One Hot Winter's Night (9 page)

She nodded. Tears pricked her eyes. She’d underestimated Sayed, had thought he would be angry at the thought of competition for her affection. She always thought the worst of men. It was nice to be surprised.

She collected her bag, and then Sayed took her to the main reception. The manager showed them into the meeting room next to his office. After a short wait, a security guard came in with a safety deposit box. He unlocked it, opened it up, and then stood back to let Sayed take out the wooden box inside.

Sayed opened the lid. She extracted the figurine lying on the velvet, set into foam. It was about four inches high, in the shape of a cat sitting upright, its front paws together primly before it. Cast in bronze, with gold ear- and nose-rings, it had the design of a winged scarab on its chest and head.

“It’s like the Gayer-Anderson cat,” she said, breathless with wonder. “That puts it in the Late Period, I’d say.”

Sayed nodded. “I agree.”

“It’s beautiful, Sayed.” She turned it in her hands. Not taking her eyes from it, she reached into her bodice and pulled out a cheque. They discussed a price, she haggled, and when they eventually agreed, she wrote in the amount and handed it to him, and he handed her the key to the safety deposit box.

He pocketed the cheque. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, Dr Livingstone.” He smiled. “Although not quite as pleasurable as it could have been.” His eyes twinkled. “And now, you must excuse me, my dear. I have a meeting in town. Please give my apologies to Alexander.” He kissed her on the cheek. Then he pulled back and studied her before lowering his lips to hers. She accepted the kiss, flushing slightly at the thought of the security guard watching them. She concentrated on the statue still in her hand, running her thumb gently over the cat as Sayed pressed his lips to hers.

Behind them, someone cleared their throat. She assumed it was the security guard, but as Sayed raised his head and turned, she saw Heath standing in the doorway, leaning against the post, arms crossed.

Chapter 11

Sayed looked at her, amused, before walking up to the other man and nodding. “Dr Roberts.”

“Dr Kamel.”

Sayed walked out.

She cast Heath an exasperated look. He studied her, unsmiling, then dropped his eyes to the figurine in her hand. “Is that it?” he asked. She nodded and he walked over to her. “May I?”

She glanced over at the watching security guard, whose face was impassive. Saying nothing, she passed it to Heath, who turned it in his hands, studying it. “It’s beautiful.”

She smiled. “It is, isn’t it?”

“It’s like the Gayer-Anderson cat.”

“I thought the same.”

He nodded. “Late Period, then?”

“Around 550BC, I thought.”

“Hmm.” He studied the winged scarab. “What did you pay for it?”

“I’m not telling you that!”

“Were you part of the deal?”

Her smile faded. “That’s none of your business.”

“No, you’re absolutely right.” For the first time, amusement lit his eyes. “I’d just like to know whether I need to order the chocolate sauce or not.”

She stared at him and then turned away, walking to the door. The busy foyer hummed with people, but Sayed had gone. Alexander had probably retired by now too, she thought.

What should she say? Her heart thumped. She remembered the way she’d searched for Heath on the dance floor, worried he’d left. She didn’t want to get involved emotionally. But if it was just about sex, there wasn’t a problem, was there? He’d told her,
no commitment, no risk. No strings attached.
How could that be dangerous?

She turned back to him. He’d placed the figurine back in the box, carefully slotting it into the foam under the watchful eye of the security guard. Closing the lid, he looked over at her. Their eyes met. She didn’t say anything, but he must have read her decision in her gaze. Slowly, he began to smile.

She nodded at the guard, and he locked the safety deposit box and took it from the room. Heath walked over to her, took her hand, and led her out into the foyer.

“Wait here.” He pointed to the floor. “I won’t be a minute.”

“Okay.”

He hesitated. “Promise you won’t move?”

Puzzled, she said, “I promise.”

He disappeared in the direction of the hotel shop. He was only gone about thirty seconds before he emerged again and came straight over to her, grabbing her hand. “Come on.”

She followed him to the lift, and the attendant pressed the button to open the doors. Heath leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “Your place or mine?”

Shivering, she looked up at him. She didn’t want Alexander knocking on her door halfway through. “Yours.”

He nodded and went into the lift, pulling her with him, and gave the attendant the floor number.

They stood on opposite sides of the lift, the attendant in the middle and slightly to the front. As the lift started to rise, Heath undid his bow tie and let it hang loose, wincing as he undid the tight top button of his crisp, white shirt. Cat watched him, feeling slightly faint at his James Bond impression. He winked at her, and she couldn’t stop her lips curving in a smile.

What had he dashed off to the shop for? He wasn’t holding anything, and whatever he’d bought had to be in his pocket. She glanced at it and then looked back up at him, raising her eyebrows.
What’s in there?
she mouthed.

He stared at her. To her surprise, he looked slightly alarmed. She looked back at the pocket curiously. Suddenly, however, he grinned, as if the penny had dropped. He shook his head slightly, glancing across at the attendant. She followed his gaze. The attendant had his eyes fixed politely on the door, so she looked back at Heath and then pointedly again at his pocket. Rolling his eyes, he showed her his purchase. It was a pack of condoms.

Twelve
, he mouthed, indicating the amount on the box before sliding it back into his pocket.

She widened her eyes, and he laughed, crossing his, making her giggle. Twelve orgasms? Surely even he didn’t have that much stamina!

The lift shuddered to a stop, and they walked out and along the corridor, stopping outside his room. She watched him take out his keycard and slide it through the slot, his silver hair falling forward over one eyebrow. He was absolutely gorgeous. Since Sweden, he’d been in her thoughts constantly, and the knowledge that she was about to get intimate with him made her quiver all over.

Further along the corridor, another, older couple walked along to their room, and Cat watched them holding hands as they talked, obviously completely at ease with each other. She couldn’t imagine being so comfortable with a member of the opposite sex, sharing her life with someone else. How would it feel to know that this wasn’t a one-off with Heath—that they were going home together and could do this every night?

Panic shot through her. She mustn’t think about forever and relationships and love. This was about passion and sex. Experimentation and exploration. She had to concentrate on the physical and forget about her emotions and feelings.

Heath winked at her as he opened the door and stepped back to let her in, and desire flooded her, a basic human urge to take him inside her and let passion overwhelm them.

Even before the door clicked shut, she pushed him against the wall, reaching up on her toes to kiss him, pressing herself up against him. He laughed and wrapped his arms around her, and ran his hands down her back to her hips, double-checking she wasn’t wearing any underwear.

“Nothing there but me,” she said, breathless. Kissing him again, she began to undo the buttons of his shirt. When she reached the bottom button, she ran her hands lightly up his ribcage, then back down to tug at the waistband of his trousers.

He caught her hands. “Whoa, slow down.”

“Oh no, not this time.” She didn’t want to be slow and romantic. She wanted it hot and quick. This was all about sex, nothing more, and once they were done, she could get on with her life and try to put him to the back of her mind.

She pulled him further into the bedroom, walking backward until she met a small chest of drawers with a bump. She’d forgotten how tall he was, though, and he knocked his head on the low lampshade hanging over them.

He rubbed his head. “Ouch.”

“Sorry.” Ignoring his raised eyebrow, she tried to undo his trousers again.

For the second time he caught her hand. “Catherine, there’s no rush…”

She glared at him. “Don’t call me that.” She pulled him toward her. “And there absolutely is a rush because I can’t wait. You’ve been torturing me all night, so you’ve only got yourself to blame.”

“Torturing you? By doing what?”

“Promising a woman multiple orgasms? Really, Heath.”

He nuzzled her neck. “I meant it. I’ve a whole box of condoms to use up.” He cupped her breast and stroked her nipple with his thumb through the silky material of her dress.

Desire flamed through her, and she sighed as he pressed kisses around her ear. He smelled heavenly, of aftershave, whisky, and divine warm male, and as she slipped a hand into his hair, she brushed the five o’clock shadow on his chin with her thumb. Did he know how much he was making her head spin?

She tried to undo his trousers again, and he moved her hand away. She swore under her breath. He was trying to control the pace, and she didn’t want him in control. She wanted him as wild as she felt.

She pulled him toward her again, forgetting about the lampshade until it nearly decapitated him.

“Oh, fuck me.” He pushed it aside.

“I’m trying,” she said indignantly, and he started laughing, which turned into an exclamation as she swept the items on the top of the chest of drawers onto the floor before lifting herself up onto them. She cut off his next words as she pulled him close for a kiss, threading her hands through his silver hair, tightening them. Opening her mouth, she thrust her tongue against his.

He tore his lips away, breathing heavily. “Seriously, girl, you’ve got to slow down or it’s not only my grey hair that’s going to be premature.”

She flicked open the button of his trousers and undid the zipper. “In that case you’d better get a move on.” She slid her hand inside. “Last time we did it your way—this time is for me.”

He pushed her hand away, his eyes hot and exasperated. “At least let me get comfortable.” Retrieving the packet of condoms from his pocket, he threw them on the surface next to her. Then, sliding off his jacket, he hung it on the back of the chair as he levered off first one shoe, then the other.

He rolled up his shirtsleeves a few times, and she realised he was warm, his hair damp around his temples. “Come on, Roberts, get a move on.” She grabbed him and pulled him toward her. He finally acquiesced, sliding his hands into her hair, kissing her deeply.

What had got into her? She’d never been like this before. But the memory of what they’d done before and how she’d felt had heated her to boiling point. She was so desperate for him she’d lost all her inhibitions, all her fears. And there was something about him that made her feel like it didn’t matter. Here, alone with him in the room, the same as in Sweden, she could say anything, do anything, and it would remain between them, private, isolated from the rest of her life.

She hitched up her dress and opened her legs wide so she could pull him close to her, laughing at the look on his face. “I told you I wasn’t wearing any underwear.”

“Catherine…”

“Don’t you want me,
Heathcliff
?” Suddenly worried he was going to turn her down, she moved his hand between her legs. He went to say something, then, finding her swollen and wet, ready for him, he slid his fingers into her, groaning. She leaned her head back, shaking her hair, breathless with desire. “That’s all you, Heath. I was like that the moment I saw you standing there.”

Chapter 12

That was it—she’d won—the metaphorical football thudding into the back of the net. His pupils dilated, and his breathing quickened.

“What’s with you not wanting foreplay?” he mumbled. He stroked her and slid his fingers inside her, groaning as she sighed. “It’s a fun part of the process.”

“Foreplay’s to get you in the mood and I’m already in the mood. Come on.”

He grabbed the packet of condoms, fumbling with the wrapping and cursing, then finally retrieved one and ripped it out of the packet, putting it on hurriedly. He pressed himself against her, but she wasn’t going to wait for him. She tightened her legs around him, and he swore and slid straight into her.

She arched her spine, tipping her head back with a gasp as he filled her up, stretched her, swelling inside her. He held her tightly and mumbled something. Exhaling, she lifted her head. “What?”

He shook his head. His eyes were so hot that if she’d been made of paper she would have sprung into flames. She made herself hold his gaze, although her behaviour had shocked and embarrassed her. But it was his fault. He’d driven her to this. Standing there with his crisp white shirt hanging open to show his muscled chest, still in his black pants and tie, his beautiful silver hair all ruffled, what was a girl to do?

He found her zip behind her back, undoing it halfway so her bodice loosened. Slipping a hand inside, he cupped her breast, his fingers warm as they brushed her nipple, sending an electric shock through her so everything clenched around him.

“Come on Heath,” she whispered. “Enough fancy business. Take me.”

Smiling wryly, he let his lips hover above hers. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured.

“You won’t. I…I want to know what it’s like.”

He looked puzzled. “What what’s like?”

“Last time was wonderful,” she admitted, “it was slow and gentle and tender, but I want to know how it feels to…” She couldn’t think how to put it in words. All she knew was that she wanted him, needed him, and she wanted it like she’d seen in the movies, hot and rough and fast.

As he looked deep into her eyes, she could see he finally understood what she wanted—not love and affection, but pure physical desire and arousal. Maybe he understood that she wanted to keep him at arm’s length—make it all about the body instead of the emotions. If so, he didn’t seem too concerned about it.