The Ice Seduction (Ice Romance) (20 page)

65

‘Your
bedroom
?’ I yell. ‘Oh no, Patrick. No way.’

But Patrick igno
res me, leading me back to the West Wing.

He’s still holding my hand. Tight.

‘I need somewhere private to make these calls,’ says Patrick, bounding along at such a pace that I’m tripping and stumbling trying to keep up with him.

‘There must be some other place
—’

‘
There isn’t. This castle has eyes and ears. Haven’t you realized that by now?’

‘Patrick. Wait … no. Patrick …’ I protest, as he drags me along. But before I know it, he’s opened a solid oak door and bundled me through it.

He slams the door behind us, and I’m left dazed, looking around.

Oh holy Jesus.
I’m in Patrick Mansfield’s bedroom.

How in god’s name did I end up here? How?

It’s a beautiful room, with the same great big long windows and sweeping red velvet drapes that I’ve seen all over this castle. The huge double bed is made up with burgundy red sheets and the headboard is, I think, made of rosewood. It looks antique, like all the other furniture.

Everything is totally neat and tidy – the complete opposite of my
room. I see well-polished boots lined up under a row of combat jackets. There’s a shelf of army war memoirs, the books all neatly arranged, their spines perfect and uncracked.

On one wall is a dart
board with three darts neatly positioned in the bull’s-eye.

I notice a framed picture on the wall of Patrick and his brother in army fatigues, their arms around each other.

It’s huge, this room, and I see a door leading to a walk-in cupboard beyond. I can see far enough in there to know it’s full of rifles of all different shapes and sizes.

‘Tak
e a seat,’ Patrick says, leading me to an antique armchair upholstered in green leather. It’s a battered-looking chair, but very comfortable.

‘You pl
ay darts?’ I ask.

‘Whenever I can’t shoot
outside,’ says Patrick, stalking to his dresser. He picks up a silver Samsung and frowns at the screen.

‘Who are you calling?’ I ask.

‘Someone
who can find out things. If anything has happened to Bertie, I’ll kill whoever is responsible.’

His jaw locks tight
as he clamps the phone to his ear, pacing back and forth.

‘Hello,’ Patrick
barks. ‘Simon? Yes. If I message you some names, can you get them checked out for me? Good. Yes, straight away.’

He
hangs up and begins typing out a message.

‘Who are you going to have checked out?’ I ask.

‘Anyone Bertie stayed with before he came to this castle,’ says Patrick. ‘Including my father.’

66

‘Thank you,’ I say, as Patrick tosses the phone back onto his dresser. ‘Truly. I’m glad this is being looked in to. It’s important. And whatever happened to Bertie, at least I know he’s safe here.’

‘If anyone has so much as put
a finger on my nephew,’ says Patrick, pacing back and forth. ‘I’ll kill them myself …’

‘I feel th
e same way,’ I say. ‘And I’m glad I came to you. I nearly didn’t … considering everything that’s happened between us.’

‘I’m glad
too,’ says Patrick, stopping his pacing.

I let out a sigh that I think I’ve been holding since I first met Bertie. ‘It feels so good to have told you
. Oh god, that’s such a weight off my shoulders.’

‘I’m glad,’ says Patrick, throwing me a half smile.
‘You’re still here. Isn’t this around about the time you run away from me?’

I can’t help but smile
back. ‘Yes. I guess I should go,’ I say, standing up.

Wow. I feel so much l
ighter now Patrick knows about Bertie. Like I can relax for the first time in days.

‘W
here?’

‘
Back to my bedroom. It’s weird me being in here. Don’t you think?’

‘I think it’s far from weird,’ says Patrick. ‘I think it’s the most natural thing in the world.’

‘For the nanny to be in the boss’s bedroom?’

Patrick’s face clouds over. ‘When are you going to let that go? I don’t see you as the nanny. I don’t see you as anything othe
r than … a girl who’s on my mind every minute of every day.’

‘Patrick, you
have to stop this. I’ll only end up getting hurt when you cast me aside, and that’s not fair.’

‘Cast you as
ide?’ Patrick frowns. ‘Is that what you think I’d do?’

‘Eventually, yes,’ I gulp. ‘Because even if you do m
ean what you say right now, there’ll come a time when you see me for what I am. Just some poor girl from London who is totally out of place here.’

‘You still feel out of place?’

I think about that. ‘I … did. I guess less so now.’

‘
Because I’ve never seen anyone fit this place better,’ says Patrick. ‘And I’ve never met a girl who fits me as well as you do.’

‘Patrick
,’ I say. ‘Please. Not now. I can’t take this now.’

‘Then surrender,
’ says Patrick, taking a step closer to me.

‘No. P
atrick. Please. I can’t …’

‘Can’t what?’

‘I can’t let myself fall for you,’ I blurt out.

‘What are you so afraid of?’

‘That … that I won’t be able to handle the pain when it all goes wrong.’

‘Who says anything will go wrong?’

‘I do.’

‘I won’t let it. Believe me.’

I shake my head. ‘How can it not?’ I say, my voice all high and teary. ‘The two of us … why couldn’t I feel this way about some guy down Camden Market? Why did it have to be you?’

‘You’re scared,’ says Patrick, moving closer and taking my hands. His eyes burn into mine.

‘Yes,’ I admit.

‘Do you know what you’re scared of?’

I tug my eyes away from his, looking at the thistle pattern on the carpet. ‘Of … I don’t know. Everything.’

‘Of me?’

‘Especially of you. I’m afraid you’ll hurt me so badly that I’ll never get over it.’

‘I would never hurt you, Seraphina.’

‘You might—’

‘No. No, I won’t
.’ He tilts my chin up, and I’m caught once again.

‘Spend the night with me
.’

I look away. ‘I can’t. You know I can’t.’

Patrick pulls my body close to his. ‘Haven’t you realized by now? I’m not a man who takes no for an answer. Especially when I know your heart is saying yes.’

‘Please Patrick
—’

‘Stay with me
tonight.’

I look
up into his deep blue-green eyes, and I feel … like I belong. Even if this can’t last, I can’t fight it any more. Not right now.

Patrick’s eyes burn into mine, and he pulls me tight against his body, his hand gripping my backside.

I moan as his fingers dig into my skin, and my hand falls from his face and onto his firm shoulder.

His
lips come down onto mine, kissing me with a passion and intensity that leaves me barely standing.

I retu
rn his kiss, running my hand into his hair, gripping and pulling, wanting him, all of him.

He moans
and slides both hands under my top. Breaking away from my lips for a moment, he pulls my top up and over my head. Then he flings it to one side.

He pulls me against
his bare chest again and unfastens my bra with one hand, slipping it from my arms and flinging it to the ground.

Then he spins me around and clasps his hands over my breasts, pressing his lips against
the back of my neck with such force that I let out a gasp. As his lips work around my neck, his hands squeeze and rub my breasts.

His touch is so expert. So perfect. And so in control. He knows exactly what he’s doing and the pleasure he’s giving.

I moan as his lips send tingles down my spine.

Then
Patrick scoops me up and carries me in his arms, throwing me roughly on the bed.

67

Oh.

M
asterfully, he pulls my leggings clean from my legs. He rolls me onto my stomach and I lay, face down, trying to get my breathing under control.

‘
Get on your knees and turn around.’

I hesita
te.

‘Are you ordering
me around?’ I say.

‘Yes
,’ says Patrick, pulling me up onto my haunches and spinning me to face him. He smiles, showing a dimple in one cheek.

I find myself facing his crotch, and let out a little
gasp at the size of him, pressing against his trousers.

His fingers glide into my hair and then tighten, holding my head still.

Oh god. After all the tension of what’s been going on with Bertie … I’m just desperate for a release.

My fingers pull
at Patrick’s sweat pant cord, wanting to free him and to see him, all of him. When I finally work the cord free, I hear Patrick’s breathing quicken.

‘
Sera
,’ he murmurs, as my fingers brush the soft cotton around his crotch.

I let my hand str
oke back and forth, wanting to feel him.

I glance up and see Patrick’s eyes are closed, and his
jaw is tight.

‘What now?’ I breathe, letting my
fingers run around.

I see a tiny smile on Patrick’s lips, but his eyes stay closed.

‘You want an order? Take my cock out and put it in your mouth.’

‘You’
re the boss.’

‘Don’t joke
,’ says Patrick through gritted teeth, as I tug down his sweat pants.

‘Why not?’ I ask, reaching into his boxer shorts and pulling him free.

Wow
. I gawk at the size of him up close. I mean, just wow. Not only is he huge, but he’s also perfect. Smooth skin, beautiful shape and hard as ice.

‘Right now, I’m not your boss,
’ says Patrick.

‘Yes you are
,’ I murmur, taking him in my hand and stroking slowly up and down. ‘That’s the whole problem.’

‘
God
,’ Patrick moans again, his eyes still closed, his head tilting back. ‘I would never … I don’t see you that way, Seraphina. This isn’t what this is all about – this isn’t some fucked up power trip.’

‘So what is it about then? Since you’re so keen to put me in line.’

Patrick’s eyes snap open and he grabs my wrist, his chest rising and falling. ‘Because that’s just how things work with me. And why you’re a perfect fit.’

‘Am I indeed
?’ I murmur, loving the feeling of his fingers on my wrist. ‘Who are you to decide that?’

‘Someone who knows you better than you know yourself
,’ says Patrick. He pushes me down onto the bed, forcing both my arms high above my head.

I wiggle against the duvet as his weight rests on top of me.

‘I want to touch you again,’ I say.

‘Tough.
It’s my turn now.’

Patrick holds both my wrists with one
strong, large hand, then slides his free hand between my legs.

Two muscular fingers disappear
inside of me, and I tense up as they hit me in all the right places.

‘Oh god,’ I moan, as his fingers slide up and down.

Patrick speeds up, pushing higher and harder, his hand smacking the skin between my legs in a glorious, sharp way that makes me twitch and moan and wriggle around.

With the other hand he keeps my arms pinned down, so all I
can do is struggle against him, my legs kicking around as the pleasure gets more and more intense.

Patrick pushes deep, deep inside me, pressing his whole hand between my legs until I give out a yelp of pleasure.

Then he draws back from me.

‘Stay exactly where you are,’ he instructs. ‘Don’t move.’

‘And what if I do?’ I reply, enjoying the delicious achy warmth between my legs.

‘Then I’ll have to
put you in line.’

‘That doesn’t scare me, Patrick Mansfield.’

I move a little to the left.

‘You, Seraphina Harper
, are asking for trouble.’

‘Am I?
’ I squirm against the bedclothes.

‘Absolutely fuck
ing right.’

Patrick goes to a rail of hunting gear, and whips free a long, brown belt with a stag-head buckle.

He
runs the leather across his fingers, then pulls the belt tight so it makes a snapping sound. ‘But I am going to teach you how to follow orders.’

‘Good luck with that,’ I say, wiggling against the bedclothes. ‘Many have tried and failed.’

Patrick throws the belt over his shoulder and comes over to the bed. Then he grabs my wrists and pulls me up towards the headboard, so my body goes skidding up the bed sheets.

‘Oh!’ I say, as he
wraps the belt around my wrists and then through a wooden rung on the headboard. He pulls the belt tight with a whooshing sound that makes my legs pull together, and fastens the buckle.

I squirm and kick around, pulling against the leather.

‘Is this what you wanted all along, Patrick?’ I ask, as he prowls around the bed. ‘Me all bound and helpless?’

‘It’s not about you being helpless,’ he growls. ‘It’s about me being in charge. Which is what you like. Even if you can’t admit it.’

I laugh. ‘I can admit plenty.’

‘Then admit this is turning you on.’

‘Okay. I admit it. But will you admit that this can’t last? That the nanny and the boss together is fucked up?’

‘D
on’t mention the B word again. It isn’t funny.’

‘Maybe not to you. But it’s pretty funny to me.
I mean, this is hardly how I expected this placement to turn out. Me, tied up in the boss’s bedroom.’

‘
I told you not to say that word again.’

‘You mean the word boss
?’ I say innocently.

‘You asked for it,’ says Patrick, going to his rifle store. He returns with a white hunting han
dkerchief – the kind you wave when you’re telling other hunters you’re surrendering.

Patrick strides
to the bed and ties the handkerchief around my mouth, pulling a tight knot behind my head.

‘Mmmph!’ I say
indignantly, squirming back and forth.

Patrick laughs. ‘
I should have thought of gagging you before. It would have saved me a lot of headaches.’

I glare at him. But my stupid body has
gone all hot and tingly as my teeth bite into the handkerchief.

Bloody sexist caveman! And yet I ache for him
between my legs. Why is my body letting me down like this?

Patrick
moves his face close to me and strokes my cheek. ‘I’ll take the gag off and untie you if you want me to,’ he says. ‘This is just a game.’

My eyes narrow some more
.

God!

The bastard. This is sexy as hell. He knows full well how much this is turning me on.