Hotbed of Scandal

Backing up, he eased the tension in his fingers so he could let go of hers and cruise his hands up the slender columns of her arms.

‘Dane…’ She looked up at him. Desire still darkened her eyes, but the humour faded. ‘Can we keep things light today? It’s really important to me to get the business part of this right.’

‘Sure.’ He shook off conflicting emotions. ‘Let’s get this photo shoot out of the way so I can divest myself of this instrument of torture.’

Half an hour later, in his own jeans and T-shirt, Dane headed south along the coast with Mariel. They passed low rolling hills the colour of dried toast and a blue summer sea. The road, busy with tourists eager to reach the resort town, stretched out before them.

‘Have you read the article in this morning’s paper?’

‘No time.’ She reached for the paper at her feet, flicked through it until she came to the society pages and the photo of the two of them descending the staircase that led to the ballroom.

‘Well?’ he said into the ensuing silence.

‘“New Year’s latest celebrity couple,”’ she read aloud. ‘“How long will it be before our popular Bachelor of the Year steps down?”’ He heard the slide of denim as she rubbed her knuckles over her thighs. ‘It gives the impression we wanted.’

She read on in silence for a moment. ‘Plenty of publicity for OzRemote. It says you’re heading north in just over a week.’ She folded the paper, set it at her feet.

‘I arranged it around my work schedule. Justin’s going to hold the fort. Come with me.’ He didn’t realise he had voiced the thought until he felt her gaze on him.

She paused, then said, ‘No.’ Another pause. ‘This is your big moment. Our relationship shouldn’t overshadow the great work you’re doing. Besides,’ she went on in a brighter tone, ‘I’ll be flat out with my own schedule.’

He reached out, touched her hand. ‘Last night worked in your favour, too. You’ll be a runaway success.’

‘Speaking of last night…tell me about Barbara.’

‘Barbara?’ He shook his head. ‘She’s poison.’

‘You two seemed to be having a heavy-duty conversation on the dance floor.’

‘I said what I should have said years ago. She didn’t take it well.’

‘And that was…?’

‘That she’s a manipulative, deceitful bitch.’

‘Strong words. How so?’

‘I saw Barbara outside a restaurant several years back in a clinch with some other young guy, even though she’s supposed to be devoted to my father.’

‘Why didn’t you warn him?’

‘I tried. He accused me of interfering in his life and told me to stay the hell away.’ His body tensed and his fingers tightened on the steering wheel. ‘Haven’t set foot on the property since.’

‘He was talking about you while you were dancing. And I saw the two of you outside the ballroom later. There’s regret there, Dane. And more.’

A tight ball of emotion rolled up from his chest and lodged in his throat. ‘He made overtures about putting the past behind us.’

She touched his shoulder. ‘Family, Dane. Forgiveness. Do you think you might be able to mend some bridges?’

He swallowed, forced the ache down and kept his eyes on the road. ‘Do you think Adelaide’s going to be rocked by an earthquake this afternoon?’

That evening Mariel sat cross-legged in one of Dane’s big T-shirts in front of his main computer, uploading the day’s pictures. As she scrolled through the images she couldn’t stop anticipation trickling through her at the thought of what tonight might bring.

As long as she kept this arrangement strictly casual. Focused on the present. Took it a day at a time. They’d done okay today, she thought. He’d been attentive and considerate. Sweet, really. On the occasions he’d hugged her there’d been warmth and affection. Their interaction had been open and uncomplicated. Just as she’d asked him.

But the sensual promise in his eyes had been enough to keep her blood on a low simmer all day.

She glanced up, that simmer upping a few degrees as Dane sauntered into the room with a bowl in his hand. She snapped her eyes back to the computer screen and the task at hand. Ordered herself to focus. Plenty of good-quality shots to choose from. She was surprised at how well they’d turned out. Luc’s photography skills had taught her something useful after all.

‘Can I tempt you with ice-cream?’

‘In a minute.’ Her eyes didn’t leave the screen, but her other senses instantly focused on the man behind her—she could multi-task, couldn’t she? The velvet timbre of his voice caressing the nape of her neck. The heat of his body. His tangy soap smell.

The simmer heated to a rolling boil, and without thought she leaned back so she could rub her head against his abdomen. Absently, she tried to remember a time when she’d craved physical touch quite so intensely. ‘This one.’ She clicked the mouse for a closer look.

It was a shot of Dane in a dove-grey polo neck jumper with one foot braced on a rock, the turquoise ocean and white sea spray a magnificent backdrop. She’d taken the photo on a forty-five degree angle.

‘Not bad.’

‘Not bad? It’s bloody brilliant. Okay…’ She saved it to a folder she’d created, then clicked to the next shot. ‘What were you saying about temptation? Wait…’ She leaned forward, mesmerised at her own talent. Uncurled her feet and planted them on the floor. ‘This one. Oh…yeah…’

In the picture Dane’s arms were crossed and he was leaning against grey-brown weather-smoothed rocks on the seaward side of Granite Island. He was wearing a dark V-neck sweater over jeans and looking out to Antarctica. ‘You do that brooding look like a professional model. Look out website, here he comes.’ Even his long hair blowing in the constant wind that battered the island suited the image. ‘You’re okay with that? Being on my website? When I get one, that is.’

‘We’ll talk about it. Later.’

‘Whatever, that one’s a definite.’ She saved it to her folder. Then squealed as a cold sticky tongue laved the side of her neck.

‘Ice-cream.’ He held a mouthful on a spoon in front of her lips.

‘Is it honeycomb?’ She darted her tongue out to taste.

‘Is there any other kind?’

She closed her mouth over the spoon and let the cold creamy taste roll around on her tongue. When she’d savoured every last drop and licked her lips she said, ‘I thought temptation was mentioned.’

‘Ice-cream was mentioned.’ His tongue laved her neck again, then his lips and teeth joined in, nipping and sucking her flesh. ‘Is that not temptation enough?’

She closed her eyes and arched her neck for more, then moaned when a cold, moist tongue slid along her collarbone. ‘It might be. It really depends on who’s offering the ice-cream.’ She could almost feel herself melting, sliding off the big leather chair and onto the floor. She gripped the edge of the desk. ‘And what else they might be offering…’

She heard the clunk as he set the bowl beside the computer, and her body shivered in the delight of anticipation. His hands glided over her shoulders and then down. Inside the loose neck of the supersized T-shirt and over her breasts. Around her nipples in everdecreasing circles until she was practically begging. Her head lolled back on the chair.

She heard the sound of tearing seams and the T-shirt’s neckline disintegrated. In one quick movement he ripped the whole thing apart down the middle, leaving her naked but for her panties. Hot palms massaged her belly. Her head lolled forward and she saw her own body. The contrast of his hard, dark hands on her pale and practically quivering flesh.

Then she watched, breathless, as both his hands slipped beneath the flat band of purple lace over her hips. The erotic sight nearly tipped her over the edge.

A distant siren wailed. She was vaguely aware of the computer’s hum, that someone along the street was playing party hits. Then she wasn’t aware of anything much at all.

The muscles in her stomach tensed, then spasmed. Her arms fell away from the desk to hang limply at her sides. Her thighs fell apart as her feet skidded away on the polished floorboards.

Oh, dear heaven…How had she let herself become so submissive so quickly? she wondered dimly. The little voice in her head warned her that allowing another man to take command of her in this way was a prelude to disaster. And, because this was Dane, he wasn’t only taking her body—he was taking her heart. The heart she’d sworn no man would take again. But for the life of her she couldn’t move, could only lie helpless and let him continue.

One large hand rose, tapped a couple of keys. The screensaver disappeared; an image of herself flashed onto the monitor. ‘What do you see?’ said the voice behind her.

She stared at the green unfocused eyes, the slackjawed mouth, and managed to close it. Barely. She saw a woman who’d well and truly lost it.

She saw the glint of fear in the passion-dark depths of her gaze.

‘Not me,’ she whispered, shocked. As she watched the monitor she saw his face join hers as he bent down next to her. ‘That woman is not me…’ She tried to struggle up, but Dane’s gaze was as captivating as any physical restraint.

‘Yes,’ he murmured. ‘It is.’

His eyes smoked with intent as he parted her liquid heat with his fingers, then pushed inside, a long slide to paradise. His jaw chafed the place between shoulder and neck; his breath whispered over her breasts.

He withdrew slowly, circled the throbbing centre, then plunged inside again. Wherever he touched, heat followed. Pleasure. Hot endless waves rippled through her while the computer’s inbuilt camera reflected it back.

Then she saw nothing but the bright sparkle of her climax as it carried her away.

The cheerful tones of Dane’s mobile brought her back to reality with a jolt. The air stirred and his heat dissipated. He moved to the other end of his L-shaped desk to answer it.

‘Hi, Jus,’ she heard him say, as if he’d just been working over a particularly absorbing computer problem rather than her. ‘No, nothing important.’

He chuckled, and her sparkle faded. Had he been referring to what they’d been doing? Biting her lips, she pulled the torn edges of the T-shirt together, clicked off the monitor so she couldn’t see herself.

‘I guess so.’ The easy humour drained from his voice. ‘What’s so urgent?’ He nodded, then a lopsided grin creased his face. ‘In that case, how can I refuse?’

She heard him flicking through papers and stole a glance at him. He jotted something down, then said, ‘Yeah. She’s staying here for now.’ He’d turned away from her as he spoke. He could have been talking about the weather. ‘No…’ His shoulders lifted, one hand fisted on the desk. ‘That’s the official line we’re taking, yeah.’ Silence while Justin spoke, then a low laugh. ‘I don’t think so.’

Did he already regret not being free to pursue whatever lady of the moment took his fancy? A shiver cooled the sparkling warmth she’d been enjoying just minutes ago.

She wanted him to look at her the way he’d been looking at her before. To show some indication that he’d enjoyed what they’d just done, that it wasn’t all onesided.

Her legs had recovered just enough to support her, so she rose and crossed to him, rolling the chair with her. He fumbled the pen as she inveigled her way between his body and the desk, but he managed to catch it mid-fall and jotted something else on his notepad.

His jaw was bristly when she ran her fingertips over it. ‘What?’ she mouthed, capturing his gaze with hers. His pupils swallowed up his irises until only a thin rim of molten silver remained. His confident business persona slipped. Whatever he had started saying to Justin slurred to a stop.

Finally she had his attention. She had Dane where she wanted him. Not Mariel his childhood friend, not Mariel who’d agreed to this arrangement for mutual benefit, but the sexual woman he’d made love to last night.

He shook his head. ‘Can you repeat that, Jus?’

She’d ruffled that smooth exterior, distracted his ordered mind. She’d never felt such rush of feminine power before. It swam through her limbs like the most potent brandy until her head was dizzy with it.

High on the elixir, she smiled and prodded his chest, so that his body tipped back onto the chair. It rolled back a little.

‘I’ll…ah…need you to e-mail me that info tonight.’

On a wave of confidence she shrugged out of the tattered T-shirt and stood before him in nothing but her lace panties.

‘When do we…um…when…?’His voice trailed away.

She slid her palms down her hips, stepped out of the last remnant of clothing, flung it over her shoulder. It landed on his desk with a quiet plop.

His eyes glazed over. ‘No. Everything’s fine. Just fine,’ he choked out as she worked deft fingers over the front of his shorts.

Without breaking eye contact, Mariel took the phone from his hand—as easy as taking candy from a baby. ‘Goodbye, Justin,’ she said, and disconnected. She straddled Dane, satisfied she’d achieved her intended outcome. Oh, yes, she saw desperation and desire, both sharp as a sword and glittering in those grey depths.

‘Right now…’ she tugged down the zip, grasping his throbbing length with both hands ‘…I’ve a craving for more than ice-cream.’

Dane’s brief chuckle turned ragged. His blood hammered through his groin, his ears, and every place between. ‘So I noticed,’ he muttered, before she crushed her lips to his and possessed him with fast, greedy bites. Long, luscious licks on fevered skin that cooled in the air as she feasted on his jaw, his neck, a shoulder.

She took him inside her with a cry that bounced off the walls and echoed like the thunder of horses’ hooves in his ears. Conquest, triumph, victory. He saw it in the emerald fire in her eyes. He took her mouth and tasted it on her lips.

In turn, he possessed her with restless hands and frantic touches. Gave her what she wanted, took what she offered. Urgent, reckless, primitive.

There was no gentleness, no finesse. Just the frenzied race to the finish. And when it was over, and she collapsed against him, still it wasn’t enough. He wanted more. He wanted to burrow beneath her skin, steal inside her mind. All. One.

Dangerous—this insatiable appetite. This all-consuming need. He enjoyed sex. But this sudden craziness was like an addiction that knew no limit. Which made him wonder: what the hell was it?

For one insane moment a couple of years back he’d even thought himself in love, but it hadn’t lasted. It never lasted. The ability to love simply wasn’t in his genes.

He drifted a hand over her hair, breathed her scent of sex and warm skin. He squeezed her nape so that she looked up at him with over-bright eyes.

‘Wow,’ she breathed. ‘I’m good. I mean, I’m really, really good.’

The laugh that bubbled up from his throat was a mix of amusement and affection. ‘Here I was, thinking it was me.’

Amusement and affection. He should have known with Mariel it would be that simple.

And that complicated.

His humour faded. ‘I have to go in to work tomorrow.’ He smoothed a thumb over Mariel’s jaw.

‘I thought you were on leave?’

‘I was. But there’s a problem with a computer system we installed a few weeks ago. Which means a quick trip to Mount Gambier.’

A day trip. ‘And Justin can’t go?’

‘Jus and Cass are busy trying to make a baby, and it’s Cass’s fertile time, apparently. According to Cass’s calculations tomorrow morning’s the charm.’

Her eyes widened, incredulous. ‘She’s pinpointed it down to the hour? Are you for real?’

‘That’s what Jus told me.’ The thought made him smile. ‘What could I say?’

She grinned, too. ‘Nothing but yes, I guess.’ Her mouth softened, her eyes took on a sparkle, dew on spring leaves. ‘Making a baby…’

Without warning the cunning image stole through his mind. Mariel, round with a child. With his child. He clenched his jaw against an unfamiliar crushing sensation in his upper chest.

He shook his head to clear the unsettling thoughts that struck too close, too deep, and somehow messed with his perception that he had this situation with Mariel under control.

‘That’s convenient, then,’ she went on, as if she hadn’t noticed his silence. ‘I want to work on some ideas, sketch a few designs. Acquire a tailor…I might even get some work done with you out of harm’s way and unable to distract me.’

His brows rose. ‘Me? Distract you? After what just happened here?’

‘You only have to be in the same room to distract me, Dane. It’s always been that way. But now I’ve discovered I do the same to you.’

His gaze drifted over her naked perfection. Already his body stirred with desire again. Fighting the irrational emotion that there was more to it, he shrugged and said, ‘I guess we’ll get it out of our systems eventually.’

Her delicate shoulders tensed. A weighty silence seemed to thicken the air. ‘I darn well hope so.’ Her voice was clipped as she climbed off him. She swiped her panties from the desk, shrugged into the remnants of his T-shirt and breezed towards the door.

He wished she’d turn so he could see her expression. ‘I’ll join you in a few moments.’

‘Not a good idea.’ She paused at the door. Only then did she face him, and her eyes were unreadable. Her compressed lips, however, told a story. She forced them into something approaching a smile when she saw him looking at them and said, ‘We’d spend all night keeping each other awake and I’m totally knackered. Goodnight, Dane.’

He sat for a long time, staring at the darkened doorway. He could hear her moving about in her room, could still smell her fragrance on the air. How the hell was he going to get back to normal without her when this was over?

Chapter Nine

MARIEL plopped face down onto her bed. She deserved an Academy Award for that performance, but she was pretty sure he’d bought it. Except for the fatal way she’d nibbled her lips. He’d seen it. Damn, he knew her too well.

Holding her pillow to her chest, she rolled over and stared up at the darkness. She’d managed to keep her tone as blasé as his. That was what it was all about, after all.

Her mouth twisted with grim humour. So she’d downplayed the intensity she knew they both felt by purposely bringing it up in conversation. He’d bought it, hadn’t he? She needed to keep up the façade because that was what they’d agreed on.

Besides, she tried to tell herself, they’d never make it as a couple. They’d never see eye-to-eye on any damn thing—from personal appearance and TV shows to family and kids. Or commitment.

She also needed to make it clear they weren’t going to do overnighters. If he saw her before she was wide awake she’d be vulnerable, and he’d see through her as easy as glass. It would be far too dangerous, because she was falling. Out-of-control falling.

Her heart seemed to curl in on itself; her fingers clenched against her pillow. Time for honesty, she decided. She’d already fallen. Head over heels. Big-time. All the way. She was in love with Dane. Always had been.

Now she knew every intimate inch of his body, knew the sounds he made in passion, the feel of him deep inside her. Friends would never be enough, and ‘lovers’ was a temporary arrangement.

She sent her pillow sailing through the air, heard it slump heavily against the dark antique wardrobe.

But it was done now. And it was vital that she keep up the charade, that he never knew what she felt deep in her soul, because that would put him in an impossible situation. He didn’t want permanency. He’d want to get back to his free lifestyle and bosomy blondes.

The bastard.

So she’d keep it light and easy. She’d make the most of the time they had and then…and then she’d walk away with the memories even if she walked away without her heart.

The following morning she kept to her plan. It wasn’t as hard as she’d anticipated because Dane was in a hurry. He didn’t stop for breakfast, grabbing a coffee on the run. But he did kiss her goodbye at the front door. A toe-curling kiss that went on and on and on, until the driver of the chauffeured limo waiting at the kerb to take Dane to the airport coughed discreetly.

Dane lifted his head and searched her face for a long moment. The early-morning sun struck his hair with gold, and heat blazed in his eyes, searing her cheeks. ‘Tonight,’ he promised.

She shook her head. ‘You’ll miss your flight.’ It occurred to her then that they were saying goodbye as if they were a married couple, and she backed away, unsettled. ‘Have a safe trip.’

‘I’ll call you.’

Blowing him a breezy kiss, she turned and walked back inside. Already she couldn’t wait to see him again. To hear his voice again. To feel his body against hers again.

It felt odd, walking through his house alone. A reminder that she was here only because they’d agreed it was the best way. It was vital she keep those impatient wants in perspective, because she couldn’t afford to want him this much.

If it were possible, their sexual relationship grew in intensity over the coming week. Because she wanted to work—and because she privately worried that they were becoming too close—Dane went about his business during the day and they only met up again in the evenings.

If he had a function to attend, she accompanied him. The press followed. They were a popular couple in the society pages. Speculation in the media mounted as to how long Dane would remain Bachelor of the Year, but he refused any interviews that involved talking about Mariel, insisting again that they were ‘just good friends’. Nor did he give Mariel any indication that his status as bachelor might change.

They shared quiet evenings at home, took a moonlit walk on the beach late one evening after a particularly hot day, relaxed by the pool. Doing ordinary things couples did.

And every night, they came together with a passion that gave no indication of slowing down or fading. A love affair, she told herself.

And affairs ended.

But they cared about each other, respected each other. She refused to think beyond each day, determined to enjoy it while it lasted.

Mariel learned that Dane owned a string of buildings within the central business district. There were tenants to deal with, a minor plumbing emergency, renovations to approve. He made preparations for his upcoming Outback trip. It seemed he’d purposely filled his life with distractions to keep him busy.

And it bothered her that he’d turned his back on the only family he had. She lay in bed one night, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. She knew they’d had their problems in the past, but the remorse in his father’s eyes on the night of the ball had convinced her there was hope, if only she could get Dane to see it.

Slipping out of bed, she grabbed her robe and padded downstairs. She poured herself a glass of milk, then carried it outside into the fragrant night air. Moonlight bathed the high stone walls and the luxury enclosed within. She turned to study the heritage building that was Dane’s home.

Dane was a proud man, bordering on arrogant. Independent. Stubborn. Too damn stubborn to admit he might be as fallible as any other mere mortal. Everyone needed family, even Dane. She sensed that deep down he was a little boy, still yearning for that connection.

So he had women, acquaintances, business associates, but when things fell apart or tragedy struck, what then? If she could do one thing for him, it would be to try to reunite father and son.

‘What are you doing out here?’

Startled out of her thoughts, she turned to see Dane standing in the doorway, a pair of loose boxers low on his hips. ‘Thinking.’ She walked towards him, pressed her head against his chest, listened to his heartbeat, strong and steady in her ear. ‘Just thinking.’

‘I can’t sleep either.’ His arms slid around her waist. They were silent a moment, while the crickets chirped around them and something rustled in the bushes.