CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SIX
T HE END OF winter had brought a freeze and the view beyond the deep-set window was stunning. The rolling countryside shone white with snow, topped by a rare blue sky that seemed to go on forever.
When Portia suggested a walk before lunch, he’d agreed automatically. Because what pleased her brought him pleasure too. Besides, logic decreed that after two nights at this exclusive retreat they should finally venture further than their suite.
But they’d got sidetracked and the vision before him was so much better than any bucolic view.
Portia’s hair glowed like dark honey in the sunlight streaming across the bed. Her hair curtained her upper back, except at her spine where he’d kissed his way down from her nape to a spot between her shoulder blades.
He lowered his mouth again, nipping this time and feeling her naked body twitch beneath his, her rump sliding against his erection.
Lex paused, telling himself that this time he wouldn’t rush. This time he’d conquer the driving need to have her as soon and as thoroughly as possible.
He drew back on his knees, clenching his teeth at the loss of contact. He concentrated instead on the taste of her as he kissed his way lower, and the incredible softness of her flesh beneath his palms. Her murmurs of wordless encouragement and delight made him want to take her to the stars again.
Lower he went, hands shaping her waist, mouth nipping and kissing each vertebra. She twisted beneath him, breathing ragged, and he knew she wouldn’t last long. Soon she’d beg for completion. He loved the husky sound of her saying his name, urging, demanding or crying out in triumph or even shock as ecstasy took them.
He couldn’t get enough of it. Of her.
Today was Sunday and they had to return to London later. His scheme to incinerate this all-consuming lust by stoking the fire until it turned to ashes hadn’t worked.
They needed more time. They needed—
Below him she gave a sinuous wriggle, making his hands tighten on the swell of her hips. The shape of her, those devastatingly feminine curves, even the narrow splay of her shoulders, gleaming beneath her rumpled hair, sidetracked his thoughts.
Then she lifted herself up on her knees, her buttocks circling against his engorged penis. It all felt so perfect he feared he’d explode there and then.
He pulled back a little, at the same time smoothing his hands along the downward tilt of her body towards her shoulders, detouring to sweep out and brush the sides of her plump breasts.
‘Lex.’
His skin tightened at the sound. His name on her lips was voluptuous, a sensual promise and a sigh of gratification melded into one.
The remaining blood pumping in his arteries surged south. She pushed back again and suddenly he was the one on the edge of control when moments ago she’d been lax and sleepy while he’d led the erotic interplay.
Every time, she turned the tables.
Not making sex a contest, but simply undoing him.
Portia lifted her upper body, grasping the headboard, and he took the opportunity to capture her breasts fully, kneading and stroking them, torturing himself and her with how magnificent that felt.
Gently he pinched her nipples and she hissed a breath, shifting against his groin.
Stars sprinkled the edges of his vision as everything grew tighter, harder.
‘Are you ready, Chrysi mou ?’
He heard muffled laughter, quickly stifled. ‘Can’t you tell?’
She was amused? While he was racked with pleasure-pain at the effort it took to control himself?
He released one breast, tracing a line all the way down her body to the cleft between her legs. His fingers found slick, wet heat and she pushed convulsively into his touch.
‘Lex!’
He heard the strain in her voice and knew they were equals in this, had been from the start. Yet he wasn’t used to feeling so completely at the mercy of impulses he couldn’t control.
‘Tell me you’ve already got that condom on.’
‘I’m always prepared.’
Sex was too important for carelessness. He was meticulous about that and, he dimly realised, so was Portia.
‘I can’t imagine you as a Scout.’ He heard a gurgle of laughter and this time he found himself smiling despite the way his body strained.
Lex nudged her knees wider, lifting her hips, and let himself slide between her legs. He shuddered, close to physical overload.
‘They wouldn’t have let me join the Scouts.’ He clenched his teeth as he positioned himself against her. ‘They met on your father’s land.’
‘He couldn’t have stopped...oh!’
Yes, oh. It never ceased to amaze him how perfect their union was. Every time. Whether rushed and desperate or more considered, at least in the beginning. Each time it felt like the world stopped turning.
Sensation juddered through him as he guided himself home. For the longest moment they both held still, absorbing the wonder of it. Then Lex had to move. Because he was only human and his need for Portia was too strong.
Gripping her hips, he eased back then drove hard, relishing the way she met him, creating a rhythm of surge and retreat that tantalised and heightened their need.
The way they moved together made his brain blank so that all he could think of was Portia and their incredible, tantalising journey towards completion.
Knowing how she responded to his touch, he leaned forward to cup one bobbing breast.
Okay, you like it too. That soft weight, just the perfect size for your palm.
Their rhythm sped up, smooth movements becoming staccato. Breaths growing choppy. Friction impossibly arousing. Until he felt the tight tickle of sensation around his lower body and knew he couldn’t last.
Lex leaned in, his chest to her back, finding the place at the side of her neck that made her shiver. Gently he nipped her there. Grabbing the bed head with one hand, he slid the other down her body, tracing each undulation of torso and belly before delving between her thighs again.
There. That gasp of breath. The shiver across her skin that became a clenching shudder of internal muscles, greedily claiming him.
For a moment Lex hovered on the brink of smugness. Because he’d lasted long enough to bring Portia undone. Then a climax hit them both, a single wave crashing over the pair of them, catching them up and hurling them into another dimension.
Pleasure was too mild a word for what he felt. It was everything. Fire. Bliss. Pure ecstasy. Possessiveness too. Satisfaction. Joy at her rapture. And shock at how perfect the moment. Lex squeezed his eyes shut against the final, phantom shudders.
As the blaze of golden light finally receded and he came back to himself, he knew a hint of disquiet.
Far from satisfying his hunger, this weekend had done nothing to diminish his need for Portia.
The suspicion of disquiet grew. He felt like a swimmer who’d overestimated his abilities as deep water closed overhead. As if he’d ventured out of his depth.
Lex dragged diamond-sharp air into his lungs, feeling the cold clear his head. ‘You were right. It would have been a shame, returning to the city without getting out into the fresh air.’
Portia slanted him a sideways look from dark eyes. ‘Do you miss it? The countryside?’
‘Greece has countryside too, you know.’
‘You know what I mean. The English countryside.’
The way she said it reminded him of how much she’d loved Cropley Hall. She’d been a country girl at heart.
Their footsteps crunched loud on the frozen ground as he let the silence lengthen, considering.
He’d been a country boy. He’d been just a toddler when he and his mother had moved in with her uncle. As a child, Lex had loved the place. The adventures to be had. The animals and birds. The freedom.
It was only as he grew older and bore the brunt of disapproval and suspicion for being different that things changed. He’d chafed at the restrictions of living in such a small community, longing for opportunities that beckoned elsewhere. Longing for a chance to prove himself.
He would have left earlier, but for Portia.
They stopped at a summerhouse overlooking a small lake and he felt a tug of pleasure.
They’d grown up several counties away from here but the rolling hills, frost-edged forest and view across the water towards a nearby village held both beauty and familiarity.
Yet it had been easy to turn his back on England, believing it had nothing to offer him.
‘I’ve been too busy to feel homesick. Besides, Greece is my home now.’ It still surprised him, how easily he’d adjusted to life there. How Greek he felt.
As if reading his thoughts, Portia said, ‘I think it’s remarkable. You didn’t even speak the language. How did you even know your father was there? You said your mother never spoke about him.’
He shoved his hands deep in his pockets. ‘She didn’t. She refused to discuss him. As I grew older I wondered if he’d treated her badly and that’s why she wouldn’t talk about him. Or if she’d even known who he was.’
Portia moved closer, slipping her arm through his and staring at the scene. Their breaths were visible plumes in the frigid air that mingled before disappearing.
Being with her after all this time, talking with her, was far easier than he’d believed possible in the days when he’d thought she’d betrayed him.
It was incredibly easy being with Portia like this. No strings, no expectations.
This was supposed to be nothing more than sex yet it felt like there was something more. He supposed it was their shared past, their knowledge of each other.
For whatever reason, Lex found himself revealing what he’d told no one apart from his father.
‘I went to Greece on a hunch.’
It hadn’t been his original plan. When he’d thought he’d have Portia with him the idea had been to stay in the UK, find somewhere they could both find work.
‘It must have been based on something.’
Lex shrugged. ‘I found something a long time ago, at the back of a cupboard. Just a paper bag, printed with what I thought at first were mathematical equations, because I’d just started learning algebra. Then I realised I was looking at Greek letters making words, not maths.’
He’d stood there puzzling over the letters until his mother discovered him and snatched the bag away. He’d never seen it again. She’d blustered about him prying but refused to meet his eyes and her mood had been bad for weeks afterwards.
‘My mother’s reaction made it obvious it was something she didn’t want me to know about. So I set about trying to learn more.’
Most people he’d known then would have made some comment about him always seeking out trouble. Portia simply nodded. Had she guessed how incomplete he’d felt, not knowing who his father was? How deeply he’d felt the sneers and jibes about his mother and himself, though he’d taken pride in never showing weakness?
‘I’d memorised some of the symbols and researched them with a bit of help at the library. I remembered just enough to translate one word. Athens. I’d assumed she, or someone she knew, had bought something at a shop in Athens.’
‘And you thought that someone might have been your father.’
‘It was an incredibly long shot.’ But as a kid he’d been desperate to find out the truth about himself. To find his father. ‘But it was the only possible lead I had.’
He cleared his throat. ‘One of the library branches had an old teach yourself Greek book. I borrowed it so often over the years that when it grew too tatty to stay in circulation, the librarian gave it to me. I used to read it at night in bed.’
Portia’s hand squeezed his arm. ‘You never said.’
He nodded. This was the one secret he’d kept from her. Because giving voice to his hopes would have shown how faint they really were? Was he, even then, trying to be a macho male, impervious to weakness?
‘What was there to say? I knew I was probably building something out of nothing.’
She leaned close, her breasts against his arm. ‘But it gave you purpose and hope.’
Lex turned to look down into eyes of deepest purple-brown. He’d shared so much with her, all those years ago. But he thought he’d concealed the feeling that a vital part of himself was missing.
He was surprised at how easy it was to accept her understanding. He’d spent so long keeping his emotions to himself.
‘So that’s why you went to Greece.’
He nodded. ‘There was nothing to keep me in Britain.’ He felt her minute flinch and almost regretted his words. But it was true. He’d felt betrayed and alone. His huff of laughter was forced. ‘It turns out I’d learnt a lot of useful grammar but my pronunciation was woeful and my words very stilted and old-fashioned.’
‘But you did it. You taught yourself. And you found your father. All because you followed your instinct. I’m so happy everything worked out for you, Lex.’
Automatically he nodded. He had a wonderful life. Challenging work. Friends. Family. A beautiful home as well as wealth. Yet...
‘How did you find him? There are millions of people in Athens.’
‘You give me too much credit. I’d never have found him. It was sheer luck. I was working a couple of jobs. I finished each evening doing a shift as a kitchen hand in a restaurant. One night the owner’s father came into the kitchen. He made a fuss about how I looked like his old friend when he was younger. We thought he was exaggerating. But then weeks later he brought his friend to the restaurant and the pair of them were convinced the resemblance was no coincidence.’
Warmth filled him at the memory. It had taken a while to sort out the details but from the first his father had accepted him.
That implicit trust had been rare in Lex’s life. He’d only had it twice before. From his mother’s uncle who recognised Lex’s way with animals, and from Portia.
‘Tell me about your father.’
She flinched and would have pulled away except he held her arm close to his side.
‘I don’t like talking about him.’
‘Give me the abridged version then.’
‘He’s dead. What else do you want to know?’
Lex stifled the knowledge that he was pushing into territory that was painful for her. He didn’t enjoy talking about his mother who’d been difficult and moody. But surely he deserved to know what happened to the man who’d destroyed their plans.
‘His actions impacted me too, remember.’
Portia slipped her arm from his and turned to face him, her expression hard to read. ‘You know that because of what he did you went to Greece and eventually found your father. He’d have hated knowing he’d done you a good turn, however backhanded.’
Lex nodded. The irony hadn’t escaped him. But his curiosity wasn’t spiteful. It wasn’t for himself he wanted to know but because he had a growing suspicion that locking his daughter up wasn’t the worst Portia’s father had done to her.
Finally Portia sighed. ‘You’re so stubborn. Come on, I’ll tell you while we walk back. It’s time we packed, ready to leave.’
The reminder that their weekend was almost over punctured Lex’s satisfaction. But he nodded and turned.
Her father still had the power to drive a wedge between them. She didn’t take his arm as they walked and his pleasure in the landscape dimmed. Amazing how their good mood had been wrecked by the mere mention of the man.
When she spoke her voice was crisp. ‘I can’t really tell you much. I gather he and Raine stayed together for several years but didn’t marry.’
‘You gather? You’re not sure?’
Portia kept her gaze fixed on the country house hotel before them. ‘I never saw him after that night.’
‘You what?’
Lex slammed to a stop. After a couple steps she turned, eyebrows raised. ‘What? You thought I’d have anything to do with him after what he’d done to me? To us? That I’d meekly sit at home and let him tell me how to live my life?’
She turned and started walking, leaving Lex to follow. He caught up in three strides as she spoke again. ‘My father had done his best to make my mother miserable. He would have succeeded if she hadn’t been strong enough to stand up to him. I had no intention of letting him try to run my life so I left.’
‘He wouldn’t have liked that.’ Lex frowned, imagining the older man’s fury. ‘He must have made your life hell. Presumably he tried to get you to go back?’
‘He would have had to find me first.’
‘You ran away?’
She shot him a sideways stare from under bunched eyebrows. ‘Of course I ran away. That was always the plan.’
‘To elope with me, not alone !’
She’d been barely seventeen and despite their affair, Portia had been in many ways an innocent. She’d been protected from a lot of life’s harsh realities. Lex’s gut crawled at the idea of her na?ve and vulnerable, out on her own.
It wasn’t as if she had a lot of friends or relatives she could go to. Most if not all wouldn’t stand up to pressure from her father.
‘Well, you weren’t there, so I had no choice but to go alone. Anyway, I survived. I don’t know why you’re looking at me like that. I didn’t sell myself on the street.’
Lex swallowed hard, tasting fear. He knew how difficult it could be, fending for yourself without a support network. He’d done it himself but he’d been two years older, more experienced and not a pretty young woman.
His skin crawled, thinking about the dangers she’d faced.
He wished her father wasn’t dead. Lex would have enjoyed making him pay for his actions.
‘How did you support yourself? You didn’t have much money.’ Her father had controlled her finances.
‘I worked as a stablehand for a friend of a friend. Several hundred miles away. I did that for a long time, as well as juggling casual jobs. The pay was never good with my lack of formal qualifications but I got by. The last few years I’ve worked in London. I didn’t bother trying to hide my identity by then.’
Lex could only guess at the effort it had taken to build a CV that took her from mucking out stables to working with the elite of Mayfair.
The stable work made sense. Portia had escaped to the stables and woodland whenever she could. It was her safe place. Where she’d gone after her mother died, stressed not just from grief but, he’d always suspected, from dealing with her bombastic father.
‘If my father had wanted to find me he could have but he’d washed his hands of me.’
The man had rarely had time for his daughter, except to show her off to his fancy guests. Then he’d been proud of her looks, her equestrian skill and her engaging personality that was such an asset when he had visitors.
‘Tell me about the painting, Portia.’
She swung her head around and this time he read emotion stamped on her features, her mouth tightening. Would she tell him it was none of his business?
Instead she shrugged as if humouring him. ‘It was all he left me. That’s why I sold it. There’s an art history course I want to do and the money will give me the freedom to study.’
He was curious and wanted to know her plans. But she was only telling him so much under sufferance.
Despite physical intimacy, over the weekend Portia had only talked about her life in general terms. Movies she’d seen, books she read or the latest world news. Or art, they’d talked about art a lot.
They’d set boundaries around their personal lives. That made sense because this interlude was fleeting, designed to leave them free to move on with their lives.
Yet Lex had begun to chafe at those boundaries.
He hauled his attention back to the conversation. ‘Surely, even if the estate is entailed, your father had personal possessions he could bequeath?’
‘It’s questionable how much he still owned. Money flowed through his hands like water.’
‘What about your mother’s money?’ She’d been wealthy. ‘And her jewellery?’
Portia’s mouth tightened, as if impatient at his persistent questions. ‘I suppose he inherited her money when she died. As for the jewels, last time I saw any, Raine was wearing them.’
Lex opened his mouth then shut it, refusing to release a stream of useless invective against her father. But it was difficult to hold in his fury.
Portia slanted another sideways glance at him as they stood before the exclusive hotel. She reached out, threading her fingers through his.
‘It doesn’t matter, Lex. I didn’t expect anything from him. That night he threatened all sorts of things, including to disinherit me if I didn’t do as he wanted. So it came as no surprise when he did just that. You know he didn’t have a forgiving temperament.’
Forgiving temperament! The man had been a narcissist. Totally greedy, self-indulgent and temperamental. It was a wonder his daughter had grown up the way she had, but then Lex’s memories of her mother were all positive.
‘He still had a duty of care. And surely a legal obligation to leave you something. You were his only child.’
‘I think that’s why I inherited the painting. To show I hadn’t been left out completely, in case I tried to challenge the will.’
‘But you didn’t challenge it.’ He didn’t bother to make it a question. He knew the answer.
She looked down at their joined hands. ‘There were a few things I’d have liked, some mementos of my mother for instance. But I’ve got by without them all this time. It would just be sentiment. He probably withheld any trinkets of my mother’s, knowing I’d like them.’
Suddenly she smiled. ‘But he did me a favour. The money from the sale of the painting is a game changer. Until now I’ve been busy making ends meet and putting a little money away, but now I’ve got a financial cushion that means I can work fewer hours and focus on study.’
The double doors before them opened and a staff member emerged, carrying designer luggage down the broad steps towards a waiting car. Behind him in the foyer guests stood talking.
Impatience stirred. This wasn’t the place for a private conversation. It also reminded him that their time together was up. Soon they’d leave for the city too.
Holding Portia’s hand, he guided her away from curious eyes, towards a side entrance.
It was clear now to Lex that a brief, passionate weekend wouldn’t obliterate his need for her.
The feel of her hand against his undid his resolve. Or perhaps it was the proud angle of her chin, making it clear that the details of her past and her future were private. Despite her exuberant, breathless physical hunger for him.
Adrenaline shot through his blood as her hand twitched in his.
He didn’t want her emotionally dependent on him.
An emotionally barren childhood with a distant mother had made him wary of relationships. He hadn’t known love or been close to anyone. Until Portia. Their debacle of a relationship had gutted him, destroying any fragile belief that he was cut out for romantic love.
Business had been his salvation. His thirst to succeed was as strong as ever, fuelled by the need to prove himself, including to his new family. Work and his family were enough for him.
Yet at the same time this, with Portia, wasn’t over.
‘We—’
‘Lex, I—’
‘You first,’ he invited.
They’d reached the side entrance and Portia slipped her hand from his, shoving it deep into her coat pocket.
A moment ago she’d looked almost regal in her determination, as if bestowing a favour in talking about her father. Suddenly she looked less sure of herself. Her glance darted around before settling near his mouth.
Instantly heat coiled in his groin. He wanted to kiss her again until her hair was mussed, her breathing heavy as she clung to him, eager for more. They’d go to their suite and—
‘It’s been a fantastic weekend, Lex.’ Her voice was low and husky. He felt it like suede stroking his skin. Anticipation stirred. ‘I’ve enjoyed every minute of it.’
He hoped his smile wasn’t too smug. ‘So have I.’
‘I’m glad things have worked out for you and I wish you well in the future.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘The sex has been...amazing. But there’s no future in it. It’s better if we don’t meet again.’
Suddenly those dark eyes fixed on his. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He knew she felt the current of attraction as strongly as he did. It was there in her face, in her straining body as she leaned closer then shifted back half a step as if afraid to get too near.
‘We need to go our separate ways from here. I know you have a flight to Athens later and I can get a lift to the railway station to save you coming all the way into London.’
He was still gathering his stunned thoughts when she went on. ‘So thank you, Lex. And goodbye.’