The Forbidden Innocent (11 page)

She could see the huge effort it must have cost him to say that—just as she could feel the tension which was making his body so taut. Did he really think that she could just get up and walk away from here—when she had wanted him for so long? ‘Of course I don’t want to go. I want to stay here. With you.’

For a moment he seemed to struggle to contain himself—and then at last he gave a ragged sigh. ‘You are beautiful,’ he whispered, against the spill of her hair. ‘Do you know that? Truly and properly beautiful. Inside and out.’

Yet strangely, the word jarred and Ashley felt a fleeting sense of disappointment as his body moved over hers. She wasn’t ‘beautiful’ at all—
that
was a lie. So
did it follow that everything else he’d said to her was untrue? But there was no time to question him—because a different kind of tension had now entered his body and something of that tension was beginning to flow into her.

Suddenly, she was on fire—every kiss dragging her deeper and deeper into the dark sensuality of this erotic new world. Jack’s world. One where her senses were scrambled and every instinct in her body was crying out for something she didn’t really understand.

But when he thrust into her, she was more than ready for him and the pain was so brief that she barely felt it. And didn’t some darkly primitive emotion revel in the fact that it was Jack who had pierced her and given her that pain—and then replaced it with a pleasure so exquisite that his name was torn from her lips? Jack who had made her change from girl to woman.

‘Jack,’ she cried out as he pulled her down towards a dark, sweet vortex before tossing her out again, helpless on the tide. At first he was gentle with her, his movements slow and seeking as she relaxed into him. And then his movements became harder and faster, his kiss more hungry and intense. She felt like a piece of elastic which was being stretched and stretched—until at last it snapped and she cried out his name. And only when her back began its helpless arch did he begin to shudder within her, his arms tightening as he cradled her, his quickened breath fanning her bare shoulder until gradually he stilled.
I love him,
she thought fiercely as
she clung to him, feeling the moist-satin of his sweat-sheened back.

After a few moments he let her go and rolled onto his back but, to Ashley’s surprise, he didn’t say a word. Thank heavens she hadn’t blurted out how much she cared—because there was nothing coming back from him. In fact, the only thing that Jack had spoken of was desire. She risked a glance and could see him staring up at the ceiling as if he didn’t really see it at all. In the silence of the room, she could sense his sudden disquiet.

Was he regretting what had just happened—and worrying that she would now read far too much into it? Perhaps this was a rite of passage for every woman who became his secretary. Perhaps the words he had spoken to her were the same he used to everyone. She felt a bitter lurch of pain in her heart as she wondered if he had a time-honoured method for removing them from his bed.

As she listened his breathing became steady, until its deep and regular rhythm told her that he had fallen asleep. And despite all her feelings of uncertainty and insecurity, Ashley felt glad. Because Jack needed to rest—and mightn’t sleep dissolve some of the strain which always seemed to lurk around the corners of his eyes?

She stared up at the ceiling, feeling as disorientated as someone who found themselves in a strange city at the dead of night. Did she lie here until he was dead to the world so that she could make her escape? Surely
that was preferable to having what was bound to be an extremely embarrassing conversation if she left it until he woke up. She swallowed. What would she say? Even worse, what would
he
say?

I’m sorry, Ashley—I don’t know what came over me.

I’m sorry, Ashley—but you can no longer work for me.

Could she bear to look into his beloved face and see regret written there? And could she bear to witness the dark serpent of shame which would creep into their lives and sully what was left of their relationship? Gingerly, she began to slide away from him—until a hand closed like a vice around her naked waist and a slumberous deep voice shattered the silence.

‘Where the hell do you think you’re going?’ he questioned softly.

J
ACK’S
question cut into Ashley’s confusion and as his eyelids slowly opened she found herself staring into the jet gleam of his brilliant eyes.

‘I said, where are you going, Ashley?’ he questioned softly. ‘Creeping out of my bed without even a word goodbye? That isn’t exactly a glowing recommendation of my love-making—and not particularly good for a man’s ego, either.’

As if
he
needed anything to bolster his ego! ‘Back.’

‘Back?’ he drawled. ‘Back where?’

Say something reasonable,
she urged herself.
Something which will give you time to work out how to feel comfortable around him after what has happened. And which will put his mind at ease that you aren’t going to start coming over all needy.
Because needy didn’t work. It made people push you away. She’d learnt that lesson as a frightened little four-year-old and she had never forgotten it. ‘Back to the manuscript I’m supposed to be typing.’

‘Really?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t you think that’s taking the work ethic a touch too far?’

‘Not really. It’s still only.’ She glanced at the inexpensive little watch on her wrist, which was the only thing she was still wearing, and gave a little yelp of horror. ‘Oh, my goodness—it’s nearly four o’clock! ‘

‘So what? I’m the boss and what I say goes,’ he said, in a voice of soft mockery. ‘We have as many hours as we want—and so many endless possibilities about how to spend them—and
you’re
just itching to get back to your computer! ‘

‘I’m only trying to be diligent,’ she said. ‘Sometimes a man doesn’t want diligence.’ ‘No?’ Her tongue snaked out to moisten her suddenly bone-dry lips because the way he was looking at her was making her feel boneless and melting. ‘Not even from his secretary?’

‘No. Not even from his secretary. Can’t you think what he might prefer?’ ‘I’m… I’m not sure.’

‘This.’ He kissed her, stirring lazily as he brought her naked body to lie on top of him and her mouth hovering within kissing range. ‘He prefers this.’ Jack flicked his tongue over her lips. God, she tasted good. Sweet and wholesome and yet as sexy as any woman had a right to be. His hand reached down to find her honeyed moistness and he heard her little gasp of pleasure as she squirmed beneath his seeking fingers. ‘Jack!’

‘You are very responsive,’ he murmured approvingly as he felt her writhe against his hand.

‘Am… am I?’ All she knew was that he seemed to set her on fire with every look and every touch and every kiss.

‘Mmm.’ Jack reached for a condom. She was eager and yet acquiescent as he parted her thighs and brought himself deep inside her—revelling in her hot and tight welcome as he began to move. And this time he watched her. This time he
saw
the pleasure which transformed her face into one of mindless rapture—before he too was caught up in its spell.

Afterwards she fell against him, nestling sleepily against his chest. ‘That was… amazing,’ she said shyly.

‘No.
You
are amazing,’ he said softly as he smoothed back the hair which was falling over her face. ‘Though I confess it’s a little strange to see my Ashley looking so wild and so uncontained.’

Her heart missed a beat as she opened her eyes. Did he mean it when he said ‘my’ Ashley like that or was it just a slip of the tongue—a careless statement said in the aftermath of making love?

‘And an Ashley who is uncharacteristically silent,’ he continued, tilting her chin a little—so that there was nowhere to look except at him. ‘Are you having second thoughts about what just happened?’

‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘Are you?’

He paused for a moment—and then an odd light entered his dark eyes. ‘If I stopped to think about it long
enough then I could find a whole list of reasons why it shouldn’t have happened. But it’s been building for weeks now. We both know that.’ He trickled his finger from neck to breast. ‘It was inevitable.’

He made it sound like a storm—a violent and unexpected storm which had now passed—and he hadn’t exactly answered her question, had he? Ashley felt a tremor of foreboding. So was this to be the end of it—a one-off liaison which must now be forgotten?

‘You realise that I know practically nothing about you,’ he said suddenly.

Ashley swallowed. ‘Perhaps… perhaps we should have had
that
conversation a couple of hours ago.’

‘I’m serious, Ashley—don’t be so evasive.’

Yet surely
he
was the one who had made evasion into an art form. Who clammed up whenever she tried to find out anything about his past and blocked any attempts to question him. But he was the boss and she supposed that gave him the right to ask questions—even in a setting like this one. ‘What would you like to know?’ she hedged. ‘You’ve read my CV.’

‘I’m not talking about your qualifications! I want to know more about you. I know your parents are dead but that’s about all. What about brothers and sisters—do you have any?’

Awkwardly, Ashley shifted, wishing that she could just pull away from him and roll to the other side of the rumpled bed—away from the temptation of his body and the questions in his black eyes. Her past was a country she had no wish to revisit and usually she fielded
questions about it with a self-protective zeal and for good reason. People tended to judge you when you’d had an unconventional upbringing. But Jack was the man to whom she had just given her virginity—who had just made her feel things she’d never expected to feel. Wouldn’t it be bizarre to withhold information from him when he was just trying to get to know her better?

‘No, I don’t. I’m an only child,’ she said reluctantly. ‘And my mother died when I was small.’

‘What about your father?’

There was a pause while Ashley considered her options. Jack might seem interested in her past but when it boiled down to it—he was descended from a rich and well-connected family. Wouldn’t he be appalled by the truth behind her circumstances?
But you can’t hide it from him—for there should be no secrets between lovers. And wouldn’t it be better if he knew everything from the outset—so that he can reject you sooner, rather than later?

‘I never knew my father.’ She forced the words out. ‘In fact, I don’t know if my mother knew him either.’

‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’

Hadn’t she always been honest with him? ‘One of my foster mothers used to take great delight in telling me that my mother was a… a slut.’ Ashley swallowed, her fingernails digging into the palms of her clenched hands. ‘And that she slept with men in order to buy drugs.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Are you trying to shock me, Ashley?’

‘No, I’m telling you the plain and unvarnished truth,

Jack—I thought that’s what you wanted. How do I know whether or not it will shock you? You’ve seen more terrible things in your army days than most men would wish to see in a lifetime.’

He gave an odd kind of laugh as he thought how cleverly she had turned the question round and how, unwittingly, she had struck a blow at his conscience. ‘Did someone once teach you the seductive power of truth?’ he questioned, aware that he was skating on very thin ice indeed—but, ruthlessly, he closed his mind to it. Instead he pulled her closer and let her aroused and very feminine scent remove the thoughts which so troubled him.

She shook her head. ‘I wasn’t taught anything of any use.’

‘Oh, yes, you were.’ He took her by the shoulders, his fingers biting into her soft, bare flesh, and his black gaze burned into her. ‘Somewhere along the way you learned how to burrow beneath a man’s skin with quite stunning effectiveness.’

‘Don’t say these things to me, Jack,’ she whispered.

‘Don’t you like compliments?’

‘Only if they’re true.’

‘Oh, they’re true, all right. Every word.’ But he frowned as he heard the suspicion in her voice and thought about what she’d told him. ‘It must have been a tough childhood,’ he observed slowly.

She wondered what it would be like to admit to one of those ‘normal’ households, so beloved of advertisers. Mummy and Daddy and perhaps a sibling, or two.
The shiny car on the drive and the shared family meals around a table. Birthday cakes and Christmas trees and a pet dog who would chew their shoes and make them all laugh with careless indulgence.

And yet some instinct told Ashley that she wouldn’t be lying here if she’d had that type of childhood. Because hadn’t the hardship and loneliness she’d experienced—all the stuff which had damaged her—hadn’t that forged some kind of strange bond between them? Because in ways she couldn’t quite put her finger on, she recognised that Jack was damaged too. Was it just his experience in the army which had made him like that?

‘It was difficult,’ she said carefully.

‘How difficult?’

She bit her lip as the memories came rushing in on a dark tide. ‘Where do I begin? I mean, is there really any point in reliving the past and remembering all the foster parents who shouldn’t have been let near a child? The ones who did it for money or to fill up the empty spaces in their own bad relationships? The ones who.’ Her voice tailed off.

His face darkened. ‘The ones who hit you?’

She shook her head. ‘They didn’t hit me.’

‘Were cruel to you, then, in some other way?’

She remembered the locked cupboard and the sense of imprisonment. The walls closing in on her until she felt as if she couldn’t breathe. The expression of shock on the doctor’s face. The breath caught in her throat as she stared at him. ‘How did you know that?’ she whispered.

‘Instinct, I guess. An instinct which can seek out suffering and can read pain.’ And then he swore very softly. ‘All your life you’ve been taken advantage of,’ he added bitterly. ‘And now I’ve just done exactly the same.’

She shook her head. ‘But you haven’t taken advantage of me, Jack! How could you have done when I wanted it, too? You know I did. There was no force—nor even any persuasion. We were two adults who wanted the same thing.’