The Pleasure King's Bride (7 page)

She immediately sat up in a commanding position, her face wickedly gleeful as she challenged him. “Then you lie down, Jared. Just you lie there and let me do what I want.”

“Am I allowed to touch?” he asked teasingly as he settled his head on a pillow, assuming a totally relaxed position.

She cocked her head on one side, considering the question. “No. Better not. You’ll distract me and take over and this is my turn.”

He was amused and intrigued by what
her turn
would entail.

It very quickly became the most incredibly erotic experience of his life. She touched him as though she was sensually absorbing all that he was—his arms, his body, his legs, every part of him—her soft, beguiling fingerpads making their own paths and patterns, emitting a tingling magic, creating a sensational artistry focused entirely on him.

Wherever she kissed him it was with a kind of fascinated concentration on his response, wanting to know what excited, what pleasured, and clearly delighting in arousing him again. She knelt between his legs, lightly running her nails up and down the taut muscles of his thighs, watching the effect on him, the stiffening swell growing to full hardness. She reached out and wrapped her fingers around him, then gently cupped him with her other hand, squeezing as she bent over and took him in her mouth, rhythmically inciting the most intense and exquisite pleasure.

Her hair was spread all around him—his stomach, groin, thighs—silkily feathering his highly sensitised flesh as she deepened and accelerated the flow of excitement. Apart from the exquisite stimulation she was imparting, the visual pleasure of her was enthralling, lifting the whole experience to levels of intensity that blew Jared’s mind. He heard himself calling her name in a wild crescendo of need.

Instantly she lifted herself and moved into straddling him. Then she was taking him inside her, lowering herself slowly, feeling and making him feel the long slide into blissful chaos as he climaxed in a series of violent tremors. Her beautiful breasts brushed his chest as she leaned over, and the soft curtain of her hair enveloped them as she loved his mouth with long, avid kisses.

Jared lost all track of the questions he’d wanted answered about Christabel. For the rest of the night they wallowed in a feast of sensuality, moving around each other, exploring and discovering, indulging an ever-increasing appetite for every possible intimacy, entranced by their connections, stimulated by their almost constant capacity for arousal, their desire to
feel
all that could be felt between them.

They didn’t talk. Speech seemed irrelevant. There was a deeper, more elemental communion happening between them, a bonding that was more satisfying, more fulfilling than words could possibly express. This was Jared’s instinctive belief, and his instincts had not been wrong about Christabel. She
was
the woman for him, just as certainly as he was the man for her.

When languor finally overtook them, energy completely spent, Jared drifted into sleep, never doubting that the woman he held in his arms would still be there when he stirred again. It didn’t occur to him that when the night ended, Christabel would leave him. What she had stipulated earlier was forgotten, overlaid by a sense of unbreakable togetherness.

He simply didn’t comprehend—couldn’t comprehend—had no way of even beginning to comprehend—that for her, it had to remain...

Only one night.

Something
felt wrong.

Jared was barely conscious, swimming out of deep sleep, yet he was instinctively reaching out, expecting, wanting and...there was only empty space!

It jolted him awake. Daylight hit his eyes. He was alone in his bed. Had Christabel gone to check on her daughter? How late in the morning was it?

His gaze darted to the clock radio on the bedside table, already thinking it was set to switch on at seven o’clock. It showed twelve minutes short of that. Still early, but the child was probably awake. Christabel would be very conscious of Alicia waking in a strange house, probably wanting to find her mother. Maybe she had come looking.

Jared frowned at that thought, then dismissed it. Like most old people, Vikki Chan slept lightly. She would have heard Alicia stirring, would have reassured the child, looked after her. It had to be Christabel’s strong protective instincts making her act.

He rolled out of bed, wanting to be with her, wanting to forge a good relationship with her daughter, as well. He was striding towards his en suite bathroom for a quick shower and shave when the thought struck him—Christabel would not have gone to her daughter naked. They’d left their clothes on the veranda. Had she retrieved them?

He turned towards the French doors, then paused, noticing his white shorts and shirt draped over the armrest of the chair nearest the doors. Christabel had tidied up. He walked over to the chair and checked his shirt pocket looking for the G-string he’d tucked into it last night. The pocket was empty. As empty as his bed.

An unease slid into his mind...an unease he couldn’t shake. He strode to his wardrobe, took out a
yukata,
quickly wrapped himself in the handy cotton robe, and with his heart hammering, took the swiftest route through the house to the shell room.

No Christabel.

No Alicia.

He made straight for the kitchen. Vikki Chan was measuring coffee grounds into the percolator. “When did they leave?” he asked, not bothering with any preamble. The need to know was too urgent, too vitally important.

“At first light,” she answered, looking at him with eyes that understood his frustration.

“Did you speak to her?’’

“No. I’d left the door to the shell room open so I could hear the child if she woke. She didn’t wake. Her mother came and took her at first light. I heard the Cherokee she drives start up and leave.”

Jared expelled a long hissing breath through his teeth.

“It was not my place to stop her, Jared.”

He shook his head, stating the bleak truth, “She would not have been stopped anyway.”

The night was over at dawn. That was when she’d left him. First light. Nothing had changed for her. Nothing!

“It’s Monday, Jared. A school day for the child,” Vikki reminded him.

“If that was all Christabel had on her mind, she would have told me.”

Vikki nodded, not arguing the case, accepting he knew better. “She carries many burdens, that one. She does not know what freedom is.”

She did last night. For a little while. The need to hold onto that had Jared clenching his hands.

“You cannot fight her sense of responsibility, Jared,” Vikki quietly advised. “You must lift it from her shoulders if you are to win.”

“I don’t know what
it
is! If I did...”

“She did not talk?”

“Not of that. In all the time I’ve known her...”

“She remains one step removed,” Vikki finished for him. “Yes, I saw that last night. I was wrong about her playing woman games with you. She wants you but...”

“But what?” Jared pushed as she paused, frowning.

She shrugged. “It is for you to find out. All I know is this. The goodness in the child comes from the mother. There is a strong wall of integrity in Christabel Valdez which will not be broken. I think she does, and will always do, what she believes is right.”

It was
right
for them to be together. How could she turn her back on what they had shared last night? How could she let it go?

Maybe she hadn’t. It
was
a school day. And she was supposed to come in to the office this morning. He’d arranged the meeting with her before going to Hong Kong, ostensibly to show her photographs of the special jewellery display—her designs for the Picard pearls—and hopefully discuss a further set of designs, a career with him.

She’d vetoed any idea of a career yesterday afternoon but there were still the photographs. He hadn’t brought them out last night. If Christabel was still planning to see him at work once Alicia was off at school...he could be misinterpreting her departure at first light.

He gave himself a mental shake. Last night had meant so much to him, it had been a shock finding Christabel gone. Nevertheless, there was no need to go overboard on that action as yet. Vikki Chan was a shrewd judge of character. Christabel would do what she believed was right, bypassing any fuss over taking Alicia home, keeping the child uninvolved in their relationship until more was sorted out between them.

“I’m blowing this out of proportion,” he muttered.

Vikki raised her eyebrows queryingly.

He gave her an ironic smile. “You’re right. It is a school day. And a workday for me.”

“Breakfast as usual?”

“Yes. Thank you.” He turned to go, heading for the bathroom again.

“Your mother comes back today,” Vikki called after him.

“So she does,” he tossed back without pausing.

He didn’t care what his mother knew about Christabel. She and Vikki could speculate all they liked about the relationship. He knew his mother would keep her own counsel unless he asked for it and he had no intention of asking for it.

Vikki hadn’t told him anything he hadn’t known. His mother had no better information. The only person who could tell him what he needed to know was Christabel herself, and it was well past time she started talking to him about the burdens she carried.

The long shadow cast by her dead husband.

Her fear of a man in a suit.

Had either of those burdens been diminished during their long night of loving?

Surely she would be more ready to be open with him when they met this morning. He had won her trust last night. More than her trust. They had made love for hours. It had to mean more to her than one night of sex with him.

The eleven o’clock appointment time they had agreed upon came and went. The photographs were spread across his desk, ready for Christabel to see, but the minutes kept ticking past as Jared waited and waited for her to arrive, his inner tension rising with the return of his earlier thoughts.

He remembered his toast to being free.

This one night,
she’d answered.

One night.

He’d been so sure he could make it more.

Somehow he had to make it more.

A knock on his office door brought a leap of hope. She’d come. A bit late but...

His mother entered.

Jared slumped back in his chair, disappointment knifing through him.

“How was the trip?” she asked.

He summoned the energy to announce an enthusiastic, “Great!” then recollected she had spent the weekend with the Connelly family, planning the wedding between Samantha Connelly and his brother Tommy—true love having finally won out for those two. A stab of envy hit him as he asked, “Got the wedding on track?”

“They’ve settled on having it at Kununurra.” She walked over to his desk. “Photographs of Christabel’s designs?”

“Yes. They were a big hit with the Hong Kong traders.”

She perused the shots he’d taken of the display. “They do look splendid. You were right about her talent, Jared.” Her gaze swept up, the sharp intelligence in her dark eyes nailing him. “Will she do more for us?’’

He smiled with ironic whimsy. “Who can tell with Christabel?”

“She’s your enterprise, Jared.”

He shrugged. “I had intended negotiating a new deal with her this morning. She hasn’t shown...yet.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

“I don’t have the right to order her time. You know that. The choice is hers.”

“Nothing has changed?”

He knew it was an oblique reference to last night. She would have been to the house after the flight back to Broome, probably changed clothes before coming on here. Vikki would not have held anything back from his mother.

“Not in that respect, no,” he answered, denying her any more personal insight.

Her gaze wavered. The corner of her mouth almost turned down into a grimace but she checked it. Jared sensed her vexation. She didn’t like the situation with Christabel Valdez. There were too many unknowns for her to feel comfortable with it. Jared well understood her feeling, but it wasn’t going to stop him. Some things couldn’t be stopped.

She affected a dismissive little smile. “Well, I just dropped in to say hello. I must go and check my mail. We’ll discuss the Hong Kong business after lunch.”

“Fine,” Jared agreed.

A tactful retreat...in case Christabel did come this morning... although it was now eleven-forty and looking highly unlikely.

He watched his mother leave. She always moved with dignity and grace. Everyone in the Kimberly referred to her as a great lady—Elizabeth Picard King of Broome and King’s Eden. She was sixty-two but the only giveaway to that age was her white hair, which looked quite stunning framing a relatively unlined face—still a very striking face, dominated by her eyes and the strength of character that always shone through.

He loved and admired his mother. His father may have been the major influence in his two older brothers’ lives, certainly Nathan’s—the oldest son—and perhaps Tommy’s, as well. Lachlan King had been a legend in his time, as had the King men before him, running the great cattle station of King’s Eden.

Jared had loved and respected his father but he’d never wanted to walk in his shoes or take on his territory. Whether it was because he was the youngest son of three, or because he’d been more drawn to the Picard family’s pearl industry, he’d always felt closer to his mother than he had to his father. His mother was a very special person, the most special in his life before Christabel.

Now...he had to find the answers that would make sense of Christabel’s decisions. He couldn’t force them from her. What he needed was more time together. She had denied him that this morning. Perhaps the strength of feeling between them last night had frightened her off. She might think he’d feel justified in making demands, putting pressure on the independent stance she insisted on maintaining.

Jared was quite certain that would not be a winning move. If she was feeling vulnerable, better to let her make the next move when she wanted to. She had to
want
to be with him, Jared reasoned. As much as he wanted to be with her. So it was a matter of leaving the door open for her to enter when she chose.

At twelve noon he picked up the telephone and dialled the number for the Town Beach Caravan Park. As expected, the call was answered by the manager, Brian Galloway, an old-time Broome personality. He was a big man with a big booming voice and a big beer belly, generally liked by everyone.

“Brian, it’s Jared King here.”

“And what can I be doing for you?” came the jovial response.

“I was expecting Christabel Valdez here at Picard headquarters this morning. She hasn’t kept her appointment. Could I leave a message with you for her to call me at her convenience, set up another business meeting?’’

“Sure thing. Leave it to me. I’ll make sure the little lady gets the message.”

“Thank you, Brian. It is important.”

“No problem. Do it as soon as I can.”

“I’m much obliged.”

She had shown interest in the photographs yesterday. She would surely want her curiosity about the display of her designs satisfied. A business meeting could not be threatening to her. She had always kept control over what she did for Picard pearls. If she was feeling nervous, apprehensive over what he might have assumed from last night, this assurance of strictly business should give her enough confidence to walk through his door again.

Then what?

Grab her and make love on the desk? Make her feel so much that she’d spill out
why
they couldn’t be together? His hands clenched into hard fists. He had to get hold of something he could fight, and fight he would to his dying breath. Christabel was his woman, and after last night, he had every right to fight for her. If only she’d let him!

The surge of fierce aggression gradually ebbed and he settled back into accepting the mental challenge she’d always posed. Giving her time and space had worked before. He’d give it a chance to work again before going after her. But the urge to confront was so strong, it was going to be hell holding a patient line, now that he knew what they could have together.

So how long would he give her? Until he couldn’t stand it any longer.

No call came that afternoon.

No call came on Tuesday.

By the end of the second day, Jared could not contain his frustration at Christabel’s silence. They did have a business arrangement. The courtesy of a call didn’t cost much.