Pitch Imperfect (27 page)

Her dreams did him little justice. They didn’t outline his silky black curls or how they cradled his long, thick shaft. Its large, swollen head, glistening with desire. Her fingers tingled and extended with the need to feel him pulsing in her palm. She wanted to run her tongue along his length and taste the moisture bathing his tip, to bank him between her breasts and feel him streak her torso with liquid fire.

He didn’t touch her, much as she could see that he wanted to.
Take me as I am
, his eyes seemed to say, and to challenge her to offer him the same. Oh, yes, she would take him exactly as he was. Forever. It was her turn to offer him everything that she was, inside and out, and she wanted to, had no qualms about giving herself to him. But suddenly she felt absurdly shy about shedding her clothes and exposing her nakedness, making love to Rob in their turret above the moors.

“I canna wait much longer,” Rob said thickly.

How Scottish he sounded when passion controlled his voice. How savage the desire flaring in his gaze.

Performing a striptease was far more unnerving than watching one, and Anjuli unwrapped her dress more quickly than Rob had denuded himself. His breathing was uneven, as if he were containing a storm that would break the minute she unclasped her bra and pulled down her thong. Anjuli looked away from his hot stare. He was so perfect and she was...not.

In London they had made love in the dark, in a frenzy which had ended almost as soon as it had begun. Here, now, it would be different, and he would know every inch of the woman she’d become. Would he see the faded, weblike lines beneath her pelvic bone, evidence her womb had once been filled with life? Or the way her areolas had expanded and her nipples were crinkly, a deeper pink than they used to be? How about the slight pucker above her belly button? She held his gaze and slid her bra straps off her shoulders, then pulled the cups away from her breasts.

Rob let out a long, hoarse breath and his skin turn a deeper, reddish tone, but that could have been the sunset illuminating the roofless turret. Slowly, blushing to the roots of her hair, Anjuli pulled her thong down her hips to her ankles, wondering what she’d see in his face when she looked up. Rob was on her before she had flicked it off, crushing her body against his.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he said hoarsely. One of his hands clamped onto her bottom, lifting her onto the tips of her toes and pulling her against his hard shaft; the other spread tightly over her breast. “Tell me you won’t run from me, ever again.”

“Never.”

Anjuli clasped her hands around his neck and met his kiss ferociously. She would allay his fears and drown his doubts, gift him with everything she was. Hot, insistent lips left her mouth for her breast, dropping fierce, possessive kisses along her flesh. Her pussy was a heated river, banked by aching, quivering folds. She wanted to repeat that she loved him, over and over, but all she could do was gasp in pleasure, feel the velvet texture of his cock, sandwiched between their bodies.

The sensation of rising into the sky.

Anjuli grasped his shaft and a sharp rasp came from Rob’s throat. Slowly, she tightened her grip and travelled up his length, teasing him with her sensuous rhythm. His teeth grazed her nipple and she moaned as he retaliated, sliding a finger inside her swollen cleft. And then he tortured her, playing with her wetness, pressing on the hard nub and summoning short, rapid gasps followed by an almost frantic moan. She increased her strokes and he jerked in her hand.

His voice was guttural. “I’ve no’ had sex since London and for a while before that, and I’ll no’ go for long if you do that.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Anjuli whispered, guiding him where she wanted. “I want you to come.”

With a groan he cupped her bottom and wrapped her legs around his thighs. He lowered his hips and pushed up and into her slick warmth. Strong arms and muscular hips supported her as he stroked into her. She was lost in his movement, in the hot, smooth feel of his cock. Penetrating her inch by inch. Slowly, deliberately, he coated himself in her juice until he was covered to the root. Her mouth opened and she emitted a sigh...a whimper...a scream. She wasn’t going to last long either.

“Rob,” she said, clutching his shoulders. “Please...”

“No’ yet,” he answered.

His face was strained with pleasure, taut with the struggle not to lose control. She wanted him hard and fast—crescendo, accelerando, crescendo—but he refused to hurry. She was full of music and she was full of Rob. His cock pounded inside her like a drum and her body echoed that rhythm, her pleasure tied to each beat until she was catapulted into pure bliss, clenching around him uncontrollably. Ecstasy, far too intense to be held captive, released in long moans as her body seemed to erupt, then evaporate into nothingness.

Rob’s hoarse, rasping breath echoed off the turret walls. His thrust intensified and then he stiffened, releasing his pleasure with long, throaty growls. She could feel the heat of his eruption, hot jets pouring into her, melting her bones and turning her to putty. His buttocks clenched under her legs as he climaxed, his lips at the hollow in her neck.

Was he saying something? If he was she couldn’t understand it, but then it didn’t matter anymore. He’d captured her mouth and he was saying it with his arms, tight around her back, clamping her close as if he would shackle her to him forever. Small, electric aftershocks hummed between them like little encores, prolonging their enjoyment.

Wonderingly, Anjuli tilted her head back and looked at the sky. The first stars had appeared, shining distantly above them.

If they could speak, what would they say about her?

Brazen hussy and proud of it. Anjuli smiled, listening to the rapid heartbeat beneath her palm. “You should read Chapter six.”

Rob laughed, an exultant sound that filled her with joy. “Does Lord Douglas buy a pacemaker? I’m going to need one after carrying you back down.”

She returned his hard kiss. “I’ll let you off the hook if you cook dinner. I’m starving.”

He groaned and lifted her into his arms. “I’ll make an appointment with my GP.”

* * *

Smoked salmon omelette, crusty bread and a green salad. Rob didn’t think his meal plan was too bad. He looked inside the fridge, wondering what else he could make. Anjuli might be penniless but her fridge hadn’t been told. Imported mangoes, asparagus...expensive wine...While she showered, he put a bottle of white on ice and beat the eggs with the salmon. He looked at the mixture quizzically.

What would Ben do?
He’d take the steps two at a time and join his woman in the shower
,
that’s what.
Rob grinned. Much as he wanted to emulate his brother, if he joined Anjuli upstairs he’d keep her there and he had something else he wanted to give her beside the key to the castle, if she would take it. So he’d settle for sprinkling some of whatever that green herb was over the cooking omelette.

“Better than gourmet,” Anjuli said from the doorway.

Her hair was wet, and she was dressed only in his shirt, sleeves rolled up and collar enticingly open. The temperature had cooled, but shirtless, he didn’t feel the chill. A wrap of his hand around Anjuli’s waist was all he needed to know she was naked underneath. His hand slid to her bottom. “I’m hungry, and you’re no’ helping me concentrate on food.”

She drew his head down to hers. “I’m ravenous...and sore.”

What kind of man felt pleased to hear that? “I’m a brute.”

Anjuli shook her head. “Sore because I need you so very much.”

A thrill rippled through him and then he caught a waft of burning salmon. Anjuli laughed and joined him at the cooker. “I can’t fry fish or steaks either.”

“You’ll have to get your wife to do that for you,” she teased.

He took her left hand and put it on his heart, then stroked her slender fingers, remembering them tapping on his back while he shuddered inside her. “Where’s the piano?”

She didn’t meet his eyes. “I sold it. But that’s okay, it doesn’t matter.”

He lightly kissed her fingers. “Matters to me.”

Her eyes sparkled and she reached down and cupped him. “I’ll have to make do with playing something else.”

Rob lengthened under her strokes and walked her to the table. “Insatiable wench.” His head went back as she unzipped him, circled and stroked until he was hard-pressed not to forego dinner and drink for the delight of losing himself inside her. She grasped him, manoeuvring him to her heated, wet pussy. God, she was slick, ready for him, but... “Wait, lass,” he said, mustering his thoughts.

He reached into his pocket and took out a small black jewellery bag. “I wanted to give you this before we got sidetracked.”

Her voice came out in a seductive purr as she opened it. “If it’s a key to the other tower, I’m not carrying you up.”

He pressed into her and stopped, poised and throbbing, but much as he wanted to dive into her tight heat, he watched her face as she drew out his gift. A ring in a Victorian setting, dark gold, two small diamonds either side a pale aquamarine. The ring he had given her when he’d first asked her to marry him.

Anjuli’s eyes filled with unshed tears. “You kept it?”

She had sent it to him with her letter, all those years ago, and though he’d come to Heaverlock Castle, walked over the bridge and felt like throwing it into the River Redes he hadn’t been able to. So he had kept it. Because it was beautiful and he’d had it made for Anjuli and couldn’t seem to get rid of it. No matter how many times he’d thought of giving it to Mac to sell for one of her charity fundraisers, he’d never been able to let it go.

“Never take it off again.”

She nodded, tears running down her cheeks. “I promise, just never let me go.”

Slowly, Rob slid the ring onto Anjuli’s finger as he slid his cock into her body. Anjuli’s legs rose around his hips and then they were laughing...crying...panting...She screamed his name as he sealed their deal in the best way he knew how.

Epilogue

September

Rob scanned the airport waiting room, trying to dampen his rising worry. Anjuli would be here just as she had promised. Why would she not? They had nothing pending in Heaverlock. The restoration was finished and he had sold his house to Ben, the paperwork progressing smoothly. The manor would remain closed until they returned from America and Mac and Ben would check on it periodically. His twin was also going to take care of Reiver until they got back. Everything was settled.

Rob smiled at his fiancée’s proud, adamant insistence that she pay him back every pound she owed him. He preferred to barter for repayment in another coin entirely.

“I’m sorry Mr. Douglas, but we’re almost ready to shut the doors,” the flight dispatcher said. “I have to ask you to board.”

Where the hell was she?

If this were one of the rom-com films she liked watching she would be waiting for him on board, a smile on her face and a kiss to erase his fears.

The seat next to his was empty.

Unease threatened to subvert his confidence. He trusted Anjuli. Of course he did. Yet a vestige of remembered pain reared its head and reminded him of the day she’d left him at the altar. He stared at his mobile but it was as silent as it had been two minutes before. Her phone was switched off.

Rob had overnighted in Edinburgh and Anjuli had stayed with Ash, a sisterly goodbye before they flew out to their new life in Boston. Had she changed her mind and decided to stay? Or had she been filled with doubts and avoided speaking of them? Maybe she didn’t want live in America and hadn’t told him. She could sing if she wanted to, perform or not depending on her desires. He wouldn’t stand in her way, much as he ached to kiss her to sleep every night and wake up next to her every morning.

He wouldn’t lose her again because he was too jealous or possessive. No, never that.

The stewardess pulled the cabin door shut and Rob leaned his head back on the headrest. He would telephone Anjuli as soon as he arrived in Boston and they would talk it through. Then he would wait and—

No
,
he bloody hell would not
. Rob unclasped his safety belt and got up. The stewardess was young and looked alarmed. “I’m getting off the plane.”

“I’m sorry, sir, you must return to your seat.”

“I don’t think so.”

Another flight attendant brushed past them. She opened the cabin door and a flustered, dishevelled Anjuli rushed down the aisle. Her hair looked wild and her face pink with sweat. She’d never looked more beautiful.

“Rob,” she said, throwing herself into his arms.

He held her more tightly than he’d intended to and she coughed as he squeezed her. The stewardess gave them a strained look and he led Anjuli to their seats. “What happened?”

“Mrs. P. wanted a lift to her cousin’s in Edinburgh so I didn’t take the bypass off the motorway, and then we got stuck in traffic. We had a flat tyre and you know I can’t change tyres. I’d forgotten to charge my phone and Mrs. P. left hers at home,” she said, gulping for air. “I was so afraid you’d think the worst. Nobody would give us a lift until Mrs. P. hiked up her skirt and shocked half the motorway. I swear they’ll have nightmares for years. I know I will, but it worked because this man stopped and—”

Rob covered her mouth with his and held her close. “I thought you had changed your mind,” he admitted, his voice low.

“Never! They weren’t going to let me board, but sometimes it pays to be a has-been celebrity. One of the dispatchers recognised me and let me get on, provided I left all my luggage.”

Rob laughed at her annoyed expression. “We’ll have fun shopping.”

An exasperated look. “I’ll need more than underwear, you know.”

“Who says I want you to buy any?”

Her cheeks flushed and she turned her head away, flustered. He loved the way she blushed when he teased her, the way her lips trembled and her eyes turned sultry as soon as he got close.

Anjuli was a nervous flyer, he’d discovered, one of the new things he had learned about her. Rob kept her mind off the disappearing ground as they took off, telling her of Ben’s plans to move into his house in Halton Forest and his search for lodgers. Calm, soothing conversation about familiar people and places.

Rob took out his book and when Anjuli saw the title, she tried to grab it from his hand.

“I thought I’d donated
Border Lord’s Captive
and all the books that survived the fire to Mrs. P. for her church sales,” she groaned.

“I kept this one back,” he said. “I haven’t read the next chapter. Is it any good?”

Her face was bright red. “I don’t remember.”

Rob skimmed the first few paragraphs. “I’m going to love reminding you.”

* * * * *