style="font-size:15px;"> When they stepped into the house the first thing she noticed was how the sunlight lit up every corner. They were standing in a huge sprawling sitting room decorated and furnished in shades of coffee, biscuit and cream, the floor light wood and the main colour in the room coming from one long wall which was covered in decorative plates, glazed thickly like Arab pottery. A huge balcony looked over an awe-inspiring view of Positano, beyond which the azure waters of the ocean lay, and the balcony held a big table with six cushioned seats besides an array of lemon-scented verbenas, pink begonias, salvias and other flowers in terracotta pots which heavily perfumed the warm air.
‘Oh, wow.’ Maisie didn’t even try to be blasé. ‘This is the most incredible house.’
‘You haven’t seen it all yet,’ Blaine said mildly, but she could tell he was pleased by her reaction.
All of it consisted of a beautifully fitted white oak and black marble kitchen and separate dining room on the floor below the sitting room. Through this a door led into a wide courtyard-style garden with tropical trees and shrubs and masses of tubs of flowers, an iron table and chairs again looking out over the wonderful view. The courtyard was built on the left side of the house and was totally private. The floor above the sitting room held two large bedrooms with a bathroom between them, both of which had balconies to take advantage of the view again, but it was the top floor which took Maisie’s breath away. The master bedroom with its magnificent en suite bathroom in white and black marble was stunning. The wall which overlooked the ocean was made entirely of glass so that the occupants of the massive bed could see for miles and the balcony which stretched the length of the room also had panels of glass between its supports of stone so as not to impede the view from inside the room.
It wasn’t only the view that was making Maisie breathless though. The huge bed with its black silk sheets and voluptuous pillows was unlike any bed Maisie had seen before and must have been built inside the room. It was a masterpiece of decadence. Along one wall was a full-length walk-in wardrobe and on the other were shelves set into the wall holding books, tapes, papers and various other objects Maisie’s feverish gaze couldn’t pick out. But it was when she glanced at the ceiling she nearly died. The area over the bed was captured by a huge circular mirror, blatant and unashamed and bold.
Blaine was standing by the door and had remained there while she looked around, his arms folded across his chest and his big body relaxed as he leant against the wood. When her gaze shot down from the ceiling and she coloured violently, she knew he had noticed. Had noticed and enjoyed her reaction. Forcing herself to look straight at him, Maisie said, ‘This is very nice,’ and even to her own ears her voice sounded prim.
‘Nice? Is that the best you can do?’ he reproved her gently. ‘I spent a great deal of time planning this room.’
He was laughing at her. She knew he was laughing at her even though the dark handsome face betrayed no amusement. ‘It’s … unusual,’ she said tightly. ‘Very.’
‘Very unusual.’ He considered with his head slightly on one side. ‘Thank you. I like to think so.’
‘And … and very masculine. You know, being all black and white. Ascetic but luxurious at the same time. Was that the look you were trying to achieve?’ she asked, her face hot.
‘I don’t think I was exactly interested in a look,’ he murmured softly. ‘I just wanted somewhere where I could relax and enjoy … the view.’
She knew what view he was talking about all right. The view of some gorgeous nude beauty in that mirror, a woman who would be more than happy to take what he could offer and not ask for more commitment than he wanted to give. Workaholic, her foot! He might not bring any women home to meet Mother but he sure didn’t sit in this bed reading paperwork or dictating letters or whatever it was he did. Maisie didn’t know if she felt angry or sad. She thought actually it was a mixture of both with a big dollop of jealousy and envy thrown in for good measure.
But she’d only got herself to blame for this, she admitted silently. He hadn’t wanted to even see her tonight, let alone bring her to his house and certainly not his bedroom. Knowing that didn’t help at all.
He was out of her league in every way, she told herself, pretendingto look out of the glass doors leading to the balcony one last time. What on earth had she been doing in thinking there was a chance with him? Suddenly the loss of the few pounds in weight which had so cheered her earlier seemed utterly pathetic. Laughable. Not that she felt like laughing.
‘Come downstairs and I’ll fix you a drink while I change.’ His voice was gentle, all amusement gone.
Maisie heard it with something like horror. Was he feeling sorry for her now? Pride brought her head up and injected a bright note into her voice. ‘Lovely.’ She turned from the view and sailed across the room, quite forgetting about the vertiginous sandals and almost doing the splits because of her mistake.
‘Careful.’ Blaine caught her in his arms as she catapulted forward, saving something of her dignity in the process but causing her a bigger problem when she found herself held against a hard male chest, his shirt smelling deliciously of some nice washing liquid.
‘It’s my sandals …’ She glanced up at him when he didn’t seem in any hurry to let her go. His eyes were piercing, their light trained on hers, and his face was very still. ‘I … I’m not used to heels.’
‘Your hair smells of apple blossom.’ His voice was husky, preoccupied. ‘And it’s so silky and soft.’ His fingertips were against her lower ribs, his palms cupping her sides, and the warmth of his flesh had robbed Maisie of the ability to speak. She simply continued to gaze up at him and then shut her eyes as he nuzzled his chin into her hair, drawing her closer.
When he put his mouth to hers it was a light stroking of her lips at first, his hands moving to trace the contours of her body through the thin dress. His mouth began an exploration of her cheeks, her nose, her eyes, his kisses burningly quick and sensuous. His breath was warm against her skin and her flesh tingled where the heat of his lips and hands touched, her legs becoming fluid as she turned her face to capture his mouth again.
Like before, a multitude of new feelings were coursing through her and she was enchanted and bewitched by the power of his caresses, her body fitting into his like a natural jigsaw when he urged her even harder against the hard length of him. A slowly growing ache was seeping through every cell of her body as she gave herself up to the magic he was creating, coherent thought long since gone, her eyes closing again.
‘Maisie, Maisie.’ He breathed her name, his voice throaty and shaky, each kiss and caress hungrier and more intimate.
Somehow she found herself on the huge billowing bed, although she hadn’t been aware of being led there. The rich black silk smelt ever so faintly of his aftershave and it touched her skin like warm cream as she opened her eyes in bemused surprise. ‘Blaine?’ she said dazedly.
He had been about to peel the bodice of the dress away from the swollen fullness of her breasts, their engorged tips hard from the contact of his body. Now he froze, his heavily lashed glittering eyes opening wider. ‘Hell,’ he said.
He was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling under the thin shirt as he fought for control for long seconds. Then he slowly rose, walking across to the glass doors, which led on to the balcony and keeping his back to her as he said roughly, ‘You see? You see how it is with you? I cannot keep my hands off you.’
But she didn’t want him to, so what was the problem? Maisie sat up, trembling from head to toe and fumbling with her
