Chase (30 page)

I yield willingly, filled and glowing, arching to meet him thrust for thrust, all my softness hauling him in, willing him deeper.

When he comes I can almost feel his heat, almost sense the shudder of relief that engulfs him. It glows in me, too, even though my own orgasm is still seconds away.

‘More?’ His slow grin taunts my lateness. He grinds against me, his hard, rippling abdomen granting the mercy I crave and I convulse in his arms, pinned to the door like a butterfly, twitching in ecstasy like some helpless insect.

Later I wake in the darkness. After the first rush of union we’d lingered, making love until late, then finally fallen asleep. Now I’m warm, still lying in the crook of his arm.

But something woke me
.

I glance up and see his profile, etched silver in the low light seeping in at the edge of the drapes. He’s lying very still, barely breathing, but there’s a glitter from his eyes as he stares up at the ceiling.

‘
Darnley?
’ I feel a light pressure of his fingers on my arm, where he’s still holding me, but he says nothing. ‘Are you OK?’

He stiffens. ‘It’s not right. What happened today.’

I frown. ‘What’s not right? You should be pleased. It’s the best possible outcome, surely?’

He turns to face me, his eyes glinting in the darkness. ‘Is it, Ella? The Kraik people pay out some money like they always do and it all goes quiet again. You think that’s the best possible outcome?’

‘Yes,’ I murmur, puzzled now. ‘It is. Why are you looking at me like that?’

I see a gleam from his teeth as he grins. ‘Why do you think?’

‘Go on, then,’ I say softly. The gleam in his eyes is stronger now, and his touch is sure, his body eager. I fold around him, slick and welcoming as we fuse again.

But now I have a nagging doubt. Even now, after such a successful day, Kraik still haunts him.

Will he ever be free of this
?

Next day he’s in Washington again. He flies in late and calls to ask me to meet him for dinner. I race to find something slinky and opt for designer pants and a stunning top.

As we reunite at the bar and finally find our table I’m pleased with the effect as other diners glance up. The approving gleam in his eyes makes me melt.

Over our meal I learn his business went well, he’s pleased with his day. But when I ask why he lapses into silence. Soon our meal becomes a test of wills as his dark gaze shrivels my appetite.

‘You’re not eating.’ But he’s not scolding. He looks pleased.

‘You’re putting me off.’ I look at him from under my lashes, and soon we’re leaving the restaurant, security in tow, staff in line to see us off.

In the car he holds me close. Every so often he finds my mouth. I surrender eagerly as my excitement mounts. In the short walk from the comfort of the car to his front door the sharp cold does nothing to cool me down.

Indoors all is quiet, the lighting low. The sitting area draws us in with its flickering firelight and a tempting tray of supper left on the side.

I wonder briefly if he’s planned this and then remind myself he plans everything, even his fun. Now his eager hands make short work of my flimsy top and my pants are swiftly peeled away, leaving only my lingerie-and-heels combo. I feel like a hooker as excitement flares.

His look sweeps over me as his eyes glitter in the firelight. ‘Wait here. We’ll have a nightcap. I’ll fetch something.’

I sprawl back on the sofa, splaying my legs and letting the firelight glow on my limbs, biting my lip with excitement.

When he comes back he’s shed his clothes and slipped into his velour robe. His bare feet pad softly across the floor as he comes in, swinging a champagne bottle and two glasses in one hand. His other is bunched round something rosy and fragrant –
fruit
. I can smell strawberries. Firelight sparkles on the tiny silver Wolfe logo on his chest.

He looks stunning and intent, his gaze liquid heat. He walks over, swivels the glasses upright and crushes the strawberries into them. With the same hand he pops the champagne and pours some on top. Pink foam froths over, the liquid gleaming a deep, fragrant rose where the firelight glints through. He passes me one and tops it up from the bottle.

As we chink glasses I relax into a lazy, seductive smile.

He holds my gaze, his glance calm. ‘Now tell me what’s going on.’

My smile slowly fades. ‘What do you mean?’

He sits beside me, his jaw tense. ‘You’re keeping something back.’ He takes a long swig of his drink and then sets down his glass. ‘You talked to my parents an awful lot.’

‘Only since Lydia’s collapse.’ I hold his gaze. ‘I’m trying to help.’
And I have to do it my own way.
‘I’m trying to find out what happened to you. And to do that I have to find out what happened to them
.
’

After a moment he raises his glass. ‘You’re not drinking.’

I touch my glass to his and keep my voice low. ‘Why can’t you ever trust me? I just wanted to help and I was sure you’d say no. If you must know, I was scared you’d freak too.’

He eyes me steadily for a moment and then nods. ‘OK, Ella, I believe you. Anyway, I’ve no time to freak.’ He refills his glass. ‘I’m leaving in a week or two
.
Business.’

‘
What?
’ I stare at him. ‘You could have told me.’

‘I am telling you.’

Touché.
I glare at him. ‘Where are you going?’

‘I can’t tell you that.’

‘Why not?’

‘I can’t tell you that either. Look, Ella –’

I spring to my feet and jab my glass down on the side-table. Frothy liquid splashes out and drips onto the rug. My temper flares as the lazy, firelight sex-session I was looking forward to turns into a prickly question-and-answer grilling … and now he’s
leaving
?

‘That’s unfair. You make out I’m deceitful when I’m only trying to help and then you refuse to say where you’re going. Why? I’m not a child. I want to know.’

Now he’s on his feet too. ‘Calm down. If you’re not a child then stop acting like one. I’d tell you if I could. I’m just trying to keep you safe.’

I’m shouting now. ‘From
what
? Safe from
what,
Darnley? You’re paranoid. Trust takes two.’ Angrily I head for the stairs.

‘Ella. Please don’t do this.’

I ignore him as he calls after me. Something in his voice catches at my heart but I’ve had an emotional overload recently and far more to drink than I should. I slam my door and lean against it, gasping air like I’ve run a race.

My temper cools as quickly as it flared. All around me the house is silent and still.

What’s he doing?

There’s no sound from below, no footsteps, no music. Fear steals through me like ice.

He’s leaving soon. When he does I may not see him for weeks. Maybe months.

What have I done?

Miserably I start to get ready for bed. Maybe I’ll catch him in the morning. I reach for my short satin robe, knot the sash and head for my en-suite. A brisk wash restores me a little. As I start on my teeth I feel a movement in the air behind me as fabric brushes the backs of my thighs.

I stare at the mirror, my mouth frothing with toothpaste. From the mirror Darnley’s looking back at me, his expression stern.

A frisson runs through me, part fear and part dismay. Gently but firmly he prises the toothbrush out of my hand and bends me over the sink. His hand feels hot and strong on the nape of my neck.

‘
Rinse
.’

I do it, tiny hairs rising all over my back. Still holding me down, he splashes a handful of cold water over my mouth to wash off the foam. Instantly he hauls me back up, spins me round and fastens his mouth on mine in a full-on invasion of power and greed.

When he pulls away I stare up at him in shock, still breathless. ‘What are you doing? You’re scaring me.’

His eyes glitter in the bright lights of my en-suite. ‘If I have to leave without warning, or without telling you every damn thing about it, then that’s what I do. Deal with it. If I say it’s safer this way then it is.’

He tilts my chin up to face him, his eyes glinting. ‘Dammit, Ella.’ He finds my mouth again, his lips fierce, his tongue hot. ‘Now get yourself ready. We’ve got things to do.’

‘At this hour? What?’

He smiles patiently, like I’m a forgetful child. ‘What do you think?’ Slowly he unfastens the bracelets and takes something heavy out of his pocket. It clanks as he moves it, swinging it free. In the harsh light bouncing back off the tiles I see the cold, bright gleam of industrial-grade steel.

Handcuffs.

He fastens them slowly, taking his time. He makes me kneel while he does it, holding my hands up like they’re in prayer, and leads me out to the bedroom. He dims the lights to a deep, romantic glow. ‘Soon I’m going to South America. And this time it’s part work, part family. I’m playing Santa. Or maybe Cupid. If I’m lucky I’ll get back alive. If I’m even luckier I’ll still be in one piece.’

My stomach clenches in alarm. ‘Are Cola’s people –
dangerous
?’

He motions me to climb onto the bed and kneel in the middle. I wait for him to fasten the other end of the cuff to the rail but instead he leaves it swinging loose. The loose end knocks against me, the metal hard and cold on my ribcage.

‘It’s not her family I’m going to see. It’s her boyfriend’s people
.’

‘The Harvard professor?’

‘That’s the one. Nice guy, by all accounts. But I gather he avoids his family. With good reason.’

He glances down at me, his skin gleaming softly in the low light. He looks sensational. ‘And if you keep looking at me like that you’ll make it very hard for me to go at all. Keep your eyes down.’

Hurriedly I look away, but not before I see him smile.

At least he’s still playing.

‘Is their feud that bad?’

‘Possibly. It goes back a while. Some property dispute. But now’s a good time to talk to them. I’ll be doing a lot of business out there.’

I shiver. ‘Why do you have to get involved?
Is it worth the risk?’

He touches a finger to my lips. ‘Hush. It’s all fixed. That’s what I was finalising today. And, remember, say nothing. You want me to trust you? Fine. We’ll start now.’ He leans down and kisses me on the forehead. ‘And now we’re on Wolfe Time.’

He captures my mouth again, and this time he lingers, his tongue surging into me in a power-play greeting all about invasion and control. I sense it’s also urgent. At last he pulls away with a gleam and kneels up before me, his erection jutting in my face. ‘Please, Ella.’

I taste gently, resisting the urge to take him in my mouth too soon and too fast. The glow in his eyes as I do this tells me he approves, so I work down further, letting my eager saliva coat him with my welcome until his sturdy column gleams wetly.

‘Deeper now. Go easy.’

I do it, but the angle is awkward and the cuff clanks against my soft skin. ‘Do I have to have my wrists as tight as this?’

His eyes flash steel and now I feel a twinge of fear. He lowers his face to mine, his look stern. ‘Yes. Any more questions?’

Something in his tone warns me into silence. This is part play, but partly something else. He’s had a rough ride these last few weeks, stirring up things he’d sooner forget. Now he’s feeling the aftershock.

Do it. Whatever he wants.

‘Lean on your elbows and stick out your ass. Keep your hands in the air. I want to see them.’

His voice is husky now. We’re getting closer to it, whatever it is he needs. As he shifts around to kneel up behind me I shudder with pleasure as I feel him touch my flanks. He runs his hands all along my sides, from the heavy bulge of my breasts, into the dip of my waist and then out again, sliding in soft curving caresses over the swell of my rump.

‘Open your legs. Wider.’ He reaches underneath me and finds my heavy, jutting nipples, already stiffening at his touch. He keeps one hand firmly in place over them and the other lands with a hard slap on my backside, followed by another, and another.

Each blow sends a jolt of arousal straight to my groin. I long for him to touch my sex. I swear I’ll come the second he does. Cruelly he holds off, his fingers easing instead over the soft skin of my inner thighs.

I resist the urge to cry out. After a few more stinging blows he pauses to caress me, then plunges inside, hotter and harder than ever before.

‘Are you close?’ His harsh whisper makes me shiver.

‘Do I have to tell you? Yes. Very.’

‘Good.’ He chuckles, riding me slower now, but I’m uneasy. Something about the way he says this is harsh, unnatural.
He’s doing this differently
… He pulls out of me, leaving me gasping.

My belly yearns for him, reluctant to lose him, desperate for fulfilment. Everywhere down south burns in frustration. I dart him a furious glance over my shoulder.

‘Keep your eyes down. We’re not done.’ His voice is still low, his tone cold, almost mechanical.

He shifts round to the front again and faces me. His expression is tense, his eyes solemn.

‘Stroke me. With your hands tight together, like that.’

Surprised, I do it, thrilling to his size. I watch my pale hands sliding up and down, up and down …

Above me I hear him groan, and then his breath starts to catch. Nervously I look up. He’s holding one hand over his eyes. The other is resting on my head, willing me on.
But something’s wrong.

As I hesitate, his breath catches again and I hear him murmur, his voice low and harsh. ‘Keep moving. Don’t stop.’

But now I’m scared. His skin has a faint sheen of sweat.
And
he’s gazing ahead, like I’m not even here.

‘Darnley?’ He says nothing so I speed up my stroke, trying hard to ignore my own burning, urgent arousal. I need to stay rational if I’m to help him. He’s huge now, his column dark and bulging.
Perfect.

I long to kiss it, to tease him like he’s teased me. I want it so much I feel sweat prickle all over me. With an effort I resist the temptation to touch him any more than he’s asked. Something tells me now’s not the time.