you to frighten that dog!’
Hauling her up into his arms, Apollo sat down on the bed. ‘Settle down,’ he instructed, pinning an arm round her to stop hers from flailing. ‘You’ve got my full attention.’
‘And now I don’t want it!’ Pixie yelled at him, so wound up with emotion she almost felt tearful over her inability to express herself.
‘I’m afraid you’re stuck with it,’ Apollo told her, dropping his arm to frame her face with big controlling hands. ‘I want you.’
‘No!’ Pixie snapped, striving to clamber off him again.
‘You want me too, you just won’t admit it,’ Apollo opined in frustration.
‘Do you ever listen to yourself? Marvel at the little megalomaniac remarks you make?’
His beautiful stubborn mouth claimed hers in a scorching kiss and her temperature rose like a rocket. She felt hot, she felt faint, she spread her hands against his shoulders and, meeting shirt fabric, slid her fingers beneath the parted edges to find warm brown skin. His tongue dipped and plunged and one of her hands delved into his luxuriant black hair. As she knelt over him, he pushed up her skirt and ground her hips down on him. Suddenly she was achingly aware of the long hard thrust of him behind his zip. Liquid warmth surged between her thighs and she gasped, her nipples swelling and tightening. Yanking down the zip on her top, Apollo cast it aside and bent her slender body back over one arm to suck at a pretty pouting nipple, a manoeuvre that dragged an agonised moan from low in her throat.
‘I’m not speaking to you!’ Pixie exclaimed in consternation.
‘Since when was speech required?’ Apollo groaned, reaching with difficulty below her skirt to rip at the fragile lace of her panties and then touch her with frighteningly knowing fingers in the exact spot she could least resist.
‘Apollo!’ Pixie muttered furiously, helpless in the grip of the sensations flooding her and blaming him for the fact.
He met her shaken eyes and he smiled with sudden brilliance. ‘I want you much more than I’ve ever wanted any other woman,’ he breathed in a raw and shaken undertone.
Oh, the combination of that smile and those tantalising words, it left Pixie dizzy and without her conscious volition her arms slid round his neck and she leant against him, momentarily hiding her face, her thoughts in a messy whirl. What’s wrong with me? Why do I still want him? What happened to the anger?
Lifting her head, she clashed with black-lashed gorgeous green and her heart gave a hop, skip and a jump as though he had hit a switch. And she told herself she couldn’t possibly be falling for him. No, she was too sensible and not at all the type who would build herself up knowing she would only be broken down by the end of the relationship. It was lust, wild, wicked lust, and it was merely hitting her harder because she was a late developer.
Apollo stroked her, teased her tingling core, reducing her defences to forgotten rubble until all she wanted, all she craved, was for the ravaging, greedy hunger to be sated. He tipped her back, removed the tight skirt to the accompaniment of a ripping sound that implied damage, unzipped and came down on her without even undressing. ‘Can’t wait,’ he growled. ‘Have to have you now.’
He pushed into her with scant ceremony but that hard, driving fullness was absolutely what her body needed and desired just then. A cry of compliance left her lips, followed by an ecstatic sigh of gratification when he moved. He changed position to hit her at another angle and she jerked and moaned with pleasure, hearing herself, inwardly cringing for herself but wanting him and that feeling so powerfully she couldn’t fight her own hunger. The waves of pleasure rolled faster and faster, the sensual power of him overwhelming. Her climax engulfed her like an avalanche driving all before it, emptying her of thought, breaking her down into a blissful bundle of pure satisfaction. In the aftermath she was weighted to the bed by Apollo and she decided she might never want to move again.
He scooped her up and slotted her into bed, kneeling over her to almost frantically wrench himself out of what remained of his clothing. That achieved, he crushed her mouth under his again. ‘Hope you’re not tired,’ he breathed in a driven undertone. ‘I think I could go all night…’
They were at peace again. Apollo told himself that that had been his ultimate goal but he already knew that what he craved most was the joy of sinking into her honeyed depths again. There was simply something about her, something that acted on him like an aphrodisiac. He wasn’t going to think about it. Why should he? What was the point? Fabulous sex didn’t need to be dissected: it simply was. Gritting his teeth, he slowly edged an arm round her and she didn’t need much of an invitation after that. In fact she scooted across the divide between them and clamped to the side of him like a landmine, doing all the work for him, he conceded in relief.
‘Women like hugs,’ Vito had told him as if it were some great secret known only to the precious few. Apollo didn’t like hugging women but he believed he could learn to pretend that he did…particularly if it encouraged sex, he reflected with a sudden wolfish grin. Be nice, Holly had told him without much apparent hope that he could possibly deliver on that suggestion.
But when it came to strategy, Apollo was very much on a level with Vito in business. He had misjudged his audience when he’d waited for Pixie to throw a jealous scene at the club, had actually felt pretty offended when she’d failed to deliver on that front but he wouldn’t make that mistake again. No, he would listen and observe and learn until their marriage became much more civilised and both of them got what they wanted out of the arrangement. That was the rational approach and designed to provide the most desirable result, he reasoned with satisfaction.
While Apollo was deliberating with what he believed to be perfect rationality, Pixie was feeling as irrational as a bunch of dandelion seeds left to blow hither and thither in the wind. She had no guidance, no foundation stone for the strong feelings that assailed her when Apollo, apparently quite naturally, wrapped both arms tightly around her. He made her feel safe. He made her feel as if he cared. He made her feel as if she was indeed special. And even though the common sense in her hind brain was already sneering that she was nothing in comparison with the leggy, glamorous underwear models of the type he favoured, she was happy for the first time in a long time, happy instead of just getting through the day…
She decided she wasn’t going to waste energy worrying or picking herself apart with self-loathing criticisms. He was right on one thing: she wanted him. And if their marriage was to work on any level they had to have that chemistry and use it accordingly. A lean hand smoothed down her spine and she quivered and stopped thinking altogether.
* * *
Apollo had already laid the trail and Hector was becoming an old hand at following treat trails.
The scruffy little animal crept out from his roofed hidey hole of a basket and snuffled up the treats, inching half under Apollo’s desk while Apollo pretended to ignore his progress. Every week the little terrier dared to move a little closer to the male who terrified him—not that Apollo took that personally. Hector was uniformly terrified of every man that came into his vicinity and considerably more trusting of the female sex. He had first bonded with Pixie in the vet surgery where his injuries had been tended. Pixie had worked next door and, being friendly with the veterinary nurse, had often visited the homeless dogs in their cages. Although Pixie had worked and did not have a garden, the vet had deemed her a good prospective owner because Hector had taken to her immediately.
At least, though, Hector was rather more predictable than Pixie, Apollo conceded with a frown.
He
