Australian Affairs: Taken. Miranda Lee
lovers have you had, Jess?’
‘Not as many as you’ve had, I’ll bet,’ she countered, thinking he had a hide to ask her that. ‘Now, could we stop talking about sex?’ She reefed the car to a ragged halt. ‘You sit here whilst I go get Andy, and I’ll explain things, then find out where this guest cottage is. And, before you object, you’re not fooling me by pretending you can get in and out of your seat without some pain in your shoulder because I know differently. So just be a good boy and sit still for a while.’
She didn’t give him a chance to come back with some witty riposte because she was off in a flash, running up the side steps of the house, leaving Ben to ponder just how good a boy he was going to be tonight. And he wasn’t talking about at the stag party.
The temptation to come home early was acute. He could easily make some excuse pertaining to his car accident—claim a crippling headache from the concussion, or an appallingly painful shoulder. It was sore, but nothing to write home about.
No, he decided in the end. He would wait. Waiting often made the sex better. And Jess would be even more inclined to be thoroughly seduced.
Tomorrow night would be a first for him in more ways than one. His first wedding. His first brunette. The first girl in a decade who didn’t seem overly impressed with his being Morgan De Silva’s son and heir.
Now, that really would be a first!
THE GUEST COTTAGE was cute and quite a long way from the main house, set on a smaller hill and surrounded by trees. Made of weatherboard, it had a pitched iron roof, covered porches front and back and a hallway which cut the cottage in two. On the left on entering was a lounge followed by a dining room and then the kitchen. On the right were two bedrooms separated by a bathroom, followed by a utility room and walk-in pantry. All the rooms were delightfully furnished in comfy, country-style furniture which was probably newer than it looked. Apparently, it had once been a miner’s cottage, and had been on the property when Andy’s parents had bought the place.
Andy had shown them the way to the cottage personally, which was a relief to Jess. Nothing like a third person being present to prevent Ben doing something which she didn’t want him to do. Not yet, anyway. If truth be told, she was terrified of that moment when he would stop the talk and walk the walk, so to speak. She’d always thought herself quite good at sex but, on a scale of one to ten, she doubted she came much above a five. She would hate it if he found her a disappointment.
She quickly put her overnight bag in the smaller of the two bedrooms, insisting that Ben have the front room with the queen-sized bed, since he was too big for a single bed. He didn’t argue, just sat down on the side of the bed and bounced up and down, as though testing it for comfort. Andy carried Ben’s things into the room whilst Jess hovered in the doorway.
‘I’ll come back with some more provisions shortly,’ Andy told them. ‘Some stuff for breakfast. There’s already white wine in the fridge, and red wine in the cupboards, along with coffee, tea and biscuits, etc. But I’ll bring down some fresh bread, eggs and bacon.’
‘Well, I won’t be here,’ Jess returned before he could escape. ‘I have to get back to Catherine’s. I won’t be back till late tonight.’
‘Oh, right. I forgot. I also forgot to thank you for what you’re doing, Jess. Catherine rang me and told me about the dress. You are one clever girl, isn’t she, Ben? Fancy being able to sew like that.’
‘She’s amazing,’ Ben said.
Jess just smiled, awake to his many compliments.
The moment they were alone Ben gave her a narrow-eyed look. ‘You won’t be staying in that bedroom tomorrow night.’
She glowered at him, never being at her best when men started ordering her around. ‘Maybe I will,’ she bit out. ‘If you start acting like some jerk.’
That sent him back in his heels. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I run my own race, Ben. I don’t like men telling me what to do and when to do it.’
‘Is that so?’
Ben stood up and strode over to her, taking her firmly by the shoulders and pulling her hard against him. She didn’t struggle, or protest. Just stared up at him with wide, dilated eyes. Ben could actually feel her galloping heartbeat. She thought she didn’t like to be ordered around, but he knew that a lot of strong-minded women liked their lovers to take charge.
It came to him that she’d probably never had a dominant lover before. What an exciting thought!
He could hardly wait for tomorrow night to come.
‘When the time is right, Jess,’ he said quietly, his eyes intense on hers, ‘you will like me telling you what to do. Trust me on this. But, for now, perhaps you should get going. Because if you stay I won’t be responsible for what might happen.’
Jess left the cottage in a fluster, her body cruelly turned on and her thoughts totally scattered.
Trust him, he’d said. To do what? Turn her into some kind of mindless sex slave?
At this moment she didn’t doubt he could do it. If she let him.
Did she want that to happen?
The answer to that question lay in her thudding heart and rock-hard nipples.
Suddenly, Jess was overwhelmed by a wave of desire so strong that she almost ran off the road. Giving herself a savage mental shake, she slowed down to a crawl, then turned shakily into Catherine’s driveway, proceeding very carefully up the cement road, grateful now that she had a job to do which would take her most of the evening; very grateful that she had no reason to go back to that seductive cottage till well after Ben had left with Andy for their night on the town. Thank heavens he wouldn’t get home till the small hours of the morning. By which time she would be sound asleep.
Jess had to laugh over that one. There would be no sleeping for her tonight.
But at least she could pretend she was asleep.
* * *
Things didn’t turn out quite like that, however. Jess finished the dress around nine-thirty, after which she refused all offers of wine, saying she was tired, then drove back to the cottage. In actual fact she’d only just remembered that she’d promised to give her mother a ring. This she did whilst she opened a bottle of the white wine resting in the door of the fridge. She poured herself a large glass, sipping it as she sat at the kitchen table, and gave her mother an edited version of what had happened, telling her the truth about the dramas over the wedding and how she’d fixed the dress tonight, plus the plan for her to be a substitute matron of honour the next day. Naturally, she didn’t mention anything about her being thought of as Ben’s girlfriend or that she was staying with him, alone, in this cottage. She admitted staying as a guest at the winery but that was all.
‘It sounds like it’s been a rather surprising trip so far,’ her mother said.
‘It certainly has,’ Jess agreed with considerable irony as she poured herself a second glass of wine.
‘You’ll have to ring me tomorrow night and tell me all about the wedding.’
Jess winced. She could hardly tell her mother why that wasn’t going to happen.
‘Mum, the wedding’s not till late in the afternoon. By the time the reception is over and I get to bed, it’s going to be very late and I’m going to be exhausted. I’ll call you on Sunday morning. But not too early, mind. I might sleep in.’ Jess was grateful that her mother couldn’t see inside her head at this moment, as the images in there were not fit for a caring mother’s consumption.
‘Oh, all right,’ her mother said. ‘But don’t forget to take some photos. I’d love to see what you looked