Taming The Notorious Billionaire (HQR Presents) Read online

  He was waiting outside for her when she came through from collecting her thick woollen coat, pulling the tie-belt tightly about her waist as she looked up and met his gaze. During their few minutes apart she hadn’t liked to allow herself the time to think, hadn’t wanted to, for once just wanted to enjoy the moment, of being with someone who knew her so totally. He held out his arms to her now and she didn’t hesitate about moving into them, her head bent back as she raised her mouth for his kiss, receiving no gentle exploration to her trusting gesture, swept away on a tide of passion so strong it equalled the force of the wind that whipped her hair about their faces, touching the hardness of Rick’s cheeks as if in a caress.

  They didn’t speak as they drew apart, turning as if by tacit agreement to walk towards the cove, Keilly snuggled against the warmth of his coat as his arm remained possessively about her shoulders.

  She felt warmed, protected, braving a glance at the enigmatic man who made her feel that way. He walked strong and proud, his head into the wind, as if he too enjoyed challenging the elements—although unlike her, he seemed confident he could win!

  ‘You’re right,’ she broke the silence between them as they stood at the top of the cliff looking down, the white surf of the wind-tossed sea crashing against the sand. ‘It doesn’t tickle,’ she added almost shyly, his facial hair feeling softer than she had imagined, not rough at all.

  Rick smiled at her with complete accord, moving off again, taking her down the moonlit pathway to the beach below. It wasn’t windy against the cliffs in the shelter of the cove, a strange stillness all around them.

  Once again Keilly felt compelled to raise her face to him, her lips parted to the sensual assault of his, her arms clasped about his neck as she stood on tiptoe, held fast against him by the strong arms he wrapped so possessively about her slender body.

  She felt herself lowered lightly to stand on the ground as his mouth travelled across her cheek to her throat, her arms against his shirt beneath his jacket, her head thrown back as he released the top two buttons to her dress, exposing the curve of her breasts beneath the black lacy bra, his lips moving across their exposed fullness before capturing hers once again.

  This time he kissed her deeply, intimately, the smoothness of his tongue entering her mouth to run lightly along the edge of her inner lips, plunging deeper as she groaned her surrender, the tautness of his thighs so hard against hers heady to her already aroused senses.

  ‘We can’t make love here!’ he groaned as he bit into her earlobe, tracing the gentle curve with his tongue.

  ‘No,’ she agreed, his chest bared to her questing hands and lips.

  ‘The sand is probably as damp as hell,’ he muttered between fevered kisses on her bared shoulders.

  ‘Yes,’ she said again, gasping slightly as he bit into her tender flesh, hearing his groan of satisfaction seconds later as her tongue sought and found the male nipple, feeling it harden beneath her caresses.

  With the minimum of movement he had thrown off his sheepskin jacket and was lowering her down on to it, smoothing aside the unbuttoned front of her dress, releasing the fastening of her bra to bare her breasts to his avid gaze.

  The sky could have fallen in on them at that moment and neither of them would have cared, Keilly arching up as his mouth claimed moist possession of one rosy-tipped breast, teeth closing about the nipple to bite down gently as ecstasy flooded her lower limbs, a slow warmth invading her thighs, the pleasure ten-fold as his hand claimed the other breast, his thumb moving roughly across the tip.

  Both were oblivious to the storm rolling in off the sea, lost in a tempest of their own making, moist lips claiming other welcoming lips, hands avidly searching the pleasure spots of their bodies.

  Rick’s hand was on her knee now, travelling slowly up her thigh, closing possessively over the delicious mound that lay beneath black lacy panties, the warmth increasing in Keilly as he slowly caressed her there, his hand moving surely beneath the lace to the waiting flesh below.

  The storm of their making may have been strong, but the storm above them wasn’t to be denied any longer, huge drops of rain falling coldly on their heated flesh, Rick’s shirt soaked and clinging to his back within seconds as he lay across her. Even so he was loath to relinquish her mouth, leaving her with a frustrated groan, quickly buttoning her dress for her before pulling her coat warmly about her.

  ‘Your coat—’

  ‘I’ll see to that in a minute,’ he dismissed, his hair looking as black as her own now that it was wet. ‘Keilly,’ his hands framed her face, seemingly oblivious to the rain that was fast drenching them both. ‘No matter how much I wanted you just now I wouldn’t have taken you here,’ his gaze held hers steadily. ‘Making love on a beach, fumbling about in the dark as if we’re guilty of something, it isn’t how I want our first time together to be.’ His head bent and he kissed her slowly, lingeringly. ‘I’m going to give you champagne and roses when I make love to you. And a bed,’ he added meaningly.

  She was warmed by the sincerity of his words, knew that the rain, the frantic haste to straighten their clothes, had dampened things in more ways than one. Rick taking the time—and getting waterlogged into the bargain!—to reassure her of his feelings made everything seem good again.

  ‘A bed can be made of many things, Rick,’ she sat up to assist him with his coat, although it was much too late to prevent him being soaked to the skin. ‘Down or sand, the important thing is who you share it with.’

  He smiled, his eyes a deep warm blue. ‘My untamed witch!’ He bent to kiss her with lingering tenderness, his gaze intent for long breathless seconds before he quickly stood up, pulling her lightly to her feet. ‘Are there any caves along here where we can wait until the rain stops?’ He narrowed his eyes along the cliff face.

  ‘No caves,’ she took his hand and began to run. ‘But there’s an overhanging rock where we can take shelter.’

  They reached the rock within minutes, huddling close together to avoid the worst of the rain.

  As they stood there waiting for the onslaught to ease, reaction began to set in for Keilly. It was inevitable that it should, in all of her twenty-two years she could never remember behaving this wantonly before, and with a virtual stranger. She had been out with quite a few men, and several of them would have liked the relationship to progress further than the goodnight kisses she allowed them, but always in the past she had held out, knowing that most of them were just out for another conquest, someone they could tell their friends about afterwards.

  But Rick was much older than any of the other men she had dated, was surely past the stage in his life where he needed to boast about physical conquests in order to feel good. And she believed him when he said he hadn’t intended making love to her on the beach, knew that no matter how aroused he had been he had also been completely in control, that he had had no intention of making their lovemaking into something childish and illicit.

  ‘I won’t come to your room tonight,’ she murmured against the dampness of his coat. ‘I know that.’

  ‘And you aren’t coming to mine either!’

  ‘No. Keilly,’ he raised her face gently with his hand. ‘I told you, I’m coming back, And I meant it.’

  Happiness glowed in the darkness of her eyes. ‘When?’

  ‘I’m not sure yet—I will be back, Keilly,’ he insisted as disappointment clouded her face. ‘Now that I’ve found you I’ll let no other man tame you but me!’ His arms tightened painfully. ‘All that wildness and fire is going to be for me,’ he ground out fiercely.

  She didn’t know if she were relieved or disappointed when it at last stopped raining ten minutes later, relieved because they could at last go and get out of these wet clothes, disappointed because she didn’t want this time with Rick to end.

  He seemed to share her reluctance, for all that they were both wet and cold their walk back to the hotel was slow, their arms wrapped about each other hindering their speed even more. And neither of
them minded in the least, stopping outside the hotel to kiss once more.

  ‘I was going to organise a search-party,’ her uncle Bill sighed his relief as they entered the hotel, a small wiry man with sandy-grey hair and twinkling blue eyes. ‘You had better go upstairs and shower, Keilly, before you catch pneumonia.’

  ‘She doesn’t even catch cold,’ Rick murmured, his gaze still locked on her flushed cheeks.

  ‘That’s true,’ her uncle nodded. ‘By the way, there was a telephone call for you while you were out, Mr Richards.’

  Keilly felt the way Rick suddenly stiffened with tension, looking up at him enquiringly.

  ‘For me?’ he frowned. ‘Are you sure?’

  Her uncle smiled. ‘Well you are our only guest, and the lady was quite clear about the name. She left a message for you here somewhere,’ he looked through the papers on the desk. ‘"Call Barbie”,’ he read. ‘Urgent, she said it was,’ he frowned.

  ‘Thanks,’ Rick nodded abstractedly. ‘I’ll call her as soon as I’ve changed.’

  Keily could still sense his tension as he held on tightly to her hand. ‘Anything wrong, Rick?’ she prompted softly.

  ‘No,’ he shook his head. ‘Barbie—sometimes finds work for me,’ he explained abruptly. ‘We had both better do as your uncle suggested and take a shower.’

  ‘Separately, I hope,’ her Uncle Bill put in dryly.

  Keilly’s indignant gasp was drowned out by the men’s shared laughter, and with a fierce glare at both of them she walked off to take her shower—alone! Really, she couldn’t imagine what had come over her uncle for him to make such a personal remark.

  One look in the mirror once she reached her bedroom on the top floor showed her exactly why he had done it. Despite the wet slickness of her hair, slightly smudged make-up, and limp clothing, it was possible to see she had been thoroughly kissed, and by an expert too if the glow in her eyes was anything to go by.

  ‘Keilly?’ A knock sounded on the door to accompany the soft calling of her name. ‘Keilly, I have to talk to you.’

  Rick! ‘I meant what I said earlier,’ she spoke to him through the thickness of the door.

  ‘I know, darling,’ he sounded amused. ‘But I have to return to London tonight, and I—’

  ‘Tonight?’ she had the door open before he could even finish what he was saying. ‘Tonight, Rick?’ she groaned her, disappointment, uncaring that she was revealing too much of her feelings; she had thought they had until tomorrow morning at least.

  He was still as wet as she was, although his shorter hair was drying quicker than hers. ‘I decided to call Barbie right away, and—I have a job to do back in London,’ he shrugged. ‘I’ll be leaving as soon as I’ve changed and packed.’

  She couldn’t even manage a smile. ‘Barbie is—just a friend?’

  He smiled gently, pulling her into his arms. ‘Just a friend—my little witch.’ He sobered suddenly. ‘I don’t want to go now, but I have to. You do believe I’ll come back?’

  At the moment she wanted to believe anything he told her, nodding before she found her mouth claimed by his, kissing him back as if she never wanted him to stop.

  They were both breathing hard by the time they pulled apart, Rick resting his forehead momentarily on hers before moving away from her completely. ‘I’d better go—or I won’t want to,’ he added ruefully. ‘I’ll call you, okay?’ He touched her cheek with gentle fingertips.

  She swallowed hard. ‘Okay.’

  With one last rakish grin he was gone, leaving Keilly wondering if she had imagined it all, if Rick Richards had just been a wonderful dream. But the tingle all over her body told her he couldn’t have been, and when she undressed the slight redness to her breasts where his beard had scraped her more tender skin more than convinced her that he had been real.

  But would he really come back or had she just been an interlude to him? Worse still, would she find a story about herself emblazoned across some newspaper in the next few days, Rick Richards’ personal—very personal, interview with the woman who had scorned at Rod Bartlett?

  Oh God, Rod Bartlett! She had forgotten about him the last couple of hours. There was a possibility—even if only a very remote one—that Rod Bartlett could come back here. How was Kathy going to react to that?

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘I’LL have to leave town! I’ll have to emigrate,’ her cousin and closest friend groaned. ‘Oh, Keilly, what shall I do?’ she wailed.

  She didn’t have an answer for her, felt too awful herself to be able to tackle anyone else’s problems, even Kathy’s. In payment for her over-confidence about how healthy she was she had been in bed with the flu the last two days since Rick’s departure! She had woken the following morning with a throat that felt like sandpaper, and a head that ached so much it felt as if it were about to split open, the coughing and sneezing coming later, along with the hot flushes and cold chills.

  Kathy had called to see her this afternoon, although Keilly still felt far from up to seeing visitors, but knowing she would have to tell her cousin about Rod Bartlett’s proposed visit. As she had known she would be, Kathy was almost hysterical at the thought of it.

  ‘He may not come,’ she blew her nose noisily, armed with her second box of tissues in as many days, her nose a bright unattractive red. ‘Rick only said it was a possibility.’

  Kathy still looked worried, her beautiful face marred by the deep frown to her brow. Her hair was the colour of golden sunlight, long and glowing just past her shoulders, her figure tall and willowy, her choice of clothes always impeccable, the cream tailored suit and rust coloured blouse with its tied-bow neckline suiting her perfectly, making the brown of her eyes look like deep sherry. Kathy was as beautiful inside as she was out, and Keilly had loved her as a sister from the moment she had come to live here. She wished there was something she could do to help her cousin now, but there wasn’t.

  ‘Did this Rick talk as if he really knew?’ Kathy chewed on her bottom lip, uncaring that she removed the dark orange lip-gloss in the process.

  She shrugged. ‘He seemed to have contacts in the right places.’ She had kept her mind clear of thoughts of Rick, not allowing herself to even think about him and the way she had behaved with him on the beach. She hadn’t expected him to telephone her immediately he got to London, but this was the third day after his departure and still he hadn’t called. But at least she had been reassured by the fact that no story appeared about her in the newspapers. If that could be reassuring. She still doubted that she would ever see him again—and that was what she didn’t want to think of. ‘And he knew the woman who did the original Rod Bartlett interview.’ She had no doubt that Rick knew a lot of women, with his easy charm and ability to make the woman he happened to be with feel like someone special in his life he was sure to!

  She had thought a lot of her own response to him, and she was no nearer to fully understanding her reaction to him. Oh she knew her fiery response had been the result of an experienced lover, she just didn’t understand why it had happened with Rick, a complete stranger until that night. Other men she had been out with in the past had shown the same physical experience, but always with them she had been able to say no. Her refusal not to let their relationship go any further had only been a gesture on her part, they both knew he had been the one to decide they shouldn’t make love. That was what worried her. She wanted Rick to come back, and yet she feared what might happen if he did, feared her own fate could be that of her mother’s.

  Kathy gave a worried sigh. ‘What will I do if Rod does come back here?’ she frowned. ‘How will I face him?’

  Her eyes widened indignantly. ‘I would have thought it would be the other way round,’ she said archly. ‘He was the one who seduced you, remember?’

  ‘Well of course,’ her cousin dismissed shortly. ‘But that doesn’t make it any less embarrassing for me.’

  Keilly could understand that, could still remember Kathy’s distress on her wedding morning six years
ago. She had been her cousin’s only bridesmaid, had been helping Kathy get out the snowy white dress she was to wear that afternoon when the other girl had suddenly burst into tears.

  ‘It’s no good,’ she cried. ‘I can’t go through with it.’

  Keilly had held her consolingly, smiling her understanding with this sudden attack of nerves. ‘It’s all right, love,’ she soothed. ‘All brides feel like this.’

  ‘No, they don’t,’ Kathy wailed. ‘Oh God, I wish I were dead!’

  ‘Kathy!’

  ‘Well I do,’ her cousin stood up to move restlessly about the room, ‘I love Peter so much, and I—I have no right to marry him.’

  ‘Of course you do—’

  ‘No, I don’t,’ Kathy shook her head, her hands clenched tightly in front of her. ‘I have no right to wear white today either.’

  Sixteen-year-old Keilly had frowned her puzzlement. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You can’t be that innocent!’ Kathy snapped. ‘It’s usually only virgins that wear white, so it must be obvious that I’m not one!’

  Keilly stared at her in stunned disbelief. The two girls had been the best of friends for the last nine years, had confided everything in each other, and never once had Kathy said anything like this before. ‘You and Peter—’

  ‘No, not Peter and me,’ her cousin groaned her unhappiness. ‘Do you think I would be in this state if it were Peter who had been my lover?’

  Keilly paled. ‘Someone else…?’

  ‘Yes,’ Kathy sat down heavily.

  She swallowed hard, finding it difficult to take all this in. ‘But you and Peter have been going out together for years, when could you have—When you were at college in London!’ she suddenly realised. ‘Is that when it happened, Kathy?’

  ‘Yes,’ her cousin groaned, her eyes shadowed with pain. ‘He was so good looking, so—so fascinating. All the girls were after him,’ she revealed shakily. ‘I could hardly believe it when he singled me out for his attention.’