Seduction Assignment. Helen Bianchin
Men had kissed her before, in friendship, affection, and with a lover’s passion.
She lifted her hands and linked them together at his nape, then leant in against him to enjoy the sensation of closeness. And came seriously unstuck when his mouth firmed on her own.
He’d kissed her before, as a questing, seeking experiment, and as a form of angry punishment.
This, this was different. Very different. It was both possession and promise. And it made her feel terribly afraid.
He had the touch, the instinctive skill of a man well versed in a woman’s needs. His hands, his fingers, knew when to glide, where to caress, to drive her wild.
It was as if every sensitive nerve-end quivered in anticipation, then shrieked at each teasing stroke, every light pinch.
Dear God, she was silk, her skin satin-smooth, and each erogenous zone reacted like fire to his touch. He wanted to free her beautiful body of the restriction of clothes, to explore each indentation, each curve, until she moaned with delight, then begged for release.
That it would be him, only him she saw when he drove himself into her and made her his own. And him, only him, who had the power to take her to the brink, then tip her over the edge. He who held her tight and caught her when she fell.
His fingers sought the clip fastening of her bra and deftly released it, then he slid his hand to cup the fullness of her breast, teased its hardened peak, then trailed his mouth down her throat to the creamy crest. And felt her resistance.
What was she doing? This had gone way beyond mutual exploration, or mutual gratitude.
Anneke could feel the evidence of his arousal, the hard potent shaft beneath the zip of his jeans as it pressed high against his belt. Sensual heat emanated from his skin, and the beat of his heart was hard and deep.
His mouth settled on hers, persuasive, evocative and devastatingly sensual.
It would be easy, so very easy to let him take her wherever he wanted to go. To give in to the magic he promised and just enjoy whatever the night might hold.
Yet, no matter what the enticement, casual sex wasn’t her style.
It took considerable effort to retreat, to drag her mouth from his and push herself to arm’s length. More to quieten her fast-beating heart and attempt to regain her breath.
‘I think,’ Anneke enunciated unevenly, ‘it would be best if I left. Now,’ she added, dropping her hands from his arms.
‘Best for whom?’
‘Me. You. Us,’ she added for good measure. ‘I mean, there is no us.’ This was getting worse with every passing second. ‘It’s just—’
‘Quit while you’re ahead,’ Sebastian advised gently, watching the fleeting change of expression chase across her features as she struggled for control.
He could pull her close, wreak havoc with that beautiful mouth, and take her here. On the desk, the floor. It didn’t matter.
And that was the part that bothered him. He’d always displayed finesse with a woman. Wining, dining, flowers, pretty compliments. Sex by mutual consent, albeit that it might be wild or restrained. Rarely had he felt the urge to tear clothes from a female body, abrade her skin with his mouth, his hands, and join himself with her like a plundering conqueror.
He admired women…their strengths, their weaknesses, their passion. He respected their innate femininity. And he had enjoyed them. No serious commitment, no strings attached.
Until now.
Now he was captivated as never before by a smile, the way her mouth curved to tilt at the edges. The sweep of long lashes and the lure of a pair of green eyes which lightened or deepened according to mood.
She was fire and ice, passion and fury. And he wanted her in a way that he’d never wanted a woman before.
‘Thanks for—’ Her voice wasn’t quite steady. ‘Being there for me.’
He leaned forward and brushed a finger down the slope of her nose. ‘My pleasure.’
‘Really?’ A faint smile teased the edges of her mouth as she moved back a pace. ‘We’ve been at daggers drawn most of the time.’
It was his turn to smile. There was a dangerous quality evident in the darkness of his eyes, a latent passion which, unleashed, would sweep her way out of her depth. It was there in his expression, the forceful set of his features, the stance that was studiously relaxed. Like the watching eye of a tiger, just waiting to pounce.
Go, a tiny voice taunted. Don’t linger.
Without a further word she turned and walked from the room, traversed the hall and let herself out of the back door.
Shaef shadowed her steps as she crossed the path connecting the two properties, and she leant forward to fondle his ears as she unlocked the cottage, then sent him on his way before she stepped inside.
The house was quiet, and she took a long, cool shower, slipped on a robe, then she delved into the refrigerator for a light snack.
Television provided instant visual entertainment, but there was little that captured her attention, even less that held her interest.
It had been a long day, and she took time to examine each and every incident in the hope that reflection would bring peace of mind.
Fat chance. All it did was prove she was too wired to simply fall into bed and covet sleep.
In desperation she selected a book, settled into an armchair, and tried to lose herself in the characters and plot of a favourite author.
Five minutes later she thrust it down. On impulse she went into the bedroom, discarded the robe and slipped into shorts and top.
Within seconds she left the cottage and made her way down onto the beach.
The moon was high in the sky, bathing everything with a pale opalescent glow. Shadows from a clump of palm trees cast long fingers over the sand, and the sea was a mass of silver and dappled pewter that stretched right out to the horizon.
Anneke walked along the damp sand left by an outgoing tide, and breathed in deeply of the clean night air.
There was a whimper, a short bark, then Shaef fell in step at her side.
‘Unable to sleep?’
She should have known Sebastian would investigate Shaef’s departure. Yesterday, even this morning, she would have resented his presence.
‘I figured a walk might help.’ It was impossible to detect his expression in the moonlight.
They walked in silence for a few minutes, and she was aware of him in a way she found vaguely frightening.
Somehow she’d known he was trouble from the moment she first caught sight of him.
At first she’d thought it was just chemistry. Sensual sexual magnetism at its most potent. An electric awareness that was both foolish and capricious.
‘Want to talk about it?’
Anneke heard Sebastian’s words, examined them, and took solace from the shadow of semi-darkness. How could she say that it was he who was on her mind, him disturbing her thoughts?
‘Adam rang me this afternoon.’
Sebastian’s voice became a silky drawl. ‘Foolish of him.’
‘Very,’ she replied in succinct agreement.
‘I imagine the conversation went from bad to worse?’
‘You could say that.’ She turned her head and looked out over the silver sea. There didn’t seem to be any need to fill the gaps in between, or repeat the vicious personal attack. It was over. That was all that mattered.
By tacit consent they