The Platinum Collection. Maisey YatesЧитать онлайн книгу.
‘Lucy is adept at winning her way into jobs.’
‘While you’re the one with the steady career. That’s why she calls you her anchor.’
Elizabeth heaved a sigh. ‘This is a weird conversation to be having when we’re supposed to be enjoying a night of sexy fun, Harry.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. I’d call this an intimate conversation. We have all night to get to physical intimacy. We’ve been on the fringes of each other’s worlds for two years. I think I know Elizabeth fairly well—’ he rolled his head towards her, giving her his quirky smile ‘—but I want to get to know Ellie tonight.’
‘That’s yesterday, Harry. My childhood,’ she pointed out. ‘It’s not living in the moment.’
The blue eyes gathered the piercing intensity that always gave her discomfort. ‘Ellie is inside you right now,’ he said softly. ‘She’s the foundation of the woman you are. She directs your life.’
‘That’s ridiculous!’ she protested.
‘Is it? You’re the older child, the one who helped your mother, the one who protected your sister, the one who carried the responsibility of arranging everything when your mother was ill, when she died, the one who wants a man in her life who will never do to her what her father did to her mother, to his children.’
He was digging at her again—digging, digging, digging! In a burst of frustration, Elizabeth swung her legs off the lounge, sat up straight and glared at him. ‘I did not come up here to be psychoanalysed, Harry.’
He swung his legs down to the deck in a more leisurely fashion, his eyes holding hers in glittering challenge. ‘No, you didn’t. Ellie wanted to break out of the Elizabeth cocoon and fly free for once, didn’t she?’
She hated how he could connect everything up and be so damned right about everything! It made her feel naked in far more than the physical sense. In a purely defensive action, she snatched the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket, intending to refill her glass.
Harry took it from her. ‘Allow me.’
She did, letting him pour the champagne, though it made her feel he was taking control away from her, which wasn’t how she’d planned to have this encounter with Harry. ‘Do you probe into the lives of all your one-night stands?’ she asked waspishly.
He cocked an eyebrow at her. ‘What makes you think my life consists of a series of one-night stands?’
‘The way you flirt. Michael said you flirt with every woman. It isn’t just me.’
‘Flirting can be fun. It can be enjoyable to both parties. In a way it’s a search for that magic click which will lead to bed, but that doesn’t happen very often. When it has, I can’t recall one instance when it only lasted for one night. You’ve assumed something about me that isn’t true, Ellie.’
‘Well, this is only going to be for one night,’ she insisted, needing to regain the control that seemed to be sliding out of her grip.
‘Why?’
‘Because...’ She floundered, not wanting to say the whole idea had erupted from the fact his brother was going to be here with her sister and she hadn’t really looked beyond that painful circumstance. ‘I just don’t want to get heavily involved with you, Harry,’ she said evasively, wishing he would simply accept what she’d offered him.
‘Why not? You think I’ll let you down?’
Yes was on the tip of her tongue but he didn’t give her time to say it.
‘Did I let you down when you needed to cover up your distress over Mickey attaching himself to your sister? Did I let you down when you needed an escape from them? Have I let you down in fulfilling your requests this week, meeting what you wanted? Haven’t I shown I care about how you feel, Ellie?’
She couldn’t deny any of that, yet... ‘It...it fitted into your own agenda,’ she blurted out.
‘Which is?’ He bored in.
Her head was spinning from the pressure he was subjecting her to with all his questions. She had to seize on the one point she was certain of, drive it home. She set her glass on the table, stood up, challenging him to get on with what he’d been aiming for all along.
‘Having me like this! Accessible!’ She threw the words at him. ‘So why don’t you stop talking and take what you want with me?’
* * *
Anger burned through Harry. He’d tried to reach out to her, tried to find a special meeting ground with her. She just kept closing her mind, shutting the door on him, keeping him out. He set his glass down, rose to his feet and hurled her confrontation right back in her face.
‘You want to be treated like a piece of meat instead of a woman I care about? Fine! Just stand there and let me oblige!’
HARRY saw her eyes dilate with shock.
He didn’t care.
She’d invited him to take her without caring and his level of frustration with her was so high, turning away from following through on her invitation was beyond him. His hands lifted and cupped the breasts they’d wanted to cup in Mickey’s office days ago. He fanned her rock-hard nipples with his thumbs. The soft sheer fabric of the butterfly blouse gave a sensual sexiness to feeling her like this, causing a rush of hot blood to his loins.
He wanted her.
He’d been burning up for her all week.
Her eyes refocused on his, still slightly glazed but clearing as she sucked in a deep breath.
Yes, look at me! he thought savagely. Know it’s me and not Mickey!
He undid the button holding her blouse together and spread the edges apart, wanting to feel the naked lushness of her breasts against his chest. His arms slid around her waist, scooping her into firm contact with him. It felt good. It felt great.
‘Harry...’ It was a husky gasp.
He didn’t want to hear anything she had to say. His name on her lips shot a soaring wave of triumph through him—his name, not Mickey’s—and he was hell-bent on keeping it stamped on her consciousness. His mouth crashed onto hers, intent on a blitzkrieg invasion that would blast any possible thought of his brother from entering her head.
To his surprise her tongue started duelling with his and a wild elation burst through his brain when her hands clutched his head, not to tear them apart but to hold them together, her fingers kneading his scalp, her mouth working to meet and escalate the passion surging through him.
He pressed one hand into the sexy pit of her back, forcing her body into contact with his erection as he pulled the bikini string at her hip apart, changed hands to do the same with the other, whipped the scrap of fabric from between her legs. The lovely female curves of her naked bottom were sensual dynamite, igniting his need for her to the brink of explosion.
He tore his hands off them to sweep the blouse from her shoulders and pull it off her arms. It broke her hold on his head, broke the marauding madness of their kissing, but it had to be done. She was fully naked now, totally accessible to anything he wanted with her.
He bent and scooped her off her feet, holding her crushed to his chest as he strode from the deck, into the villa, up the steps to the mezzanine level. He tumbled her onto the king-size bed, snatched up the contraceptive sheath he’d laid ready on the bedside table, discarded his board shorts in double-quick time, pulled on the sheath and leapt onto the bed, rolling her straight into his embrace, not allowing any sense of separation to strike any doubts about what they were doing in her mind.
Their mouths locked again, driving passion to fever pitch. Her body was arching into his, explicitly needful. He