Bound by Their Love (4 page)

He heard the packet being ripped open and then her fingers were on him and he counted the many ways to cut a diamond, worried that if he didn't keep his mind busy he'd shoot his load all over her.

Finally her fingers left his cock and cupped his face.

‘Look at me,' she demanded, in a voice stronger than anything she'd used on him.

He met her eyes, noting they were more golden than he had seen before. Would they sparkle even more during the throes of her orgasm? He didn't say anything as he positioned himself at her entrance.

‘Take me, now.'

He didn't need to be told twice. He angled his hips and entered her in one smooth movement. Her muscles clenched around him, tighter than he'd ever felt before. Keeping still for a moment, he imprinted this moment of joining their bodies into his memory. He didn't want to forget.

Her fingers, still gripping his face, dug in a little, telling him to get moving. He was happy to oblige. He began to move, pulling out and pushing in, appreciating the sensations their bodies were giving to each other.

Jeff captured her lips as his body took over; taking them on a journey he wasn't sure he was ever going to forget. Her hands moved to grip his hips and he increased the pace; her muscles pulsed and her legs curled even tighter around him. The spiky heels of Greta's shoes dug into his thighs. It fuelled him on. If he could take those shoes he would. Keep them as a memory of their time together.

He wrenched his mouth away from hers as his lower back tingled in anticipation of his own release. Her cry of completion filled the room, her body shuddering around his.

‘
Angel,
' he groaned out loud as his own orgasm hit him hard. His body twitched inside of hers as he came down from the high of having her. He gathered her close, not wanting to let her go.

Greta struggled to catch her breath after losing herself so completely within Jeff's arms. She uncurled her legs from around his waist, wincing as her muscles protested the movement.

Jeff's body unexpectedly flinched above hers. His body full of tension when it should have been as relaxed as hers after their intense lovemaking session. A groan of pain filled the room and his hand clutched his thigh as he abruptly rolled off her.

‘Son of a bitch,' he muttered.

She sat up immediately, shocked at the pain clearly written all over his face. ‘Jeff, what is it?'

‘Nothing.' The word ground out of him.

Greta tracked her vision to where his hands were clutching his leg. She couldn't stop the gasp of shock from coming from her. Scars crisscrossed his leg, from the top of his thigh to below the knee. How she hadn't noticed or felt them when her legs had been wrapped around his she had no idea.

Her hand, of its own accord, reached out to touch them. Traced the pattern they created over his leg. The shock of seeing them disappeared as sympathy as to what he must have endured swept over her.

‘What happened?' she whispered out as her fingers connected with one scar. Jeff pulled his leg away, grimacing at the sharp movement. She wanted to massage the muscle that was clearly twisting and causing him pain.

‘I don't want to talk about it.'

Greta watched in disbelief as Jeff dragged his leg over the side of the bed so that he could stand. Every instinct urged her to try and help, but she also knew if she did he would reject her attempts.

‘I've got to go,' he said, as he gave his leg a couple of quick rubs before he limped into the bathroom.

She fell back against the bed. Aware she was naked except for her shoes, humiliation swept over her. She looked like a high-class hooker. That wasn't who she was. Determined to be dressed when Jeff came out of the bathroom, she reached down, all but wrenching the straps on her shoes to get them undone. Not caring if she damaged the soft leather. It didn't matter if she did. She was never going to wear this pair of shoes again.

Quickly she grabbed some clothes from the dresser. She'd just pulled down her sweater when Jeff walked out of the bathroom. He'd wrapped a bright white towel around his waist. His hair stood up like he'd been running his fingers through it repeatedly.

An unwelcome awkwardness flowed through her. A feeling she'd never had after sleeping with a man. Heck, everything about their time together had been different to her other liaisons.

‘Umm,' she started and stopped. What did you say in a situation like this?

Wow, the weather's lovely today, isn't it.

Greta shook her head. Trying to decide what to do next. She'd just shared amazing sex with Jeff. Instead of standing on either side of the bed, like they were about to battle, they should've been in the bed heading toward round two.

‘I'm sorry, Angel.' Jeff scrubbed a hand down his face.

‘I'm not your
Angel
, so stop calling me that. And what exactly are you sorry for? Sorry for sleeping with me? Sorry for being a jerk?' She rounded the bed until she stood in front of him. Even though her body was wanting him to have her again, she wasn't going to degrade herself by succumbing to her baser needs. ‘Just leave. Forget we ever met and slept together. That's what I'm planning to do.'

She turned away from him and strode out of the bedroom, heading for the balcony. Opening the French doors, she stepped out into the bright sunshine.

Why the hell couldn't it be storming and raining. That would suit me better.

Greta gripped the railing. How the hell had the day got so far removed from what she had envisaged when she'd arrived? Her goal had been to check out the jewellery designs. Work up an amazing presentation that blew everyone out of the water, at the same time crushing Graham and his presentation into the ground.

How could her father think Graham was more suited for the vice president's role? She'd been working alongside her father for years. Graham had been with the company for six months. She was beginning to wonder if her father hadn't brought Graham on board solely for the VP position. It would be just like her father to do that. After everything she'd done. How she'd changed herself to be like one of the boys. To him she was still the little girl dancing in her one and only ballet recital. A little girl who was best suited to stay at home and look pretty. After all, according to her father, girls had no place in the cutthroat world of business. They're too soft.

The sound of the door opening had her tensing; waiting to see what Jeff was going to do, and more importantly what he was going to say.

‘Greta?'

‘Yes.' At least he didn't call her
Angel
. She'd never been with anyone long enough to be called anything other than her name. She'd known Jeff less that three hours and he used an endearment when addressing her.

Hands landed on her shoulders, turning her in the circle of his arms. Greta held herself still. The urge to melt against him that had gripped her in the bedroom still held her in its wicked clutches. She refused to look up at him.

His warm hand cupped her chin and lifted her head until she had no choice but to meet his eyes. What she saw in them had her wishing he wore his wretched sunglasses. She didn't want to see the remorse and regret shining out of him. How could she being feeling this intense sensation of her heart being torn apart? It was ridiculous. She wasn't in love with him. She'd just met the man, for goodness sake.

‘Just go,' she whispered. ‘Leave, Jeff. Don't do whatever it is you want to do.'

A sigh rippled through him. ‘Angel,' he breathed out before he placed his lips on hers, the urgency to devour each other gone. In its place was sweetness and sorrow mixed together.

Then her lips were free and he was striding away from her, back into the dark depths of the room. All but disappearing from her view. Greta wondered if that was symbolic of his life. When things got too difficult to face, the shadows of life were easier for him to live in.

Chapter 6

Jeffrey touched the shoes sitting on his worktable. Unsuccessfully trying to forget the woman who owned them. It had been a month since he'd spent those few hours with Greta. Yet he hadn't been able to put the memories of their short time together from his mind.

He moved to pick up the elegant ankle cuff he'd designed once he'd returned home from the resort. He turned the cuff to the right. The diamonds in the centre of the filigree flowers glittered in the light. It was even more stunning than he'd imagined it would be. Like the rest of his collection. Luc was going to be very happy when he saw the pieces. If only he didn't have to travel down to Perth to sit through the presentations from four advertising agencies. Not when new requests for custom pieces were coming in on a daily basis. He didn't have the time.

Jeffrey had told Luc he could pick the agency himself. Luc's threat to come up to Broome and drag his
sorry arse
to Perth didn't persuade him to venture to the city. He'd argued with his friend. But Luc had been adamant—Jeff's input on the final decision was not a request but a requirement. Agreeing had been the only way he could get Luc off the phone.

Jeffrey placed the cuff into the velvet-lined case and added it to the two other boxes sitting on the table. He was taking the three pieces to show Luc. The rest of the collection was securely locked away in the hidden safe in his studio.

He reached out to touch the shoes one last time. He should've felt guilty for taking them. Why she'd left them in her villa he didn't know. He never imagined, when he'd returned to the resort to apologise, that housekeeping would greet him. He'd walked through the villa, needing confirmation for himself that she had checked out.

He'd seen the shoes and picked them up. They'd fast become a talisman. The inspiration for his collection.

As he'd designed each piece, he'd imagined it adorning Greta's body. The delicate cuff wrapped around her slim ankle. The diamond star, hanging from a thin chain, nestled between her breasts. The diamond and sapphire bracelet encircling her wrist. He wouldn't think about the ring he'd designed. No one was going to see that drawing, even if it was one of the best things he'd designed.

The iconic sound of Queen and David Bowie's tune ‘Under Pressure' blared out. He'd assigned the song as Luc's ringtone. The title fitting for the pressure Luc had put him under. But he didn't hold that against his friend. If it wasn't for Luc demanding a meeting, he'd never have met Greta and his best collection would never have been born.

‘Hey Luc.'

‘Hi Jeff. I wanted to confirm Heather emailed your flight details to you.'

Jeffrey couldn't help but smile at Luc's straight-to-the-point attitude. He had no time for platitudes, but Jeffrey had also seen another side of Luc. A gentler side. He guessed Luc usually only showed that side of himself with his wife, Jasmine.

‘I'm fine, Luc, thanks for asking and yes I received the details. Heather also phoned and confirmed where I'm staying and what time all the appointments are.'

‘Good. Jasmine wants to let you know she expects you to come to dinner while you're down. She told me to tell you she won't take no for an answer.'

Jeffrey laughed. ‘You say it often to her do you, Luc?'

An answering chuckle sounded down the line. ‘I value my life. Plus I love my wife, I can't say no to her. I keep my “no's” for the business world.'

‘Don't I know it,' he muttered. He'd heard a few of Luc's
no's
over the last few weeks. ‘Dinner with you and Jasmine sounds good. I need to see this house of yours. Let me know the day and time and I'll be there.'

‘Good. I need to get to a meeting, so I'll see you tomorrow.'

‘Okay, see you then.' Jeffrey pulled the phone away from his ear to disconnect the call when he heard the faint sound of his name. He put the phone back to his ear. ‘Sorry, I missed that. What did you say?'

‘I wanted to say thanks for doing this, Jeff, I know it was a big ask of me. But it's time, you know.'

Jeffrey didn't need to know what Luc was referring to. He'd told his friend the bare bones about his skiing accident. But Luc didn't know of the life ripped from his fingertips on the mountain. Nor how close Jeffrey had come to spending his life in a wheelchair. His only salvation had been his jewellery designing and the solitude of his house in Broome.

‘Yeah, I know,' Jeffrey responded quietly. ‘I need to say thanks to you too, Luc.'

‘Really?'

‘Yes, and you'll understand when you see the pieces I bring. Later.'

This time Jeffrey quickly disconnected the call and placed his phone back on his worktable. He scrubbed his hand down his face. It was going to be a tough few days but he'd get through it. He'd fought his way to being able to walk again. Spending a few days in the city, sitting through meetings with stuffy old boring advertising executives, couldn't be hard. It wouldn't be like he'd be spending every waking moment hoping to run into Greta again. He knew he'd used up his fate quota the day they'd met.

A part of him couldn't help but hope for one last fate intervention. One last kiss. One last moment in time where he could touch her.

He disregarded the thought; their time together had passed. He was too used to being alone to ever consider a relationship again. In his darkest hours, though, he yearned for the arms of one particular woman to surround him. To take him from the darkness and welcome him into the light.

Greta rushed around her apartment, collecting the materials for her presentation. She couldn't believe she'd overslept on the most important day of her career. She wouldn't be late. Her presentation at the Morelli Corporation was at eleven. It was only eight o'clock. She had plenty of time.

Her plan had to been to get to the office extra early so she could do another run-through. Make sure she had every contingency covered to secure the account. Her campaign was different, a little outside the box. Like the man who created the jewellery. His designs were cutting edge. She hoped he'd appreciate her different approach to show the world his new collection.