Golden Fever. Carole Mortimer
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To the man now standing in the doorway she must have looked as if she were blatantly admiring herself. She snatched up the bra of her bikini, clutching it in front of her as she stared at Rourke Somerville in fascinated horror.
His gaze was frankly appraising as he came farther into the room, closing the door behind him, still wearing only the brief black trunks. ‘I thought I hadn’t imagined you,’ he murmured, his voice having a magical lilt to it that charmed without effort. ‘Where have you been hiding yourself?’ he asked huskily.
‘I—Why, nowhere.’ But she wished she could hide herself now, knowing this man had taken in every naked inch of her—and by the glint in his eyes he had liked what he saw!
He walked slowly over to where she was, unsuccessfully, trying to hide herself, plucking the bikini top out of her nervous fingers, holding her hands down at her sides as he slowly looked at her. The eyes he finally raised to hers had flickering flames lighting their deep blue depths. ‘I’ve certainly never met you before,’ he said throatily.
Clare licked her lips, not realising how provocative the movement was. ‘You haven’t?’ she delayed, her embarrassment fading, and a languorous warmth starting to invade her lower limbs under his avid gaze, her eyes the colour of rich, molten gold.
Rourke Somerville smiled, his teeth very white against his tanned skin. ‘I would have remembered you,’ he murmured, releasing her hands to run his fingertips lightly over the flatness of her stomach, a devil entering his eyes as his hands came to rest at the top of her bikini briefs. He laughed softly in his throat as he heard her catch her breath, those sensuous hands moving up towards her breasts now, his gaze fixed firmly on her flushed face, smiling as he watched her reaction to his caresses.
She flinched as he touched her breasts. Ten years of convent education had not prepared her for the sensuality of this man. The nearest the nuns had ever come to discussing sex had been in the Biology class, and then it had only been mentioned briefly as part of life’s cycle.
But this man was everything the nuns had ever warned her about in a man—and everything the other girls had ever whispered about in their secret fantasies!
‘Please don’t do that!’ She shuddered as his hands resumed their exploration of her lower body.
He raised heavy lids. ‘Why not?’
‘Because—well, because——’
He shook his head. ‘But I want to touch you. You’re like sunshine, do you know that?’ One of his hands moved to cup her chin, rubbing his thumb caressingly over her lips. ‘Young, fresh, and bright.’
‘Please——’
‘No need to ask, Sunshine,’ he said huskily, his head bending towards hers. ‘I have no intention of leaving this room until I’ve at least kissed you.’
Dating boys hadn’t exactly been encouraged at the convent, although Clare had had her fair share of dates. But they had been with boys, boys of her own age, and Rourke Somerville was definitely a man, in every sense of the word.
As his mouth moved druggingly over hers he pulled her thighs in between his, their bathing suits no barrier to the throb of Rourke’s body, and her lips parted willingly beneath his.
His hands moved beneath her bikini to cup her heated flesh, moving his thighs against her as he held her steady, leaving her in no doubt of his full arousal.
Clare panicked. Everything was moving too fast for her inexperience, and she wrenched her mouth away from, his, pushing at his hands. ‘Please—stop!’ She looked at him with darkened eyes. ‘Stop …’ she groaned as his lips moved to the sensitive cord in her throat.
‘You don’t really want me to do that,’ he taunted softly. ‘And I don’t want to either.’
‘But I do!’ she cried, finally managing to push him away, her breathing heavy as she escaped his arms. Rourke watched the heaving of her breasts until she snatched up the blouse she had worn for the flight, pulling it on over her nakedness.
Rourke shrugged, making no effort to hide the arousal of his own body. ‘What’s the panic?’ he shrugged.
She gave him an angry glare. ‘The panic is that you shouldn’t be in here.’ And he certainly shouldn’t have touched her the way he had! Her skin still tingled from the contact.
‘Why?’
‘Because—You just shouldn’t!’ she said angrily, knowing that while she might tell Diana she had met Rourke Somerville, she would never tell her what else had happened between them.
His eyebrows rose. ‘You aren’t the maid or something, are you?’
‘Of course not!’ She flushed.
‘Of course not.’ He looked pointedly around the luxurious bedroom she was occupying, the totally feminine lemon and white decor. ‘Darling, anyone who comes to one of Carlene’s parties knows the score,’ he drawled.
Clare blinked hard. ‘They—they do?’
‘Mm,’ he nodded. ‘Anything goes—and I mean anything. So if we choose to spend the rest of the afternoon in bed together no one is going to mind.’
‘No!’ She backed away as he advanced, more shocked by what he was saying than she wanted him to know. Did her mother really give parties like that?
‘Why not?’ His deep blue eyes narrowed. ‘Or is one of those guys downstairs yours’?’
‘Guys? Downstairs …? Oh no,’ she realised he meant the other men by the pool. ‘No,’ she shook her head firmly.
‘Then what’s wrong?’ His mouth twisted. ‘Don’t tell me you don’t like me!’
She knew she deserved his mockery. Of course she couldn’t deny liking him, she hadn’t exactly screamed the place down when he had kissed and caressed her. And this man was too experienced with women not to know she had responded totally to him.
‘No …’ she acknowledged faintly.
‘And I certainly like you. Relax, beautiful,’ he grinned, his hands lightly grasping the tops of her arms to pull her slowly towards him. ‘If you want to take it slow we’ll take it slow,’ he shrugged. ‘But not here. Let’s go back to my place, relax—you can even sunbathe nude if you want to,’ he added throatily. ‘I often do.’
He was only confirming what she had already guessed, and the transition from the convent to nude sunbathing was too much of a shock for her to do anything else but blush.
Rourke’s eyes narrowed on her fiery cheeks. ‘Who are you?’ he asked in a puzzled voice, his hands dropping away from her arms.
‘I——’
‘Rourke? Rourke, where are you?’
His mouth twisted as he half turned towards