Her Man with Iceberg Eyes (17 page)

And he did. Slowly, gently, teasingly. His
lips brushed over hers in taunting caresses, lifting, returning.
Kate burned for more, yet wanted the wash of tempting sensation to
last and last. No man had ever turned her on so fast or so surely.
She’d die now if he stopped. She drew in a quick quivering breath
as he trailed his fingers down her neck and undid the top button of
her cardigan.

He nipped and nuzzled, strengthening his kiss
as she responded with tiny moans and gasps. The second button
slipped free, then more. His tongue stroked along the edge of her
sensitised top lip as his fingers glided across her breast. She
shuddered with the blissful slippery promises he offered. The
confusion and uncertainty slid away. There was only now—and she was
alight and alive under his hands.

She’d never felt so desired, so claimed.
Matthew had made it clear he wanted her, would enjoy her, and would
provide unlimited enjoyment in return. She had no doubts he’d
deliver on his promise.

Desperate to touch his skin, she curled her
fingers around his neck and threaded them into his hair, but it was
nowhere near enough. She ran her hands over his hard chest, lower,
lower, until her fingers made contact with the waistband of his
jeans. He breathed in sharply. But no—if he was making her wait,
she’d play the same game. She burrowed up under his sweatshirt,
sliding her hands around his back and pulling him close. Hot,
smooth, supple. Her fingers kneaded his dense muscles, and she
scraped her nails along his spine, pushing and clawing as their
lips and tongues danced in ever-increasing passion.

Kate gasped as Matthew tipped her backward
along the seat, folded the fronts of her cardigan aside, and
dropped to his knees beside her. She smiled dreamily as he bent to
sprinkle small kisses over the tops of her breasts.

He drew back. “Need that T-shirt off. Up you
get.” And he pulled her upright again, slid her out of the
cardigan, and began to peel her out of her tee. He smiled when he
uncovered her barely decent black and red bra. “This again,” he
murmured, no doubt remembering her caught up in her jersey,
embarrassed, and on display.

“All I have with me.”

“Not complaining in the least,” he said,
laying her down again, stroking where he’d kissed her, advancing
slowly toward the lacy edge, and finally tucking the cups down.

Kate drew a deep breath of anticipation as he
hovered above one nipple, holding her eyes with his. He laughed in
triumph as she finally growled and pushed herself up to him. Then
he took her between his teeth, worrying at the beaded peak until
she just had to have more. She grabbed his head and pulled him
close, her body tingling white-hot with wanting as he sucked and
licked and nipped.

Slowly he released her, and looked down into
her eyes again. “You smell like flowers,” he murmured. He lowered
his nose to her skin and inhaled, then turned his cheek and
smoothed his face down over one breast, into the valley between,
and up again until his lips captured her other nipple. He gave it a
little nip—and his mobile intruded with a polite trill.

“No...” she groaned. “Horrible timing. Ignore
it.”

Cursing, he rummaged for it in his discarded
jacket, dividing his attention between the caller’s name on the
little screen and Kate’s breast.

“Bob,” he said pleasantly, blowing cool air
over her and making her tighten even further.

She growled, and he smiled. But his attention
was slowly diverted. Kate covered herself up, furiously
disappointed that he’d desert her for the phone, and trying not to
let it show.

He concluded the call and shot her a wry
grin. “To be continued,” he said. “See what he’s left us for lunch.
We have to get back to Queenstown in a hurry.”

Kate parted her lips to object, and he
nodded. “Yeah—not fair at all—but there was heavy weather expected
through here tonight, and the front’s coming in faster than they
calculated. We need to get the plane out well before the storm
hits.”

She gave a shivering sigh. Her body had not
switched off after being so skilfully aroused. “You had me half way
there.”

“You had me
more
than half way there
in that boutique,” he said, tugging his sweatshirt down and
re-starting the engine. “And just for the record, if you thought I
had a wife, why were you turning me on like that?” he called over
his shoulder.

“You started it, grabbing my foot and
planting it where I couldn’t wriggle free.”

“Enjoyed your attempts though.”

“So I felt.” She rose and pulled her cardigan
on again. Then went to stand behind him, pressing her face against
him, enjoying his scent in return.

Matthew reached an arm back and pulled her
closer. “I had no idea if you’d give in and play.”

Kate set her hands on his waistband, pushed
up under his sweatshirt again, and linked her fingers over his taut
belly. “I could hardly slap you away in front of the boutique
lady,” she said. “And by then, I wasn’t certain about things
anyway. Hamish threw a comment out last night that made me wonder.
‘Goodnight to Sis,’ I think.”

She felt him flinch. “Why didn’t you ask,
Katie? We wasted the whole night. I was dying for you.”

“Not the sort of topic you can easily raise
without giving the game away,” she suggested.

“What game?” His tone was sharper than
before.

She wondered why, and whispered right in his
ear, “Figure of speech. I wanted you too, but if I’d asked about
Lottie being your wife, it would have been a pretty transparent
invitation.”

Was it only her imagination, or did he relax
a little?

Matthew turned his head far enough to nuzzle
her hair. “I’d have accepted in a heartbeat. Get the lunch, woman.
And do those buttons up or we’ll never get home.”

Kate grinned, and left her cardigan unsecured
and her bra on display as a deliberate tease. She bent to the
little fridge and investigated what Bob had provided. Ignoring the
very nice bottle of champagne, she removed a beer and a juice, and
the big platter of chilled kebabs. Juicy chunks of succulent
lobster had been threaded on skewers for easy eating, and a bowl of
peppery dipping sauce and slices of crusty buttered baguette
accompanied them. She set everything on the built-in table beside
Matthew. “Beer or juice if you’re flying?”

“Precious cargo,” he said, choosing the
juice. He glanced sideways, then reached across swiftly and touched
the cold bottle to her nipple, rubbing it up and down as she tried
to jerk away.

“That’s going to need warming up now,” he
said, keeping one hand on the controls, and bending to fasten his
hot mouth on her breast. “And we’ll never bloody get home at this
rate,” he mumbled through a mouthful of bra. “Stop tempting
me.”

Matthew stared ahead as he piloted the Water
Nymph back across the deep dark waters of Milford Sound. Kate had
retrieved her T-shirt, done up her cardigan, and donned her jacket
again. She fed him skewers of lobster and slices of baguette, and
he tipped his bottle of juice up now and then to wash the crumbs
down, but his mind was far away.

Was she here to spy? To relay information
back to her father?

And if so, why hadn’t she jumped his bones
the previous evening? He’d made it more than obvious he was
interested in her. If the delicious Ms Pleasance had visited
Queenstown as the bait in a honey trap, she should have made the
most of her opportunity. Tried to worm her way further into his
life instead of worrying about him being married to Lottie. That
sounded too moral for the role he’d cast her in.

He frowned, barely concentrating on the boat,
and much more occupied with Kate. This morning had been pure
enjoyment. Taking her shopping was unexpected fun—especially after
seeing her in that devastating dress. And
most
especially
after she’d reacted to his boot-lacing game. God, his eager cock
had certainly given his interest away, but she’d joined right in
with her wriggly toes in those ridiculous socks, and he’d known
there’d be more flirtation to follow.

The flight had been magic. The spectacular
scenery had wowed her, and it was great seeing things through
someone else’s eyes. Someone else who mattered.

He breathed out a long, slow sigh. Yes, she
mattered. He hadn’t wanted her to matter until he knew more about
her. Sy Karlsen had sent an out-of-office reply, indicating he’d
gone to Fiji for his daughter’s wedding. There’d be no
investigation until he returned.

So. Kate. Even when he should be worried
about flying in ever worsening weather and beating the storm clouds
home, Matthew had her front and centre of his mind. Beautiful.
Desirable. Willing. And possibly treacherous.

Already there was a difference in the air.
Kate pulled her cosy cap on again, wound the scarf a couple of
turns around her neck, and drew her jacket close. The small planes
were deserting the airfield like a swarm of insects.

“Will we be okay?” she asked, eying the
darkening sky.

Matthew sent her a broad grin. “Right as
rain, but we need to bustle. The wind’s rising faster than they
predicted.”

He waited impatiently for his turn, drumming
his fingers on his thigh, and taking to the air without delay. The
little craft bucked and shuddered in the less stable air. Kate
caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

The mountains still sparkled, but far to the
south, a bank of threatening cloud advanced. She flinched as she
surveyed the vast area of steep uninhabited country below them.
What were the chances of finding such a small target if the worst
happened?

The turbulence steadily built. Matthew sent
her another slashing smile as he reached across and caressed her
knee, but the challenging flying conditions soon diverted his
attention from her again.

Kate tried to allay her concern by reliving
their embraces on the boat. He’d wanted her fiercely, and had told
her and shown her with passion. He was not Lottie’s husband, after
all—she could enjoy him and see where it led. If it spoiled the
chance of working with Lottie, so be it; Matthew had totally
deflected her attention from the job.

A huge buzz of anticipation spread through
her body, and the present sense of danger only heightened it. She
ached to be on the ground and in his arms again, surrounded by the
scent of his skin.

The little plane droned ever on, see-sawing,
rising, dropping, its engine note changing as Matthew compensated
for the conditions. At last, she heard through the headphones,
“Soon be home,” and he dropped the nose a little. Lake Wakatipu
crept into sight, and Kate glimpsed the now familiar sight of the
old Earnslaw steaming across the ruffled water.

Relief swamped her as the plane finally
touched down with a heavier bounce or two, taxied out of the way,
and rolled to a halt.

“Piece of cake,” he said.

“Really?”

“Glad to be home, actually. That’s going to
be quite nasty.”

“What about Lottie? Will she be safe?”

“She’s with friends. They’ll look after her.
I made sure she had her medication with her.”

They alighted. The wind bit through fabric,
and sent icy fingers under cuffs and collars. The temperature had
plummeted, and the sun lay buried in a mess of poisonous
bruise-coloured clouds. Kate pulled her jacket close and wrapped
her arms across her chest.

The gale whined around the SUV as it sped
along the spookily darkening highway. She was pleased once they
were inside the house again, and safe.

Safe? With Matthew?
The real danger
is just beginning...

Matthew stripped off his jacket and tossed it
over the newel post at the bottom of the stairs. “Hang your party
dress up first,” he suggested, handing Kate the bag he’d carried in
from the SUV.

He strode up the hallway toward the big
sitting room, and she turned for her bedroom. A hiss and flare
greeted her as she arrived back at the double doors. He squatted in
front of the wide stone fireplace, absorbed in lighting the
kindling under a pile of logs.

Feeling more certain of her ground now, she
said, “I thought you didn’t like this room?”

One corner of his mouth kicked up. “Real
fireplace, Katie. Big deep rug. Thick curtains for privacy.” He
rose and crossed to the huge window to draw them, shutting out the
view of tossing tussock and the fading mist-shrouded mountains. The
room became surprisingly dark. As he returned, he snapped on a pair
of lamps at either end of the long bookcase. A golden glow
reflected off the walls. “Just imagine what we could do in here. It
might become my very favourite room in the house.”

“The
sitting
room?” She’d been
expecting the privacy of his bedroom.

“It’s the only real fireplace. The rest is
central heating.” He sent her a hard hot glance. “I’ve pictured you
spread out in the firelight here for the last couple of days. Your
dynamite legs...” He’d moved close enough now to cup her breasts.
“These beautiful things. And all that hair tumbling free...”

Kate’s body buzzed with anticipation. “But
what about Lottie?”

“She might stay over if the weather gets much
worse. I’ll phone and see what’s happening.”

He reached for his mobile and pulled Kate
close, nudging a hipbone into the notch of her thighs and chafing
slowly against her. God, he felt good there! Kate snuggled nearer.
He kissed the side of her face as he keyed in the number. His lips
moved to hers, and he held the phone so close she heard the signal,
and then Lottie’s voice. “Ya?”

They regretfully, moistly, murmuringly
parted.

“Matty, are you kissink someone?” Lottie
demanded.

“I’m kissink Katie,” he chuckled, releasing
her. Kate smiled and wandered across to the fireplace, crouching
down to watch the small lively flames. She took no real notice of
his conversation, her imagination now occupied with the very near
future. He was not Lottie’s husband. She would not be stealing. The
intensely desirable had become astoundingly possible.