Melting Ms Frost (22 page)

He didn’t react to any of it, didn’t fuss. Just popped an olive into his mouth and spoke around it. ‘You’d be good at it. There’s always a demand for quality places in London.’

‘Oh, no. Not London. I’d like a place in the country.’

Now that did surprise him. Her carefully cultivated appearance was pure city girl – sleek and urbane. ‘I didn’t have you down as a bumpkin, Annabel.’

She went for another pinch of bread. ‘It was where I grew up,’ she said as she dipped in the oil. ‘My parents owned a country inn.’

And then she’d lost her father, lost whatever that childhood had been. It made sense that she’d be drawn to something similar, maybe try to recreate something of what she’d lost. He studiously avoided asking about any of the things he really wanted to know about her past. ‘Sounds fun. And you got to help out?’

She finished chewing and nodded. Another small smile played on her lips, but he knew this one wasn’t for him. This faint trace of a curve was for the play of memories only she could see. ‘I got to get in the way a lot. My father was a chef, Mum covered front of house and the accommodation. I was always running around. It was fun – busy, warm, always full of life …’

Her words trailed off and he saw a hint of sadness creep into those green eyes. Then she blinked and the shutters slammed down as she came back to herself. Sent him a wary look.

‘You’re doing fine, Annabel,’ was all he said, even though he wanted to tell her that it sounded like she’d lost a lot, even though he wanted to gather her in his arms and make her forget about everything but him. Now.

‘I don’t …’ she started and stalled. Reaching for her glass, she took a swallow of water. ‘I don’t like talking about myself.’

‘I already know that,
a mhuirnín
. What I don’t understand is why not?’

He could see her jaw beginning to set, knew she was preparing to retreat. ‘I just prefer to keep my personal things private. I don’t see why that’s such an issue.’

Now that was the sort of non-answer he
was
prepared to push on. ‘Listen to me.’ He leant forward and rested his arms on the table. ‘It is an issue, and whether you get past it now or try to hold out is up to you. Just be aware that when I do finally get my hands on you, you’re going to be stripped bare, body and soul.’ He kept his tone calm but let her see the resolve in his eyes. ‘When I take you for the first time you’re going to find I’m buried so deep in every part of you that there’ll be nothing personal or private left.’

He saw her breath catch at the explicit image his words drew, but she wasn’t happy with the attached conditions. ‘Listen to you? Why should I, when you won’t listen to me?’

‘I am listening, Annabel,’ he said patiently. ‘The trouble is that you’re hardly saying anything at all.’

She gasped in outrage. ‘That just proves my point. I’ve been saying plenty. Right from the start. You just choose to ignore it and carry on demanding that everything happens your way.’

His gaze rested on the pulse point at the base of her throat, showing him how agitated she was getting. While he wanted her a little hot under the collar, and more likely to let slip her guard, he didn’t want this to escalate into a full-out argument. Not with what he was planning next. He calmed his voice and leant back in his chair. ‘So tell me now. What it is that scares you so much about letting me get close? Why are you so afraid to trust yourself in this?’

‘Me?’ Her eyes went wide with disbelief and she snorted. ‘You’re joking. You’re the one who keeps insisting that I hand over complete control. It’s not myself I don’t trust.’

‘Oh, but I’m afraid it is. You can’t begin to trust me, or anyone else for that matter, until you learn to trust yourself. It’s your own self-doubt that’s keeping you locked up. Why is that? What do you fear will happen if you let me get past those defences?’

He’d obviously struck too close for Annabel’s comfort.

‘That I’ll be trapped for eternity having to listen to you drone on and on.’ The sarcasm dripping from her answer left no doubt that she was trying to deflect him.

‘Do you actually do anything but talk?’

Aidan looked at her for a long moment, those pale eyes piercing into her and the merest hint of amusement kicking up one corner of his mouth. She sat, breathless, waiting to see if she’d pushed him into action. Seriously, couldn’t the man just shut up and kiss her?

‘Keep speaking to me like that, Ms Frost, and you’ll find out exactly what I can do.’ His voice had taken on a growling quality that brushed against her nerve endings. ‘But not before time. Now, stop trying to push me away and tell me, what are you so afraid of?’

She didn’t bother to try to hide her sigh. So, no action then. Just more talking.

‘Who says I’m afraid of anything?’

‘I do. Everyone’s afraid of something.’

‘Even you?’ He’d left himself wide open with that. Let him see how he liked to be challenged.

He frowned as though he thought the question strange. ‘Of course me,’ he admitted easily.

Oh. Did he mean that? ‘So if we’re sharing it’s only fair that you tell me what you’re afraid of.’

He didn’t miss a beat. ‘I thought that was obvious? That we won’t ever reach that place of trust we need to be in for me to touch you like you need to be touched. I’m afraid that you won’t ever let me get close enough to know you.’

She was taken aback by the sincerity, his earnestness. He sat there looking at her. Looking at her and waiting.

He’d given her an answer and now he wanted one in return. And Annabel suspected he’d wait all night to get it if he had to. She might as well save them both the inter-minable bother. If he could be honest, so could she. It wasn’t like she didn’t have a considerable list of Aidan-Flynn-inspired fears to choose from.

‘I’m afraid of giving you any more control. I don’t like the idea of you making me do things I don’t want to do.’ Well, any
more
things, allowing for what he’d already made her do.

‘But I can’t. You wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want to do.’ He frowned for a moment then his expression cleared. ‘Maybe that’s what’s really scaring you.’

She shifted uncomfortably in her chair as that possibility sank in. Maybe.

Sitting forward again, Aidan pushed his plate to one side and folded his arms on the table, the snug-fitting top making it obvious that not only did he have the sexiest forearms she’d ever seen, but that the leanly defined strength carried on all the way up to some pretty stunning biceps, too.

‘Annabel, we said no more games, so here it is. Neither of us is trying to deny the obvious attraction we have for each other. And I don’t think there’s any doubt that we both want this thing between us to end in a sweaty heap of satisfaction. The only problem we have is agreeing on how to get there, and how to make the most of the journey. And that comes back to trust.

‘You are afraid. And that’s OK, as long as you don’t let the fear rule you. And the only way to get past fear is to face it. Take a risk. With that in mind, will you let me try something, here, now?’

‘Try what?’ She eyed him with caution.

He pushed to his feet and walked to open one of the drawers set into the base of the kitchen island. He held up another of the white linen napkins, letting the pressed folds fall open.

‘Will you let me blindfold you?’

Annabel grabbed the edge of the table with both hands as the room seemed to tilt around her. ‘No way.’

‘And now that you’ve got that entirely predictable knee-jerk reaction out of your system,’ Aidan said, coming back to the table but choosing the chair directly opposite her this time, instead of taking the one he’d originally occupied, ‘will you tell me why not?’

‘Because I’m not stupid?’

‘No. Far from it.’ He laid the napkin out on the table in front of him and folded it in half lengthways. ‘So why not?’

She cast around for a more solid reason. ‘I hardly even know you!’ She couldn’t drag her gaze away from where his hands, those deft fingers, folded the thickly woven, restaurant-quality napkin a second time.

‘You know enough, Annabel,’ he said quietly, his hands stilling. ‘Do you think I’m going to hurt you?’

She looked up into his face. Into the translucent depths of those silvery eyes that threatened to steal so much from her. She’d be the worst kind of fool not to acknowledge that he was a danger to her wellbeing, capable of causing her considerable hurt if she wasn’t careful, but not in the physical sense he meant.

‘No. But it’s still asking too much.’

‘Is it?’ He tilted his head a little to the side as he watched her. ‘Even though you just jumped on the back of my bike and entrusted your life to me? Because the way I see it, nearly a third of a tonne of high-powered metal speeding down rain-slicked roads presented way more of a threat to you than a square of soft linen.’

She hadn’t thought about it like that. ‘That was different.’

‘Yes and no.’ He put a final fold into the napkin, smoothing the long, narrow length before sliding it to one side and looking at her again. ‘It’s still about trust. And as you’ve now proved that you can put your trust in me – because you’ve already, although apparently unwittingly, done so – then all that’s left to prove is whether you trust yourself.’

Annabel felt her eyes narrow as she tried to keep up with his reasoning but the bottom line was, it didn’t matter how he’d reached his conclusion. He’d challenged her to prove herself and her pride wouldn’t allow her to leave that unanswered.

Her heart rate exploded into a frantic rhythm as she reached across the table and snagged the end of the makeshift blindfold to pull it towards her.

Picking it up by both ends, she looked pointedly at Aidan Flynn. ‘This is me trusting myself,’ she told him, raising the folded strip of linen and placing it over her eyes. She tied a knot at the back of her head and then brought her hands down to rest against the edge of the table. Forced herself to sit still, to appear calm.

The echo of her own breathing resonated in her head, making her realise that the blindfold had covered her ears as well as her eyes. She strained to pick up any hint of noise from beyond her dark, muffled world, but as the moments ticked by there was nothing but the rush of breath growing louder, faster.

She actually jumped when Aidan spoke at last. ‘You can remove it any time you need to,’ he said with gravity, and Annabel’s sense of hearing instantly locked on the sound. ‘And if at any point you find that you don’t like what’s happening, you can tell me to stop and I will. You have my word on that.’

She heard the rustle of his clothing as he moved, sat frozen and tried to calm her breathing so she could keep track of his whereabouts. Calming anything became impossible as she heard him approach and come to stand directly behind her.

‘You have all the power in this.’ His voice suddenly beside her linen-covered ear made her flinch. ‘You always have had, whether you realise it or not, and that won’t change.’

She didn’t feel like she had the power. She felt like she’d lost all control, felt small and vulnerable. There was a scrape as the chair beside her was repositioned, the grating sound making her fingertips dig into the table top.

Then she felt the pressure of his grip closing on the back of the chair she sat in. ‘I’d like you to let go of the table,
a mhuirnín
. I’m going to swing you part way around so I can see you better.’

It wasn’t an easy thing to do, give up the touch anchoring her to her surroundings. But then nothing Aidan Flynn wanted was easy. As soon as she loosened her grip, the chair beneath her began to move, and she grabbed onto the sides of the seat instead to keep her balance.

She felt even more vulnerable when she followed the sound of his movements around to the front of her. There was no barrier between them now. She felt exposed. Especially when he made no noise of any sort for over a minute.

She strained to try to pick up any sound that would give her a clue as to what he was doing, but there was nothing. The utter silence was unnerving. Was she sure he was even still there?

‘Aidan?’ she asked when she couldn’t stand it a second longer.

‘Yes, Annabel?’ he answered from not far away.

‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m looking at you. Taking my time to study every inch of you in detail.’

She shifted self-consciously, pressing her legs together.

‘How does that make you feel? Knowing I’m looking at you, when you can’t see me?’

It made her feel prickly all over as she tried to imagine which part of her his gaze was on. She shifted on the chair again but couldn’t bring herself to answer.

‘It’s amazing how losing your sight heightens all the other senses, don’t you think?’ he said, his voice starting to move away to one side. ‘Everything becomes so much more acute. Touch, taste – sound.’

She started as a soft mechanical whirring filled the air around her.

‘Don’t worry, it’s just the automated blinds going down on the windows. I thought you might like a bit of privacy from my neighbours. I know I don’t want to share you.’

His words sent a thrill through her. What were they going to be doing that required privacy? God, please let him get around to touching her at last. Surely this must be sufficient demonstration of her readiness?

‘Something similar happens with trust and surrender. Giving up something of yourself to your partner intensifies the emotional and physical bond and amplifies the pleasure. Let’s see how far we can stretch this new trust between us, right now.’ His voice came close again, closer than before, drew down level with her face. ‘I want to look at more of you, Annabel. Will you let me undo your shirt so I can do that?’

She swallowed. Gripped the sides of the chair. Nodded.

She heard him move, felt his touch alight on her shirt, fingers undoing one button at a time with such a lightness of touch that all she could feel was her shirt brushing against her skin like butterfly wings. She shivered at the sensation, at the feel of the fabric parting bit by bit and the slide of her shirt tails being pulled gently from her waistband. Tried not to pant as Aidan reached the end, undoing the last button and pushing the shirt open to her shoulders.