sex was so inextricably linked with orgasm it was as if she were talking in a foreign language. He tried to figure it out—was she not physically capable of coming?
Actually he didn’t believe that. By the pool he’d felt her shaking in his arms, he’d felt the hunger in her mouth, felt the flood of desire between her legs when he’d touched her there. Physically she’d been all systems go.
But at that point she’d literally leapt out of his arms.
So it was her head that couldn’t let go.
Of course, she was a complete control freak. It made sense. That was her job all over—keeping everything in its place and perfect. But at the same time it didn’t make sense. The night he’d met her she’d appeared the absolute image of a hedonist. A beautiful young woman out for fun and frolics and seemingly assured of success should she want it. But it seemed she didn’t want it—at least not on a level that she couldn’t control. Did she pleasure her lovers rather than let them pleasure her? Because that wasn’t right. For him sex was all about mutual delight and exploration. Pleasure for both—give and take.
Women didn’t have total ownership rights on curiosity. Right now it was eating Carter alive. And so was the challenge. How could it not be a challenge? Because this woman could feel it. He could feel her—trembling, all hot and aching. He knew how much she wanted him. So how did he help her let go?
He swallowed again. Like anything it came down to the details. She was so sensitive and maybe it scared her. So he was going to have to take it easy.
She was watching him with a worried look. ‘I’ve probably put you off now.’
And the sweetheart looked as if she utterly regretted that.
He grinned. She didn’t need to worry—she would get every ounce of what he had to give. ‘Not at all.’ Oh, hell, no, now he was all the more desperate to strip her and, oh, so slowly warm her up.
But first what they both needed was a little more time. Just a very little. ‘You know we haven’t eaten,’ he said, tucking his shirt back in. ‘Come on, I’ll make something.’
She looked surprised.
‘You hadn’t missed dinner?’ Now he thought about it, he was starving.
She shook her head. ‘Haven’t had a chance to think about it.’
Carter smiled inside again. That was because she’d been thinking about him. The key was to get her to stop thinking.
He led the way to the kitchen. ‘You don’t mind a cold dinner?’
Penny was feeling so hot—from embarrassment—that cold sounded wonderful. In fact she’d dive deep into a pool right now if she could. By the time she’d straightened her clothes Carter was pouring the wine—crisp and cool enough to make condensation form on the glass.
He pointed to the stool on the far side of the bench. ‘Sit there and talk to me.’
About what? She’d so killed the moment and she was gutted because she did want to have him. Ugh. She should run away, go dancing and forget everything. ‘Are you making any progress with figuring out Mason’s problem?’
She was reduced to talking work.
All he did was shrug as he pulled a bowl from the fridge. An assortment of salad greens. He deftly sliced tomato, cucumber, feta and tossed the chunks in, adding a few olives from a tin after. Her mouth watered; she loved a summer salad.
He got a pack from the fridge and forked smoked salmon from it onto plates. Then he got a wooden board and from a brown paper bag slid a loaf of round, artisan bread. Her stomach actually rumbled as he sliced into the loaf. He sent her a wicked look.
‘Don’t tell me you baked the bread,’ she teased to cover it.
‘Italian bakery down the road.’ He winked. ‘Looks good, huh?’
It looked divine. In five minutes he’d fixed the most delicious dinner and she was seriously impressed. ‘You always eat this healthily?’
‘I work long hours, I’m responsible for a lot of people’s jobs. I need to keep fit so I can perform one hundred per cent.’
He picked up both plates. ‘Come on, we’ll go out onto the balcony. You bring the salad.’
He pushed the bifolding doors wide open The sun was still high and hot but an aerial sail shaded the table and the view of the harbour was incredible. Pity she was too on edge to be able to enjoy it properly.
‘How come it’s you helping Mason? Not one of your employees?’ From all the conference calls and faxes he’d been getting she knew he didn’t usually spend his days on a detailed case analysis like this. He was the boss of more than one entity.
‘He trusts me.’ Carter lifted his shoulders. ‘And he’s an old friend. And I wanted a break anyway.’
‘So this is a holiday for you?’
‘It’s a nice little change.’
‘But you’re still in contact with the Melbourne office all the time.’
He shrugged again. ‘I’m responsible for a lot.’
‘And you love it.’
‘Sure. I like my career. I work hard to succeed.’
Yeah, she’d noticed that about him.
The cool wine refreshed and soothed and now she’d begun to eat she realised just how hungry she was. It was only another five minutes and she’d finished.
He looked at her plate and looked pleased. ‘Better?’
‘Much.’
He went inside and pushed buttons on the iPod dock in the lounge and then came back to the doorway, offering his hand to her. ‘Come on, don’t you like dancing?’
‘To a much faster beat than this.’ But she stood anyway.
He smiled as he drew her closer. ‘You’ve got to learn to relax, Penny.’
The slow jazzy music made the mood sultry and they were barely swaying. His shirt was unbuttoned, so was part of hers, so skin touched. This kind of dancing wasn’t freeing, it was torture. She was uncomfortably hot again, her breathing jagged. A half-glass of wine couldn’t be blamed for her light-headedness, and she’d just eaten so it wasn’t low blood-sugar levels either.
It was him. All him.
And she wanted to feel him wild inside her.
She reached up on tiptoe, deliberately brushing her breasts against his chest. His hand moved instantly to hold her hips tight against his.
She sighed deeply. ‘Can we just get on with it?’
‘So impatient, Penny.’ Laughter warmed his voice. ‘Come on.’
He danced her down the little hall to the master
