Текст книги "The Affair"

Автор книги: Beth Kery

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Текущая страница: 20 (всего у книги 34 страниц)

Chapter 25

As they left the locked-off dressing room suite later, Vanni must have noticed her discomfort.

“What is it?” he asked quietly, pausing next to the door.

Emma gave him an exasperated glance. “It’s just so embarrassing. They all must know what we were doing in here.”

“They can imagine whatever they want. They don’t know anything. And it’s not remotely their business either way.”

Something struck her and she gasped, horrified. “Oh my God, what if there were surveillance cameras for security. Some places have those—”

“Not here,” he said firmly, giving her a pointed glance. “Trust me. I checked into it. I wouldn’t expose either of us like that. Okay?” he said with absolute certitude. She nodded.

His lips tilted as he lifted her hand to his mouth. Maybe he’d noticed her dazed expression. His lips felt warm when he brushed them across her knuckles. Immediately, the memory of what his mouth had felt like on her sex flamed vividly in her consciousness.

He exhaled and shook his head, an amused, fond expression on his face. “You’re blushing bright red again. I’m just going to go and pick up a few items from Sophia. Go on down to the first floor by the doors and try to cool off. I’ll meet you there.”

She was thankful she wouldn’t have to face Sophia or some of the younger sales associates again. She’d cringe in the presence of their knowing glances and smirks.

Once they were in the car and on Lake Shore Drive, Emma noticed something in the bag he’d set in the backseat. She reached behind her and withdrew the signature box of the perfume she’d been trying on in Macy’s, the one she loved but could never afford.

“The perfume!” she exclaimed, grinning. “You asked Sophia to get it?” He was wearing sunglasses, so she couldn’t see his eyes when he glanced at what she held.

“You smelled like straight-up sex when I found you at Macy’s earlier. It might have been partially responsible for what happened back there in the dressing room,” he stated wryly, staring at the road again.

“Really?” she said, letting the box fall back into the bag. “I thought it was really fresh and light, not . . . you know, musky or anything.”

“It was you that smelled like sex, Emma. The perfume was just a nice sideshow.”

At Vanni’s insistence, she called Amanda’s cell phone and left a message, saying not to expect her home that night. As they neared the Breakers, her excitement about spending the night with him mounted, but so did a niggling doubt.

“Will anyone be there, when we arrive?” she asked him delicately.

He shook his head as he drove down the country road. “No, I called Vera while you were in the dressing room and told her to let the staff go early, and for her to take off as well.”

Emma exhaled with relief. He gave her a swift glance. “Why?” he asked.

“She doesn’t like me. Your aunt. It would have just been . . . awkward to run into her in your house.”

“Has she said something to you?” Vanni asked, scowling darkly as he pulled down the lane that led to his lakefront property.

“She doesn’t have to say anything, Vanni,” Emma said with a short laugh. “She practically oozes loathing every time she looks at me.”

His mouth clamped together as they approached the garage. “I doubt that. But if she makes you uncomfortable, just ignore her. I told you, she can be a bit territorial at times.”

“So she hated other women you’ve seen in the past?” Emma asked as they approached the garage.

Vanni shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of, no,” he said, frowning slightly. “I did notice she seemed especially irritated when I brought you to Cristina’s funeral. I just thought she was set off balance because I was late. Vera is a real stickler for schedules. I unfortunately challenge her desire for order way too often.”

“Well it’s nice to know that I’m the only one who brings out the worst in her,” Emma said lightly, determined not to let Vera Shaw—or anything, for that matter—dampen her mood on this promising, stolen night alone with Vanni.

It turned out that Vanni had asked Sophia to bag a swimsuit to go because he planned an evening swim. He led her to a luxurious shower and changing room on the workout facility floor—not the same one she’d briefly walked into that night when she searched for a washer; this one was apparently just for women. He instructed her how to get to the swimming pool from there, and then told her he’d meet her in a few minutes.

Inside the bag he’d left her she found not only the perfume he’d bought her, but a darling sky-blue bikini, a cute sheer tunic to be used as a beach cover-up, and a pair of flip-flops.

Once Vanni had left, Emma took a quick shower. She was still very wet from what had happened in the dressing room. She washed herself carefully, realizing with a rush of arousal she was rinsing away Vanni’s essence as well as her own. She’d never had a man come inside her. She and Colin had used a condom even though she was on birth control. Emma wasn’t sure why, except to say they’d started out having sex with a condom and hadn’t altered their behavior. She heard so much about safe sex, especially as a nurse. Colin had probably thought her fussy, but he hadn’t complained.

She really was crazy for allowing this level of intimacy with Vanni. As she rinsed away some of his semen from her fingers, however, she admitted to herself that she didn’t regret it.

How could she regret anything in association with him? And it wasn’t as if they hadn’t taken measures to ensure safety.

She got out and dried off. In the shower area, she discovered a vanity with several grooming supplies stored beneath it. She opened a small bottle of mouthwash and used it and applied some deodorant. Knowing it was stupid, because it would only be washed away in the pool, she opened Vanni’s gift of the perfume and applied some behind her ears and at her pulse, smiling when she caught the scent. It felt sensual and indulgent, having a bottle of the coveted fragrance all for herself.

A minute later, she self-consciously examined herself in the mirror, wearing only the bikini and sandals. There hadn’t been much opportunity for her to be in the sun yet this year. She looked far too pale, although her cheeks, lips, and chest were still pink . . . sex-flushed, she realized.

She slipped on the beach cover-up, glad Sophia had the sense to include it.

It was a beautiful summer evening when she stepped out of the changing room door. The sun glinted off the gemlike spread of water, blinding her momentarily. It hadn’t cooled off much since the worst heat of the day, but the breeze from Lake Michigan was refreshing. Clutching a small bottle of sunscreen that she always kept in her purse, Emma descended the outdoor flight of steps that led to the pool level. When she got there, she saw that Vanni was already in the water. He was swimming laps, knifing through the water, his muscled back flashing and gleaming in the bright sun. Emma shed the tunic and flip-flops and sat at the edge of the pool, dangling her legs into the cool water. She smoothed on the sunscreen, distracted by the spectacle of Vanni swimming with such effortless ease. She was rubbing some of the lotion onto her thigh, when he paused at the edge of the pool, swiping his wet hair from his face. He swam over to her in a more casual crawl.

“Don’t let me interrupt you if you wanted to get more exercise,” she said, feeling a little self-conscious in her new swimsuit beneath the hot sun and Vanni’s stare. He grabbed ahold of the side of the pool with one hand, his forearm just an inch from her thigh. Her skin looked shockingly white next to his gilded glory.

“I’m fine. Here,” he said, holding out his other hand. She realized he wanted her to hand him the sunscreen bottle. She gave it to him. His narrowed aquamarine eyes seemed to glow in his burnished face as he studied the label.

“It’s a high enough SPF,” he said approvingly. “You’re very pale.”

She blushed at his matter-of-fact assessment.

He handed the bottle back to her, placed his hands on the side of the pool, and heaved himself out of the water with a fascinating flex of muscle. A small amount of water sprayed her, but mostly she was spellbound by his show of effortless strength and male beauty. He wore a pair of black trunks. They hung very low at his hips, highlighting the full, glorious spread of his Adonis-like torso. She unglued her gaze from the image of his ridged, taut abdomen sheened by moisture moving subtly in and out as he breathed.

“I keep a bottle in my purse,” she said holding up the sunscreen. Her fingers loosened in surprise when he reached for the bottle again. “I have to be prepared at all times, or else . . .”

“You burn?” Vanni filled in when she faded off. She watched him as he unscrewed the cap and squeezed a large dollop of the white liquid into his open hand.

“Yeah, but it’s these I worry about,” she pointed at her nose, “I really have to watch out for them getting worse,” she admitted wryly.

His teeth flashed in his sun-darkened face. She tightened at her core. Vanni’s smiles were like mainlining a sex stimulant.

“Your freckles, you mean?” He dipped his forefinger into the lotion and touched it to her nose. “I love these things,” he said, rubbing the sunscreen into her skin carefully. Emma’s eyes almost crossed as she watched him.

“You do?”

He nodded, his smile fading as he continued to smooth in the lotion.” Very sexy,” he said gruffly.

Her mouth fell open. His brows quirked.

“What? You don’t believe me?” he asked.

“I guess so,” Emma said, hiding her surprise. “It’s just kind of hard to imagine, I’ve hated them for so long.” He dropped his hand, apparently satisfied with that part of his task. He rubbed his hands together, spreading the lotion onto both palms. It was a very distracting sight.

“They’re as adorable and fresh as the rest of you. Twist around a little so I can do your back and shoulders.”

She did it quickly, glad for an excuse to hide her blush. He’d tease her about that, too.

“Is this stuff waterproof?” he asked from behind her as he spread the lotion onto her shoulders and the backs of her arms, kneading the muscles gently with strong fingers. The summer sun warmed the liquid. It felt wonderful.

“Yes,” she murmured, feeling a little drugged by his massaging hands. He transferred them to her back. His fingers slid beneath the strap of her bikini. Her eyes sprung open when the clasp released. In one quick motion, he drew the top over her head and tossed it aside.

“Vanni,” she said, stunned, her nipples prickling when a cool breeze swirled around them.

“What? There’s no one around,” he said unconcernedly, rubbing the lotion down her lower back.

“Oh. Okay.”

His low chuckle near her ear made the hair on her neck stand on end. “You’re blushing, aren’t you?”

“No,” she said, careful not to face him.

“If this makes you blush,” he said, ignoring her denial. “You’re going to be permanently red in the South of France.”

It took her a second to figure out what he meant. “Oh . . . because they sunbathe topless there?”

“Don’t worry, Emma,” he said. She heard the smile in his voice and realized he’d probably heard the thread of her anxiety. “It’s not like it’s a law or something. You’ll do whatever you’re comfortable doing. Come here,” he said quietly, his hands just above her waist. He hauled her into his lap. She squeaked in surprise, not only because she hadn’t expected it, but also because he was wet and she wasn’t.

As she settled, however, she realized he was warm beneath the cool moisture, and hard and . . . very nice.

“It’s easier to get at all of you this way,” he said, and she heard the sound of the bottle squeezing. She started to luxuriate at the sensation of sitting in his lap beneath a hot summer sun. She straightened in surprise, however, when instead of rubbing lotion onto her back, like she expected, he reached under her arms and cupped her breasts.

“Relax,” he urged from behind her. It was a little hard to do, though, because his cock had twitched under her ass at the moment he touched her breasts. Plus, it felt decadent, having her breasts massaged by Vanni’s lubricated, warm hands. He rubbed his whiskers gently against the back of her shoulder and she moaned. The slight abrasion in contrast with his squeezing, sliding hands sent a jolt of excitement through her. “You don’t think I’d let these beauties burn, do you?” he asked next to her shoulder, his deep, rough voice a rich seduction. “They’re even paler than the rest of you.”

Emma swallowed thickly. The dancing blue water sparkled in her eyes, entrancing her. She couldn’t think of what to say. She couldn’t think of anything.

“Emma?” he said, and his sharp voice cut through her dazed arousal.

“Yes?”

“You’re holding yourself off me. Stop it.”

She blinked, coming to herself at his hard tone. She realized she’d placed her hands on the outside of his thighs and that her arms were tense.

“Oh,” she said. It wasn’t as if she’d literally been suspended over him, but she had been resisting giving him all her weight. She relaxed her arms, letting herself sink fully against his hard thighs and cock.

“That’s better,” he said, his hands still massaging her breasts. “Why do you always act like my cock is going to burn you or something?”

She heard the focused puzzlement in his tone. It both amazed and aroused her, the way he always spoke of sexual things without a trace of self-consciousness.

“I guess because it does,” she admitted honestly. His massaging hands slowed. She felt him swell beneath her ass. “Not literally, obviously.” She rolled her eyes in frustration at her lame explanation. “I just mean you overwhelm me,” she said, closing her eyes, glad he couldn’t see her scrunched-up face.

“And that’s a bad or good thing?” he asked warily.

Her eyelids sprung open. Had he actually sounded worried? Vanni Montand?

“It’s a very, very good thing,” she assured. “I’m just not used to so much . . . potency.”

He resumed massaging her breasts. She could almost hear him thinking behind her. He rubbed her nipples with his thumb and forefinger, the sensation delicious with the lubrication. She flexed her hips into his cock and whimpered.

The moment felt very ripe with sensuality—the hot sun beating down on them, his cock growing erect beneath her ass, his big, warm hands massaging her bare breasts; but there was a tenderness to the unfolding seconds as well, a breathless fragility. She’d sensed a crack in his golden, rigid armor and realized that despite all his effortless confidence, he wasn’t all that different from her.

“Vanni?” she asked quietly, not looking around, but hyperaware of his face just behind her right shoulder.

“Yes?”

“Have you ever . . . done what we did . . . in the dressing room today?”

“Had sex in a department store?”

She laughed uncomfortably. “No . . . had sex without protection. I’m only asking because I haven’t,” she said quickly, anxious when he didn’t immediately respond.

“You haven’t?” he asked, his hands sweeping over her ribs and sides, spreading the lotion there. She shivered in pleasure and shook her head.

“Even though you were on birth control? Wasn’t your relationship with Colin monogamous?”

“Yes. Or I thought it was,” she said, thinking of Amanda and frowning.

“Why did you still use protection then?” Vanni asked behind her.

“It was my choice. And I don’t know why,” she said quietly, studying the rippling pool in front of her. “I was just thinking about that while I was showering before I came down.”

A silence ensued as he rubbed some lotion along the tender strip of skin above her bikini bottoms. That thick, heavy pressure in her sex amplified. She suddenly felt hot. Very hot.

“Just once. With one woman, I mean . . . a long time ago,” he said. She forced her attention back to the topic she’d broached. He was speaking of his wife, she knew by the tone of his voice. She wished she could ask him about her, but knew that had to be something he brought up. She couldn’t force him to talk about it. His finger glided along that sensitive patch of skin. Her clit prickled with excitement at his nearness. “But otherwise, no,” he mumbled. “Never.”

“What?” she asked, her attention diverted once again by his magical hands.

“I haven’t been with a woman like that in almost a decade. And there have been a lot of women, Emma.”

His brutally honest words seemed to hang in the air around them.

“Is that because of what you told Astrid that night?” she asked shakily, continuing to avoid his gaze. It seemed safer somehow, talking to the shimmering pool. “About having little to offer a woman? Is it because you don’t want to get too close to begin with?”

She sensed his tension at the question, but also his intent focus. Was he as caught up in the fragile moment as she was?

“Yes,” he said quietly, still rubbing that strip of skin so close to her pussy.

“Do you not want to get too close because you’re afraid of caring?”

His rubbing finger stilled. Emma couldn’t expand her lungs in the silence that followed.

“Because you’ve lost so many people,” she said on a gasp, already regretting her words, but knowing it was too late to turn back. Typical me, always having to fall face-first into the graves I dig. “I just thought maybe that was why you’d prefer not to get too close. This way, you don’t have to lose anything else.”

He still didn’t say anything, although his hand remained frozen on her pelvis.

She rolled her eyes, disgusted with herself for having brought it up. She pushed off his thighs forcefully. The next second, she was dropping, cool water rushing around her overheated sex and cheeks.

If only she could stay underwater forever.

She felt his legs swoosh against her belly as she rose, and then his hands were on her upper arms, lifting them both in the water. She broke the surface with a gasp, laughing a little when she saw his wet, scowling face. He pushed his hair out of his eyes.

“Why’d you do that?” he demanded.

“I thought you might be getting tired of my questions,” she said honestly, treading water. A rush of ebullience went through her at the delicious feeling of being in the cold pool in such a stunning setting. She spun in the water, looking around the landscaped terrace.

“It’s so beautiful here,” she said softly.

“Yeah . . . it’s okay,” he said, glancing around as if he hadn’t seen it in a while. His gaze seemed to clear when he looked at her face again. “It’s not La Mer, though.”

“La Mer?”

“My villa near Saint-Jeannet. It’s nestled on the cliff, but you can take a long staircase down the mountain to the Mediterranean. It was my father’s family’s home. Saint-Jeannet itself is this picturesque little medieval village. I can’t wait to show it to you.”

Emma blinked. He looked like a different man at that moment—relaxed and unguarded.

“It agrees with you,” she said.

“What does?” he asked, brows quirked.

“La Mer,” she murmured, studying his face. “You look happy when you talk about it.”

“Do I?” he said, looking vaguely surprised.

She nodded. “Why don’t you live there full-time?”

“Because my company is here. One of them, anyway. And because the Breakers is where I belong.”

She hated the shadow that fell across his face. She found the Breakers to be sublimely beautiful, but she had a feeling Vanni felt trapped there, somehow. Not by physical barriers, but mental ones. Spiritual ones. She sighed, knowing she couldn’t bring up such a weighty topic with him. But maybe she could lighten his mood, even in the midst of his shadows?

She splashed him full in the face. Emma couldn’t help but laugh, seeing the aloof prince sputtering and blinking water out of his eyes, an incredulous expression dawning. Laughing, she splashed him again. His eyes flashed dangerously when he got the water out of them. She gave a little yelp, guessing his next move, and plunged back in the water. She swam for all she was worth, unable to contain her laughter despite the water that splashed into her eyes and mouth. She’d just reached the far side of the pool, when he grabbed her ankle and yanked.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he growled, hauling her back against him.

She snorted with laughter, squirming in his firm hold. Things got worse when his fingers dug into her sides, tickling her.

“Oh no,” she gasped, laughing. “Stop. I hate to be tickled.”

“Well I hate having water splashed in my face,” he replied dryly.

“You do?” she asked, her eyebrows pinching in concern despite her inability to stop laughing and writhing around in his hold. He sobered and his tickling abruptly halted. He grabbed on to the side of the pool, steadying them.

“No,” he said, pulling her tighter against him so that her bare breasts crushed against the hard plane of his chest. His gaze traveled over her face hungrily. “I don’t.”

Then he was kissing her, deep and hard, his mouth hot in comparison to the cool water. Emma clutched his shoulders and forgot everything but the sensation of him.

“You give yourself so completely,” he said quietly against her lips a moment later.

“What?” she asked, her lust-impaired brain having trouble decoding his words.

“Just now. When I make love to you. You give yourself completely every time I touch you,” he said, his gaze traveling over her face with a tight focus. “I can feel it, Emma. I’m not sure it’s a healthy thing for you.”

“No?” she whispered.

He shook his head, a steely look overcoming his face as he stared at her lips. “No. But I’m becoming addicted to it, nevertheless.”

Suddenly he was moving along the pool wall, pulling her with him. When he reached the shallow end of the pool, he transferred her, carrying her with one arm at her back, the other below her knees. He took the steps out of the water and walked onto the terrace, moving very quickly.

“Where are we going?” she asked him as he stormed toward the house, his gaze fixed on the entrance.

“To bed,” he replied grimly.

He carried her all the way to his bedroom suite, closing the door behind them with a slam. Emma looked around curiously when they entered the bathroom. It was a wonderland, featuring warm, mahogany paneling on the walls, streamlined but beautiful white marble sinks, and a bidet. A small lounging area with two deep taupe armchairs and a table was arranged before a huge, deep, white marble tub. He set her in front of a stainless steel and glass shower. He opened the door and twisted the handle. Immediately water started to spout out from various directions and steam began to build.

“Get in,” he urged, sinking his thumbs into his trunks. He pulled the waistband forward in order to release his cock and then bent to jerk them down his thighs. He stood.

“Emma?” he said in a hard tone.

Her gaze skipped up to his face. She’d been staring at his full, flagrant erection. It bobbed in the air, jutting out from his taut, toned body. He nodded at her bikini bottoms.

“Oh yeah,” she mumbled, removing the last remnant of her clothing. He followed her into the shower and shut the door. “It feels so good,” she moaned. Her wet skin had pebbled when he’d carried her swiftly through the air-conditioned house. The heat felt decadent on her overly sensitive skin. He stepped closer to her, chafing her arms. Emma went still at the sensation of the smooth, hard head of his penis against her belly. She looked up at him slowly. He was watching her, his gaze smoldering.

“Warm enough?” he murmured, still chafing her arms.

She nodded.

“Good,” he said, his head lowering. He brushed his wet, firm lips against hers. “Your mouth is killing me,” he said as he nibbled at her lips. “I’m going to have it now.”

The sexual heat haze that had cocooned her popped. She stiffened. “I’m . . . I’m not very good at it,” she said against his plucking lips.

He raised his head and looked down at her.

“Who says?”

“Me,” she said honestly. Colin had never complained. It was just that Emma didn’t like giving him oral sex. She found it uncomfortable and trying and . . . frustrating.

He frowned and reached to turn off the shower. He opened the door and steam billowed out.

“You’re anxious again,” he said, pulling her behind him into the palatial bathroom. He picked up a cushy white towel from a nearby rack and unrolled it.

“I can’t help it,” she said, a hint of misery in her tone. She hated to disappoint him, but—

He palmed her jaw and tilted her face up, halting her in midsentence. “I know. It’s okay,” he said simply. Her mouth sagged open. “You just haven’t been introduced to it properly.”

“There’s a proper . . . introduction?” she asked awkwardly. He opened the enormous towel and started to dry her briskly.

“I suspect there is,” he said wryly, chafing her back and ass with the towel.

“You mean you don’t know?”

He bent his neck and pressed his forehead against hers. “We’ll just play around a little bit. Nothing serious. Like we did with the desserts?” he reminded her gruffly.

“Oh,” she said, a little amazed. And excited. “Okay.”

She saw the glint in his eyes before he looked down to dry himself off hastily.

“It’s like I told you before. I’m just making this up as I go along, Emma.”

“How to be with a novice, you mean?”

“No,” he said, taking her hand and leading her out of the bathroom. “How to be with you.”