The sensual smile touching his lips, full of knowledge and purpose, and sent the twin tides of panic and arousal rippling through her already overwrought body.
Public displays of affection had been part of their written agreement. But, when she’d agreed to that aspect of their deception, she hadn’t factored in a proper wedding with a dress, a ring and a thoughtfully designed bouquet, not to mention a ceremony in one of London’s most exclusive chapels, which he’d somehow managed to pull off in less than a month.
Katie had simply assumed Jack would probably want to do something basic and understated. But, when Jane had outlined the plans for the ‘big day’, Katie had resigned herself to going through with it, understanding that the elaborate dog-and-pony show Jack had insisted on had to be part of the push to make the marriage seem real. So why hadn’t she been better prepared for this kiss?
Her lips pursed to stop the hum of sensation getting any more pronounced as Jack’s gaze lowered pointedly to her mouth. Katie’s eyes fixed on his face as she tried to convey her feelings to him telepathically.
Could we please get this over with ASAP?
But Jack, being Jack, seemed in no hurry whatsoever to rush the kiss that would seal their devil’s bargain.
The knowing smile spread across his features, making her sure he knew exactly how the molten weight in her belly had lodged between her thighs.
She struggled to remain calm as her breathing sawed out through congested lungs and Jack took his own sweet time lifting the jewelled veil over her head. He then spent another infinitesimal age arranging the tulle with careful precision over the hairdo a team of stylists had spent hours taming into an artful chignon threaded through with more woodland flowers.
His gaze met hers at last and his thumb skimmed down her burning cheek—possessive and electric. The contact startled her, making the fire flare at her core.
She stiffened, desperate to temper her reaction, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how easily he could turn her into a mass of pulsating sensations. But she realised she had already given him all the ammunition he needed when he leant down, his thumb sliding under her chin and sending the darts of heat shimmering south, to whisper into her ear, ‘Relax, Red, I won’t bite. Unless you want me to.’
Before she could think of a pithy response, his lips found hers and the last of her composure shot straight up to the vaulted ceiling.
His tongue licked across the seam. Her mouth opened, surrendering to him instinctively, just as it had done four weeks ago. The lava swelled and pulsed as he explored in expert strokes. His all-consuming kiss dragged her into a netherworld of passion and provocation as her tongue tangled with his.
And every last coherent thought flew right out of her head—bar one.
More.
Jack drove his tongue into the warm recesses of Katherine’s mouth, devouring the taste he had become addicted to. A taste he’d spent the last four weeks away from his new bride to control.
The fire roared in his gut, turning his flesh to iron as the kiss went from controlled to desperate in a heartbeat. He grasped her cheeks to angle her head and take the kiss deeper, to devour more of that glorious taste and her elemental response.
She kissed him back, her tongue duelling with his as they consumed each other in fast, greedy bites.
He heard the sound of the bouquet dropping onto stone tiles, then her hands slipped under his waistcoat, grasping fistfuls of starched linen. Her whole body shook as she clung to him, as if she were caught in a storm and he were the only thing anchoring her to earth.
His muscles tensed, the desire to scoop her into his arms and carry her to some dark, secret corner of the chapel all but unbearable.
‘Mr Wolfe, perhaps you and your bride would like to sign the register?’ The vicar’s voice seemed to drift into his consciousness from a million miles away, through a heady fog of heat and yearning, then registered in his brain like a bombshell.
He tore his mouth from Katherine’s. She was staring at him, her eyes glazed, her full lips red and swollen from the ferocity of the kiss. Her expertly arranged hair hung down on one side, tugged from its moorings by his marauding fingers.
She let go of his shirt.
How can she still drive me insane so easily?
He cleared his throat to dislodge the rock pressed against his larynx and sucked in an unsteady breath, far too aware of the heavy erection pressing against his boxers.
It was a good thing the tailor had insisted the wedding trousers be fitted loosely or he would be giving the whole of the congregation a clear demonstration of how much he wanted his wife.
His wife.
The thought struck him for the first time that maybe this arrangement, this deal, wasn’t going to be as manageable as he needed it to be. And that was without even factoring in the problem of her pregnancy.
He’d travelled all the way to New York to get a grip on his reaction to her. The fact he couldn’t stop thinking about her, had even dreamed about her, had only made him more convinced distance was his best strategy, for the time being at least.
It had nearly killed him a month ago to keep his reaction to the news of her pregnancy in check. He had never planned to father a child for the simple reason he had no clue how to be a father, and he knew he didn’t have the tools necessary to learn.
But, as he had crouched beside her in his office bathroom, the shocking discovery of her condition had been swiftly followed by another, even more disturbing, revelation.
While he didn’t want to care for this child in anything other than a financial capacity, he did care for Katherine Medford. Enough to want to protect her and her business. Enough to want to mitigate the ravages of what he’d done to her body. Enough to ensure this child had his name. In the weeks since, he’d persuaded himself that the visceral reaction had to come from a need to be a better man than the man who had sired him.
Katherine had simply triggered that knee-jerk reaction with her suggestion he might try to bully her into a termination. At first he’d been furious at the whispered comment, but he’d come to accept that had to be why he had been so determined to get her to agree to this marriage. And why he had been so focussed on getting the deed done as soon as possible.
When she’d told him in his office she didn’t want to sleep with him, he’d of course had an equally visceral and enraged reaction. It had taken him every single day since to get a grip on that. And realise that giving in to their sexual chemistry would be a bad move—until he was in complete control of everything else about this arrangement.
But his hard-earned control had started to slip the moment she had appeared at the back of the chapel in a swathe of seductive silk, her wild, red hair tamed beneath the wispy veil.
His breath had backed up in his lungs and he’d been... Mesmerised. Enchanted. Bewitched. And angry—with himself most of all. Because the deep yearning squeezing his ribs had reminded him of that feral kid huddled in a doorway in the West End, watching the theatregoers stroll past him on their way to the Tube—rich, clean, well-dressed, beautiful people who’d had everything, while he’d had nothing.
Katie’s wedding dress should have looked classy and demure—it was what he’d requested—but the shimmering fabric had hugged Katherine’s curves like a second skin, sliding sensuously over her generous hips and those high, full breasts—made even more glorious by her condition.
The evidence of her pregnancy had horrified him that day in his office, but some aspects of it now only turned him on more—which made no sense whatsoever.
She’d walked towards him—her stride bold and determined—but then he’d seen the flicker of anxiety as she reached him. It had required a titanic effort to remain aloof and in command of his senses during the endless ceremony until the vicar had finally declared them man and wife.
But, when he’d heard the invitation to kiss his bride, he’d seen the note of panic and defiance in her expression. The answering tug of possessiveness—still tempered by the memory of that kid yearning for things he couldn’t have—had made him determined to stake a claim. To prove to everyone—and Katherine most of all—she belonged to him.
And before he’d had a chance to think better of the impulse, he’d leaned in, inhaled a lungful of her provocative scent, seen the shocked arousal making the gold shards in her eyes gleam... And all hell had broken loose.
He’d stayed away from her precisely to avoid this uncontrolled reaction. Given their chemistry, he had no intention of having a platonic marriage, but he also had no intention of letting the hunger blindside him again, the way it had in Wales—and all those days ago in his office—until he figured out how to compartmentalise his reaction to her condition.
Distance hadn’t worked, though, because his hunger for her had only become more insatiable, his desire more volatile.
Terrific.