Claiming His Wedding Night - Page 20

Although, to be fair, she had wanted it too. Her cheeks grew warm. More than wanted it. It had been frantic, unstoppable, an almost primeval surge of need to feel his hands on her body again, his mouth on her mouth...

And he’d been the one to pull away, and it was only later that she’d realised how close she’d come to letting him make love to her in the back of his car.

It had been a shock to discover just how much she still wanted him. But a bigger shock was the realisation that instead of shame or regret she’d felt almost elated by what had happened. Elated and aroused. She bit her lip. Since splitting up with Malachi her job had more or less taken over her life. Sometimes she went to the gym, or met friends after work. But mostly she just ate her dinner on the sofa before falling into bed alone. There certainly hadn’t been any romance.

Only now she was going to spend a month on a private Caribbean island. With Malachi. A man whose touch had tormented and tamed her.

She breathed out slowly.

She was almost certainly going to regret this trip. But those few snatched moments of release in the limousine had at least proved to her what she’d known but denied for so long. That she wasn’t completely over Malachi; that in some intangible, incomprehensible way she still felt married to him.

She winced. Put like that, it sounded mad. But she wasn’t living under any delusions. This ‘honeymoon’ wasn’t some last-ditch attempt to save their relationship. Quite the reverse, in fact. It was a coda: a bittersweet and fitting finale to a marriage that had never been quite what it seemed—to her, at least. At least this time their relationship might actually be more straightforward, more honest, despite, or maybe because it involved a simple trade-off: sex for money.

This time her heart was definitely off limits. This deal would only involve her body—and only for a limited period. And, of course, a large amount of money.

She zipped the bag shut.

Did that make her shallow? Mercenary. Immoral.

No, it did not, she thought defiantly.

She’d never asked him for anything. Not a single cent. And she still hadn’t. This was for her charity. But seeing him again had made her realise that she couldn’t keep avoiding the past. Finally she was ready to bring an end to all the years spent wondering, hoping, aching. And that meant being with her husband one last time. She let out a long, slow breath. So why not make the most of it?

After all, there were a lot worse ways to spend a month than being on a private island with a sexy, handsome billionaire.

At the thought of Malachi’s island she felt a flicker of fear. How was she going to survive the two of them being alone on a deserted island?

By sticking to the rules. Kissing was almost unavoidable and, knowing Malachi, if he thought she was trying to avoid kissing him he’d simply see it as a challenge. But there would be no touchy-feely stuff—the sort of things couple did without thinking—because this was a business arrangement and there was no point in blurring the boundaries.

She also expected to be treated with respect. Okay, he had the money, but this arrangement was only going to work if she made it clear that while her body might have a price she, Addie, was beyond even his wealth. The remnants of her pride required that she demand that at least.

And if it all got too unbearable she could always catch a plane back to Miami. She wasn’t so destitute that she couldn’t afford an airfare home!

Beside her on the bed her phone vibrated and, picking it up, she glanced at the screen and felt her heart jolt. The car would be arriving in twenty minutes. Just enough time to dry her hair and find her passport and double-check that Carmen knew she was in charge of the office for the next four weeks.

Thirty minutes later, wearing a short navy wraparound skirt and an embroidered cream silk blouse, she was sitting in the back of the limousine, trying her hardest to look as though it was something she did every day of her life. Tucking her legs to one side, she glanced down at her high-heeled navy court shoes and frowned. She hardly ever wore heels outside of work, and they were not the most practical footwear for a beach holiday, but she wanted a reminder of why she was there: a private nudge to herself that this was not personal but business. And, anyway, she needed the extra height if she was going to square up to Malachi’s six-foot-two frame.

Feeling the car slow, she glanced out of the window and saw that they’d arrived at a large private airfield. And then her breath seemed to lodge in her throat as she saw the sleek white plane, emblazoned with the King Industries logo, gleaming on the runway. Beside it a line of stewards stood, waiting on the tarmac, all looking as though they’d just stepped out of the pages of Italian Vogue, and suddenly she felt like a rather unprepared understudy about to step on to a West End stage.

Who were they expecting? What had Malachi told them?

She would soon find out.

As the limousine swung smoothly to a stop and the door beside her opened she took a deep breath, swung her legs out of the car and stepped onto the tarmac.

Immediately the nearest steward walked swiftly towards her, smiling. ‘Good mo

rning, Ms Farrell. My name is John. I’m the chief steward on this flight and I will be taking care of you today. Welcome to King Airlines.’

Inside the plane, Addie had to clench her jaw to stop it from falling open. She’d flown before. She’d even been upgraded to business class once. But this—

Trying not to gawp, she gazed slowly around.

It was not like the interior of any plane she’d ever travelled on. Rather than banks of seats with a central aisle, there was a large open-plan lounge area that spanned the width of the plane. Between huge leather sofas, vases filled with freesias stood on top of mirror-topped tables. There was also a bar!

Five minutes later she was sitting at one end of a sofa, sipping a perfect cappuccino from a fine bone china cup, when a door at the end of the cabin opened and Malachi sauntered towards her across the carpet.

‘Sorry, sweetheart. This trip of ours has thrown quite a few balls up into the air. I needed to meet with some people just to make sure somebody catches them while I’m away.’

Tags: Louise Fuller Billionaire Romance
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