Chapter Six
CONALL WATCHED HER reactions as if in slow motion.
Shock. Disbelief. Elation. Confusion.
Had he really done such a good job of hiding his desire? It had taken superhuman effort to be patient all this time and not push her too hard.
In the recesses of his mind he heard his tattered conscience scream that he’d promised to hold back.
But when Greer turned up at his door pleading for forgiveness he felt a complete heel. She wasn’t the one who should beg for forgiveness.
That knot in his belly tightened, giving a sickening wrench. He wanted to tell her everything and end the constraint between them, but for her sake he had to take this one step at a time.
Unselfish of you, Abercrombie! Sure you’re not just protecting yourself?
He ignored the taunting voice. They couldn’t go on the way they were. Something had to change and he refused to let her feel guilty for no reason.
As for his own sins… That dreadful burden wasn’t going to shift and there’d be a reckoning eventually, he knew. But for now Greer needed more and so did he.
‘Conall? Are you talking about needing me in the office, or…?’
He watched her swallow, the movement jerky. Her hands twisted. The sight of her so tentative killed something inside. He’d always admired her confidence, her willingness to take on any challenge.
Even him.
‘I’m talking about you, Greer.’ He stepped closer, unable to keep away. ‘I want you as a man wants a woman.’ Her sharp indrawn breath sliced the air. ‘I’ve wanted you from that first day you came to my office, trying to hide your nerves about taking a job you felt you weren’t right for.’
Her eyes bulged and, despite the tension racking him, Conall felt his mouth twist in stark amusement.
Yes, for him it had been that quick.
She’d worn similar clothes that day. A straight skirt and tailored jacket over a pale blouse. No doubt she thought it made her look professional, as if he wouldn’t notice the firm thrust of her breasts and the way her skirt outlined her hips, buttocks and thighs.
Heat shot through him, a stroking flame, and he had to shove his hands into his trouser pockets, clenching them against the fierce urge to grab her and not let go.
He was breaking a promise to himself by admitting his need. But the one promise he wouldn’t break was to let her decide what happened next.
He watched as she considered his words, looking for hidden meanings.
Nothing was as sexy as Greer turning things over in her mind, that tiny half frown on her forehead and the hint of a pout on her lips. From the first her incisive mind had challenged and provoked and beckoned until he was all but slavering for her.
How many times had they sat in a meeting with him hard as a rock, trying not to respond to her allure because she worked for him?
‘You want me…sexually?’
‘I do.’ Still she looked unconvinced so he gave the unvarnished truth. ‘I can taste you. Even now I can feel your body against mine. The need for you has been humming in my veins so long, I can’t remember what it’s like not to want you.’
Her mouth gaped but instead of respecting her shock, the devil in him urged him closer. That open mouth was an invitation to glorious intimacy.
Except, he owed her a choice in this.
Who was he kidding? If he had any scruples he’d have found a way to manage the situation without confessing how much he needed her.
He stepped back.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Trying not to crowd you.’
Her head tilted to one side. ‘And that would be a bad thing because?’
‘Because…’ His voice seeped out between gritted teeth. ‘You haven’t said how you feel about that.’
She’d wanted him that night in her apartment but maybe she regretted that now. Perhaps she’d just turned to him because she was feeling overwhelmed about other things. He couldn’t blame her for that.
He grimaced, remembering everything she’d gone through. It tore at something deep within, a terrible rending sensation. It was something he’d only experienced since Greer. Her pain was his.
‘Conall, what is it?’
He shook his head. ‘You know I want you, but how do you feel about me, Greer?’ He was desperate to know.
She slicked her bottom lip as if preparing to speak, then paused. He forced his gaze away from her mouth and saw her hands work, her thumb rubbing a finger in a nervous habit that always undid him.
‘If you weren’t my boss, I’d say I want you, so badly it keeps me awake at night.’
A huge breath he hadn’t known he’d held escaped in a rush. Aching muscles in his neck and shoulders eased. After so long in purgatory maybe things would be all right after all.
He looked down into dazed, ink-blue eyes and realised he’d closed the space between them with one stride.
He swallowed, the movement painful as if gravel lined his throat.
He was so close he drew the scent of her into starved lungs.
‘And if I said our work situation has no bearing on this? I won’t let that matter, no matter what happens between us. ’
‘Then I’d be…tempted.’
Conall couldn’t hold back any longer. The need to touch was too strong.
He set his hands on her elbows, skimming up her arms, not slowing until he reached the soft skin of her neck, the underside of her jaw where her pulse throbbed as fast as his own.
Her skin was like silk and his hands lingered then slid up to cup her cheeks.
His voice dropped to a bass note that scraped up from his belly. ‘Would you like me to tempt you a little more?’
Say yes.
The thought of dropping his hands was unbearable.
Warm fingers covered his and an electric shock jolted him.
Holding his gaze, she pulled one of his hands away and pressed her lips to his palm. A sigh shuddered out of him as the blood left his head and raced south.
‘Greer.’ The single syllable revealed all his yearning and he didn’t care. Nothing mattered beyond the fact she wasn’t pulling away. His pulse roared in exultation.
She lifted his other hand and nuzzled the centre of his palm as if drawing in his essence. Fire seared his veins. Her lips moved against his palm, and it was exquisite pleasure and torture combined.
‘No need to tempt me, Conall. I want you too.’ Her eyes locked on his and his flesh grew tight. ‘I think I…need you.’
He wrapped his arms around her, her words shifting the unbearable weight he’d carried so long. Joy burst free as she moved into his tightening embrace with an easy familiarity that hit him with the force of a sledgehammer.
How he’d held back from her all this time he didn’t know.
But then her brow creased. ‘Have we done this before? It feels like it.’
‘You were in my arms last weekend, remember? I held you and we kissed.’
Slowly she shook her head, hands flattening on his collarbone. ‘I don’t mean that. Before, were we lovers?’
Her words shook him to the core. All this time, could she have been as tortured as he?
Conall had been leaning forward to kiss her but his head reared back, his heart pounding. What could he say? He’d been told not to force her memories or try to lead her towards them, but to let her recover the memories naturally.
Unless, of course, she never did.
Pain slashed his midsection, lacerating and twisting.
‘If you’re telling yourself you want me, just because you think we had a relationship in the past, you’re doing us both a disservice.’ Reluctantly he dropped his hands. ‘This shouldn’t be about what you think happened before but what you feel now.’
He deserved a bloody medal. Pulling back from her went against every instinct.
‘But if you tell me we were lovers…’
‘Should that make a difference? The point is what you feel now. I want you in my bed but you have to be sure what you feel.’
For him it wasn’t want, it was bone-hollowing need.
He moved again so they were no longer touching.
For an aching, soul-destroying moment he was alone.
Then she muttered, ‘Damn you and your conscience, Conall Abercrombie,’ and followed him, wrapping her arms tight around his back and pressing in close.
He considered telling her it wasn’t solely his conscience motivating him. Self-interest played a huge part. When she knew the whole truth, things would change irrevocably.
But then she stretched up and put her mouth on his.
She kissed him and he changed in an instant. All reserve vanished. Conall swept her to him in a crushing embrace that felt like heaven. His mouth covered hers with such slow, devastating deliberation that her knees turned to water and her thoughts tangled and frayed.
He was everything. So big, so powerful, so deliciously male. The taste of him was like a drug in her bloodstream, making her crave more with each caress.
Reaching up, she plunged her hands into his thick hair, holding him fast and drawing him close. The instinct to have him, not let him go, wasn’t decent or civilised. It was everything.
A wave of feeling rose up and engulfed her, them. For she was sure he felt it too. A shudder passed through them both, rocking them as if the earth quaked beneath their feet. Yet she’d never felt more sure of anything.
So right and so very, very good.
Yet it was nowhere near enough.
Greer shifted her weight, restlessly trying to ease the fever-pitch ache between her thighs. She lifted one leg, only to be stymied by her narrow skirt.
‘I need to be closer.’
Conall lifted his head enough to scorch her with those glittering dark eyes. She would have protested him breaking the kiss, except then he was sweeping her up into his arms as easily as she carried her laptop.
Tthere it was again, a mix of acceptance and elation, as if she’d been waiting for him to take her in his embrace. As if it were the most natural thing in the world. Anticipation spiked and she leaned against his shoulder as he turned around.
But instead of carrying her to one of those vast lounges, he bypassed them.
‘Conall? Aren’t we going to…’
Make love? Have sex? None of those words seemed to fit. Because her need for him felt like the difference between life and death.