Australia: In Bed with the Playboy

‘You’ve seen it all before,’ Ivy commented ruefully at one point.

‘Not since I was in my teens. My parents took Olivia and me on a world tour as part of our education.’

Not with another woman then, Ivy thought with a rush of relief. It was ridiculous wanting something exclusive to herself, knowing how very experienced he was, yet she instantly felt happier in her anticipation of their travels together.

‘Besides, I’ll enjoy it so much more being with you,’ he said, smiling into her eyes, making her heart melt with longing for that to be true.

‘Talking of paintings, why did you choose to hang Sydney Nolan’s Ned Kelly images in this bedroom?’ she asked, wanting to understand more of the man. ‘Do you feel some affinity with our famous bushranger or do they simply complement the decor with him wearing his black armour?’

He sidestepped the question, asking, ‘Do you like them?’

‘They’re great, but I thought you’d be more into nudes in here.’

He grinned. ‘I don’t need that kind of stimulation.’

She laughed, well aware that he had no problem with impotence. ‘You still haven’t told me why Ned Kelly?’

His eyes were hooded as his fingertips feathered her lips. ‘He reminds me always to be armoured. Especially in the bedroom. Only you have ever made me forget that, Ivy.’

He kissed her, as though wanting to draw that power from her soul, be the man who never lost control again. The simmering excitement instantly escalated, compelling them into another climactic union. It wasn’t until long afterwards that Ivy thought about what he’d said about always being armoured.

A billionaire’s son, a billionaire in his own right—a target for people who wanted a piece of him for their own ends, in the bedroom and out of it. She imagined very few people would ever fool him in business, but there was a natural vulnerability with intimacy, a wish to trust. Jordan had seen his sister be a victim of it three times because of her wealth.

Was it any wonder that he’d chosen a playboy lifestyle?

Essentially a lonely life, Ivy thought, always armoured.

And she was lonely, too.

She enjoyed his company on the tour of his house, enjoyed his company over the delicious dinner Margaret served them, enjoyed the seductively sensual skinny-dipping in the solar-heated pool later in the evening and revelled in the lovemaking that followed. She didn’t feel lonely with him and she hoped he didn’t feel lonely with her.

Before Jordan had to leave for his family meeting the next morning, they had a happy, relaxed breakfast together and made plans for him to spend the next week-end on the rose farm with her. Ivy drove home feeling brilliantly alive, hoping they could make a lovely self-contained world together that nothing could spoil.

She knew it was a rather silly hope.

Other things would inevitably intrude.

But she was determined to enjoy what she could with Jordan while she could.

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