swollen engorged tip before leaning back to reach for and refasten Andy's gown over her shoulder.

‘Darius.'

‘Duty first, pleasure later,' he promised huskily. ‘Miranda?' he prompted sharply as she refused to meet his gaze.

Andy had never felt so mortified in her life.

Or so out of control.

If Darius hadn't stopped when he had then Andy had no doubts she would have allowed him, no,
begged
him, to lay her across the conference table, like a sacrificial lamb, before making love to her. Her scars, be damned!

‘Angel?' he pressed again gruffly.

Darius was studying her in frowning concentration when Andy finally forced herself to raise her head and look at him. To Darius this was nothing unusual, just another dalliance with a woman he desired to have in his bed for the night. Whereas for Andy it was—

For her it would have been the first time she had ever been so intimate with a man.

Not that she had deliberately or purposefully remained a virgin. There just hadn't been the time or opportunity during her years of hard work at ballet school. Or a man in her life since, that she cared enough about, for her to want to reveal her scars to.

And she very much doubted that Darius would want to take that sort of responsibility on himself, with any woman, let alone tutor a scarred—and scared!—virgin in how to make love.

Andy plastered a bright smile on her lips as she straightened. ‘Of course.'

Darius forced himself not to say anything more as he unlocked the door and allowed Miranda to precede him out of the room before falling into step beside her, his hand light beneath her elbow, but his expression was grim as he tried to decide exactly what had just happened.

His main reason for taking Miranda out of the ballroom, and into the privacy of the small conference room, had been with the intention of allowing her the time to regain her composure after that encounter and conversation with Tia Bellamy. A meeting that had so obviously disturbed her.

He had kissed Miranda, again with the intention of distracting her.

Except he was now the one who was distracted.

He had enjoyed kissing Miranda.

Too much.

He had enjoyed making love with her.

Too much.

He had enjoyed caressing her and
tasting
her, and hearing her little breathy moans of pleasure.

All too damned much!

Her skin had felt so soft and silky beneath his questing lips. Her breasts were small but absolutely perfect. And her nipples, once he had unfastened the top of her gown and bared them to his heated gaze, were a delicious deep rose in colour, and so succulent to the taste as he suckled them deeply into his mouth, and lathed them with his tongue.

He had been so aroused, so lost in the enjoyment of her, Darius knew he could have gone on tasting her all night. Her breasts. Between her thighs. Every damn inch of her, from her head to her elegant toes.

So much so that he had almost made love to Miranda in a public conference room in one of his own hotels.

It was so far from his usual measured self-control that it was no wonder he now felt distracted.

‘Hey, big bro!'

Darius blinked before a scowl settled between his eyes, and he focused on Xander with effort as his brother strolled down the hotel corridor towards them in the direction of the ballroom, obviously having finally decided to make an appearance at their mother's charity ball.

Darius's hand tightened instinctively on Miranda's elbow as he spoke to his brother. ‘I should warn you, your tardiness has put you in Mother's bad books.'

Xander gave an unconcerned shrug as he grinned. ‘She'll forgive me.' The darkness of his gaze turned interestedly towards Miranda as she stood silently at Darius's side.

It was an interest Darius was aware of taking exception to as he once again placed a proprietorial arm about Miranda's waist and anchored her to his side. Instantly causing Xander to eye him curiously.

‘I have no doubts that Mother would forgive you if you admitted to having committed murder!' he dismissed dryly.

It was impossible for Andy not to compare the two brothers.

Darius was so dark and forbidding, Xander more a golden Viking god. An urbane and very handsome Viking god, to be sure, in his black dinner suit, his golden hair long enough to brush over the collar of his jacket.

It was because she had been watching the two of them so closely that Andy had seen the way in which Xander's eyes now darkened, the pupils almost obliterating the deep brown of the irises as his smile became fixed rather than humorous.

‘Let's hope it never comes to that,' Xander muttered as he avoided meeting his brother's gaze by turning his attention back to Andy, his expression instantly becoming flirtatious. ‘An introduction would be nice, Darius?' he encouraged warmly.

‘Miranda Jacobs, my brother Xander,' Darius bit out economically.

‘Your
twin
brother,' Andy acknowledged lightly, deliberately stepping away from Darius's encircling arm about her waist as she shook hands with Xander.

Xander shot Darius an amused glance as he continued to hold her hand in his. ‘Obviously I'm the handsome twin.'

‘Oh, obviously!' She chuckled ruefully, finding Xander's flirtation and lazy charm much easier to deal with than the intensity of his brother's more mercurial moods.

Just as talking to Xander was also a welcome distraction from dwelling too much on thoughts of the heat of passion that had flared up so fiercely between herself and Darius just a short time ago.

‘You can let go of her hand now, Xander.' Darius's voice was dark with his displeasure.

Because of his brother's flirtatious comment and the hold Xander had kept on Andy's hand?

She simply didn't know Darius well enough to be able to answer that question.

‘Possessive, much?' His brother obviously felt no such uncertainty.

‘Not in the least,' Darius dismissed harshly; he had never felt possessive over a woman in his life, least of all when it came to his own brother.

But then what explanation was there for his earlier sharpness towards Miranda, when he had thought she was far too interested in when or if Xander was going to be here too this evening?

As he was also far from pleased at watching Xander flirt with Miranda now?

Or the fact that he now wanted to slap Xander's hand away as it continued to hold Miranda's?

Whatever those feelings were, Darius wasn't comfortable with them. He didn't do possessive, any more than he did relationships.

He desired Miranda, wanted to make love to her, even more so after their lovemaking just now, but that was all this was. He had no doubts that once he'd had her in his bed his interest would wane, as it had with every other woman he had known.

‘You really should go and make your apologies to Mother now,' Darius told his brother abruptly.

‘Thank heavens for Charles, hmm?' Xander grimaced. ‘I do believe he could calm Mother down no matter what.'

‘He loves her.' Darius nodded.

Xander's eyes glittered darkly. ‘She deserves nothing less after being married to our bastard of a father for fourteen years.'