Deal With The Devil. Дженнифер Хейворд

with things on her own but—’

      ‘This conversational road is guaranteed to lead to a dead end,’ he drawled smoothly. ‘Let’s do ourselves a favour and not travel down it.’

      ‘You enjoyed the supermarket experience.’ Brianna changed the subject immediately. She didn’t want an argument. She didn’t even want a mild disagreement, and she knew what his feelings were on the subject of their soon-to-be visitor, even though he had backed off from making any further disparaging remarks about her naïvety in taking in someone whose entire life hadn’t been laid out on a plate for her perusal.

      ‘It was...novel.’ Actually, Leo couldn’t recall the last time he had set foot in a supermarket. He paid someone to deal with the hassle of all that.

      ‘Margaret Connelly has only just opened up that place. Actually, it’s not a supermarket as such.’

      ‘I’d noticed.’

      ‘More of a...a...’

      ‘Cosy space filled to overflowing with all manner of things, of which food is only one component? Brussels sprouts nestling next to fishing tackle...?’

      ‘The lay out can seem a bit eccentric but the food’s all fresh and locally sourced.’

      Leo grinned, swivelled her so that she had her back to him and began massaging her shoulders. ‘You sound like an advertisement for a food magazine. I’m going to have to put my foot down if you’re thinking of slaving over a hot stove preparing dishes on this woman’s whim.’

      Brianna relaxed into the massage and smiled with contentment. She felt a thrill of pleasure at the possessive edge to his voice. ‘She has to be on a bland diet—doctor’s orders.’

      ‘That’s irrelevant. You’re not going to be running up and down those stairs because someone rings a bell and wants a cup of tea immediately.’

      ‘You could always do the running for me if you think I’m too fragile to cope.’

      Leo’s lips curled with derision and he fought down the impulse to burst into sardonic laughter. ‘Running and doing errands for people isn’t something I do.’

      ‘Especially not in this instance,’ Brianna said, remembering that he was, after all, a paying guest despite their unusual arrangement. He had given her a shocking amount of money for his stay thus far, way too much, and had informed her that it was something to do with company expenses owed to him before he’d quit his job. She hadn’t quite understood his explanation. Nor had he backed down when she refused to take the full amount.

      ‘Take it,’ he had ordered, ‘Or I’ll just have to find another establishment that will accommodate what I want to pay. And I shall end up having to take taxis here to see you. You wouldn’t want to add that further cost to a poor, struggling writer, would you?’

      ‘What do you mean?’ Leo stilled now.

      ‘I mean you’re a customer. Running up and down stairs isn’t something I would ask you to do. That would be ridiculous. I would never take advantage of you like that.’

      ‘But you would take advantage of me in other ways...because I happen to enjoy you taking advantage of me in all those other imaginative ways of yours...’

      ‘Is sex all you ever think about?’ she murmured, settling back against him and sighing as he slipped his hands underneath her jumper to fondle her breasts.

      No. Sex most certainly had never been all he thought about. In fact, Leo contemplated with some bemusement, although he had always enjoyed an exceptionally varied and active sex life it had never been at the top of his priorities. Sex, and likewise women, had always taken a back seat to the more important driving force in his life, which was his work.

      ‘You bring out the primitive in me,’ he said softly into her ear. ‘Is it my fault that your body drives me insane?’ He relaxed into the sprawling sofa so that he had Brianna half-lying on top of him, her back pressed against his torso, her hair tangled against his chest. He removed one hand to brush some of her hair from his cheek and returned his hand to her jeans to rest it lightly on her hip. A stray sheet of paper wafted to the ground, joining a disconcerting bundle already there.

      Brianna’s body was responding as it always did, with galloping excitement and sweet anticipation. She might very well joke that sex was the only thing on his mind, but it certainly seemed to have taken over all her responses as well. Even the problem supplier she knew she had to deal with urgently was forgotten as she undid the button and zip of her jeans.

      ‘Tut, tut, tut; you’re going to have to do better than that, my darling. How am I expected to get my hand where it wants to be?’

      Brianna giggled softly. He had no hang-ups about where they made love. His lack of inhibition was liberating and it worked in tandem with her own period of celibacy to release an explosion of passion she had never experienced in her life before. She couldn’t seem to get enough of him.

      She wriggled out of her jeans and he chuckled.

      ‘For someone with a body like yours, I’m always amazed that you’ve stuck to the functional underwear...’ He thought about seeing her in something small, lacy and sexy, lying in his super-king-sized bed in his penthouse apartment in Chelsea.

      The thought was random, springing from nowhere and establishing itself with such graphic clarity that he drew in his breath sharply with shock.

      Hell, where was his mind going? This was a situation that was intensely enjoyable but it only functioned within very definite parameters. Like it or not, they were operating within a box, a box of his own making, and freedom from that box in any way, shape or form was a possibility that was not to be entertained.

      With that in mind, he cleared his head of any inappropriate, wandering thoughts about her being in his apartment. Crazy.

      ‘Is that how you like your women?’ Brianna asked casually. He never spoke about his love life. A sudden thought occurred to her and, although this hardly seemed the time for a deep, meaningful conversation, she had to carry on regardless. ‘Is that why you’re here?’

      ‘What are you talking about?’

      Brianna wriggled so that she was on her side, still nestled between his legs, and she looked up at him, breathing in that clean, tangy scent that always seemed to scramble all her thoughts. His hand was curved on her hip, fingers dipping against her stomach. Even that small, casual contact did devastating things to her already hot, aroused body. She was slippery and wet, and it was mad, because she had to get things together before Bridget arrived.

      ‘You know, all the way from London.’

      ‘No clue as to what you’re talking about.’

      ‘Never mind. We need to start tidying up.’ She sighed. ‘Bridget’s going to be here soon.’

      ‘Didn’t they say that they would telephone you before they left the hospital?’

      ‘Yes, but...’

      ‘No phone call yet.’ After the disturbing tangent his thoughts had taken only moments before when he had imagined her in his apartment, the last thing Leo wanted was a heart-to-heart. He wanted to touch her; touching her was like a magic antidote to thinking. Hell, he had worked while he had been here, but his mind had not been on the cut and thrust of business deals with its customary focus. This was as close to a holiday as he had had in years, and the last thing he had expected when he had started on this journey of discovery.

      He reached under her knickers, a dull beige with not a scrap of lace in sight, and slid his finger against the wet crease, seeking out the little nub of her clitoris. This was so much better than talking and a damn sight more worthwhile than the sudden chaos of thoughts that had earlier afflicted him.

      Brianna moaned softly as he continued to rub. She squirmed and sighed and half-closed her eyes, her nostrils flaring and her breathing thickening the closer she came to a point of no return.

      Questions