A Husband of Convenience - Page 36

He was right. She had been so tied up in her own worries, she had never given a thought to how he must feel. The doctor had told her he’d haunted the hospital when she was unconscious, driving the staff half crazy with his constant questions.

‘Conan.’ She murmured his name, and reaching out, she clasped his broad shoulders. Stretching up to him, she put her mouth to his. His lips were firm and warm as, gently, she discovered the shape of them with her tongue. She felt them soften beneath her caressing touch and gradually she increased the pressure of her mouth on his and felt his response. It was exciting to be in control, she realised. ‘Conan,’ she repeated, and in that instant any last doubt vanished. He was her husband. Instinctively she knew they loved each other. She would never have dared kiss him so blatantly otherwise.

Her eyes flew open as in one swift movement he lowered her back against the pillows, and followed her down. He gently cradled her head in his hands, his handsome face flushed, his pupils dilated, black with desire, reflecting she knew the longing in her own.

‘My darling, darling Josie. You can’t know how long I’ve waited for this.’ He groaned, his mouth claiming hers in a kiss of tender possession. ‘You’re mine, all mine,’ he declared huskily, his lips hot against the pulse that beat madly in her throat. He went lower, nuzzling at her firm breasts through the fine silk of her nightgown. Somehow he pushed the fabric down, and she felt his breath on her naked breasts.

Her eyes widened in shocked pleasure, her body trembling at his intimate caress. She gasped, and closed her eyes against the powerful surge of emotion that swept through her as he drew the tip of her breast into the burning heat of his mouth.

She didn’t hear the nurse; it was only when Conan suddenly sat up and swiftly tucked the sheet around her shoulders that she was aware of Ann’s presence.

‘Sorry to interrupt, Mr Zarcourt, but I did knock. Dinner is served in five minutes.’ Ann walked out, grinning as she went.

Josie, her body aching with frustration, glanced up at Conan and saw the same frustration mirrored in the depths of his dark eyes.

‘I should have my head examined, never mind yours.’ His lips twisted in a rueful smile. ‘Sorry, Josie, but I couldn’t help myself. I only have to look at you to want you. I know that’s no excuse.’ He ran his fingers through his hair. ‘I should have remembered you’re ill—the accident and all the complications.’

Her overheated body turned quickly cold at the word ‘complications’. ‘What complications?’ she blurted. Was there something the doctor wasn’t telling her? ‘Our baby...?’

‘No, no, nothing like that, Josie. You and the baby are fine; a few more days and you can come home. By complications I meant the nurse walking in when I was trying to make love to my wife.’

‘It was embarrassing,’ Josie admitted, suddenly feeling shy, and she was grateful when the door opened, putting an end to the conversation. It was the auxiliary nurse with the dinner trolley.

Conan stood up, and leant over to kiss her gently on the lips. ‘It won’t happen again until I get you home,’ he murmured. ‘I must leave now but I’ll be back tomorrow—and stop worrying.’ he admonished. ‘A few days ago I thought I’d lost you, but now we have a lifetime ahead of us. What’s a little memory loss against that?’

Today was the day... Conan would be arriving any second to take her home. A home she still could not remember, however hard she tried. She was nervous, afraid of the world outside her hospital room. She was being stupid, she knew; the doctor had reassured her, as had Conan, but she couldn’t help it...

Josie glanced once more in the mirror, and adjusted the collar of her coat. It was a lovely outfit: a jade-green cashmere dress, with a high roll neck and cut to flare gently from her bust, with a matching coat that hung cape-like in deep folds almost to her ankles. She had asked Conan if it was new, and he had laughed and said. ‘Of course; what did you expect when you’re expanding by the week?’

Affronted by his comment, she had not questioned his explanation. One thing Josie had learned over the past four days was that her husband was a master at avoiding a direct question. The house in the country where she had been staying when she had had the accident was a case in point. She had asked him to describe it to her and his answer had been that it was being renovated so there was no point. He had visited her every day, and they’d talked on a variety of subjects. He was a brilliant and amusing conversationalist, yet after he’d left at night and she’d had time to think Josie had realised that he’d carefully evaded any attempt she’d made to discuss the past. She’d told herself he was probably following Dr Ferguson’s orders, but for some reason it made her uneasy.

‘Ready and waiting? Just how I like my women!’ Josie’s heart leapt at the sound of Conan’s voice, and she spun around to face him. He was wearing a camel-coloured overcoat that fitted perfectly across his wide shoulders. He looked wonderful, and all her nagging doubts vanished, to be replaced with a delicious lightness of heart.

‘Women, plural! How many women do you have, husband mine?’ she asked mockingly.

Stepping forward, he put an arm around her shoulder and led her towards the door. ‘Sadly, none,’ he said, but the wickedly sensual gleam in his dark eyes belied his mournful tone. ‘You see, I have this beautiful, pregnant, sexy wife, who unfortunately crashed her car, and I’ve been ill with frustration for ages, but I’m hopeful of a cure very soon. What do you think of my chances?’ he queried, tongue-in-cheek.

Josie burst out laughing. ‘You’re an idiot!’

‘I must be to keep you talking here when I could be halfway home with you by now,’ he said huskily, and, swooping down, he kissed her.

The first thing that hit Josie was the noise.

‘London is a bit of a shock to the nervous system for anyone, Josie, so don’t be afraid,’ Conan commanded softly, and, opening the passenger door of a gleaming black BMW, he saw her safely inside and fastened her seat belt. ‘There now; you’re safe,’

It was uncanny how he could sense her every thought. He was right, she was frightened, she thought as she watched him walk around the front of the car and slip into the driving seat.

‘Am I so obvious?’ she asked, shooting him a sidelong glance.

‘Not to anyone else, no.’ He started the car and guided it out of the car park. ‘You look the picture of cool, calm, beautiful womanhood.’ He smiled briefly at her. ‘But then I know you intimately,’ he concluded huskily.

Josie looked away from the sensual gleam in his eyes, the drawling inflection of his last comment causing a flicker of fear in her mind. Covertly she watched him as he guided the car through the chaotic city traffic. In profile his face looked sterner somehow, almost arrogant. She bit her lower lip nervously. After all, he was still a stranger to her. In the hospital, with other people around, she had tried to ignore the fact she did not remember him. Amnesia must be the loneliest illness in the world. She had been happy just to know she belonged to someone.

As she sat next to him, aware of h

is every movement, of the strength of his large hands manipulating the car through the horrendous traffic, it hit Josie forcibly how dependent she and her unborn child were on Conan—for the past, the present, and the future. It was an unsettling feeling, and one she vaguely resented.

‘We’ve arrived.’

Tags: Jacqueline Baird Billionaire Romance
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