CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER SEVEN
Caitlin had the day off after five days of intense meetings, with barely time to pause and think about what had turned out to be a less awkward situation than she had expected.
As arranged, they convened for breakfast first thing every morning, during which they briefed each other on what would be happening during the day, what needed to be done and what issues had to be dealt with before signing off.
On the first morning, after a restless night’s sleep and with butterflies in her tummy, she had emerged from her bedroom to find Javier sitting in front of his laptop on the veranda. He’d barely glanced in her direction as she’d sat alongside him and pulled out her laptop. There’d been coffee, to which she’d helped herself, and ten minutes later various pastries and breads had been trundled in.
But for the magnificent scenery and the warmth of the sun, they could have been in his offices in London. Out of the corner of her eye, she’d glimpsed the elegant pathway below, lush green gardens on either side and the stone steps that led down between swaying palm trees to the beach in the distance. How could she not have noticed before?
Easily, she had discovered, because Javier had moved at breakneck speed through so many files and folders that she’d almost struggled to keep up with him and then, breakfast done, they had headed straight to the conference room to carry on the rest of the business at hand.
She had cleverly brought the sort of work clothes she would have actually thought twice about wearing in London—because she preferred bright, casual stuff—but, predicting an uncomfortable ambience, she had rustled up a couple of drab outfits which made her feel a bit like a fool in the balmy, laid-back surroundings.
The evenings were spent on her own while Javier did his thing with the people who would be working on the completion of the hotel deal. Five times he had issued the invitation to accompany him and five times she had politely declined, telling him she preferred to have a look around a place she’d probably never visit again.
She duly did some light exploring. She was keen but anxious, and always eager to return to the hotel before Javier so that she could avoid any conversations over a nightcap. She didn’t want any more of those heady heart-to-hearts because they were too catastrophic for her nervous system. She wanted to distance herself from temptation so that things could be normal once they returned. She was desperate to bury what had happened between them.
Caitlin knew that all of that was needless worry, because Javier barely paid her a scrap of attention, reverting very easily back to being the boss and away from the guy who had linked his fingers through hers to calm her on that flight. Away from the guy who had looked at her with scorching sexual intent in his eyes.
What had been earth-shattering for her had barely registered with him as anything out of the ordinary. He might briefly have been attracted to her, but the circumstances had dictated that passing reaction more than physical lust. If he’d ever seen her in that light before then, she would have known.
It was just as well that she had pulled back from the brink of doing something both of them would regret. One touch, and he would have known that there was no way she was as casual as he was about physical contact between them.
Today, he had removed himself to have lunch with some old acquaintances who lived in Chateauneuf-du-Pape and were extensively knowledgeable on the wine grown there.
‘I have a small-scale hobby on some land in southern Spain,’ he had drawled, halfway out the door and before the usual breakfast routine. ‘Thinking I might take it further, so a little basic info on wine growing might be in order. Don’t wait up.’
‘I’ll try my best,’ Caitlin had told him drily.
‘Turn of phrase.’
She had reddened as his dark eyes had rested on her, opaque and unreadable.
‘What sort of time…?’ she had prompted, mentally calculating how her day would pan out in his absence.
‘Very late. It’s a long drive, and I intend to spend some time enjoying the company and the town. Weather’s good, and there’s nothing more relaxing than gazing up at a ruined mediaeval castle with a glass of the best red waiting to be drunk. So, in short, I won’t be back before ten tonight.’ He’d spread his arms wide in an expressive gesture and half-smiled. ‘Seize the day, as they say.’
He’d given her a mock-salute and left, and she’d breathed a sigh of heartfelt relief and got on with doing exactly as he’d instructed.
Nice was famous for its museums. She took one in and then strolled in the mild summer warmth, enjoying the sights, smells, chatter in different tongues and the rapid, romantic French accent as people strolled past her. She grabbed lunch but was too eager to carry on sightseeing to sit still for long and, by the time mid-afternoon rolled round, she had managed to explore Old Nice with its narrow cobblestone streets and buildings in pale pastel hues, enjoying all the cheeses and breads spilling from stalls and the huge array of flowers that filled the air with an aroma that was fragrant and seductive.
Never in her wildest dreams, in foster care, had she thought that the experience of being somewhere else could feel so wonderful and so alien at the same time.
Once she became tired of walking, the hotel pool became irresistible, perched up above the ocean with its elegant array of shaded loungers and precision-straight umbrellas. People were lazily sunbathing, but there were many empty loungers, and it was bliss to while away a couple of hours soaking up the sun.
Javier wasn’t going to be back until very late. She’d actually checked how far the place was, and he’d be several hours on the road, never mind sipping red wine and catching up with old friends while gazing at a mediaeval castle. All that stuff took time. He would be very lucky to be home by midnight, she reckoned.
Caitlin had never envied the lifestyle of the rich and famous—the opposite, if anything. She had occasionally seen some of the women Javier dated, and had often wondered—how much time went into the business of being impeccably groomed? How much time was spent hunting down the perfect outfits to grab the attention of a guy who was never going to be in it for the long haul? What effort was involved in trying to impress the world? It must be exhausting.
But, here, she guiltily saw what serious money got a person when it came to sheer luxury: poolside staff jumping to attention; a list of cocktails as long as her arm served with melt-in-the-mouth snacks; loungers she could fall asleep on; and the quiet hush of very expensive people who never did rowdy things such as yell, shout or dive into the pool irrespective of whether they splashed anyone.
It was bliss, quite frankly. She was a couple of mojitos down by the time six o’clock rolled round and she headed back to the suite. Pleasantly relaxed, and relishing the freedom of being able to strip off and walk around in the buff safe in the knowledge that Javier wouldn’t be around for hours, Caitlin reminded herself that she was really going to commit to embracing her singledom just as soon as she returned to London. For the moment, however, as she flung on a thin, sheer sarong—which was just about okay for sitting on the veranda, because there was nothing at all underneath—she had not a thought in her head except for the mindfulness of the moment.
The intensity of the sun was fading. Down below, if she was to look over the railings of the veranda, she would see the very pool she had just left, but from here, half-dozing with a bottle of water in one hand, all she could see from the cushioned chair was the blue sky and ocean and the fine, dark line dividing the two.
She nodded off to the pleasant background sound of the breeze and the distant sea and the even more distant sounds of people below, thinning out at the pool as the light began to fade.
When she started at a sudden noise and looked at her phone it was only just seven—loads of time to take it easy before she catapulted into fifth gear and made sure she was in her bedroom by the time her boss returned.
And tomorrow would be the perfect time to get round to all her good intentions.
* * *
Javier let himself into a silent space. It was a little after seven-fifteen and he still wasn’t entirely convinced as to why he had changed his plans for the day. He’d set off with great intentions to enjoy some downtime whilst also quizzing his grizzled, humorous friend about vineyards and wine production. He would inherit his vineyards by hook or by crook and, once he did, a little useful information would come in handy.
But he’d been filled with a vague restlessness as soon as he’d left the hotel. The past five days had stretched his willpower to breaking point. He was in the unique position of knowing that a woman wanted him, knowing that he wanted her just as much, yet powerless to do anything about the situation because Caitlin was out of bounds.
Much more than that, though—she was complicated. He thought of her having been in foster care…all the sadness that would have gone with that…the faith in love and romance that it had engendered against all odds, the desire for security.
The last guy she needed was someone like him, whether he was her boss or not. He was not going to go there, whatever erotic fantasies he had going on in his head…was he?
With all sorts of problems looming on the horizon—from marriage plans going down the plug hole, to an expiry date on his freedom if he was to get control of the vineyards he was so desperate to have—there was more than enough to worry about. Instead, the only thing he was able to think of was whatever was going on between Caitlin and himself.
He hated to think that he was the sort of guy who could crave what he couldn’t have but, ever since that almost crazy moment, he had watched her out of the corner of his eye, watched her every movement, and had gritted his teeth against a libido that threatened to rocket into the stratosphere.
When he lay in bed at night, he practically groaned aloud at the thought of her lying in a bed within touching distance of him. How was he supposed to have talked wine, drunk wine and whiled away several hours in the sun without itching to get back to the hotel? Which was why he had met Jean-Paul halfway, enjoyed a light lunch with him, caught up on news, while only glancing at his watch four times, and then made his way back to the hotel earlier than intended.
Last day in Nice… He’d planned to avoid all temptation, but something had got the better of his usual impeccable judgement, and now here he was, in the suite…
Javier drew in a sharp breath as he moved towards the veranda just as she lazily stood up with her back to him.
What was she wearing? What was she not wearing? Where was the attraction-killing work garb she had been keen to wear for the past few days? The thin wisp of fabric swathed around her showed everything he’d fantasised about for the past five days: round backside, shapely legs, narrow waist…
She was moving back inside, staring at her phone, and smiling as the sarong blew open. Javier went rock-hard in seconds. He felt his urgent erection pushing against his linen trousers. He couldn’t have peeled his eyes away from the luscious sight in front of him if he’d tried. Her breasts hung like ripe fruit waiting to be tasted, her nipples large orbs, pink and perfectly defined, begging to be sampled.
Dios mío!
* * *
Caitlin was moving forward towards a sound that had barely registered, smiling at the picture Angie had sent her of Benji, until she glanced up, and for a few seconds her mind went blank.
She had a sluggish déjà vu, a flashback to standing on that chair with a wedding dress on, but this time, as reality returned in a rush, she knew that it was much, much worse.
She stared down and saw the nakedness of her breasts and the panties that barely covered anything. She felt every inch of her body; felt the rush of blood through her veins, the tickle of wetness spreading between her thighs and the sensitive tightening of her nipples as they scraped against the thin sarong.
‘What are you doing here? What the heck are you doing here?’ She scrambled to get herself presentable.
‘I…’ Javier raked his fingers through his hair and glanced away, but not for long.
‘You shouldn’t be here!’ Caitlin screeched. ‘And… don’t . Just… don’t !’
‘Don’t what?’
‘Don’t you dare look at me like that!’
‘Like what, Caitlin? Tell me! No, you don’t have to tell me. You don’t want me to look at you as if you’re the only woman on earth; as if I want to do nothing more than rip that flimsy bit of cloth off so that I can do what I’ve been wanting to do for too long now.’
‘You don’t mean that!’
‘Damn right I mean it—every word. Wanting to touch you has been driving me crazy.’
‘You’re my boss! I’m not your type. You’re not my type… We’ve all but agreed that!’
Silence fell, an electric silence thrumming with everything that was unspoken, charged with want .
‘In that case…’
Javier began turning away and, in that split-second, Caitlin had a soaring insight into her life, her choices, her past, her present and her future. She saw all the dreams she’d had in her foster home: romantic dreams of frothy weddings, babies and happy-ever-afters. She’d lost herself in those dreams. They had been her escape and, for a while with Andy, she’d projected those dreams onto him and pretended that he could be ‘the one’ for her. Her disillusionment had pulled her into a place of safety. She’d looked at her boss and taken refuge in a crush that had never been able to come to anything but, in doing so, she had removed herself from real life with all its complications, dangers and chances that she could have taken.
Somewhere in her head, she had decided that chances weren’t for her. But here she was, and she was suddenly driven to take the biggest chance of all.
What would it feel like just to give in to temptation? Could she live in the moment without looking ahead to regret? With Javier, she knew what she would be getting into, and that would be nothing—nothing at all. Wasn’t that safer, in a way—taking the plunge without spinning castles in the sky about a future that was never going to happen?
‘Wait…’ Heart in her mouth, she reached out and circled his wrist with her hand, while she clutched the sarong tightly together with the other.
* * *
Javier stilled.
Every muscle in his body froze at the branding touch of her fingers on his skin and the hesitant tone in her voice. He looked at her with hunger. If he’d ever thought for a single moment that he’d known what it felt like to play with fire, then he’d been wrong. This was playing with fire.
‘What am I waiting for? Tell me!’
‘I’m not sure! I’m confused! I don’t understand. I’m so attracted to you but I know that it would be stupid to do anything about it. Dumb! ’
‘You think I don’t know that?’
‘I don’t know what to do! This is all your fault!’
‘You think I’m not confused?’ He raked restless fingers through his hair.
‘We should walk away from this. It doesn’t make sense.’
‘If we do, will what we feel, this charge between us that’s come from nowhere, conveniently leave us alone? Or will curiosity never let either of us go? And, if that’s the case, how will it impact our working relationship down the road? Think about it.’
Javier half-turned away, because if he carried on looking he knew that he would find it impossible not to reach out…smooth those strands of hair from her cheeks…trace the delectable hollow of her cleavage…reach down and kiss her full mouth…
‘I’m trying to think, Javier, but you make it pretty hard to keep a clear head.’
‘Okay, so how about this?’ he said shakily. ‘Whatever happens tonight happens or doesn’t happen. That’s your call. Either way, we leave tomorrow and, once we’re back in London, whether this thing is still there between us or not, we will never talk about it again—ever.’
‘Okay.’
Okay? Okay? Frustration tore through him, but there was no way he would do anything to make her feel uncomfortable or to jeopardise the terrific relationship they had fostered over the years. He respected her too much for that, even though he’d never felt so turned on in his life before.
When he harnessed his wayward thoughts, it was to find that she had turned away and was heading towards her bedroom, closing the door on him.
* * *
He wanted her!
Caitlin lay in bed with her eyes wide open, staring up at the ceiling as the minutes and hours ticked by. She played and replayed every word of what he had said and analysed every expression on his face she remembered until her head was spinning. Her whole body ached from the desire she was desperate to subdue, because of course they were both right in acknowledging that this… thing …between them had to be ignored. So what if curiosity ate away at them? If they mutually agreed never to mention it again, then curiosity would surely fade over time.
Except, what would happen to all these feelings that had been unleashed inside her? It would be easy for Javier to move past a brief attraction generated by the unusual physical circumstances in which they found themselves, with her a heartbeat away in a honeymoon suite. But would it be equally easy for her?
He had no idea of the fantasies trapped in her head about him, fantasies woven over time, carefully nurtured while she’d foolishly avoided the singles scene. Would those fantasies become more strident when they returned to London, when her eyes followed him as he moved in the office? Would her body yearn to take what was on offer here, an offer which would no longer be on the table the minute they returned to the reality of the outside world? Would sleeping with him finally kill off an inconvenient desire?
She had hours to decide—less. She knew that he would respect whatever she chose to do because that was the kind of guy he was.
As the thoughts buzzed in her head like angry insects, she wished that she could be better prepared to handle a situation like this but, whilst making her resilient in many ways, the strange world of foster care had left her curiously vulnerable in others.
It was a little after ten when she decided that checking the fridge for something to eat might be a good idea. She couldn’t stay lying on the bed a minute longer. She was overthinking and needed to move. She knew that the fridge was ridiculously well-stocked with chocolates, biscuits, bottles of water and interesting packets of various French cheeses.
But how did her feet manage to pause outside Javier’s bedroom door en route to getting something from that fridge? How did her hand end up pushing open his door—a door that had been left invitingly ajar? And how did her feet softly pad to where he was turning in the bed?
Her heart was thudding and the feverish thoughts had coalesced into one, overpowering realisation: she was going to do this. She had to do this.
The life in her imagination had always been colourful, but that had never mirrored reality, and the reality was that she had always been risk-averse. She had always thought that daring adventures of the heart were meant for other people, but not for her.
She’d always assumed that her need for safety was too ingrained for her to jeopardise it by taking chances—especially after Andy, who had been a terrible error of judgement.
But with Javier… The error of judgement would be to deny what her body wanted and shy away from this driving need greedily to take what he offered.
‘You came.’
Caitlin hovered. She was a lot more covered than she had been when she’d worn her sarong—she was modestly attired in a baggy tee-shirt and long pyjama bottoms—yet she felt more exposed now than she had with less on. She felt stripped bare under the hooded gaze of those dark eyes—stripped bare and unspeakably excited.
‘I came.’
‘I’m glad you did.’
‘Were you expecting me?’ Her voice was shaky and barely a whisper.
‘Come a little closer and I’ll tell you.’
Should she confess to him just how innocent she was when it came to sex? That was a thorny conversation she had never rehearsed in any of her make-believe scenarios.
He was now sitting up, watching her with lazy interest as she came closer, and he patted the space next to him.
‘I wasn’t expecting anything, I was hoping—hence I left the door ajar.’
‘To tempt me in?’
‘Should you be passing,’ he murmured with a crooked smile. ‘To give you something to think about. Come, climb in. It’s a lot warmer under the covers with me than it is standing there.’
Her inexperience roared through her like a gale-force wind, filling her with a tremor of apprehension, but she shuffled towards the bed, took a deep breath, half-closed her eyes and did as he’d asked. She slipped under the soft duvet which he had raised obligingly for her.
Oh, good heavens…
The feel of his nakedness sent her blood pressure soaring and she gasped and closed her eyes. He slowly ran his hand over the tee-shirt, then under it, and she trembled when his fingers found the stiffened bud of her nipple and began to stroke. She was in the moment and yet outside it, looking down at herself in wonderment at what was happening.
It was surreal. The wetness between her thighs was shocking, as was the raw need for him to put his hand there and soothe the restless, demanding tingle that was driving her crazy.
He pushed up the tee-shirt and she opened her eyes a crack to watch as he straddled her with his big, muscular body, absently touching himself before easing down to suckle on a tender nipple.
Caitlin groaned. Pleasure exploded inside her. She could barely breathe as a new world was unleashed, a world of dizzying sensation and mind-blowing excitement.
The adventures in her head were tame compared to the tumult of sensation racing through her, igniting every corner of her responsive body. She arched up, wanting more of his mouth on her. She didn’t want him to take his time. She wanted him to be in a hurry so that this weird, wonderful, crazy craving was satisfied immediately! Instinct made her reach down to touch herself but he didn’t even lift his mouth from her nipple as he stayed her hand.
She felt him murmur something against her breast and groaned. By the time he rose from his thorough exploration of her breasts, she could barely contain her escalating pleasure, and it took just one touch from him, just the slide of his fingers over her clitoris, for her whole body to burst into orgasm.
She cried out and spasmed, not caring a jot that his eyes were on her, watching her come.
‘Oh, Javier!’ She gave a long, shuddering moan.
‘Good God, you’re so damned beautiful.’
Caitlin reached to squeeze him tightly as he subsided next to her on the mattress. ‘So are you. God, so was that . I’ve never… Oh, Javier… I’m sorry.’
‘For what?’
‘For…not lasting a little longer but…but…’
‘But what, querida ?’
Caitlin squirmed from where she had burrowed against his neck and looked at him anxiously. Her body was calmer but she could still feel the heat inside her, ripples of sexual awareness making her warm and tender.
‘Javier, I don’t want you to freak out.’
‘Just saying that is making me freak out. What is it?’
‘I… I’ve never done this before.’
‘Never done… what ?’
Caitlin looked at him defensively. ‘I knew you’d freak out. I knew you wouldn’t want this!’
She began turning away, humiliated in advance at the prospect of doing the walk of shame to the bedroom door, dishevelled and semi-undressed. Why had she said anything? She could have faked it and he would have been none the wiser but, as it stood, why on earth would he want to make love to someone with zero experience? How would that be a good time for him?
‘Caitlin…’
‘Don’t say anything,’ she ordered shakily. ‘I know it’s not what you expected…’
‘You’re a virgin.’
‘It’s not a crime.’
‘Look at me.’
Caitlin raised cautious, challenging eyes to his. In the semi-darkness, there was amused tenderness in his gaze and something soft fluttered inside her.
‘You’re not…disappointed?’
* * *
Staring deep into her eyes, Javier realised that he couldn’t think of a single word further removed from ‘disappointed’ to describe how he felt right now.
A virgin. He had never sought one out and, if asked, would have said that the prospect of sleeping with a virgin would have him running for the hills, because it smacked of the sort of complications he would never touch with a bargepole. Now, though, as he looked into her hesitant, defiant, hopeful gaze, he wanted her with a ferocity that shocked him.
‘Far from it,’ he murmured huskily, an understatement to beat all understatements. ‘It makes me want to show you everything, querida . It makes me want your sweet, responsive body in ways I can’t even begin to describe—and, trust me, I’ll be gentle with you. When I enter you, you’ll open up to me like a flower, and I promise to take you to heights you can’t begin to imagine.’
‘That’s a lot of big promises.’ There was a shaky smile in her voice.
‘And I intend to keep every one of them…’
True to his word, Javier took it slow. He stripped her with the delicacy of someone handling priceless porcelain and, when she was stretched out in front of his devouring gaze, naked and breathtakingly beautiful, he forgot his own needs and devoted every ounce of attention to making this the best experience of her life.
He linked his fingers through hers, held her hands above her head and explored her breasts, revelling in their lush abundance, lathing the orbs of her nipples with his tongue until she was wriggling and moaning.
He delighted in the little mewling noises she made as he traced a sensuous contour along her ribcage with his tongue, moving lower to circle her belly-button. He took his time, even though it was agonising, because his body was on fire.
He reared up as his wandering mouth, tongue and fingers reached the sexy crease of her womanhood. She was flushed, eyelids trembling, her mouth softly parted on an expectant sigh.
For a few seconds, Javier was overwhelmed. His life had been prescribed for so long that this felt like an adventure—a thrilling, dangerous adventure with no signposts to follow.
She made a tiny urging sound, and he smiled then levered himself in just the right position to swing her legs over his shoulders. He breathed her in, nostrils flaring at the musky feminine scent. Delicately he slid his tongue between that damp crease and found the throbbing bud of her clitoris with no trouble. He was determined that the next time she orgasmed it would be with him inside her, deep, hard and moving at just the right pace to take her over the edge.
He did things slowly, teasing her with his tongue, getting her high on want , and then, when he knew that he would come himself if he didn’t do what his body clamoured for him to do, he reached for protection, sheathed himself and took her.