The Abby Green Modern Collection

That night at another glittering function, it was like a carbon copy of the previous night. The same people, the same conversations. And yet…what was going on between them was subtly different. Maggie was tucked into Caleb’s side, a possessive arm around her waist. He was including her in conversations, making it very clear she was with him. His woman. She could remember the look he’d given her earlier when she’d emerged from the dressing room in the suite. Her whole body still tingled from it.

At the beauticians she’d been waxed, plucked, buffed. Nothing that he would notice…but she knew. That somehow made it erotic. She berated herself. Indulging herself like this would only end in pain. She knew it. But she couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help the devilish, rogue desire within her that had chosen the dress she had. It was one of the ones the sales girl had picked out, something Maggie would never normally have the nerve to wear. But something she guessed would be suitable.

With her hair piled in a loose knot on top of her head, the black dress was deceptively simple. A cowl neckline at the front didn’t reveal too much but then, behind, it fell away, revealing her whole back. She’d always been self-conscious of her freckles everywhere but somehow now, here with Caleb, with his possessive arm around her, she felt…something close to beautiful for the first time in her life.

Without her realising it, the crowd had dispersed somewhat and Caleb led Maggie out to the terrace. The balmy air drifted around them on a light scented breeze and she breathed in deeply. There was a secluded gazebo at one end and Caleb took her hand, bringing her over.

‘What…what are we doing here?’

Under the trellis roof that had flowers hanging down in a mass of twisting vines and leaves, he turned her to face him. ‘Something I’ve been wanting to do all evening.’ He dipped his head to her ear, making a delicious shiver skate up and down her spine. ‘Your back has been driving me crazy.’

He pulled her even closer and she gasped when she felt the hardness of his arousal pressing into her belly. It called to her, made her damp with anticipation. She was breathless, waiting for the kiss, the embrace which was inevitable. His mouth hovered infuriatingly over her neck, lips barely skimming her skin. She wound her hands up and around his neck, craving an even closer embrace. Not thinking, not capable, just feeling.

Then his hands were on her bare back and a tremor shot through her. And in that moment his mouth covered hers and she was lost. He traced the outline of her lips, before his tongue delved in and met hers in an intoxicating dance. She was helpless but to succumb, matching his thrusts with her own, shyly allowing him to teach her, guide her.

His hands moulded, traced her waist, her spine, the smooth silky skin. Then one hand moved down and down until it rested just over the material of the dress that lay over her buttocks. She drew back, eyes dark and wide. Breath coming in short gasps. Watching her as he did, his hand went under the material, down until he felt the curve of her bottom, sheathed in silk panties. Her hands tightened on his shoulders.

His eyes were on her flushed face; they glittered with intent as he bent his head and took her mouth again with passionate bruising force, just as his hand went beneath the silk and caressed, smoothed, explored the voluptuous curves. Then his hand dipped all the way down, fingers seeking, underneath, all the way until…

Maggie gasped against his lips as his fingers found the moist evidence of her desire. Stroking back and forth, seeking the most sensitive part. When she would have pulled away, he held her to him fast and it was the most exquisite torture. She couldn’t do anything, couldn’t move. He was relentless. And then he was there…at that part…A spasm passed through her in response and still she was held captive. Unable to escape a pleasure that was almost too much. Too intense.

With his head bent, pressing fiery kisses against her neck, her head fell back. One hand held her like a vise against his body and with his other hand he was fast bringing her whole body upwards on a spiral of some devilish, overwhelming sensation, the like of which she’d never experienced. She could feel the subtle rhythm of his hard body as it pressed against her, she knew she’d widened her legs to tacitly give him access and their movements became more and more urgent, she didn’t know what she was seeking, it was something that lay tantalisingly just out of reach and then…suddenly something gripped her that was so devastating…she stopped breathing for a minute.

Slow seconds later, as if she’d been transported to some other place, she slowly returned and felt her whole being throbbing, pulsating in the aftermath of what felt like an earthquake on her senses. As reality trickled back into her fuzzy mind, as Caleb straightened and loosened his hold slightly, she knew with astounding clarity that she’d just had her first orgasm. She looked up at Caleb, knew that she must have a dazed expression on her face and couldn’t even begin to disguise it. She had lost her virginity to her one boyfriend in college, but he’d never ever made her feel anything beyond mild discomfort. This…this, however, was in another league. She heard the murmur of low voices nearby, a tinkle of laughter coming from the ballroom just yards away.

She had come apart in his arms, on little more than the strength of a kiss, had allowed him full access without so much as a murmur of dissent. Without thinking, she just reacted, had to get away. ‘Excuse me…I need to go to the bathroom.’

Caleb let her go and she went, hoping she didn’t look as devastated by what had just happened as she felt.

He watched her go, sitting back on the seat behind him in a sprawl. His own heart rate was just beginning to return to normal and the unsatisfied ache was acute.

He shook his head grimly; he’d only planned on kissing her. Hadn’t planned on the sudden need to maul her senseless. What was wrong with him? The last time he’d caressed a woman so comprehensively in a public place was when he’d been a gauche teenager. And it had been a girl, not a woman. He cursed himself; he wouldn’t be surprised if she had a love bite on her neck.

But she had been so responsive…That subtle touch of feigned innocence was fast pushing him over the edge whenever he came near her. With just his hands on her back! He could still feel the tremor that had run through her, pushing her breasts against him, igniting a fire in his belly…in his loins. And that had intoxicated him beyond the point of reason. She’d been the same that night in London, which he remembered all too well…and yet she’d stopped just when…just when he’d been able to stop. Maybe she was doing it again? Giving him a taste of nirvana, only to bring him to his knees, expose him.

She would not do that to him again. No way. And this time he wouldn’t stop. He knew her response wasn’t fake. He was arrogantly sure of that. She wouldn’t be able to stop herself this time. With a determined lithe push to stand, he was hidden in the shadows for a moment before going in search of Maggie. It was time to claim his prize.

Back in the hotel room, Maggie heard the door click ominously shut behind Caleb. She felt skittish and on edge. She wasn’t ready for this. She needed time to process what had happened, had to be in control of her emotions when she gave herself to him. She was still stunned, shocked by the depth of her response to him in the gazebo. As soon as she’d emerged back into the ballroom she’d caught his eye immediately. She’d stood there, fighting the urge to run in the opposite direction as he’d strode towards her, the people melting away either side of him. Without saying a word, he’d halted in front of her, taken her hand and led her out. Not one word. To anyone. And now here they were, back in the hotel. The huge bed just there, in her field of vision.

Maggie turned to face him, not even knowing what to say, but before she could speak, unaware of the turmoil of her thoughts, he went towards the bathroom, shedding his jacket as he did so.

‘I’m going to have a shower…’

‘Okay…’ Panic gripped her voice, making it sound shrill to her ears. ‘I’ll have one after you.’

He turned at the door, raising one black brow. ‘Unless you want to share?’

‘No…’ she said hastily—too hastily. ‘I’ll wait.’

He shrugged.

Maggie went out to the balcony and paced up and down with arms wrapped around her body. She couldn’t even think coherently. This was happening too fast—way too fast. She was still in pieces after little more than a bout of heavy petting. How would she cope when Caleb…took her completely? Her belly flooded with liquid fire just at the thought and she sat on a chair weakly. She wasn’t the woman of the world that he was used to. She was just plain, simple Maggie Holland. The girl with the red hair and freckles who bruised easily and still had scars from falling off trees when she was small. And other scars that he could never know about. She needed time, space. To fight off the inevitable for just a little longer.

The bathroom door opened. She sprang up. He was finished already? Caleb emerged with an indecently small towel around his waist. Hair wet, sleek against his head. Maggie’s stricken gaze couldn’t escape the wide, broad, muscled chest, a light sprinkling of hair that tapered down to his lean waist. Her eyes skipped over the towel and down over long, long, strong, shapely legs. She gulped. He was shameless under her gaze and indicated the door. ‘Bathroom’s all yours…Don’t be long, Maggie.’

Once inside, she sagged against the door. The mist enveloped her—the heat of his body, the musky scent still in the air. It brought her whole body back into tingling awareness. She had to do something. She couldn’t face her ultimate capitulation tonight. Tomorrow, maybe…but not now, not after that…explosive experience.

She kicked off her shoes and went to the mirror, looking at her reflection. Two bright spots of colour highlighted her cheeks; her eyes were too wide and bright. She ran the bath in a desperate attempt to buy some more time to think.

Finally. After waiting for as long as she thought she could, Maggie cautiously opened the bathroom door. Caleb lay on the bed against the pillows with his eyes closed. She emerged slowly. Maybe he was asleep? His eyes snapped open. No such luck. He came up on one arm, a frown appearing when he noticed that she hadn’t changed out of the dress. Then a gleam of appreciation lit them.

‘Good. I was just fantasising about taking it off you. Come here.’

He thought she’d left it on, on purpose…

Little did he know the terror in her chest—how could he not see it? She moved forward one foot and stopped.

He frowned again. She looked too serious. ‘Maggie…’he said warningly.

‘Caleb. Wait.’ She put up a hand and prayed for courage. ‘I’m not going to sleep with you until I’ve signed the contract.’

He sprang from the bed and Maggie fled back into the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it just as she heard Caleb’s fist make a connection. Her heart hammered against her ribs. The door knob jiggled. She jumped back.

‘Maggie…Open up or, so help me God, I will break this door down.’

Desperation made her voice weak. ‘You said I’d sign a contract guaranteeing that the house would go back into my mother’s name. I want to do that before anything…happens between us.’

‘It’s already happened, sweetheart.’

She burned on the other side of the door. But at least he wasn’t threatening to break it down any more, although he did sound as though he wanted to throttle her.

‘Maggie, come out…’

‘No way.’

She could hear a muffled oath.

‘Not unless you promise not to touch me.’

There was a very long silence. So long that Maggie was afraid he’d left without telling her and now she’d be stuck in the bathroom all night. Then she heard a very low, ‘Fine.’

She turned the lock and opened the door. She was relieved when she saw Caleb on the other side of the room in his trousers, arms folded across his chest. His face like thunder. She quivered inwardly but strove for confidence on the outside.

‘Do you want to tell me what this is all about?’ he asked tightly.

‘I want to sign that contract. Once I know for sure you’re going to keep your word, then you can…have…make me yours.’ Those words alone sent a spiral of heat through her body.

He came a little closer. She backed away slightly. ‘If I remember correctly, I made no such assurance; the agreement was that you would move in, become my mistress and then…I would sign the house back to your mother.’