“I don’t know, exactly,” Skye said. “But I get the impression she doesn’t want me here either. Or maybe she doesn’t believe this is legit,” she said after a pause. “But your ex is the real problem, and I wish you’d told me how much everyone loved her, how much everyone would think of her when they saw me. I wish you’d told me—,”
“I told you what was relevant.”
“Damn it, Matthieu,” she stamped her foot. “That’s not fair. I needed all the information in order to do this properly.”
“There is nothing more that matters.”
She bit down on her lip, but it didn’t help. A moment later, she blurted, “Your aunt said that if you could cheat on someone as beautiful as Clare, then how on earth did I think I would keep your attention?”
Matthieu cursed in his native tongue, and suddenly there was no air between them. His chest collided with her breasts and all the anger and emotion of the past couple of hours bubbled over, filling her body with sparks.
“She had no right to say that to you.”
“She probably thought she was doing me a favour,” Skye muttered, so close she could almost taste him. “And she’s not wrong. If this were real, I’d never be able to relax.”
“You really believe that of me?”
She swallowed, frowning. The strange thing was, she didn’t. Slowly, she shook her head. “No. I don’t think you’re a cheat.” Her frown deepened. Because he had cheated, hadn’t he?
He made a noise that spoke of relief and gratitude and then he was kissing her, parting her lips with his own, his kiss demanding and urgent, his body strong and powerful as it pressed her forward, so she collided with the trunk of a large tree, the bark rough through the simple cotton of her shirt. She groaned into his mouth, knowing she should stop this, that it was important for them to talk more, but damn it, it felt so good to be kissed by him, she surrendered completely, knowing there’d be ample time later to understand him better.
Even when a tiny voice in the back of her mind was drowning her in self-doubt, she wouldn’t heed it. She wouldn’t stop this. His hands caught her face, holding her still, kissing her until she was breathless, until stars filled her eyes. One of his strong, powerful legs wedged between hers, so she ground herself down, arching her back as his strength pressed to her sex. He let out a guttural sound of impatience as he ripped his mouth from hers, his eyes sparking with Skye’s. Her breath panted from her body.
“Don’t you dare stop, Matthieu de Garmeaux.”
His lip flickered into a small smile but there was no amusement in his eyes, only raw, primal hunger.
“I can taste champagne in your mouth. Are you drunk?” He demanded, scanning her face.
“No, I’m tipsy,” she conceded, pulling him back to her, claiming his mouth as though her life depended on it, holding his shirt bunched in her palms so he couldn’t pull away from her and kissing her desperately. His body was moulded to hers, the tree at her back holding her upright, his leg supporting her. Her hand dropped to his side, pushing determinedly at the fabric of his shirt, separating it from his jeans until her fingertips collided with warm, toned skin.
“Skye…” His voice held a warning.
“I just want to look.”
He made a groaning noise then pulled away just long enough to rip his shirt over his head and throw it into the shade-filled grass at their feet.
“Is that what you want?” He demanded, his own chest heaving with the force of each breath.
“It’s a start,” she admitted, eyes chasing his bare chest, heart racing.
“Skye, this isn’t going to happen.”
The voices of self-doubt grew louder.
“Not until you’re sober, anyway.”
She tilted her head back against the tree. “I’m fine, I promise.”
“You promise me now. But what about later?” He demanded, his voice slightly uneven.
Only self-doubts were pushed to the fore of Skye’s mind, so she heard his objection through the filter of her own life’s experiences. Was this his way of letting her down gently? “If you don’t want me, it’s fine, you can just be honest.”
“How can you think that? I’m trying to do the right thing! I don’t want you to ever have recourse to say I took advantage of you.”
She frowned, something fuzzy yet important throbbing in the back of her mind. “I woke up feeling like this, and I feel like it now. It’s nothing to do with alcohol.”
His eyes flared wide at the unwitting admission.