Contracted: A Wife For The Bedroom. Carol Marinelli

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Contracted: A Wife For The Bedroom - Carol Marinelli Bedded by Blackmail

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session ended fifteen minutes ago.’

      ‘Did it?’ Lazily he stretched and yawned, testing every inch of her patience as he languorously stood up and peered around the room, locating his jacket and rather unsteadily putting it on.

      ‘Is there any chance of a coffee?’

      ‘The urn’s been put away.’ Lily frowned at him. Gorgeous he may be, but those stunning eyes were clearly having trouble focusing. ‘Are you OK to drive?’ Lily checked; her natural assertion and training enabling her to deal confidently with this potentially difficult situation. ‘If you’ve been drinking, it might be wise to call a taxi.’

      ‘I don’t drink,’ Hunter answered.

      ‘At all?’

      ‘I tried it once and didn’t like it.’

      ‘You seem…’ Lily gave a small nervous swallow. If he hadn’t been drinking then he must have taken something—he was swaggering slightly as he walked.

      ‘If you have taken something then you really ought to think about—’

      ‘I’m not on drugs!’ He caught sight of her worried frown and actually smiled. ‘Unless you count an overdose of caffeine. I’m fine, just a bit jet-lagged.’

      ‘Jet-lagged?’

      ‘I flew in from New York this morning, or was it yesterday?’ he squinted down at his watch. ‘It’s still yesterday there.’

      ‘Have you slept since?’ Lily asked, worried now about him driving and feeling just a touch guilty for her earlier assumptions—he had every right to look a little the worse for wear.

      ‘Just then.’ He gestured to the room they’d left. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Tell me something,’ he asked suddenly. ‘Do you really believe that if you set your mind to something you can make it happen?’

      ‘To a point,’ Lily answered carefully, wondering where this was leading and realising that even though apparently asleep he’d taken in more of her session than she’d realised.

      ‘That anyone can better themselves.’

      ‘Of course.’ Lily answered immediately. ‘Unless, of course, you’re already perfect.’

      Her stab at sarcasm just drew a lazy smile from him. ‘Oh, I’m far from perfect, and I certainly don’t wake up in the morning and kiss the mirror and tell myself I’m beautiful and worth it.’

      He was teasing her and again Lily realised that he’d actually been listening all along.

      ‘I don’t actually kiss the mirror but, yes,’ Lily admitted, ‘I do encourage self-affirmation.’

      ‘Till true love comes along and then he can do it for you?’ He raised his eyebrows, mocking her with his words, but Lily stared right back and shook her head.

      ‘You have no idea what I believe, Hunter. I encourage self-love because I actually believe that the only relationship you can truly rely on is the one you have with yourself. A lot of people don’t want to hear it so I don’t say it. I hopefully get them to a point where they’re happy and confident in life and then the rest is up to them.’ She knew he didn’t quite get what she was saying, those knowing eyes narrowing slightly, a vertical crease in that perfect brow, and she told him her truth—revealed to him what she actually thought. ‘The truth is, I don’t actually believe in love.’

      ‘Really?’

      ‘Really.’ Lily nodded. ‘I believe in lust. I believe in romance. I believe in mutual respect. But I truly don’t believe there’s one love for everyone, one love that can last a lifetime.’

      ‘Amanda will be very disappointed,’ Hunter said.

      ‘Amanda’s not going to hear it from me,’ Lily retorted equally quickly, assuming the conversation was over and turning to head for the door. But Hunter lingered, the derisive note gone from his voice now.

      ‘What about someone with, say, disabilities?’ Hunter frowned. ‘I mean, suppose for instance that someone had been told they could never walk again. Are you saying that if they really set their mind to it…?’

      ‘I’m not offering miracles, Hunter,’ Lily answered softly, ending the verbal sparring, sensing for the first time genuine confusion behind his words, wondering if perhaps she was about to find out what really had bought Hunter there tonight. ‘If someone who’s been told they’ll never walk again is focusing solely on proving the doctors wrong, they’re missing out on a lot of other opportunities. Maybe it’s better to expend that energy on different goals…’

      ‘Give in, you mean?’

      ‘I’d prefer to call it acceptance.’

      ‘That’s how you make your living I guess.’ Hunter barbed response didn’t faze Lily this time—she knew his anger wasn’t aimed at her.

      ‘Just who are we talking about here, Hunter?’

      ‘No one.’ He flashed a brittle smile. ‘It’s just a hypothetical question. Right…’ For Hunter it was clearly conversation over. He held out several thousand dollars’ worth of the finest, most beautifully spun wool. ‘Do you want to borrow my jacket?’

      ‘Your jacket?’

      ‘It’s pouring outside,’ Hunter needlessly pointed out as they were having to raise there voices now to be heard above the driving rain that was bouncing off the roof.

      ‘I’ll be fine,’ Lily declined, smiling to herself at the thought of using such a beautiful garment as a temporary umbrella and filled with strange regret that once he stepped out into the night she’d never see him again, that whatever her group offered it wasn’t something he needed. Lily was filled with curiosity, too, as to why on earth he had come. He intrigued her. He was so utterly, utterly confident, so breathtakingly opinionated, and yet, on occasion—she looked at the proffered jacket—when Hunter wanted to be, he was disarmingly nice.

      ‘Take it,’ he offered again, his hand completely steady as he held it out to her, a curious half-smile on his face, but as she raised her hand to accept it suddenly everything changed. In that instant Lily knew, just knew that it was more than a jacket that Hunter was offering, knew from the way he was looking at her that the seemingly simple gesture had dangerous connotations and that stepping out into the night with him would be like stepping out with the devil himself. Brutally aware they were alone now, she felt like Snow White with the dwarfs all out at work, a tempting apple being thrust unexpectedly in her face. Telling herself she was crazy, that she was completely overreacting, she struggled to centre herself, to push away the ridiculous thoughts that were flooding her mind.

      ‘Lily?’ Softly he questioned her indecision but she couldn’t answer. His chest was at her eye level, the rate of his breathing matching her own, awareness, attraction swirling around her like a heavy fog, seeping into her clothes, her flesh, her mind.

      She could smell them—not just the mingling scent of their colognes, but the perilous undertones beneath, the thick lusty yet indefinable smell of arousal, and it made her feel dizzy, confused and more than a little claustrophobic.

      ‘No!’

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