appreciate her, not seeming to realise that the time for laying the foundation for such bonds lay far behind them. They had missed that boat and Merry had learned to get by without a mother by replacing her with the more dependable Sybil.
‘You’re not keen,’ Angel gathered, shrewd dark golden eyes scanning her expressive troubled face. ‘Sybil made it sound like it was really important that you show up at some stage. I think she’s hoping you’ll mend fences with her sister.’
Merry shrugged jerkily. ‘I’ve tried before and it never worked. Sybil’s a peacemaker and wants everyone to be happy but I always annoy Natalie by saying or doing the wrong thing.’
‘Try giving her another chance,’ Angel urged, surprising her. ‘I don’t get on with my mother either, but then she doesn’t make any effort to get on with me. At least yours is willing to make the effort.’
‘And when it goes pear-shaped, she blames me every time,’ Merry said bitterly.
‘You can be an unforgiving little soul when people fail your high expectations,’ Angel murmured softly. ‘I know you haven’t forgiven me yet for running out on you.’
Her face froze. ‘What makes you think that?’
‘Be honest. I’m still on probation. You’re always waiting for me to do something dreadful and show my true colours,’ Angel told her impatiently. ‘You hold back. You watch everything you say and do and always give me the carefully sanitised version.’
Merry clashed in shock with hot dark golden eyes and recognised his exasperation. Guilty dismay pierced her and she was even more taken aback by how very clearly he saw through her pretences to her fearful desire to keep the peace. He lifted a hand and traced the full, soft curve of her lower lip as she caught it between her teeth.
‘I don’t mean to be like that,’ she admitted uncomfortably.
‘I’ll have to work that pessimistic streak out of you. By all means, set the bar high because I do rise to a challenge,’ Angel assured her. ‘But don’t drown me before I can even begin in low expectations.’
‘I don’t have low expectations,’ Merry protested breathlessly, flipping over to face him, her colour high.
Angel grasped her hand and spread her fingers low on his belly with a glittering smile of disagreement. ‘Go on, tell me you’re too tired or just not in the mood for once,’ he urged.
Her small fingers flexed against his sun-warmed skin and then pulled defiantly free to trace the furrow of silky hair that ran down from his navel to vanish beneath the waistband of his shorts. Heat uncoiled and spread low in her belly. ‘You don’t get it, do you?’ she whispered, flicking loose the first metal stud separating her from him. ‘No matter how tired, I can’t help always being in the mood for you,’ she confided unsteadily. ‘It’s not fake, it’s not me trying to please.’
She heard the startled catch of his expelled breath as she attacked the remaining studs, felt too the hardness of the arousal he couldn’t possibly hide from her and she thrilled at his unashamed need for her. She had assumed that initial enthusiasm would die a death once she was no longer a novelty in his bed but he hadn’t flagged in the slightest. She jerked the shorts down and reached for him.
Angel watched her in fascination. Here she was again taking him by surprise, defying his own expectations with a bold counter-attack, despite her inexperience. And he treasured her ability to disconcert him, revelling in the reality that she appeared to have more interest in his body than she had in the new wardrobe he had bought for her. She was quite unlike any other woman he had ever been with, gloriously unimpressed by his wealth and what he could buy her. Her shy fingers found him, stroked him and the sweet swell of shattering pleasure washed over him. His breath hissed out between his even white teeth. He lay back, giving her control without hesitation.
Merry licked the long, strong column of him, swiping with her tongue, eager to return the favour of his attention even if it meant she delivered a less than polished performance. The muscles on his abdomen rippled, his tension building, his hips rising as a sexy sound of reaction escaped his parted lips and she smiled, loving his responsiveness, his unexpected willingness to let her take charge for a change. She closed him between her lips and he groaned out loud, long fingers knotting into her hair, urging her on, controlling the rhythm.
‘Enough!’ Angel bit out abruptly, pulling her back and slotting her deftly under him, rearranging her for what he really wanted and needed.
Splayed beneath him starfish-mode, Merry cried out as he plunged straight into her, all ferocious urgency and unleashed passion, his lean hips rising and falling between her slender thighs to send jolt after jolt of hot, sweet pleasure surging in waves through her. Her excitement climbed exponentially and when he flipped her over onto her knees and slammed into her again and again while the ball of his thumb stroked against her, he sent her flying into an explosive orgasm that left her sobbing for breath and control in the aftermath.
‘No, that definitely wasn’t fake or you trying to please me,’ Angel murmured with roughened satisfaction in her ear as he gently tugged her hair back from her hot face and planted a lingering kiss there.
* * *
At some stage of the night, Angel shook her awake and her eyes flew open to focus on him in drowsy surprise. He was already fully dressed, sheathed in a sleek business suit, freshly shaven. He sank down on the side of the bed. ‘I’m heading back to London. There’s a stock-market crisis and I prefer to handle it on the spot with my staff around me. I’ve made arrangements for you to fly back first thing tomorrow morning...you need your sleep right now,’ he said, stroking her cheekbone with unexpected tenderness. ‘Once you’ve seen your aunt and your mother you can come and join me.’
Angel stared down at his wife, more than a little unnerved by the guilt sweeping him when he noticed the shadows below her eyes and the weary droop of her eyelids. He had been too demanding. He couldn’t get enough of her in or out of bed and she was so busy being the perfect wife and perfect mother that she wasn’t taking time out for her own needs. He was selfish, had always been selfish, was trying in fits and starts to be less selfish, but when he wanted her with him it was a challenge to defy his own need. Leaving her to sleep the night through was a sacrifice when he would sooner have had her by his side.
‘It drives me mad when you make decisions for me!’ Merry groaned in frustration. ‘I could have flown back with you.’
‘It wouldn’t be fair to take Elyssa out of bed in the middle of the night and you’re already tired out. I suggest that you leave her here with Sally unless you’re planning to stay with your family for a few days,’ Angel opined with an ebony brow rising in question on that score.
Merry sighed, unenthusiastic about the prospect of seeing her mother again. ‘Not very likely. After a couple of hours catching up I’ll probably be glad to escape,’ she forecast ruefully.
Angel sprang upright again, all lithe, sexy elegance and energy, holding her gaze like a live flame burning in the darkness. ‘And I’ll be glad to have you back,’ he declared with a flashing smile that tilted her heart inside her and made her senses hum.
Merry recalled that brief snatch of dialogue over coffee on the terrace the following morning. It was Sally’s day off and Elyssa had just gone upstairs for her nap, leaving her mother free to relax in the sunshine. She smoothed a hand down over the bright red sundress she wore, preventing it from creeping any further up her slender thighs because she didn’t want to flash the gardener engaged in trimming
