‘No,’ he refused, his arms only tightening around her.
Her face lifted away from his chest, blue eyes awash with so many painful things that it was impossible to pick which was hurting her the most. ‘Oh, please,’ she pleaded helplessly. ‘Please, Andreas, let me go.’
For some unfathomable reason, hearing her use his name in that pained, wretched way unlocked something desperate inside him. His chest expanded on a tense draw of air, his eyes flashing with some awful emotion—then he lowered his head and crushed her mouth to his with a hunger so fierce that it caught her utterly blindsided.
Once again Claire discovered that she didn’t stand a chance. Not with emotions running as rife inside her as they were doing right now. And his mouth was hot, the taste of her own tears mingling with the moistness of his tongue. It was a seductive combination. The passion ignited like a fork of lightning that exploded to smithereens all hope of control. She didn’t even notice when her robe fell apart, or hear his muffled curses as he struggled with the zip on his straining trousers.
He entered her with a thrust that brought him to his knees with her straddled across him with his hands clamped to her hipbones.
‘Oh, dear God,’ she groaned against his devouring mouth as her body went wild for him.
But he lost it first, shooting into her like a man experiencing his first release. He couldn’t control it, could not control the gasping pants that shot from his pulsing body. When she joined him his grip on her hips was locked tight. And as she went limp against him he crumbled sideways, his arms shifting upwards to control her fall as they landed in a tangle of trembling limbs on the bedroom floor.
What now? Claire wondered as she reached rock-bottom of the slow slide back to wretched sanity. Another quick withdrawal followed by a walk-out? She even tensed herself in preparation for it.
‘I’m still here.’
His voice sounded like gravel, vibrating against her cheek where he had her face pressed against him. He hadn’t let go of her, and she was still lying with her limbs locked around him.
‘I’m going nowhere.’
‘Why not?’ she whispered.
‘You were right about me,’ he said. ‘I do prefer to stand alone. I don’t find it easy to be open with my feelings. But—as God is my witness, Claire, I want you. I want this with you!’ His arms tightened round her. ‘And if that means I must change then I will damn well change!’ he vowed. ‘And I will start by holding you like this for as long as you want me to.’
He meant it—he really meant it! The tears came back, but she wasn’t sure what they were for any more.
‘Say something,’ he prompted huskily, and she felt the tremor in his lips as they brushed her brow.
Say something, she repeated to herself. But what dared she say? Could she take a chance on this actually meaning something? The trouble was, she loved this man—had known that for quite a while now—while he seemed to only lust after her. How long did lust last? Especially with a man as self-contained as Andreas?
‘I want to go to bed,’ she said.
There was a short, sharp pause, then a heavy sigh as he went to get up.
‘Your bed,’ she added, lifting her face out of his shirt-front so she could look warily into his equally wary eyes. ‘I want to sleep in your bed, in your arms all night and wake up still there in the morning,’ she told him huskily.
‘Then what?’
Claire gave a helpless little shrug. ‘I don’t know,’ she answered honestly. ‘What do you want?’
‘You,’ he said gruffly, then repeated it. ‘I want you.’
Her poor heart fluttered, attempting to reach out and grab those words because they were the closest thing she’d had to a declaration of caring from him.
CHAPTER TEN
DEATH was a strange thing. It brought some people closer together and pushed others wide apart. In Claire’s own experience, she had lost more than a father when he’d passed away; she’d also lost lifelong friends who could not deal with the tragedy of the situation.
But when she stood beside Andreas as they buried his grandmother she found herself being drawn closer to the last person she would have expected, when Desmona suddenly broke down and began weeping so desperately that Claire didn’t think twice about going over and gently placing her arms around the other woman.
‘You were very kind to her, considering the circumstances,’ Andreas remarked much later as they were preparing for bed.
They shared a room now. They shared a life. Claire was even daring to think that they were sharing a marriage.
‘She needed someone,’ she answered simply. ‘It had never occurred to me until Desmona broke down like that that she and your grandmother must have been close.’
‘Desmona has been a member of this family for many years,’ he reminded her. ‘We all—care for her, though sometimes she makes it difficult to do so,’ he added dryly.