The Costarella Conquest (8 page)

He came out of the bathroom, wearing the other bathrobe and checking his watch. ‘It's eight o'clock now. How long before room service arrives?'

‘About another twenty minutes.'

The dark eyes twinkled sexily. ‘Only time for a good-morning kiss then. And no disrobing.'

‘We have the rest of the day,' she suggested happily as he drew her into his embrace.

He frowned. ‘No. No we don't. There's work I have to get done on the house before the plumber comes tomorrow.'

‘Can I help you?' she asked impulsively, wanting to be with him.

He shook his head. ‘You would be a major distraction, Laura. I'll work more efficiently on my own.'

He grazed his lips over hers—a distraction that didn't quite soothe the stab of disappointment over the rejection of her offer. She told herself his reasoning was fair enough and opened her mouth for a
whole-hearted kiss. He'd given her a wonderful night and there would be more in the future. No need to be greedy, asking for today, as well.

It was a soft, very sensual kiss, and he withdrew from it before it escalated into wild passion, brushing her hair tenderly from her face, smiling into her eyes. ‘Thank you for last night. We'll do it again soon,' he promised her.

‘Thank
you.
I'll look forward to it,' she said, inwardly craving much more from him but doing her best to accept the situation gracefully.

‘I'll book a taxi to take you from the hotel to Eddie's apartment after we've had breakfast.' He stepped back from her and moved towards the telephone on the desk, asking, ‘Where does he live, Laura?'

‘Paddington.'

‘That's handy.' He grinned at her as he picked up the receiver. ‘We can share the taxi. I'll see you to his place first before going on home.'

‘Where do you live?'

‘Next suburb. Woollahra.'

Virtually in walking distance from Eddie's apartment, she thought, watching him make the call. She wanted to ask what street, but held her tongue, knowing she would be tempted to go there and suddenly frightened of how deeply she was being drawn by this man.

Jake didn't want a full-on relationship. He'd told her so at dinner last night. And she had been
super-cautious about going down that road, too. Obviously nothing had changed for him. It shouldn't have changed for her, either. She had to keep her head straight about this, not get twisted up by emotions that could mess with the decisions she'd made about her life.

A journey with meeting places.

Best to keep to that.

But somehow she couldn't really take pleasure in the breakfast they shared. It didn't sit right in her stomach. And she hated the taxi trip to Paddington, knowing Jake was travelling on without her. It took an act of will to smile her goodbye at him. And then, of course, she had to face Eddie and say everything had been fine.

Which was the truth.

Though not quite.

It had been fantastic, brilliant, totally engaging.

Too engaging.

And that was dangerous.

CHAPTER EIGHT

T
O
Eddie's inevitable query about her night with Jake Freedman, she breezily answered, ‘Great food, great sex, and marriage is not on the menu for either of us so don't worry about my becoming a victim of secret agendas. That's definitely out!'

Later in the day, she settled her mother's concern with, ‘It won't become a serious relationship, Mum. It was just a dinner date, which I might or might not repeat.' With a mischievous smile, she added, ‘Depends on how good the restaurant is if he asks me out again.'

It made her mother laugh. ‘Oh, you and food!'

And she cut off her father's probe into the personal connection by regaling him with details of every spicy dish she'd tasted, virtually dismissing Jake's company as pleasant enough but relatively unimportant.

However, it was easier to establish in other people's minds that an involvement with Jake was not a big issue than it was to convince herself. Life simply wasn't the same as before she met him. He dominated
her thoughts, especially at night when she was alone in bed, her body restless with memories of their intense intimacy. It was impossible to block him out for long and she grew angry and frustrated with herself for not being able to set him at a sensible distance, especially as day followed day without any contact from him.

He hadn't given her
his
mobile telephone number.

He obviously had a silent land number at his Woollahra home because his name wasn't listed in the telephone directory.

No way could she call him at work because her father might get to hear about it.

Control of any connection between them was all on
his
side and she had no control whatsoever over yearning to be reconnected. Which was turning her into a stupid, love-sick cow and she hated being like that, hated it so much when he did finally call her on Friday afternoon, the zoom of pleasure at hearing his voice was speared through by resentment at his power to affect her so deeply. She only grudgingly managed a polite ‘Hi!' to his greeting.

He didn't seem to notice any coldness in her response, rolling straight into the business of the call without any personal enquiries about her or her well-being. ‘I've been trying all week to book us a table at one of your top restaurants for tomorrow night. Can't be done. They're all booked up and there hasn't been any cancellations. However, I have managed to
get us a table at Peter Gilmore's Quay restaurant for next Saturday night. Is that okay with you?'

Peter Gilmore's Quay—listed as one of the top fifty restaurants in the world! It was a totally irresistible invitation. A rush of excited enthusiasm flooded over all other feelings.

‘Fantastic!' tripped off her tongue. ‘I saw his amazing Snow Egg dessert on a television show. It started with a layer of guava purée mixed with whipped cream. On top of that was guava-flavoured crushed ice. Then a meringue shaped like an egg and an inside that was creamy custard apple. It was topped off with a thin layer of toffee melted over it. Absolutely to die for!'

His laughter flowed through her like a fountain of joy. She couldn't help smiling, couldn't help feeling happy.

‘Shall we meet there at seven o'clock? Same as last time?' he asked.

‘Yes.'

‘Great! See you then, Laura.'

Click!

That was it from him.

The happiness deflated into a rueful sigh. It was what they had agreed upon—meetings for an adventure into fine dining. Jake probably thought of any sexual follow-up as icing on the cake. And she should, too. She couldn't fault him for not suggesting they do something else together this weekend.
The problem of wanting more was entirely hers and she had to deal with it, get over it.

On the whole, Laura thought she managed that fairly well over the following week. Probably knowing they had a definite date to meet made it easier to concentrate on other things. She promised herself that at this meeting she would not expect an extension of their time together beyond the night, nor hope for it. After all, it was better for her to maintain her independence and not become slavishly besotted with the man.

Despite all her sensible reasoning, she could not control the fizz of excitement as she prepared for the big evening out. In an attempt to lessen its importance to her and show Jake she was taking this journey as casually as he was, she chose a far less dressy outfit—her best jeans, which were acceptable almost anywhere, and a peasant-style top with some wild costume jewellery she'd bought at the markets. Beaded sandals completed the look she wanted—fun, not seriously formal or serious anything else.

Eddie had been warned she would be staying overnight at his apartment again. Before leaving home she deliberately picked a yellow rose, not a red one, from her mother's garden. It was a Pal Joey rose and it had a fabulous scent. Jake might not remember asking her to bring one to their next dinner together but it definitely showed she was keeping to her side of their deal.

The ferry ride across the harbour from Mosman
to Circular Quay brought her close to the site of the restaurant. There was an excited lilt in her step as she walked around to the overseas passenger terminal where all the big cruise ships docked. Jake would be waiting for her inside Quay on the upper level and tonight would undoubtedly be brilliant all over again.

 

For Jake it had taken rigid discipline to wait through the fortnight before indulging himself with Laura again. It would only be a week next time, and the next, and the next, provided, of course, she wanted to go on with it. Why shouldn't he have as much of her as he could within reasonable limits? As long as he kept the end in mind, his involvement with her would not get in the way of what he had to do. It was no good wishing she wasn't Alex Costarella's daughter. Nothing could change that.

She walked into the restaurant looking like a wonderfully vivid gypsy with her black curly hair all fluffed out around her shoulders, lots of colourful beads around her neck and a peasant blouse that clung to the lush fullness of her breasts. Tight jeans accentuated the rest of her sexy curves and the instant kicks to his heart and groin told Jake she was having too big an impact on him.

He shouldn't have started this.

Shouldn't be going on with it.

But she smiled at him as he stood up from their table to greet her and a rush of pleasure had him
smiling back. Just before she reached him, her hand dived into the bag she carried and brought out a full-blown yellow rose.

‘For you to smell,' she said, her blue eyes sparkling a flirtatious challenge.

It surprised him, delighted him, and the pleasure she brought him intensified as he took the rose and lifted it to his nose. ‘Mmmh…I shall always connect this glorious scent with you.'

She laughed. ‘And I shall always connect glorious food with you. I can't wait to salivate through Peter Gilmore's menu.'

He laughed and quickly held out her chair with an invitational wave. ‘At your service.'

Once they were both seated, a waiter arrived, handing them menus, and Jake asked him to bring a glass of water for the rose to keep it fresh.

As soon as they were left alone together, Laura leaned forward with another heart-kicking smile. ‘I'm glad you like it.'

He grinned. ‘I have plans for this rose.'

‘What plans?'

‘For later tonight.' Like rubbing it all over her skin and breathing in the scent as he kissed her wherever he wanted. ‘I've booked us a room at the Park Hyatt at Campbell Cove…?.'

‘Another hotel,' she broke in with a frown.

‘My place is still a mess,' he explained with an apologetic grimace. ‘Can't take you there, Laura.'

He never would. He
had
to keep her separate from his real life.

‘But I know that hotel is terribly expensive, Jake. And on top of this dinner tonight, which will undoubtedly cost the earth…'

‘The cost is not a problem to me,' he assured her.

Still she frowned. ‘Does my father pay you so well?'

He shrugged. ‘Well enough, but I don't count on him for my income.'
Because that was always going to end and quite soon now
. He would probably become unemployable in the bankruptcy business after he'd blown the whistle on how corrupt some of it was and he'd prepared for that outcome. ‘I have a side interest that has proved very profitable.'

It piqued her curiosity. ‘What is it?'

There was no harm in telling her. He doubted she would tell her father and it didn't really matter if Costarella knew, not this close to his resignation from the company. ‘I buy run-down houses, renovate them in my spare time, then sell them on.'

‘Ah!' She looked pleased. ‘The property ladder. That's another show I sometimes watch on TV. It's always fascinating to see how each property is improved before reselling. How many houses have you done?'

‘I'm currently on my fifth.'

‘I'd love to see it sometime. See what you're doing to it,' she said with eager interest.

He had to clamp down hard on the strong impulse
to share it with her, to hear her views on the renovations he was doing, enjoy her interest. She was so attractive in so many ways. But anything beyond sexual intimacy had to be discouraged or he risked becoming far too hooked on Laura Costarella. Bad enough that he couldn't go to bed without wanting her in it.

‘Maybe when it's further along,' he said ruefully. ‘It's virtually a shell right now. Nothing to see but mess.'

She grimaced in disappointment. ‘Okay. I guess you'd prefer to feel some pride in showing off your work. I take it you've made a good profit from each house you've done.'

‘Good enough not to worry about paying for a great night out with you, Laura, so don't you worry about it, either. I can well afford special treats like this and having you share them doubles the pleasure.'

She visibly relaxed, smiling her heart-kicking smile at him again as she picked up her menu. ‘In that case, I'm very happy to share your pleasure. I shall have no inhibitions about ordering whatever I want to try.'

No inhibitions in bed, either, Jake thought happily, relieved that she wasn't pressing the house issue. Their time together had to be time out from his real life. He couldn't consider anything else with her however much he would like to.

 

Laura let herself wallow in the pleasure of being with Jake. He was so attractive in every respect—looks,
wit, charm. There was nothing about him she didn't like. However, he was big on control, and she shouldn't forget that. Although there was a plus side to that, too. It had obviously taken a great deal of inner strength to set the trauma of losing his parents aside and drive himself towards establishing a professional career, and his enterprise in climbing the property ladder, as well, was truly admirable.

Something Eddie had said popped into her mind—
sooner or later he'll turn you off
—but she honestly couldn't see that happening, definitely not tonight. In fact, she was so turned on, it was impossible to find any wrongness in him.

He was the best company over dinner, relishing and enjoying the amazingly wonderful food as much as she did. The conversation between them was fun. The sexy twinkle in his eyes kept her excitement bubbling. She loved every bit of him, which should have set warning signals off in her head, but it was so giddy with delight, no sense of caution was even registered.

Again it was an easy walk to the hotel. Her body was humming with delicious anticipation. Her feet wanted to dance all the way. Jake had brought the rose she'd given him at the restaurant, twiddling it in his fingers as they walked, smiling down at it, and she smiled at it, too, imagining he intended taking it home with him as a romantic reminder of her.

She knew this wasn't supposed to be a romantic relationship. It was probably crazy wanting it to turn
into one, yet all her female instincts were insisting this man was the right man for her. He wasn't
demanding
anything of her. It was simply great being together.

The hotel was brilliantly sited right below the harbour bridge. A set of glass doors on the far side of their room showcased a fabulous view of the opera house. Laura couldn't help loving the luxury of it, couldn't help loving the man who was giving it to her. As soon as the door was closed behind them, she turned to hug him tightly and kiss him with every fibre of her being, unable to wait another second to feel all he could make her feel.

Almost instantly they were on fire for each other, quick hungry kisses turning into fierce, needful passion. The barrier of clothes was unbearable. She broke away to get rid of hers and laughed as she saw Jake clamping the stem of the rose between his teeth to free his hands for the same purpose.

‘Just as well I picked off the thorns,' she tossed at him.

‘Mmmh…' was all he could answer.

Naked and still laughing with wild exhilaration, she raced him to the bed, landing and rolling until her caught her, trapping her into stillness with one strong leg flung over hers. She looked up into wickedly glittering eyes, her chest heaving for breath, her heart hammering with excitement.

‘You can't kiss me with that rose between
your teeth,' she teased, her lower body wriggling provocatively against his.

He plucked the rose free and started caressing her face with it. ‘I've been fantasising about doing this all evening. Lie still, Laura. Close your eyes. Feel the petals gliding over your skin. Breathe in the scent of them.'

It took enormous control to follow his instructions but it was worth the effort, focussing on the amazing sensuality of what he was doing, the soft graze of the rose, tantalisingly gentle, followed by a trail of kisses that had all her nerve ends buzzing. It made her feel like a pagan goddess being worshipped, anointed with perfume and brought to tingling life by a ceremony of slowly escalating physical ministrations.

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