Harlequin KISS August 2014 Bundle (72 page)

Not so much as a flicker. Instead she felt heady, exhilarated.
As if she could swim the Channel doing the butterfly stroke.

Her lips curved upward as she braced her palms against his chest, felt the pounding of his heart beneath her fingers.

‘Good,’ she whispered. ‘Because I don’t want you to stop.’

In one lithe movement he stood up, and she wrapped her legs around the solidness of his waist, entwined her arms round his neck as he strode towards
the sliding door leading back inside the villa.

She pressed her lips against his, desperate for another of his blissful kisses. Their tongues danced, the tempo increasing as they wended their way through the lounge. Olivia was faintly aware of knick-knacks tumbling in their wake as Adam bumped into a laden table.

They entered the bedroom and Adam halted; Olivia slid down his body and
stared up at him, senses awhirl.

She stepped backwards, caught a glimpse of her reflection in the ornate gold-framed mirror. Eyes wide, pupils dilated, a fine sheen of desire glistening in her skin.

She wanted him.

A tight knot of anticipation tangled her tummy up as she slipped her dress off so it fell in a tangerine pool to the floor. She stood in front of him. Just her. Olivia
Evans. Completely and utterly naked.

Mouth parched, she licked her lips as her throat clogged in sudden vulnerability. ‘Adam...?’

The predatory glint in his eyes as they raked over her said it all. Had more of an effect—she felt hot and squirmy and exultant.

Careful, Olivia. Any beautiful woman standing here would make him react like this.

Really, Liv? You really believe that?

No, she didn’t.
Because the point was that it
wasn’t
any woman standing here. It was her.

‘Liv. You are gorgeous.’

He skimmed the back of his finger along her collarbone, followed the curve of her breast until it reached her tight nipple. One soft caress, one light flick with the pad of his thumb, and an electric flash of heat jolted through her body, turning her legs to jelly.

‘So beautiful,’ he murmured, and for the first time in her life she was glad of it. Wanted to be beautiful, to give pleasure.

‘Tell me what you want,’ Adam rumbled, the dark chocolate of his voice strumming her skin.

And suddenly it was all so simple ‘I want
you
,’ she said, and buzzed with exhilaration at the sinful smile that curved his lips and lit his eyes. ‘Naked.’

‘That’s
easily arranged.’ He crossed his arms, his fingers gripped the bottom edge of his T-shirt and he tugged it over his head.

His chest was perfection: sculpted muscle with a light smattering of hair arrowing down over ripped abs, pointing in a sexy vee towards the ridge in his pants.

‘Keep going,’ she breathed.

‘Patience,’ he admonished in a mock growl, before deftly shucking off his
shorts and boxers and kicking them unceremoniously to one side.

Holy Moly.
Adam was...
magnificent
, was one adjective.
Bloody enormous
would be two.

Mine.

For this night Adam was
hers
.

Her skin felt taut with a yearning to be touched, but her greedy fingers were more interested in him and she wanted to stroke and caress and explore every inch of his muscular glory.

His
chest felt hard under her fingertips, and when she smoothed her palms over his hot skin Adam reciprocated, cupping the weight of her breast in his palm, his thumb circling her nipple. Olivia whimpered for more.

Suddenly the backs of her knees hit the edge of the bed and Adam coaxed her down; her back hit the satin coverlet and she looked up at him, braced above her. His palms were either
side of her head, his brown eyes so completely focused on her that she shivered from head to foot.

Rolling onto his side, he tiptoed his fingers across her sternum, over her tummy and downward, his eyes hot and heavy with delicious intent as they reached the very heart of her.

His fingers circled and teased and tantalised until she was burning for him, and when he finally slipped inside
her she clenched around his fingers. ‘Please, Adam,’ she breathed, begging him to end the torment.

At her words his erection nudged her thigh and she reached out to span and stroke the velvety thick length of him. He groaned long and low as she slid her hand to the tip of his hardness, circled the satiny head and glossed over the bead of moisture she found there. He felt amazing.

‘You’re
killing me, Liv,’ he gasped.

Not as much as he was killing her.

Olivia undulated on the bed, raised her hips, questing, needing release with a painful intensity as his skilful provoking ministrations pulled her to the brink and back; the pleasure was so excruciating her breath caught in her throat.

Then finally, with one, two, three deft strokes, he found her sweet spot and she
cried out, shattered as she clenched around him in release.

It could have been seconds, it could have been minutes before she floated back down to earth to find him watching her, a thoroughly satisfied smile tilting his lips. She stroked his cheek, unable to think of anything to say except thank you—which felt wholly inadequate.

‘That was incredible,’ she said.

‘That’s just the
starter,’ he said. ‘You’re in luck. It’s HOOGOF day.’

‘You’ve lost me.’

‘Have one orgasm, get one free,’ he murmured, and Olivia burst into a peal of laughter.

‘You want to take me up on it?’

‘Absolutely, I do.’ Hard to believe she could come again, but already her body tingled as he gently nudged her legs apart and knelt between them.

Adam lowered his head to kiss her
tummy, then trailed a path of butterfly kisses upwards until he reached her breasts, where he laved first one nipple then the next. Exquisite sensations shot through her, and Olivia gripped his shoulders and scored her nails down the gorgeous supple length of his back.

Waves of pleasure swirled deep inside her and she thrust upward, desperate to have him inside her.

She watched him fist
a condom down his length, his hands unsteady. ‘
Now
, Adam,’ she whispered.

Then he was braced above her, sliding that long, hard thickness inside her so slowly that every gorgeous inch sparked a new and building tension, creating a maelstrom of pleasure until she couldn’t bear it any more.

‘Please...’ she moaned, and he began to thrust faster, harder, the sensuous wonder so fierce Olivia
thought she’d pass out. Then they reached the apex and she shattered beneath him, crying out his name as she soared to release. Distantly she heard Adam’s deep, exultant roar and knew he’d followed her into the abyss.

* * *

Olivia opened her eyes to the lilting sound of birdsong and the knowledge that all was right in the world. A world where she lay cocooned in Adam’s strong embrace,
enclaved in a sanctuary of sheer bliss.

The night and the pre-dawn hours had fulfilled and exceeded any flight of fantasy, and had revealed to her a truth so blinding in its pure simplicity that she felt like an idiot for never realising it before.

Yet at a primal level she knew no one else could have shown her except Adam. He had demonstrated that a union of bodies was exactly that.
A union. She and Adam had given and taken, shared a mingling of mutual need and fulfilment, soared on the waves of ecstasy to achieve communion.

Nothing she had experienced before could be compared—no more than she would liken the flickering light of a nearly dead torch to the hot blaze of a desert sun.

Very gently she shifted, not wanting to wake Adam but consumed by the need to see
him, to study the planes and angles of his sleeping face. Too late; his eyes had opened and he surveyed her with drowsy, languorous contentment.

‘Hey,’ he said, and his sleep-roughened voice tugged her heart as he pulled the blanket over his head and pulled her back into the crook of his arm.

A sudden realisation shot through Olivia: she would never see him like this again. Dark hair
mussed from her fingers, bare, smooth skin available for her caress. Never again would Olivia experience the magic of their bodies’ union.

Zeb was arriving; the night was over. The portals of paradise were swinging closed and reality had to be faced. The irony of the situation struck her. A week ago all she had wanted was to locate Zeb Masterson. Now she wished she could put off his arrival
for just one more day.

But that wasn’t possible, so somehow she had to be all right. She’d known the rules—could hardly cavil now. Yet Adam had changed so much in her life. He’d smashed her notions of desire; he had shown her that a man could still desire a woman even if she didn’t look perfect all the time. That sex could be a beautiful, consensual act, and that a little bit of power play
could be fun. As long as there was trust.

That was it. Somehow over the past week she’d grown to trust him, to believe that he saw her as a unique individual and not a beautiful commodity.

And if he had changed
her
so fundamentally then maybe there was a chance that she had done the same for him. Turned his conveyor belt view of relationships topsy-turvy?

A furling tendril of hope
took root. Later, after they had seen Zeb, she would talk to Adam. After all, there was nothing to stop them from exploring their feelings. This baby could be a shared bond between them; it didn’t have to be a barrier.

Drowsily Olivia closed her eyes....

She woke later to the aroma of coffee teasing her nostrils and the realisation that Adam was no longer next to her.

No need to
panic.

Today was about meeting Zeb. It was time for her to put all these new burgeoning feelings aside and focus on the baby. No way could she tell Adam anything about her epiphany.
Yet.

THIRTEEN

Adam dropped
watermelon slices into the juicer and pushed the on button. Soon enough all these oddly domestic chores would end. No more preparing breakfast, or visiting the market for ingredients, or cooking with Olivia.

In fact reality dictated that within hours they might well be on their way back to the UK. Mission accomplished.

And it wasn’t only household
activities that would cease; there would be no more shared bedroom antics, either. His body gave a cold shiver that belied the blazing sunshine pouring through the open window. The shudder of protest was augmented by the fire of memory from the night before; his mind and body were still caught up in the flow and eddy of the most amazing sensual experience of his life.

He’d known that he and
Olivia had a spark; he’d failed to realise it would be an ember that lit flames so intense he doubted they would ever bank.

Whatever they had shared last night had transcended sex; there had been a connection, a mutual bond that sent a bolt of panic straight down his spine. Definitely time to call it a day. He’d waded into the pots and pans, scrubbed a few floors. and now it was time to play
the ‘I’m a billionaire, get me out of here’ card.

‘How do I look?’

Olivia’s soft voice broke his reverie and he turned from the kitchen counter.

His breath hitched in his throat; she was stunning.

She wore a fluorescent camisole top over white jeans, a jewelled clip held her hair in a knot on the top of her head, strawberry blonde tendrils escaped to frame her sun-kissed face.

A far cry from the muted dressed-in-grey girl who had arrived on Ko Lanta in her carefully chosen neutral outfit to meet Zeb.

This Olivia would meet Zeb on her own terms—as herself.

‘You look perfect,’ he said simply as he handed her a glass of smoothie.

‘Thank you.’ Sipping the vivid red drink, she shifted from foot to foot. ‘So where are we meeting him?’

‘Gan is taking
him to Saru’s bar. They should be getting there any minute now.’

‘How are you feeling?’ she asked.

A daft glow lit deep within him because she cared, even as instinct told him to dodge the question. This wasn’t about him, and nor did he want to discuss Zeb in arbitrary detail. This new in Zeb’s life should not be influenced by the old.

‘Fine,’ he said.

Her lips pouted in a
plump moue of disbelief. ‘I want to know how you’re
really
feeling.’

Trying not to focus on the mouth that had moved over his body with such devastating effect only hours ago, he hitched his shoulders. ‘I’m not feeling anything. Best not to with Zeb, because you never know what to expect.’

‘So there is no point having expectations?’ she said softly as she moved towards him, surrounded
him with a cloud of sheer Olivia. ‘Does he know we’re here?’

‘He knows
I’m
here. But that’s no guarantee that he’ll stick around. Zeb has a good nose for danger. He’ll suspect that it has to be something pretty big to get me out here waiting for him for a week. So the sooner we get to him the better. But first tell me how
you’re
feeling.’

‘Nervous. I hope with all my heart that Zeb will
step up and want to be a great father.’ She wrapped a stray tendril of hair around her finger. ‘But no matter what happens now, this week has been incredible.’

Suspicion pricked his thumbs; there was something in Olivia’s expressive eyes that initiated unease. Ridiculous. Adam shoved the brooding thought aside. They had an agreement: one night. Olivia knew and concurred with the rules—and
anyway she didn’t believe in love and wasn’t looking for a relationship.

Whatever bond had been formed would now be dissolved. Following this meeting with Zeb, he and Olivia would go their separate ways. If Zeb confirmed paternity then perhaps their paths would occasionally cross and the steeped banks of desire would give a little smoulder. But right now she deserved his support; she must
be anxious about Zeb.
That
was the vibe he was picking up.

‘Come on.’ He held out his hand and braced himself for the shock of impact. This was a grasp of friendship, nothing more. ‘Let’s do this.’

Her small decisive nod betokened determination and she slipped her hand into his.

A ten-minute Jeep drive brought them to their destination and after a brief beach walk they stepped out
of the bright morning sunlight into the cool interior of the bar. Adam scanned the room; only a few tables were occupied, and the muted hum of conversation blended with the low background beat of reggae music.

There was Zeb, and the familiar conflicted jumble of feelings knotted in Adam’s gut. The leaden knowledge that this was the man who had moulded him genetically and by nurture had made
him, for better or worse, into the man he was today. A massive chunk off the old block. Then there was gratitude that Zeb had done his duty, had swooped in to rescue Adam from the terror of the care system. And of course the thread of guilt that his father’s much wanted arrival had come at the cost of his mother’s death.

Too many emotions, added to the tumult of feelings generated by Olivia—who
was rigid by his side as she stared at Zeb.

‘Hey. It’s going to be all right. We can do this,’ he said, hoping it wasn’t the biggest lie ever.

‘OK...’ she whispered.

They walked towards the table and Zeb looked up, his brown eyes glinting from Adam and then resting on Olivia.

‘Adam. My boy. How’s the hotel business?’ The question was a standard one, the reply never listened
to. ‘More important, who is
this
?’ Zeb turned directly to Olivia and stroked his chin. ‘Whoever you are, you look familiar.’

‘This is Olivia,’ Adam said. ‘Olivia, this is Zeb.’

Olivia stepped forward and leant across the table. ‘I’m Jodie’s daughter.’

For an agonising second a pang of guilt by association burned Adam’s neck. He prayed that his father remembered Jodie—hadn’t dismissed
her from memory once she’d stepped off Zeb’s conveyor belt.

‘Hawaii,’ Adam prompted.

‘Of course.’ Zeb nodded. ‘Apologies, Olivia. Your mother seemed way too young to have a daughter your age, hence the confusion. Hawaii. What a wonderful place, as Adam can no doubt tell you. Sit down, both of you. I’m having a rather marvellous cocktail. Five days at sea on basic provisions, cleansing
my body and soul, and I feel ready for one of these. Can I get you one?’

‘No, thank you.’ Olivia’s opened her mouth to continue, her expression glazed; no doubt she was looking for a polite way to turn the conversation.

Before she could utter a word Zeb launched into a lecture on cocktails of the world. Adam recognised the tactic all too well. Heaven help him, it was a strategy
he
had
utilised in many a business meeting.

Behind the façade of bonhomie, even as his mouth poured forth a torrent of avuncular chat, Zeb’s brain would be working overtime. Assessing and discarding the possible reasons for Olivia’s presence in the same way he would evaluate the cards in a hand at a game of poker.

It was entirely feasible that any minute now Zeb would guess and quite simply
do a runner before Olivia could break the news.

Adam moved to sit at the table, positioning himself between Zeb and the door. He wouldn’t interfere in the conversation unless it became imperative, but neither would he let Zeb leave without being told about the baby.

After all, who knew? Maybe this time around Zeb would welcome impending fatherhood. Olivia’s optimism might be well founded;
no one was asking Zeb to be a single parent again. Olivia just wanted him to be a part of the baby’s life. Surely
that
wouldn’t cramp Zeb’s style?

‘So...’ Olivia managed, slipping onto the seat next to Adam. ‘Did you and my mother have any cocktails in Hawaii?’

‘Ah, yes. Hawaii. I got distracted. Definitely an excellent place to holiday.’

‘So
my mother
said.’

Zeb looked disconcerted,
but only for a second. ‘Indeed. And how
is
your beautiful mother? Do give her my best and...’

For goodness’ sake.

Impatience snapped within Adam and he opened his mouth to intervene just as Olivia leant forward and thumped the table. Her small fist caused the cocktail to give a little jump, its paper umbrella falling to the tabletop.

‘Jodie is pregnant,’ she stated. ‘And you’re
the father.’

Pallor stripped Zeb’s face of its tan and rendered it blotchy. With one abrupt move he snatched the glass and drained it, before signalling to Saru for another one.

‘Are you sure?’ he demanded, all trace of bluff joviality vanishing

‘Yes.’

‘So why isn’t Jodie here?’ Zeb asked.

‘Because she believes that you won’t want to know; she thinks it’s unfair to burden
you with a child you hadn’t bargained for.’

The colour returned to Zeb’s face, along with a smile that creased his eyes but didn’t reach it. ‘Your mother is a wise lady,’ he said.

As the impact of Zeb’s words smashed into him Adam shifted his chair closer to Olivia and laid a hand on her denim-clad thigh. Anger and sadness vied inside him; clearly being a father to Adam had changed nothing
for Zeb.

‘Yes, she is,’ Olivia said quietly. ‘But I still thought that you would want to know. That you’d want to be a part of your baby’s life.’

Saru brought the drink across; as he placed it in front of Zeb he shot Adam a quick glance. Instead of returning to the bar he sauntered towards the door, seemingly casually, effectively blocking Zeb’s exit.

‘It’s better if I’m not,’ Zeb
said. ‘I’m sure Adam has told you that I’m a wanderer. I’m not parent material. I’ve done my parenting stint and it’s over. Of course I can send money—or if I can’t Adam certainly can.’ Zeb pushed his chair back and made to rise. ‘Be sure to wish Jodie well.’

‘Wait.’ Olivia’s voice was sharp. ‘Please.’

‘My dear girl, there is little point in trying to change my mind.’

Zeb stood
and Adam mirrored the action.

‘Sit,’ he said. ‘Olivia wants you to stay, so that is what is happening.’

Zeb hesitated and then threw his hands in the air. ‘Very well, then.’ He sank back down with a shake of his greying head.

‘Don’t you feel
anything
for your baby?’ Olivia asked.

Adam flinched, wondering if Olivia was thinking of her own father. This must be her personal hell:
to see the face of indifference in the flesh. Here was a man thinking only of himself, with never a thought for the child he had helped create.

‘Of course I feel something,’ Zeb said expansively. ‘I accept a fiscal responsibility and I believe that I am doing the right thing for the child. Better that I don’t raise any expectations that I know all too well I cannot come anywhere near fulfilling.
The Mastersons don’t like to be tied down, Olivia.’ He waved a hand at Adam. ‘Adam will vouch for that.’

Zeb’s words sucker-punched Adam. They were no more than the truth and he would do well to remember it.

‘So...’ Zeb picked up his drink and glugged it down. ‘Any more questions? Do I need to order another drink or am I free to go?’

Adam shot a glance at Olivia, who shook her head.
She looked pale, her shoulders slumped, and his heart ached for her. For a second he was tempted to grab Zeb and force him to do what she wanted, make him grovel to Olivia for hurting her. But there was no use in walking that path. It would simply put off the inevitable. Zeb would always leave; that was what Mastersons did.

‘Just go, Zeb.’

Weariness descended on Adam’s shoulders as he
watched Zeb bound to his feet.

For a second the older man hesitated. ‘Adam, I am as I am.’ He walked around the table and clapped an awkward hand on Adam’s shoulder. ‘I’ll see you.’ He nodded towards the door. ‘You may want to let your friends know I’m good to go.’

Adam turned and nodded at Saru, knowing he’d pass the signal onto Gan, who was no doubt lurking in the vicinity.

‘Ciao.’

With that, Zeb was gone.

‘Olivia.’ Despite knowing Zeb’s actions weren’t his fault, guilt jabbed at Adam. ‘I’m sorry.’

She expelled a sigh and shook her head. ‘Don’t be. You didn’t walk out through that door. I just can’t believe that’s how it went down.’

She reached across the table and picked up the paper umbrella, closing it carefully, smoothing the thin paper folds.

‘I played it wrong. I should have tried harder. Asked more questions. Told him more about Mum. I should have done
something
. Asked you and Saru to keep him here locked up. Instead I let him leave.’

‘It wasn’t your fault.’

‘Easy for you to say.
I’m
the one who stuffed it up.’

‘You didn’t stuff it up. Leaving is what Zeb does.’

No one knew that better than Adam, and he needed
Olivia to believe that. To stop blaming herself.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean Zeb called it right. Mastersons aren’t good at being tied down. There is nothing you can say or do to change that.’

‘He looked after
you
,’ Olivia said softly.

‘Reluctantly.’ The dark twist of knowledge wrenched his insides. ‘He looked into every other avenue first and he cut me loose at the first opportunity.’

‘I don’t understand.’

Adam ran a hand down his face and round the back of his neck; memory’s bitter taste coated his very soul. A memory he’d never shared with anyone.

But here and now he could not let Olivia think that if she’d done something differently Zeb would have made a different decision. He’d hoped for her sake that Zeb would. Hell, he’d hoped it for his own sake. Wished
that having Adam in his life, being a parent, had affected Zeb in some way. Clearly not. And Adam could see now what a foolish mirage
that
had been.

‘It was my sixteenth birthday and we were celebrating.’ Adam had been stupidly pleased; it had been the first time Zeb had marked his birthday in any way. ‘Turned out we weren’t celebrating my birthday.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘It was
my send-off party.’ He could feel the weight of Zeb’s hand on his shoulder, hear his voice echo down the twelve years.