Page 9 of Wife for a Week

This was madness, she thought as she buried her hands in his hair and demanded more. Utter madness, as Nick cupped her buttocks and surged against her as his lips rushed over her shoulder, her collar-bone, the swell of her breast, and it was all she could do not to whimper when his mouth found the peak of her breast through the thin layers of silk. All she could do not to scream when his teeth and tongue came into play.

‘Nick.’ He’d found the clasp on her trousers, his fingers at her waist setting off feathery tremors of sensation. ‘Nick! He’s gone.’

‘Who’s gone?’ His eyes were black, his breathing was ragged, but comprehension dawned. ‘Oh, yeah, him.’ His hands stilled, and his big body shuddered as he struggled for control. ‘Just give me a minute here.’

No problem. She could do with a minute or two herself. Not to mention a few more metres of unoccupied personal space.

He let her go, let her put some distance between them, but her skin was on fire from his touch and her breasts ached for the feel of his hands and his lips on them again. Half blind with unfulfilled need, she staggered towards the centre of the room. And stopped.

The floor was the palest marble streaked with grey. The furniture was intricately carved cherry wood inlaid with mother of pearl. The furnishings were red. Not dull red, not blood-red, but a bright primary-colour-wheel red. The floor rug, the drapes, the bed…yes, indeed, the bed was undeniably red, with enough cushions and pillows piled against the headboard to furnish a small orphanage.

‘I thought you said there was a sofa as well,’ she said at last.

‘There was,’ said Nick, frowning. ‘It used to be over by the far wall.’

Well, there certainly wasn’t one there now. Nothing in this room but a bed. A big red bed.

‘The Chinese consider red a fortuitous colour,’ said Nick. ‘It’s supposed to bring good luck.’

‘Good,’ she muttered. Because they were definitely going to need it if they were going to be sharing that bed. ‘Mind if I take first shower?’

‘Go ahead.’ Nick gestured towards a door to her right.

The bathroom was marble too, all marble, with gold taps, red towels and the biggest glass-walled shower cubicle she’d ever seen. Two shower rosettes in that cubicle. Two of them, side by side, commanding her attention the way the bed had in the other room.

‘Or we could shower together and save time,’ he said from the doorway.

Did he honestly think that getting wet and naked with him was going to save time? She slid him a glance. He was leaning against the doorframe, his smile crooked and his eyes dark.

No, he didn’t think that either.

Nick knew women. Knew the feel of them in his arms and in his bed. More than that, he liked women and they could generally be counted on to like him right back. But he’d never met a woman who affected him the way Hallie Bennett did. Hell, when she was in his arms it was all he could do to recall his own name, let alone the terms of their agreement.

So she was amusing…women often were.

So she was beautiful…there were plenty of women out there who were that too.

But since when had he ever wanted to watch a woman’s face for ever, just so he wouldn’t miss whatever she came out with next? Since when had a woman ever distracted him from his work and his goals for the company? Since when had a woman ever had that kind of power over him? Since never, that was when. And he didn’t like it, not one little bit.

Hallie Bennett was here to solve his woman problems, not cause more.

By the time she emerged from the bathroom, sleek and elegant in a moss-green sheath, he was thoroughly riled. It didn’t help that he knew he was being unreasonable, that she’d only been doing what they’d agreed on in the first place. It certainly didn’t help that she took one look at him and judged his mood in an instant.

‘Pick a topic, any topic,’ she said airily. ‘Religion, politics, whatever you like. I’m sure we can come to a disagreement about something.’

‘Sport,’ he said abruptly. There wasn’t a woman of his acquaintance who could talk sense when it came to sport.

‘Of course, there’s only one real sport and that’s soccer,’ she stated firmly.

‘Football,’ he corrected.

‘Whatever. I favour Brazil, myself.’

‘Because they win?’

‘No.’ Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ‘I’m pretty sure it has something to do with the green and gold uniform.’

‘You support Brazil because of the colour of their shirts?’ Now they were getting somewhere. ‘That’s ridiculous.’

‘Would you rather I supported them because they’re fascinating to watch and consistently produce some of the finest strikers in the world?’

‘Er, no. That would defeat the entire purpose of the conversation. I’m trying to find something to dislike about you.’

‘Ah.’ And with a very sweet smile. ‘About the shower…I’m afraid I used all the hot water.’

‘Hmph.’ Even that wasn’t a problem, he thought glumly as he gathered up his shaving kit and stalked towards the bathroom. A cold shower was just what he needed.

The shower helped. Helped enough so that when they went downstairs Nick was cool, calm and back in control. He could do this. They could do this. It was far too late to back out now. They had to do this.

John Tey arrived home from work with Kai at his side just as they stepped onto the terrace so it was introductions all round with Hallie making all the right noises: assuring their host that Jasmine had made them more than welcome in his absence, that the trip had not been at all tiring and that, yes, she was definitely looking forward to her stay, and delivering it all with such warm approachability that John Tey didn’t stand a chance.

Within five minutes she’d discovered that their host clipped his own hedges and spent an hour every morning practising t’ai chi. That he owned an extensive art collection and that Jasmine was an accomplished silk painter. Five minutes and Jasmine was giggling, John was smiling, and even the po-faced Kai had relaxed his guard, and it was all Hallie’s doing as she charmed them with her warmth, wit and enthusiasm for life. Whatever the moment held, she embraced it; be it a computer game or a kiss, she gave it everything she had.

Damn but the woman could kiss.

‘Do you collect antiquities?’ John asked her as she bent to examine a little jade horse set on a marble pedestal.

‘My father does. John, this is exquisite. Early Qing dynasty, isn’t it? I’ve never seen one in such good condition.’

Nick blinked at her knowledge of little green horses. John beamed at the compliment.

‘Kai will drive you to some of our smaller private galleries in the morning if you wish. There you will find many beautiful pieces. Perhaps even a memento of your stay with us.’

‘Perhaps.’ Hallie smiled easily, her glance encompassing them both. ‘I don’t want to disrupt any plans you have in place but I’d love to see the New Year decorations in the city as well. And the lion dancing…Maybe buy some oranges…’

Jasmine was nodding her head in vigorous agreement. John’s gaze was wry as it rested on his daughter.

‘My daughter has also suggested she show you these things. Would tomorrow be suitable?’ And to Jasmine, ‘You will let Kai know when you wish to leave.’

‘But, Father, surely we can go alone.’

‘No.’ It was the first time Nick had ever seen him refuse his daughter anything.

‘But, Father—’

John Tey held up his hand and there was instant silence from Jasmine.

‘Kai will accompany you.’

Jasmine bent her head in acquiescence. ‘Yes, Father.’

‘So it is settled.’ John was back to playing charming host. ‘Come, Nick. You must try the spring rolls. Jasmine makes them herself.’

As far as Hallie was concerned the evening passed pleasantly and far too quickly, the problem being that as soon as they retired for the evening she and Nick would have to confront that big red bed. The sofa was gone, that much was certain, and the floor was made of marble. She certainly wasn’t going to sleep on a marble floor, nor did she expect Nick to. No, they were going to have to share the bed and somehow she was going to have to keep her hands to herself.

So she was slightly nervous as they headed for the guest suite, slightly bug-eyed as he followed her into their room, loosening his tie as he closed the door before automatically proceeding to the buttons of his shirt. Habit, that was all; there was nothing sexual about it. But she couldn’t let him continue.

‘Bathroom,’ she said sternly, pointing the way.

‘Right.’ Nick scooped up his toiletries and headed for the bathroom without another word.

One week. Be professional. She could do this.

Hallie’s gaze slid to the bed.

How on earth was she going to do this?

By the time he’d finished in the bathroom and Hallie had had her turn and slipped into her Mickey Mouse singlet and boxers-for-girls she had it figured. Fortunately, Nick wasn’t in bed yet. He was standing at the window, a dark silhouette against the night sky, and if she thought he looked good in a suit it was nothing compared to what he looked like in tight black boxers.

‘I’ll take the floor,’ he said.