“Don’t be. She is never far from my thoughts, therefore never far from me.” It was something Magnus had once heard his father say about his deceased wife. Magnus had never repeated it, but he realized in that moment that it was also how he felt.
“That’s beautiful, and how I feel about my mother’s second husband.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
“Funny thing about small planes—sound carries better than you’d think.”
She froze beside him. “You heard my conversation with Eric.”
“We all heard it.”
She closed her eyes as if remembering all she’d said. “Oh my God. You should have said something.”
He shrugged. “What you were saying was too important to be interrupted. Except perhaps the last part about how we met. I don’t believe you have my accent down when you do your impression of me.”
She opened her eyes, looking pained. “And all your men were there. I’m so sorry.”
He tipped her chin upward and ran his thumb lightly over her parted lips. “Stop apologizing all the time. It’s not necessary. Do I look upset?”
She shook her head slightly, and desire once again lit her eyes. He much preferred that expression. “But your men—”
“Would not dare to have an opinion regarding a moment from my private life.” He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her waist. “And I must admit, the story becomes more entertaining each time you retell it.” People usually presented themselves in whatever way they thought would be most advantageous to them. Rachelle was refreshingly real.
She smiled then, relaxing against him. “Every time I think I know what to expect from you, you surprise me again.”
“I could easily say the same about you. You are many things, Rachelle, but boring is not one of them.”
She ran her hand over his chest in a light caress. “You might not say that if you knew me. My life back home was a quiet one. I taught six-year-olds all day, hit the gym most evenings, and spent a lot of time with my family. Before this trip, I hadn’t even left the United States.”
“And yet you came alone.”
“Yes.”
He kissed her then but kept it gentle and in control. She was a remarkable woman, and there was no need to rush. When she came to his bed, he wanted it to be completely without fear or regret. She melted against him, and his need for her challenged his decision to go slowly. Reluctantly he broke off the kiss while he still had the strength to.
They stood in each other’s arms, breathing heavily. He remembered how boldly he’d spoken to her the first time he’d met her. It hadn’t seemed to scare her. Despite being alone with him in a secluded garden in his country, she didn’t appear intimidated by him at all. She might not consider herself daring, but she had a natural strength.
A man could make a partner of such a woman.
He frowned at where his thoughts wandered. A night with her—even a prolonged affair—was all he was looking for.
Wasn’t it?
He stepped back and offered her his arm again while chastising himself for bringing her to his mother’s favorite weekend escape rather than a more appropriate and less personal hotel. Rachelle was the first woman he’d brought here, and he didn’t like what that implied.
Rather than taking his arm again, she searched his face. “What’s wrong?” Rachelle Westerly surprised him. There were few in his daily orbit who took the time to read him. Her ability to read his disposition was disconcerting.
“Nothing.”
She hugged her arms to her stomach. “Now that’s an answer I no longer accept. It never mattered how bad things got in my family, they always said things were fine. They weren’t, though. If there’s a problem, just say it. I’d rather dig in and try to fix something than pretend it’s not there.”
Okay. “I like you.”
“That’s the problem?”
His shoulders tensed. He wasn’t one who opened up to people easily. “I enjoy your company more than I thought I would.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It is for me. If I have any intention beyond bedding you, I’m doing this wrong. You’re currently a joke in the media. If it gets out that I’ve also made you my lover, it’ll be another hit to your reputation, even though substantial damage has been done already.”
“Wow, okay, remember when I asked for honesty? Feel free to deliver it in a way that’s less of a kick to the groin.”
Her turn of phrase amused, but the situation did not. “I care about your public image.”
“Because?”
He frowned again. I should have just kept kissing her. What am I doing here? “Because I don’t want to see you hurt by your affiliation with me.”
She smiled then. “You’re concerned about me. Despite all that tough talk, you’re a worrier, just like me.”
“We could not be less alike.”
She lowered her lashes, then gazed up at him from beneath them. “You’re a big softie, aren’t you?”
“No.”
“You don’t have to be embarrassed about it. It’s actually really sexy.”
“Really?” That piqued his interest.
“Definitely. I’ll admit that when I first met you, I thought you were attractive. I mean, all the ‘I will have you’ stuff was sexy, but I would never have slept with that man.”
“No?”
“No, all he cared about was himself. Then you told me about Finn, and I saw how hard you fought to help my brother, and I thought, Now there’s a real man.” She went up on her tiptoes and brushed her lips across his.
Nothing had prepared him for the tailspin Rachelle could send him in with one brief kiss that was both sweet and bold—just like she was. He groaned and gave himself over to the pleasure of her touch, of the way his body burned for hers.
What started gentle became more frenzied as the kiss deepened. She arched against him and moved back and forth against his bulging cock in an intimate, full-body caress. He slid one hand up beneath the back of her shirt, across her bare back, then down to cup her delicious ass. They ground against each other, and Magnus wanted nothing more than to free his cock right there in the garden and bury it deep inside her.
Not since his teenage years had he felt close to coming from foreplay alone. He needed to know that she was just as ready. He kissed his way down her neck and shifted her sideways just enough so he could slide a hand down the front of her shorts. With ease that came from experience, he slid beneath her panties as well and settled his thumb on her clit while his middle finger thrust into her wet sex. She gasped and gripped his shoulders tighter. He withdrew his finger, then thrust it in again, deeper. Withdrew it and went deeper still. “Oh yes,” she whispered. “God, yes.”
He took her mouth with his again, claiming her there as well. She met his passion with a hunger of her own that fanned the wildness in him. When her hands rubbed over his cock, he fought not to explode. He increased the rhythm of his thumb across her clit until she was writhing and moaning against him. She was so wet, so ready for his taking, but he held himself back.
Soon.
This time he wanted her to be the one out of control. He pushed her shirt up and unclipped her bra, freeing those pert breasts for his mouth. When he circled one of her nipples with his tongue, she jutted against his fingers. Some women could orgasm from nipple play alone. He loved the idea that soon he would know all her pleasure points and how to use each to drive her wild.
He used his teeth to gently tug on her nipple while thrusting a second finger into her. She clenched around his fingers and cried out. When she shuddered and sagged in his arms, he withdrew his hand and brought it to his mouth. While she watched, he tasted her juices.
She watched and licked her bottom lip. He held her with one arm while using his other hand to unbutton his trousers. She took his lead and eagerly freed him, wrapping one hand around his cock while cupping his balls with her other hand.