Weekend Agreement (16 page)

If
he wanted her? Daniel gathered Charlotte in his arms, gently lowering her to the floor. Arms clutched at his shoulders, nails digging at his skin. He kissed her deeply, savoring the taste and feel of her mouth.
If?
There wasn’t a part of his body that
didn’t
want her. When he brought her upstairs, he was so far gone he was certain his body would explode the moment he was inside her. That’s how badly he wanted her.

But suddenly, now… He stared at the beautiful woman lying in his arms. Eyes half-closed, lips parted in anticipation, she was pliant and willing. He could take her tonight and enjoy what he was certain would be an incredible night of passion.

With a woman who wanted him and nothing more.

The knowledge reached deep inside him, to a place he kept locked away from the world. Suddenly, his need wasn’t quite so urgent. Oh, he still wanted her, but for the first time he didn’t feel like he had to seize the moment. Getting to know her, savoring her presence seemed just as important.

Taking a deep breath, he rolled away. Charlotte sat up.

“What’s wrong?”

He kissed the confusion from her eyes. “Nothing, my dear Professor. Nothing at all.”

She cupped his cheek, the sincerity in her eyes more of aphrodisiac than she’d ever know. “I meant what I said.”

“I know,” he said, bending to kiss her.

And for the first time in his life, he was poised to believe.

His hands found their way to her zipper. The rasping of metal filled the room as inch by inch he unwrapped his prize.

Prize? Try treasure. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her vanilla scent. The aroma made him dizzy. He was rock-hard, aching for release. But not yet. Instead, he let his fingers trace the bodice of her opened dress, slipping under the edge to tease the breasts beneath. Charlotte sighed and tugged at his jacket, shoving it off his shoulders with almost violent urgency. He helped her out, tossing the jacket aside, then quickly ridding himself of the rest of his clothes.

When finished he leaned back on his haunches and gazed at the woman laid out before him. His breath caught in his throat. Was this moment real? Desire quickly quashed any doubt. She was everything he imagined and more. Skin pink, lips red and wet from his kisses.

He traced the swell of her breasts, then bent to taste their sweetness. Her fingers twisted in his hair. Her body arched.

“Please…” The word left her lips in a whisper.

Looking up, he saw that that her eyes were dilated wide, the green all but a thin circle around big black pupils. A thrill shot through him knowing he’d brought her to this point.

He pushed her gown lower, aided by her kicking and squirming. The friction of her hips against him felt like heaven and he had to fight to keep from ruining the moment like a teenage boy. On shaking arms—dear God, he was shaking wasn’t he? When did that ever happen? On shaking arms, he raised himself up. Outside, the wind howled and ocean pounded the rocks. Daniel never noticed. His ears were filled with whispered pleas of more, and when Charlotte arched her back one final time, it was his name he heard filling the air.
His.

…

Afterward, neither of them spoke. Eyes closed, Charlotte lay there and reveled in the weightiness of the man half-sprawled across her. The heat of his skin on hers. The blissed-out rasp of his breathing. The air smelled of their lovemaking, a heady, musky scent. All were tangible proof that the pleasure rolling through her body wasn’t a dream.

After what seemed too short a time, Daniel rolled over, letting out an oath as he did so.

“That was romantic,” she said. She refused to think the oath was said out of regret.

“I’m at a loss for words.” He opened his arms, and she scooted closer, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. “Regrets?”

She wasn’t the only one fighting doubts, though in his case, he needn’t have asked. How could she possibly regret something so…so…

He was right; there were no words. “No.” Then, because she couldn’t help herself, she lifted her head. “You?”

“The swearing wasn’t answer enough?” His smile softened, and he brushed the hair from her temple. “No, Professor. No regrets.”

“Good.” She lay back down. “I do think you’ve spoiled me for anyone else though.”

“I’m sure I have—hey!” She poked him in the ribs. Only he would admit such a truth aloud.

“This is where you’re supposed to tell me the same thing.”

“Absolutely. I can honestly say you’ve spoiled me for all other men as well.”

Charlotte laughed. “Sex makes you silly.”

“I’m relaxed. Hell,” he said, letting out a long breath, “I can’t remember when I felt this relaxed. Certainly not in a long, long time.”

“I’m glad.” If she could, she’d bring him to this state every night.

My son seldom keeps the same companion for long…

Not now. She refused to let her mind go anywhere beyond these four walls. Tonight, Daniel was hers, and she was his. Raising up on one elbow, she studied the man beside her. The light cast shadows on his torso, reminding her of shadows falling across rippled sand. Gently, she traced their shapes until she reached the line of hair just below his navel. A dark, inviting trail. Memories of the way he explored her body flashed through her mind, and even though her body still hummed from her climax moments before, desire pooled anew. God, but he had spoiled her. She was already addicted. She ran her foot upward, against his shin, trapping his thigh under hers. The hair tickled her bare skin. Restlessly, she rubbed against him, seeking friction. Seeking more of
him.

Daniel groaned and his hand slipped down to cup her buttocks. He pulled her close, giving her the contact she craved. “Have I unleashed a monster?”

“Would that be a problem?”

“Not for me.” Fingers tangling in her hair, he tugged her mouth to his, pulling her on top of him in the process. Charlotte felt the press of his erection against her hip. She wasn’t the only one needing
more.
The knowledge she had just as strong an effect on him made her smile.

“What’s that grin for?” he asked.

“I was thinking how much I like dancing with you.”

“Just dancing?”

“Maybe a few other things,” she said, pressing a kiss to his lips. The truth was, there was a lot she liked doing with him, so much it scared her. Again, though, now was not the time for fears. Tonight was about pleasure. “I also think I owe my brother an apology. If he hadn’t sold you that farm, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Remind me to send him a thank-you note.”

Suddenly, a wicked gleam appeared in his eyes. One that sent hot, needy shivers along her spine. “What?” she asked him.

“Your comment made me realize something. You’re mine for the weekend.”

Longer than that. She bit back the words, and instead forced her voice to remain playful. “Why? You have plans?”

“I have plans.” He sat up and felt around the floor, coming up with the scarf she’d been wearing earlier.

A second shiver ran down Charlotte’s spine. “You wouldn’t…” The husky note in her voice betrayed how much she was on board with his idea. Well, part of his idea anyway.

Daniel wrapped the scarf around the leg of the dresser. “Thank goodness for Chippendale,” she heard him murmur. As he worked, the muscles on his shoulders rippled, giving Charlotte little choice but to lean forward and nip at the skin. Addict that she’d become, she was needy and impatient, and more than a little emboldened. The moan escaping Daniel’s clenched teeth—a frustrated moan of self-restraint—only made her bolder. She wanted to hear him cry out the way she had, to hear her name from his lips.

“Come here,” Daniel commanded. He reached for her waist and lifted her until she straddled his body. The action was her chance. Leaning forward, she kissed him, hard, grinding her hips as she did so. Daniel reacted as she expected—with enthusiasm. His hands loosened their grip and slid up her back to tangle once again in her hair. With a grin, Charlotte grabbed his wrists and quickly raised his arms above his head.

“What the—?”

“Who says you should get all the fun?” she teased. His eyes grew wide, but he didn’t move. In fact, he helped her by grabbing the scarf ends and pulling them taut. “So, I’m to be your prisoner, am I?” His voice had dropped a notch, rough and raw sounding.

“Most definitely.” She wrapped the silk around his wrists, clasping them together. “I may be yours for the weekend, but right now you’re mine, to do whatever I please.”

Beneath her, she felt Daniel’s erection pulse enthusiastically. “How am I supposed to touch you?”

“That’s the point: you don’t.” This time she would be the one whose tongue and hands explored. Whose mouth tasted. She scooted back to his feet so she could better see the length of him. Laid-out perfection. Heat coiled between her legs. Maybe, when she finished, he’d be as addicted to her as she was to him.

“Now…” Her tongue ran a strip up the inside of his thigh. “How about I teach you a new dance?”

…

The soft gray light of morning cleared away the last of the rain. Daniel stood in the window, watching the clouds fold into the horizon. A new dawn. A new day.

Behind him Charlotte stirred but didn’t wake. Turning, he looked at her with a smile. Sheets twisted about her legs in abandon, hair fanned across her pillow, she was the picture of bliss. The perfect invitation to return to bed.

No. Joining her would only lead to kissing her, and that would wake her up. Let her sleep. He’d kept her up most of the night.

Odd. He’d slept with a lot of women, and as satisfying as the sex had been, he’d never felt as consumed by it as he did last night. Her taste, her scent, the road map of her body all held amazing discoveries. He’d been insatiable in his explorations. Hell, he thought, growing aroused again, he was
still
insatiable.

It was definitely going to take more than one incredible night to get her out of his system.

He had, of course, absolutely no intention of holding her to her promise to negate the propriety clause. The farm was hers. Free and clear. Because he wanted Charlotte to have it. He wanted to give something.
He
wanted, not her.

Because she’d given to him first, and asked for nothing in return but that he be himself. His chest swelled with a fullness he didn’t think possible. Did she have an idea how precious her gift was? No one had ever… The fullness jumped to his throat, making him cough. For that gift alone he’d be forever grateful.

Moving away from the window, he grabbed his clothes from where he’d tossed them the night before. Watching Charlotte sleep only invited temptation. He was better off grabbing a cup of coffee.

Trappings of last night’s event still decorated the stairwell. The caterers would return later this morning to remove them. Until then, the house was quiet except for the ticking of the clock. Good. Crossing paths with his family was the last thing he felt like doing. His vision grew red every time he pictured Cole’s hands on Charlotte. Who the hell did he think he was, playing with his Professor?

Last night was the final straw. He was done with the whole bloody lot of them. Done with honoring a family tie that meant nothing. Charlotte was right. He deserved better. Last night he saw a glimpse of what
better
might be.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the great Daniel Moretti.”

So much for avoiding the family. Vivian glared at him from the dining room table.

“You could at least show a little discretion,” she said. “Instead of flaunting your latest affair in Valerie’s face.”

He looked down at his unbuttoned shirt, then at the empty dining room table. “Valerie isn’t here,” he said. She seldom woke before ten on weekends. “Besides, my flaunting would hardly be a problem if you hadn’t played your little game and brought her out here in the first place. I’m sorry it backfired.”

Breakfast had been put on the sideboard. He poured himself a cup of coffee. “I wouldn’t worry too much about Valerie, by the way. Her producer friend will be more than glad to comfort her.”

“What about me? Do you have any sympathy for the fact the whole island is gossiping about me behind my back? I’m the laughingstock of the whole island.”

Daniel watched as the sugar poured off his spoon into the cup. “It’s way too early for dramatics, Mother. Just say what you mean.”

“I mean the way you attacked Cole over this supposed ‘assault,’” she said, framing the word with her fingers, “on Professor Doherty. Everywhere I turned, people wanted to talk about how you rushed to her rescue. Poor Cole had to hide out in his room.”

If Cole hid in his room, it was because he was sleeping it off or avoiding another collision with his fist. “Yeah, about Cole… You can forget my ever funding that ridiculous boat idea or any other scheme you have to make him a mogul. He’s seen his last cent from me.”