The Billionaire's Runaway Bride (6 page)

Without another word, he lifted her into his arms, his mouth never leaving hers as he carried her out of her silver and blue room with the irritating satin sheets and into the other bedroom.

At the first touch of his mouth on hers, she was lost, just as she’d known she would be. Her fingers dove into the thickness of his hair and her mouth found comfort in his, taking as well as giving. “No!” she said in protest as he laid her on the bed, but her arms wrapped around his neck and even she didn’t know if she was saying no to his kiss or no to him moving away.

He stood up straight and stared down at her, victory in his eyes as his hands quickly moved to remove his jacket which he dropped to the floor. His shirt went next and he stared at her the whole time, his eyes never allowing her to retreat as she watched him expose more and more skin. When he dropped his shirt to the floor, he moved back to her, easily pulling her unzipped dress down to her waist, his chest covering her sensitive breasts, the crisp black hair rubbing against her nipples through the black lace of her bra.

“I want you, Sophie,” he growled, his mouth moving down her neck, nuzzling the lacy fabric away from her breast and capturing the taut nipple with his teeth.

“Jason!” she called out, her back arching in both pain and pleasure as his teeth nipped, then his tongue soothed, both driving her crazy and melting her body. Her legs were trapped in her dress and she writhed against him, wanting to feel more of him, all of him. She hadn’t realized how much she needed his touch, craved it in the long, lonely nights over the past winter. But her body remembered and wouldn’t be satisfied until she had all of him, covering her and making love to her.

With a sudden movement, Jason stood up again and Sophie cried out, her body not ready for him to leave her. “What are you doing?” she demanded, her voice coming out as a gasp.

“Just removing a hindrance,” he said and pulled her dress down her legs. Her stockings and underwear came next. A moment later, he pulled his tuxedo slacks off and boxers, tossing them behind him and then, naked, rejoining her on the bed, his hips moving her legs apart and Sophie’s mind went blank except for the pleasure he was creating with every movement, every touch and taste.

“Touch me, Sophie,” he said, his voice barely above a growl.

Sophie was amazed and fascinated. Her eyes widened and she hesitantly moved her hand from his shoulder down his chest. She watched the play of muscles underneath her skin and was fascinated. Licking her lips, she looked up into his face to see if he really meant it. He’d never asked her to touch him before and she’d never been brave enough to do so. The look in his eyes, the heat coming from his expression told her everything she needed to know. And it gave her courage to continue. With that courage came excitement beyond anything she’d known before. Her hands moved tentatively at first, exploring the textures of his chest and arms. Then moving down lower. She hesitated before going any lower but he wouldn’t let her retreat. He moved onto his back, pulling her with him so she was leaning against his chest. With one hand, he pulled the pins out of her hair and with the other, he moved her hand so she was holding his erection, the length of him feeling like velvet against her palm.

The touch scared her and she tried to pull her hand away. But he just grabbed it again and pulled it back, showing her how to touch him, to excite him. Once she understood, she was more than willing to take over and both his hands went into her hair, pulling her forward for a kiss.

Sophie loved the feel of him but after only a few minutes, he pushed her back onto her back again, leaning over her and spreading her legs again. “I’m sorry, Sophie but I can’t hold back any longer,” he said and pulled her hands away from him, holding them both over her head. “Look at me,” he demanded.

When she opened her eyes and licked her dry lips, she pleaded with him to take her, to come inside her and give her what her body wanted more than anything. “Please Jason,” she said and arched against his body.

“Please what?” he said, hesitating at her hot, wet opening. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want…” she said, shaking her head and raising herself up higher. “I want you inside me,” she called out, closing her eyes in shame that she could surrender so completely to this man so easily. “Now!” she said and sighed with relief and pleasure when he pushed into her.

Within moments though, the relief was gone, replaced by a building need that intensified and consumed her until the fire exploded within her. She held onto his shoulders, her nails digging into them as he found his own release moments later.

When they were completely spent, his face buried in her neck and Sophie stared up at the ceiling, wondering why she couldn’t deny him anything in bed. What kind of power did he have over her?

But thoughts were not allowed to continue. He pulled her to his side and within moments, she was asleep, cradled in the warmth of his embrace.

Sophie was digging furiously in the gardens outside when Higgins came forward with a message for her.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he said and handed her the note.

Sophie pulled off her gardening gloves and took the note, her teeth grinding in frustration as she read the words. “Thank you, Higgins,” she said evenly. Without another word, she pulled her glove back on and started digging again.

“How dare he!” she said, stabbing the hard ground with her spade. “What am I? Some sort of servant?” she asked. “I won’t do it.”

The note was from Jason and had ‘requested’ that she be ready for a night at the opera. He mentioned that important clients would also be attending and that they would be going out for dinner afterwards.

Sophie argued back and forth with herself, determined to not be ready to go at the appointed hour. She was not his to request, in the guise of a veiled command, that she attend anything with him. She didn’t care if the clients could make or break an important deal he was working on, she would not go out tonight. She wanted to stay inside and soak in a hot bubble bath and read a book. She did not want to go to the opera. She hated the opera.

Oh! If only she could resist the man. How could he have so much power over her? She thought back to the previous evening when the other two men were talking to her. She hadn’t been even remotely interested in them in any way other than as interesting dinner companions. As soon as Jason walked up to her and touched her, she was oblivious to everyone and everything around her. He didn’t even have to touch her. He could do it with only a look.

Her face flamed red as she thought about how she had touched him last night. Sitting back on her heels, she looked around quickly to see if anyone could see her embarrassed face. Why had she done something so sinful? Unfortunately for her self-esteem, abused by years of horrible comments from her father, her body reacted to the memory of touching him so intimately. She wanted to do it again. Tonight. Now, she admitted to herself since she was alone.

Sighing, she picked up her small shovel and dug determinedly into the soil, breaking up the clumps the hard winter had created around the delicate roots of bushes. If only she could keep her distance, perhaps she could make him understand that she really didn’t belong in this marriage with him.

What had happened to her divorce petition, she wondered suddenly. The small shovel almost fell out of her hands and she leaned back on her heels. Had it just disappeared into thin air? She hadn’t received a call from her lawyer in the past month.

Dropping her shovel and getting up from the ground, she rushed into the library and picked up the phone. Dialing the number she’d memorized over a month ago since she’d debated back and forth on whether to go through with the divorce and had called, then hung up on the solicitor’s office several times, she waited for someone to answer.

“Hello, may I please speak with Mr. Jeremiah?” Sophie asked breathlessly. “This is Sophie Randal,” she explained, hating that she’d taken Jason’s last name. Closing her eyes, she tried to push the memory of how excited she’d been to change her last name, happily, naively submitting the government forms necessary to make it legal.

Mr. Jeremiah was immediately put through to her. “Sophie! How are you doing? I understand through your husband’s lawyers that you were dropping the petition. Congratulations, although I was hoping to let you cry on my shoulder when the divorce was finalized,” he joked.

She squeezed her eyes in frustration after hearing the words. “Dropping the petition?” she asked. “What makes you think I’m doing that?” But she already knew.

Mr. Jeremiah shuffled some papers on his desk. “Yes, a man by the name of Gerald Yancy called me three days ago and told me that you were canceling the petition. I tried to reach you to confirm the information but your landlady said that you’d moved back with your husband so I assumed that the information was correct.”

“Ah,” she said. “Well, please don’t tear up the papers yet. I’m not sure what is going on.”

She heard the man chuckle. “Well, I won’t advertise that information anywhere. With you coming back onto the marriage market, I don’t want any of the competition to know about it in advance,” he said.

His words seemed like an odd thing to her ears. “I’m sorry?”

Mr. Jeremiah cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, that is not really appropriate, is it? But I was really hoping that you and I might….” He trailed off without finishing. “Well, you know,” he said finally into the silence.

Sophie thought she understood and her face glowed with pleasure. “Thank you so much,” she said, not encouraging the man in that direction although it did make her heart sing with pleasure. “I’ll be in touch.” Sophie hung up the phone carefully and leaned back in the large leather chair, staring blankly at the books in front of her. Mr. Jeremiah was interested in her? He was in his late forties and going slightly bald, but he had a wonderful personality that made people look at the man instead of his physical attributes.

“He’s just being nice,” she said, but the smile didn’t leave her face. She glanced at the clock and noted that it was almost time for her to go upstairs and shower for the evening, if she was going to do anything about it.

What would happen if she didn’t get ready? Would he be angry?

Jason had never yelled at her although she’d seen him angry before. Not necessarily at her. But he was very controlled. In fact, if she hadn’t been watching him most times, she would have missed the signals that indicated that he was unhappy with something someone said or did.

Placing her hand on the desk, she pulled herself up and resigned herself to getting ready for the opera. Even though she hated it, she didn’t want to challenge Jason just yet. If she was going to get out of this marriage, she had to show Jason that she was not the right person for the role but that didn’t mean antagonizing him pointlessly.

“Good evening, dear,” Evelyn said as she passed through the foyer, breezing past Sophie. “What on earth are you wearing?” she said, stopping to stare at Sophie’s dirty jeans and sweatshirt. “And how did it become so filthy?” she asked.

Sophie resisted the urge to dust off her clothes self-consciously. “Was there something specific you wanted, Evelyn?” she asked, her blue eyes looking directly at Evelyn’s hazel ones.

Evelyn hesitated before answering, taking another moment to disdainfully assess Sophie’s outfit. “Nothing urgent. I just wanted to get Jason’s advice on something,” she said.

Sophie wasn’t fooled. Evelyn was manipulating someone. She never did anything that wasn’t self-serving and mean-spirited. The woman felt powerful when she was putting someone down or using them in some way. “Jason is at the office now. I don’t expect him back for about another hour and a half.”

“Oh, of course he is. I’ll just wait for him,” she said and walked down the hallway, disappearing to the left. Sophie had no idea where the woman might be going and wanted to tell her to leave and phone before coming back, but this wasn’t her house. It was Jason’s and apparently Evelyn and Jocelyn had free reign within the house.

Sophie made her way to her room, well, Jason’s room, and opened the closet doors where she’d discovered her clothes had been put the previous evening. Looking at the various evening dresses, she lost her small amount of excitement generated by Mr. Jeremiah’s words. Of course, he was only flattering her as a client but that didn’t matter. Her torn and abused pride would take anything she could get.

All her evening dresses were in either black or brown, neither color she really wanted to wear right at the moment. But she pulled her gray sweat shirt over her head and headed to the shower. Thirty minutes later, she wrapped a towel around her and padded over to the closet to survey her clothes again.

“Good evening,” Jason said, walking slowly into the room.

“Jason!” Sophie said, startled and spinning around to face him. Her hand immediately went to the towel knotted under her arms, tying it more securely. “What are you doing here?” she asked, one hand going self-consciously to her wet hair.

“I live here, don’t I?” he said, his eyes moving hotly over her scantily clad figure. “I like it but I’m not sure the rest of the opera fans will approve.”

Sophie stared at him, confused. “Excuse me?”

“Your dress,” he said, nodding towards her wet towel. “Most of the other women couldn’t pull it off so well,” he said and walked into the bathroom to shower.

She looked down at the yellow towel and smiled. He thought she looked good in a towel?