Mr. Insatiable (12 page)

Kit knew something had transpired between Enya and his father, but she clearly didn’t want to talk about it, so he didn’t push it. He did puzzle on it, though. What could John Fawkes possibly have said to upset her so much? As far as he knew, Enya and his father had always got on well, like an uncle/niece relationship. They had obviously argued and that bothered him, especially because Enya wouldn’t talk about it, but he resolved that he’d ask her later, hopefully after she’d thawed toward him.

It was clear to him that she was still holding back from him, although the hug she’d given him in the airport cheered him up slightly. But gradually, over the course of their twenty-one hour journey, things returned to normal between them. On the long flight from Sydney to Beijing, they watched films together, talked about what Charlie had arranged for them to see, and ate their meals as they chatted about their businesses and what plans they had for them for the future. Enya curled up and rested her head on his shoulder while she helped him out with his crossword, and when she finally fell asleep, a deep sense of relief and satisfaction swept over him. He leaned over and kissed her hair before he too dozed off.

* * * *

By the time they landed in Beijing–twenty-one hours later and five hours behind Auckland time–Enya was weary and slightly disoriented. The flight assistant announced it was eleven thirty at night, but her body clock kept telling her it was four thirty in the morning, and she had trouble keeping her eyes open, even though she’d dozed frequently on the journey. It was incredibly warm and humid in the airport, even at that late hour, and she quickly removed the sweater she’d worn on the plane, conscious of her rumpled T-shirt beneath it.

Kit, in comparison, looked as fresh as a daisy as he stripped off his sweater to reveal his smart blue shirt, as if he’d woken up after a ten hour sleep, showered and changed.

“I hate it when you do that,” she mumbled as they waited for their luggage.

“Do what?”

“Look so good when I feel like a wrung-out rag.”

He smiled. “Hardly. You look beautiful, as always.”

The hair at her nape prickled. Whether it was because she was half-asleep or because she was still vulnerable from the altercation she’d had with his father, Enya wasn’t sure. It had been a throwaway comment–he’d hardly glanced at her as he said it, and he strode away to lift their bags off the luggage rack, but his compliment lingered the same way his aftershave lingered on her clothes where she’d been leaning against him as she dozed.

He lifted his bag off and then pretended to struggle with hers as if it weighed half a ton and she poked her tongue out at him. She tingled as he lifted the bag effortlessly when he’d finished playing the fool. His arms were tanned and muscular, and his shirt stretched tight across his broad chest. He looked like one of the men you might find on a poster advertising jeans or an energy drink, fit and healthy, every woman’s dream. Without his shirt, he could easily have doubled for one of the men in the fire fighters calendar that one of the girls at
Tea & Biscuits
had pinned up in the kitchen, with bulging biceps and tanned flesh...

“Careful.” He reached out a hand and caught her arm. “You were about to walk straight into that post. How tired
are
you?”

“Practically comatose,” Enya said, determined it was lack of sleep and
not
remnants of lust that had made her faze out of reality for ten seconds.

“Come on, Miss Zombie. We need to get you to bed before you pass out.”

His words conjured a vivid image of him curled up beside her in the hotel room, rolling onto his back and pulling her on top of him, and Enya sighed, shaking her head as she trotted after him.

Oh, I so need to get some sleep
.

Chapter

10

Luckily, the hotel wasn’t far from the airport, only fifteen minutes’ drive through the bright lights of Beijing, and by twelve thirty they’d checked in and been given their room keys.

“Want to have a drink before we head up?” Kit asked as they walked across the foyer, pausing in front of the lifts.

“Ah, no, I don’t think so. That didn’t end well last time.” Enya gave him a wry smile.

Kit’s eyes met hers, and for the first time since they’d left Auckland, a glimmer of naughtiness flickered in their depths. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I think it ended very well.”

His gaze hooked hers like a fish, and she found herself unable to free it. The last time he’d looked at her like that had been in the hotel before the wedding breakfast, after he’d kissed her. ‘If we weren’t in a public place, I’d have you naked by now,’ he’d said, and he’d gone on to prove his words later that evening. For a brief, panic-stricken moment, she wondered if he’d invited her to China to have his wicked way with her, like a Regency rake who’d kidnapped a blushing debutante and whisked her off to his country mansion.

Then he grinned, and she blinked and realized she’d been staring at him. “Don’t look so worried,” he said. “I haven’t brought you here to chain you to the bed and keep you as my sex slave.” He ran his gaze down her and slowly back up. “Unless you want me to, of course.”

Vivid images of Kit cuffing her to the bedpost filled her head, and she backed away until she met the wall. She pressed the elevator button hastily. “I’m really tired, Kit. Almost asleep on my feet here. I’ve got to get to bed.”

His blue eyes were light, amused. “I’m teasing you, Celt. Don’t worry. I’m not going to sneak into your room at night and do terrible, kinky things to you.” His wicked smile suggested exactly the opposite.

The elevator doors pinged open and she backed in hastily. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Sure. I’ll be up shortly.” He winked at her. The last thing she saw as the doors slid shut was his tight butt as he bent over to pick up his bag.

She swiped her keycard and pressed the floor number, leaned against the wall of the elevator and closed her eyes. The only way she’d managed to talk herself into going on this trip was by convincing herself that what had happened between her and Kit was an aberration, born out of alcohol and depression that she’d split up with Andy. But the way he’d looked at her… She shivered. He still wanted her. And that wasn’t good news at all.

John Fawkes’s words came back to her then.
Kit’s loved you since the moment he met you
.
He’s hidden it behind familial affection, but it’s always been more than that.
Was it true? Did Kit really harbor feelings for her?

The elevator dinged and she made her way along the corridor, finding her room halfway along. Kit’s room was next door, but she ignored it hurried inside, and flipped the bolt across.

She walked across the plush cream carpet to the window, which overlooked the sparkling city lights of central Beijing. But she couldn’t see anything but the desire in Kit’s eyes and she dropped her bags and flopped back onto the bed.

This was not good. She could resist him if he played along with the brother/sister routine, the ‘we’re nothing but best friends’ story, but what was she going to do if he started making passes at her?

She’d tried so hard to put what they’d done behind her, to convince herself it didn’t mean anything. Kit was young, virile, and a hundred percent male–he liked sex, he was single, and he wasn’t the sort of guy to turn down an open invitation like the one she’d given him. And they’d been drunk, which hadn’t helped. But she’d thought he was as keen as she was to keep their friendship. He’d looked pathetically distraught when he thought she was upset with him. And so she’d assumed he’d want to move on from their mistake.

From the look in his eyes down in the lobby, however, Kit didn’t seem to think it had been a mistake.
I think it ended very well
, he’d said, and even now, she shivered from the memory of his intense blue gaze. He’d flirted with her openly. Why? He loved her as a friend, and he didn’t want to lose that. Was it something to do with the fact that they weren’t at home? As if it didn’t count if you had a different country’s stamp in your passport. Maybe he’d decided he was going to have some fun with her while they were away.

She shivered, and her nipples tightened. She wished she could say she hadn’t thought about sex with Kit since the wedding, but of course, that wasn’t the case. She’d tried to steer her mind away from the thought of him kissing her, thrusting into her, laughing and shaking his head as she begged him to take her harder and faster, but the memories had returned repeatedly, haunting her like a stubborn phantom intent on driving the owner of the house he inhabited insane.

What was she going to do if he came on to her again? Could she turn him down? Normally, she would have said she had impressive willpower. She found it easy to refuse chocolate or wine when she decided she wanted to lose a few pounds, and she considered herself a strong character, easily able to say no when asked to do something she didn’t want to do.

But if Kit Fawkes knocked on her door, gave her one of his sexy smiles and pulled her into his arms? Could she push him away?

She groaned and covered her face with her hands. At that moment, her whole body throbbed for him. She could probably control her lust all the time he was controlling his. But if he let his free...

And then she thought of John, and his warning on the way to the airport. He wanted her to stay away from his son. That stung, and it was difficult to shake off the feeling that he thought she wasn’t good enough for Kit, but deep down she knew that wasn’t fair. He’d been cruel, but only to be kind. Kit wanted a family–she knew this, and she wanted it for him too. John said Kit had feelings for her, feelings that weren’t familial. That sent a frisson of excitement through her, but she had to make sure his interest didn’t develop into anything deeper. It was up to her to keep this relationship platonic, before one–or both–of them got seriously hurt, and she couldn’t bear the thought of losing him.

No, she had to make sure she rebuffed his flirting and ignored his innuendo. He’d soon find another girl to obsess about. Mr. Insatiable couldn’t be single for long.

Enya stared up at the ceiling. She clenched her fists at the thought of Kit with another woman, plunging into her as he whispered how beautiful she was. But he wasn’t for her. She’d been lucky enough to have a free sample, to explore what sex was like with someone you love and trust, but that was as far as it was going to go. And the sooner she came to terms with it, the better.

* * * *

Kit lingered in the bar, enjoying five minutes alone with a whisky after a torturous twenty-four hours with the Celt. The journey had started pleasantly enough, but somewhere in the depths of the night–or was it morning? His body clock was all over the place–he’d awoken to find Enya curled up beside him, arms wrapped around one of his, leaning on his shoulder while she dozed. She wore a dark green T-shirt that complimented her hair and eyes perfectly. The top had a deep V, and from where he was sitting, he’d been able to see straight down her cleavage.

For the rest of the flight, he’d been unable to stop himself having sexy thoughts, and it hadn’t helped when they arrived at Beijing and the atmosphere was hot and sultry, even at midnight. The deep V had been damp with moisture, and she’d looked hot and bothered, just like she had in that overheated hotel room in Auckland, while he’d screwed her senseless on the table.

He was going to have to keep to his original plan to seduce her when they were away. When they went back to New Zealand, things would return to normal, but for these four stolen days, they were going to explore the world of pleasure together.

She thought she could resist him. She’d been reluctant to react to his subtle advances–a brush of his arm against hers, holding her gaze a second too long–each time, she tried to move or glance away. But gradually she’d weakened. It had been fun to tease her as she got into the elevator, and the pretty blush that had spread across her cheeks had reinforced his guess that deep down, she still wanted him, even though she was trying to fight it.

He finished off the whisky and made his way over to the elevator. When he got to their floor, he walked along to his room, pausing as he passed Enya’s. He was incredibly tempted to knock on her door and ask whether she wanted a nightcap, but Beijing was five hours behind Auckland, and he was nearly asleep on his feet. He’d start tomorrow. He swiped his card and let himself into his room.

He didn’t bother unpacking–just undressed quickly and fell into bed. He was so tired, he would be asleep in seconds.

And yet his brain refused to rest, entranced by the thought of Enya through the wall, either naked or in some kind of skimpy nightwear, her body soft and pliant with sleep. He imagined letting himself in her room, sliding into bed beside her, pressing himself up against her. She’d turn over and open her mouth to his kiss, roll over onto her back and open her legs. He’d used his fingers first, and he’d stroke her until her sighs turned to moans before moving on top of her and sliding inside her...

Kit cursed out loud. Now he had an erection the size of the Statue of Liberty. There was no way he was getting to sleep without doing something about it.

Hot and slightly irritable, he closed his eyes and thought of Enya’s breasts heavy in his palms as he proceeded to take himself in hand and avail himself of some room service.

* * * *