One Hot Winter's Night (16 page)

“I can see that,” she said wryly.

“For you.”

She took it from him and looked at it. “It’s…lovely. But I don’t quite understand. Is there a hidden meaning here?”

He frowned. “No. Alex told me you like penguins.”

She stared at him. Then she burst out laughing. “Oh, Heath, really! He meant Penguins, you know, the biscuits?”

Heath’s eyes widened. “Biscuits?”

“Oh, maybe you’ve not heard of them? They’re English. Rectangular biscuits, covered in chocolate.”

“But you don’t like chocolate.”

“Yes, that’s true, sort of—I don’t like chocolate-flavoured things like milk or ice cream or mousse, but I do have a thing for Penguins. I could eat a whole pack in one sitting.” She subsided into giggles. “Oh, your face is a picture!”

He glared at her with exasperation. “He knew damn well I wouldn’t have heard of them. He set me up.”

She pressed her lips together and held up the penguin toy. “It’s delightful, Heath, really, very thoughtful.”

“I went all over China looking for a damn penguin.”

She started laughing again, covering her mouth with her hand as he heaved a sigh. He looked so boyishly indignant, so embarrassed, her heart swelled with affection.

She reached out and caught his hand. “Come in.” Pulling him into the room, she gave the penguin a kiss on the beak and put it on the bedside table, then came over to him and put her hands on his chest. She reached up and tapped his glasses. “Do you wear these for effect?”

“No,” he said grumpily. “The jet lag made my eyes sore, and I couldn’t wear my lenses.” He heaved another sigh and glared at her as she giggled. “What?”

“Nothing.” Biting her lip, she removed the glasses carefully, placing them next to the penguin. “It was a very thoughtful gift, Mr Fox, and Ms Cat really appreciates it.”

He studied her sulkily. “I wanted to get you something you’d really like.”

She touched his cheek. “I love the penguin. And I didn’t throw the roses away, you know.”

He brightened visibly and then cast her a wary glance. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“No lies in the bedroom, Heath. I promise.” She pushed him gently until his back met the wall. Then she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.

For a moment he resisted, still sulky like a six-year-old, but as she ran her tongue over his lips and parted her own he sighed and relented, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her close. She slipped her hands into his beautiful hair, pressing against him, enjoying the smell of his aftershave, the taste of him.

Suddenly, however, she pulled back. “Oh. I just thought, do you have any…”

He met her gaze and smiled sheepishly. “Might have.” He fumbled in his pocket and produced the packet he’d bought in Cairo. “Eight left.”

She studied him, wondering whether to be amused or annoyed. “That was presumptuous.”

“Hopeful, more like.”

She tried not to smile. “You haven’t used any in the meantime?”

“As you observed previously, I don’t need them for a flute solo.”

“I meant—”

“I know what you meant,” he said gently. “And no, I haven’t been with anyone else.”

Smiling as joy flooded her, she parted his jacket, only then remembering he wore a three-piece suit. She pushed the jacket off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. “Oh my…”

“What?”

“A waistcoat. Mmm.”

He laughed. “You like?”

“Oh yeah. So sexy. That’s it, Mr Fox, I want you, right here, right now.”

He looked insulted. “You want the Fox? You don’t want me?”

“You don’t have to wear your glasses, if that’s what you’re asking.” He looked absolutely breath-taking in his grey waistcoat and trousers, the light blue shirt sleeves complete with silver cufflinks. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

“You like some very strange things.”

“Oh come on, you’ve got to admit waistcoats are sexy. Almost as sexy as cricket whites.”

“Cricket whites?” He grinned. “Very English. I don’t happen to own any of those. But I’m sure I can hire some for next time.”

“Next time?” She paused.

He tipped his head. “This is our third one-night stand. Aren’t you sensing a pattern?”

“I…” But whatever she was about to say went out of her head as she saw what was on the carpet, let out a scream, and jumped onto the bed.

Chapter 20

“What the…?” Heath followed her gaze and stared at the floor.

“Oh my God, get rid of it, please,” she begged.

He looked up at her, then back at the floor. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” The spider was tiny, and almost certainly more petrified than she was. He glanced back up at her. Maybe not, judging by how white she’d gone. She was really frightened.

“Please,” she beseeched him.

Hoping nobody had heard her scream and was currently phoning the police saying there was a rape occurring in the next room, he bent and scooped up the spider in his hand, took it outside, and let it go down the corridor.

When he came back in, she was still standing on the bed, her arms wrapped around her. He made sure he didn’t laugh, instead saying, “It’s okay, it’s gone.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. It set off faster than Usain Bolt.”

She swallowed. “I’m sorry. I know it’s ridiculous, but I hate them.”

He sighed, seeing the tears in her eyes, his humour fading as sympathy overrode it. “It’s not ridiculous. Phobias are irrational fears. Everyone has something. I don’t like heights much.” He walked up to the bed.

She studied him, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet, still reluctant to get down. “Thank you for getting rid of it,” she whispered. “I’ve known other men who would chase me with it, thinking it’s fun.”

He put his hands on his hips. “Tell me it’s Alexander. I’d be quite happy to go to his room and knock him flat.”

Her lips curved. “I can’t imagine you angry. You always look so calm.”

“I’m a boiling mass of lava inside. You have no idea.”

She ran her gaze very slowly down him, then back up. Desire flamed in her eyes. Her longing flamed his blood, sending it firing around his body, pooling in his groin. Her skin was pale, her blonde hair ruffled and tumbling around her shoulders. He’d missed her terribly, had thought about her almost non-stop, and he felt a huge wave of relief that she still desired him.

He gave her a mock-exasperated look. “What now?”

“You’re so gorgeous.”

“Are you still on about the vest?”

“Mmm, waistcoat, shirt, tie, cufflinks; the whole package.”

“You’re very easily pleased.”

She grinned. “So you keep telling me.” She tucked her fingers in the belt of her bathrobe and tugged it slightly. The robe parted, showing him a long, pale thigh and a strip of skin from her waist up to her neck.

“Okay,” he said as his erection nearly burst through the stitching on his pants, “time’s up. Your pace or mine?”

She laughed. “Mine.”

“Fair enough.” He reached out, grabbed her ankles and tugged, and she fell with a squeal, landing on her back on the bed. Laughing, he climbed on top of her, caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. He wanted her so badly it almost hurt.

She inhaled sharply and looked up at him, her silvery-green eyes wide. “You’re squishing me.”

“Oh, sorry.” He let her hands go and went to move off, but she put her arms around his waist, stopping him. “Don’t. That wasn’t a complaint. I like it.”

He smiled and propped himself up on his elbows. Her blonde hair was splayed out on the duvet like the rays of the sun, and there was a look in her eyes he hadn’t seen before. He couldn’t place it, couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but it wasn’t anything bad, that much he knew.

He spent a while kissing her, gradually nudging aside her bathrobe until she lay naked beneath him, then worked his way down her body, kissing and arousing her until her breathing quickened.

He was starting to get hot. Kneeling upright, he levered off his shoes and then began to unbutton his vest. She caught his hands, however. “Oh, no. I want you like that.” She was looking at him as if he was a cold glass of water and she was very, very thirsty.

“Can I at least take my tie off?”

“Nope.” She pushed him over, rolling so she sat astride him.

“Fair enough.” He put his hands behind his head, prepared to enjoy the view. “Girl on top. My favourite.”

She blushed, and he laughed.

“You’re so wicked,” she said breathlessly. “You love shocking me, don’t you?”

“Yep. You blush nicely.”

She wiggled her hips, pressing her soft mound against his hard length. “Can we really have sex now with me on top?”

“Absolutely. I intend to continue your sexual education and that was next on my list.”

Her lovely green eyes were sparkling, intense. “In that case, I’ve changed my mind.” She bent and kissed him. “I’m going to make love to you slowly, Roberts. And I’m going to watch you as I pleasure you, as you come inside me. Okay?”

“Okay,” he said, his heart racing. “I’m all yours, sweetheart.”

She slipped the bathrobe off her shoulders and threw it on the floor. He caught his breath at the beauty of her body, watching as she arched her back and shook her head so her hair brushed down her spine. Her skin was pale and flawless, her breasts full and heavy, the nipples soft and rosy pink. He was hard as a rock under her, and he knew she must be able to feel it. She looked at him, her eyes shimmering with that unidentifiable emotion again, puzzling him.

They studied each other for a moment. She reached out and brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes.

“It needs cutting,” he said. “I look scruffy.”

She didn’t say anything, just leaned forward and kissed him. He ran his hands down her back, then slid them around her ribcage, cupping her breasts, brushing her nipples so they hardened, and she inhaled. He played with them for a while as they kissed, and before long, she slid her hand into his pocket, pulling out the packet of condoms. Extracting one, she started tugging at his pants.

“You want them off?” he asked.

“Nope.” She was breathless with desire. “I want you just like this.”

His heart pounded. He’d never had a woman desire him so much before, unequivocally, openly, prepared to have him almost regardless of what he wanted. Not that he didn’t desire her back. Her passion, her insistence, was driving him crazy. There was no better aphrodisiac than being desired, he thought. He’d known it turned women on. But he’d never experienced it himself to this degree.

He helped her out, unzipping his pants, pulling down his boxers and releasing his erection. She rolled the condom on him and then manoeuver herself on top so the tip of him pressed into the wet, swollen part of her. Pushing herself down slowly, she welcomed him inside her, and they both gasped.

“I’ll never get used to this,” she said, eyes wide.

He smiled, but inside he was thinking
she’s saying there’ll be a next time. Hmm, progress.

He let her guide the pace, content to watch her as she rocked her hips so he slid in and out of her. He smiled as she ran her hands up his vest and down his arms, bringing his hands up to kiss them. Thank God he’d worn the suit! He wished she’d let him take the tie off though—he was getting hotter and hotter. He loosened it, then undid the top button, laughing as she rolled her eyes, still moving slowly and sensually on top of him. Everything he did seemed to be turning her on at that moment. He knew what it felt like, that sexual fever that swept over you so every little movement of your partner drove you mad—she did it to him all the time. He just couldn’t believe his luck that she felt the same way.

Catching his hands, she pinned them above his head, and he let her believe he couldn’t move and was completely at her mercy. She rode him slowly, watching him all the time, sliding herself up his erection to the tip, then pushing down until he was deep inside her, making him exhale in a rush each time. She was obviously enjoying the new position, liking the ability to control the pace. At one point she paused, moving her hips very slightly so she teased the tip of him, studying him with interest as he closed his eyes momentarily and then opened them to look at her with exasperation. Smiling, she pushed down hard, taking him inside to the hilt.

He groaned, his fingers flexing on hers. “Fuck.”

She smiled wickedly. “Yes, Heath.” And proceeded to do it again, several shallow strokes followed by a long, deep one, and then again, enjoying his tortured sighs as she teased him to the very brink of ecstasy.

“Catherine, please,” he begged eventually, desperate for release.

“What, sweetheart?” She looked at him innocently. “Is it not nice?”

He was tempted to wrestle her beneath him and take her hard and fast, but knew she was enjoying playing with him, and he didn’t want to ruin her fun. But he wasn’t going to last long if she carried on like that. He sighed helplessly. “Too nice. I’m only human, sweetheart.”

She tightened her fingers on his and kissed him. “You look so gorgeous all vulnerable like this. You drive me crazy, you know that?”

He was rapidly losing the ability to speak and could only groan again, exhaling loudly as she widened her thighs and took him so deep inside, he gave a long, loud sigh.

She was nearing her climax, he could tell by her breathing, which was a bit of luck because he was about to explode into her, and he wanted her to come first. Her gaze met his, and he winked at her. She groaned and closed her eyes, and then her muscles tightened around him. He watched the orgasm sweep over her, thinking there was nothing so beautiful in the world as a woman in the throes of pleasure, and Cat was the most beautiful woman of all, her hair tumbling around her shoulders, her full bottom lip caught between her teeth.

Only as her climax subsided did he give in to the pressure building inside him and feel the familiar tightening in his groin as he swelled and came inside her, and he knew she was watching him, as drunk on his pleasure as he was on hers.

He closed his eyes, revelling in the feeling of her warm around him, letting his breathing grow regular. She didn’t move and remained quiet, leaning over him, still holding his hands, and eventually he opened his eyes and focused on her.