Terms Of Possession. Elizabeth Power

of insemination, with its various tests and no guarantee at the end of it all of success, had all been considered too time-consuming-and time was running out. So really what choice had she had?

      ‘No.’ Glad that he had preferred to keep it a totally private affair, and with a steely determination, she lifted her small chin, resolve in every taut line of her fine bone-structure. ‘When I enter into a contract—even if it’s only a verbal one—I honour it.’

      Cameron’s mouth took on the barest curve. A disciplined mouth, she had always thought, that could disarm or slay with a single movement. And then every nerve seemed to pulse into violent life as, slipping a hand under the rich sheen of her hair at the nape of her neck, he whispered, ‘I’m pleased to hear it,’ and drew her face purposefully towards his.

      ‘Cameron…’

      ‘Hush.’ The gentle touch of his lips silenced her uncertain murmur, causing her blood to pump with dizzying force along her veins. Their bodies weren’t actually touching, but the rough texture of his cheek with the subtle scent of his cologne and the slow brush of his mouth over hers sent such a shiver of sensuality through her that she stiffened in unconscious withdrawal. He was Lisa’s husband! She had no right…

      ‘Relax.’

      Of course. He could tell. Nothing would escape him. He was trained to observe and detect every small flinch, every weakness in the human character.

      ‘I’m sorry.’ She closed her eyes to blot out the sight of his tall, wholly masculine figure as he pushed back the auburn waves from her shoulder, his dark head inclining to the bare flesh he had exposed.

      Nadine sucked in her breath. Dear God, how long had she wanted this? ‘Cameron, I…’ Her breath shuddered through her lungs, making her voice sound provocatively husky. ‘I mean…’ Oh, goodness! Was this really happening? ‘I thought…’ What had she thought? That it would be quick and emotionless—at least on his part? Not this dangerously gentle seduction that was threatening to liberate the futile emotions she had nursed for him since she was eighteen and which she had bound in iron fetters the day he had married Lisa. ‘Couldn’t we just…?’

      His laugh was a soft rumble in his throat. ‘We could,’ he murmured silkily, trailing kisses along the smooth line of her throat to the lobe of her ear. ‘But you wouldn’t thank me for that.’

      No, she thought, clenching her hands at her sides to stem the shocking tide of prohibited pleasure that ran through her as his tongue found the sensitive inner curve of her ear. At thirty-four, he would know women well-and the effect he had upon them without even trying.

      ‘You’re trembling.’ His hands were resting on her shoulders, strong and firm. ‘I know the circumstances of this…arrangement might be a bit unusual, but you’re not a child. Being in this situation with a man—’ his chin lifted to embrace the sensuously lit bedroom ‘—surely can’t be entirely foreign to you?’

      Nadine gulped. If only he knew! ‘No,’ she lied, unable to tell him just how inexperienced she was—that she’d never met another man who had interested her beyond anything even mildly physical since the day he’d stormed into her office during her first week in his chambers all those years ago and castigated her for an incompetence that hadn’t been her fault. And at that moment she envied his confident maturity, his sexual sophistication that far exceeded her own.

      Nevertheless, she still wasn’t prepared for the extent of her own startling reaction as he suddenly pulled her against him, for her body’s shocking response to the hard warmth of him through her nightdress, to the sudden firm demands of his mouth.

      Sensations shook her, her knees seeming to liquefy so that her hands slid to his shoulders and clung to him, to the solidity of warm muscle beneath the soft sensuality of his shirt.

      How many nights had she lain awake as a hapless teenager, stifling her feverish longing for this in the dark oblivion of her pillow? How many times since had she discouraged male interest beyond anything further than the odd innocent kiss, finding all potential suitors lacking the dangerous and exciting dynamism of this one man?

      His arms were tightening like a vice around her so that she could feel every hard, aroused sinew of his body. She shuddered with the sensations she was fighting to control, wrought with the almost unbearable exertion of self-restraint.

      How could she allow herself to feel like this? To forget that he was married—married to Lisa! She tensed, groaning a soft protest, and through her swimming senses heard him say, ‘Come on, Nadine. Loosen up. It’s only you and me.’

      And for you it’s just a business arrangement, she thought, stifling the silent despair in her heart by telling herself rather unconvincingly that she was doing this solely to help her mother.

      ‘It’s all right for you. I…’ How could she tell him that she didn’t wholly know what was expected of her? That she was afraid to let herself go, because if she did then he might guess just how she felt about him?

      ‘Leave it to me, Nadine.’

      Almost as if he had read her mind he was taking command, and she caught her breath as he suddenly lifted her easily and carried her over to the bed.

      His hands, burning through the apricot satin, were like flames to dry kindling, and she had to bite her bottom lip to stem a cry at their pleasuring warmth. He was a master at this, she thought hazily as those hands shaped her feminine softness, her breath coming shallowly as he suddenly slipped the thin straps off her shoulders, drew her nightdress down over the creamier satin of her breasts.

      ‘You’re lovely.’ His whispered appreciation of her showed in the taut lines of his face, and she closed her eyes to the deepening blue of his.

      She could hear the ragged quality of his breathing, feel the hardening of his body as he lay across her, his lips burning over the soft, creamy rise of her breasts.

      He was aroused, she thought, tensing. And—dear heaven—so was she. And yet…Beads of perspiration broke out across her forehead, along the perfect top line of her mouth. He was a man. It was his prerogative to enjoy a woman. But if she expressed the same pleasure…

      ‘It’ll be easier if you relax.’

      Of course, he knew. There was an impatient edge to the deep voice as he moved away from her, and she didn’t need to open her eyes to realise that he was shrugging out of his clothes. Yet how could she do as he was suggesting without giving herself away? Or, worse, making him think that she was entirely wanton?

      When he came back to her, though, peeling the last barrier of satin from her body, the touch of his warm flesh against hers was like an electric charge to her senses, and she stifled a gasp, jaw clenched against the sweetness piercing her lower body, as he suddenly dipped his head to her breast.

      ‘Oh, please…’ It came out as a shuddering protest against the insidiously sweet torture of his mouth.

      Eyes shuttered, hair spread like fiery silk across the pillow, she waited tensely as he moved. If only he would end it now—get it over with before her body betrayed her…

      ‘Look at me.’

      His imperative tone broke through her silent struggle. His eyes were a deep, inky blue. His usually groomed hair was ruffled, his features impassioned, and the skin over those prominent cheekbones was taut, flushed with need.

      ‘Are you always so uptight when you’re making love? What does a man have to do to relax you? Show me what you want.’ His voice seemed to shudder from within the deep wall of his chest. ‘What is it you want? Show me, Nadine.’

      You! She censored the thought from her brain before it could take shape. She had no right to think it! No right at all! But the burn of his lips across the flat plane of her stomach and the deep persuasion of his voice were robbing her of her last vestige of control. Her need seemed to explode inside her, shattering her restraint into fragments, galvanising her into a sobbing, writhing surrender that she couldn’t have kept from him any longer any more than she