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Authors: C. C. Gibbs

Tags: #Contemporary

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BOOK: Knight's Mistress
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He blamed the long two hours of watching her with other men for spurring his hair-trigger urgency because she’d no more than lowered her head over his dick, filled her mouth full, when he abruptly shoved her away. As she toppled backwards, he dived after her, crushed her into the carpet and plunged none too gently inside her.

She squealed.

He grunted.

And a moment later they both felt the same revelatory, unblemished wonder.

It was like reaching home after an endless journey.

Or finding safe haven from a storm.

Or perhaps finding love for those with an open mind.

Once ensconced in his own special paradise, Dominic’s ransacking assault gave way to more rational impulses and he turned his attention to pleasing the woman in his arms. He kissed her gently, moved in her with delicacy and finesse, supplied her with multiple orgasms before indulging himself.

Pleasing her because it pleased him.

Several hot and heavy orgasms later, her eyes at half mast, her voice husky, Kate whispered, ‘You’re worth every minute of trouble.’ They were back on the couch, the firelight flickering over their sweating bodies.

‘Ummm,’ he said agreeably, concentrating on the exact depth of penetration before she made that hot little gasp.

Like that.

She didn’t talk for some time, intent on the successive waves of heated ecstasy rolling through her body. Dominic wasn’t interested in talking at all. Then, utterly bewitched, nirvana within her grasp, she forgot what was expected of her, said on a soft, breathy exhalation, ‘I love you,’ and knew she’d made a mistake even before he put his hand over her mouth, silencing her.

Bending his head, Dominic replaced his hand with his mouth, kissed her softly, passionately, his pulse racing, wanting to give her something when he couldn’t give her that. And after the chaos stilled, he offered her a new
kind of pleasure. A particular speciality of his that required a patient dick, good thigh muscles and both his hands.

Very soon, Kate was panting again.

And life returned to normal.

A knock on the door momentarily arrested Dominic’s rhythm. A fraction of a second, no more, then he dismissed the interruption and resumed his activity.

‘Nick.’ Max’s voice outside the door was a hissed stage whisper.

‘Go away!’ Dominic shouted. ‘Sorry,’ he murmured as Kate flinched, then returned his attention to her rapidly peaking orgasm, intent on sharing the moment.

When his phone rang a few moments later, Dominic was semi-collapsed on top of Kate, his weight largely resting on his forearms, but not entirely – his climax hurricane-force powerful, his breathing still laboured.

He ignored the ‘Bring it on Home’ ring tone.

Two minutes later, when Sam Cooke’s voice again interrupted the heavy breathing in the room, Kate weakly murmured, ‘You should answer that.’

Dominic shook his head, his damp hair a cool flicker across Kate’s shoulder.

The third time his cell rang, he swore, mustered enough energy to move, pull the phone out of his jacket lying on the floor and glance at the display. ‘Oh, Jesus.’ Dropping a kiss on Kate’s forehead, he eased out of her warm body and with a long-suffering sigh, pushed himself up off the couch. ‘I have to take this,’ he muttered. Walking over to
the fireplace, he pushed answer and staring into the flames, put the phone to his ear.

‘Just wanted to let you know whom you’re pissing off,’ Max grumbled.

‘I’ll apologize tomorrow.’ Dominic spoke softly, preferring Kate not to hear. She worried about things she shouldn’t.

‘The president took your side, believed the business bullshit, but Antonia’s husband wasn’t in the mood to be placated when his wife took offence.’

‘Don’t worry about it. Tell Liv I’ll make up Antonia’s donation plus another couple mil. Are we good now?’

‘Except for that meeting tomorrow. In your current don’t-give-a-damn mood I didn’t want you to forget.’

‘I already did. Reschedule for Monday.’

‘Eight major players are flying in, for Christ’s sake.’

‘I’m aware of that. Reschedule.’

‘Jesus, Nick. Ricci for one is going to be seriously pissed. You know how touchy he is.’

‘I’m aware of Ricci’s temper. Last time. Reschedule. Monday at three. We’ll be on
The Glory Girl
till then.’ He hit end, not in the mood for more advice. He did what he did because he could. He didn’t want to think about: why now, why her? Or dissect every nuance to hell and back with Max or anyone. Right now, he just didn’t want these feelings to end.

Turning from the fire, he said, ‘How about a boat ride, baby? We’ll get away from all this crap. A little peace and
quiet, just us. Sound good?’

Kate looked up as he approached the couch, smiled. ‘Wherever you are sounds good to me.’

He bent down and kissed her. ‘That’s what I like to hear,’ he whispered, his breath warm on her lips. Standing upright, he said, ‘Let me make a few calls and we’re out of here.’

CHAPTER 20

The next three days were heaven or its equivalent in secular terms; bliss palpable, sensation off the charts.

They were alone on the ocean, or as alone as one could be on a ninety-three-foot vessel with a crew of ten and a full staff in the kitchen. But they rarely saw anyone, the sailors practically ghosts, Danny sharing a drink with them the first evening and then largely keeping out of sight. Dominic’s chef and sous chef supplied them with food on their erratic schedule without complaint. And when Kate and Dominic weren’t in Dominic’s stateroom screwing, they were wrapped in warm jackets and each other’s arms, lying in a hammock on the highest deck.

The stars at night filled the sky, seemed close enough to touch, dazzled, shimmered, amazed, made one conscious of the puniness of man.

The transience of human activity.

The great beauty of the world.

Dominic’s favourite song, ‘Bring it on Home’, was
usually playing softly in the background, the words casually fitting, sweetly appropriate, not the ‘I’m your slave’ part, Kate realistically noted, but all the rest.

‘See, I’m not the only man who wants to give a woman money and jewels,’ he whispered, humming along with the song, kissing her softly. ‘Or the only man who wants a woman like I want you.’

‘Or the only man who can do
other things
too,’ she said, miming the line from the song, arching up to kiss him again.

A slow-motion kiss that took the place of the million things she wanted to say to him and couldn’t because he didn’t want to hear them. About pragmatism and the sad ache of regret. About love and longing, about the shadow of fear that was so strong it was making her ears buzz. About the rising panic of losing him.

When she relaxed back into his arms once again, he gave her an odd look because her kiss had been different, baffling. Leaving him off balance. ‘Just so we’re clear,’ he said, his gaze even in the dark, sharp. ‘As long as I’m the only man doing them to you, we’re good.’

‘We’re good. Tell me why you like that song?’

The world that he hadn’t known had tipped, righted itself. The shark in him went back to sleep. He ignored that brief shift. ‘Dunno. I just always have. It hits something somewhere. All the layers of white noise vanish, the jagged edges smooth.’

She smiled. ‘You’re a romantic.’

‘Yeah, right. How about it’s just nice?’

‘Nice like me?’ she whispered, her smile close, sweet, tempting.

‘Not quite that nice, baby,’ he softly said, leaning over to brush a kiss down her nose. ‘Nothing’s that good.’

It was Sunday night, 3:38 glowing bright green on the bedside clock, when Kate suddenly woke. The fact that Dominic was gone must have wakened her. Anywhere else but in the middle of the ocean, she would have panicked, her unease about losing him having intensified as their holiday came to a close. She hadn’t been able to make up her mind whether to stay or go. Dominic had been patient, not pressing her to make a decision. But life without him would be unbearable. Living with him as difficult. A dilemma with no clear answer. How much of herself would she have to give up? How important was her emotional and professional independence? Was a handful of days enough to know someone? Particularly someone like Dominic who closed himself off from the world.

Confused, filled with doubt, she’d become increasingly clingy and weepy, like some lovesick fool.

Which in itself might be an answer.

Putting on a robe, she left the stateroom and, following the sound of a guitar, moved down the passageway.

Dominic was sitting with Danny high on the bow, both men dressed in jeans and T-shirts as though the weather was balmy when it wasn’t, both men playing guitars,
several empty beer bottles on the deck at their feet.
The Glory Girl
had dropped anchor in a cove at sunset, the air was still, the ocean like glass.

Dominic looked up, saw Kate standing in the doorway at the stern and stopped playing. He smiled and called out, ‘Would you like to come up?’

She didn’t answer.

‘I’ll come down then. How about that?’

She nodded.

Rising, he handed his guitar to Danny. ‘Later,’ he said. ‘Drink one for me.’ He walked across the deck, leaped down the steps to the deck below and strolled across to Kate. ‘Hi, baby, couldn’t sleep? Maybe I can help you out.’

He was extra sweet that night, like he’d been since they’d left Hong Kong, indulging her every whim, satisfying her desires with ravishment and delight, offering her pleasure with both tenderness and soul-stirring passion, exerting all his masterful sexual skills and talents to assuage her insatiable lust.

And his.

With morning, however, their holiday came to an end.

A bittersweet, melancholy time for Kate with the future uncertain.

His plans in place, Dominic viewed the day with delight, the beginning as it were of something uncommonly good. He was taking her with him.

After
The Glory Girl
docked at noon, they were driven to Dominic’s home on The Peak, and once lunch was over
they went upstairs to dress for the meeting that had been rescheduled the night of the charity event. Dominic insisted Kate accompany him.

‘You can sit out of the way. I just want to know you’re there.’ He smiled at her. ‘I’m going nuts, as you can see, so humour me. Do you want me to find you something to wear?’ She hadn’t followed him into his dressing room but was standing in the doorway.

‘I shouldn’t come, I’ll be in the way.’

‘Not in the least. It’s a big room. You can sit over by the windows. Or beside me if you wish,’ he added, smiling at her over his shoulder as he flipped through her clothes that had been hung in the wall of wardrobes. ‘I’d be pleased to have you sit beside me. How about this?’ He held up an ivory wool suit with a short military-style jacket belted in green lizard, a slim skirt and a pale green silk shell.

‘Is that new?’

‘I have no idea.’

She still hadn’t moved, other than the faint wrinkling of her brows. ‘Did you order more clothes for me?’

He smiled. ‘I might have. Look, I’d wrap you in sables if I could. Although, fur is still PC in most places outside the States, so if you’re interested, give me the word.’

‘Are you trying to change the subject?’

‘Desperately. This is my least favourite fight.’

‘Then you shouldn’t keep ignoring me,’ she grumbled.

‘I apologize,’ he said, moving toward her. ‘It’s just fun to dress you. You look good in everything,’ his voice softened
‘or nothing. Come on, give me a smile, put this on and let’s get this meeting over with. We’ve got better things to do.’

She sighed, But she was deep in love, only content when he was near. ‘Will it take long?’

‘I’ll see that it doesn’t. An hour at the most. Tomorrow we leave Hong Kong. You’re coming with me. Don’t give me any shit. You are. We can argue on the plane. But I need your game plan. You can key it in on my laptop at the meeting. Be demanding, then I won’t feel guilty about abducting you.’

‘Is that what you’re doing?’ Maybe that’s what she’d wanted all along; the decision taken out of her hands.

He ran his hand through his thick hair. ‘More or less. I figure if you can’t make up your mind, I’ll do it for you.’ A flashing grin. ‘Decision-making is one of my major skill-sets. Now do you want help or not?’

Not
, she decided, considering the time and her inability to resist him.

But she liked the quiet domesticity, the sense of togetherness; she liked watching him. He was businesslike in his dressing like he was with everything else, his movements swift and sure, his ability to transform himself from casual jeans into the full trappings of CEO power in a few short minutes, impressive.

Turning to her, he raised his brows. She was still in her jeans and sweater, although she was barefoot now. ‘We’re going to have to get you a maid. I won’t always be around
to dress you. What the hell have you been doing?’

‘Watching you.’

‘You’ve seen it all before, haven’t you?’ he said with male practicality that overlooked total infatuation and desperate longing.

‘I just like being with you.’

‘OK, that I understand. Try and get away, babe.’ He smiled. ‘And that’s a total threat. I’m keeping you within touching distance. Now and always.’ He held out his hand. ‘Give me that suit. I’ll help you.’

Before the meeting began, Dominic escorted Kate to a red leather sofa near the window, opened up his laptop, keyed in his password, brought up his email and said, ‘Write down all my directions, everything you want, everything you want me to do. I’ll leave the provisions as my header so I’ll see them every time I check my email.’ He smiled. ‘Someone like me. I’m going to have to be reminded. I haven’t had rules for a long time. Not that I’m complaining,’ he quickly said as she opened her mouth to speak. ‘Really, it’s no worries. I’m in a hundred percent.’

When the other executives arrived shortly after, he introduced Kate as an ace forensic accountant, explained that she’d been instrumental in recovering twenty million that had been stolen from him, that she was sitting in as an observer today.

BOOK: Knight's Mistress
13.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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