Seduction on the Cards (14 page)

Kerri dropped to her knees, pushed him down, and straddled him.

“We can indeed,” she said, watching in fascination as he continued to lengthen and harden. “I bet you’ve got some really complicated hydraulics down there.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Thank you for a lovely day, Alex.”

She had to concentrate fiercely to keep the tremors out of her voice as they walked back along the marina together.  

A lovely day? Hell no—the best day of her life. The day when she finally felt she’d become a woman. The day when she’d had at least eight orgasms and maybe more, because Alex had followed pleasure with pleasure so intently she’d had no idea when one stopped and the next started.

The day she’d hardly dare to look back on, because no others like it would follow.

Tomorrow she wouldn’t feel special, or cosseted or loved. Not loved in the sense of one-man-one-woman-forever, she hastened to tell herself, but at least complimented and gently teased...stroked and admired and given masculine attention like never before. 

It was seven o’clock—almost dusk. Lights glowed on cars and boats, and in the windows of the exclusive houses of Mt Victoria, the big hill looming above them. In some, extravagantly decorated Christmas trees shone and twinkled. 

Her beautiful day was at an end.

Alex felt her long shuddering sigh. Once again he had two bags in one arm so he could keep the other around her as she wobbled over the uneven planks. And once again he couldn’t resist sliding his thumb up to caress the underside of her breast.

She was one fantastic package, he had to admit. A beauty with brains. A captivating combination of worldly wisdom and little-girl-lost. And so responsive sexually he was exhausted and exhilarated and completely out of condoms.

“Tired?” he asked.

“Sad.” She glanced up at him in the fading light. “I knew it was only for today, Alex, and now it’s over.” She shrugged. “So I’m sad, because it was nice.”

He pulled her closer. Yes, it had been amazing for him too, because he was such a worker, so driven and focused.  

For once, his whole day had been unpredictable. She’d teased him and enchanted him, snapped and purred in equal measure, and kept him guessing even as she writhed in ecstasy beneath him.  

At home in Paris his girls were sophisticated, businesslike, respectful of his wealth and willing to forget his background because of it. Kerri didn’t seem to give a damn—about his mother or his money.

Suddenly it felt imperative he had a few more hours of her quirky company.

“We can make it last a little longer,
cherie
. Come back with me. We’ll order dinner. Some nice wine.”

“No,” she said with a sharp shake of her head. “It’ll be bad enough saying goodbye to you as it is. I can just about manage to do it now. If I have to psych myself up all over again later on, it’ll kill me.” 

So she preferred to part immediately instead of being with him any longer? Not the way women treated him as a rule. The sting of rejection burned fast and hot. Alex had never felt so out of control and lustfully male before. Never felt quite such a burn, a sizzle, a deep unrest.

God, it felt amazing!

He’d been looking forward to making love to her one last time in a proper bed, instead of on the squabs on the floor, or bent over the galley counter, or squashed together, laughing and slippery, in the boat’s tiny shower cubicle.  

He gave a slow nod of acquiescence and pulled her even more firmly against his side. She was probably right. The day had been magic, but it was complete in itself and not the start of anything more. Heaven forbid he should allow himself to fall for a girl who gambled as easily as she breathed. A girl who had no sense of responsibility, and who therefore reminded him most uncomfortably of his mother.

They reached the black SUV, and he beeped it unlocked. 

To fill the silence he fiddled with the radio until a burst of old Beatles surrounded them.

“Lucy in the Sky,” Kerri said, waving one hand as though she was conducting an orchestra. “My Daddy loved this, but Grandpa thought it was very weird. Druggy, he said.”

“Some people felt so,” Alex agreed.

“Not me. I think it was just a dream.” She snapped her seatbelt closed and started to sing along in a husky contralto. “Picture yourself on a boat on the harbor...” 

“River,” Alex corrected.

“No—my version’s the harbor. Wellington harbor, summertime, you taking off your T-shirt when I thought it would just be your watch or a shoe.”

Alex grinned as he reversed out of the half-empty marina parking lot.

She was more open than anyone he’d ever met. If something sparked across her brain it instantly popped out between her pretty lips. 

“You taking off your shorts,” he countered. “How did we get started on strip poker?”

Kerri shrugged in the half-dark. “Lord knows. But it passed the time, didn’t it.”

Alex came down to earth with a thud. 

She sounds so casual? Passed the time? Is that all it meant to her?

He gunned the big motor and they surged off, until they were caught up in the frantic bustle of Courtenay Place.  

“I’m amazed how many cafes and bars and cinemas you have here,” he said, turning the radio down so he could talk again. “I came for a walk on Wednesday night. For once I had no stuffy dinner to attend. I grabbed a kebab and ate it at a sidewalk table and just watched the crowds.” 

In truth he’d enjoyed being on his own for a while, away from social obligations and business pressures. He’d filled the rest of the evening with an exciting but ultimately unrewarding movie, but didn’t bother telling Kerri that.  

Her big brown eyes lit up with unholy fire and she said, “You should see the people here over the ‘Sevens’ weekend. First weekend of February. We get players and fans from all over the world—including France, because it’s a big deal for rugby teams. Everyone dresses up—as nuns or nurses, or animals or movie characters, and boy, do they party...”

“I can imagine,” he agreed, watching three girls walking arm-in-arm, laughing raucously and weaving from side-to-side.

Not wanting company on Wednesday, he’d returned to his expensive anonymous rent-by-the-week apartment and caught up on emails until past midnight. Tonight now looked like being a repeat performance.

Not such an attractive proposition.

He drove on through the busy traffic.

“Straight through here and then turn left,” Kerri said, pointing. He followed her directions back to the old house in Kelburn where she and Sarah shared the ground floor, knowing he’d soon have to let her go because it was what she’d asked him to do.

But when he pulled to a halt outside, he switched off the ignition and barreled out double-fast to walk her up the steps to the blue front door, just to have a few more seconds, one last kiss.

Kerri pushed her key into the lock.

“
Au revoir
, Kerri,” he murmured, touching his fingers to her temples and running his hands down past her dark caramel eyes, along her clenched jaw, until he had her face cupped and could feel her soft lips under the pads of his thumbs.

He bent and replaced them with his mouth, just as Sarah pulled the door open and said, “I heard your key.”

He sprang away like a guilty school-boy.

“Ooops, sorry,” she said, laughing. “I’ve made curry.  Didn’t know if it would be just me, or both of you, or one of you so I made heaps in case.”

He felt Kerri exhale. She turned and followed Sarah. And so did he.

Kerri sighed as they entered the house together.

Damn you, Sarah, I know you’re only being your usual kind self but I really didn’t want anything like this to happen.

She motioned Alex to the settee, escaped to her room for a few moments, tossed her gym-bag on the bed and pulled the contents out.  

She hadn’t put on the bikini. 

The suntan lotion had never seen the light of day.  

The book was never opened.  

The pack of cards had been used for something a lot more fun than Solitaire.

The beach-towel had certainly been handy, but the painkillers weren’t needed. Sure, the water in the harbor had glittered and danced in the sunlight, but she’d seen very little of it—not enough to be dazzled. 

Alex had captured her whole attention, and from now on Kerri suspected she would have the headache from hell trying to get him out of her brain.  

She tossed the pills into her top drawer and slammed it shut. Fat lot of use they’d be with a hurt the size of the whole Pacific Ocean.

Somewhere during the day the flirting had been replaced with something much more intense. She closed her eyes as she pictured Alex shirtless and beautiful as they played poker. Remembered him covered in soapsuds as they shared the shower after a workout more strenuous than anything a gym had to offer.   

Bet he wasn’t affected at all. Bet he does this all the time with those slinky showgirls. Bet I was only a bit of fun, and far too willing...

Suddenly despondent, she opened the book and retrieved her little sketch of him. She’d hidden it away between the pages when he hadn’t been looking, wanting a tangible reminder of their day together. Somehow, pointing her phone and taking photos hadn’t felt appropriate.

There he lay, relaxed and at peace, yet still with the air of a predator about him. Those sexy eyes...that potent masculine body. She knew the power contained in those long strong muscles, and had secretly gloried in being swung up into his arms, carried as though she weighed nothing.

The ride home had been hell, but she’d steeled herself to say goodbye. Now Sarah had made the situation intolerable by issuing her cheery invitation to stay for dinner. Well, nothing for it but to put on a brave face and get through…

She slipped out of her skimpy shorts and pulled on Monday night’s suit-of-armor jeans. There—let him try and break through her defenses now!

Somehow the time passed. Alex retrieved the chilly-bin from the SUV. They polished off Gaston’s delicious leftovers, and picked at the rest of the grapes as they sipped coffee.

“I was telling Alex about the Sevens,” Kerri said a little desperately when a gap in the conversation started to lengthen too far.

“Do you play rugby?” Sarah asked.

“The year France hosted the Rugby World Cup every Frenchman seemed to play rugby. But no—just a little at school for me.”

“It’s not
real
rugby. It’s seven players a side, seven minutes in each direction. They have heaps of teams and dozens of games, but the fun is the dressing-up and partying, really.”

“We went as newspapers last year,” Kerri muttered.

“Photos, photos!” Sarah exclaimed, as Alex raised his eyebrows in query. She sprang up and collected an album from one of the sideboard drawers. “There are lots more on my laptop, but I put the best ones in here. Kerri designed the costumes last time.”

“Newspapers?” he asked.

“Yes, look,” Sarah said, flipping through the pages. She stopped and pointed. A group of six or seven people in frizzy red nylon wigs played to the camera, arms held out sideways. Each wore a panel of white fabric that had been hand-lettered with black felt pen to look like a newspaper page. 

“We used lots of bits from the ‘howler headline log’ we keep at work. “All Backs Come From Behind” was my favorite,” Sarah said. “And just black tights and white sneakers—cheap and easy. People stopped us to read the costumes everywhere we went.” 

Alex shook his head in disbelief. Grown adults were prepared to look so strange in public?

“We were black and white and read all over,” Sarah chirped. “Get it? We went as fairies the year before,” she added, pointing to the appropriate photos. “We hired all the fairy costumes. Clive and David looked
ridiculous
.”

Alex could see why. A strappy satin bodice, gauzy froufrou skirt and wings didn’t do a lot for a guy with studious black-framed spectacles and ginger-furred legs.

“But look at Kerri,” Sarah continued, pointing to a tiny doll in pale turquoise. “She was so pretty that day. And you made your own wings, didn’t you, Kerri-babes?” 

Kerri nodded. The big wings had looked fantastic—and were a huge nuisance in the grandstand.

“I had to take them off to sit down,” she said, grimacing at the memory.

Sarah flipped a few more pages over. Alex glimpsed a group of tigers—mostly stripes of body paint and toy masks as far as he could see. Pirates galore. Teddy bears.

“I bet they were too hot,” Kerri said, pointing at the bears.

Four fake nuns hitched up their long habits to display wedding garters. Cowboys and cowgirls pointed plastic revolvers. A very strange-looking Elvis clutched a violin.

“Easier than having to carry a guitar all day, I suppose” Sarah said.

“And this is to go to rugby?” Alex asked.

“No—we didn’t even bother with tickets last time,” Kerri said. “Just went round lots of bars and enjoyed the city-wide party.”

“And—this year?” He hardly dared ask.

“We’re going as sausages.”

He closed his eyes.

The time drifted past eleven. Sarah had made more coffee all round, waved Alex and Kerri goodnight, and departed to bed with hers. They sipped in edgy silence.

He glanced at his watch yet again.  

“Kerri, I must go. I fly out very early. Thank-you so much for coming with me today.”

“Again and again and again,” she said in a small voice.

He pursed his lips and then couldn’t stop the grin.

“As you say.” He set his empty mug down and turned towards her. “I’ll be interested to read your item about Gaston.”

“I’m sure he’ll send you a copy.”

He nodded, understanding she was withdrawing.  

It hurt.

“So, this time it
is
goodbye.” He reached across and took her mug. Set it down beside his. Kissed her on one cheek, then the other, and brushed his lips across hers.

“That’s not quite the French regulation way.”