Wild About the Man (Mills & Boon Modern Tempted) (11 page)

Since she’d arrived at Two-B he’d done an excellent job of seducing her heart and her brain and he’d lodged himself firmly under her skin. When she was out of his arms, she tried to be practical and reasonable about the effect he had on her but when she touched him, or he touched her, rationality and sense flew out of the window.

She now truly, as a woman—and not as a star-struck girl—understood why women made seemingly stupid decisions in the name of lust and attraction and sex.

Touching Nick, being touched by Nick, suddenly seemed as necessary to her as breathing.
Actually, if she had to forgo breathing in order to be loved by him then she’d happily do that as well.

Nick, reading her thoughts, placed his hand on her waist and picked her up and turned her, placing her so that she straddled him. After kissing her, long and deep, he murmured endearments in her ear; hard, shocking—sexy—words that had her breath spiking and her pulse jumping. Then his mouth was everywhere she needed it to be and his hands—clever and competent—were everywhere else.

It wasn’t graceful, it wasn’t sophisticated, it wasn’t even proper sex, Clem thought as she collapsed, her hand still trapped in his shorts, his in her panties.

Nick’s hands stroked her bottom before pulling her panties straight. ‘Well, that hasn’t happened to me since I was sixteen.’

Clem moved up his body, curling into him and putting her face into his neck. ‘I want you—’

‘But?’

‘I … I …’

Nick just patted her back and his voice was even when he spoke. ‘Not ready? Scared? Bad timing?’

‘All of the above.’ Clem slid off him, sat on the edge of the lounger with her back to him. Standing up, she walked to the side table, found the box of matches and lit the paraffin lamp on the table. When she turned back to Nick he was
sitting up, his hair dishevelled from running his hands through it.

He held out his hand. ‘Come and sit down, Red.’

Clem sat opposite him, cross-legged, and looked down at her hands. ‘It’s complicated.’

‘It always is,’ Nick said, his hand resting on her thigh.

‘I haven’t done many things I’m proud of, Nick. Unlike you, I haven’t created something lasting, something that matters—that makes a difference. I’ve wasted a lot of time on stupid, meaningless … things and activities.’

‘OK.’

Clem took a deep breath. ‘The one thing I do really well is give all of myself, rush into things and, because I don’t like to admit failure, I stay stuck in bad situations.’

‘And I’m a bad situation?’

‘Not bad, just complicated. We have such great chemistry, but the last time I felt this chemistry I ended up making a—what’s that expression you use?—a dumpster fire of my life.’ Clem met his serious eyes and dredged up a smile. ‘And I’ll be out of your life soon …’

Nick looked at her for a long, long moment. She could see the wheels turning in his head. When he eventually spoke, it was what she least expected to hear. ‘I agree.’

‘Excuse me?’

His eyes looked silver by the light of the lantern.
‘It’s a really bad idea and I hear you. But I also think the main reason you don’t want to sleep with me is the same reason I’m wary of sleeping with you.’

‘And what would that be?’

‘Because we wouldn’t be having sex.’

‘I’ve lost you.’

‘We would be making love and there are continents between the two.’ Nick rubbed his forehead. ‘We could’ve had sex the day after you arrived if that’s all we were after. And I did think about it.’

‘I—’

‘Sleeping together, intimate, proper sex is crossing a line—I agree with you there. By crossing it, we’d then open up a whole Pandora’s box of emotional stuff that neither of us is ready to deal with.’

‘I—’

‘Sex would just speed things up and would put too much stress on a situation that is already stressed to the hilt.’ Nick blew out his cheeks. ‘Look, I can recognize sex-for-fun women and you’re not the type. Sex means feelings and connections to you and you’re still working through that stuff with your ex.’

Clem shook her head. ‘I’m not thinking about him at all … I’m thinking about me.’

‘And that’s just another reason not to do this.’ Nick’s mouth twisted. ‘This, you and me, can’t go anywhere—we have different lives on different
continents and you’re leaving soon, so why complicate it further?’

‘But I thought you wanted—’

‘Of course I do. I’m a man, for God’s sake. But I’m mature enough to walk away from something that might be nice right now and could cause chaos tomorrow.’

Clem placed her hands in her lap. ‘So, what do we do now?’

‘What do you think we should do?’

‘Be friends?’ Clem wrinkled her nose. ‘Do you think we can?’

‘We can try.’

Nick swung his legs off the lounger and gestured her to stand up. He bent his head to gently kiss her lips before speaking against her lips. ‘This isn’t easy for me, Clem, don’t think it’s easy.’

‘It’s late and we have to get up early,’ he added softly.

Clem nodded her agreement. ‘Then I’ll go to bed.’

She didn’t want to leave but she forced herself to make the very long walk to her room.

She didn’t see Nick blow out the lantern or realize that, in a very rare fit of temper, he slammed his fist into the wall.

Clem woke up the next day and stretched, feeling rested and relaxed and … She giggled as she rested her hand on her lower stomach. It was
amazing how a good orgasm could make a girl feel giddy. Even though she and Nick had, in a fit of stupid maturity, agreed that pursuing a physical relationship was a bad move … well, she’d always have the memory of what had happened on the deck.

She started to hum and drifted towards the shower. Nobody had
ever
told her, showed her, how fabulous sex could be and if that was just a taster …
Mamma Mia!

She stepped into the shower and picked up her soap and, as its fragrance drifted up to her nose, recollections of what day it was slapped her across the face. She stumbled and slumped against the wall. This was the same soap her mother had always used and she’d carried on the tradition.

Her mum had been dead fifteen years today and she’d forgotten, lost in sexual daydreams. She never forgot, never once in all this time, nothing had
ever
distracted her from the importance of the day.

Clem whimpered and rested the side of her head against the shower wall as water slid off her body. The fall from contentment to despair was instant and complete.

She sank to the floor of the shower and, sitting on her haunches, she wrapped her arms around her knees as her tears mingled with the shower water.

She’d forgotten …
How could she?

Nick, thanks to several contributing factors to his hellish day, knew that his temper was simmering at somewhere just below explosive. Due to a permit snafu, the rhinos at the reserve up north hadn’t been moved yet and every day they remained there, unprotected, they were at risk. One of his sous chefs had resigned, which meant a tiresome search for a replacement who would suit Chef’s insane standard of perfection and his—less insane—budget.

And the damned VAT return was due. He hadn’t even touched the fact that two of his rangers had come to blows in The Pit the night before and that the plane needed to go in for a service.

And he had the sex life of a teenager. Frustrated was too mild a word to describe his state of mind. Irritated, aggravated and annoyed were closer to the mark but still inadequate.

Friends
? He replayed last night.
What a joke.
His libido refused to acknowledge his brain and the party continued in his pants.

And his hand was throbbing like a bitch.

Nick settled down at his desk and pulled up his accounting program to run his tax reports and shook his head at the brisk rap on his door. All he needed was a half hour to get this done … Was that asking too much?

Nick lifted his eyebrows at Megan, who half opened his door to look in. ‘Yeah, Megs?’

Megan held the door behind her back and
shifted from foot to foot. ‘Nick, can I ask you a favour?’

‘It’s not a good time, Megan.’

‘Um … the Sheikh, the one from Bahrain, is due to arrive in half an hour and I have a little crisis. Can you meet him and show him to his cottage?’

Nick glanced down at his dirty golf shirt and grubby blood and muck streaked trousers. He’d been up at the animal sanctuary removing a snare from a jackal’s leg and he was less than fresh. ‘I’m filthy, Megan. What’s the crisis?’

‘Monkeys have got into cottage number five and have wrecked the place.’

Nick winced. ‘Normal destruction or did they go to town?’

‘They tossed the place and have urinated everywhere.’

‘Damn it. Housekeeping?’

Megan winced. ‘We gave them the afternoon off for Mama Bhengu’s funeral and the rangers are all in the field. I asked … Look, I need to fix the cottage for the Wilsons and I need to be here so can you help me with one or the other?’

Nick narrowed his eyes. ‘You asked Clem, didn’t you?’

Megan looked deeply uncomfortable. ‘Yeah … she was most … she said that she’d rather eat slugs.’

Nick abruptly stood up and his chair skittered backwards. ‘She’s been in a mood all day—’ they both had, due to too much emotion and too little
sleep, but if he had to keep going then so did she ‘—and I’m sick of it. Where is she?’

Megan shifted from foot to foot. ‘She took your Landy back to the house.’

‘She what?’ Nick roared. ‘Without protection? If it broke down or she had an accident—’

‘I radioed her; she got back safely.’

‘That’s not the point! I’m going to kill her!’

Megan grimaced as he stormed past her. ‘OK, but first … can you sort out cottage number five?’

It took Nick an hour and a half to fix the cottage, to mop and disinfect the walls and surfaces, to change the linen on the bed and to replace broken lamps and vases.

His mood had climbed from simmering to volcanic and he found himself gripping the steering wheel of a spare vehicle as he made his way home. Sorting out the cottage had been the perfect end to an awful day. He was tired, frustrated and he still had to deal with Clem.

Oh, joy.

Nick pulled up and hopped out of the vehicle, sending a kudu bull behind the thicket opposite the lawn a cursory glance. He flung open the door and stormed into the house, tossing his radio and keys on the dining room table. Liam shot up from his seat in the lounge and hoisted his camera. Nick glared at him as he stalked past.

‘If you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep that thing out of my face. Clem!’

When she didn’t answer he walked down the passage and, without bothering to knock, he opened the door to her bedroom. Clem, towel drying her hair, walked out of the bathroom and turned to look at him. Her eyes skittered away and she stared at the floor.

When she spoke, her voice was toneless. ‘I’m asking you, as nicely as I can, to just leave me alone. Please?’

‘That’s not going to happen,’ Nick flung back as Liam slinked past him to take up a position in the far corner. Nick noticed that her eyes were red rimmed but, at that particular moment, he didn’t care.

‘Is this about last night?’ he asked.

If he had been a lesser man then her look would have withered him on the spot.

‘Then you have exactly five seconds to find a good reason why you couldn’t clean that cottage.’

Clem hung the towel over the back of a chair and shrugged. ‘I don’t have one.’

‘Excuse me?’

Clem shrugged. ‘I didn’t feel like it.’

Nick felt his pulse beating in his head and he bit the inside of his mouth to keep his temper in check. ‘You didn’t feel like it?’

Clem walked over to the chest of drawers and reached for some body lotion. She placed her foot on a chair and rubbed the lotion up her long legs. ‘No.’

Nick felt the stirring in his body and that just
added fuel to the fire. ‘Clem, I had to sort out the cottage. Megan couldn’t and there was nobody else. I have a million things to do …’

‘Then go and do them and leave me alone.’

‘Is that all you have to say?’

‘Sorry,’ Clem replied in a voice that was devoid of emotion. It certainly held no apology.

‘I thought we’d moved beyond you acting like this.’

‘Obviously not.’

Nick shoved his hands into his hair, ignoring the little voice inside him that was insisting that he was missing a great deal of this puzzle. He was too furious to consider why she was acting like the worst version of herself.

Maybe it was time she left. He was mad enough, frustrated enough to think her going was a reasonable solution to his current problem. The words were out of his mouth before he thought them through. ‘If I can’t rely on you, then call your father and tell him to send the jet.’

He yanked his mobile from his pocket and handed it to her. ‘Just dial five.’

Clem looked at the phone as if it was a snake about to bite her, but she eventually took the mobile with a shaking hand and pressed five. Nick stared at her bent head and wondered what the hell he was doing. She wasn’t supposed to call his bluff; he didn’t want her to leave. He cursed and reached for the mobile but she backed away.

‘Dad? I need to come home. Can you come and get me?’

Nick watched as Clem held the phone to her ear, unable to hear Hugh’s voice. When he saw her wipe her eyes with the tips of her fingers, he frowned. The sense that there was something bigger happening here than he was aware of started to grow, smothering his anger.

‘OK. Yeah, I’ll be fine.’ Clem’s voice cracked and she dropped the hand holding her phone to her side. Her face was blotchy when she lifted it to look properly at Nick. ‘My father won’t send the jet today. He wants me to call him again in the morning.’

‘That’s not … I … Clem, what’s going on?’ Nick demanded, now thoroughly confused.

Clem handed him his mobile, backed away and shook her head. ‘I’m asking you, and Liam, to leave me alone. Please? I know I’ve been every type of bitch today but I’m asking this one last thing of you. Please, just go.’

Nick, not knowing what else to do or say when confronted with such a worn, beaten down Clem, just looked at Liam and jerked his head.