Page 23 of She Devil
Perhaps this is harder for her than she’s willing to admit. Perhaps my delaying tactics are getting to her, the anticipation making her crazy.
I hope so. Because I don’t know how much more of this I can take myself. I long to touch her, to see her give in to the desire she so tightly controls. To reignite a part of her I know is still burning on low inside. To see the April I used to know again.
I force myself to take a step away, my body aching with regret.
‘I think it’s time we retired for the evening,’ I murmur, trying not to react when I see frustration flash across her face.
‘You should have everything you need in your room,’ I add. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’
Without another word, I give her a casual nod of goodbye and walk away, feeling her perplexed gaze boring into me the whole way back to the house.
CHAPTER SIX
April
IHADN’TBEENexpecting that—the gentle redressing of my body, as if he was concerned for my dignity. And I certainly hadn’t expected to be left standing alone on that beach, my whole body throbbing with unsatisfied need.
Once Jamie disappears into the house I take some deep, shuddering breaths and try to get my hands to stop shaking.
He’s turning me into a half-crazed mess.
But perhaps that’s his plan. He wants to see me lose my legendary cool.
Can he really be that shallow? I can’t quite reconcile it with the Jamie I’m starting to get to know all over again. The philanthropic businessman. The talented cook and attentive host.
A man I’d told myself he wasn’t capable of being.
But I can’t let that knowledge sway me. So what if he doesn’t appear to be the shallow arsehole I thought he was? It doesn’t mean it would be a good idea to get emotionally involved with him again. It doesn’t mean he’s not playing a sadistic game of cat and mouse with me.
I trudge back to the house, bra in hand, hyper-aware of my sensitive nipples rubbing against the soft material of the dress like a caress. Everything I’ve sensed, seen or touched since I’ve been here in his company has felt sexualised, as if Jamie’s ministrations, or lack of them, have put my body on constant high alert. The empty space between my legs throbs with the need to be filled. To feel the heavy weight of his cock inside me again.
Damn it. I’m letting him get to me and that can only end in disappointment and pain. Just like the last relationship we had. Men are selfish, self-serving beasts and Jamie De Montfort is no exception.
Like father, like son.
As soon as I get back to my room I take another cooling shower before retiring to bed.
I sleep fitfully till the early-morning sun bleeds around the shutters on my windows waking me up.
Getting out of bed, I stretch my tired muscles and take some deep centring breaths, preparing myself for a brand new day of tactical engagement, my stomach fizzing with nerves.
Jamie is nowhere to be seen when I make it downstairs, dressed and ready for battle in a pair of blue silk shorts and a simple white cotton vest-top.
I make my way to the kitchen, where I find fresh aromatic coffee and a plate full of pastries waiting for me. I pour myself a large mug of black coffee and take it with a custard-filled filo parcel through the living area and out to the terrace where we’d sat the night before. Even though the sun isn’t fully on that part of the house yet, it’s lovely and warm, and I sink into a dining chair and sip my coffee as I stare out to sea.
It really is beautiful here. I can see why Jamie bought this island. There’s an air of serenity about the place, a calmness that’s impossible to find in London. It’s been a long time since I’ve just sat and stared, I realise. Usually I’m looking at my emails while eating my breakfast. My stomach gives a nervous roll at the thought of what’s happening—or more to the point, what isn’t—without me.
It’s so hard to turn my brain off from work. I seem to eat, sleep and breathe it nowadays. No wonder I’m finding the quiet and stillness of this place so unnerving.
I’ve just finished my delicious pastry when there’s a movement in the corner of my eye and Jamie strides onto the terrace in gym shorts, his glorious torso naked and gleaming with sweat in the soft morning sun. My stomach swoops and my face immediately heats as though someone’s just directly aimed a furnace at it. Reaching for my coffee mug, I take a long sip to give me a moment to compose myself.
My God, he looks good after just working out. Hot, virile and so bloody healthy.
‘Morning. I hope you slept well,’ he says, his tone practically winking with innuendo. He must know how much his teasing game of slow seduction is getting to me.
‘Very well, thanks,’ I say coolly. It might be visibly obvious that I’m struggling with his half-naked presence but there’s no way I’m vocally going to admit to it. I need to maintain some vestige of pride here. ‘I hope you don’t mind—I helped myself to breakfast,’ I add.
‘Of course not. I put it out so you could.’
