His Last Gamble (20 page)

Charmaine dismissed Jinx from her mind once and for all.

‘So, about last night?' Payne prompted. ‘I hope you're not trying to back out of it, because I won't let you,' he warned, leaning against his desk and watching her like a hawk. ‘You had a fifty-fifty chance of escape, just as I had a fifty-fifty chance of losing my shirt.'

Charmaine shook her head. ‘Oh, Payne, you're hopeless,' she sighed helplessly. Why didn't he just kiss her? Tell her he loved her. That's all she wanted.

‘There's no way in the world you can make me honour that bet, and you know it,' she said instead.

‘Don't be so sure,' he said softly, dangerously. ‘You made the wager of your own free will, and in front of witnesses. If I had to, I could drag you into court.'

Charmaine snorted. Perhaps once such a threat would have had her going all a-tremble, but the new, improved Charmaine Reece wasn't about to let it go unchallenged.

‘Rot.
No judge would ever try and compel a woman to marry against her will and you know it,' she said scornfully.

Slowly, Payne left the desk and came towards her. He moved like a golden mountain lion, all easy grace and effortless power. She backed up a step instinctively, although her suddenly racing heart had little to do with fear, and much more to do with desire.

‘Maybe not,' he drawled. ‘But I could always sue you for breach of promise,' he husked. But she could tell he was teasing.

Wasn't he? The thing was, she was never sure when he was bluffing and when he wasn't!

Charmaine gasped. ‘You wouldn't?'

‘No, I wouldn't,' he said, but there was little comfort to be had from that, for he was already reaching out for her. And with a swift movement that had her squealing in surprise, he lifted her into the air and spun her around, taking a few steps and sitting her firmly on the big desk.

He pressed forward, nudging her legs apart and standing so close she could feel his body heat, his fingers curling sensuously around her upper arms.

‘Besides, I can think of far more pleasurable ways of persuading you to honour our bet,' he murmured and swooped.

Papers scattered as he lay her across the desk, his fingers going instantly to the tantalising zip and pulling it down.

‘I've
been itching to do that from the moment you walked through the door,' he confessed huskily.

She wore no bra underneath, and she gasped as the warmth of his breath feathered over her naked skin, before gentle, knowing fingers, eased the grey material from her shoulders, leaving her gloriously naked to his feasting eyes.

He groaned as he watched her rose-coloured nipples burgeon and tighten as he tweaked them with his fingers.

‘You're so beautiful,' he said, lowering his head to slip one throbbing bud deep into his mouth. Her back arched compulsively off the desk, but his superior weight and strength kept her firmly anchored to the wood.

Charmaine gasped. She'd never expected it to feel this good.

‘Payne,' she gasped, but with a small moan he moved his lips to her other breast and she shuddered all over again. When she felt him pulling the jump suit down, she lifted her hips briefly off the desk in order to let him strip it from her completely, co-operating willingly in her own seduction.

She felt as if she had been waiting for this for all her life. Probably because she
had
been waiting for this for all her life!

He let the grey material fall to the ground and began to trail hot kisses over her stomach, dipping enticingly into her navel and making
her
legs thrash in instant response. Then his mouth moved across her brief white panties, his breath hot against the very core of her femininity, and she felt herself begin to burn, a hot flush that slowly turned her insides to quivering liquid. His hands were firm on her calves as he pulled her legs ruthlessly apart and she cried out as he began to nibble against her, his tongue, through the lace of her panties, finding the most sensitive part of her and laving ferociously.

Without becoming aware of it she began to undulate on the desk in time with his mouth, and a low groan of sheer wanton desire escaped her lips.

A tightening, deepening, ever hardening core of tension built inside her, demanding release and when it finally came she arched her neck and moaned out his name. Shaking, she watched him move back up her body, his hands pulling the lace panties down as he did so, leaving her totally naked. She'd never been more aware of the vast difference in their sexual experience, but she trusted him totally.

He shrugged off his shirt, and immediately her hands went to his shoulders, exploring the warmth of his skin, the softness of velvet over iron, her hands lovingly tracing the contours of his muscles. She saw his face tighten at the touch and realised, with something like awe, that she could do to him, what he had just done to her.

This
sense of power was giddy, heady stuff, and her hands slipped lower, to his belt buckle and beyond, wanting to watch the look in his eyes turn from a smouldering grey ember into a leaping flame.

He groaned out her name as she pressed her palm against the hard straining heat she found there, and her fingers caressed him unrelentingly.

Impatiently, he undid his belt and yanked off his jeans, and suddenly he was nudging her knees wider aside, rising his body up and over hers, his face level with hers now, their breaths meeting and mingling as they panted their mutual desire.

‘Payne!' she wanted to warn him that she was new at this, and probably wouldn't be very good, but he shushed her, pushing the hair from her damp forehead, his eyes as gentle as the softest mist.

‘I know,' he promised her. ‘I'll be gentle.'

And he was.

From the moment he entered her, Charmaine became lost in the sensation of him, deep inside, hot and powerful and yet gentle. She gasped and shuddered as her body rocked to the rhythm of his, accepting him, urging him on to greater, deeper thrusts, needing and wanting more, always more.

This time the tight hard feeling was far more intense than before, so much so that she thought it would drive her out of her mind.

She
was dimly aware that she was clinging to him, her fingernails scoring long angry red lines down his back. His face was taunt with emotion and passion, and when he called out her name and shuddered atop her, she felt an answering climax wrack her own frame and suddenly she was soaring.

She soared for a long, long time, only slowly coming back down to earth.

Eventually she became aware of herself and her world again. The desk began to feel hard beneath her, his weight a warm, comforting crush that she never wanted to have removed.

Eventually though, he pushed himself up, and looked wonderingly down at her, taking his weight on his straightening elbows, and smiling the most heart-stopping smile she knew she would ever live to see.

His hair was dark and damp, his skin flushed with sweat. His eyes look as deep as the ocean.

‘I love you,' he said softly. ‘Charmaine. I've never said that to any woman, I promise you. I've never loved any other woman, and I never will. Trust me.'

And Charmaine felt her heart sing with pure happiness. ‘I believe you,' she said, and did.

It was true. A woman just knew.

‘And I'll never let you down. You will always be able to trust me,' he urged.

And she understood exactly what he was saying. No more insane gambles. No more . . .

Suddenly
she felt a cold hand clutch at her heart as an awful, overwhelming realisation suddenly hit her.

Yes, she could trust him.

But, once she'd told him about why she'd come to the island, and how cruelly she'd set out to deceive him, how brutally she'd intended to treat him . . .

How would he ever be able to trust her again?

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Charmaine brushed back the tears from her face as she folded away her last pair of shorts and zipped up her suitcase.

‘Hi, all set?' Lucy walked in, and grimaced. ‘Only the one case? You know for someone who designs such fab clothes, you sure travel light.'

Charmaine managed a laugh. ‘You should see the
Jonniee
cases, though. They could take up the whole hold of a jumbo jet all by themselves.'

‘I believe you. So any ideas yet on your wedding gown?' her sister asked brightly, and Charmaine stiffened.

‘Oh, one or two,' she said, deliberately vaguely. ‘And you—have you made up your mind what you want yet?'

‘I
don't know Sis, I'm sort of hovering between classic ivory, perhaps a short dress and a near invisible veil—or going really over the top with something in tartan,' Lucy laughed gaily.

Charmaine grinned. ‘If you want over the top get Jo-Jo to do your wedding dress. He'll do you proud. If you want more traditional, just let me know.'

She'd offered to design her sister's wedding dress the moment Lucy had told her that Max was flying to England to meet their father, and that a Spring wedding would follow as soon as his divorce was final.

She was also, ostensibly, supposed to be working on her own dress, but although Charmaine could picture it perfectly in her mind's eye, she had no intention of putting pencil to paper and bringing it into reality.

After all, she'd never wear it, so why torture herself?

‘Right, I'd best get going. We don't want to miss the flight,' she said firmly.

‘Sure you don't want me to come and see you off?' Lucy pressed, but Charmaine was already shaking her head.

‘No, that's fine. I'm going with the rest of the gang. We came together, so it's nice to leave together as well.'

‘Hmm, but unlike the fulminating Jinx and the rest of the crew, you'll be coming back,' Lucy sighed blissfully. ‘It must be absolutely
eating
that red-headed witch's heart out that you got your man. And such a man.'

Charmaine grimaced. ‘Oh, let's not gloat.' Especially, she thought sadly, since there's nothing to gloat about.

As far as the rest of the island and the media was concerned, she was flying home to get her affairs in order, collect her pet, and start on her trousseau, before returning to the island for the Wedding of the century in the autumn.

Only Charmaine knew that she would never be coming back.

She hoisted her case onto the floor, trying to ignore the fact that her heart was breaking, and looked around her room in farewell. She'd been happy here—if only briefly.

‘Next time you'll be staying at the Palace,' Lucy said, mistaking her look and the reason for it. ‘Not this place. The Main Suite is fantastic. I haven't seen it,' she hastened to add, ‘but I've heard rumours. Or are you and Payne thinking of buying a house now you're going to be an old married couple? After all, a casino isn't exactly the ideal place to raise kids is it?'

Charmaine bit her lip. She had no idea what Payne had had in mind. And it didn't matter now, did it?

‘Oh, we'll see,' she said vaguely, unable to take much more of Lucy's cheerfulness whilst her whole world was about to come to an end.
Of
course, she could stay, but then she'd have to tell Payne the truth, only to watch all that love and trust in his eyes dwindle to something hard and bitter.

No, it was far better this way.

Lucy watched her, a worried frown creasing her forehead. ‘Not having second thoughts are you?' she half-teased, half-probed. ‘About Payne I mean.'

‘Oh no,' Charmaine said truthfully. ‘Payne's the love of my life, no doubt about it.' And her life with him would never have been dull. But that was all over now. It had been over the moment she realised that Payne, once he knew the truth about her, would never want to marry her in a million years.

Lying in his arms, her whole body still throbbing after the intense pleasure of their love-making, she had suddenly realised that that was her last moment of bliss.

Other women might be able to marry a man and keep quiet about it, hiding such a secret without a qualm. But she knew herself well enough to know that she was not one of them. Besides which, she'd be cheating him, and for someone with his mindset, that would be the ultimate sin. He was a gambler, fair and square. Marrying him without telling him who and what she really was, was the action of the dirtiest cheater ever to cross his path.

If he found out about it after they were married, he'd hate her, and she simply couldn't
bear
that. No, far better to get the pain over and done with now, and leave him free to find someone else.

Once she was safely back in England, she'd write him a long letter explaining everything, and sending his ring back. He wouldn't ever have to see her again, something he'd be bound to be grateful for. And she would have spared herself the heartache of seeing his love and trust turn to indifference.

A bellboy took her case to the taxi, one of several that was waiting, containing Jo-Jo and the rest of the gang.

She got into a taxi with Phil and Dee-Dee, who were looking at her with far more respect than ever before.

Not only had she snared a wealthy and powerful husband for herself, news had also spread about her real position at
Jonniee.
And suddenly she was no longer merely an awkward amateur model, but a woman of real power.

Even Jinx was forcing herself to be polite to her!

And it was a nice feeling to have Phil and Dee-Dee treat her like one of the bosses at last. She couldn't think why she hadn't ‘come out' before!

She glanced out of the window as the taxi pulled away, taking a long, last, lingering glimpse of the Palace. She knew that Payne had an urgent and important meeting that
morning
for he'd told her so, which was why he wasn't able to take her to the airport himself, and she still blushed as she remembered the hard, deep, molten kiss he'd given her last night.