it was like a knife-edge of sensation running all the way down her body to between her legs.
And then, while his hand was busy stimulating one erogenous zone, she became aware of how her negligée had ridden up. He was sliding a hair-roughened thigh between her legs, opening her up, nudging past her resistance, and then she could feel the blatant hardness of his arousal there, against her, only a mere breath away from being inside, where she longed for fulfilment. She moved her bottom against him. ‘Caleb…’
‘What…what is it?’ His breath was driving her insane. She wanted…she wanted…
‘What do you want? This?’
He moved upwards and she could feel the head of him nudge against her moistness. Her muscles quivered and contracted in anticipation. This was going so fast but, in the heady half sleep limbo land, it was all Maggie could do not to turn and give herself completely.
‘Yes…oh, yes.’ She bit her lip in an effort not to plead any more.
And then, in a moment so quick and brutal she didn’t know which way was up, Caleb was out of the bed and standing there with a towel slung around his waist, hiding the extent of his erection, though she could still feel the size of it, imagine the length of it. His face was stamped with the lines that told her how hard it had been for him to stop. Waves of censure reached out to envelop her.
Confusion showed on her face. Her voice breathless, she said, ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing, Maggie, that a signed contract won’t solve.’
He came down and rested on his hands over her, taking in her flushed face, dilated pupils, her still aroused body. ‘When we come together it’ll be like this, Maggie, so I can watch your face as you give yourself to me.’
So much for her grand announcements last night. Within moments she’d been ready to forget everything—her precious vulnerability swept aside by the burning ache that still pounded in her blood.
She shrank back against the pillows, more humiliated than she had been even that night in London. For at least that time she hadn’t tasted the total bliss he could evoke. They hadn’t gone so far that she couldn’t stop herself. But…he, she remembered uncomfortably, had been in a similar state to now. This time, however, he was the one calling a halt. Demonstrating her lack of control over him.
He was binding a silken thread around her, so tight that she knew she’d never be free of it. Even after he was finished with her. Pain made her lash out, her words clumsily inarticulate. ‘Wasn’t whoever’s bed you warmed last night not enough?’
He stopped in the act of straightening up from the bed, his body lithe and supple and heart-stoppingly beautiful. The thought of him with another woman was making her insides fizz with anger. Along with the ache that permeated every bone, betraying how much she wanted him.
He looked at her coldly. ‘I, unlike you, have a moral code. I don’t share myself around. Aren’t you lucky, Maggie?’ He gave a short, mirthless laugh. ‘I’m all yours. For now. And I won’t be made to wait again or, trust me, the agreement will be revoked and I will take a new mistress.’
A rush of elation surged through her—so he hadn’t slept with another woman. She was heedless to the incongruity of how happy that made her feel—despite the evidence of their shaky truce in tatters around them, despite the ache, the humiliation, Maggie was suddenly absurdly happy. He flicked her a dismissive glance before turning away. ‘We leave for Dublin in an hour.’
JOHN, Caleb’s driver, was waiting with the car at the small private airport. Maggie was glad of the distraction of having someone else to talk to as Caleb stood outside the car taking a phone call for a few minutes. In the course of their conversation, Maggie discovered that John had lost his entire family in a tragic accident some ten years previously. He had been working for someone else in the company, but when Caleb had heard the news he’d made John his own driver and now brought him everywhere.
‘To tell the truth, love, I don’t know what I would have done. He kept me going and there were times…’ He stopped and his eyes grew moist. Maggie stretched a hand out to his shoulder in sympathy.
‘Sorry, love, it’s still…’He recovered and cast a glance out of the car. ‘He’s a good man. He’ll look after you. Loyal to a fault, I’d say. Far too easy on some of them that’s tried to put one over on him…’
Caleb slipped back into the car at that moment and John winked at Maggie, lightening the atmosphere, before turning around to drive them into town. She went over his words. Well, Caleb certainly had a fan there. She couldn’t fault his behaviour with the man. But she didn’t want to know nice things about him; she wanted pettishly for everyone to hate him, to confirm that he was cynical and ruthless.
His voice broke into her thoughts. ‘John, drop me off at the office—I have some meetings lined up for the afternoon—then bring Maggie home.’
In the car outside his offices, he turned to Maggie. ‘I’ll be back about seven and I’ll bring the contract. So why don’t you burn some water and we can celebrate later?’
Maggie flushed under his pointed gaze that wouldn’t let her escape, knowing John could hear their conversation. ‘Fine.’
When he was gone, she sat back and breathed properly for the first time that day. Her mind and stomach churned. At least she had a few hours to get control of herself. When they pulled up outside the apartment building, Maggie took her bag from John and watched as he drove away with a cheery wave.
She took a spin out to see her mother that afternoon, to confirm for herself that she was all right. She was so ecstatic and happy and relaxed that Maggie felt real relief for the first time. She was almost a changed woman; she even looked different from the last time Maggie had seen her. Younger. This was her proof, her motivation. She was doing the right thing. She knew it. She was heartened for the first time in days as she drove back into town.
Back in the apartment, she decided she couldn’t be bothered lying about her ability to cook and made a wild mushroom risotto. Cooking always relaxed her and she needed all the help she could get. Having reluctantly skipped over an old pair of comfy jeans and plain shirt, she figured she’d better dress as he’d expect. So she stood now in the kitchen and felt ridiculously uncomfortable in a silk shirt and light tweed trousers. Her hair, despite her having tried to tame it back into a tidy bun, was already tousled at the nape of her neck. When Caleb walked in, the carpet muffling his entrance, that was what he saw.
Maggie was stirring something in a pot, bending low to smell, a small frown on her face. Then she straightened and started chopping spring onions for a salad. The dexterity with which she chopped told him, as a keen cook himself, that she was no novice. He ignored the strange ache in his chest just from looking at her.
‘The burnt water smells surprisingly appetising,’ he drawled dryly.
She jumped and whirled around. But quickly regained her composure. He could see that there was tension in the lines of her body that hadn’t been there seconds before and bizarrely hated the fact that he had done that.
‘Yes…well, I didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of thinking you had a live-in cook as well as a mistress. But, as it happens,
