Redemption in Love (Hearts on the Line) (15 page)

Her back arched, thrusting her breast into him. Her legs parted in welcome, and he reined himself in. Christ, she was beautiful, her response wild and hot. He fingered the delicate folds surrounding her sex and groaned at the slick heat.

His swollen cock grew impossibly hard. He wanted to prolong this, but it’d been so long since he’d been inside her.

He discarded his shorts and underwear in a hurry and rubbed the head of his cock against her clit.

“Oh my god. That feels amazing. Don’t stop…” she moaned.

She spread her thighs wantonly, her knees bent. He pushed two fingers into her and almost exploded at how tightly she clenched around his digits. Gritting his teeth, he pumped his fingers in and out of her, watching her and loving the way pleasure snaked through her, twisting and tightening her gorgeous face.

She couldn’t possibly leave him. No woman who responded to a man like this could walk away. And he wouldn’t let her go, wouldn’t make a relationship-ending mistake. She was his.

His.

Desperate to bring her to orgasm, he knelt and took her clit into his mouth.

“Gavin.” She whispered his name like it was the secret of the universe. “Gavin, Gavin.”

“Yes, baby, yes.” He pressed another finger into her. “Come for me,” he commanded and put his mouth back on her clit, licking, sucking and scraping it with his teeth, while he worked his fingers.

Her body bowed, her head thrown back. A tortured scream tore from her throat as an orgasm spasmed through her.

He kept his mouth on her, helping her ride wave after wave and stroking her gently as she came down from her high. Her face was peach pink, her lips swollen and kissable. Good lord. He was so damn close. Couldn’t wait even a second more.

The burgundy stiletto sandals looked wantonly sexy dangling at the end of her still spread legs. He put them over his shoulders as he positioned himself.

“Yes. I need you,” she said, her eyes glittering with desire. “Let’s make ourselves feel good.”

He thrust into her in one smooth motion. She was so hot and tight, his cock felt like it’d burst inside her in an instant.

Shit.

He hadn’t lost control like that since high school, and he wasn’t going to on his second honeymoon. He moved, setting a good pace that would help him prolong the moment. But from the way her face flushed and her head tossed back and forth, he knew she was really close, just needing a gentle push to send her over into the oblivion of another mind-shattering climax.

Desperate for the release yet even more desperate to hold onto their closeness, he kissed her. Their tongues tangled carnally, and she wrapped around him as though she was afraid he’d vanish.

Never. Never. Not him.

She was the one who was about to slip from his grasp unless he could make her stay beyond the four months. He wanted to make her come so hard, make her feel so ecstatically good, she would want to stay with him for the sex if nothing else.

He slipped a hand between their bodies and bumped his thumb against her clit while increasing the rhythm of his thrusts. She made a soft keening noise that rapidly escalated into a scream, her spine arching as a second orgasm ripped through her. Her inner muscles gripped him hard as they contracted. Teeth clenched, he came, spurting hotly inside her, feeling like the top of his head was exploding with the uncontrollable pleasure of loving his wife.

Instead of collapsing on top of her, he rolled over with her on top of him. Her long curls settled over them like a golden blanket.

More than the sexual satisfaction, it was the sense of peace and rightness of having her in his arms that loosened the knot of tension that had been plaguing him since her bombshell announcement at La Mer. She could see how he felt about her, couldn’t she? She’d forgive him for the disastrous anniversary, right?

AMANDINE WOKE UP to the sound of pounding waves. Next to her, Gavin slept with one arm over her belly, his naked body resting on the tangled sheet. Through the curtains she could see a sliver of dark orange—almost red—demarcating the dark churning ocean and the indigo sky. What the…?

Oh
,
right
.
Thailand
.

She moved his hand carefully and rose. Her muscles ached pleasantly, reminding her of how sweetly her husband had loved her the night before. Their physical connection seemed to testify as to how crazy she was to even consider giving him up.

But sex wasn’t what had gone bad in their marriage. He could give her an orgasm a day for the next four months, and it still wouldn’t change anything.

She almost wished the problem
was
sex. Then they could’ve just practiced until they got better at it.

How can you be sure nothing will change?

Gavin had never spent this much time with her. He was giving her a second honeymoon, but she couldn’t begin to imagine what it must’ve done to his work schedule. He’d even turned off his phone and tablet, and hadn’t checked his email since they’d left L.A.

Surely, all of that meant something. He wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t love her at least a little.

Gavin shifted, throwing an arm over his head. He looked utterly masculine, yet somehow vulnerable in the pre-dawn light. She swallowed. This was the kind of moment that deserved to be preserved.

Quickly, she grabbed a sheet of paper and a pencil from the desk and started sketching him. They weren’t the best materials, but she hadn’t brought her art supplies, so they’d have to do.

Several bold lines captured the lean symmetry of his physique. She didn’t attempt to realize every little detail. Her wrist and hand moved fast, creating little shadows where his ribs and the ridges of abdomen were. A few deft brushings of her thumb smudged the lines of his face, and his high cheekbones appeared more prominent, his jaw became dark with stubble.

Twenty minutes later, she put the sketch in a leather portfolio she’d brought along and stood up to shower. The bathroom was fully stocked with the products she liked. One good thing about having Josephine was that she knew all the best items for Amandine’s skin and hair type. It was almost like she was a mistress in charge of a harem, ensuring all the women—or in this case, just Amandine—looked and smelled good for Gavin.

Shaking her head at the whimsical, silly thought, Amandine put on a white waffle-weave robe and stepped outside. She stopped short at the sight of Gavin sitting propped up against pillows.

“Did I wake you up?”

“No. You know I don’t sleep much.”

That was true enough. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone to bed before midnight or slept in. He stretched with a yawn. “Coffee should be up soon.”

“Perfect.”

When she got to the bed, he pulled her onto his lap to cuddle. “You okay to have it?”

She nodded. “Only one small cup a day, no more.”

“I should shower and shave.” He dragged a palm across his jaw. “Your skin’s so soft. Don’t want to hurt you.”

She settled into a plush raw silk armchair by the balcony while he got himself ready. Her iPod played a new Bach mp3 she’d bought before the trip. An article on relaxation had said Bach or Mozart was the best for pregnant women, so… She closed her eyes as the mellow sound of a cello filled her head. Could her baby even notice? It had been so small when Dr. Silverman did the sonogram, nothing more than a pea-sized dot.

Amazing how such a tiny little life could disrupt so much, pluck so many emotions out of her.

There was a gentle touch on her shoulder, and she opened her eyes.

Gavin was looking at her curiously. His strong jaw was cleanly shaven now, his damp hair darker. “What are you listening to?”

She pulled out one earbud and put it into his ear. His eyes widened. “I didn’t know you liked Bach.”

“It’s supposed to be good for the baby. But I also listen to it when I paint. Well, not this particular piece, but something else.”

“Which one?”

“Some scary and dramatic pipe-organ piece. I can’t remember the name. But the article I read said this was better.”

“Who’s the cellist?” Gavin asked, returning the earbud to her.

“I don’t know. I bought the first one that popped up. There were like a million mp3s of this.”

“I see.” He went to the sound system.

While he fiddled with it, Fern came in with a big tray full of scrambled eggs, cheese slices, croissants with warm butter, fresh fruit salad and yogurt plus a pot of coffee and a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice.

“I wasn’t sure what you wanted,” she said, placing the tray on the coffee table in front of Amandine. “This is what Mr. Gavin eats for breakfast whenever he visits. If you’d like something else, just let me know.”

“This is great.” Amandine smiled at the housekeeper. “Thank you.”

Fern gave her a nod that was almost a bow and left. Gavin returned and took the other armchair as the room filled with the cello piece she’d been listening to earlier. They ate their eggs and croissants while the music went on, then restarted. When Gavin didn’t get up to check the player, she frowned. He wasn’t the type to listen to the same thing over and over again. Oh wait. Something was different… Maybe a different performer?

“This isn’t the same file, is it?” she asked, hating not knowing.

“Correct.” He looked at her over the rim of his coffee mug. “Which do you like better?”

She considered. “This one.”

“Why?”

Was this some kind of test? A lot of people in Gavin’s circle were knowledgeable about classical music. To her it was unknown territory, except for a few popular tunes she recognized from TV shows and commercials.

Gavin gave her a bemused smile. “There is no right or wrong answer.”

Well then. “It’s warmer and gentler. It’s almost like the cellist is performing just for one person…someone really special to him.”

“Not bad.” He chuckled. “And you’re going to thrill Damien with that assessment.”

“Damien?”

“Damien Kirk. He’s the cellist. A good friend of mine. The version you prefer is his latest recording.”

“He’s talented.”

“Amazingly so, but he works even harder. At the top level, everyone’s talented.”

“So what’s special about him then? Just a lot of hard work?”

Gavin studied her face for a long moment. “No. He got married.”

“Must be love.” Amandine could feel herself prickling with envy. She’d wanted something like that. Instead what she had was a one-sided relationship. No matter how delicious Gavin was in bed, she couldn’t help but think it wasn’t the same thing as
love
.

Amandine put the fork down. “I’m full now.”

He glanced at her plate, at least half-covered with food. “You should have a little more.”

“If I eat any more, I might puke.”

Gavin leaned forward, his eyes probing. “Morning sickness?”

“No. From being over-stuffed.” She went to the walk-in closet and changed into a white sleeveless tunic and beige shorts. She squirted a generous dollop of sunblock and smeared it over her exposed skin.

“Where are you off to?” Gavin asked.

“Explore the outside before it gets too hot.” She took a bottle of water from the table.

“Let me come with you.”

He started to rise, but she put a hand over his chest. “There’s no need. Why don’t you check your email or something? I’m sure you have a lot of work to do.”

A dark frown said he didn’t want to do as she suggested.

“I won’t be long. And I’ll take my phone. Just in case.”

He nodded. His computer hard disk was probably ready to explode with new emails.

Shoving her phone into the back pocket of her shorts, she left the house. At the beach, tanned workers in black trunks combed the sand for debris. Good lord. She’d seen people doing work like that at resorts, but never expected the Lloyds would have the same service on their beach.

The waves were gentle as they swept up the moist sand underneath her toes. The sun sat low and bright on the horizon, golden where it met the water. The ocean looked bluer in the morning, almost aquamarine. Amandine stared at the light fracturing over the ever-moving water surface, each section like an instant of stained glass. The scene before her would look gorgeous on canvas, although she rarely painted landscapes. She should’ve brought her art supplies. She’d assumed the second honeymoon would be rather torturous with Gavin trying to convince her to stay by throwing more things at her while he simultaneously directed everyone at his office halfway around the world. But that wasn’t how it was turning out. It was like Gavin wanted to see her soul.

If he knew how she felt about him, would he reciprocate her love…or turn away in embarrassment and pity?

Her phone rang. She frowned when the ID showed it was her brother calling. What time was it in L.A.? “Hello?”

“Amandine, what are you doing?” Pete’s voice sounded strained. “How can you divorce Gavin?”

She stopped—literally—in her tracks. “Where did you hear that?” Brooke wouldn’t have told anyone.

“It’s on Facebook!”

Oh god. “What, a news article or something? What’s it say?”

“There are photos of you and Gavin going into Jones & Jones. With Craig Richmond.”

She sighed.

“Nobody goes to Jones & Jones for lunch,” Pete said.

“Who posted them?”

“Who cares? The point is, you’re getting a divorce!”

Wincing, she held the phone away from her ear. If yelling were an Olympic sport, Pete would’ve won a gold medal. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“Doesn’t con— Amandine, I’m your brother! And I work for your husband, in case you forgot.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “We can talk about this when I’m back in the States, but if you feel that awkward, quit.”

“And do what?” Pete sounded positively aghast.

“Update your résumé. Get another job. Didn’t you say Sterling & Wilson offered a while back? Maybe you can go there.”

“They’re in Texas!”

Amandine closed her eyes.
Breathe deep
.
In and out
. This was supposed to be a relaxing walk, not a job counseling session for her brother. “Okay, well, try Wall Street.”