‘And God knows I want you,’ he groaned, his tongue tracing the outline of her lips, daring further intimacies as they parted to that sensual caress. ‘God, Velvet!’ His mouth once more claimed hers, moving hungrily against her.
So much for her assertion that this would never happen again! But she didn’t care. As long as Jerard went on touching her, kissing her, she didn’t care about anything else. Not even her baby waiting at home for her in England mattered at this moment.
She offered no resistance as Jerard pushed up the tee-shirt she had worn for travelling; in fact she helped him, slipping her arms out of her bra-straps as he unfastened the clasp. She gasped as his mouth claimed one aroused nipple, his teeth biting erotically, shooting waves of pleasure through her body, from the tips of her toes to her tingling scalp.
That feeling of familiarity washed over her once again, and she acted instinctively, unbuttoning his shirt, her hands going to his back, her nails digging into his skin.
His breath caught in his throat. ‘I always liked that,’ he moaned. ‘Let’s see what else you can remember that I like.’
She was a willing pupil to his teaching, and their caresses became even more intimate as she helped Jerard remove his shirt, her own tee-shirt soon joining the silky material on the carpeted floor, their torsos searing together in heated passion.
The tips of her breasts ached from contact with Jerard’s hair-roughened chest, their legs were entwined as they moved together for even closer contact. Velvet knew that the two of them were going to make love fully, knew it and craved for it.
But the sudden knock on the door took that final commitment out of their hands, and Jerard broke away from her reluctantly.
‘God, no!’ he groaned, his face in her throat.
‘Who can it be?’ she whispered.
‘Dinner,’ he said ruefully, standing up to pull on his shirt.
‘Dinner …?’ she grimaced.
‘Mm,’ he picked up her bra and tee-shirt, handing them to her. ‘I ordered it while you were bathing Vicki. I wish now that I hadn’t bothered.’ His eyes still blazed with desire.
Velvet sat up, hastily pulling on her clothes as the knock was repeated. ‘I—I didn’t realise.’
Reaction was starting to set in, embarrassment, but not shame, washing over her. She had no reason to feel shame, and she didn’t. As Carly had already pointed out, she was free, over twenty-one, and perfectly capable of deciding whether or not she wanted to go to bed with a man. And she did want to go to bed with Jerard.
‘Later, Velvet,’ he correctly read the hunger in her eyes. ‘I don’t welcome this interruption any more than you do,’ his thumb caressed the pulsing swell of her bottom lip. ‘Later,’ he repeated huskily, his word a promise.
Her breathing was shallow, she was still deeply affected by what had just happened between them. ‘I—I’m presentable now,’ she told him softly, pulling the tee-shirt down over her lacy-covered breasts.
‘You’re always presentable, Velvet,’ he murmured throatily. ‘But when you’re naked, then you’re—breathtaking.’
She flushed. ‘The door,’ she reminded him, his reference to her nakedness only seeming to remind her of all she couldn’t remember. Oh, how she wished she could remember loving and being loved by this man, it must have been the most fantastic experience of her life.
No! Loving and being loved by Anthony had been that! She paled as she remembered her husband, the man she had loved since she was nineteen.
‘Velvet?’ Jerard queried sharply.
She looked up at him dazedly, frowning. ‘Yes?’ Her voice was hesitant, bewildered.
‘I—Oh damn!’ he swore as the knock sounded again, walking over angrily to answer it.
It was indeed their dinner, and Velvet had time to regain her composure while the waiter set it out on the dining-room table. She wasn’t free at all, she had a husband and son she owed her loyalty to. She might feel like making love with Jerard, but she couldn’t do it, couldn’t betray Anthony’s memory in that way, or his son that she was bringing up so lovingly.
‘It’s gone, isn’t it?’ Jerard said once they were alone, the waiter having silently left.
She blinked hard. ‘I’m sorry?’ she shook her head in puzzlement. ‘What’s gone?’
He shrugged resignedly. ‘The moment—it’s gone.’
She bit her lip. ‘I—’
‘Don’t bother to explain, Velvet,’ his voice was harsh. ‘Come and eat your food,’ he ordered curtly.
She looked at him pleadingly. ‘Jerard—’
‘Eat!’
‘I’m not hungry,’ she muttered. ‘It isn’t long since I last ate.’
‘It’s over four hours ago, and as I remember you didn’t eat at all. You’ll eat now.’ He attacked his steak as if it had done him some personal harm.
She sat down, picking up her knife and fork. She even managed to raise a piece of steak to her lips, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to put it in her mouth. ‘I can’t!’ Her fork landed back on her plate with a clatter. ‘I just can’t!’ She pushed back her chair and ran into the bedroom Jerard had put her case into earlier, shutting the door behind her to lean weakly back against it.
She was pushed forward as the door jerked open, would have fallen if Jerard’s arm hadn’t come about her waist, pulling her back against him, his face in her hair.
‘I’m not going to force you.’ His breath ruffled her red-gold hair. Velvet licked her dry lips. ‘I—I didn’t think you would.’
‘Didn’t you?’ He sounded amused.
‘No,’ she shook her head.
‘Come back and eat your food.’ He spun her gently round, his hands on her arms. ‘Come on,’ his tone was gently too. ‘When we’ve eaten we can listen to some music, relax a little.’
‘I—’
‘I need you, Velvet.’
She swallowed hard, seeming to stop breathing altogether. ‘You—you need me?’ Again she licked her lips, stopping as she realised by the darkening of his eyes how provocative he found the unconscious movement.
Jerard drew
