His laugh was lacking amusement. “Let’s talk about it over dinner.”
“Dinner?” She shook her head. “I can’t even think of eating. My stomach is in knots. I feel sick at the very idea that William might use Ellie to get back at me!”
“I know.” Acting on instinct alone, he wrapped his strong arms around her shoulders and crushed her to his chest. He could feel the racing of her heart through his own body, and it stirred pity into the pot of desire and certainty that was bubbling inside of him. Her gaze was murky with worry when she looked up at him. “We will fix this,” he promised, his dark eyes dropping to her lips. Something between them seemed to change, as Chloe realised how close they were standing. She lifted her hands to his chest, whether to push him away or not, and found her fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt.
“How?” She asked, but her voice was already calmer.
His breath was warm against the top of her head. “Do you trust me?”
Chloe studied his face. She hadn’t trusted a man in a long time. She’d loved William, and only William, and it had burned her – badly. She bit down on her lower lip, wondering what it was about this man that made her feel completely certain. Certain that she did, indeed, trust him. That she trusted him with her life. And Ellie’s. She nodded, and then shrugged her shoulders. “Though I’m not sure why,” she added as an afterthought.
“Does the reason why matter?”
“I …” She furrowed her brow.
“Would it make a difference to how you felt, if you knew why?”
She bit her lip harder, and finally shook her head. “I guess not.”
His smile was dazzling. It set her temperature skyrocketing and made her legs wobbly. “I’m scared,” she said, though fear, worry and doubt were being rapidly supplanted by desire, lust and want.
“Then let me promise you this.” He lowered his head incrementally, until his mouth was just a whisper from hers. “I will never let him hurt you or Ellie.”
A million questions rattled through her mind. Why did he care so much? How could he stop William? And why did he want to? What would he do? And was he absolutely sure he could protect them?
But before she could ask any of them, his lips had gently pressed against hers. His kiss was tender and reassuring, and all it did was stir up a hankering for more. More of him, and more of his kisses. Her hands moved from his chest to his back, stroking him through the cotton of his shirt, feeling his warmth and strength.
It flowed into her, emboldening her. “I told myself we couldn’t let this happen,” she murmured against his mouth, leaning forward so that their bodies were locked as one.
She felt his smile. “It was inevitable from the moment you spilled your handbag,” he responded deeply. His powerful arms wrapped around her waist and lifted her effortlessly off the floor. She was gliding – like a sylph she floated through the flat. “You captivated me, Chloe. You intrigued me. With your quirky sense of humour and the weight of the whole world on your shoulders. Vous étiez tout ce que je serais attend.”
He switched effortlessly to his mother’s native French, and the sound of the foreign language made the hair on her neck stand on end. For she understood what he’d said. You were everything I’d been waiting for.
Her heart pounded; and her heart swelled. She was everything he’d been waiting for. The pleasure that simple sentence brought her could not be measured. It was impossible to explain the happiness that the very idea gave to her. She was everything he’d been waiting for.
Whatever was happening between them, it was as transformative to Hendrix Forrester as it was to Chloe. He was as totally affected by their connection as she had been.
“Yes,” she laughed, the true joy of the moment bubbling through her. “That’s just how I feel.”
Only the slight pause gave any indication that Hendrix realized his mistake. His hands stilled against her dress, and his mind reeled. She’d understood his statement. Or rather, she’d misunderstood it. He cursed inwardly at his own stupidity. Of course she spoke French. A lot of Britons spoke French, and vice versa. You were everything I’d been waiting for. And she was! The chance to wield a sword of revenge against his enemy was the ultimate gift. He hadn’t even known he’d been hoping for such an opportunity until William Ansell-Johns’s wife had strolled into his office. She’d provided him with just the chance to act – and he’d acted.
The thoughts brought a tinge of regret to him, and so he ignored them. In that moment, it was his body that was calling the shots. Not his mind, and certainly not the blood-rage he felt for Chloe’s soon-to-be-ex.
He lifted his head, his dark eyes sparkling in his face with emotions Chloe couldn’t possible decipher. But he’d stopped kissing her, and he’d stopped running his hands along her back, and she couldn’t possibly bear it if he were to stop altogether. She knew, with a blinding clarity, in that moment, that she wanted to make love to him. That she didn’t care what happened afterwards.
It was a doorway that had to be gone through. Not at a sedate walk, either. No, she wanted to bolt through it and into her future, come what may. A garden or a cemetery could await her on the other side, but whatever it was, she’d survive. She’d coped with William; she could cope with anything.
She linked her fingers through his, and tugged his arm gently. “Come with me,” she murmured, leading him through the lounge.
He followed.
How could he not?
Her bedroom was exactly as it should have been. It screamed ‘Chloe’. From the crisp white bed linen to the startling black and white photographs taken around Manhattan, to the assortment of paperbacks littering the top of her dressing table, it was both charming and elegant. Just like Chloe.
Alone with him, in her room, nervousness shifted in her gut. He saw it. He understood. His mouth sought hers, kissing away her doubts. Urgency was by his side; he pulled at her clothes, uncaring if he ripped them or not. Her breath was rushed; it burst from her lungs fast and deep. Her hands were shaking as they pushed his pants down, and they shook more as they lifted his shirt. Her eyes glowed with need – a need he completely recognized as a reflection of his own desires.
“God,” she laughed unevenly. “I haven’t done this in a really, really, really long time.”