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She turned her head aside from the erotic intensity of his stare and felt his breath moist in her ear, feathering up into her hair as he leaned even closer, his legs crowding against hers, his tie sliding against the front of her tunic, settling lightly between her breasts. ‘Like what, Rachel? Tell me…how do I look at you?’ he asked as she tried to hold herself rigidly aloof from the tumult of fire in her blood.
He nuzzled at the point of her jaw just below her ear and licked a hot trail back up to her soft lobe.
‘How do I look? As if I want to eat you?’ He nipped at the succulent flesh, keeping it captive between his teeth as she arched her neck away, then releasing it to press his open mouth into the sensitive hollow between the stem of her neck and her collarbone and drink in the taste and texture of her skin. ‘That’s because I do! God, how can someone so bad taste so damned good…?’ he groaned.
Since she was fifteen Rachel’s worst nightmare had been to find herself pinned down by superior strength, trapped and helpless against a greedy male assault. But where was the revulsion, the fear and the fury to defend herself now? She was rendered helpless—not by the violence of Matthew’s sexual need, but the uncontrollable desires that raced recklessly through her own veins.
Her hands, which should have been groping for a way to swiftly incapacitate him, were instead sliding around his waist underneath his jacket, her arms slowly contracting until her breasts were crushing satisfyingly tight against his crisp cotton shirt-front. Her knee, which should have been aimed in a punishing jab between his legs, was instead obeying a more primal instinct, slowly rubbing up and down the outside of his thigh as he worked his lower torso deeper into the fork of her body.
His hair, soft and fragrant with natural musk, brushed her nose and cheek as his marauding mouth strayed over her throat, her chin, her cheekbones, her eyes, everywhere but where she desperately wanted it to be…Reason spun beyond her reach as she relinquished her fragile grasp on reality and cast herself adrift on a storm-tossed sea of pure emotion.
‘Matt…’ She tunnelled her hands up between his shoulder blades and raked her trim nails all the way down the length of his back, hard enough for him to feel the sharp scrape through the polished cotton.
He arched and shuddered, sensation pooling at the base of his spine and spilling over into his loins. ‘Witch…!’ His hands, which had been gripping the edges of the shelf in a futile attempt at self-control, swooped down to her flanks, smoothing up her thighs and over her womanly hips, tracing the rounded shape of her full bottom through the filmy skirt, snagging his fingers in the soft gathers as he kneaded her against his growing hardness.
Thready gasps mingled with whispered sighs and the rustle of cloth as their mutual excitement exploded into hungry passion. And still he had not kissed her…!
Matthew’s rough-shaven jaw rasped tantalisingly across Rachel’s soft lips, and with a stifled sound of frustration she clenched her hands in his thick dark hair, holding his head still so that she could at last find the intimacy that she craved. He resisted only long enough to wrench off his spectacles and shove them blindly into his jacket pocket, then his mouth was settling hotly over hers.
It was everything she had wished, everything her dream had promised…sinfully sweet and deliciously devouring; steamy, wet and wonderful. Her breasts grew heavy and her limbs weighted as his tongue stroked inside her, limber and strong, sliding against the slippery surfaces of her mouth, exploring the ripples in her arched palate and delving into the silky recesses beneath her tongue. He kissed and withdrew, kissed and withdrew, biting and sucking at her lips with each lingering withdrawal and slanting his head to make each invasion different…deeper, slower, longer…more flagrantly erotic…
She revelled in the straining tension of Matthew’s body, time ceasing to matter as she felt his hands begin to move up her body, massaging it through the thin silk. When he came to her breasts, and found her nipples barricaded behind a wall of impenetrable lace, he uttered a whispered curse and kissed her with a punishing force that she returned in glorious measure, sinking her teeth into his lower lip and reaching down to draw teasing fingers across the taut bulge at the front of his trousers.
A rattle on the door-handle was all the warning they received as a freckle-faced young nurse suddenly invaded their illusion of privacy. They wrenched apart, far too late for any polite pretence as to what they’d been doing.
‘Er…I just came in to get an extra pillow for a patient,’ the nurse stammered, her eyes rounding at the sight of their flushed faces and rumpled clothes. Matthew recovered first, reaching up to pull one off the shelf just above them.
‘Here, have this one.’ His reddened mouth curved sardonically. ‘We certainly weren’t going to need it.’
He made it sound as if they had been about to make love standing up! Although goodness knows how far things would have gone if they hadn’t been interrupted, Rachel was forced to concede. With a muffled sound of horror she noticed the photographs which Matthew had knocked off the shelf face-up under her feet, and bent to snatch them up, shielding them with her bulky bag.
‘Thanks.’ The nurse hugged the pillow to her breast as she backed towards the door, summoning the courage to venture, ‘Umm…you’re really not supposed to be doing—uh—what you’re doing in here, you know…’
‘Honey,’ growled Matthew, ‘we’re not supposed to be doing it anywhere!’
‘She probably thinks we’re a pair of guilty adulterers,’ Rachel com
plained as they beat a hasty retreat. This time it didn’t matter if she took the lift. She had already been thoroughly rumbled.
‘Or a brother and sister,’ he said, replacing his glasses as they stepped into the empty lift.
She looked at him in disgust, trying not to remember that only minutes ago she had been wax in his arms. ‘Trust you to think of something perverted!’
He straightened his tie. ‘I’m sure you could match me in perversity. We do seem to be making a habit of being caught in flagrante delicto.’ He looked at her with a smile of grim satisfaction. ‘And this latest incident certainly alters the stakes between us, doesn’t it?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, the blackmail game seems a little unproductive. I think I’m ready to graduate to something more…stimulating.’
‘Like what?’ asked Rachel, already guessing from his dangerous expression that she was going to hate his answer.
‘Like kidnapping!’
CHAPTER SIX
RACHEL’S fingers hovered over the electronic box set flush into the white plaster wall, itching to try out the keypad. Birthdate? Wedding day?
‘Forget it. It’s tamper-proof.’
