Power and Possession Page 4

  “I could have dealt with it. Silvie likes to fuck me. She would have stayed.”

  Nicole gave him a sharp look. “You really are an arrogant bastard.”

  “But that’s what you like. You don’t want someone too nice, do you?” When she didn’t answer, he said very softly, “I’ll tell you what you want. You want raw, sweaty, rock-your-world sex. You want to be pushed and pushed and pushed some more until you’re dripping wet and desperate, until you’ll do anything to be taken over the fucking orgasmic edge. Because under all that sass and audacity of yours you don’t really want a man who takes orders, do you?” Her heart was pounding, her ears buzzing, her breath caught in her throat, and as if knowing what he’d done to her, he held her heated gaze, gave her a mocking smile and repeated in a whisper, “Do you, Nicole?”

  She didn’t have to answer. The insolent smile on his face said it all. She should tell him to find someone else to fucking push over the edge. But she didn’t because all she felt was an insistent, impossible craving that she was powerless to contain and she wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t going to simply melt in a puddle of lust right before his eyes. So with a noticeable wince because she’d never before said anything so abjectly submissive, she answered, “No.”

  “That’s what I thought,” he said, amused.

  She gave him the finger and he only said, “You’re going to be a great fuck.”

  “Maybe I don’t need you,” she muttered, sullen and testy.

  “Need and want are two different things.” His smile was warm. “I can show you.”

  Annoyed by that lovely smile—a reflex for a man used to getting what he wanted—she held up her hands and wiggled her fingers. “FYI—these work just fine.”

  “I’m going to teach you a whole new meaning of the word penetration,” he said gently, as if she’d not spoken. “Nothing extraordinary or shocking,” he added at her nervous start. “Just a different kind of compliance.” His brows lifted faintly as he watched the color rise in her cheeks. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid. Or does it turn you on—the thought of what I’ll do to you?” Looking at her directly, he lowered his voice to a sultry whisper. “It’s about me setting the rules and you obeying them. Willingly. Totally. Without complaint,” he whispered as she uttered a soft breathy moan. “You’ll be sore in the morning, but you’ll come so many times you’ll be grateful and”—he grinned—“knowing you, probably resentful. But I guarantee you’ll enjoy it.”

  Even as lust in all its torrid, earth-shaking intensity roared through her senses, she bristled at his assurance. “You can’t guarantee that.”

  “Fuck if I can’t. You’re getting wetter just thinking about what I might do to you, aren’t you?” His voice was exaggeratedly soft. “Wondering how it feels to submit for the first time in your spoiled life.” He took an exasperated breath. “Don’t pretend you don’t know you’re beautiful.”

  They looked at each other for a taut, simmering moment, both defensive and defenseless. Both stunned by a rare feeling of freedom lost.

  Then with zero interest in shutting down this freaking flame-hot drama, Rafe reached out and gently slid a damp curl behind her ear. “I’ll make sure you’re happy with the arrangement,” he whispered. “I promise.”

  The door abruptly opened and Fiona and Jack walked in.

  Instantly, Rafe’s face was wiped clean of expression. “So no more arguments?” His voice was bland. “Only sunshine in paradise for us?”

  Less practiced in casual prevarication, it took Nicole a second to regain her composure. And a further second to answer as blandly. “I’ll give it a try.” Her smile was carefully rationed. “That’s all I can promise.”

  “Trying’s good,” he said, smooth as silk, glancing up as Fiona reached them. “You found the phone. Perfect.” He held out his hand, took Nicole’s purse, and set it beside him on the hassock.

  “We should check in every day,” Fiona said. “In case our mothers need some explanation.”

  “Or we do,” Nicole noted, unsure of the length of her stay.

  “Agreed. When?”

  Nicole shrugged. “I don’t care. I talked to my mother earlier, so I’m off the hook today.”

  “One-ish then, tomorrow. Anything else we should agree on?” Fiona’s voice plainly conveyed her reservations.

  Rafe smiled. “You two have your code words in case Jack or I misbehave?” Lifting Nicole’s feet from his lap he lightly kissed her toes. “And just for the record,” Rafe said, glancing up and smiling at her. “I’ve never done that before.”

  “I do so like to be special,” Nicole purred.

  “And you are, pussycat.” He winked. “No doubt in my mind.”

  Conscious of his cousin’s unprecedented show of affection, Jack immediately made their adieus with a promise that he and Fiona would stay in touch.

  With the door closing on their friends, Rafe glanced at the clock, as if fixing this extraordinary event in his memory. He’d always been a practical man, but his feelings for Nicole offered him no reference points in his past. This holiday was about play, but not just play; it was something more. Something honest and joyful, something that made him happy when he’d always been critical of it before.

  And for the first time in his life, he was planning on spending more than a few hours with a woman.

  Weeks in fact.

  Perhaps… the less infatuated portion of his brain reflected, as did the deep-seated pragmatic centers of his subconscious.

  This was, after all, a completely unorthodox situation.

  No sense in jumping to conclusions.

  “Hey.”

  He looked up.

  Nicole gazed at him from under lowered lashes, her smile playful. “What if I said you’re the sunshine of my life, and you’re probably a little bit right about everything you said?”

  He laughed. “I’d say give me whatever you’re smokin’.” Then his voice softened and he said quietly, “You make the sun shine for me as well… the moon and stars too, I’m guessing.” His mouth twitched. “We’ll find out tonight.”

  Chapter 5

  Suddenly wary of having said too much, Rafe quickly sat up, reached out, swept Nicole up in his arms, and swung her onto his lap. Bending his head, he kissed her cheek. “Now, what do you want to do? Or,” he added, amusement in his voice, “more to the point, where do you want to do it?”

  Her smile was teasing. “Maybe, I should… like, head out.”

  He laughed. “You won’t any more than I did.”

  “Hey.” Her mood abruptly altered. “Don’t do me any favors.”

  For the space of a second he hesitated, then a smile slowly formed on his beautiful mouth. “Maybe just a few to begin with. See what you like.”

  “Oh, Jesus,” she said on a soft breath. “I’m sorry. I should say thank you.”

  “You should. You will, we both will. So where do you want these various favors to take place?”

  She hesitated at the broad scope of his query, wondering next how long it took to master such a bland expression when offering carte blanche sex. But she dismissed her quibbles a second later. The idea of carte blanche sex intrigued her more than she was willing to admit. “There’s way too many people here.”

  “Definitely soul mates, babe. I was thinking the same thing. Noisy as hell.” It wasn’t, of course, in the quiet of the insulated suite, but the party wasn’t going to end until morning and he wanted complete privacy. “Here are our choices. My house up in the hills, a small cruiser that’s over in the next marina, or we can fly somewhere else quiet. I have a villa at Split. It wouldn’t take long to get there.”

  “My apartment first so I can pick up a few things, then your house.”

  He was tempted to say “soul mates” and mean it this time; he wouldn’t have to wait and he could fuck her in comfort. “Got it. You have your phone, what about shoes?”

  “My shoes are—shit. I don’t know where I left them.”

  “It do
esn’t matter. Someone can find them later.” Rafe suddenly went quiet, then slowly exhaled. “Christ—I feel like a goddamn adolescent on his first date.”

  “No you don’t.”

  He laughed, quickly stood, and set her on her feet. “Well, like I imagine one would feel.”

  “And I’m feeling like I imagine all your women friends feel. Eager, impatient, horny.” She smiled. “I told you I think it’s the liquor, not the magic.”

  “Spoilsport, when I’m feeling the magic.”

  She snorted. “As if.”

  “Well, you’re freaking rockin’ my world.” He winked. “How about that?”

  The Discovery II was anchored offshore so they made their way to where the custom-built Dariel limo tenders that shuttled guests were moored. As they approached the stairway to the lower deck, a female voice rose above the sound of music drifting down from the main deck. “Rafe darling! Come give me a kiss!”

  “Ignore her.” Gauging the distance to the stairway, Rafe exerted slightly more pressure on Nicole’s arm to speed up their departure. But then a waitperson blocked their way for a moment and a second later, Rafe put the brakes on and softly swore. A tall, dark-haired, minimally dressed woman with her eyes flashing do me, had stepped squarely in his path.

  “Mia caro, don’t run off.” The cover-model smile was sultry, her voice a sex kitten purr. “I haven’t seen you since that night in Rome and you definitely weren’t in a hurry then. In fact—”

  “I’m in a hurry now, Bianca.” Rafe lifted his brows and stared at her. “So if you’d move, I’d appreciate it.”

  Nicole had to tilt her head to look up at the supertall, flawlessly beautiful woman in a string bikini so inconsequential she might as well have been naked, while the words night in Rome pissed her off for no earthly reason with a man like Rafe. If all the stories were true, he was a man without limits, out of reach for women looking for more than just sex. Skilled at evasion. For anyone to expect more was idiotic.

  Bianca didn’t move. “I just wanted to say thank you, darling.” Her voice was soft as silk. “I didn’t have a chance to do that properly in Rome. I fell asleep. You wore me out.” She ran her fingertip down Rafe’s cheek. “You were so wild that night, all brute force and out-of-control—”

  “You weren’t invited to this party,” Rafe said, stepping out of reach. “So why don’t you be a good girl and move. I have things to do.”

  “Anatole was invited.” There was a faint irony to her smile, as if she were helpless against his demands. “And I’m his guest.”

  Rafe sighed. “Then go talk to him, not me. Or have a drink, fuck the DJ—you remember him. Last year, Capri? Just stop breaking my balls. I’m not in the mood.” He was trying to avoid a scene. Bianca loved scenes. But then she was seriously messed up, like so many people he knew. Himself included.

  Understanding what Rafe was in the mood for, Bianca looked at Nicole for the first time, lips pursed, head slightly askew, as if she were unacquainted with what she saw. “You’re not his type.” She looked at Rafe, brows arched in derision. “Since when did you fancy wholesome?”

  “Jesus, Bianca, how would you know what the hell I fancy?”

  “Actually, I’m not sure Rafe has a type,” Nicole interjected, her smile sweet as pie. “I know I don’t. So I was thinking Rafe and I would just use each other for mind-blowing sex. No mercy, no remorse, until we run out of breath or collapse or both.” She glanced up at Rafe. “You’re good with that, right?”

  He smiled down at her. “Sounds lovely.”

  “Apparently hard core runs in the family,” Bianca sneered, her glittering gaze on Nicole. “I saw you with your uncle in Cannes this spring.” Her mouth twitched into a malicious smile. “Dominic prefers subversive kink too. Or maybe your uncle’s already shown you the kind of kink Rafe likes.”

  Waylaid and impatient, Rafe hadn’t been listening. Instead he was scanning the crowd for one of his security men, but at the words subversive kink, his gaze returned to the women and he heard the last sentence. “Jesus, Bianca, shut the fuck up!”

  “Really, Rafe, you of all people, suddenly virtuous. Aren’t you on video in every private sex club in the world?”

  “We’re done here.” Glancing up, Rafe finally caught the eye of one of his security staff. “Apologize to Miss Parrish.” He spoke with such aggression, Bianca started.

  Then her eyes narrowed. “Fuck you, Rafe.” Flipping him off, Bianca turned to Nicole. “I was married to Dominic you know—Oh… you didn’t know? He always did live by his own set of rules, didn’t he?” she added, sly and artful. “We were married in Fiesole. Ask him.”

  Nicole shot a shocked look at Rafe. “Who is this?”

  “Nobody.” Rafe grabbed Bianca’s arms and began dragging her aside.

  Struggling to free herself from Rafe’s grip, Bianca hissed at Nicole, “Ask Dominic about his marriage to Bianca! He can’t deny it! We had a child!”

  Nicole gasped at the word child, cringing at the thought of Dominic married to this woman. Told herself a bitch was a bitch and this bitch was lying.

  A large man who looked as though he could bench press a truck suddenly appeared and Rafe shoved Bianca at him. “Lock her up until we’re gone. Then escort her ashore. And tell Anatole Regnier if he brings her onboard again, I’ll personally beat the shit out of him.”

  “You goddam son of a bitch!” Bianca raged as she was being hauled away. “I’ll make you sorry for this! I swear I will!”

  “Too late,” Rafe muttered, leading Nicole to the stairway. He gently squeezed her hand. “Sorry about that. Bianca’s a total head case.”

  “It sounds as though she really liked you in Rome.”

  “Trust me, she likes any man with a beating heart and money.”

  “What did she mean about my uncle? She’s lying, right?”

  “That’s all she does is fucking lie. Believe me, she was just trying to get a rise out of you.” He’d never heard that Bianca had had a child. He also knew a lot of people named Dominic, although, with Bianca, that was probably another fabrication too.

  “Jeez, I hope so. She’s a major skank.” Nicole angled a pointed look at Rafe. “I could ask why you were with her, but I think I know the answer.”

  “Won’t happen again, believe me. It was a onetime deal, short and sweet. I’m guessing I was drunk. Now watch your step,” he said, handing Nicole into the sleek tender, hoping like hell the conversation about Bianca was over. “Hey, Jules. We’re going to the car.”

  “I’m done with this,” Nicole said, watching Rafe jump down.

  “Good.” He was fucking grateful. “Come stand with me up front.” He held out his hand. “You don’t see much when you’re sitting.”

  Reaching the shore in record time, Rafe helped Nicole onto the dock and nodded at a black sedan idling in the marina parking lot. “There’s our ride.” Sliding his fingers through hers, he drew her along with him. “We’ll pick up your stuff and head up the hill.”

  “Jules is rockin’. I love speed. When I was young, my car had a governor on it.” She grinned. “No more.”

  “We’ll have to go driving. See how good you are behind the wheel.”

  She shook her head. “Later. I have plans.”

  “Good to hear,” he said in an entirely different tone, thoughts of fast cars and driving eclipsed by the velvety resonance in her voice that seemed to reach out and touch him. “That way I won’t inconvenience you.” He beat back the worst of his wildness, took a small breath, and said, in a raspy whisper, “With some of my plans.”

  At the flash of heat in his hooded eyes, the hair on the back of Nicole’s neck stood up, but every sex-deprived nerve in her body was immune to fear. “Lucky me,” she murmured.

  Pulling her to a stop, Rafe spoke with an honesty unheard of for him in situations like this. “Lucky us, you mean,” he said softly, holding her gaze until she stopped breathing. And when she mutely nodded, he experienced a frighteningly wild h
appiness that would have brought a dead man back to life.

  But a second later, his expression mirrored his shock, and understanding that they were both operating in the same clueless haze of mind-altering desire, Nicole suddenly dragged in a breath and grinned. “New territory, right? No maps. No GPS. Nada.”

  “Fucking A.” He frowned, momentarily baffled before he sorted through the crazy mind fuck that had blown in with Nicole Parrish. “Look, if it’s all the same to you,” he said with empty politesse, “I’d prefer to file this us thing under lust.” He smiled. “That way it’s safe, familiar, nothing that’ll wreck the comfortable pattern of my life.”

  “You’re preaching to the choir, dude.”

  He did a double take. The women in his life were notoriously calculating, all after the same thing—marriage to a billionaire. He had no illusions.

  “Don’t look so surprised. I’m on summer break. Lust is the reason I’m here.” Nicole lifted her chin as they reached the black Mercedes sedan and spoke in a deliberately disinterested tone. “Nice car. Armored.” She smiled up at him. “Looks like you bring all kinds of excitement with you.”

  “Just a practicality,” he lied, grateful for her well-mannered change of subject. “I have too many attorneys. They hate problems.” Opening the back door, he waved her in. “Give Simon directions.”

  Since Dominic’s apartment was practically on the water, it was only a few minutes before the car pulled up to the building entrance. Rafe held up his phone. “If you want company, I’ll come up with you. Otherwise I’m going to take care of some business.” He smiled. “Seeing how you and I are going to be busy for the foreseeable future.” His smile widened. “No mercy, no remorse. Should be fun.”

  “Here’s hoping.” Grinning, Nicole held up crossed fingers. “Make your calls. I don’t need company.”

  “Simon could come with you and carry—whatever.”

  “Nah, I’m good. I travel light.”