Page 28

Throughout the meal, which was as sumptuous as only Avery Whitfield and a kitchen full of chefs could make it, Ellie fought not to look at Clay.

To her surprise, Darren McKittrick had been seated beside her.

She had a feeling he’d pressed Avery to accommodate him.

Clay obviously disapproved, though she didn’t really understand why since he wasn’t interested himself.

And since he had chosen not to invite one of his women friends—for the good of the team, she supposed—Ellie was feeling quite proud of herself.

After dinner, she danced with an endless number of handsome, available men and was pleased to find Clay scowling even harder.

By midnight she was tiring, and Darren was back at her side.

“Why don’t we go for a walk?”

he suggested.

“You look a little weary.”

“I am.

Thank you, Darren, that would be nice.”

When they reached the massive carved wooden doors that led onto the lower terrace, Ellie was surprised to see Clay appear in front of them.

“Going for a midnight stroll?”

“Ms.

Fletcher would like a little air.

Any objections?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

Ellie’s eyebrows shot up.

“I see.”

Darren’s lips tightened and his arm settled at her waist.

“And what about you, Ms.

Fletcher? Do you also object?”

She straightened.

“This is none of your business, Clay.

I’d appreciate it if you’d take your belated concern someplace else.”

“Ellie, listen to me.

You don’t know him.

He’s a philanderer. He’s—"

“Like you?”

she interrupted.

“Excuse us.”

She urged Darren through the door.

Clay frowned but didn’t follow.

“What the hell’s the matter with him?”

Darren grumbled.

“He’s just being Clay.”

Darren laughed at that, and they crossed the terrace, onto the sweeping lawns.

Ellie took off her shoes and left them on an old stone bench as they strolled along the lake, getting farther and farther from the castle.

The wet grass soaked her stockings but relieved the ache in her feet.

There was a boathouse down by the water, a small sailboat bobbing at the end of a rope that moored it to a little wooden dock.

“Why don’t we go aboard?”

Darren asked.

“Avery said it comes with the castle.”

Ellie glanced back toward the house, now looking like a brightly jeweled toy in the distance.

“I don’t think so.

We’d better be getting back.”

“Relax,”

Darren said, rubbing a hand along her arm and pulling her through the trees toward the boat.

“It’s early.

We could go for a sail if you want.”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

They were standing at the water’s edge among a thicket of fir and spruce.

Ellie turned away from him, but he pressed her back against the trunk of a tree and moved closer.

Before she realized his intentions, he had lowered his head and kissed her.

She could taste the licorice cordial he’d been drinking.

He smelled of some musky cologne. Warm fingers caressed her shoulders, but to her disappointment, Ellie felt nothing.

“Don’t, Darren.”

She pressed her hands against his chest, unhappy that Clay still loomed so strongly in her thoughts.

“You’ve been very nice all evening, but I really must be getting back.”

His voice turned cold.

“Don’t play coy with me.

I know you wanted me to kiss you.”

Leaning closer, he trapped her against the tree, captured her face between his hands, and kissed her so hard she tasted blood.

Though she tried to break away, he held her easily.

One hand cupped her breast while his thumb rubbed back and forth across her nipple.

More angry than afraid and hoping her dress wouldn’t get in the way, Ellie kicked him in the shin.

“Get away from me!”

“Ouch! That hurt.

What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

He said something foul beneath his breath but didn’t let her go.

“Don’t try to play innocent with me.

Everybody knows you put out for Whitfield.

Now that he’s through with you, how about giving me a chance?”

“Go to hell!”

Though she fought to kick him again, Darren only laughed and began trailing kisses along her shoulder.

She was furious but his cruel words burned deeper than his touch.

She was about to twist free when she felt him lifted away, a look of surprise on his face.

Clay had a hand on the nape of his neck and another on the seat of his pants.

With a quick turn and heave, Clay tossed him into the lake.

Ellie just stood there gaping.

Darren came up sputtering, water running down his face, bits of leaves and twigs in his hair, his evening clothes plastered against his body.

Shouting obscenities and shaking his fists, he sloshed ashore.

“I’ll get you for this, Whitfield!”

But he headed for the castle, wanting no more of Clay.

When Ellie turned, she found Clay grinning, his cheeks dimpled in the moonlight.

The sight had her grinning in return.

In seconds they were laughing together the way that had what seemed eons ago.

“It’s good to hear you laugh,”

Clay said softly as they began to regain their composure.

“It’s been a while.”

He walked to where she stood beside the tree.

“Thank you, Clay.

I guess I should have listened to your warning.”

“You couldn’t have known.”

Clay reached a hand to the ponytail that had slid haphazardly to the side and pulled the band, freeing her hair.

He spread the heavy curls around her shoulders.

“That’s better.”

It had been so long since he’d touched her, so long since he’d looked at her with such tenderness.

A lump formed in her throat.

“I never meant to hurt you,” he said.

She read the sincerity in his face. “I know.”

She’d known all along, she realized.

She just hadn’t been ready to accept it.

“At first it was just a game…a challenge.

Then later….”

He released a slow breath.

“Later it became something more.”

He glanced back toward the castle.

“I heard what he said.

I’m sorry for the grief I’ve caused you.”

She only nodded, afraid to trust her voice.

He looked so dear, and she had missed him so much.

“We’d better be getting back,” he said.

Ellie shook her head.

“I’m not ready yet.

I’ll be all right out here for a while.

Darren won’t be back.”

Clay smiled, a bit sadly, she thought.

“No, I don’t suppose he will.”

He watched her a moment.

“I’ll see you back at the house.”

Turning, he started toward the castle.

“Clay?”

He stopped and turned, his black satin lapel gleaming in the moonlight, lighting the sun streaks in his dark hair. “Yes?”

“Prissy told me what happened in Monaco.

About the drugs—and the women.”

His expression tightened, turned grim, as if he were reliving a painful memory.

“She gave me her word.”

“It was hard for her.

She said something about being a romantic.”

“If she told you what happened, then you know what kind of man I am.”

Ellie’s throat closed-up.

“I know exactly what kind of man you are,”

she said softly.

“It’s you who isn’t sure.”

She wondered if he understood how much he had to offer, how intelligent he was, how sensitive he could be.

“I’d better be going.”

With a last soft glance, he started striding away.

Ellie’s eyes filled.

She couldn’t stop the words from spilling out.

“Would you do it again?”

Clay stopped and turned. “Again?”

“What happened in Monaco.

If we could replay that morning, would you do it again?”

His incredulous gaze went to hers, the lines of his face so drawn and tight he seemed a character from the pages of a tragedy.

“My, God, I’d die before I’d hurt you again.

I never meant to…I shouldn’t have left you…I love you…I’d never do anything to—" Clay broke off, realizing what he had said.

His stricken look said he wished he could call back the words.

Ellie’s heart twisted.

The tears in her eyes spilled onto her cheeks.

Those times they were together, the way he had looked at her.

The way he had made love to her that night. Clay loved her. He would never lie about something like that. She hadn’t imagined it.

With a soft sob, she gathered her emerald gown and raced toward him across the grass.

When she reached the little knoll where he stood, he caught her up in his arms and held her hard against him.

“I’ve missed you so much,”

he said.

She could feel him shaking, feel the pounding of his heart.

“I love you, Clay,”

she whispered as she clung to him.

“I love you so much.”

He kissed her then, a wild, hot, needy kiss, and yet it was the sweetest, most tender kiss she had ever known.

She kissed him back, her heart swelling with love for him.

“Are you sure?”

Clay asked, his beautiful brown eyes searching her face.

“I love you.

I know the man you are inside.

That’s the man I fell in love with.”

Clay kissed her softly.

“Marry me,”

he whispered, and Ellie’s heart broke for this man she loved so much.

“It doesn’t have to be right away,”

he said.

“If you aren’t ready, you can take whatever time you need to be sure.”

She had to ask.

“Could you…could you be happy with only one woman? Could you spend a lifetime with only me? I could never share you, Clay.

I love you too much.”

His hands framed her face.

“I don’t need a throng of women to make me feel like a man anymore.

I’ve learned things about myself, about who I really am.

You’re what I want. What I’ve wanted for a long time. If you need me to prove it, we’ll wait. I’d wait for you forever, Ellie.”

Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Oh, Clay.

I’ll marry you.

I’d marry you tomorrow, if that’s what you wanted.”

Clay kissed her again.

His hand cupped her cheek.

“When I saw you leaving with McKittrick something just snapped.

I couldn’t let him touch you. Not when I love you so damned much.”

Ellie smiled at him softly.

“Tell me again.”

Clay’s big hand rested against her cheek.

“I love you more than life.”

“Oh, Clay.”

She thought that he would kiss her, but he just stood there, waiting for her to decide whether she would forgive him.

“I want you, Clay.

It’s been so long since we were together.”

“I want you, too.

There’s been no one else.

I haven’t wanted anyone else.

Only you.”

“I’ve thought of that night so many times.

I remember every moment, every touch.”

She glanced over at the little sailboat bobbing against the dock.

“Make love to me, Clay.”

Clay leaned down and kissed her. “Yes,”

he said.

“I won’t hurt you this time.

I’ll never do anything to hurt you again.”

Sweeping her up in his powerful arms, he carried her down to the wooden dock and set her on her feet on the deck of the sailboat, the teak cold beneath her stockinged feet.

Clay stepped aboard and kissed her again.

When the fiery kiss ended, his gaze searched her face.

Then he took her hand and led her below. In seconds, he had a small gas lamp burning. A wide berth upholstered in sturdy brown tweed filled the bow of the boat. Water lapped softly against the hull.

Ellie felt the heat of his hands as they skimmed over body, slipping off the narrow rhinestone straps of her gown, sliding down the hidden zipper.

Feverishly, she pushed his jacket off his broad shoulders, worked the buttons on this white tuxedo shirt, the button at the waist of his slacks, then his zipper.

Clay gently kissed her.

“I tried to forget you, but you were all I could think about.

There’s no one else for me, Ellie.

Not ever. Only you.”

Her throat ached.

She hadn’t been wrong about Clay.

She had followed her heart and it had been true.

She kissed him full on the mouth. They took off the rest of their clothes and Clay lifted her up on the berth in the tiny cabin, then joined her.

“I’ll make you happy, Ellie.

I promise, you won’t be sorry.

I won’t ever let you be sorry.”

“I’ll never be sorry, Clay.”

He kissed her deeply while he settled himself between her legs.

He trailed kisses over her shoulders, down to her breasts where he captured the peak and tugged it gently into his mouth.

Ellie laced her fingers in his hair as Clay moved lower, his tongue darting into her navel, his lips sliding over the flat spot below.

When he started moving lower, Ellie jerked upright in surprise.

“It’s all right, love.”

Clay eased her back on the berth.

“Let me do this for you.

Let me pleasure you.”

Ellie started to protest, but the heat of his mouth moving over her washed any thought of protest away.

Ellie cried his name as she reached the pinnacle, and deep saturating pleasure spilled through her.

The moment went on and on.

Tiny ripples still pulsed through her body as Clay came up over her, braced himself on his elbows and slid himself inside.

“Ellie,”

he whispered, kissing her again.

“I love you so much.”

The heavy hard feel of him rekindled her passion, and she arched against him, lifting her hips to meet each of his thrusts.

Digging her fingers into the bands of muscle across his shoulders, she heard him whisper her name and tightened her hold on his neck.

Her body clenched around him as she reached another shattering release.

Seconds later, Clay groaned, shuddered, and gave himself up to his own powerful 1 elease.

Together they spiraled down.

Easing her into his arms, Clay settled himself on the bunk beside her.

“Everything’s going to be all right now,”

he said, more to himself than to her.

“Yes…”

she said softly.

Clay was her lover, her friend, and he had found his way home to her.

He was hers as it seemed he was meant to be.

But Ellie wondered what would happen when Clay’s father found out.

And she worried that Avery might find a way to ruin what they both seemed to want so badly.