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Innocent Cinderella: His Untamed Innocent / Penniless and Purchased / Her Last Night of Innocence

Год написания книги
2019
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Sleep? thought Marin. How could she possibly do that with everything that had just happened still churning in her mind?

Especially when she’d never shared a bed before with anyone before—let alone a man.

But she hadn’t expected to find his warm body so comfortable to relax against, or the resonance of his heartbeat under her cheek so soothing, she told herself with a little contented sigh. And slept.

A pale, grey light was beginning to penetrate the room when she opened her eyes. For a moment Marin lay still, slightly disorientated, aware of little more than the delicious lassitude permeating her entire being, wondering drowsily what had disturbed her slumber.

Then she turned her head slowly and saw Jake propped up on one elbow, watching her, and realised with a lift of her heart that she’d been woken by the touch of his lips.

‘Hey,’ he said softly. ‘Remember me?’

She stretched languidly, deliberately, observing the flare of his blue gaze as the covering sheet slipped down her body. She pretended to frown.

‘I’m not altogether sure. Maybe you could—jog my memory?’

‘With pleasure.’ His hand cupped her breast, the ball of his thumb rubbing slowly across the nipple. ‘Does that strike a chord?’

‘Mmm,’ she murmured thoughtfully. ‘Something seems to be stirring in the back of my mind.’

‘Is that all?’ There was a quiver of open amusement in his voice as he let his hand slide down her body to the soft mound at the junction of her thighs. ‘Maybe—this will be more help…’

It was suddenly difficult to breathe or even to think as his fingers caressed her, lightly, teasingly. She managed, ‘If you could be—a little more specific…’

And made a sound between a laugh and a sob of delight as he pulled her towards him, under him, raising her legs to lock round him as he entered her.

Impossible, she thought, her senses in free fall as she clung to his shoulders, that she could be so ready for him. Impossible, even shameful, that she should be so eager—so hungry, enclosing him in her moist and willing heat, as her body offered the counterpoint to each firm and powerful thrust that was carrying her away with him to heaven.

Even so he made her wait, keeping her balanced for an eternity on some knife-edge of trembling desire before driving her into the harsh sweetness of orgasm. And when she cried out, her voice ragged, she heard him answer her.

She slept again, wrapped in his arms, and awoke to the first streaks of sunrise. They had moved a little apart at some point, and Marin turned on to her side, letting her eyes explore every detail of the magnificent, naked body sprawled beside her. The first time, she realised, she had ever really looked at him. Or had the leisure to do so, she conceded, a mischievous smile curving her lips.

Her first hint that he was awake and fully aware of her fascinated scrutiny was his politely uttered, ‘Good morning.’

She jumped guiltily. ‘Thank you. And an even better one to you.’ She paused. ‘So—you do have an all-over tan.’

His eyes opened and he lifted a lazy brow. ‘You mean, you’d actually wondered?’ he asked and grinned. ‘Life just gets better.’

‘No,’ she protested too hastily. ‘No, of course not.’

His smile widened. ‘Fibber.’ He rolled over, pulling her towards him and kissing her on the tip of her nose. ‘Whereas you, my virtuous angel, have clearly been wearing a bikini at some recent date—even if you wouldn’t do so this weekend. And it covered you from here…’ He trailed his lips across the swell of her breasts just above her nipples. ‘To there.’ His tongue traced her cleavage and beyond.

‘And from here,’ he added, skimming a finger from the curve of one hip to the other. ‘Down to—here.’ He paused, lingering, deliberately tantalising. ‘So—what colour was it?’

She swallowed, her skin warming helplessly at his touch. ‘Why do you want to know?’

‘So I can imagine taking it off,’ Jake whispered, and began to kiss her again.

Afterwards he slept again, one arm thrown across her, but she could not. The room was golden with sunshine now, and she felt part of it, part of all that warmth and promise, her perceptions heightened—coloured by what had happened to her here. Her body felt entirely different too, her skin seeming to tingle—to glow.

Nor was it because she was quite definitely aching a little. More than a little, if she was really honest.

And, more prosaically, she was hungry.

Careful not to disturb him, she slid from under his imprisoning arm and tiptoed across to her room, retrieving her dress and briefs en route and putting them away.

Then, picking out a straight, white linen skirt, a silky black top and some underwear, she went into the bathroom. She filled the tub with warm water, adding fragrant bath-oil, and sank into it with a sigh of contentment.

She thought, I’ve lost my virginity. And paused, because that was hardly an accurate description of what had transpired last night.

‘I didn’t lose a thing,’ she told herself defiantly. ‘I gave it away, freely, willingly and quite gloriously.’

The kind of behaviour she’d always secretly condemned. And yet she didn’t regret a thing. How could she?

In retrospect it had not been exactly what she’d anticipated, mainly because she’d not expected him to be quite so considerate— so gentle. From what she’d gleaned from the giggled conversations of female colleagues, it had seemed that men, carried away in the throes of passion, could behave very differently.

And she wondered if, perhaps, Jake had made allowances for her ignorance of what really turned men on.

She sat up abruptly. What the hell was she thinking? Was she deliberately trying to tarnish the sheer magic of what had happened between them?

It was wonderful, she thought. And he made it wonderful. There was no more to it than that.

Half an hour later, bathed and dressed, she went to his door and peeped in to see if he was awake, but he hadn’t stirred, so she made her way downstairs alone.

She could hear the buzz of conversation from the dining room, and knew suddenly that food could wait. That she didn’t want to see anyone just yet.

That she wanted to hug last night and its secrets to her a little longer.

She went through the drawing room and out on to the terrace, standing by the balustrade and looking out over the gardens. The lawns looked particularly inviting, she thought, as if they were waiting for her to dance across them—or turn a cartwheel for sheer joy.

Her face splintered into a grin. ‘As if,’ she told herself, and turned to go back in the house, nearly cannoning into Diana Halsay, who was standing right behind her.

‘Well, well,’ Diana said softly. ‘You look very pleased with yourself this morning. Has Jake taken pity on you at last?’ Her eyes swept Marin from head to foot in a piercing assessment. ‘Why, I do believe that he has.’ She laughed. ‘Not just belle-laide any more, but well and truly laid, if I’m any judge.’

Marin said, ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Only to be totally betrayed by the bright wave of colour that was sweeping from her toes up to the roots of her hair, making her burn with humiliation under the other’s all-knowing gaze.

‘I suppose it was inevitable,’ Diana went on, musing. ‘Even though it may not have been what he intended originally.

‘You see, I was never fooled by that “here’s my new girlfriend” routine. Graham may think it’s love, that Jake’s met his fate at last, but we three know that isn’t true—don’t we? That it’s all just a clever trick to get the sexy Mr Radley-Smith off the hook—the ultimate PR spin.’

She shrugged. ‘I suppose you hinted to Jake that I didn’t believe it. Making him realise he might need to take—stronger measures to make his little deception really plausible.

‘And you weren’t exactly unwilling, were you, my dear? Or subtle about what you wanted. In fact, everyone noticed how you’ve been trailing after him all weekend with your tongue hanging out. As Sylvia said, like a starving kid outside a baker’s window. And Jake, like a perfect gentleman, has duly obliged, thus killing two birds with one stone. So in one way you owe me a vote of thanks, or he might never have bothered.’

There was sudden nausea, hot and bitter, in Marin’s throat. She swallowed. ‘How—how dare you talk to me like this? I refuse to listen to any more.’

‘How very disappointing,’ Diana said brightly. ‘When at last we have something in common to discuss.’ She paused, a little smile curling her mouth. ‘He’s good, isn’t he?’ She lowered her voice intimately, sister to sister, talking about a pleasure shared. ‘Knows all the right buttons to press, as it were. I’m sure he rewarded you very generously for being such a good girl.’

She gave a little gurgle of laughter. ‘However, I presume he wasn’t in one of his more adventurous moods, or you probably wouldn’t be able to walk this morning.’
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