The Billionaire's Beautiful Intruder (Billionaire Knights Book 3) (10 page)

L
ike the last time
, the chopper departed from the roof of the Knight Tower building, where a heliport had been constructed for the personal use of the Knight brothers. Only this time Molly wasn’t alone in the aircraft with Marco, but shared the cramped space with Steve. They’d been waiting inside the helicopter for the past twenty minutes, Steve checking his watch from time to time. She couldn’t help glance at the darkly haired skin of his powerful forearm, and marvel at the way it would feel if she allowed her fingers to dwell on the spot. But then he glanced over and she quickly averted her gaze, feeling caught.

Finally, she heard Steve grunt, “Let’s take off, Marco. Looks like our friend is a no-show.” The irritability in his voice was palpable, but his annoyance was nothing compared to Molly’s despair: they would be all alone out there!

“The… the architect isn’t coming?” she asked.

Steve gave her a curious look. “He texted me to tell me he might be delayed and it looks like…” Just then his phone produced a beeping sound. Steve checked the text, his face a mask of exasperation, and told Marco to take off.

Obviously the architect hadn’t been able to make it. But then why were they flying out there at all? Surely without the architect there was no point. She was of absolutely no use to Steve whatsoever. And she would have told him that, but Marco had fired up the rotors and the deafening sound made speech impossible. Especially since she wasn’t hooked up to the radio yet.

So she sat back and tried to keep her tension and nervousness under control. Once, being this close to Steve would have been wonderful, the only thing she longed for, but now it felt painful to a degree. To be so close to the man she loved and yet be unable to reach for him, to touch him, to be in his arms…

Then she resigned herself by figuring they would only be on the island for a couple of hours. They’d just go over the site and then Marco would fly them out again. And perhaps at a later date they would come back with the architect, but then Steve probably wouldn’t need her anymore, and leave her in London.

She tried to still her raging nerves, and the tension that knotted in the pit of her stomach, and then they were airborne. The flight over was actually a pleasant experience, as Steve passed her a pair of headphones, and started giving her a brief historical overview of the island.

It had once belonged to a Norman king, who’d taken it as his personal prize for conquering the city of Dermal in the South of Scotland. But then for centuries after it had been uninhabited. The original house the king had built had withstood the test of time, however, and it was on its foundations that Steve’s great-grandfather had built the new house. He liked to take a retreat there once in a while, to be away from the day-to-day business of amassing his wealth, and do some soul-searching. Younger generations of Knights had done the same, each adding something to the house and adapting it to modernity, but the initial idea had remained the same: to provide a place out of time and out of the world where they could go and find peace. And now Steve was opening it up for others to share its blessings.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” she gushed, and their eyes briefly met, his silvery grays clashing with her sparkling greens with an intensity that left her reeling. It was obvious that whatever he thought of her privately didn’t mesh with his professional opinion of her. He admired her for her talents, that much was obvious, but didn’t desire her as a lover. He had other women lined up for that particular role. And with those thoughts she sunk into a pit of despair once more.

Marco announced their arrival, and when they touched down she felt her chest expand, breathing in the fresh ocean air wafting on the stiff breeze. She quickly jumped down from the aircraft, assisted by Steve, and they ran a safe distance from the chopper, keeping their heads down. Then watched as Marco expertly lifted the contraption into the air and maneuvered away, banking a hard left. Soon their mode of transportation was a mere speck on the horizon.

“Why doesn’t he stay?” she asked nervously.

“Don’t worry. He’ll be back,” Steve responded tersely, as if upset about something. Probably the fact that the architect hadn’t shown up, she thought.

She followed him as he set foot for the house.

The place was exactly the way they’d left it the other day, and Molly smiled to herself as she entered ‘her’ room. She’d never thought she’d be so glad to be back here, and wondered why that was. Could it be because she was growing accustomed to the feeling of being away from things? It seemed as if time moved slower here, as if the rush and hurry of modern life didn’t apply to Tyler Island.

And then there was the soundscape, of course. No car horns brutally piercing the air with their insistent clamor, no incessant drone of millions of cars and trucks and buses, and no senseless chatter from people glued to their smartphones even as they rode the Tube or walked the streets of London. The only sounds to be heard here were the winds blowing around the sturdy structure, and the birds warbling their hearts out. She could get used to this.

And when she rejoined Steve in the sitting room she already felt her mood lifting. She could even imagine, as she watched Steve bent over the sturdy wooden table, studying a map he’d drawn of the island, them being lovers once more. Just the two of them, on this island, for as long as they pleased, with no one and nothing to disturb them as they pleasured each other.

The moment she approached, however, she saw the scowl on his face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I didn’t budget for the lack of building space,” he told her, indicating on the map where they were, and where he’d planned to build the other cabins. She noticed that there was only a small strip of land on which they could build, the plateau they were on ending in a sheer drop behind the house, and bordered on the other side by the forest which Steve was adamant not to disrupt.

“We could always expand to this side,” she suggested, pointing in the other direction. The land sloped down toward the ocean, then ended in another sheer drop to a smattering of dangerous-looking cliffs and crags. And as they sat around the table, discussing possible plans and how they would go about bringing them to fruition, the nearness of Steve quickly had her heart racing. And when he inadvertently brushed against her hand as he pointed something out on the map, her pulse picked up speed.

Steve watched the pulsating vein at her throat, and thought it was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. His eyes dropped from the delicate skin to the swell of her breasts as she leaned over the table. She’d zipped down her fleece jacket, and her breasts were thrusting against the plain white T-shirt she was wearing underneath. When he glanced up, his eyes fastened on the luscious curve of her lips, pink and slightly parted, and the thought of worrying them with a kiss as hot as the one they’d shared before set the fires of his arousal raging.

He could have waited for the architect back at Knight Tower. The man had texted him that he was an hour out, stuck in London traffic. But he’d decided he couldn’t afford to wait any longer. Why? Why had he made that choice? It was obvious now. Because he wanted to be alone with her. Like they’d been before Mike had rudely interrupted them. He had to admit to himself that it was more than sheer professional interest that fired his desire to be here alone with her.

She’d gotten under his skin, he realized, and perhaps even into his heart? No, of course not. He never let women into his heart. Because they weren’t interested in that particular organ. All they cared about was his substantial wallet. He’d noticed that when his father had remarried after his mother’s death. His stepmother had been a gold digger of the worst kind, and when finally she’d worn their father down and he’d died in a terrible drug-induced car crash, she’d taken the money and continued to live a very privileged and affluent life, not a moment wasted in mourning her late husband.

No, if women were interested in him now, after the damage his body had sustained, it was only because he was one of the wealthiest men in the country, and since Molly wasn’t that kind of person, her interest in him was nonexistent. She’d allowed him to make love to her that one time, because gratitude had weakened her resolve not to get involved with him. Now, however, when he’d virtually abducted her and forced her to join him in this project of his, she would be even less interested than she was before. All she cared about was…

“What did Malcolm have to say about this trip of yours?”

She frowned. “Malcolm? What do you mean?”

“You must have texted him when I told you about my plans. Wasn’t he worried you’d be spending your time here alone with another man?”

Her frown deepened. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. Malcolm is my manager—well, he was my manager, at least. Now he’s an associate, I guess.”

Rage suddenly tore through him. He slammed the table. “Cut the crap, Molly. I saw the picture of the two of you in your apartment. I’m sure your future lover had something to say about the time we spent here on the island.”

“My… lover?” Her eyes were wide, and she could have fooled him into believing she was innocent of the accusation. But he knew better, of course.

“Did you tell him what happened? Did you tell him we slept together?”

Her demeanor changed abruptly into a frosty denial. “I’m sure Malcolm wouldn’t be interested in the least. My personal life is strictly my own.”

“And why is that? Because he doesn’t know you’re secretly in love with him?”

She glowered at him, her lips trembling. “I’m sure that none of this is any of your business,” she said, her voice shaking with indignation.

“What if I choose to make it my business? I employ you now, remember?”

“Things that pertain to my private life are of no concern to you,” she snapped.

“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, honey,” he said abruptly, walking round to her side of the table and cupping her face in his hands. “So terribly wrong…”

Even before he kissed her she knew what was about to happen. She could read the intent in his eyes clear as day. And the worst part was that her eyes were closing even as his lips descended upon hers, her body turning pliant and soft in his arms. And when finally his mouth was plundering hers, he needed but a moment’s insistence of his penetrating tongue to sever the seam of her lips and enter the warm, soft hollow of her mouth, her tongue welcoming him eagerly, slashing against his in a duel that was as much pleasure as eager anticipation.

He’d placed his hand provocatively on her breast, exploring the soft globe with his fingers, quickly and wickedly finding her nipple, as she yearned for his touch, aching to be caressed. And then she was softly moaning his name against his lips, in a betrayal shocking to herself and undoubtedly sweet victory for him.

Her body had yearned for his touch like a flower for the rain, and now that it had what it was wanting all these days and nights it wasn’t about to let go. And when his hand slipped beneath her shirt, and sought and found her naked breast, his fingers closing on her pouting nipple, she wantonly pressed against him. Her tongue darted furiously against his, her arms slipping around his back and then her fingers clasped around his neck, in delirious delight.

He quickly carried her into the bedroom and gently deposited her onto the bed, his lips never leaving hers. His hands trailed down her sides to her hips, the snap of her jeans coming loose under his deft touch, and then he was tugging off her pants even as she was removing her shirt and sweater. Within seconds she was naked on the bed, writhing beneath his touch, his lips quickly replacing his fingers on her breasts and then he was taking her nipple into his mouth, the heat of his tongue flicking about her areola, raising it into an aching peak and she cried out her frantic need. Her fingers slid into his long black hair, willing him to devour her lustful flesh.

He glanced up, and briefly their eyes met, the liquid heat flaring in his gaze a close match to the desire she felt, but then his tongue stroked along her deformed flesh and she stiffened. It was daytime, and all her hideous scarring was clearly visible, unlike last time, when her body had been cloaked in relative darkness.

But Steve was undeterred, his hands sweetly caressing her belly.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, as he darted kisses around her belly button, and she relaxed with relief and tearful elation. His tongue curled lower and described a clear path to the burning triangle between her thighs, the wisps of red hair inviting his touch. And when his tongue touched her clitoris, she cried out, shoots of electric current traveling in all directions and slamming her into oblivion before landing her back on earth when his tongue dove between her lips and entered the most intimate part of her. Eagerly lapping at her moist heat, his fingers splayed her outer lips even as his tongue laved her sensitized flesh.

She moaned and thrashed wildly, bucking beneath his grasp as he took a firm grip on her buttocks. And when the expanding ripples of her orgasm had died down he was rising up over her, his sex gently moving against hers, the glistening tip of his hardness sliding along the wetness of her channel, and then he was inside her, his girth spreading her flesh.

Steve thought he’d never experienced desire and urgent need like he did when he entered her. The moment he sank his flesh into hers, felt her body expand and clasp around his length, he experienced a powerful sense of rightness. This was what he’d yearned for all these days when they’d been apart. Finally they were one again. He never wanted to be without her, never wanted to be disconnected from her again, he knew. He looked into her eyes and was surprised to find genuine affection there, which of course couldn’t be. It simply wasn’t possible. But then why was she so pliant beneath him, so eager for his touch, and why did she respond so passionately to his penetration?

And then she sighed his name again, and he was lost, and rocked deeply inside her body, moving to the deepest part of her, the part where a nasty bomb had hurt her and damaged her permanently. And as he slid into her over and over again, harder and deeper, her legs folding around him and urging him on, he knew that she was the one for him, the only woman he’d ever loved and the only one he’d ever love. And when she trembled beneath him, arching and moaning her climax, he felt her muscles contract around his girth, and he was hurled over the edge along with her, and with a wild roar he experienced his own orgasm, depleting himself inside the vessel of her body.