The Scent of His Woman

Excerpt
‘Well, time to pay up don’t you think,’ the amusement was infuriatingly evident in his voice.
When all she did was stand and wait, he gently prompted.
‘This is where you kiss me, one kiss bestowed upon your knight in shining armour
as we agreed.’
Lexie steeled herself, knowing he was making her give him the kiss rather than take
it, just to emphasis the point. Stepping forward and reaching up she put her hands on his
shoulders and quickly planted a peck on his cheek. Slightly rough now with the days
growth of stubble, even that brief contact was searing, hot and sexy. She’d intended to
step back quickly and escape through the shop door before he could object. Geth however
knew just what she intended and slipped his hand around her waist stopping her escape.
‘Now come on, that is not entirely in the spirit, is it?’
His voice was gently mocking as he moved his face close to hers.
‘Have dinner with me tomorrow and we will renegotiate.’
‘No.’
Her one word answer made him smile.
‘OK, then pay up nicely now,’ he rejoined as he lowered his head and claimed her
mouth.
All characters and events in this book are entirely the fictional work of the author and are
not based on any persons either living or dead.

All rights reserved and copying of this book in any format is prohibited.

 

Castle Romance 2012
http://castleromance.webs.com
/

Maggie Pritchard was born and bred in Wales. She still lives within a few miles of where
she was born and shares her life with her husband, three spoilt dogs and a pampered cat,
while her children and their families remain close. Introduced to romance novels at an
early age she now writes women’s fiction as a release from an otherwise hectic but
rewarding work and home life. This is her third ‘Castle Romance’ and again the story is set
in the Wales.

The Scent of His Woman.

Chapter 1
Lexie settled herself in a back row seat. Having draped her wrap over the chair in front and
stowing her big bag underneath, she looked around, taking stock as she waited for the
meeting to begin. Representatives of GLM Construction were filing in to take up the seats
behind the table at the front of the room, while the deputation from the protest group filled
the seats arranged in the middle of the big room. Four burly security guards watched from
their vantage points. Positions that had been chosen to allow them to intervene quickly if
the need arose, she noted. It seemed the opposition was expecting trouble. The thought
made her uneasy, and she remembered some of the heated discussions that had bounced
around the minibus on the journey to London, wondering, not for the first time that day,
what had possessed her to agree to be part of this. It wasn’t that she was indifferent to the
effect the new development would have on the little village she lived in. It was an
abomination, of course it was. It was just that since the professional protest advisors had
arrived the whole thing seemed to have taken on a life of its own.

As part of the local action group Lexie had, at least to begin with, been glad of the
professional way the newcomers had sprung into action. It was quite amazing really,
meetings were called, press invited, petitions circulated and signed and a twenty four hour
watch had been organised to block the start of any work on the site. Within days the
construction company had been reviled in the local media and had responded with a
request for this semi-public meeting at their London office. All good progress admittedly,
but at the same time, she knew she was not the only local resident of LLan-aberth that
was feeling as if this whole thing was running on out of their control. That was why, at last
week’s action group meeting, she had been nominated to be here today to speak for the
locals and didn’t that just sum it up? One local resident where there should have been a
dozen!

At last it looked as if the meeting was about to begin, Lexie shook herself out of her
reverie and began to take note of those around her, particularly those who were likely to
be the main players here today. The front row was completely taken now and it came as
no surprise that the seats were filled with those protestors who had been most vociferous
on the journey and indeed before. Others like her, with quieter voices, occupied the seats
behind. She found herself wondering if there was a link between vocal ability and colour of
dress too, as she ran her eyes over the brightly coloured garb of the front row. All but one
of the seats behind the very large table at the front of the room were now also occupied,
though there were no bright chunky knits in evidence there. Even the lone female sported
a dark tailored suit and a crisp white shirt. As she watched, another ‘suit’ made his
entrance to claim the empty chair in the middle of the row, this one though was different,
this one stood out. Tow coloured hair contrasted with the dark suit. Taller than the rest, he
filled to capacity the designer suit jacket with impossibly broad shoulders, Lexie could see
the material tighten over his expansive back as he leant over to speak to one of his team.
He seemed to command the attention of the whole group as he passed, making Lexie
curious to know who he was. She shifted in her seat, straightening her back to crane over
the shoulder of the man in front of her, at that very moment the tall man took his seat and
turned to face the crowd.

Lexie’s whole world tilted on its axis, as her panic ridden brain struggled to to
believe what she was seeing. The man, who seemed to be preparing to chair this debate
for GLM, was, without doubt, the very same man that six days ago, she’d left sleeping
soundly in what she had believed to be a borrowed luxury apartment in the Welsh capital
of Cardiff. An earth shattering need to get out of the room quickly, without being seen,
flooded her brain, but there was no hope of leaving unnoticed. The meeting had begun
and all she could do was sit tight.

How could it be? He was just a construction worker looking for a bit of fun. What
was he doing up there, dressed in a four figure suit and about to spot her any moment?
Sliding down low in her seat, she prepared to hide until the meeting was over and she
might be able to mingle with the crowd and escape unnoticed. Questions and responses
began to be flung around the room as the debate began, the noise reverberating as the
heated exchange gained momentum. But the thoughts reverberating in Lexie’s agitated
brain were much more compelling, blocking out all except the memory of that amazing but
shameful night. For the first time in a very long while, she’d lost control, abandoned all
sense and caution and lived for the moment. Her parents would have been proud of her,
but what her sisters would say was entirely another.

They’d all been in the Black Lion pub following one of the action meetings. Though
it was quite early, most of the locals on the action group had gone home and she was left
with the small group of hardened protestors. There were six of them in all and the
conversation had centered on the upcoming meeting that GLM had requested. The
general feeling had been one of elation that they had made this big developer feel it had to
talk to the people.

‘It’s a start’ said Holly, a pretty protestor with jeweled studs in her nose and lips.
‘But only a start’ the unofficial leader of the group had rejoined.
‘They think this will count for consulting with the local community and then they'll

carry on. Our job is to see that they can’t do that, so we’ll all need to be at that meeting,
they need to see we mean business. One thing though, we mustn't let anyone know that
we’ll all be in London that day, they have to believe there’ll be enough of us left here to
stop them, that the vigil goes on.’

The nods and murmurs of assent from around the table had however been drowned
out by the din of a group of construction workers for GLM making a noisy entrance to the
bar. Six dusty, thirsty men, dressed in work jeans, shirts and boots, all gathered around the
pretty barmaid, ordering drinks and snacks, laughing and joking as they began to unwind
at the end of their working day. Early finish on Friday, Lexie remembered thinking, early
finish on payday.

He’d stood out from the crowd he came in with, firstly because of the sheer size of
him, a good head taller than the rest and broader than any of them, and secondly because
of the way he looked around, surveying the room with sharp eyes that missed nothing.
Lexie relived a glimmer of the frisson she had felt when his eyes had met and held hers. It
made goose bumps rise up on her skin even now. She had read arrogance in those eyes,
or at least a self assurance that bordered on it, this was a man used to getting his own way
and even as she mentally shied away from that, something warmed deep in the pit of her
stomach in a most disconcerting way. She had looked away first, turning to recapture the
thread of conversation around the table, but in actual fact she couldn't recall any of it now,
only the sensation of knowing he was still watching her. She’d almost been able to feel the
heat of his gaze.

She had almost succeeded in blocking her awareness of him she remembered, until
that moment he made contact. She hadn’t seen him move across the room. One minute
he was leaning on the bar laughing and the next he was not. She did however remember
exactly when he suddenly materialised besides her. The scent of his cologne mixed with
the sweat and dust of his day, so definitely male, had filled her nostrils and flooded a
disquieting warmth deep into her lower belly. Then he reached over her shoulder, closed
one huge hand over hers and removed the lip-salve she was just going to reapply,
whispering into her ear as he did so.

‘Now that is not what I will want to taste when I kiss you.’

Then he was gone and her lippy too, and she had been left, mouth open at his
audacity, to watch him reclaim his position at the bar. Lexie had glared at him, annoyed at
the brazen way he returned her furious gaze, a smile playing at the corner of his firmly
sculpted mouth. How dare he, she’d thought, reaching forward without thinking to pick up
a small pot of some iridescent green goo that Holly had just applied to her multi-perforated
mouth, dipped her finger in and slowly applied it to her own mouth, all the time holding his
eyes with her own defiant gaze. Her temperature had risen a full few degrees though,
when his only reaction was an almost imperceptible deepening of the smile and a sardonic
lift of one eyebrow. Furious she’d dragged her eyes away from his and deliberately refused
to look in his direction for the next hour, concentrating instead on the groups plans.

It had come as a bit of a shock therefore, when as they had all left the pub she
found him waiting outside. Leaning with calm assurance against one of the huge 4x4s that
GLM seemed to hand out to its men with extravagant regularity, and she’d known with an
unwelcome certainty, that he was waiting for her.

She had hesitated for a second, torn, not sure if she should ignore him and walk
away, or confront him. Deciding that to have any exchange with him would be playing into
his hands, she turned to follow the others, but by now they were quite a way down the
lane, so she quickened her step to catch them up and a feeling of unease at her exposed
position began to flood through her. She had almost been running, she remembered but
still the others passed out of sight around a bend in the road before she could catch them
up. She could have called out to them she had thought afterwards, but at the time she
didn’t, maybe because she didn’t really know any of them very well. As they disappeared
from view Lexie had stopped dead in the middle of the road, alone now, there was nothing
to do but face him out. As the feeling of unease grew, she had to remind herself that there
was nothing to be afraid of, she was outside a public house in broad daylight, what could
he possibly do? So she’d turned around, half hoping he had gone, but of course he hadn’t.
He had still been in the same place, still leaning against that impossibly enormous
machine, still looking at her with that infuriating calm air of control. She’d stood as if
mesmerised, rooted to the spot, watching as he stood up straight and slowly, with a few
long relaxed strides, walked over to her, not once taking his eyes from hers. Up close his
bulk had seemed to block out the light and the male scent of him flooded her nostrils
again. Lexie had to look up to meet his gaze, his eyes were blue, but not the bright
cornflower blue you would expect from his thick thatch of corn coloured hair, but a hard
steely, almost silvery blue and they were focused directly on her with a frightening intensity
that made her stiffen in apprehension as she waited, almost desperate for him to say
something, anything, to diffuse this tension.

When he spoke his voice was deep, almost soothing and his words had chased the
fear from her.
‘You know you don’t need to be afraid of me’ he’d said.
‘Just as you know you will come with me, don’t you?’
All she had been able to do was nod her acquiescence and take the hand he held
out to her, it was as if being this close to him she lost the ability to think for herself. He’d
led her gently to the waiting vehicle, opened the passenger door and helped her in,
reaching over her to fasten her belt and filling her whole world with his bulk and scent
again. She’d watched with bated breath as he walked around to the driver’s side and
climbed in and she’d made no move to stop him as he’d leant over, cupped her face in one
big hand and looking deep into her eyes said.
’Hi, I’m Geth, who are you?’
In a tremulous voice she’d answered. ‘Lexie, my name is Lexie... Alexandria’. ‘
Hello Alexandria cariad’, he’d murmured as he lowered his mouth to hers.
Lexie re-lived the moment as she sat there in that London conference room.
Remembering how right the endearment in his mother tongue of Welsh sounded, cariad
‘beloved’ he’d called her softly, tenderly. Remembering how he’d moved his gaze from her
eyes to focus intently on her mouth as he slowly closed the gap between them.
Remembering how he’d exhaled slowly, deliberately, so she’d had no choice but to breathe
in the air he’d just exhaled, creating an intensely personal connection between them.
Remembering how he’d smiled as he ran the pad of his thumb over her lower lip, as if he
knew that as soon as she’d been able to she’d discretely wiped her mouth free of the
green goo, wiped it clean for him. Then as she remembered the first feather light touch of
his mouth on hers, she sank even deeper into her seat with a faint sigh. His mouth had
been cool as he’d softly pressed it against hers in a gentle almost chaste kiss, then moving
slowly he’d kissed the corners of her mouth and the bow of her top lip before increasing
the pressure and opening his mouth to taste her with his tongue. Then he backed off
slightly with a murmur of appreciation, before moving back to kiss her fully and
passionately. His mouth had been hard she remembered, as he deepened the kiss,
pressing with lips and tongue, silently demanding that she open her mouth for him, then
groaning deep in his chest as she’d done just that. She felt him again in her memory,
recalling not just feel of him, but the taste and scent too and the way she’d felt bereft when
he’d moved away to buckle up and start the big car. They had been miles down the road
before she had even begun to recover her senses.
She’d watched him drive, handling the big vehicle with relaxed confidence, not
questioning where he was taking her. When they’d pulled in to a small country pub, she’d
let him lead her in, settle her in a quiet corner and she waited while he ordered for them
both, a spicy Mexican platter to share, with a soft fruity red wine for her and a coke for
himself. Even sharing the meal with him had been sensuous she thought, eating with
fingers, dipping the food into the selection of sauces, laughing as he reached over to
gently wipe a spot of soured cream that had somehow been smudged onto the tip of her
nose. As the wine took effect she’d begun to relax and the conversation flowed, she’d
talked about herself, her life, her little shop, her passion for cycling, even about her two
beloved sisters, especially about them.
She’d talked about the protest too, tentatively at first, as obviously they would be on
opposing sides in some ways about that. But he had seemed so interested, especially
when she voiced her reservations about the protestors from outside, so she had prattled
innocently on. Then all too soon they were back in the car and this time she did question
where they were going.
‘Will you take me home now?’
She’d asked, then forgotten everything as he’d pulled into the circle of his arms and
kissed her. ‘
If that’s what you really want, I will,’ he’d said softly against her lips, ‘but it’s not what
you want, is it? Tell me, truthfully.’
To this day Lexie could not quite understand why she had not taken him up on his
chivalrous offer to return her safe and sound to her home. Maybe that was it, the safe bit,
maybe for once she didn’t want to be safe, maybe she’d had enough of the nice safe life
she’d built around herself. The nice safe, but passionless life of a frigid old maid!
It had started in college. She’d tried to be modern and free living, she really had, but
every time a boy had got close enough to touch she’d shied away. It was all so animalistic,
the groping, the grabbing, the slobbered kisses and hot sweaty hands. She just couldn’t
stand it and the very thought of further intimacies made her feel absolutely sick. She toyed
with the idea that she might be gay for a short while, then realised that it was not her
prospective partner’s gender that was the problem. The problem was her, she was not cut
out for intimacy, in fact she couldn’t even begin to entertain it and the only answer, for the
time being at any rate, was to remain a virgin. That had been all very well as an idea, but,
not unpredictably, students were expected to be in the forefront of all those lifestyle
choices that contributed to the liberated society of the last decade of the millennium and
that posed problems for a would be permanent virgin. So she had carefully cultivated a
facade, a false image of an outspoken, almost aggressive man hunter. To her female
friend she became a connoisseur and a critic of men and of sex, outspoken in both her
praise and criticism of her imaginary conquests and a good laugh into the bargain. To her
male friends she made a point of becoming too scary to touch. Let’s face it what young
man would risk it? If he tried and failed to get her into bed she would tell the world and the
world would laugh and if he did succeed in bedding her, his performance would be
broadcast to all and again the world might laugh. No better have her as a pal than take
such a chance.
So playing on their sexual insecurities she kept all at bay and her virginity intact. It
had seemed like the perfect plan, and to begin with, it had been, but as the years passed
and she left student life behind, she found that virginity loses its charm as a woman ages,
it fades into nothing as the years pass and even in this modern age where a woman need
not measure herself by the man in her life, the age-old label of ‘old maid’ can still hang
over the not so young (thirty four in this case) and still un-bedded, like an unwelcome
spectre.
So she had thrown safety to the winds and whispered her answer against his
insistent mouth.
‘No you’re right, that’s not what I want.’
And he had answered with a possessive kiss that robbed her of breath, and
thought, and sense.
Lexie closed her eyes, oblivious to the debate raging in the room around her and let
her memory replay the rest of that wonderful night. He had driven them into Cardiff bay, to
the area where luxury apartments rose from the edge of the man made lagoon. When
she’d looked questioningly at him, he’d explained that he had access to a mate’s flat while
he was out of town, there was no need to worry, it was all above board. She hardly
remembered the apartment anyway, it was just a blur of deep carpets, picture windows
overlooking the bay and the big luxurious bedroom. She did however remember everything
about him, the way he’d led her to the big bed and undressed her, before removing his
own clothes, dropping them in a heap on the cream carpet. She remembered looking at
him standing over her gazing down, drinking in her nakedness like a man with an
unquenchable thirst. It made her feel as beautiful as he was.
She could have been looking at a Greek god. Dusted with fine golden hair, his
broad shoulders and hard muscled chest tapering to lean hips and long, strong thighs. His
manhood, full, almost frighteningly erect, completed the image of the perfect male, ready
for his mate. She remembered welcoming him to her and reveling in the touch of his mouth
and hands. Remembered the purely male scent of him. Remembered touching him back,
stroking his wide back, twisting fingers in his thick hair as he drove her to heights of
wanting she had never dreamt were possible. Even now her breasts began to tingle at the
recollection of his mouth closing over her sensitive, tingling nipples, the day’s growth of
stubble abrasive on her tender skin, and a damp heat began to pool between her legs at
the memory of what had happened next.
She had been almost out of her mind with need by the time he protected them both,
parted her legs and rose over her. She writhed beneath him and lifted her hips to meet
him, wanting him inside her so badly she gave no thought to the consequences. So when
he thrust deep into her and the pain shot through her she could not help but cry out and
buck under him in a panic fueled attempt to be free. He had not released her though,
gripping her hips with hard hands, he had only stilled and lifted his head to meet her eyes
with his own which were filled with shocked surprise.
‘Do you want me to stop?’
Time seemed to stand still as he waited for her answer.
‘No, no please don’t stop, please’.
It was an involuntary plea, born out of sheer need that he answered by lowering his
head to kiss her as he pushed deeper into her and began to move in the slow satisfying
rhythm she craved. Moving until he climaxed in long shuddering thrusts deep inside,
before gently pulling away to lay still and quiet beside her.
‘Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you let me hurt you?’
His voice was calm, tender, and that was her undoing, she had twisted away from
him then and bringing the shutters down replied harshly.
‘What, and just casually drop into the conversation, by the way here’s a new thrill for
you, how do you feel about bedding frigid old maids!’
Her eyes full of angry tears she had made to get off the bed, but he stopped her,
pulling her back into his arms. She remembered how he had kissed her forehead, her
cheeks wet with tears, the tip of her nose and finally her trembling mouth. Then he’d
whispered into her ear.
‘Who are you angry with Lexie cariad? Me for taking what you have kept safe for so
long, or yourself for giving it to me?’
Lexie had not answered, just slipped her arms around him,needing to feel his
warmth and strength. It seemed like a long time later before he stirred and carried her
silently into the spacious bathroom. Lexie blushed at the recollection of how easily he had
aroused her a second time under the warm jets of water. She’d tensed and tried to move
away however, when back on the big bed he unwrapped her from the big fluffy towel and
began to trail hot kisses down her body his fingers leading his mouth to that most intimate
part of her. He wouldn’t be stopped though and she remembered how he had grasped her
hips in an iron grip.
‘Keep still’ he’d growled, ‘and let me teach you.’
Then he’d shown her just what her body was capable of, sending her into a
crescendo of cataclysmic pleasure that left her sobbing, weak and trembling in his arms.
‘Did I really hear some mention of frigidity?’
She’d heard him murmur incredulously into her hair just before they both fell asleep.
She had no idea how long they’d slept, bodies entwined, but she did remember
waking, first to the recollection of their shared passion and then to the dawning realisation
of what she had done, what she had been. Wanton, that was the word,a fairly bland, old
fashioned word for a complete loss of moral fiber! Her shame and embarrassment were
total, how could she have been such a slut? She did not even know his full name, had not
told him hers. She’d looked over at his sleeping face, impossibly handsome, a strong face,
high cheekbones, straight nose, square chin and that beautifully formed mouth. In sleep
his thick soft brown lashes lay fanned on his cheeks and she had longed to see them lift
so she could gaze once more into those incredible eyes.
Then it had dawned on her. What would she see in those eyes this morning? Last
night he had wanted her, lusted after her, it would be different in the harsh light of morning.
Last night he set out to make a conquest, only to find out too late that the prize he had set
his sights on was well past its sell by date. Lexie knew quite well that she looked a lot
younger than her thirty four years. She was blessed in that way, her sisters, who were
older, told her constantly, though to be fair they were both very youthful too and worked
hard to remain so. It was just the Owen genes she supposed. But now look what had
happened, he had set his sights on one thing and got entirely another and when he woke
she would see the disappointment register in those eyes, disappointment and the
realisation of her wretched secret. What a joke he would think, a man sets out to seduce a
girl and lands up taking the virginity of an old maid. He would certainly share that one with
his mates, it was such a story, hilarious!
All of a sudden it had become imperative she get away without waking him. She
could stand it then, if she could only leave without seeing all that in his eyes then she
could forget everything except his passionate lovemaking. Those were the memories that
she would keep warm and close to her heart, a sweet secret for her to re-live during the
long lonely nights. Slowly she began to wriggle and squirm from the bed, carefully moving
his heavy arm from her waist, stopping dead when he began to stir. Then once she was
free of the bed and he’d settled back into sleep, she’d gathered up her clothes, tiptoed into
the outer room to dress hurriedly and then made her escape. Outside the dawn was just
breaking, a chill in the air had made her shiver as she walked hurriedly towards the city
centre. Lexie did not know Cardiff well, only coming into the Welsh capital occasionally to
indulge in a little shopping with Florence her sister. She did know however how to find the
train station and had enough in her purse to get herself to within a few miles of home.
Then there would be nothing for it but to ring one of her sisters to come to the rescue.
They would just think she had been out on the town, they would scold and warn her she
was taking too many risks. Lexie had smiled at the irony, to think for once they would be
right.