ASH LEANED BACK against the table, drumming his fingertips on the wood behind him and debating whether he ought to knock on the door and ask if she was okay. She’d been locked in the bedroom of their hotel suite for over an hour. Was she worrying? Was she literally hiding again? He felt uneasy and he never felt uneasy. But she’d been taking too long. He straightened up, deciding to go, and then the door opened. Adrenaline blasted, stopping him dead. He was only able to stare.
‘What are you wearing?’ he croaked.
He’d not meant to say that. Not meant to question her choices or sound judgmental and make her self-conscious. But her smile flashed. Not just any smile—brilliant, unguarded, a tiny bit self-satisfied—so he knew she’d not taken his moronic question any of those wrong ways. She’d heard the underlying truth—he was stunned and too caught up in staring at her to care.
‘I like how it feels,’ she said.
Anticipation tightened every muscle. His beautiful secret sensualist was wearing a jumpsuit unlike anything he’d ever seen. A week ago he’d never have thought he’d find any kind of coveralls sexy, yet here it was happening again. But these weren’t for protective purpose. They were scarlet and silk and sleeveless, and skimmed her body, clinging to the fullest points of her curves. The deep vee drew his eye and the fabric flowed as she walked towards him—in scarlet high heels to match. She’d left her hair loose so it hung down her back in a rich brunette swathe. Impossibly, her skin was even more radiant. She’d look less visible in a little black dress that revealed far more skin. This was so much better than that. This was Merle doing her thing, her way. The smile in her eyes felled him all over again.
‘Are you okay?’ she asked.
‘I don’t think so.’ He groaned, literally backing away from her. ‘We’d better go.’
He barely noticed the restaurant, barely tasted the food, was barely aware of the service or of anyone else present. He could only see her. He didn’t know how he kept up with her banter. It was as if his brain had been stupefied.
‘Will you dance with me?’ he asked, unable to sit still a second longer.
For the first time all evening doubt shadowed her eyes. ‘It might be more stand and sway than spin, okay?’
Stand and sway sounded perfect. He ached to get his hands on her—to anchor himself, to ensure she was real. As they walked towards that darkened area, he was aware of heads turning. Of course people looked—she was stunning. But it hauled up other concerns. While he wanted the world to appreciate her, he also wanted to keep her to himself. Suddenly he felt possessive.
Even here in Auckland he was recognisable. The media in Australia had followed him for years. When he’d first turned his back on his father he’d welcomed the stupid society gossip blogs, annual most-eligible lists, relentless speculation and stories, all fuel to which he was the flame, to shame his father. But he didn’t want Merle exposed to any negativity. If people found out what he’d been up to this week? It could totally be construed as a scandal. He’d seduced an innocent. Kept her in his holiday home to be his lover. It sounded as bad and mad as if he’d locked her in that damn bunker.
Wasn’t it worse than humiliating Rose? Never had he been as selfish. But Merle was an adult—she’d asked. She’d wanted and she’d taken. This was a scandal they’d both desired and they were both determined to make the most of. But he couldn’t help pointing out the problem to her.
‘People are watching,’ he muttered. ‘Are you okay with that?’
‘Oh, I’m fine.’ She grinned. ‘They’re watching you.’
They were not.
‘Okay—’ she shot him a sideways look, together with an impish grin ‘—they’re looking at me too. But I don’t mind.’
He’d wanted to spoil her. He’d wanted her to have a night where the spotlight was on and she could see she could do more than survive in its light. He’d wanted to see and feel the world through her perspective some more because that hope, that optimism she had, was tantalising when he’d lost his so long ago.
‘If you’d had cameras in your face all the time, trust me, you’d start to mind,’ he muttered.
‘Maybe.’ Merle nodded.
Right now she didn’t really care about anything—she was too busy basking in the glow of Ash’s attention. How he’d worked out that people were watching them she didn’t know because he’d not taken his eyes off her and it was thrilling. But it was more than his attention: it was his influence and his outrageousness that encouraged her own sense of liberation. He’d bluntly pointed out her right to speak up. That he lived and moved with such confidence inspired her to answer back, to be as blunt and as honest.
It wasn’t that she didn’t care about consequences, of course she did, but she wasn’t afraid of them in the way she had been for half her life. She felt alive, as if she had vitality and fight within her to stand not just beside him but also in front of him and be bold. It was invigorating. Enriching. Addictive. She spread her hand across his chest, feeling his tension, the powerful thump of his heart against her palm. Ash did not stay still. He was full of vigour and vitality and humour. He had more energy than anyone she’d ever met—a freewheeling force of nature. But he’d been so careful with her. Tender. He’d channelled all that energy, focused it on her pleasure. There was nothing as seductive as all of his attention.
She’d not realised how stuck she’d become. How constrained. Why had she let things hold her back for so long? She’d not wanted to see the problematic issues from her upbringing but perhaps he’d been right about that too—that she’d made too many excuses for too long, ignoring the impact on herself. She loved her family and she knew they’d done their best but it hadn’t been easy for her—she’d not been the priority. But now she had absolute freedom and she could live her own life on her own terms. And she wanted to.
‘What are you thinking?’ Ash suddenly asked.
She glanced up at him and smiled.
His hold on her tightened. ‘You’re more luminous than ever.’
She laughed. ‘It’s the lighting in here.’
‘No.’ The question in his beautiful amber eyes was unrelenting. ‘Tell me what you’re thinking.’
How could she resist him anything when he looked at her like that?
‘That I’m happy.’ She blinked back a sudden burn behind her eyes. ‘I’m enjoying the freedom to do what I want. How I want. When and where and with whom I choose.’
And that was with Ash.
She felt the response ripple down his body. He wasn’t perfect, but he didn’t claim to be. He’d been honest—letting her know he had flaws and had made mistakes. And he’d made her appreciate that other people in her life hadn’t been perfect either. Despite her tendency to try to see the best, sometimes it was good to accept an honest assessment.
And honestly? She adored her new jumpsuit. She’d searched online and had it delivered direct to the hotel—living like Ash Castle himself. It had arrived on time and hadn’t even needed alterations. It was comfortable yet sexy and she didn’t regret blowing some of her pay on it. It had been so long since she’d done something for herself.
Aren’t you doing this for him?
Maybe partly—and his reaction? So worth it.
‘Merle?’ he asked again. ‘Why are you chuckling to yourself?’
‘I’m thinking that I don’t care what anyone thinks.’ She smiled, aware of her blossoming sensuality and confidence. ‘Except you. But I know you like my outfit.’
‘Not just your outfit.’
A ripple of sensual awareness skimmed down her spine. The pleasure, the sensations, of this evening? Stepping out with him, teasing him, enjoying every mouthful of that stunning food, the restaurant’s stylish decor and the sexy beats from the live band by the dance floor... Everything had been perfect. It wasn’t an experience she wanted to just remember, but an experience that she wanted again.
Ash Castle had opened up her world. He’d pulled her free of the shroud beneath which she’d hidden for so long—not her coverall, but her tendency to stay safe back in the shadows. He’d given her more than he’d promised. More than the sexuality she felt safe exploring with him, more than the light jokes and games between them. More than the serious conversation too.
But there was another, rarer element curling around all these things, threading them together, forming an unbreakable, undeniable core within her. Something invisible, something strong, had melded to her central framework and become inseparable from her very soul. She gazed up at him, lost in the world of memory and sensation, laughter, spark and sensuality. The world that was totally, utterly Ash.
Ash’s clothes felt too tight. His collar especially. It made breathing difficult. Thinking was simply impossible. That weird protectiveness rearing within tensed all of his muscles. But Merle held him close. She had rhythm. But then, he knew that, didn’t he? She moved so well in his arms. In sync and breathing together, they sensed and anticipated each other’s movements.
He was desperate to be alone with her. Yet he didn’t want to short-change her on the night out he’d promised. But she cupped his jaw. And she tempted him.
‘Shall we continue this dance upstairs?’ she murmured.
She saved him.
As the lift rose, taking them to their hotel suite, his tension scorched. ‘Merle...’
‘Yes?’
Something broke apart within him then. Her simple, sweet response. Affirmative. Listening. Willing.
It was everything he wanted from her. And it terrified him at the same time. He had no idea how he unlocked the hotel room or what he did with the damn key card, just that somehow they were inside the door and alone. Thank heavens.
This wasn’t just superficial desire, but also physical need underpinned by bone-deep longing. A fast release wasn’t going to work. But he was unable to stop himself from trying. The sexiest outfit ever had just become the source of the most insane frustration. Somehow he worked it out and the scarlet shimmered down her body in a slither of sexy colour and then she stood so close to naked, clad only in a tiny bra and thong, in matching scarlet. Ash had never felt as honoured in his life. Not even their first night together compared to this. He was utterly lost for words.
She smiled at him again. ‘Thank you for tonight. It was a lot of fun.’
Fun? He couldn’t stand the compressed sensation inside his chest. It was as if his heart had been clamped by some medieval instrument of torture. He couldn’t bear to look into her beautiful eyes but he couldn’t look away and something once held fast slipped loose inside. In another breath, every last semblance of his control was lost.
He tore the condom wrapper between his teeth. Her eyes widened with humour and arousal. A gorgeous, intoxicating, provocative mix that made him even more desperate to take her. Now. To his eternal gratitude she stepped forward and reached for his belt, intuitively understanding the level of pain he was in right now. Two strokes of her gentle hand up his turgid length was two too many for him to handle. He growled. Her gaze lifted to his. A smoky, sensual pride gleamed in those brown eyes.
He buried his thoughts by kissing her, rejoicing because it wasn’t a response that she gave him, it was an action of her own—the dance of her tongue against his, the slide she’d learned so quickly, tore at the last of his self-restraint. The way she wanted him destroyed him. This was a pure celebration of their physical selves—of desire and pleasure to be found with each other. But it wasn’t just that. The sudden tightness in his chest hurt.
He spun her to face the wall so he couldn’t see her expressive face, because he was so close to something else. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of that tiny scarlet thong and tugged it down. Seconds later he’d unhooked her bra and taken a moment to skim his palms across her tight-budded breasts before sliding his hands to settle heavy and hard on her hips, holding her where he needed her to be. This was sex. This was just another night. This meant nothing more. But then she braced her hands on the wall in front of her and pushed back, sliding her curvy derriere into him. Claiming her space. No longer hiding, no longer content to be invisible—not around him.
He could only take pleasure in her stance. Pressing her against the wall. And she was hot and wet, the silken pull of her muscles sending his into overdrive. He tensed at the base of his spine. His release so close. Too close. Too soon.
He fought to regain himself and slow it down. But her hair was loose and fragrant and her moans of delight, of demand, rang in his ears. He couldn’t resist pressing a kiss at the side of her neck and once there he was lost, tempted again by those sweet, small earlobes just made for him to nibble. She shuddered and cried out, her lithe body shaking. Passion and pleasure rushed over him at her response. His skin rippled as goose pimples lifted everywhere. He swiftly slipped his hand down to delve and delight her and heard her harsh, high-pitched cry of pleasure. He closed his eyes but the shock waves of her detonation went through him anyway and sucked the last of his control with it. He gripped her tightly and pumped hard, all control gone.
His heart slammed against his ribs. He didn’t want it to be over. He didn’t want this just to be...that. A night. A good time. A meaningless moment. Because that was the last thing this was for him. This felt like so much more and, even though he’d tried to deny it, he couldn’t any more. He tried again—slammed on the mental brakes, trying to stem the unfettered feelings flooding his body.
He wasn’t even undressed. His trousers were around his ankles as though he were some out-of-control teen. His shirt was stuck to his back, slick with sweat from the searing heat she’d roused in him. He’d ravished her. He could feel her legs trembling as she rested her forehead against her arms, taking support from the wall in front of her.
‘I’m sorry,’ he groaned. ‘Too fast.’
But she tilted her head back, resting against his shoulder and exposing the long, vulnerable column of her throat, and laughed. A brief, sexy chuckle that rang with pleasure and unvarnished, unashamed pride.
The jumble of concern in his head faded away. ‘You liked that?’
She chuckled again. ‘You seemed as if...’
‘As if?’ he said quietly. ‘As if I couldn’t stop myself? As if I couldn’t wait? As if I wanted nothing more than to be locked in here with you? Because that’s exactly what happened.’
At the dewy, deliciously dirty satisfaction in her eyes he was hard again. And, given the way she pressed her lithe, lissom body back against his, she knew exactly what she’d just done. She was the sweetest vixen. He’d forgotten that this was supposed to only be sex. He’d forgotten that it was ending. He’d forgotten that he couldn’t give her what she most needed.
All he wanted now was to make love to her for hours and hours.