Taken by the Millionaire: Hotly Bedded, Conveniently Wedded
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He sucked in a breath. ‘You’re beautiful. How come it’s taken me all these years to notice?’
‘Because you’ve dated a string of women who were practically models?’ she suggested.
He gave her a mock-affronted look. ‘Isobel Martin, are you calling me shallow?’
‘Yup.’
He grinned. ‘Better hope I have hidden depths, then.’
He traced the lacy edge of her bra with the tip of one finger. The light touch made her quiver, and her nipples were tightening again.
Although he didn’t make a comment, he’d clearly noticed, and rubbed the pad of his thumb across them; the friction of her lacy bra against her sensitive skin sent a thrill through her.
‘You’re still fully clothed,’ she said.
‘Do something about it, then,’ he invited.
She undid the buttons of his shirt to reveal a broad, muscular chest, olive skin and dark hair. Such perfect musculature. She ran her fingertips over his hard pectoral muscles, his ribcage. And when she looked him straight in the eye, she could barely see his irises, his pupils were so huge. Meaning that he was as turned on by this mutual exploration as she was.
He slid the straps of her bra down, then kissed her bare shoulders; Isobel felt a sharp kick of excitement in her stomach. His mouth drifted along to the curve of her neck; when she closed her eyes and tipped her head to one side, he began a trail of tiny, nibbling kisses all the way along the sensitive cord at the side of her neck. His lips were warm and sure and incredibly sexy, and he was finding erogenous zones she hadn’t even known existed. Isobel shivered when he lingered in the sensitive spot behind her ear and her mouth parted involuntarily.
Then she became aware of the lacy fabric of her bra falling away from her skin; he’d unfastened it with one hand, so deftly she hadn’t even realised what he was doing. And now her breasts were spilling into his hands; he cupped them, lifting them slightly, teasing her nipples with his thumb and forefinger and making her quiver with arousal. From the hard pressure through his jeans against her thigh, she knew that he was just as turned on.
‘I love having you sitting on my lap,’ he whispered, ‘but it isn’t enough for me, Bel. I need more. Now. I need to touch you. Taste you.’
She needed it, too. ‘Yes.’
Gently, he shifted her off his lap and lay her back against the pillows. Kneeling between her parted thighs, he dipped his head, took one nipple into his mouth and sucked.
Oh, Lord.
So many sensations at once.
The soft silkiness of his hair against her skin, contrasting with the beginnings of spiky stubble on his face. The movement of his tongue and lips. The warmth of his mouth. The pressure of the suction. The tingling that started in her nipples and seemed to flood through every nerve-end.
‘Oh, yes, Alex,’ she whispered, arching her back against the softness of the duvet. She slid her hands into his hair, wanting more.
He lifted his head a fraction and looked up at her, his eyes dark in the candlelight. ‘Do you like that?’
‘Yes.’ The word came out slurred with pleasure.
‘Good. So do I.’ He paid attention to her other nipple, teasing it with his teeth and his tongue until she was wriggling, then slowly kissed his way down her abdomen. ‘I wish you were wearing a skirt.’
‘Why?’
‘Because these are in the way.’ He stroked his hands down the denim of her jeans, then slid one hand between her thighs, cupping her sex through her jeans. ‘If you were wearing a skirt I’d be closer than this.’ He rubbed one finger along the seam of her jeans, pressing against her clitoris. ‘Much closer.’
And right now she needed him much closer. She shivered. ‘Alex. You’re driving me crazy.’
‘That’s the idea.’ He shifted back onto his haunches, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on hers as he undid the top button of her jeans.
They were getting nearer and nearer the point of no return.
Slowly, slowly, he lowered the zip. The air felt cool against her heated skin, and she shivered.
‘Cold?’
‘And hot,’ she admitted.
‘Good.’ He leaned forward and kissed the skin he’d just uncovered. ‘And you’re going to get hotter still by the time I’ve finished with you.’
And wet.
God, she was wet. So ready for him.
Gently, he encouraged her to lift her buttocks, and pulled her jeans down over her hips. He made short work of removing them after that, taking off her socks at the same time so she was left wearing only a tiny pair of knickers. He looked at her, lying against the pillows, and sucked in a breath. ‘Wow. How come I never noticed you’re a pocket Venus? All curves.’
Curves. She flushed and wrapped her arms round herself.
He groaned. ‘I didn’t say “fat”.’
‘I am compared with the stick insects you normally date.’
‘I might date them,’ he said softly, ‘but it doesn’t necessarily mean I sleep with them. And, for the record, I happen to like curves. And yours are gorgeous.’ He slid the tips of his fingers underneath hers. ‘Don’t be shy with me. I want to see you, Isobel.’ Gently, he prised her hands away from her body. ‘You’re lovely.’
She dragged in a breath. ‘This isn’t fair. You’re still wearing your jeans.’
‘I’m all yours, honey. Do with me what you will.’ He spread his hands in invitation.
It had been a long, long time since she’d played this sort of game with anyone. Towards the end, with Gary, sex had been primarily to make a baby, not an expression of love. And when that had all gone wrong…
‘Touch me, Bel,’ he said, his voice sinfully inviting.
Isobel reached out and undid the top button of his jeans. And the next. And the next. She could feel his erection straining against her fingers as she continued unbuttoning his fly. What was sauce for the goose, she thought with an inward smile, and traced the outline of his penis with one fingertip.
He shivered. ‘I think I should warn you not to tease me.’
‘Is that a threat?’
He shook his head. ‘You can tease me as much as you like, later. But I want this first time to be for you.’ He took her hand and kissed it, sucking each fingertip in turn.
The movement of his mouth against her skin made the pulse beat hard between her legs. If he could make her feel like this just by playing with her fingers, what was it going to be like when he touched her more intimately?
She sat up again and pulled his jeans down over his hips. On impulse, she pressed her mouth against his abdomen.
He groaned. ‘I warned you about teasing me.’ He rolled to one side and ripped off his jeans and socks, then joined her on the bed.
‘I half expected you to go commando.’
He laughed. ‘No. ‘Then his expression went serious. ‘Bel, just for the record, I don’t sleep around. I date a lot, I have a good time, but I’m fussy about who I take to bed. And in the past I’ve always used protection.’
She nodded, appreciating his candour. And she believed him absolutely. ‘I haven’t—’ she dragged in a breath ‘—slept with anyone since I split up with Gary.’ Two years. More, if you counted the last disastrous months of her marriage. She’d dated a couple of times but she’d never gone further than a goodnight peck on the cheek.
He stroked her cheek. ‘Then we’ll take this slowly.’
He was going to stop? Now?
She must’ve said it aloud, because his eyes darkened. ‘I’m not going to stop, Bel.’ His voice was deep and husky and sexy as hell. ‘And, as much as I feel as though I’m going to implode if I’m not inside you in the next nanosecond, I want this to be good for you.’
He wanted her that much? Oh-h-h. ‘I need you inside me, too,’ she whispered. And she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt that needy. The last time she’d wanted sex for its own sake and not to make a baby.
Gently, Alex removed her knickers and slid one hand between her thighs. She felt the long, slow stroke of one finger against her sex, a movement that had her quivering and needing more. As if he could read her mind, he did it again. And again.
‘This is taking it slowly?’ She could hardly get the words out.
‘Uh-huh.’
‘You’re driving me crazy, Alex. I want …’
‘This?’ He pushed one finger inside her.
She gasped. ‘Yes.’ The word came out as a hiss of pleasure.
He continued circling her clitoris with his thumb, and she wriggled against him, wanting more.
‘You’re so warm and wet for me,’ he whispered. ‘Just how I want you.’
‘Alex. Now. Please,’ she said huskily. ‘I need … I want …’ Why couldn’t she even string a sentence together? She was never this inarticulate.
He smiled. ‘Guess what? I want you all the way back.’ He stripped off his jockey shorts, then took a condom from his discarded jeans and rolled it on before kneeling between her thighs again and kissing her. She felt the tip of his penis nudge against her entrance—and then he was inside her with one long, slow, deep thrust.
She shuddered.
He stilled, letting her body adjust to his. ‘Are you all right, Bel?’
‘Yes—I just wasn’t expecting this to … Oh-h-h,’ she said as he began to move again.
She could feel the pressure growing, warmth curling at the soles of her feet and spreading up through her body into ripples, then waves.
She’d known Alex would be good at this—Alex was good at everything he did—but she really hadn’t expected it to be this good, taking her to a completely different world.
‘Bel,’ Alex demanded softly. ‘Look at me.’
She opened her eyes—and saw the same wonder she was feeling reflected in his own eyes as her climax hit her.
It was a while before she could even think, let alone speak. And she was cradled in Alex’s arms, her head resting on his shoulder.
‘I think,’ he said softly, ‘that proves we’re pretty compatible.’
‘Yes.’ More than she’d ever expected.
He stroked her face. ‘So. We like each other. We have a lot in common. And the sex is good.’
She had a nasty feeling she knew where this was heading.
‘So how about we don’t burst anybody’s bubble?’ He shifted so he could kiss her lightly. ‘If we get married, it’s going to solve all the problems at a single stroke.’
No, it wasn’t. Because she was going to have to tell him about the miscarriages. ‘Alex—about the baby business …’
‘It’s fine.’ He pressed his forefinger lightly against her lips. ‘Stop worrying. I know you love your job and you’re good at it. I’m not expecting you to give it up. If we do have children, we’ll work something out. If we don’t, then we’ll carry on exactly as we are.’
He said that now, but how would he feel later?
‘It’s a win-win situation.’
Hardly. Because Alex didn’t love her. Which meant their marriage would be one-sided—and if he had any idea that she was falling in love with him, he’d back off straight away. He made no secret about the fact he considered himself allergic to love.
‘Bel. Stop panicking.’ He stole a kiss. ‘It’s going to be fine.’
‘Is it?’
He smiled. ‘I think I’m going to enjoy spending the rest of today proving it to you. Very, very slowly.’
Her face felt hot. ‘Alex!’
‘I’m going to get us something to eat.’ He climbed out of bed. ‘Stay put. And I mean it, Bel. No worrying. This might just be the best idea either of us has ever had.’
CHAPTER FIVE
THE alarm shrilled; Isobel rolled over to hit the snooze button and collided with a body.
A warm, hard and very obviously male body.
‘Good morning, Bel,’ Alex said quietly.
How could he possibly be awake already? They’d spent much of the previous night making love, after Alex had returned to bed with a platter of fruit and cheese and crackers and insisted on feeding her. They’d explored each other’s bodies so completely that neither of them had anything left to hide.
And right now all Isobel wanted to do was snuggle back under the duvet, wrapped in his arms, and go back to sleep.
‘Hello? Earth to Isobel? Anyone home?’ he teased.
He sounded bright and chirpy. But that was Alex, able to burn the candle at both ends. He could stay up late—or, in the case of last night, spend a fair part of it making love—and still be wide awake and ready to go at the crack of dawn.
‘Uh,’ she said.
He must’ve hit the snooze button because the alarm stopped shrieking; then he rolled her onto her side and curved his body round hers. ‘Good morning, sleepyhead.’ He kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear. ‘I take it you have to be up for work this morning.’
‘Uh.’
He chuckled. ‘I always thought you were a morning person.’
‘I am,’ she mumbled, ‘if I get enough sleep first.’
He traced a lazy circle round her navel with his fingertip. ‘Ah. That. I guess we were a bit … busy, last night.’ His hand flattened against her stomach, then slid upward to cup one breast. ‘Any regrets, this morning?’
Apart from aches in muscles she’d forgotten she had … She twisted round to face him and pressed a kiss into his chest. ‘No.’
‘Good. So you’re going to marry me, then.’
He hadn’t actually asked her, the previous night. None of the traditional down-on-one-knee stuff, no declaration of love, no four little words.
She suppressed the sting of hurt. He had asked her, a few days before—and she’d refused him. So this time round he hadn’t asked and she hadn’t accepted. Which, in a weird sense, made them quits in this marriage that wasn’t a marriage.
‘Bel?’
She forced herself to sound light-hearted. ‘Depends.’
‘On what?’
‘I need coffee.’
‘I can take a hint.’ He laughed. ‘Go and have a shower, and I’ll make us some breakfast.’ He stroked her hair. ‘I’m tempted to join you in the shower … but then you’d be seriously late for work, and I don’t want to get you into trouble.’
‘Trouble?’
‘For spending the morning in the shower with me instead of doing what you’re supposed to be doing.’
She could just imagine the water beating down on them as Alex eased into her body, and desire flooded through her. ‘Oh-h-h.’
‘Tempted?’ he teased.
She slid the flat of her palm down his side, curving round his buttocks. ‘Mmm.’
The alarm shrilled again, and she groaned. ‘I have to go to work.’
‘We’ll take a rain check. Just keep thinking about whatever put that incredibly sexy look on your face just now—and tell me tonight. In detail. So I can act it out.’
Oh, Lord.
How was she supposed to concentrate on anything for the rest of the day, after a promise like that?
He shut off the alarm and climbed out of bed, pausing only to pull on his boxer shorts, and headed for the kitchen.
By the time Isobel had showered and dressed for work, Alex had made a pot of proper coffee, set the table and was halfway through buttering some hot toast.
‘Breakfast,’ he said with a smile.
Sitting there at her kitchen table, bare-chested, he looked utterly edible.
She’d never breakfasted like this with Alex before. Sure, they’d had breakfast together plenty of times. But not when he was practically naked. And not when they’d spent most of the previous night making love, and his hair was all mussed, and she knew just what that sexy mouth felt like against her skin. All she wanted to do right now was sit on his lap, make his hair even messier, kiss him stupid and drag him back to her bed.
God, she really needed that coffee.
She couldn’t fall in love with Alex. This wasn’t part of the deal.
‘Thanks,’ she mumbled, reaching for her mug. He’d made the coffee just the way she liked it—hot, strong and milky. ‘Mmm. Perfect.’
‘Me or the coffee?’ he enquired with a lazy grin.
‘The coffee, of course.’
‘Huh. Tomorrow, Isobel Martin, you can make your own breakfast,’ he retorted. Though the gleam in his eye told her he was enjoying the banter as much as she was.
‘House rules—you stay here, you make breakfast,’ she teased back.
His eyes glittered. ‘I can think of some much more interesting house rules. But then you’ll be very, very late for work.’ He moistened his lower lip. ‘Want me to tell you?’ His gaze slid lower. ‘Mmm. Looks as if you can guess.’
She folded one arm across her breasts. ‘Alex. That’s not fair.’
He laughed. ‘Sorry, Bel. I shouldn’t tease you. Not when I can’t carry it through to its proper conclusion.’
‘No.’ She paused. ‘Alex, about last night … I wasn’t expecting it to be so…’ How could she say this without insulting him? ‘Well, so good,’ she ended lamely.
‘Neither was I,’ he said. ‘I mean—I’ve always liked you. A lot. But last night wasn’t just going through the motions, was it? It wasn’t just perfunctory sex.’ He reached over and took her hand. Kissed her palm and folded her fingers over his kiss. ‘Maybe we should’ve done this a long time ago.’
‘You weren’t ready to settle down.’ She wasn’t so sure that he was ready now. Alex wasn’t a settling-down kind of man. He was more like a meteor shower that made a spectacular appearance in your life for a brief while and then vanished—until the next time.
So although sex with Alex had been a revelation—of the nicest possible kind—she wasn’t going to let her heart get involved. Wasn’t going to rely on him.
‘What are you doing today?’ she asked.
‘A bit of research. You?’
‘Probably working up a handout for the touring exhibition.’
‘Want to do lunch?’
She shook her head regretfully. ‘Sorry. I’ve got meetings that I know are going to end up going through lunch.’
‘Admin. Bleugh.’ He pulled a face. ‘My least favourite bit of any job.’
‘Says the man who’s planning to get a desk job.’
‘I’ll be negotiating for an admin assistant.’
She laughed. ‘You would.’
‘I don’t want to spend my time on tedious paperwork when I could be doing something much more interesting.’ He smiled at her. ‘I’ll see you back here tonight, then. And I might even cook you dinner.’
‘Yeah, right,’ she scoffed. ‘Once you’re in the archives, you only leave when they chuck you out at closing time.’
He gave her a speaking look. ‘As if you don’t do exactly the same.’
She shrugged. ‘I love my job.’
‘I know. Which is why you understand me so well.’
She finished her toast. ‘I’d better be off. See you later.’
‘You’re leaving me to do the washing-up? Not fair,’ he complained teasingly. ‘I made breakfast.’
‘I’ll pay you back tonight.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘I’ll hold you to that.’
Over the next few days, life just seemed to get better and better. Alex was right about an affair not affecting their friendship; he still talked to her as much, argued with her and teased her. But at the same time their love-making gave an added dimension to their relationship. One Isobel hadn’t expected. She couldn’t remember being this happy before, even in the early days with Gary—in the days before they’d tried for a family. Before Gary had accused her of putting her job before their baby, the last time she’d miscarried. An accusation that was so far beyond unfair, it was untrue. She’d wanted a baby just as much as he had. And if the midwife had put her on bedrest for her entire pregnancy, she would’ve done it for the sake of their child.
She shook herself.
Not now.
Though now she’d agreed to marry Alex, the question of babies rose uppermost in her mind. He’d been so casual about it, saying that if it happened, it happened, and he’d be guided by her. But when she told him just how much she wanted a baby, would it make him run?
And there were no guarantees she could even have a baby.
Then there was his new job. Although he was based in England, it would still involve a fair amount of travelling. So his lifestyle wasn’t really going to fit in with being a dad.
She needed to talk to him about this. Before the engagement and wedding plans went too far. It was just a matter of finding the right time.
The following Thursday morning, Alex was not only up at the crack of dawn, he was wearing a suit.
Isobel blinked. ‘Blimey. You really are trying to impress the interviewers.’
‘No. I’m giving them a chance to see me as a consultant,’ he corrected. ‘Someone who can talk to the money people—they already know I can do the other side of the job.’
‘The last time I saw you in a suit, it was Flora’s christening.’
‘It’s the same suit,’ he said with a grin. ‘I only possess one. And it usually gets dragged out for just christenings and weddings.’
‘Uh-huh. Well, you look professional. Just check your pockets for confetti.’
‘Good point.’ He checked his pockets. ‘No confetti.’
‘Good.’ She kissed him lightly. ‘And I’m buying you dinner tonight to celebrate.’
‘You really think I’m going to get the job?’
‘Of course I do. You’re the best candidate.’
‘You don’t actually know any of the other candidates,’ he pointed out.
She shrugged. ‘I don’t need to.’
He smiled. ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence. So what are you doing today?’
‘Being Flavia.’
He laughed. ‘You love all that dressing-up stuff, don’t you? It’s just like when you and Saskia were little—pretending to be a princess or a bride or what have you.’
‘Don’t knock it,’ she said with a grin. ‘It’s a lot of fun. I know you proper archaeologists have a bit of a downer on living history, but it gets the kids interested, and that’s a good thing.’
‘Living history’s OK as long as you’re not too earnest about it.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘And you know exactly what I mean. So what’s today’s topic? Roman food?’
‘Domestic stuff. Beauty,’ she said.
‘Mmm. Well, if you need someone to oil you and get the strigil out…’
She laughed. ‘Don’t you dare. You’ll mess up your suit.’ She paused. ‘Will you know today?’
He nodded. ‘Assessments this morning and then interviews, and then they’ll tell us.’
‘Text me when you hear?’
‘Course I will.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I’d better go. See you tonight.’
‘I’m not going to wish you luck. Just go and be yourself. That’ll be more than enough to get you the job.’
‘Especially as I’m a nice, settled, about-to-be-married man.’ He kissed her. ‘Thanks, Bel. I owe you.’
She patted his shoulder. ‘Go and show them what you’re made of.’
When he’d gone, Isobel tidied up the kitchen and then headed for work. Although she normally loved the days when she did the hands-on displays, today she found herself itching for her lunch break so she could check her mobile phone.
But there was no message from Alex. He must still be in the interview, or waiting round while the other candidates were being grilled, she thought. Well, she’d just have to wait until the end of her shift.
She was partway through getting the children to guess what all the items were on the little manicure set she kept on her belt, and was right at the point where they were gleefully disgusted by the earwax remover when she became aware of someone walking into the gallery, dressed in a toga with a broad purple stripe. Odd. She didn’t think they had anyone playing the part of a senator today. Maybe they’d changed the schedules round a bit without telling her and were doing politics in the next gallery.
As the man in the toga drew nearer, she realised who it was.
He’d oiled his hair back to give the impression of a short Roman crop.
And he looked utterly gorgeous.
But what on earth was Alex doing here, dressed like this?
‘Sorry I’m late. Politics in the Forum,’ he said with a smile, coming to join her.
What?
But—
She didn’t have time to ask any questions because he stood next to her and took her hand, before turning to the audience. ‘I’m Marcus, the senator in charge of the emperor’s entertainment. I order the elephants and the gladiators for displays in the circus, so I’m very busy—and I really need someone at home keeping my domestic affairs in order, running my household.’