The Terms of Their Affair Read online

  He pushed up on one elbow and stared at her with such intensity that she began to wonder if she’d gone too far. Indeed, she had, and Caradoc could feel himself going on the attack regardless of the fact that Finn had several good points. “You’re unspeakably naïve if you actually doubt there’s such a creature as I’m describing.”

  “Oh, I’m sure there are,” she responded archly, pulling her shirt down angrily. “I’m not saying there aren’t some truly amoral women out there; women whose priorities are completely out of whack. I’m just saying that you’re the male equivalent. You judge these women and yet you sleep with them. Doesn’t sex mean anything to you?”

  Caradoc experienced an odd lurching sensation. He had been called every name under the sun, but something in the way Finn said it with such disappointment didn’t sit well with him. “Sex is sex.”

  He’d said that to her before, and she’d certainly thought he felt that way the first night he’d propositioned her. Hadn’t she also thought that she would regret this? “Yeah, well,” she said with a thudding heart and an aching throat. “It doesn’t have to be.”

  “No?” His question was dangerously soft. “What is it like for you, Finn?”

  Oh, she was tempted to storm out of the room. She wanted to shout at him and then walk brusquely across the floor and pull the door shut behind her with a satisfying slam. But Finn’s heart had always been her downfall. It was too big, and too soft.

  And Caradoc Moore had just buried his father.

  Whatever else she felt, there was sympathy too.

  That, and that alone, kept her in his room. But she pulled her jeans on before going near him again. When she sat down on the edge of the bed, it was with a much calmer appearance than she was feeling.

  “I’m the opposite of you,” she said with a quiet strength. “I’ve only slept with three men. All of them I loved. Or I thought I loved.” Her smile was beautiful.

  “And me,” he added stonily.

  “Yes. But you’re different for me, too.”

  He didn’t want to analyse why that quick explanation caused him to feel anger. “So you are a romantic?”

  She pulled a thoughtful face. “You are the one who lives in a strangely rarefied world. The way I am is, I think, the way most women are. Most men, too. I think for most people, sex is about more than just how amazing one body can make another feel. That’s not special, Caradoc. That’s biology.”

  “That’s boring,” he clarified, without allowing her words to sink in.

  “No, it isn’t, trust me. For all that you are the most … well …” she cleared her throat. “I obviously love being with you.” Her cheeks flushed and she looked away. “You can make me feel like no one ever has.” She forced herself to finish the admission. “But…”

  “But?” He pushed, when she went strangely silent.

  She shrugged. “It’s a very hollow way to live.” She put a hand on his chest. “Not for me, because I know this is temporary. I’ve never met anyone who makes me feel like this. Like you said, sex is sex, and it never has been for me. Until I met you, I never would have thought I’d do something like this.”

  “Like what?”

  “Sleep with a guy I just met.”

  “You’ve never had a one night stand,” he said, as though she were some kind of strange creature.

  “I’ve told you that. Three guys. All boyfriends.”

  “That’s not my thing,” he said with a shrug.

  “I gathered as much.” She stood up again, pleased that she wasn’t leaving him in the grip of temper she’d felt only minutes earlier. “I’m going to go back to my room now.”

  “Are you?” He grabbed her wrist and padded his finger over the sensitive flesh. “What if I asked you to stay?”

  She leaned down and pressed a kiss against his forehead. “I’d say no.”

  No. The word was a frustrating end to an even more frustrating conversation. “Why?” He asked the question when she was halfway out the door.

  Finn’s smile was mesmerising. “Because I’ve been coming here every night since the first night we arrived, and honestly? I’m tired, Caradoc. It’s another way I’m just completely not like you. I can’t function on this amount of sleep. I’m exhausted. I’m going to my own room, and I am going to pass out for the next six hours.”

  He nodded, and watched her go, but his dissatisfaction was a force within him. If Seraphina was sleeping, then he certainly wasn’t. Her accusations and disapproval swirled through his mind, and for the first time in his life, Caradoc worried, albeit briefly, that he had behaved in a way that wasn’t right. That wasn’t suitable.

  It was only a small thought; and he dismissed it easily enough.

  Caradoc Moore wasn’t yet ready to see his own faults.

  Somewhere in the early hours of the morning, having shut his eyes for a grand total of one hour, Caradoc stirred and reached for Finn. It was the first time he realised that he had become used to her. How long had it been? Only a few nights. Five, he counted back. Five nights, and she was already the first thought on his mind when he stirred.

  It brought a frown to his face, for she was nowhere in sight nor reach, and he wanted her with a whole new level of desire.

  He didn’t hesitate in stepping out of bed and pulling on a pair of pants and a loose black shirt. He moved swiftly through the ancient home, towards the room he now knew she’d been allotted.

  Caradoc usually went to sleep thinking about work, and woke up in the same mindset. His singular devotion to his career had enabled his dramatic success.

  To be similarly obsessed by a woman was a dangerous new development, but one he wasn’t willing to walk away from. Though he knew he ought to. Finn was a distraction; and that’s what he’d wanted. A woman desirable enough to make him feel something other than the dark emotions that Gower’s death had brought out in him.

  But she’d been too good at what he’d needed. She’d gone from someone very beautiful whom he found sexy and attractive, to a woman he couldn’t get out of his head. He stopped walking outside of her door, and his breathing was shallow, his eyes thoughtful.

  He was due to fly back to New York in a week, and even that date should have been pushed closer. He was at a crucial point with his research, and though his teams were adequate, there was no substitute for his laser-like attention.

  But the thought of closing the door on Finn filled him with an anger unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He didn’t want to do that yet. Oh, he’d get her out of his system, and soon, he suspected. But until he did, what harm was there in keeping her where she belonged – in his bed?

  Isn’t that what she accused you of? A voice in his head demanded. But it was a small voice – only the tiniest part of him that managed to care about other people and what they needed.

  Oh, she had said that about him. He used women for sex, but mostly, those women used him too. That was the way of his world.

  And Finn?

  She didn’t fit in his world.

  So why would she do it? Why would she fall in with the plan he was devising?

  His smile was laced with arrogant certainty.

  Because he’d make it impossible for her to refuse.

  Her skin was warm beneath his mouth. He didn’t dare wake her slowly. He wanted her to burst into the room with awareness and need. His tongue glided along the folds of her beautiful womanhood, and she writhed, still asleep, but in a state of erotic awareness. She liked him to slide upwards, he knew that much, and his tongue was unrelenting. He was demanding her release, and he was demanding her allegiance.

  His fingers dug into her thighs, holding her legs wide for him, creating access to her beautiful self. And he felt the moment she woke and murmured, “Caradoc…”

  He would have smiled if he wasn’t feeling so determined. Her departure the night before had shaken him.

  She began to moan as he lashed her, his purpose obvious. She was reaching for his hair, her fingers digging into
his thickness and her lips were murmuring over and over again. She was beautiful and she was his.

  “What are you doing to me?” She moaned, tilting her pelvis to invite him deeper. He didn’t need more encouragement. He loved kissing her there; it made him feel that she was absolutely in his thrall. She jerked her legs but his fingers dug in more deeply, reminding her that this was his game. He was in charge.

  “Do I need to tie your arms again?” He asked silkily and she shook her head, though she had found being restrained by him to be the most erotic thing in her life.

  “Another time,” he said softly, and now he lifted his head so that he could move a finger inside of her. His mouth didn’t go far though, he kissed the sensitive flesh at the top of her thighs while his hands worshipped her being.

  Finn was incandescent with need. She writhed beneath him and her lips were begging him again and again. “Yes,” he agreed gently. “I want that too. I have wanted you all night, Seraphina; I didn’t sleep like you, as an angel, after you left.”

  “Please,” was all she was capable of responding, and her legs were lifting and trying to pull him lower. Not his head, not his body, his arousal. She wanted to feel him deep within her. She needed him to claim her.

  “Soon,” he promised, as his mouth came crashing down to her breasts. This was a kiss of torture, his teeth nipped her breasts just hard enough for her to cry out, but it wasn’t from pain so much as exquisite, over-whelming pleasure.

  “Please,” she whispered again, and her fingers dug into his back. He stepped out of his pants easily, regretting the necessity of pulling on protection. But even with Finn he wouldn’t take risks.

  His possession of her was swift but Finn orgasmed immediately. She had already been on the brink of destruction, and this swift, powerful ownership made her crumble. She bit into his shoulder to stop herself from screaming in a voice that would surely wake everyone who slept in the servants’ quarters, despite the fact they were far from her room.

  Caradoc moved with her; he had craved her all night and despite his usual stamina, he found himself exploding. “God, Finn,” he groaned, holding her to him while his breathing returning to normal. “You are addictive.”

  When her pulse had slowed, and her heart had begun to beat as usual, she smiled up at him. “Good morning.”

  He looked at her thoughtfully. “Good morning,” he was surprised to hear the softness in his voice. “Did you sleep well?”

  She nodded.

  “I’m glad.” He kissed the tip of her nose, wondering at the odd sensation in his gut. “Because I would like to go back to London today.”

  “To London?” She blinked in surprise. “Today?” Her heart fell at this swift change in plans. “Whatever for?”

  He looked at her with amusement. “Because I have work to do, and I just can’t do it from here.”

  “But you can from London?” She said, trying to ignore the suffocating feeling in her chest.

  “No. From London I need to fly to New York.”

  “Oh.” She nodded, but her mouth was dry and her tummy felt suddenly completely empty.

  “It’s where I live.” The words were softly chiding.

  “I know that.” She shifted a little. “I’d rather not have this conversation while you’re still …”

  “Inside you?” He teased, loving how easily she flushed.

  She worked for him. She wasn’t his lover. She wasn’t his mistress. She wasn’t his girlfriend, though she’d felt a bit like a mix of all three for a week.

  She was his employee. Not even! She worked for an agency that he’d employed temporarily.

  The end of their relationship had been as inevitable as winter’s chill. And they hadn’t had a relationship! They’d had sex. A lot of sex.

  “I can leave whenever you’re ready.”

  “Can you now?” He said with a gruff tone to his voice.

  “Of course. That’s my job.”

  “Yeah. About your job.” He propped his head onto his hand, looking down at her. “Is it the kind of job that has benefits?”

  “Benefits?” She pulled a strange face. She hoped against hope he wasn’t enquiring as to her financial standing. “Why?”

  If he offered her money or gifts, she would wither.

  “I want you to come with me.”

  “To come with you?” She pushed up beside him, so that she could look at him properly. “What are you saying?”

  He put a finger to her lips. “I’m not changing what I want; nor what I can offer. I like doing this with you. You’re the first woman I’ve had more than a passing interest in. Why don’t you come to New York for a week? Think of it as a holiday.”

  Her heart turned over in her chest. Another week. A trip to New York. Caradoc.

  “Why?”

  “Because you want to.”

  She looked at him with consternation. “Do you want me to?”

  He laughed. “I’m asking, aren’t I?”

  What was Finn looking for? A declaration of love? From this man?

  “Look, I’m used to making snap decisions. I have always lived with absolute faith in my instincts. In business and in my personal life. I don’t hesitate, and I don’t doubt. I simply take what I want, and trust the rest will fall in line. Why don’t you give it a try? Just this once.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “I told you, it’s hardly out of the way at all.”

  Though Caradoc smiled, Finn could sense his impatience. It seemed to burst out of his every movement.

  “I won’t be long,” she promised, stepping out of the car with her own natural grace.

  To her surprise, Caradoc joined her, stretching his long arms over his head and then falling into step beside her. “Which one’s yours?”

  She nodded to the middle building, halfway down the street. As she did so, she tried to see it through his eyes. The east London street wasn’t particularly pretty, but Finn had chosen it for convenience and affordability. It was safe; at least she felt safe.

  It took a good shrug of her shoulder to heave the heavy front door inwards, and then she took the steps two at a time, up to the third floor.

  “Hey! Anyone home?” She called as she pushed the apartment open. It smelled faintly of caramel and popcorn. “Movie night,” she explained, reaching for the pile of unopened letters on the hallstand. She scanned through them with only half a mind on the job.

  “Movie night?” He prompted, casually surveying the lounge area. It was far more homely and dishevelled than he’d expected.

  “Yeah. We try to do it once a week. Cliff makes this sticky popcorn. It’s to die for.” She saw the way his eyes were taking in every detail of the lounge and she shrugged her shoulders. “Usually we’re a lot neater than this. Actually, I’m the neat one. So when I’m away on assignment, the cleanliness takes a bit of a dive.” She waved her hand towards the sofas. “Take a seat wherever you can find one. I’ll just be a minute.”

  Finn walked into her own bedroom with a weird fluttering of her heart. The last time she’d been in here, she’d had no idea that she was about to meet Caradoc Moore, and that life as she knew it would shift into a strange hyper-reality.

  Her hands moved deftly through her wardrobe. Her taste in clothes was excellent. Though her budget was stretched, she had a gift for picking out a piece of couture in the middle of a thrift shop rack. Pride moved her hands to some of her nicest outfits, and she folded them into a small duffel bag. It took her less than five minutes. The rest of her time was spent scouring her bookshelf. Finally, she found what she was looking for.

  She cradled the two titles to her chest and hooked the bag over her shoulder.

  “Almost ready,” she smiled at Caradoc, her heart racing at the sight of him here, in her apartment. He was too gorgeous, and he seemed to exude light everywhere he stood.

  When she emerged, he was staring at a picture on the wall. It was of her and Cliff, taken back when they’d first started living together. In f
act, it was their housewarming party, if her memory was correct.

  Finn had been wearing an enormous pair of over-sized pink glasses, and her cherry hair had been teased into a rather enviable tribute to the best of the eighties. Cliff had worn a glittering vest and gelled his hair into a Mohawk.

  Finn lifted a pen from the counter. Connie, can you please post these? She transcribed the address for Bagleyhurst onto the same page and then tore off another piece of notepaper.

  Dear Maddie, As promised, the set of books I told you about. I hope you love them as much as I always have… email and tell me. She tapped the pen against the tabletop in a manner that drew Caradoc’s attention. She was bent over, her hair forming a curtain around her beautiful face. And it was beautiful. So was she. Even in the midst of this perfectly ordinary apartment, she shone. He ached to touch her, to feel her skin beneath his fingers.

  The only thing that eclipsed the impulse was the overriding need to take her with him. He wanted to see her in his apartment, surrounded by his life. He wanted to overwhelm her with him. The essence of who he was.

  Why? He couldn’t have said.

  “What are those?” He asked, coming to stand across from her. His eyes were rich with the same flicker of attraction that always set her pulse racing.

  “Oh,” she smiled brightly. “A couple of things I told Maddie I’d send.”

  “My half-sister? You really don’t have to bother.”

  Finn folded the paper and slipped it into the front cover of The Chronicles of Narnia.

  “I want to bother,” she insisted with that quiet firmness she had. “I used to read these cover to cover as a child. How I loved them.” She smiled across at him. “Maddie will too.”

  Caradoc studied her with an intensity that made her heart pause almost to a standstill. “I still don’t understand why you’re taking the effort.”

  Now it was Finn’s turn to stare into his soul and try to understand. “Your sister is grieving. She and I became friends, of sorts. And then I deserted her. I at least want to do what I said I would, and send her this book.”