His Forbidden Passion (16 page)
‘But how could you think that?’ Dominic was struggling not to allow the feeling of euphoria that was building inside him to take control. ‘You saw what happened between me and Sarah. Dammit, you must have heard something when you were hiding out in the bushes beneath my deck.’
‘I wasn’t hiding out in the bushes,’ murmured Cleo unhappily. She shook her head. ‘Oh—I’m no good at this at all.’
‘You’re better than me,’ muttered Dominic, half turning in his seat towards her. ‘I should have known Jacob’s sudden frailty was too convenient. I guess he knows how weak and vulnerable I am.’
Dominic, weak and vulnerable?
Cleo didn’t believe it. His brooding profile was very dear, but also very remote.
She wanted to reach out to him; to plunge her fingers into the silky dampness of his hair; to cradle his solemn face between her palms and make him see that her life wouldn’t be worth living if he wasn’t in it.
But she wasn’t that courageous.
There was silence for a long time and then Dominic said softly, ‘So you came back because my mother put the fear of God into you.’
‘No.’ Cleo held up her head. ‘I came back because she convinced me you needed me.’
‘And do you still think I do?’
‘I don’t know what to think,’ she confessed huskily. ‘But—but now I’ve seen you—’
‘Yes?’
‘—I think she might have had a point.’
Dominic grimaced. ‘I look that bad, hmm?’
And suddenly, she couldn’t take any more.
Uncaring what he thought, she reached out and grabbed the hair at the back of his neck, jerking him towards her. Then she recklessly pressed her mouth to his.
It was the first time she’d ever done such a thing, but she knew she had to do something to break through his iron control.
And, although his lips were only warm to begin with, they quickly heated beneath the sensuous pressure of hers.
She heard Dominic utter a savage protest, but the chemistry between them was undeniable. Despite any lingering resentment he might feel because of her prolonged absence, the instantaneous hunger of his own response made any kind of resistance futile.
‘Dammit, Cleo,’ he said hoarsely, and then his hands came almost convulsively to grip her shoulders, and he took control of the kiss.
Crushing her back against the leather squabs, he angled his mouth so that he could plunder the sweet cavity of hers with his tongue.
Her tongue came to meet his, a writhing, sensuous mating that gave as much as it took. And Dominic felt the anger he’d been nurturing all these weeks dissolving beneath the delicious vulnerability of her warm body.
Cleo’s own relief was overwhelming. She’d been so afraid he wouldn’t forgive her. Winding her arms about his neck, she pressed herself as close as the central console would allow.
But it wasn’t close enough.
Finding the collar of his jacket, she pushed it off his shoulders, relieved to find that his skin was now much warmer to her touch. But she wanted to be even nearer and her fingers fumbled frantically with the buttons on his shirt.
Dominic sucked in a tortured breath when he felt her hands on his body, and his mouth dived urgently for the sensitive curve of her neck.
He felt hungry, feverish, and when she gave a little moan of pleasure he felt his own needs threatening to explode inside him.
‘We have got to get out of here,’ he muttered, covering her face with hot, addictive kisses. His hands slid down her arms to find the provocative thrust of her breasts, and he longed to tear the T-shirt over her head.
He wanted to touch her, much more intimately than their
present situation would allow. And, although right now he was crazy enough not to care, she meant so much more to him than a tumble in the back seat of his grandfather’s car.
Pushing her back into the seat, he shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it into the back seat. Suddenly he was sweating, and it was such a good feeling.
‘Where are we going?’ asked Cleo, half-afraid he was going to take her to Magnolia Hill, and Dominic gave her a wry look as he started the car.
‘Well, not to see your grandfather,’ he said a little ruefully. ‘The old devil can stew for a bit longer.’
‘What do you mean?’
Cleo looked at him, her dark brows raised, and Dominic’s foot pressed harder on the accelerator.
‘He knew what he was doing when he asked me to come and meet you,’ he said drily. ‘He swore he was too tired to make the trip himself. And Serena was conveniently absent.’
‘And did you mind?’
‘Yes, I minded,’ said Dominic honestly. ‘He knew how I felt about you, and I couldn’t conceive of any way you might want to see me again.’
‘Dominic!’
‘It’s true.’ He grimaced. ‘I thought you’d come back because of something my mother had said. And I didn’t want your—pity.’
‘My pity!’ Cleo caught her breath. ‘Oh, darling…’
Dominic let out a tortured breath. ‘Anyway, naturally he didn’t want to ask Lily again, so—I was his only option. Or so he said.’
‘Thank God!’
Cleo’s response was fervent and, spreading her fingers over his thigh, she squeezed provocatively.
Dominic almost choked then. ‘Please,’ he said hoarsely, ‘don’t do that.’
‘Why?’ Cleo’s smile was mischievous. ‘Don’t you like it?’
‘I’ll answer that when we get to Turtle Cove,’ said Dominic,
his look promising a delicious retribution, and Cleo shivered in delight.
The journey seemed to take forever. But at last Dominic turned between the stone gates that marked the extent of his property and drove swiftly up to the house.
They left the car on the forecourt, where a fountain sparkled brilliantly in the late-afternoon sun. But even before they reached the entry, Cleo was in Dominic’s arms.
Ambrose, Dominic’s houseman, appeared briefly in the open doorway, but he quickly made himself scarce. He could see his employer had everything he wanted for the moment, and his smile was a sign of his satisfaction, too.
They paused in the foyer only long enough for Dominic to haul Cleo’s T-shirt over her head and to shed his own shirt. Then with his mouth still on hers they stumbled along the corridor to his bedroom.
Cleo thought it was odd seeing the place in daylight, but it was just as beautiful as she remembered. Dominic was just as beautiful, too, and her head swam as, between more of those soul-draining kisses, they peeled one another’s clothes off.
Then he tumbled her onto the bed, and she felt his hot, aroused body between her legs.
‘I want you—so much,’ he muttered in a husky, impassioned voice.
And with her body throbbing with the uncontrolled hunger only he could assuage, Cleo gave herself up to the physical needs of passion…
C
LEO’S
hair was still damp.
A silky strand was lying on the pillow beside Dominic’s head and he coiled it round his finger.
It was so dark; even darker than his own, with a bluish tinge that gave it a lustrous vitality. It was so essentially her, and he loved it.
He loved everything about her, he thought, bringing the strand of hair to his lips. He inhaled, smelling his shampoo, and he liked the intimacy of that, too.
After their first frantic coupling, they’d taken a shower together. And he’d delighted in soaping her hair and her body, in covering every inch of her skin with his scent.
But, despite the smell of expensive lotions, he could still smell himself on her, and that pleased him.
It was hardly surprising, after all. Rubbing his hands all over her had aroused them both once again, and they’d made love beneath the cooling spray of water. He had pinned Cleo against the wall of the cubicle, and she’d wound her legs around his hips.
Amazingly, they’d made love again when they’d got back into bed. Dominic hadn’t known he had it in him, but just thinking of making love with Cleo made him harden with desire.
She was the woman he loved, his soulmate; and he was
never going to let her go. They belonged together; they always had. And he could even feel grateful to his grandfather: without the old man’s intervention, he might never have known her.
Cleo was sleeping now.
She was probably exhausted, he reflected. He was pretty tired, too. But he didn’t want to miss a minute of the bliss in knowing they were together at last. He’d have plenty of time for sleep when they were married.
Married!
Cleo Montoya. He experimented with the name. Mrs Dominic Montoya. Yeah, that sounded really good.
It was getting dark outside, but he hadn’t bothered to close the curtains. If anyone—his mother, Serena or his grandfather—chose to come and peer in at his windows, he really didn’t care. He had nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of. He and Cleo were a couple.
And how amazing was that!
He stirred and Cleo’s eyes flickered. Long, silky lashes lifted, and then she turned her head and encountered his gaze.
‘What time is it?’ she asked sleepily, and Dominic pulled her closer.
‘About six,’ he said softly. ‘Are you hungry? I can have Ambrose fix us something to eat.’
Cleo’s lips parted, and a dreamy expression entered her eyes. ‘Is this really happening?’ she whispered. ‘Are we really together? This isn’t just a dream, is it?’
‘If it is, I’m having the same dream,’ said Dominic, nuzzling her shoulder. ‘No, sweetheart, it’s not a dream. You’re here, at Turtle Cove. In my bed.’
‘Hmm, I like that,’ she murmured, loving the feel of his stubble against her skin. ‘But I suppose I’ll have to go and see…
our
…grandfather. He must be wondering what’s going on.’
‘Oh, I think he has a fair idea,’ said Dominic drily. ‘I must have convinced all of them that I was in love with you. Why else would my mother have swallowed her pride and gone to see you?’
‘Do you think he was worried?’ asked Cleo anxiously. ‘I wouldn’t like to think I was to blame for any relapse in his condition.’
Dominic grinned. ‘If Grandpa was worried, it was only over his part in the situation,’ he said firmly. ‘He was so sure you’d realise what you were giving up—financially, I mean—and come back.’
‘But I never wanted his money!’
‘Well, he knows that now,’ agreed Dominic. ‘And I dare say it did him good to sweat for a while.’
Cleo hesitated. ‘But he is all right, isn’t he?’
‘He’s OK.’ Dominic was reflective. ‘No one really knows how his condition will develop.’
Cleo drew a trembling breath. ‘Well, I’m glad I’m going to see him again. I realised—I’m very fond of him.’
‘That’s good to know.’ Dominic’s eyes darkened. ‘And how about me?’
Cleo gazed at him with her heart in her eyes. ‘You know I love you,’ she breathed. ‘So much. That was why I had to go away. I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing you and Sarah together.’
Dominic deposited a kiss on her nose. ‘There was no way I could have married Sarah feeling as I do about you,’ he said solemnly.
‘No, but there were so many similarities between our relationship and that of my mother and father. I was afraid of what might happen next.’
‘That you might get pregnant? You’re not, are you?’ he asked, raising his brows, and she giggled.
‘Not yet,’ she conceded, happily, and he pulled a wry face.
‘Well, that’s OK, I guess,’ he said after a moment. ‘I would like to have you to myself for a little while first.’
Cleo touched his cheek. ‘I don’t deserve you.’
‘No.’ Dominic grinned. ‘But I’ll forgive you.’
There was silence in the room for a few delicious moments and then Cleo stirred again.
‘You know,’ she said softly, ‘Lily told me that Celeste was really her half-sister. Did you know that?’
‘Hell, no!’ Dominic was amused. ‘Well, what do you know? My maternal grandfather wasn’t as uptight as he liked people to think.’
Cleo nodded. ‘Your mother said that my father wasn’t the first male to be infatuated with the Dubois women.’
‘And he’s not the last,’ Dominic reminded her staunchly. He bent and nipped the corner of her mouth with his teeth. ‘Don’t forget, you’re a Dubois, too.’
‘I haven’t forgotten.’
‘But there is a difference,’ said Dominic, frowning, and Cleo felt a twinge of apprehension.
‘What kind of a difference?’
‘Well, I’m going to have the distinction of marrying a Dubois woman, if she’ll have me.’
He touched her lips with his thumb. ‘Will you have me, Cleo? Will you complete the circle and become my wife?’
And, of course, Cleo said yes.
All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
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First published in Great Britain 2009
Harlequin Mills & Boon Limited,
Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
© Anne Mather 2009
ISBN: 978-1-4089-1308-6