 
LESSONS IN LOVE

Annette Hawkins

Published by Annette Hawkins at Smashwords

Copyright 2013 Annette Hawkins

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Chapter 1

There was no denying it, the man was gorgeous, simply perfection. Gail watched him wink at the stewardess as he boarded, suppressing the desire that he would claim the empty seat next to her. The way her luck was running lately, she'd probably find herself sat next to some boring executive type whose idea of small talk was to discuss stocks and shares or worse still try to seduce the pants off her in the hope of a quickie in the business-class washrooms. For the man walking down the aisle towards her though, she would happily grin and bear it. Hell's teeth, she might even take him by the hand and lead him to the restrooms herself. He had a beautifully sculpted body that deserved to be lusted over, and a face that angels would weep over.

As he stopped by her seat and turned to stow his bag in the overhead locker her heart did a double-flip. Her eyes roved from his knees upwards, lingered over his well-defined package, barely masked by the pants of his suit, and on to his toned chest muscles, arriving finally at his face. Ice-blue eyes stared back at her above a pair of full, sensuous lips that curled up at the edges as though he knew exactly what she was thinking.

"Do you need anything from the overhead locker?" Those luminous eyes raked over her face and breasts, seeming to strip her naked with his laser-like stare. Heat flared in her cheeks and somewhere else she cared not to think about.

"No thanks. I have everything I need." She feigned interest in the safety instructions tucked into the pocket in front of her while he took his seat by her side and clipped the safety belt across his lap. Following his lead, she felt a physical jolt of electricity shoot up her arm and left hip when he took the buckle from her hands and secured it at her side. Surprised, she looked up and caught him looking back, his eyes full of promise and challenge. In that moment, she had an out-of body experience, one which involved straddling his hard lap and kissing his luscious mouth.

"Carver Heath."

Gail blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"The name's Carver Heath." He reached over to take her hand and shook it. His fingers were warm, the strength in his touch undeniable. "If we're going to be sitting next to each other for the next fourteen hours, there no reason not to be friendly."

Moisture seeped through her panties. Without looking down, she knew her bosom buddies were standing to attention, especially when his eyes lowered and his mouth broke into a self-satisfied grin. She ran her tongue over her lips. There was no reason not to be friendly but was his idea of friendly the same as hers? She couldn't tell. What she could tell though, by the powerful masculine aura he exuded, was that Carver Heath was a man used to being on top, top of the heap that was. And, while on no account could Gail be considered the shy, retiring violet, either in her personal and professional life, something about the unadulterated hunk of masculinity in the seat next to hers intimidated her. She pulled back her hand.

"Gail Harrison. Travelling on business, and I must warn you, I'm a little nervous right now."

His predatory smile widened. "Nervous?" he said in a low rumbling growl that she felt from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair.

She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, unable to tear her eyes away from his. "Mmmhmm. I'm scared of flying. I'm hoping I won't do anything to embarrass myself but I thought it best to say something in case I start screaming or panicking or..." She was gabbling the first things that came into her head. Staring into his bottomless blue eyes had that effect on her, and when her heart started to do flippy-floppy twists in her rib cage and her head fuzzed over through lack of oxygen she knew what it felt like to drown.

He placed a finger against her lips to quieten her. "I get the picture."

Her eyes widened at the physical contact. "Do you want to move? Now that I've admitted I'm a crazy woman?" She hoped he didn't, prayed he didn't.

Carver took care to hide the smile that threatened to crease his face and shook his head. "Not unless this is a ploy to have two seats to yourself. No, I'll risk it. Could be quite entertaining to see what you do when you go crazy. Are you a screamer or do you just whimper?"

God, why was everything he said a sexual innuendo? Or had her mind descended to the level of the gutter the moment he stepped on board the plane? When he removed his finger from her mouth, she felt as though he had stolen something from her. She watched him acknowledge a tall, leggy stewardess as she passed through the cabin checking the passengers were safety-belted for take-off and stowing hazardous items. He was obviously a frequent flyer, and probably more, from the familiar way all the stewardesses greeted him.

As the plane taxi'd towards the runway and into final position, she gripped the arm-rests tight and squeezed her eyes shut. There weren't many things in life that scared her but flying, especially the take-off and landing, scared her witless. Why hadn't someone invented the teleporter, just like in Star Trek? Travelling would be so much more bearable.

The engines ramped up and suddenly they were hurtling down the tarmac strip towards the heavens. She felt the fear bubble up in her throat, waiting to give loud voice, and gripped the seat rests tighter. The next moment a strong set of fingers prised her hand away from the soft leather and massaged it between two calloused palms, causing a plummeting sensation that did nothing to assuage her terror. She dug her nails into his flesh convinced they were about to fall from the sky.

She heard a sharp intake of breath - it could have been hers had she been capable of filling her lungs at that precise moment - and then the voice next to her said, "Have you ever joined the Mile-High Club?"

Her eyes flew open. "I beg your pardon? Did you just proposition me?" Surprise and indignation were etched on her face. OK, so she may have entertained similar thoughts thirty minutes earlier, but the middle of a full-blown panic attack was not the time to think about sex. His expression was one of amusement. "I was just trying to take your mind off your fear and it worked, didn't it?"

What was he saying? She was aware of the hypnotic caress of his fingers across the back of her hand, right where goose-bumps were breaking out, of the strength that flowed from his palms to calm her thrashing heart, of thinking what it would be like to feel those same fingers trailing down her naked body. What in the world... He was right! His outrageous suggestion had made her forget about her fear. They were airborne, they hadn't crashed. She could breathe again. She released his hand, noticing the blood spots where her nails had pierced his flesh.

"I'm sorry about that," she offered with a grimace of apology. "I did warn you though."

"I'm glad you did. Come on, admit it. My suggestion worked." His eyes did a slow languid dance over her face and breasts, noting the tempo of her breathing, and back up again to pin her to the seat. "I'll have to come up with something else to take your mind off landing. Are you OK now? Do you need some water or anything?"

"A strong glass of alcohol, more like."

"I'll see what I can arrange." He pressed the overhead call button without taking his eyes off her, as though he had the power to turn her mind and body to a compliant, trembling mush. The bottle-blonde stewardess with impossibly long legs appeared immediately. "Hello Gloria. My companion would like a glass of champagne, if you are able to serve us now."

"And for you, Mr. Heath? Would you like your usual?" Gloria gave him a flirty smile which confirmed Gail's suspicions. Not only was he a frequent flyer, he was also on first name terms with all the female members of the flight-crew. Why did that thought turn sour on her tongue?

Carver nodded. "Thank you, Gloria. You know just how I like it." He turned back to Gail. "So, you are travelling to San Francisco on business. What is it you do, Gail Harrison?"

Once more she was pinned to her seat with his laser-like stare. This time she fought against it, breaking eye contact to regain her wits before fixing him with her own cool appraisal. "I work for Zeitlinger's Bank, in the Hong Kong office."

"Have you worked there long?" His accent was a soft transatlantic mix - Californian, with a hint of British public school.

"I transferred from the London office just over eighteen months ago. I'm the HR Manager. I'm also responsible for the global roll-out of a new HR computer system, which is why I'm travelling to San Francisco today." She pointed to the weighty computer manual tucked into the back of the seat in front. It had never looked so unappealing.

The stewardess returned with their drinks and a bowl of appetisers. Gail waited for the woman to return to the galley before speaking again. "What's your line of work, Mr. Heath? It's obvious you travel this route fairly frequently."

He raised an amused eyebrow. On him it was kind of cute, combined with that sexy grin of his. She found herself dirty day dreaming again.

"Call me Carver, and why do you say that?"

"You seem to be on good terms with the flight crew, particularly the stewardesses."

He gave a low throaty laugh that resonated through her nerve endings right to the marrow in her bones. "Guilty as charged. I don't deny I enjoy the company of beautiful women, which I why I down-graded from First Class to Business Class."

Gail frowned. "You downgraded? Why would you do that?"

He looked her directly in the eye and locked onto her gaze. "Because I wanted to get to know you."

Uncharacteristically for Gail, colour stained her cheeks and neck, and once again, his piercing gaze seemed to strip her bare. Her nipples strained against her shirt as though he had physically touched them, wanting him to touch them. Down, girls, behave yourselves!

Carver smiled at her dazed expression with satisfaction. It was true. He'd noticed her in the Executive Lounge while they waited to board flight CP1452 from Hong Kong to San Francisco. Or rather he had spotted her perfect heart-shaped ass, superbly defined in jeans tight enough to hug her contours and the curve of her buttocks, as she bent down to do up her overnight bag. It was at that precise moment that he fell irrevocably in lust, and by the time she straightened up and presented a glimpse of her face and those unusual violet-grey eyes, he was already indulging in the most lurid sexual fantasies that a cynical businessman facing corporate melt down had no right to think about. She was a living, breathing work of art.

Persuading the flight crew to downgrade him from First to Business Class had been no hardship when the chance to enjoy a few hours in the company of a beautiful stranger more than made up for the crisis that had required him to rearrange his hectic schedule with less than five hours notice. As the plane hit a patch of light turbulence he brushed his thumb against the inside of her palm and was rewarded by the sensual awareness that made her violet eyes flare. He was attracted to her alright, and he wasn't mistaken in believing that she was attracted to him too. For once he was going to enjoy the long-haul flight.

Gail took a deep breath to calm her shattered nerves. She loved to flirt as much as, probably more than the next girl, and flirting with a super-sexy stranger was even more fun. All her friends believed that eating boys and men for breakfast was Gail's favourite past time, preferring to tease and leave rather than tease and please. Yet when it came to flirting with Mr. Carver Heath, full-time, silver-tongued sex-god, she was well and truly outclassed. In fact Carver was in a league of his own. Not just because of his looks and drop-dead gorgeous, toned body, which on a scale of one to ten rated fifteen, but because he had the ability to seduce her simply with a single word or look. If he asked her right now to strip naked and lay across his lap as a human table to eat his inflight meal from, she would. It was that simple. He was x-rated sex on legs. If only she could remember where she had seen him somewhere before.

Unable to pull the answer from her mind, she drew on the only weapon she could claim against him - her HR expertise and intuition to assess his character. Beneath the easy-going, flirtatious veneer was a determined, resourceful man; one who was obviously not averse to using subterfuge to get what he wanted. It was the way his eyes flared and his jaw tightened as he looked at her, and the way his smile rested on his so sensuous mouth, that gave him away. A sex god he might be; he was also a man to be wary of. The thought scared and thrilled her to the micro-gusset of her g-string thong. And he still hadn't answered her original question.

"What business are you in, Carver?" she repeated. She watched his face carefully. They were complete strangers. He could spin any story, lie through his teeth if he wanted to, because once they landed at San Francisco it was unlikely they would meet again, but reading people was her job. If he hesitated just the slightest or dropped eye contact, she would know he was lying. And that would change the dynamics of the game they were playing.

"I'm a "business angel" or an entrepreneur," he replied, without missing a beat. "I invest in fledgling businesses and provide them with strategic advice." He watched her eyes widen, her jaw drop, and knew he had been caught out.

Carver Heath? Business angel? No way. There was nothing angelic about this man, and she _had_ seen him before. In the Business section of The South China Morning Post, not to mention the gossip columns. It wasn't often Gail felt ridiculous but at that precise moment she wished a hole would appear in the side of the plane so that she would be sucked out. Perhaps if she hadn't been so scared of flying, she might have recognized him when he boarded the plane. Carver Heath! She was sitting next to Carver Heath, indulging in wild sex fantasies with Carver Heath. The Carver Heath, multi-millionaire entrepreneur and renowned playboy. He must have thought her a total idiot for not recognising him immediately.

Carver watched her shocked reaction with amusement. The next fourteen hours were going to be fun, maybe a little longer, if his plans went the way he intended them to. His focus shifted to her mouth. Such kissable lips - full, with a prominent cupid's bow that cried out to be taken. Desire pulsed to his groin as he imagined how they would feel and taste beneath his or, better still, wrapped around his cock.

"How long are you planning to be in San Francisco?"

It didn't take a single brain cell to guess where his conversation was leading to. He was as sexy as hell, and a bad boy with it. Normally flirting with a good-looking guy would provide enough fun to pass an uneventful flight. Flirting with Carver Heath was a different ball game, literally. Gail was almost scared to find out just how bad he could be. Almost. She'd made a fool over herself twice over, first with her fear of flying, and second by not recognising him, yet he was still seated next to her, and still interested, if she read the light in his eyes correctly. It wouldn't hurt to keep him dangling a little bit longer.

Dancing around the obvious sexual tension between them, the idea of him in bed with only a sheet to cover his rampant manhood caused a seismic tide of lust to hit her broadside on. She wriggled in her seat to ease the throbbing aggravated by the seam of her jeans. Hell, they still had just over twelve hours to kill before landing. Carver Heath would have her in total melt-down just by the power of anticipation and a lot of x-rated flirting by then.

"Not long. I have to be in London by the end of this month." She left the idea hanging. "So, why are you travelling to San Francisco, Carver?" She twisted in her seat to give him her full attention, while her peripheral vision noted the fine dusting of dark hair beneath the V-neckline of his polo shirt, and the slight five o'clock shadow on his oh so kissable jaw. OK, she was running ahead of herself, imaging trailing a line of slow kisses down his finely-chiselled jaw-bone, but what else could a girl do when temptation in the shape of Carver Heath came knocking at the door.

"Something unexpected has come up with one of my US businesses. Nothing I can't fix but I need to act quickly." He switched the conversation back in a heart-beat. "Are you working over the weekend?"

Before she could answer, Gloria, the perky-breasted, long-limbed stewardess, returned to take their menu choices.

"See anything on the menu you fancy, Mr. Heath?" She flashed him a seductive smile which stopped short of Gail's vicinity. If Gail had been the type of person to take an instant and total dislike to someone, it would have been Gloria. She stiffened in her seat and feigned interest outside of the airplane window. "Are you stopping long in SF this time?"

"Just a few days." He reached across the seat divider to draw Gail's hand in his and gave her a covert wink.

Gloria quickly masked her disappointment, but not quickly enough. When she looked up again, she was careful to ensure her fake smile included both of them. "I hope you have a successful trip, sir. Let me know if there is anything else you would like, something not on the menu, perhaps."

Still holding Gail's hand, Carver didn't wait for Gloria to return to the galley. He leant over to whisper in her ear. "Sorry about that. I travel so much I'm an easy target for air-hostesses looking for a rich husband."

His warm breath blew across her cheek, sending her pulse into rocket-sphere. A sucker for punishment, she tilted her head closer and took a deep inhale of his masculine aroma. God, she could bathe in that fragrance, if he came gift-wrapped with it.

"Such modesty. I take it you've come across the very beautiful Gloria before. She certainly knows you quite well." His cynical words had caused her to reconsider. Did he think the same of her? That she was also the type of woman that would be enamoured with his money and would fall at his feet in adoration? Just let him try. Please let him try.

Carver watched the colour of her eyes turn darker, a sure indication of her mood. Just from sitting next to her for more than an hour, he had already worked out that dark meant fire and passion, and light mean calm and thoughtfulness. Right now he wanted them deep and dark, and focused only on him. He pulled upright, skewering her with his intense blue eyes.

"Does that bother you?"

"Does what bother me?" Hell, he'd caught her out, in the midst of another erotic fantasy. Gail had to frame her response carefully. "On the contrary, I don't blame you. Gloria's a beautiful woman. And you have a reputation to maintain. Success, money, and power are powerful aphrodisiacs, and where you are concerned I'm sure there is no smoke without fire." She smiled to soften the blow.

"Does it work on Human Resources Managers too?" Once again the light blue rings around his pupils reduced to almost nothing.

Unable to look away, Gail drowned. The sure knowledge that he was heavily attracted to her was enough of an aphrodisiac. Her panties were already sopping wet. If he carried on like this she would melt into a puddle of bone-less lust. Still, it wouldn't hurt to ruffle his self-assured arrogance. "Actually, I find humility and a sense of humour more attractive characteristics in a man."

He accepted her rebuff with an amused smile. "The same characteristics I enjoy in a beautiful woman. I can see I'm going to have to win you round with my softer side, Ms. Harrison, if I am to get to know you better."

It was too much. If she didn't do something to ease the sexual tension she was likely to combust. Every one bone, every nerve in her body, was alert to his proximity. Every breath she took contained his unique essence. For her own sanity, she had to break the spell. "I look forward to it, Mr. Heath. Would you excuse me please? I need to use the rest room." She stood up to ease past him.

With his hands on her hips, and her perfect ass dancing in front of his face, Carver knew he was in trouble. He could smell her arousal and it made him as hard as steel. He resisted the urge to sink his mouth onto her ass or slide his fingers between her thighs to follow the seam of her jeans to her sex. Instead he held himself back. He might regret the missed opportunity to join her in the toilet cabin but, as far as he was concerned, the end game was more important. A quick fuck in a tiny toilet cabin was exactly that, nothing more. In his wilder days, he'd "been there, done it, kept the panties as a trophy" without hesitation, but these days it was rare for him to act impulsively where women were concerned. Gail Harrison, on the other hand, with her sexy, heart-shaped butt was different. She had started to play games with his head, not to mention his libido from the moment he saw her. He allowed her to slide past, his hands on her hips while he worked out a strategy for how he could play hooky for a day or so from his packed work schedule. That luscious body of her would give them both sleepless nights if she let him. And he intended to do everything he could to ensure she did.

"Mmmmh," she sighed. "This is why I opted to fly out early. I plan to hire a car and drive to the Napa Valley to visit the vineries over the weekend. Once I've started the project, I won't have much time for sight-seeing." Gail watched Carver reach across to pick up her wine bottle and fill her glass. Following his lead, she sniffed the flowery aromas before placing the glass to her lips.

Carver swallowed hard. There was something infinitely sexy about her gesture, the rapt expression of pleasure on her face, the way she held the glass to her generous mouth, the tantalizing glimpse of the tip of her rose-pink tongue, which made him wish she was sampling him instead of the wine. "On your own or with friends?"

Once again her eyes snagged his, catching the overt invitation in them. "I prefer my own company," she said quickly.

Sometime between visiting the restroom and returning to her seat to find that their dinner had arrived, Gail had made a decision. As gorgeous as he was, Carver Heath was out of her league. Beyond this pleasant fourteen hour interlude, reality would hit when the plane hit the tarmac in SF. They would go their separate ways, never to see each other again. It had been a wonderful, sexy dream but _that's all it was_.

Carver let her comment and mood-change pass without rising to the challenge. He played to win, against all odds, even if he had to deploy various strategies to get what he wanted. He could afford to bide his time, for the moment. "Which vineyards do you plan to visit?"

As they ate a light meal of smoked salmon mousse and salad leaves, he persuaded her to talk about the wineries she had pencilled in her itinerary and the grape varieties she hoped to sample during the weekend. She had the sexiest, naughtiest laugh he had heard in a long time. The vibrations in his groin made him want to make her laugh more, preferably in bed. And those eyes. If he lived to be one hundred, he swore every time he saw that colour again he would always think of her. The plan to combine business with pleasure took shape in his head. Sure there was a crisis with one of his businesses, Synchrocity Ventures. Five years after launch, a hostile take-over bid had just been announced. But there was more than one way to skin a cat and with the benefit of a fun, relaxing and very sexy weekend in the Napa Valley, alternative solutions to his business problem would present themselves. Passionate sex with a beautiful woman always helped to recharge his batteries and something about the delectable Ms. Harrison brought out his primal instincts.

"I'm heading for Napa myself this weekend." He made a mental note to email his office with his change of schedule and stock up on condoms when he passed through the airport terminal.

"You are?" Gail turned to study him, surprise written across her face. "What are you doing in Napa?"

Carver folded away his meal tray. An interesting question. Getting to know her was his primary objective, anything else was secondary. "I'm heading for Calistoga. I have a business meeting there on Saturday night."

Thank god he had done his homework before boarding the flight. John Stanton-Hope, instigator of the hostile bid, owned a vineyard in the Napa Valley, along with other significant business interests in Northern California. While Carver had no intention of allowing the takeover to go ahead, he wasn't opposed to opening a dialogue with his adversary, who had built up a portfolio of complimentary businesses very similar to his own. The location of their business meeting may have just changed. It would suit John Stanton-Hope better, being one advantage, but Carver still intended to persuade him to consider a different proposal over dinner in one of the five-star restaurants in the Valley. For Gail Harrison he had a completely different proposition in mind. One which involved a very large king-size bed, a weekend's supply of condoms, and perhaps a hot tub surrounded by scented candles and an endless supply of chilled champagne.

Mistaking his brooding silence as a reticence to discuss his business, Gail feigned tiredness. She placed a hand over her mouth to stifle a yawn. "Excuse me. I must be more tired than I thought. I hope you don't mind. I need to get some sleep if I am going to drive to the Napa Valley from the airport. I've just had the week from hell and I don't want to fall asleep at the wheel." She folded back the food tray and reclined her seat.

The moment had passed. Carver knew it. "Good idea. I think I'll doze too." He tilted his seat back part way and stared at the ceiling. The important thing now was to be patient and bide his time.

Sometime in the night, Gail came to. Someone had draped a blanket over her, and her arm was pulled across the two seats, her hand captured between warm, powerful fingers against an impressive, muscular thigh, so close to the crease of his groin she could feel the heat from his body. When she tried to move, Carver brushed his forefinger across the back of her hand and pulled her closer, in a gesture so tender and intimate it surprised her. Through half-lids, she opened her eyes to discover him facing her, his eyes also half-closed, a smile on his seductive lips.

"Go back to sleep," he whispered. "I've got you. Don't worry."

Why did his words make her do exactly the opposite? Worry? Instinct told her he was up to something and it involved her.

Gail's fear of flying resurrected twenty minutes from landing, coinciding with the plane's final descent. Aware of her rising panic, Carver reached out and folded her hand into his. "Try to think about something else."

"Like what?" Gail choked. In truth, she couldn't think at all with his big hand enclosing hers. She gripped him tighter and tried to block out her anxiety.

"Like spending the weekend with me."

Gail eyes flew open. He had her full attention now. "I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me," he replied. "I'm asking you to spend the weekend with me. No strings attached. Just you and me, sampling wine, eating out, and taking time to get to know each other better."

The way his mouth curved into a sexy grin left her no way out. Gail understood exactly what he meant by "getting to know each other". The offer was tempting. "But what about your business meeting in Calistoga?"

"I've already thought about that. I want you to accompany me. I have a feeling your presence will help lighten the conversation."

Gail chewed her lower lip. "I can't..."

"Yes, you can. And don't deny you haven't already considered it. Let's not play games, Gail. We're both consenting adults. It's what we both want. Besides, sightseeing is much more fun when there's someone to share it with."

It wasn't until the plane connected with the gate that Gail noticed that they had landed. Better still, she had survived. She hadn't died and gone to heaven. But she was surely going to hell for agreeing to his proposal.

Chapter 2

Carver gave her a quick sideways glance as he manoeuvred the powerful convertible into the fast lane. His groin was buzzing. In business, he derived pleasure from the chase – setting his strategy in motion as he lured the other party into the deal. It was the same with Gail. They would be lovers by the end of the weekend, no doubt at all. It was just a matter of strategy and timing. But first he wanted to test her.

"Do you want to stop or shall I carry on to Tiburon?"

Gail studied his profile in the darkness. Her insides were doing a cross between the Argentinean Tango and the Quickstep. Somehow, perhaps due to Carver's persuasive coercion, or by her own misplaced sense of adventure, or both, she found herself in a car, heading towards Napa for a weekend in the company of Mr. Carver Heath. The thought of checking into a hotel room with him, of getting hot and naked in bed, in the shower, the bath, on a thick fur rug in front of a roaring log fire, had her body quivering with anticipation. He had that sort of power. She just wanted to feel his body against hers and have uncomplicated, totally wild sex. And it was going to happen soon. It was enough for her nerves to kick in.

"What's at Tiburon?" she asked.

"That's where we're going to stop for the night. My sister has a house on the bay."

Her sexual tension burst like a just-pricked balloon filled with water. "Your sister? But I thought we were heading for a hotel?" Realising how bland her statement sounded, she stumbled over her tongue to clarify. "I mean, I thought we were heading for Napa."

Carver cast an amused glance over her face. It was clear from her expression and tone of voice that his response had thrown her a curve ball. All the better. He liked to keep her on her toes. He'd promised to reveal his softer side, and that's exactly what she would get, for tonight at least. "If you'd prefer to go straight to a hotel we can do that. I just thought it would be more of an ice-breaker to stay at my sister's. Plus she's expecting us."

The Golden Gate Bridge loomed up ahead of them in the dusky twilight of the approaching evening. Gail stared at the twinkling lights across the bay. He had called her bluff. She'd expected him to take her to the nearest hotel and get down and dirty over a couple of glasses of wine. Instead, he was inviting her to see a side of him she never expected him to reveal. She should have been disappointed - well that was true, she was. She also felt respect. She was touched that he wanted to introduce her to his family, touched and puzzled. "Are you sure she won't mind. After all, I'm a complete stranger, and I'd hate to put her to any inconvenience."

"Don't worry. I gave Jo a quick call from the airport. If I know my sister, she's already made up the guest room for you. Besides, I figured if you met my family you would see that I'm not the big bad wolf the papers make me out to be."

He flashed such a rakish smile she had to laugh. Feeling more at ease than she had since first meeting him, she settled back into her seat and enjoyed the rest of the ride. "And there was me believing you were nothing more than a hard-hearted businessman. I look forward to discovering your softer side, Carver Heath, though not too soft, I hope."

"Carver!"

The resemblance between brother and sister was remarkable. The dark-haired woman who rushed down the steps of the quaint Colonial-style house and flew into his arms for an enthusiastic hug had the same determined angle to her chin and mouth. Her eyes missed nothing, not even Carver's hand resting on Gail's waist. Two small boys followed at her heels while her husband, Tom, waited on the open porch, leaning his six-foot frame against a pillar.

"Hi sis, hi Tom." Carver grinned as he extracted himself from her tight embrace. "Thanks for putting us up at such short notice. This is Gail."

Gail stepped forward to shake her hand, noting the similarities in facial structure and hair colouring with Carver. "Hello Jo. It's very kind of you to let me stay."

Her first impression as she gripped Jo's hand was that Carver had lied about phoning his sister. Jo's initial reaction was one of surprise but when Jo turned back to him with a wide grin and a definite nod of approval, Gail realised Jo thought they were a couple. She S.O.S'd him with a glance for support. He simply slipped a casual arm around her shoulders to compound the lie, leaving Gail thinking she'd been transported into a parallel universe. Carver's openly tactile behaviour only fed his sister's expectations.

"I'm so pleased to meet you, Gail" Jo led the way up the spacious wooden stairs to a cosy, lilac-themed guest room facing out across the bay.

"It's very kind of you to let me stay, Mrs Jackman. I hope I haven't inconvenienced you in any way."

"Not at all," the other woman smiled easily. "And please call me Jo. Carver doesn't normally introduce us to his girlfriends. I hope you don't mind, I've put you in separate rooms for tonight. I didn't know quite what your relationship with Carver was and he suggested you might be more comfortable in your own room. He's right next door."

"Thank you. That's perfect." Gail smiled to cover her embarrassment. No way would she be able to sleep with Carver, the ultimate in sexual temptation, in the room next to hers.

"How long have you known my big brother?"

Gail smiled. Carver's sister wasn't shy in pumping for more information on their relationship.

"Not very long," she replied. How could she admit that she'd only met him on the plane little more than sixteen hours ago? Perhaps it was better Carver enlightened his sister.

"Goodness. What a beautiful room," Gail enthused, sidestepping the issue. She crossed to the picture box window. It was hard not to be drawn by the panorama of the bay below. Even at night, the twinkling lights of the boats in the bay and in the murky distance, Sausalito, were spectacular. "Wow! What a view!"

Jo moved around the room touching odd knick-knacks and smoothing imaginary creases on the duvet cover. "Thank you. The house has been in Tom's family for several generations. I'd like to think that one of the boys will move in one day and raise their own children here."

Gail smiled. "I envy you living in such a beautiful location. San Francisco is one of my all-time favourite places in the world." Her words were heart-felt. The house had a wonderful homely feel, from the eclectic blend of modern and antique to the nooks and crannies stuffed full of board games and children's toys. It was odd to imagine the Carver she knew staying with family when he had business in San Francisco yet a taste of family life would certainly help keep him grounded.

"Why don't you drop your things and come down to supper. The boys are dying to meet you."

Gail followed Jo back across the landing. They passed Carver at the top of the stairs as he hauled the bags towards the bedrooms. Gail flashed him a meaningful look which he ignored to push the door to his room open with his right foot. He disappeared inside. OK, so she was on her own to face Jo's inquisition.

Deciding the best way to defend was to ask questions, Gail opened up her offence. "The boys are the spitting image of you and your husband. How old are they?" She followed Jo into the kitchen.

"Josh is eight and Adam is six. They adore their Uncle Carver, though they don't get the chance to spend too much time with him. When he's in California, he's always on business. That's why we're looking forward to celebrating Christmas with him at his house in Hong Kong this year. It will be the first time the boys have travelled long haul." She handed Gail a cheese platter and gestured to the dining table in front of the large wooden-framed patio doors overlooking the bay. The evening was still warm enough to have the doors open onto the view of the harbour below.

Despite her earlier misgivings, Gail found it easy to relax. It was clear Jo and Carver shared a close, light-hearted relationship which extended to Tom and the two boys. Josh and Adam vied for their uncle's attention all evening. Gail laughed at their antics. Perhaps Carver did have a softer side. One he only revealed to people he trusted. Suddenly she felt humbled and confused. She had agreed to a weekend with a red-hot sex god and ended up with a red-hot, sexy family man. Go figure.

For the hundredth time, Carver's eyes wandered in Gail's direction as she picked up her wine glass and settled back into her chair, laughing at something Tom had said. It felt good. Everything was right with his world. He'd taken a risk introducing her to Jo and it had paid off. Most of the women he had known would have objected to sharing a first date with his family. Not Gail. She fitted in perfectly, just as he had suspected she would, and she hadn't caved under the pressure of Jo's interrogation. He liked that she had the character to stand up for herself without offending others. If they had been alone, he would have taken her to bed by now, for sure, to explore every inch of her gorgeous body and lose himself inside of her. He still wanted to. Fortunately Jo, his little sister, was there to distract him.

"Well, you certainly are a dark horse, Carver Heath," she exclaimed, grinning at him.

He gave her a look, half-amusement, half-innocence.

"I don't know what you mean, little sis."

"Like hell you don't. If you won't tell me, I'll find out from Gail instead."

Gail flashed Carver another silent request for assistance.

This time he acknowledged her signal. "Before you give Gail the third degree, have you booked your flights to Hong Kong for Christmas yet?" He turned to his two nephews. "You know, I have to make sure Father Christmas knows where you are this year and what you want. Are you making a list yet?"

Both boys shook their heads. "Uncle Carver, we know about Father Christmas. We know it's just a story."

Tom stepped in. "Everything's booked. We fly out on the 23rd and will be there until just after the New Year. We're really looking forward to it, aren't we boys?"

On cue, his nephews fell on top of Carver, giggling with excitement.

"Don't think you can change the subject, Carver." Jo turned back to Gail. "What do you plan to do while you're here, Gail? If I know my big brother, he'll be working all hours on business. I can show you around if you like and give you the low down on him. I even have some baby pictures in the family album I can show you. You know, the ones where he's naked on a rug, showing off his assets."

Gail darted Carver a look of mock-horror, the light dancing in her violet-grey eyes. She was a little buzzed from the two glasses of wine she had consumed. She enjoyed watching him banter with his sister and brother-in-law. His character was so far removed from the sharp business-man persona he projected, or the predatory seducer from the plane. Here, he was a different man. Still as sexy as sin but warmer, less intimidating and infinitely more personable.

"Full marks for trying but Gail's here on business." Carver pushed his chair back from the table, a wriggling boy under each arm. "She works for Zeitlinger Bank in Hong Kong. She's here to manage the roll-out of a computer system installation."

Jo frowned. She knew her brother well. He was trying to play down his relationship with Gail yet there was no mistaking the hot sexual attraction between them. She tried a different tack. "How did you two meet? Gail mentioned you haven't known each other very long."

Carver caught Gail's eye across the table and held it for an imperceptible moment. The heat in his expression left her blushing and needy. "We met through business, and a mutual love of California wine," he replied. "Gail can't make her mind up whether she prefers full-bodied or light and fruity. Myself, I prefer full-bodied, full-flavoured. There's so much more to enjoy."

"Really? Are you a wine connoisseur, Gail?" Jo queried.

Gail laughed, in response to his joke. "I'm an amateur. But your brother has promised to educate me while I'm here. Starting tomorrow." Her smile was open yet Carver caught her meaning.

Jo turned back to Gail. "You haven't mentioned how long you are staying. Are you here for the weekend?"

Once again Gail's eyes swept to Carver for support. He wrinkled his nose, offering her a way out. Did she want safety in numbers or the promise of serious one-on-one, skin-to-skin experiences?

No contest. The lure of getting to know him better carnally won hands down. "I'm really sorry, Jo. I'd love to stay but the truth is, Carver and I planned to take a tour of the Sonoma and Napa Valley this weekend and after that I have to work. I'm only here till next Saturday to roll-out the new computer system then I'm travelling on to New York, and Europe."

Noting the genuine disappointment on Jo's face, Gail experienced a genuine pang of regret. It didn't need a woman's intuition to recognise that Jo was desperate to see him happily settled down, to experience the same fulfilment that she got from Tom and her boys. At last, Carver came to her rescue.

"Sorry sis, this trip came up unexpectedly," he said with enough affection to soften the blow. "As Gail mentioned, we have plans for this weekend – primarily getting to get to know each other better." The look he gave Gail as he reached across the table to take her hand spoke volumes. No one, least of all Gail, was left doubting his intentions.

Jo shot her husband a meaningful look. "Oh, don't mind us. We get the graphic picture. So, which wineries are you heading for this weekend?"

"We were thinking of following the Napa Valley Wine Train Route. Do you know of any good hotels in the area for tomorrow night?"

"I hear the Crakken Estate Inn in Calistoga is perfect for a romantic getaway. They also do weddings." Jo waggled her eyebrows at him.

Carver laughed. He was used to his sister's teasing. "Sounds perfect. Just what we are looking for."

Later on, after she'd helped Jo clear the table and load the supper plates into the dishwasher, Gail joined Carver on the outside porch. The evening had been fun, not at all what she had anticipated when she agreed to spend the weekend with him, but a welcome respite from the sizzling tension between them.

"So, the hard-nosed business man and infamous playboy enjoys family life. This isn't the Carver Heath I expected." She leant her hands on the wooden porch rail next to him and faced out across the bay.

"Are you disappointed?" He turned to study her face in the shadows and half-light of the porch then closed up behind her to trap her against the rail with his body and arms. Whoah, hold the horses! The sex god was back. His mouth nudged the nape of her neck and his firm body moulded hers without any pretence of his aroused state.

Gail held her breath. If his expression had been smouldering before, then his body made good on the promise of what was to come when they were finally on their own. She leant back into him. "No, I don't think you could ever disappoint me," she sighed, "though I may have to revise my initial impressions of you."

"You shouldn't believe everything you read in the papers. You should trust your own instincts more." His hands skimmed her body from her waist to the side of her breasts while his lips brushed against her ear.

It was sheer torture of the most pleasurable kind. She wanted to take those hands and place them on top her breasts, to feel his palms cupping their weight while his fingers played with her nipples. Hell, he could take her bent over the railings in full view of his family and the neighbours and she wouldn't have been more turned on than she was at that moment. A hint of a smile played about the corners of her mouth. By rights, she should have been playing it cool but with Carver, there was no need for pretence. By Sunday night she would be back to work with the some sizzling memories of a very hot man. A sexy fling was just what she needed at that precise time. "Right now, my instincts tell me you are a man who knows what he wants, and knows how to get it."

"Your instincts are correct. And you know what I want."

If the next-door neighbour hadn't appeared from his house with a faithful hound for an evening constitutional, god knows what would have happened. Arrests for public indecency most likely. Carver moved to one side and allowed her to regain a semblance of modesty.

"Why didn't you tell your sister the truth about us?" she asked. She was facing towards the house, with her back against the rail, so that she had to twist to see his expression. "It would have saved us a lot of embarrassment."

"That I allowed myself to be picked up on the plane by a complete stranger?" Carver waited for her to bite, a hint of a smile playing round the edges of his sensuous mouth.

Gail choked. "That's not fair. It wasn't like that, was it? It was your suggestion to spend the weekend together, no strings attached."

"You could have said as such to Jo if her questions were too much for you. Why didn't you?"

"Honestly? I really like her and I didn't want to offend her. She obviously cares for you. They all do. But I'm worried she thinks we're a couple."

"Well, the way I see it, we have two choices?"

"Two?"

"Yes. One, you can go in there and tell her that we've only just met. Or two, you can go along with a little white lie. Personally, I'd recommend the later option." He moved closer.

"Why?"

"Because then I can kiss you." He pulled her into his arms and kissed her long and hard. To Gail, it seemed to go on forever, banishing all sensible thought from her head, except for one. How much she wanted to make love with him. In a dream-like state, she pulled back to stare at him, her deep violet eyes shimmering in the half-light. She didn't know where their relationship was going, or if indeed they had one, but she sure wanted to take a voyage of discovery across every inch of his body, starting with his oh so seductive mouth and then working lower, over his chest and stomach, and...

Leaning in, she gave herself up to the pleasure of exploring his mouth. He tasted of wine and salty cheese, the alcohol on his lips kindling a fire somewhere beneath her breast bone. Following her instincts, she slid her tongue into his mouth and slipped her fingers beneath the buttons of his shirt to toy with the fine covering of hair across his chest. It was some time before they realised they had an audience.

A polite cough brought them to their senses.

"Whoah," Carver rasped as he broke away. "If we're going to make out on the porch I'd rather not have my sister, my nephews, and the rest of the neighbourhood watching us."

A heavy flush rose to her cheeks.

"Hey, don't be sorry, baby" he whispered as he ran his thumb across her kiss-swollen lips. "Just hold that thought, will you? We'll continue this later, just not tonight. I don't want to ask my sister or her husband if they have any condoms."

The next morning, by a consequence of serious coercion, Jo managed to get Carver alone in the kitchen while the rest of the family, and Gail, ate breakfast.

"You're holding out on me, Carver. I don't know any more about your relationship with Gail than when you first arrived. But I do like her so, whatever you do, make sure you hold on to her. She's perfect for you."

"Don't rush me, little sis," Carver responded, a wry grin on his face. "We've only just met. I don't want you scaring her off."

Jo landed a playful cuff on his upper arm. "As if I could. I saw the pair of you making out on the porch. You couldn't keep your hands off each other. Why did you ask for separate rooms, huh? I'm telling you, she's hot for you."

"Shame on you. You weren't supposed to be watching." Even so, he couldn't help the smile that crept over his face. He ran a hand through his hair, still-wet from showering. He'd spent a broken night's sleep peppered with the most erotic dreams he'd had in ages. He was optimistic for the day ahead and especially the night. "It's early yet. We're just getting to know each other."

As if on cue Gail appeared in the doorway, dressed casually in a shoe-string vest t-shirt and short denim skirt that showed off her sharply legs to perfection. She caught the look of conspiracy that passed between them. "Can I give you two a hand? The boys are clamouring for a game of basket ball."

"No, it's OK. Thanks for the offer, and don't worry about the boys. Carver tells me you're keen to be on your way."

A night with his family had put Carver in a good mood. He whistled softly through his teeth as he purposefully brushed against Gail to carry their overnight bags to the car.

Gail forced back her reaction to his physical contact and turned back to Jo. "Thanks for letting me stay. It's been lovely to meet you and Tom, and the boys."

Jo gave her a broad smile. "You're welcome. I hope we get the chance to meet you again. You're the best thing that's happened to Carver in a long, long time."

Chapter 3

The morning promised sunshine and a light breeze, rare in Northern California for the time of year. After a brief stop at the local mall, they were on their way again, with the soft-top down, Carver at the wheel, and the wind tugging Gail's hair. What more could she want? Especially when he pulled her hand across the gap between them to place it on his thigh.

Carver grinned. His plan had worked. She was relaxed and her guard was down. It was time for phase two of his strategy.

"Where would you like to start?"

She glanced at him from under her lashes, unsure how to take his meaning. Her insides were starting to churn again, his stare was so intense and his physical proximity had her nerve endings sizzling. "Carver, I think we should get something straight before we go any further."

Carver nodded. He'd been waiting for her doubts to emerge and knew just how to disarm them. "You're not the sort of girl who allows herself to be picked up by a total stranger or to embark on a weekend with "no strings attached"?"

Gail stared wide-eyed at his profile, shocked by his perception.

Carver focused back on the road. "Don't you think I know that already? Nothing is written in stone, other than the fact that you are a beautiful woman - one I'd really like to know better. Look, we're both consenting adults. I'm not married or attached, and I'm guessing you're not either, so let's enjoy the weekend. Whatever happens will happen because we both want it to. OK?"

Gail swallowed hard. "OK. We'll play it by ear then. I didn't want you getting the wrong idea about me. I like you, Carver. I like you a lot but..."

Carver cursed under his breath. Long legs, a cute ass and tits, the face of an angel, and a sudden attack of moral conscience. If he didn't do something soon he was likely to combust. "Sweetheart, if you look at me like that again, I'm going to have to stop the car and kiss you. The bee-stung look suits you very well." The next moment his expression was resolute. There was a pull off from the main highway just ahead which led up a dirt track surrounded on either side by dense forest. He turned in, brought the car to an abrupt halt and switched off the ignition. Then he twisted to face her, shaking his head. "Hell, I'm sorry. I can't go on like this. There's something I need to do."

Panic rendered her speechless. Had he changed his mind? Was he about to dump her in the middle of nowhere because she wasn't going to play ball? Before she could voice her concerns, Carver slide across the gap and claimed her mouth with a kiss so heated she felt the flames leap from his body to hers. When he drew back, his libido was partly-satisfied but not hers. Hers was only just starting up. She needed more of his kind of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation and pulled him back to drown in his heat.

When they finally broke for breath, he gave her a wickedly, sexy grin. "I've wanted to do that since I woke up this morning. Seeing you climb into the car in that short skirt and skimpy top has been absolute torture. Think yourself lucky that we are on our way to the wineries, or I might not be content to stop at just a kiss."

He restarted the ignition and began to reverse out of the track back onto the main road. Unable to speak, Gail stared at him. When he faced her again, he had a self-satisfied smile on his face. "So, which vineyard do you want to start with? Have you made up you mind yet?"

Gail blushed. The sudden sexual tension had her insides quivering and her mouth in gear before her brain. "For a hard-nosed businessman, you certainly know how to kiss, Carver Heath. Right now, I can't even think about vineyards."

One look at those deep violet eyes and his cock demanded he turn the car around. He put the gear into drive and retraced his route back up the path. "Fuck Gail, one minute you play cold then the next you turn up the heat. You can't do both. Come here." He kissed her again, taking the breath from her lungs, until she was hot and dizzy with need. To be fair, he felt the same way. Her kisses were potent, making him forget the hard-headed, carefully controlled person he prided himself on being.

Setting the hand-brake, he swung the car door open and strode around the car to haul her to her feet. "There's only one way to deal with this." In one simple movement her picked her up and threw her over his shoulder with one hand on her ass to carry her giggling into the forest. The view beyond the forest gave way to a field of vines stretched in neat endless rows ahead of them, dipping down as the rise of the hill gave way to a deep verdant bowl. There was no-one around for miles.

"What are you doing? Where are you taking me?" Her laughter immediately quelled when she realised his intention. They were completely alone, a man and a woman in a forest of Eden.

"Something I've wanted to do to you since the moment I saw you." His breathing was laboured, not through exertion but through maintaining his self-control, as he placed her back on the ground with her back against a broad tree and kissed her into submission.

When he finally came up for air, her breathing came out in short, sharp gasps as though she'd just been overpowered by a tremendous force of nature. "Wow, what happened to your resolve to show me your softer side?" His hands roved over her body, touching her face, her back, her breasts and hips, drawing her into him until they could have been fused as one single body. It was sudden, but his urgent passion was just what she craved.

"Baby, I'm too busy discovering your softer side. You're too sexy for words," he muttered against her mouth. "I can't wait any longer. One word and I'll stop. But I'm really hoping it's a yes because I don't think I'm going to survive the weekend without making love to you."

One look into her eyes was all it took.

"I'll take that as a yes, then."

Trembling with desire, she felt his hands remove her strapless bra then her vest top. There was nothing tentative about the way he kissed her nipples. He wanted her, period. And his mouth was so expert, her knees buckled. She started to moan as he sucked harder, not allowing her the pleasure of touching him until frustration and need gave her the strength to break free. She sought his mouth with impatience while her hands flew to the buttons on his shirt and to his body, firm and contoured beneath her fingers.

"Whoah. Slow down," he gasped, fighting to maintain control. His fingers curled around hers preventing her from descending into the waistband of his jeans. "I want us both to enjoy this."

"You don't hear me complaining, do you?" Gail protested.

"You will if I come too quickly." The evidence of his arousal was all too evident, straining against his jeans.

He pushed her back against the tree and kissed her again, ramping up the heat in steady increments until her whole body on fire. She was vaguely aware of the scent of warm grass and earth, and the gentle buzz of insects droning around them but the sensory experience was just a fleeting memory the moment he bent to take her nipple into his mouth again and bit down hard. Just like before, a bolt of pure pleasure shot from her breast to her sex collecting her brain, legs, womb and arms along the way. When she started to moan louder, grinding her hips against his pelvis, his teeth replaced his tongue, tugging on each of her nipples in turn until they stood erect and hard. He drew back to admire his work.

"My god, Miss Harrison, has any one mentioned you have a body to die for?" To emphasise his point, he traced a circle around each of her brown peaks with the pointed tip of his tongue causing her body to spasm in response. She wrapped her arms around his back and dragged him back. Every brush of his hand, every caress of his lips felt like exquisite torture. Desire pooled between her legs making her restless for release. She didn't have to wait long. As she reached for the buttons of his jeans, warm fingers traced down her ribcage, beyond the waistband of her skirt and dipped into her lace panties, to cup her mound. The heat from his hand sent her internal temperature soaring. She curved her hips to show him what she wanted and wasn't disappointed when he slid the miniscule piece of lace down past her ankles and knelt down to kiss the inside of her thighs, edging closer and closer to the place where she needed him most.

Jeezus. The man could kiss. She must have died and gone to heaven. The anticipation was so good, _he_ felt good as his expert fingers found all of her trigger points, working her up into a frenzy of desire. When his tongue joined the party she couldn't hold back. She orgasmed on his mouth twice in quick succession and surprised herself with the power of her release.

Carver rose to his feet to sheath himself. Firm hands went around her waist to lift her up and bring her down onto him slowly. Using the tree for support, he wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, and eased inside of her one slow and pleasurable inch at a time.

She was tight around him, tighter than expected. He waited, pressing his forehead against hers as he tried to breathe. "Baby, you're so tight. Try not to move. I don't want to hurt you."

Gail stared down between their bodies at his massive cock, buried not even half-way inside of her. Already she felt stretched beyond humanly possible. "Fuck, Carver. You could have warned me. You're going to split me in two."

"Not if you relax, baby. Trust me." His mouth found her mouth, her neck and breasts, encouraging her body to surrender to him before attempting to ease any further inside of her. Every inch caused her to moan, and even though his own need demanded he took her fast and furious, he took it slow. He had to. If he unleashed the full extent of his desire on her he would hurt her, for sure. Besides, she had him tighter than a clenched fist. And it felt fucking amazing.

As her body started to relax, enough to allow the blood to flow to his cock again, he rocked inside of her, slow but deep, increasing the rhythm until they both moaned simultaneously. Watching her face tense and flushed, and her lilac eyes glazed through half-lids, he gradually let loose to his passion, racing them both towards the precipice until the first waves of her orgasm washed over his cock. Clinging on for the ride of his life, he tensed, his face contorted with the effort of holding back, then he growled like a bear as his seed shot from his cock with repeated force.

He stayed with his forehead buried against her breast bone, his back hunched, supporting her with his arms against the rough bark of the tree trunk, for some time while he regained his composure. When he finally drew his head back to look at her, he saw a dazed expression in her eyes which he suspected was in his too.

"Fuck, Gail. That was amazing." He unwound her legs and placed her back on the ground. Suddenly, he looked contrite, his breathing still out of kilter. "I'm sorry. The next time will be better. I promise."

"The next time? Fuck, Carver, did you hear me complaining?" Her hands and legs trembled, totally uncoordinated, as she fumbled to replace her bra and pull her t-shirt back into place. Hell, he was better than good. He was amazing. Absolutely fucking amazing. She watched in awe, as he rolled the condom off his still semi-erect cock, impressed that they actually made condoms in his size.

It took some time before she found the strength to bend down and pick up her panties but instead of allowing her to slip them back on, Carver confiscated them, literally stealing them from her hands. He raised them to his nose and inhaled her scent then stuffed them into his pockets. When she tried to retrieve them, her hands vying to reach into his jeans, he gripped her wrists forcefully, his voice a command. "No, I want you naked beneath that skirt for the rest of the day."

Still shaking from her multiple-orgasms, Gail started to protest. Surely, he wasn't serious? She stared at him horrified. "I can't do that. We're supposed to be visiting the vineyards. People will see me. My skirt's too short for them not to."

"Don't worry," he replied coolly. "I'll make sure you aren't arrested for indecency. You'll have them back later or perhaps I'll keep them as a souvenir of the weekend." He loosened his grip to lead her back to the car.

Gail halted in her tracks. "Please, Carver. Stop joking. Give them back now. I can't go commando in public. I'm wearing a short skirt as if you hadn't noticed." Her hands went to her hips. She was determined not to move until he'd handed back her panties.

Carver's blue eyes flashed with amusement. "Oh, I've noticed alright." How could he not? For the last few minutes he'd been contemplating how she would look completely naked, and tied to a bed. How much more pleasure they would both have if he could to take his time to explore every inch of her delectable naked body until she begged him to fill her? And she would, because he would make her.

"The real question is, do you trust me?" He focused his laser-likes on her skimpy vest t-shirt knowing her next action would dictate the rest of the weekend.

Gail froze. She should have hauled her bags out of the car and hitched a ride to Napa but she didn't. Something about his command and control seduction technique excited the hell out of her. She'd met her match on the do-or-dare front. What he didn't know was that she still had one last ace to play. She folded her arms across her chest and widened her stance, just enough to offer a tantalising glimpse of the apex of her thighs. "You play real dirty, Mr. Heath."

He flashed an irrepressible, sexy grin and moved closer to slide a hand up the back of her skirt, to fondle her perfectly-rounded ass cheeks. "I'd like to play even dirtier with you, Ms. Harrison." To emphasis his point, he moved in to kiss her but she pulled her head back.

"I'll do what you want, on one condition." Her violet eyes shone with mischief.

"What's that?"

"That if I agree to your... request... you have to go commando too."

Carver laughed. It was a no-brainer, he won all round. "Agreed." He hauled her against him and fastened his mouth on her lips. Within seconds, he had her wanting and needing him all over again. When he released her, she shook her head. It was a gesture of partial-submission.

"I like the way you do business, Ms. Harrison," he rasped.

"So what are you waiting for? Take them off." She held out her hand. The thought of him wearing nothing under his jeans all day turned her on as much as not wearing any herself though, had she known what he had planned, she might have dressed differently before leaving Tiburon. "Give them up, "Mr. I'm an Incredibly Powerful Businessman". I'm not getting back in the car until you do, I promise you." She watched him lean his sexy butt against the car door and slide off his loafers. Slowly, he slid down the zip of his flies as though preparing for a strip-tease. The realisation that he was prepared to go through with her dare had her salivating. "Hurry up, I'm waiting."

Carver slipped off his jeans one leg at a time until he stood in front of her in just his polo shirt, socks and a pair of lycra hipsters that moulded every bump and ridge of his cock like a latex glove. He was clearly aroused again, the large tip of his cock peeked over the top in a bid for freedom. She stepped closer and slipped a finger into the waistband to take a peek, rolling her wet tongue over her lips in a gesture that almost had him popping his cork all over again.

When he heard her tut with apparent disappointment, a deep frown creased his brow. "What's the problem?" he asked affronted as she shook her head and studied his length and width in close up. He'd had no complaints from women before. He was larger than most in the equipment department. It wasn't a boast, simply the truth. And she hadn't objected earlier. Well, not for that reason.

Sighing for effect, Gail shook her head. Finally she looked up and held his eye while she slid her fingers down the length of his shaft to cup his balls in her palm. "Such a shame we can't put this to good use but you did promise me a tour of the vineyards this morning. So, get them off and we can be on our way."

Maintaining eye contact, she slid both hands into his jockeys, hooked her thumbs over the elastic waistband and pushed them slowly down over his hips until his erection sprang free between them. Bending lower, she eased his pants towards his knees until her face was on a level with his shaft. With her eyes still on his face, she allowed the hot, silky skin of his cock to glide across her mouth, her nose and hair then waited from him to step out of his pants, her warm breath tickling his balls. Just when his hands went to the sides of her head to slide into her mouth, she retrieved his jockeys, stood up and walked back to the car flashing her ass at him on the way.

"I intend to visit at least one vineyard this morning. Which is the nearest one?" she glanced at the map she found in the dashboard while he pulled his jeans and loafers back on. "Mumm Napa Valley? Mmmhh." She pursed her still swollen lips and stared at his erect cock, imagining circling the enormous head with her mouth. "I'd like to sample some of their sparkling wine."

Carver groaned. "You are a tease, Ms. Harrison. Be warned, I will have my revenge on you later. For now, I promised you vineyards and you wish is my command. How far are we?"

Gail sighed as she watched him tuck his cock back into his jeans and zip up carefully before getting back into the car. "Half an hour away at most, I think."

"Good, because if you carry on like that, I'm going to forget my promise and ravish you again."

With his underwear locked inside her handbag, and her panties stuffed in his pocket, Carver pulled the car back onto the highway. "Tell me where you want me to head to."

"You trust me to navigate?" Gail teased. "You don't know my map reading skills."

"You strike me as an intelligent woman and the trails are well sign-posted. I don't think we can go too far wrong, besides the car is fitted with GPS." He left her studying the map while he concentrated on manoeuvring through the busy weekend traffic. His body still buzzed from their encounter in the forest and he was very much aware of the seams of his jeans tight again around his underwear-free groin. Fuck, he wanted her again yet he'd promised her vineyards.

"So, which direction?" he asked after five minutes of strict mental control.

"Second star on the right and straight on till lunchtime." It was one of her favourite misquotes, from Peter Pan.

"Sounds good to me. Why don't you sit back and enjoy the scenery. You can hold my hand if my driving makes you nervous." Once again, he picked up her hand and planted it on his thigh.

Gail sunk back into her seat. The pale morning sun glinted through the trees causing a gentle strobe effect as they passed through a line of tall plane trees. In twenty-four hours, he'd managed to turn her life upside down and inside out. She couldn't believe how brazen she had behaved, stealing his pants and teasing him so shamelessly. Then again, she'd never fallen in lust at first sight before. The knowledge that their dalliance would last exactly another twenty-four hours gave her the freedom to indulge her fantasies. The ones that started the moment he stepped onto the plane.

"Why didn't you tell me we were going to stop over at your sister's last night?" she asked. "I thought we were heading for a hotel."

"Did you mind? I thought it might put you at ease, and I did promise to reveal my softer side."

"No, I didn't mind. It was just unexpected. Actually, it was nice. Thank you. I enjoyed meeting your family."

Her smile reminded him of hot summer nights and lazy picnic days. A weekend of wild sex with a beautiful, uncomplicated woman was just what he needed. He'd been working too hard over the last three years building up his business portfolio. He'd ignored his physical needs as a red-blooded man. Yet now, all he could think about was how soon he could have sex with her again, and want he wanted to do to her. He knew, from her impulsive nature, she enjoyed life to the full. She expected nothing more than a fun-filled weekend which gave him the freedom to push all the boundaries with her, knowing that come Sunday they would both walk away with no regrets, no promises - just a lot of very pleasurable, erotic memories that would burn up his dreams for many nights to come.

Seated under a large white umbrella, enjoying the warm autumnal rays, the first sip of cold, dry white sparkling wine hit the back of her throat and mainlined through Gail's veins. "Mmmhh, I like this one. It's crisp and biscuity."

Carver took a couple of sips from his glass and pushed it towards her. "I agree. We should order a case or two. You finish mine up. I won't be able to drive otherwise unless we have something more substantial to eat."

"I have a suggestion," she offered. She watched him tip his head back to study her, the sun bringing out mahogany tints in his dark hair, and allowed a smile to grace her lips when she remembered neither of them wore underwear.

Carver caught her meaning and smiled back, a glint in his eye. "And what would that be?" Whatever it was, it was bound to end up with both of them naked if he had his way.

"Why don't we have a picnic here? We can buy some food from the vineyard shop - some cheese and bread, some cooked meats, and eat inside the vineyards. I noticed a couple of picnic tables earlier."

"You don't want to go to a restaurant?"

"Not if we're eating out tonight. Besides, a picnic will be fun. You can tell me more about your softer side, maybe even show me." She giggled as the frothy bubbles went up her nose. Something about being in the company of a sex god made her lean towards her naughty side. She uncrossed her legs and flashed him a tantalising glimpse up her skirt, à la Sharon Stone.

Bubbles shot from Carver's nose as he tried not to choke. With an expression of pure innocence, she handed him a tissue. "How about it? Are you _up_ for a picnic?"

He wiped his face. "Babe, I'm so _up_ for it, you'd better beware. We'll head for the shop after we've finished sampling the wines." He took back his glass, downed it in one long draft and waited for her to finish. The things he planned to do to her when they were alone were distinctly x-rated.

Armed with freshly-baked bread, a selection of local cheeses, smoked salmon and cooked meats, salad and some fresh fruit, not to mention a tartan rug, plastic plates, glasses and cutlery, Carver ventured beyond the picnic tables to a sunny, secluded space in the heart of the vines. It was lunch-time and no-one else was around. More importantly, no-one could see them. He laid the tartan rug on the earth between the rows of vines and sat back on his heels to open a half bottle of the sparkling wine, the one she had preferred, and placed it in a cooler. He tugged her down onto her knees and helped her unpack the food. When it was all laid out in front of them, he fell back on the rug and pulled her on top of him to straddle his hips, his hands caressing her bare ass beneath her skirt.

"Did you see that man's face when I bent over to select the cheeses? I thought he was going to have a heart attack," she laughed as she bent to kiss him on the nose. God, he was good enough to eat, himself. She loved that he liked touching her. She liked touching him too. Just the thought of his naked skin made her feel wild and wreckless. She snuck her hands beneath the hem of his polo shirt and stroked his chest.

"I don't think heart attack was the response you elicited. I suspect the poor man had to go straight home for a cold shower. You are one brazen woman, Gail Harrison. Think yourself lucky I was there to spare your blushes."

She pulled upright to feed him a piece of cheese and sliced apple while he continued to massage her ass. "If by that you mean grabbing my butt any chance you could and rubbing yourself against me, then it didn't work. You are one very wickedly, sexy man, Carver Heath."

"In my defence, you kept on bending over so that I had to cover your ass. It's a very beautiful ass, I might add."

"Is that why you pinched my panties? You're a buttocks man?" She was getting wet at the pressure of his huge cock pressing against her through his jeans. When she bent forward to kiss his mouth the cool air blew across her exposed sex.

"I'm a buttocks, breast and leg man. And you score a perfect 10 in all categories." He sat up with her still on his lap and offered a glass of chilled wine to her lips. He allowed her to take a sip then set the glass down by the cooler to kiss her lips, drawing the alcohol from her mouth.

Gail shifted against him. Everything he did was so damned erotic. The alcohol buzzed through her veins as he held her gaze, his eyes lit with smouldering desire and a lazy smile tweaking the corners of his mouth causing her internal temperature to hitch to boiling point. She was desperate to feel him inside of her again. Her nipples jutted against the fabric of her bra and t-shirt. And when his eyes fixated on her hardened peaks, it was easy to imagine his mouth on them.

The last thing she expected was for him to sit up, pick up the glass and tip a large dash of ice-cold wine down the dip between her breasts. She jumped as the fizzy liquid hit her heated skin and streaked down the inside of her t-shirt to her belly button. So this was his idea of revenge. Her gasps soon turned to desperate moans as his mouth followed the trail of bubbles down her throat, to nuzzle the hot, wetness between her breasts. When he repeated the action, this time pouring the wine deliberately over her nipples and sucking thirstily through her vest-top and bra, she vibrated with need, grinding against his cock to quell her ache.

Kissing her mouth and the sweet dip between her neck and shoulder, Carver made light work of removing her top and her bra. He flipped her over onto her back against the rug. With his lags straddling her hips, he used her bra and panties inventively to secure her hands to one of the stakes supporting the vines. When she tried sit up he gave her a commanding look, forcing her to acquiesce to his control.

"This is hardly the "no strings attached" scenario you promised?" she laughed, as he knelt between her legs and tickled her breasts and then her pussy with a blade of grass. "I'm beginning to think you have a penchant for sex outdoors."

"Baby, I have a penchant for sex with you, period. Anytime, anywhere, anyhow. I'm highly-sexed and highly-skilled in the ways of pleasuring a woman, as I hope you will allow me to demonstrate to you during the course of this weekend."

Despite being tethered, Gail giggled at his boast. His sexual prowess was beyond dispute. It amused her to hear him voice it though. "And do you always get your own way, Carver?"

"If you don't like something, you can always tell me to stop. I'm a gentleman. I will respect your wishes." He waited for her to utter the word. "But I think you like it too much. You like me pushing your buttons. I'm only helping you to explore your secret desires. Just think of me as a doctor."

Gail burst into laughter as he pressed his ear again her heart and pretended to take her pulse. "What if someone comes along and sees us?"

"Isn't that part of the thrill? Having an audience? Your body is mine to do with as I want."

Leaning over her prone body to kiss her breasts, he slipped his fingers inside her, swirling and dipping so gently against all the right places, it was difficult for her to think about anything other than the steady rhythm controlling her body.

"Do you trust me?" he asked. He stilled his fingers and waited for her to nod. "Then let me make love to you, as you deserve to be made love to."

"Yes, Doctor," she whispered huskily into his mouth.

The smile on his face was sexy beyond belief and his voice heavy with seductive promise. Tethered and unable to move, Gail could only watch in rapt silence, as he picked up the glass of sparkling wine and dribbled it over her breasts and stomach, taking his time to lick, kiss and suck wherever the wine touched until she was trembling with anticipation. Then he eased her skirt down past her hips until she was completely naked on the blanket, her body bathed by the warm rays of the autumnal sun. Placing chunks of cheese and fruit on strategic points of her body to feast on, he nipped at her breasts, her throat, her stomach, and mouth, and in between fed her morsels of cheese and bread by hand. She accepted everything he gave her, even licking the food from his fingers as though they were his cock, when seconds before they'd been buried deep inside of her.

Carver watched her, mesmerized. There was something so provocative about the way her hot, pink tongue darted eagerly in between and around his digits, lapping up the taste of her own sex. He promised himself, there and then, to discover every one of her secret desires and make them happen. He could be gentle or rough, whatever she wanted. The thought turned him on more than he expected. Sure, he'd had numerous women in his thirty-five years, but no-one had stirred his secret, sexual desires like the woman beneath him at that precise moment.

Ramping up the sexual tension, he picked up the glass of wine and dribbled it across the soft plane of her stomach and mound, watching the liquid fizz against her heated skin and light covering of hair until it dripped into her slit. When he knelt between her legs and bent his head to kiss her sex, the tension was clearly depicted in her deep violet eyes. She wanted him to taste her. She wanted to come apart on his mouth. And that's just what he wanted too.

Using the flat of his tongue, he collected each drop of moisture with several targeted sweeps. He felt her body spasm with each brush, smelt her unique smell, and tasted the sweet honey leaking from her centre. Hell, even the silky smoothness of her tight core, blew him away. He pushed her wider and supported her lower back and buttocks, enjoying how she writhed and bucked against his lips while his tongue and fingers probed deeper inside of her. Her cum coated his taste buds and the scent of her arousal surrounded him. His cock throbbed, wanting to sheath its girth and length inside of her, but giving her pleasure, hearing the soft, tortured moans that came from her lips became his obsession. Placing her legs around his neck, he pushed gently down on her stomach to hold her still while his tongue relentlessly drove her from one orgasm into another until her body went limp.

He bit down the inside of her thigh lightly as she trembled in his hands. It was almost too much, yet still she needed more. "I want you inside of me. Now." she begged. "Please, Carver."

He took a foil packet from his pocket and sheathed quickly. He was so fucking hard he suspected he wouldn't last more than a few seconds inside of her. He wanted to pound against her ass and come buried to the hilt inside of her.

"Turn around, sweetheart. On your hands and knees."

With his help, she positioned herself as he asked, with her buttocks high and her face pressed against the blanket. She was a beautiful sight with her buttocks framing her flushed, swollen sex and her full breasts hanging from her slender rib cage. The moment he entered her, he lost all pretence of self-control. The fantasies he'd conjured up at the airport as he watched her bend over her bags became a reality better than he could ever have imagined. He bit her neck, tweaked her nipples, and thrust inside her so hard, he didn't know where he started and she finished. This time she was ready for him, still tight but a perfect fit, and when she clenched around his cock and wrung him hard, the moment of climax was intense for both of them. It was some time before Carver could withdraw. He discarded the condom, lay her back down on the ground to release her hands and caressed her face, neck and stomach until she could breath normally again.

Her body spent, Gail stared up at the sky - perfect shades of blue leading to infinity. Words were inadequate to describe what she had just experienced. Sex with Carver was wild and dangerous. He could make her beg just by touch alone, unlike her previous lovers. He pushed her boundaries, took her beyond her comfort zone and encouraged her to voice her secret desires, even demand what she wanted from him, yet, at the same time, she felt worshipped as a woman, physically exposed and completely liberated.

The vague buzz of voices in the distance brought her back down to earth. Quickly, she slipped on her vest top and wriggled into her skirt.

"Is it always like this?" She took the glass of sparkling wine he offered and tucked her hair behind her ears, still shaken by her sexual awakening. Even though she was sated by his lovemaking, her body experienced withdrawal cravings. It was official! After today, sex with anyone less than a sex-god, aka Carver Heath, would never be enough for her.

"Like what?" Carver smiled. OK, so he didn't need to fish for compliments like a cheap date. He knew what she meant. He'd felt the connection too but preferred to keep things light. "Baby, if that's what's going to happen each time we have sex, I can't wait to check into our hotel. Here's to us and a very enjoyable weekend."

Content to be in each other's company, they idled over the rest of their picnic. Time passed quickly. After they'd packed away the remnants of their picnic, they made their way back to the car to continue their journey to the next vineyard. Gail was lost in thought, still musing on Carver's ability to have her creaming her panties with just one look and his talent for to delivering not just one five star orgasm but multiple, screaming orgasms to boot. She was hooked, and a little shocked.

To discover that she enjoyed being tied up and relinquishing control to him had been a turn-on she hadn't expected. It had to be him. No one else had ever made her come with such explosive force and abandon. He was definitely an expert when it came to pleasuring a woman. His fingers and tongue had probed each one of her orifices and she'd loved every minute. Lianne, her flat-mate and colleague, would be scandalised. Gail Harrison, the professional, ultra-staid HR Manager, had turned into a sex-crazed nymphomaniac.

To take her mind off her disturbing thoughts, she forced herself to think of the primary reason for his trip to the Napa Valley. "Have you set up your business meeting for tonight?"

"Yes, I contacted John first thing this morning."

Gail cast him a discrete glance. His face was serious as he focused on the route.

"Do you enjoy what you do, Carver?"

A sexy chuckle rumbled from his throat. "What do you think? Would I still be a business angel after thirteen years if I didn't enjoy it?"

"It's not just about money, then?"

Carver switched his eyes from the road to study her. "Is that what you think? That money is all I care about?"

He kept his face light, but she knew, without intending to, she had offended him. It was none of her business yet something inside of her refused to back down, sensing that the balance of their relationship would be set in his favour if she didn't stand her ground. It was important, for her own sense of worth, especially after submitting so readily to his sexual control. She needed to show him that she was strong in her own right, to take back some of the power she had given him, albeit freely. She softened her response. "No. I didn't mean it like that. I just wondered... The newspapers say you are one of the best entrepreneurs in this business. I wanted to know what makes you tick."

Determination defined the set of his jaw as he returned his attention to the traffic ahead. "I started investing while at University. Several of my peers came up with ideas for a new technology but needed money to develop it. I had just inherited a sizeable amount of money from my grandparents so, rather than fritter it away on alcohol, gambling and loose women, I offered it to to my friends to help start up a company. The company was a success - still is - and since then I have a vested interest in every company I set up or acquire. Call it pride, call it what you like. I don't believe in creating companies just to sell them off to the highest bidder the moment they turn a profit. That's the reason why I am here in California right now. One of my more mature companies is under threat from a hostile takeover bid. I plan to turn the tables. Either offer an alternative proposal or buy up the rival company."

It was the first real glimpse he'd offered of his business persona. In full flow, he was riveting, a blend of power, conviction and passion. He gave total commitment to every project he believed in, be it business or pleasure, and always one hundred per cent of himself. The knowledge made her smile. "What does this company do?"

He exhaled audibly. "I knew you would ask me that and I'd rather not discuss it right now. The negations are likely to be difficult and I need to learn more about John's plans."

"I see." Which, of course, she didn't. "In that case, maybe it's best if I don't join you for dinner tonight. You have a lot to discuss. I would only be in the way."

Carver tilted his head to look at her. Her eyes were averted from him as she stared out of the window. He guessed they were deep violet, sparking like her mood. He picked up her left hand and raised her palm to his mouth to kiss the soft fleshy mound beneath her thumb, while keeping his other hand firm on the steering wheel.

"Let's put it this way. If I told you now, I'd have to kill you. And I'd rather not do that. Not when we're just getting to know each other." His mouth formed what he hoped was a winning smile. "Besides, this evening's meeting is more about getting to know the competition, sizing them up, finding out their strengths and weaknesses. With your background in HR, your experience of people will be invaluable."

Gail remained unmoved by his charm. "I'm serious, Carver. Just because I agreed to spend the weekend sight-seeing with you, it doesn't mean we're obliged to remain in each other's company for the whole forty-eight hours. I can order room service. I don't want to get in the way of crucial business discussions."

"You won't, and I wouldn't dream of letting you dine alone. Besides, the presence of a beautiful woman will ensure the discussions remain polite."

He curled his fingers around her hand and dropped it back onto his thigh. The heat of his skin burned through the fabric of his pants. Whether intentional or not, her hand rested not far from his groin and close enough to be aware of the swell of his cock. The gesture was not lost on Gail. He had shut her out of his business affairs for the time being but his gesture revealed the effect she had on him. He wanted her and, for one weekend, that would have to suffice. "I get it. You want me to seduce John while you move in for the kill."

"I wouldn't go as far as that. But you can certainly distract him."

"Do I distract you?" Sheer devilment made her ask. She had a feeling he enjoyed parrying with her verbally almost as much as he enjoyed making love.

"Baby, you don't know how much. If I hadn't promised to take you on a tour of the vineyards we would be checked into our hotel right now and working our way through the box of condoms I bought earlier. But for you, I'm trying to work on my softer side."

She couldn't stay mad at him for long. She grinned. "I can help you, if you like? I'm an expert, you know."

Carver tipped back his head and laughed. "Baby, you can help me discover my softer side any day of the week. In fact, I'm looking forward to you helping me work on it later."

"Carver, I..."

Carver stared at her bowed head. What the hell? She'd got him worked him up and needy with innuendos only to have second thoughts again. Too fucking late. For all her impulsiveness and provocative teasing, she was suddenly scared. Of what? He knew she wasn't the type to sleep around. He'd realised that the previous night. And the first time they'd made love had reinforced his opinion. She'd been too tight, too quick to orgasm despite having the kind of body that would make a monk break his vows of celibacy. He wanted to rectify that. He wanted to find out how much pleasure she could take. He wanted to discover the things she liked most. Hell, he wanted her, period. There was only one way to make her see sense.

"Listen, Gail. I know this is a bit wild and reckless - for both of us. But I'll make no apologies for the fact that I find you an incredibly sexy woman. I want to get into your pants and fuck you senseless until we were too tired to sleep, and I know you feel the same way too. So let's not waste time fighting about it. We have one weekend. I'm not going to kiss and tell afterwards, and I trust you won't either."

Her head bucked. Despite his explicit talk, he'd seen right into her heart again and called her bluff. His frank assessment was disconcerting, making it difficult to check her emotions. "If I'm supposed to take that as a compliment, I'm afraid your ego has got the better of you. Have I ever given you the impression that I accepted your invitation this weekend purely on the pretext of having sex with you?"

An expression akin to amusement crept across his face. "Sweetheart, after what we're been up to today, there's no doubt in my mind. Let's face it. We both knew what we were getting into the moment I sat next to you on the plane. There's no point in denying it, so don't pretend otherwise."

His reflexes were quick. He caught her raised hand and pulled her across the seat into his side, waiting for a break in the traffic to kiss her. When he withdrew his mouth from hers they both ached for satisfaction. The trouble was Carver was still driving.

Gail was the first to recover. "I'm sorry. I overreacted, didn't I?"

Carver gripped the steering wheel and stared ahead, relieved. What was it about her that had his blood sizzling in his veins at the slightest touch? OK, he was attracted to her, big time yet she could drive him crazy with frustration. At that precise moment, he wasn't sure whether one weekend would be enough. Lured by a sexy body, a beautiful face and everything else about her, he couldn't help himself and didn't want to. A sane man would drop her off at the nearest train station and refocus on his original business plans. But sane was last thing Carver felt. His skin burned, his balls ached, and the desire to fuck her until he was completely spent weighted each action and decision, as though he was a hormonally-challenged teenager.

Throughout the rest of the afternoon Carver waged an inner crusade to keep his mind off her body and the prospect of more wild sex when they reached the hotel, and more on getting to know her better. It was an almost impossible task. He enjoyed making her laugh, enjoyed coaxing the sexy sound that vibrated through his groin and up through his spine. He loved the way her eyes flashed when he stirred her up about something she believed in. It reminded him of how they glowed with passion. She had a quick, agile mind which appealed to his adventurous, risk-taking nature.

Fortunately, by the time they reached their hotel for the evening, the atmosphere between them was relaxed and bordering on playful again. His body fairly hummed with expectation for what might happen once they checked into their room.

The setting of the Crakken Estate Inn was awe-inspiring. A series of small, very private cottages nestled against a lush, green backdrop of trees, shrubs and highly scented flowers. Surrounded on all sides by rows and rows of vines, it was a feast for the senses and summoned up memories of the sexy interlude they had shared between the vines earlier. A porter carried their over-night bags from the car and drove them in a golf buggy through the colourful gardens to a large and very secluded wooden lodge hidden amongst a forest setting.

The level of luxury that greeted Gail when he pushed back the front door was on a scale she had never experienced before. She thanked her lucky stars they were only staying one night. Even sharing half the costs, accommodation like this would max out her credit card and leave her watching her budget for the next two months.

Gauzy, white curtains shimmered at the full-length windows, ruffled by a light breeze. Wandering from room to room, the lodge was airy and bright, so bright it felt like walking into a sun-soaked cloud. Her eye was immediately drawn to the master bedroom and the larger-than-king-size bed, covered in crisp, white cotton sheets and a matching coverlet. The rest of the furniture was smooth, pale maple, the predominant colour scheme white, with touches of colour supplied by bowls of roses and scented candles.

While Carver tipped the porter, Gail stepped into the en-suite bath-room. Gleaming white porcelain, from the large spa bath for two, the dual wash-basins and the toilet, was offset against huge fluffy white towels and a full-length mirror. As per the other rooms, the accessories were made of the same pale maple wood. Scented candles were set into the ledge surrounding the sunken bath.

Stepping back into the bedroom, Gail noticed that the full-length windows led out onto a small, raised wooden decking with a sunken hot-tub, screened by potted shrubs for total privacy. A compact wet-bar and a small fridge were discretely positioned alongside the tub. The whole lodge had been designed with relaxation and sensual pleasures in mind. "Wow, this is beautiful, Carver. You must thank Jo for her recommendation."

Carver joined her in the bedroom and started to unpack his business suit and a fresh white shirt and tie. He hung his clothes in a cleverly concealed walk-in wardrobe. Again, there were full-length mirrors, this time on three of the walls. He returned to the bedroom, apparently distracted. "What do you plan to wear to dinner tonight?"

"I have a dress which I had planned to wear for a family party when I get to the UK. It's quite dressy, so hopefully it will do for tonight."

"Why don't you lay your clothes for tonight out on the bed and I'll help you dress."

Gail frowned. "But it's early yet. I thought you said we were meeting John at eight p.m. It's only four o'clock now."

"I know. But that's barely time enough for what I have in mind before we meet up with John." When he looked up, he had a wicked glint in his eye which Gail was beginning to recognise. "Lay your outfit on the bed and take off your clothes."

"You're very authoritative, Mr. Heath. What if I say no?" She enjoyed challenging him, enjoyed rattling his self-assurance.

Carver smiled an artful smile and turned his back on her. "Then it's your loss, sweetheart." He removed his polo shirt, revealing a set of beautifully sculpted shoulder blades and defined back muscles that made her mouth water. When he shrugged off his jeans, leaving him completely naked and sporting the biggest erection she had ever seen, Gail's jaw went slack. Carver laughed at her expression. "Still saying no? Or would you like to join me in the shower?"

It was the first time she had seen him completely naked and his body was everything she had fantasised it to be from the moment he stepped into business class and sat next to her. He was confident in his nudity. The man didn't parade in front of her. He simply took up every inch of space and air in the confined room. The full-length mirrors on three sides displayed his impressive body from all angles.

Her head swam. Was it her imagination, or did those mirrors magnify everything? His cock, his perfect, muscular ass and thighs seemed larger, even more delectable, if that was at all possible. When he walked towards her and lifted her hair from her neck to plant a light, wet kiss behind her ear, his erection nudged against the hem of her skirt. She moaned out loud, revelling in the warmth that shot from her neck to her core.

"Let's get rid of these clothes first." With a hungered expression in his eyes, Carver removed her vest t-shirt, slipping the straps slowly over her shoulders, and kissed the path left bare. He moved to the soft flesh above her breasts and razed his mouth and tongue across the tops, leaving a trail of goose-bumps in his wake. Then he undid her bra and dropped it to the floor.

"Beautiful, so beautiful," he muttered reverently against her skin.

Slowly, with subtle coercion from his mouth and hands, he twisted her round. Her flushed reflection stared back at them, the faintly tanned skin of her breasts and darker aureoles contrasting against his olive skin. He looped his fingers into the waistband of her skirt and slid it past her hips to drop to the floor leaving her completely naked. Then he dropped a kiss on her shoulder, allowing his gaze to linger on her breasts and mound reflected in the mirror.

"Follow me." Taking her by the hand, he led her into the bathroom and turned on the shower taps in the wet room.

Gail barely noted the array of high-class beauty preparations lined up on a shelf by her head. She was only aware of Carver stepping in behind her, his erection hard against her ass as the water cascaded over her head and body. She eased back into him, enjoying her first full skin-to-skin contact with him. The smell of almonds and mangoes, and a multitude of other fruits and spices she couldn't name, hit her senses and then his hands were in her hair, massaging shampoo deep into her scalp. His gesture was intimate and extremely personal. "You've done this before," she moaned appreciatively.

"I was taught the art of Japanese head massage by a master. Another one of my hidden talents. Just relax. If you feel dizzy, lean back against me."

After five minutes of the most sublime massage she had ever experienced, she was putty in his hands. Her scalp tingled. Her mind and body floated somewhere high above the Milky Way. She felt his fingers stab and comb through the length of her hair, easing out the tangles. Just when she thought he had finished, something harsh and wonderfully scented reached around her torso and scratched her nipples causing her to start. The next moment his fingers caressed the tender skin.

"Keep still, and do as you're told," his voice rumbled against her ear.

She could swear he was smiling as her nipples pebbled at his touch. He reached down to link his fingers with hers and raised them above her head. All the time she was aware of his silky-smooth erection nudging against her buttocks, or between her thighs. The experience of his soft hands contrasting against the roughness of the loofah against her stomach, across her breasts and neck, and down the sensitive insides of her arms, supporting her, caressing her, while his mouth nuzzled her back and neck, was blissful beyond belief. She squeezed her thighs together to trap his cock between her legs, and submitted to the sensation of him rocking against her sensitized lower lips.

"Not yet, baby. First I want to explore every inch of your luscious body."

Just when she thought it couldn't get any better than his hard flesh pressing against her sex, Carver turned her to face him and got down on his knees, the water streaming over his back. Gently and with utmost care, he slid the loofah between her legs and massaged her inner thighs. Each time she moaned and pulled back from the roughness against her sensitive lips, he held her in place with a hand splayed across her buttocks and his mouth against her stomach, the water raining down his perfect back and ass.

"Open wider," he commanded.

Without understanding why, she obeyed without protest. He worked the loofah up and down the inside of her thigh, then caressed the sensitive skin with his fingers each time brushing higher and higher until he targeted her sex again. This time he penetrated her with his fingers, causing swirls of desire to heat up her insides. Moaning, she rocked against the rhythm of his hand, encouraging him, needing him so much that when he left her hanging she growled in frustration.

Carver stood up and slapped her buttocks with a firm hand then turned her round to admire the pink tinge on her cheek. "Has anyone told you, you are one impatient woman?" He led her out of the shower and grabbed a large white towel and a bottle of body oil from the ledge before proceeding to the bedroom. Instead of enveloping her in the towel as she expected him to, he pulled up a chair to face the full-length mirror and spread the towel on the seat to sit down. He pulled her towards him, her glistening wet breasts on a level with his mouth, his hands on her hips. When he produced a razor from nowhere, Gail panicked.

"Come here."

"What are you going to do with that?" She pushed back against his shoulders.

Carver laughed. "Trust me. It's very liberating and will make sex more sensual than you could ever image. I promise you're going to love it. Just spread your legs and close your eyes."

"You say the sweetest things," she mocked but again she had no choice. He held her tight while he pressed his lips against the undersides of her breasts. She felt his fingers massage sweet scented oil into her mound and between her legs, the sweet calm before the eventual storm, then, without warning, he stood up, raised her arms back above her head and dragged the razor over her arm-pits, ridding her of any light residue of fuzz that had grown there since the last time she had defuzzed. Her eyes flicked open.

"I thought you were going to shave my err..."

"I am. It will make stimulation a greater experience for both of us, I promise. I wanted to make sure you trusted me first." He trailed his hands down her sides and pulled her close to kiss her neck and mouth until once again she couldn't think straight. Just when she started to relax, and enjoy the sensation of his erection against her stomach, he sat back down on the chair and held the razor over her mound. "Do as I say and you won't get nicked."

It only took a matter of minutes to remove all signs of hair from her mound and around her sex but Carver was thorough. It was a novel experience having someone else shave her most private places but it was also incredibly sensual, the way he handled her, spreading her legs, draping her leg over his shoulder to reach between her thighs, the way he lovingly touched and admired not only his own work but the canvas he worked with. When he finished he slapped her on the buttocks and kissed her freshly shaved skin. "I told you I'd be careful. Now I can dry you off properly."

Bemused that she'd actually allowed him to shave her sex, she physically trembled when he blazed a trail from her mound to the underside of her breast with his mouth, collecting the moisture from her skin. His actions weren't urgent or demanding but delivered sex-tingling pleasure all the same. When he wasn't sucking or teasing her flesh with his teeth, his hands swept over her, rubbing scented oil into her skin, the same he had used to shave her. He worked on her breasts, rolling the fleshy mounds between his palms, worked on her stomach, then her legs and buttocks, covering the outsides and insides. Hell, she even let him dribble oil into her ass crack and rub it into her puckered hole and didn't complain. She let him because she loved the erotic sensations he aroused.

Touching him was a different story. His cock reared rock hard in front of her begging to be touched yet each time she reached down to circle the tip with her fingers, he turned her away to face the mirror. Finally he stood up behind her. Her scalp and skin buzzed with anticipation.

"That's not fair. Why won't you let me touch you?" she complained.

Carver ignored her question. "Don't move," he rasped.

Wiping his hands thoroughly on the towel, he left her studying her hairless sex in the mirror and crossed the room to pick up her overnight bag. Without asking, he emptied it in one heap onto the bed and sorted through her clothes. When she protested he ordered to stay where she was, making it clear he expected her to obey. "We've only just started."

Bemused, she watched him select the lilac wrap-over dress she had planned to wear to her parent's fortieth wedding anniversary party, a matching bra and panties set, and finally a pair of stockings and suspender belt. He laid each item neatly on the bed with utmost care and repacked the rest of her things in her bag. For one heart-stopping moment, she thought he intended to try them on. It wasn't something she could honestly admit turned her on but the sight of his tight balls swinging between his legs and his magnificent cock as he bent over did, as did his sculpted ass cheeks. Built like that, he'd never fit into her clothes.

At the base of her overnight bag he found a pair of plain black high-heeled shoes. When he returned to kneel at her feet, encouraging her to use his shoulders as support, she realised his true intention.

Buffing the surplus oil from her body with a towel, Carver picked up the suspender belt, a black lace concoction with lilac embroidered roses, and fastened it across her hips while his tongue dipped into the slit of her sex. At first all he could taste was the bitter scented oil, but as he pushed the point of his tongue deeper he caught her unique taste again. He heard her moan, felt her nails grip his shoulders and smiled.

Satisfied with the snug fit across her hips and buttocks, he lifted her foot into his hands and sucked her toes, then kissed her ankle and up the inside of her thighs before sliding each stocking up her legs to fasten them to the suspender belt. Fuck, she was beautiful naked but clad only in black stockings, suspender belt and high-heeled shoes she was his ultimate sexual fantasy. He deliberated his next move. The moment was all about pleasure, the maximum erotic pleasure she could take before he finally entered her.

Gail swayed. She was fast reaching sensory overload as he kneaded her buttocks while his hot, teasing mouth made love to her breasts and stomach. He made her feel worshipped and desired and she wanted to do the same for him. His cock pulsed against her leg yet, each time she tried, he still he refused to let her touch him.

Resigned to his game, she opened her eyes and watched the play of muscles in his back and tight ass reflected back at her in the mirror. She could not take her eyes off the potently sexy image. "Who said men couldn't multi-task?" she sighed and was rewarded by his most wicked grin yet.

"Baby, I'm just warming you up for the main event."

"I'm not sure if I have the stamina to last," she sighed.

"Then we'll take this as slow as you like, sweetheart."

One by one, he slid a high-heeled shoe over her toes until she was the perfect height for his cock to slide between her legs and across the entrance of her sex. He teased her with slow, rocking strokes causing her to grip his hips with both hands as her knees buckled.

"Look at yourself, baby. See how beautiful you are," he muttered in her ear. He guided her hands from his hips onto her breasts, still slick with a residue of oil and encouraged her to rub herself. "So beautiful. Does that feel good? Show me how good it feels, baby." He used her own fingers to massage her nipples, already ultra-sensitive from the loofah workout earlier, and smiled back at her reflection when they jutted into hard peaks. "Don't stop, I want to watch you make yourself come."

Gail blushed. "I can't, Carver. I feel silly."

He nuzzled her neck with his mouth, while his erection nuzzled against her sex. "You don't. You look incredibly sexy. Just see how your body responds." He slid one of her hands from her breast, across her stomach, past the suspender belt, and into her hair-free mound. Guiding her fingers, he made her massage the wet folds of her sex then pressed her fingers against her clit.

The reflection that stared back from the mirror surprised her. She saw a strange woman flushed with heavy arousal. Carver stirred behind her. She could tell from his own irregular breathing that watching her masturbate was as much a turn on for him as it was for her. She loved the way his eyes burned into her, alighting on her breasts, her face, her hairless sex. He was right. It was more sensitive, more exciting without hair. Her inner sex goddess emerged. She hooked a leg behind his thigh, so that he could see more clearly, and dipped her fingers deeper.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered against her neck, his hands working in unison with hers. "I love watching you."

He prised open her lower lips so that they could both watch her fingers plunging into her slick core, while his cock thrust against her ass. With one hand pressed into the small of her back her tipped her forward from the waist then grabbed her hips to back her into him. Just when she thought, even hoped he would penetrate her fully, he sat back down on the chair and pulled her by the hips towards him. Reflected in the mirror, she saw his face draw close to her ass.

The anticipation was too much. Her juices flowed freely from her sex and dripped down her inner thighs towards her stocking tops. God, if he didn't do something soon, she would surely combust. With frantic fingers, she rubbed her clit to ease her need. And just when she didn't expect it, she felt his hot breath fan across her shaved lips, felt his thumbs prise her open then his long, elegant fingers joined hers to slide in and out as he spread her legs with his knees. At last, she could almost breathe again. But not for long. As his tongue lapped up her juices from the tops of her stockings to her glistening wet slit, and up to tease her puckered ass-hole, the aching need for him to fill her spiralled out of control. She backed into his face, demanding everything he could give her.

In the midst of her ecstasy, the reflection in the mirror caught her eye. He was watching her. The stark image of him stimulating her ass and sex, his deep blue eyes flaming and devouring her need, was powerfully erotic. She had never watched herself being made love to nor spent time studying herself nude. What she saw were full breasts on a slender body with the nipples extended into stiff jutting peaks. Long hair, still wet from the shower, clung to a face utterly given over to ecstasy, deep violet eyes were half-glazed and her mouth was open, drawing short, shallow breaths.

The woman in the mirror, dressed in black silk stockings, a suspender belt framing her abdomen, was being orally seduced by her olive-skinned lover, a god-like being with a massive erection jutting from his groin. That woman, chic and sophisticated yet untamed and wanton, moaned and begged to be filled. That woman was held captive by deep-penetrating fingers and an erotic tongue that brought pleasure and pain in equal measure. That woman cried out for more.

Her release built quickly, rising within her core and radiating out in crashing waves that took her over the edge with such force, the power of it overwhelmed her. And still he didn't stop. As she shattered into a thousand pieces, he held her firm by the hips and forced every last spasm from her body, inserting the pointed tip of his tongue inside of her again and again as she cried out his name.

"Carver, please. No more. I need you inside of me now." His expert foreplay had taken her to a crescendo. There was only one act of pleasure left - the ultimate. She had to feel his cock inside her fast or she'd go out of her mind. She knew he was smiling when his warm breath brushed against her buttocks.

"Don't you like this?" His free hand slipped up her stomach and caressed her breasts, rolling her silky-soft, pliant skin between his fingers.

"Yes, I do," she whimpered. Her breasts were ultra-sensitive. Correction, her entire body felt like a mass of ultra-sensitive nerve endings. "It's too much. I need you inside of me, now. Please Carver, don't make me beg."

"OK, but I'm warning you. You are so beautiful, so perfect, it's going to be a race to the finish line. You've got me so hard."

"I don't care," she panted. The longer he made her wait, the worse her need got. She clawed at his shoulders in desperation. "Please, Carver, it's what I want. Fuck me hard and fast."

He planted one final kiss on her sex and stood up behind her. The head of his cock was wet and ready. It took him seconds to roll on a condom then he manoeuvred her into position, bent over the chair. The mirror reflected everything as his thick cock hammered in and out. His buttock and leg muscles clenched as his hips rolled back and forth. She tightened her muscles around his girth and mourned the loss of his hard heat when he withdrew. Each time he pushed deeper she felt him against her womb, not hovering or teasing as before but possessing her completely just as she possessed him. His arm snaked around her stomach. His fingers found her clit. And then her orgasm hit her, starting from her toes and working upwards and outwards until she came apart on his cock with a scream that pierced the lazy calm of the afternoon. Carver followed fast, digging his fingers into her hips.

It was some time before either of them could both breathe or even function normally. They remained joined for what seemed like an eternity while limbs trembled and pulse-rates peaked. Carver was the first to recover. He picked her up gently and carried her back into the bathroom to clean her up with a soft sponge.

"Baby, that was amazing. Thank you." He planted a soft kiss against her mouth then sat her on the rim of the bath and spread her legs wide to inspect her swollen labia.

"For what?" she asked bemused. After when she had just been through, it was strange and humbling to have him clean her up yet, on her still sensitive skin, his touch was intimate and strangely pleasurable. Once again her sex started to throb, as though it had never stopped.

"For letting me make love to you like that. And for giving me your complete trust in letting me control your need."

"You were controlling my need? Are there no limits to your skills?" Her tone was amused, mocking his conceit, even though, yet again, she'd handed her trust to him like a child waiting for presents on Christmas Day.

Carver growled. The wicked glint in his eyes was back again. "Oh yes, and I'm still controlling you now." As he spoke, he dipped a finger into her and swirled so sweetly against a set of highly-sensitive nerve-endings she pressed her forehead to his shoulder and moaned. Yes, he was right, he did have complete control.

"OK, I give in. You win," she said weakly, catching her breath. "Enough."

"This isn't about me winning, Gail. This is about us finding pleasure in each other's bodies. This weekend I'm going to spend as much time as I can making you come over and over again, in my mouth, on my fingers, wrapped tight around my cock, in a quiet field or secluded forest, in the shower, in bed. Even in public, if that's what turns you on. And you are going to scream out loud, just like you did a few minutes ago. I promise." He swept the hair back from her forehead and cupped her cheek to steal a kiss. "That was so beautiful, baby. I loved making you come. _You're_ beautiful. Your skin, your face, your eyes are glowing. You look like a woman who has been thoroughly fucked. It suits you."

Gail smiled. A sex-god he might be, with the expertise to reduce a woman to a quivering heap in seconds, he was still pleased with and proud of his ability to satisfy her. "I have been thoroughly fucked, and thank _you_. But what if later that thoroughly-fucked woman wants to thoroughly fuck you in return?" Her voice was husky as she caressed the part of his anatomy she was beginning to love. He was still large and thick, even when spent.

Carver face creased into a wide smile. "Baby, it's a win-win situation for both of us. I'm a highly-sexed man. I love looking at and tasting every inch of the female form, especially yours. If you want to take me to bed and make love with me all day and all night, I'll let you. But if you want to give me pleasure, you need to know one thing. I like being in control."

After what he had just done to her, she'd be happy to spend hours lingering over every inch of his delectable body, especially the hard baton of hot flesh that was startingd to come to life again beneath her fingers. Then there was his chest and those wonderful butt cheeks of his. How she'd enjoy running her fingers and mouth over them.

"I'm beginning to get the message," she nibbled on his upper lip, drawing it into her mouth as she worked her fingers up and down his semi-aroused shaft. "But you've put me in touch with my darker side. Isn't there a small part of you that could accept being controlled?"

Carver pulled her back by her hair to face him, his eyes shining with a strange light. "Control is something I don't like to relinquish but for you I will try. I promise. If you want to explore your darker side, perhaps you can test my resolve later, after dinner."

She held his gaze and continued to stroke him harder. An idea had just taken root in her head, a very dark, sexy idea. If he had the stamina, she had the desire. "How about now?"

He grinned at her daring. "What do you have in mind?"

"Ah no, Mr. Heath. That's not how it works. That would be giving you back the control. In your own words, "You'll just have to trust me." Won't you?"

Her smile was seductive as she led him back into the bedroom and sat him back down on the chair. She crossed to the bed and turned on the radio, flicking stations until she found some suitable slow, sexy, Latin music.

"You'll have to call me Mistress," she teased as she danced back to him in her stockings, suspenders and heels, caressing her breasts, stomach and hips in the fading light. "So how about it, slave? Do you trust me?"

"Sweetheart, we have an hour to get ready for dinner," he stalled, aroused beyond belief at her playful mood despite having made love less than thirty minutes earlier.

"Time enough for what I have in mind," she whispered against his ear.

With a deftness that caught him by surprise, she trapped his hands behind the chair back and secured them with his tie then she secured his shins making it difficult for him to close his thighs, his rampant cock and balls on open display. She stood behind the chair and kissed the side of his mouth then moved back to his ear lobe, rubbing her breasts into his shoulders, before finally moving around his front to sit on his lap.

Unable to move, Carver moaned. She was so fucking sexy he just wanted to pound into her again. He would, if he could break free. Her hands were in his hair, tracing his chest muscles, playing across his mouth, encouraging him to suck her finger tips while the wet heat from her sex seeped onto his thigh. He was rock hard and ready for her again. Her luscious tits bounced in front of his face demanding to be sucked. He strained his neck to reach them and failed. "You are asking for trouble, sweetheart. You just wait till you release these binds."

"Nnuhuh. I have you right where I want you. You are under my control now and I'm not going to release you until I've had my wicked way with you," she giggled as she danced just out of reach.

Despite his vulnerable situation, Carver laughed with her. "You won't make a very good dominatrix if you keep giggling all the time. You have to be more forceful, darker. Play out the role."

"OK. How about this for starters?" She stood up in front of him and placed a high-heeled foot on his thigh. The delicate point of her shoe nudged the underside of his cock allowing him a glimpse of her still swollen sex. She knew what he wanted but the idea of driving him wild with desire gave her power. She settled into the role. "Do you like that? Or is it too much, slave? Tell your mistress what you want."

She gyrated her hips, putting into motion a chain reaction that went up to her breasts, mere inches from his mouth, and ended with his throbbing cock. Her eyes were drawn to it, on her mouth a devilish smile. "My, what a big erection you have, slave. What would happen if your mistress touched it?"

She placed her foot back on the floor and bent from the waist to drape her long hair over his cock. Knowing he was watching her in the mirror as well as in front of him, she posed to give him a tantalising and very explicit view in the mirror. The fact that he was powerless, tied to the chair, egged her on. She behaved shamelessly, taunting and teasing, touching and kissing, but never where he wanted and never for long enough, until the rise and fall of his chest and his strained muscles told her his self-control was at breaking point.

"What would happen if your mistress sucked on your cock, slave?" she asked in a voice low and husky, revealing her own desire. She slid a hand down his chest, across his stomach, to his shaft and brushed her thumb across the large purple tip. A large pearl of pre-cum coated her pad. She licked her lips in a teasing gesture that caused him buck against the chair. "Would you come for me, slave? In my mouth?"

Carver groaned. Every muscle in his body was wound tighter than a drum from the effort of trying not to climax. The scent of her arousal was all over him. He knew she was wet without needing to touch. But this was not about her pleasure. It was about his own and how far she could work him up before he lost control. A bead of sweat dripped down his forehead, trailed the line of his jaw and plopped onto his chest. The way she touched, or didn't touch him, was more than he could bear. He wanted her mouth around his cock, wanted to feel her tongue and teeth on him.

"Yes, mistress. Please suck me, hard," he begged. "Let me come in your mouth."

When she bent down to answer his prayers, a shudder rippled through his body. He threw back his head and gritted his teeth as her lips traced a path down his body to his throbbing erection. Her fingers were surprisingly cool. When her mouth encompassed his cock and her tongue swirled around his tip, his balls tightened involuntarily. She felt it too. Her fingers swept beneath his sac to massage the gland leading to his ass hole. If her touch was exploratory, learning what pleased him from the involuntary moans that escaped his throat, her mouth was demanding, settling him on fire.

"My god, baby," he moaned. His balls were so fucking tight. It was difficult to hold back, especially when she took him as far as she could into the back of her mouth and sucked him hard. He jerked his hips upwards to meet her, feeling the surge of release take over until there was nothing left but her mouth cleaning his wasted cock, and his heart leaping out of his chest.

Finally she stood up and held his head against her stomach, stroking his back and shoulders to calm him. "Good slave," she whispered into his hair.

Suddenly the Gail he knew re-emerged. She bent down to release his hands and feet, planting gentle kisses wherever she could reach. "Oh my god, I've never done that before. Thank you for trusting me."

Rubbing his wrists, Carver raised his head and frowned. "Never given a blow-job?" His tone was incredulous.

"No, I meant, I've never tied anyone up before and given reign to my basest desires. We hardly know each other yet you've allowed me to express myself in ways I would never have imagined." The smile she gave him was at once shy and beautiful. "Thank you for letting me to do that to you. I realise it must have been difficult for you to let go of the control."

Carver glanced at the clock by the bed. Thirty-five years he'd been walking the earth and he thought he knew everything about himself, especially his sexual preferences and dislikes. Yet she'd managed to shake him to the very core of his convictions, just by taking away his control. He was keen to explore further, but not now. "We'll finish this conversation later. We need to get dressed for dinner but we're definitely going to pick this up from where we left off when we get back tonight."

He stood up and tapped her butt in a gesture of closure.

Chapter 4

Carver slipped Gail's hand inside his as she walked alongside him through the crowded restaurant. Attune to the lean movement of his body, she felt him stiffen momentarily before he pushed her in front of him and guided her towards a table in the corner. A distinguished-looking man in his late fifties stood up to greet them, a younger, very executive-looking woman at his side.

"John." Carver reached out a hand in greeting, his other one resting against the base of Gail's spine.

A slow flush of self-consciousness tinged her cheeks. Standing so close to Carver, feeling the heat from his body, smelling the familiar scent his aftershave, her mind fast rewound to the previous few hours she'd spent making love with the sexiest man in the room by a million miles. Jeez, she had to stop thinking like that. Sex with Carver could become addictive. But then it wasn't just about sex, it was also about the way he made her feel about herself. Beautiful and sexy - far removed from how she saw herself.

"Good to see you, Carver. I hope you don't mind, I invited Megan Riley, my Corporate Affairs Director, to join us."

Forcing her attention on the business at hand, Gail's antenna went on full alert. Her experience of human nature told their host's comment was meant as a formality, not a question, and it certainly wasn't innocent. The sudden tension around the table had nothing to do with business and everything to do with John's choice of dinner guest.

Carver nodded his cool assent. "Megan."

As he exchanged hand shakes with the other woman, Gail caught the cold gleam of cynicism in her eyes. Something was very wrong.

"I took the liberty of inviting a guest myself too. This is Gail Harrison, a close friend of mine." Carver's hands moved to her waist in a gesture that shouted possession to everyone in the room.

John gave her a warm, appraising smile as he shook her hand.

"I hope you don't mind me joining you for dinner, Mr Stanton-Hope," she said. "I know you and Carver have important business to discuss. If you prefer, I can go back to our lodge and order room service."

John shook his head, amused at her suggestion. "And deprive the men in this room the presence of a beautiful woman? No. We'd be delighted if you'd join us, wouldn't we Megan?" He gestured to the waiter to bring the menus.

Carver pulled out Gail's chair for her to sit down. Attuned to the light scent of her perfume and the underlying notes of her body, his masculine ego flared. The desire to reschedule the business meeting at hand, to throw her over his shoulder and resume their own private business meeting back at the lodge, caught him off-guard. That he could entertain such reckless thoughts at an important moment like this was all the proof he needed that he'd lost his mind. He forced himself to meet John's eye. This meeting was vital. He had to get a grip or else he would lose hold of the company he'd meticulously built up from scratch.

"It's been a long time. How are you, Carver?" Megan asked, her voice as smooth as ice wine as she took her seat.

Gail's antenna ratcheted up several more notches. Glancing between them, she had the strangest feeling that she was a passenger on the Titanic, and about to hit the iceberg. The way Megan's eyes fixed on Carver spelt trouble with a capital T. The two of them knew each other? She glanced at Carver for an answer, aware that John was watching her with keen interest. So their debonair host had an ulterior motive for inviting Megan Riley to dine with them.

Then the iceberg struck, causing Gail's equilibrium to lurch a full one-eighty degrees.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Harrison. Didn't Carver tell you?" Megan looked her directly in the eye. "I'm his wife."

Gail's first instinct was to slap the smug look from Carver's face. Her second was to make a dignified exit, with her head held high and her pride in tatters. She'd been well and truly fucked by a married man - not single as he claimed - in all senses of the word. She stared at him for clarification, aware that two other pairs of eyes also watched him with interest.

As cool as the proverbial cucumber, Carver picked up her hand and placed it on his upper thigh, in its usual position, just to the right of his cock - a clear message for John and Megan as it was for Gail - before fixing Megan with a critical glare. "That's not exactly true, is it Megan."

He turned to face Gail to explain. "Megan is my _ex_ -wife. We've been divorced three years, and separated two years before that." Carver caught John's open amusement out of the corner of his eye. In the blink of an eye, his manner cooled to freezing point. "But you already knew that. Didn't you, John?" He gave their host a narrow stare. Had he invited Megan to the meeting to undermine the proposal? It was plausible. Megan's game was easier to recognise. He hadn't seen her in three years yet he knew she'd never forgiven him for filing for divorce even though she'd been the one to walk out on their marriage.

Unrepentant at being caught out, John threw back his head and laughed. "Please, call me John. Megan has been working as my Corporate Affairs Director for the last two and a half years. I thought, given that you know each other, her presence would break the ice. Besides, it doesn't hurt to know something of one's opposition, does it?"

He had to admit to a grudging respect for his business rival as he watched Carver's mask of self-assurance slip firmly back into place. According to his intelligence sources, Carver Heath was a talented entrepreneur, with an eye for the next big technology or innovation, especially when it might further humanity and do less harm to the planet. In fact, he could have been lauded as the next Bill Gates or Mother Teresa had it not been for his reputation as a playboy, the details of which Megan had been more than happy to fill in. If the rumours running through the international investment community were true, Carver was being considered for a knighthood by the British Monarchy for his contribution to business and his charitable works.

Right now, he admired Carver for his superb choice in women as much as for his business sense. Both were beautiful and feisty. Megan - polished, ambitious, and corporate America through and through, while Gail Harrison, the woman who accompanied Carver as his guest tonight, was something else. Sinfully sexy, with luscious curves and peaks in all the right places, it was her, not Carver, who held John's attention. With a wry smile, he gave thanks that he was happily married. Fifteen to twenty years younger and single, and he might have signed away one of his companies to take Carver's place in her bed, because that's surely where she and Carver had spent the last few hours judging by the delightful glow on her skin.

Carver gave him a long look. Sixth sense wasn't necessary to recognise that John's interest extended beyond Synchrocity. He hardened his heart, feeling territorial all of a sudden over a woman he'd known for a little over forty-eight hours given the different time zones. "You're right. It doesn't hurt to size up the opposition. By the way, how is your wife - Helen, isn't it? And your family?"

Feeling more like a pawn than a dinner guest, Gail focused on her menu. If she was to survive the evening, now wasn't the time to question wisdom of accepting Carver's dinner invitation or worse still, to take sides. Carver was fully capable of sparring with the likes of John Stanton-Hope. And to give him credit, from the tight set of his jaw when he recognised Megan, she realised he'd been just as caught out by John's choice of dinner companion as she had. She would quiz him later about his marriage.

"I understand you own a vineyard here in the Napa Valley, Mr Stanton-Hope." She met the older man's eye directly. "Carver and I visited some of the award-winning wineries in the Valley today. Perhaps we visited yours?" Without creating a scene, she managed to convey, in one single look, that she wasn't interested in playing his games.

John marvelled at her poise. She'd recovered quickly from Megan's spiteful parry and now she was chastising him for his own duplicity with those unusual violet-coloured eyes. He almost wished things would kick off between the former Mr. and Mrs. Heath for the chance to get to know her better. "Please, call me John. Which vineyards did you visit?"

"We visited Mumm Napa this morning, then the Rutherton Grove Winery, and Chateau Mountelena this afternoon. I was surprised to learn how many grape varieties are grown here."

"That's because the soil is rich in nutrients here, and the climate is so temperate. Have you discovered a favourite yet?"

"No, not yet, though so far my preference is for the sparkling wines from the Mumm Napa Estate. Very floral, with strong overtones of peaches and melon. Carver preferred the reds from the Rutherford Grove Winery."

"If you have time, I could get one of my staff to give you a guided tour of my estate. It's not open to the public but for a discerning palette such as yours, I think you'd be in for a treat."

Gail looked across to Carver and caught something indiscernible in his eyes. Not quite sure how he wanted her to respond, she made her own call. "That's very kind of you, John. However, if your talks with Carver go well tonight, we have other plans for the rest of this weekend." She was rewarded by Carver's hand on her thigh.

John accepted her brush-off with good grace. "Well then, let's hope we don't disappoint you so you can continue to enjoy your weekend. If you change your mind though, the offer's still there. Just call my estate. I'll let them know to show you around."

"What are your plans this weekend, Carver?" Megan asked. "I would have thought you'd be keen to wrap up here as soon as possible and get back to Hong Kong."

With half an ear on Carver's conversation with Megan and the other half on John's, Gail studied the ex-Mrs. Heath over the rim of her water glass. Power-dressed to impress, with glossy blonde hair expensively styled by an expert, she was shorter than Gail by several inches. Feminine without needing to use her sexuality as a weapon, her eyes had a determined glint, and the set of her chin and mouth revealed character traits in common with her ex-husband. A petite package with a ruthless streak - an interesting choice of mate for Carver. No doubt their short-lived marriage had been punctuated with plenty of fireworks both in and out of bed. Gail turned her attention back to Carver. His expression was hard to read but his body language told a different story. To Gail's expert eye, his interest lay with only one woman - herself. The knowledge made her sex cream and her nipples tighten for his touch.

"As Gail's already mentioned, it really depends on whether John and I can reach some sort of agreement tonight," he replied. "If we can, Gail and I will retrace our route through the valley tomorrow and head back to SF tomorrow evening. Gail works for Zeitlinger Bank and has an important project to complete before heading on to New York at the end of the week."

At the sound of her own name, Gail found it impossible to divide herself between the two conversations. John continued to extol the virtues of the local climate and soil on the wine growing process, apparently unaware of the strain between former husband and wife.

"Are you staying with your sister in Tiburon?" Megan ventured.

"No, we stayed there last night. We've booked into one of the lodges here on the estate for tonight."

"Is that so?"

Gail could almost see the cogs in the ex-Mrs. Heath's brain turning. _To what extent had their relationship progressed if he'd already introduced her to his family?_ If only Megan knew!

Carver quickly switched the conversation back to business. "John, I've read your proposal concerning the take over of Synchrocity. Your people have done a thorough analysis of the business and its future prospects however I wondered whether you would be open to an alternative proposal."

Eye-brows raised, John looked up from his entree of lobster and salmon mousse on a bed of rocket with caviar-topped croutons. "I knew you'd have something up your sleeve, Carver. You have me intrigued. What's on your mind?"

Pulling a sheaf of papers from the inside pocket of his suit jacket, Carver gave John a copy of his proposal. Gail had to admire his drive and professionalism as he broke down the details. The reason for his reticence to discuss his business earlier in the car became clearer. The impact of joining the two businesses could have far-reaching consequences. She had overreacted and for nothing. Her mind wandered, as did her eyes - in Carver's direction.

Dressed in a charcoal grey suit, white shirt and a plain tie, he looked good enough to eat. Handsome, commanding and totally in control. Control. There was that word again. The fact that she had forced him to substitute his first choice of tie after she'd used it to bind him naked to the bedroom furniture brought a smile to her lips. It also conjured up a few more fantasises she wanted to explore with him later. She returned her attention to the business at hand realising Megan had her pinned down with a disparaging glare.

"Have you known Carver long, Ms. Harrison?" The pinched expression on Megan's face didn't fool Gail for one moment. The ex-Mrs. Heath would take her on in a naked mud-wrestling fight in front of a televised audience any day if Carver was first prize.

"Please, call me Gail. No, not very long."

"Then I should warn you. Don't expect exclusive rights on him," Megan muttered, resuming her wasp-sucker expression as she held a glass of wine to her lips. "He's attractive, powerful and rich. Three characteristics which attract women like bees to honey. Make the most of it, Ms. Harrison. The sex may be great but he goes through women like he goes through loose change."

Gail reached for her glass of water, counting from one to ten in her head. So, the former Mrs. Heath still considered Carver her exclusive property.

"Thanks for the warning but I think you have the wrong impression about our relationship. Carver's just a friend - a good friend - and, as we both happened to be in SF this weekend, we're sharing a little down time together sightseeing. Nothing more than that." She replaced her glass on the table and picked up her knife and fork to eat.

Megan, however, was not easily rebuffed. "Don't take me for a fool, Ms Harrison. I know Carver, and I know women like you. You think you have something bright and clean and pure with him. Hearts and flowers, and earth-shattering sex. Well, it won't last. I should know. I was his wife. He's using you just like every woman he takes to his bed."

Gail bit back her instinct to spar back. The fact that Megan was jealous revealed more about Megan's insecurities than it did about Carver's fidelity. All he had promised was a fun weekend in the Napa Valley. They were friends with extremely interesting benefits, and that's all Gail expected. When he dropped her off at her business-class hotel on Sunday night, she wasn't naive enough to presume she would ever see him again. And she certainly didn't need the ex-Mrs. Heath to warn her off.

"Thank you for the advice, Megan. I'll bear it in mind, though you really shouldn't worry about Carver and I. His bed is the one place he hasn't taken me... yet."

"That was awkward," Gail quipped as they left the restaurant. "I didn't realise you'd been married."

Despite Megan's presence, the evening had gone well. John had promised to consider Carver's counter-proposal, and although Megan had tried to put him off, he was keen to keep the communication channels open, blocking out time in his busy schedule to meet up with Carver during the following week. John Stanton-Hope III was a very intriguing man and one who would give Carver a run for his money. The question Gail wanted to ask was "How did Megan fit into the equation and what was she up to?"

"It was a long time ago."

From his abrupt response, she could tell Carver considered the topic closed. He was angry. The promise of a leisurely bout of lovemaking before sleep claimed them faded away like the evening mist. She couldn't blame him. It must have been difficult to come face to face with his ex-wife again, especially in front of his business rival. But that was why John had invited Megan to dinner, wasn't it? Megan knew how Carver worked. "Do you want to talk about it, Carver? I'm a good listener."

"No." He lengthened his stride, hastening their arrival at their private lodge.

"OK. But there's something I need to do. Can you wait up a minute please?"

He pulled up sharply and turned to face her. "What?" He didn't bother to hide his exasperation.

There was only one way to straighten out his kinks. "This." Gail yanked on his necktie and drew him in for a long, heated kiss. When she pulled back, his expression was surprised but no longer angry.

"Why did you do that?"

"Because I wanted to. I've wanted to all evening. And because you needed something to take your mind off your ex-wife. Did it work?"

"Would you care to try again?"

"I thought you'd never ask." She gave him a radiant smile and drew closer until their bodies moulded together in perfect symmetry.

Sliding her hands into his hair, she took control of his mouth and felt his body respond. Satisfied she had dispelled at least some of his bad mood, she led him by the hand down the path to the lodge. At the foot of the external wooden staircase, she slid her hands beneath his jacket and traced her fingertips over the muscles of his chest and kissed him again, playfully draping a leg around his thigh. Her expectations for the rest of the evening got brighter when Carver drew back and smiled, his hand inching up her leg towards her stocking tops, his cock ready for action. It was amazing how he could switch from cold and distant, to full-on sexy in the matter of minutes. Gail wasn't complaining. The slow, powerful ache in her sex matched his need any day.

"There's something about being controlled by a woman that I am starting to like."

"Good, because I have a few more scenarios I'd like to try out with you." She waited for him to open the front door and pushed past him, brushing against his groin for maximum effect. It worked. The minute the door was shut he dragged her back into his arms and ravished her mouth. His hand slipped between the fold of her wrap-around dress to find not the lacy barrier he had been expecting but her soft, hairless mound. The discovery that she wasn't wearing panties made him groan.

"Fuck, Gail. If I'd known you were naked underneath, we would have left the restaurant sooner. Or better still I would have had my wicked way with you in the restrooms."

"There's nothing to stop you now, Mr. Heath."

"That's right, but the restrooms are too far." Picking her up by the ass, he walked across the lounge and sat her on the dining table, her legs around his hips while his hands roved up her stocking-clad legs to her naked buttocks. He pulled her against his hard erection, enjoying the heat between her thighs. "Prepare to be ravished."

Gail smiled as he nuzzled her neck with his lips. "Only if you allow me to return the favour."

"Sorry, can't wait." Locating the front tie that fastened her dress, he made light work of exposing her body. Her breasts were enclosed in a frothy, lacy bra that matched her suspender belt. He slipped the straps over her shoulder and eased her breasts up over the cups. Immediately her dark nipples responded to his touch, stiffening to kissable peaks, before his eyes. He could not resist, especially when she wrapped her legs around his waist and trapped him in position, encouraging him to take his fill.

"God, you are a work of fine art."

Moving his mouth from her breasts, he kissed her face and neck while he continued to lavish equal pain and pleasure on her taut nipples with his thumbs and forefingers. She still held the faint taste and perfume of the body oil he had used on her earlier. The memory of coating her beautiful skin with it made his already hard cock press painfully against his foreskin. He needed to get his body under control or else he would take her on the table without thought for protection.

"How about we take this to the hot tub on the balcony?"

"Sounds good to me," she gasped, as his tongue ran circles around her inner ear. "We're quite isolated, aren't we?"

"If you're worried about anyone seeing us, it's very private here." Before she could move, he dragged her closer by the hips so that his erection connected with her sex. He loved the fact that she growled with need just as he did. "I'll switch on the tub and sort out a bucket of chilled fizz to relax with. You grab a couple of bath robes for afterwards."

Lifting her from the table he paused to insert his tongue between her kiss-swollen lips before setting her away. Simply from touching her, his breathing had become laboured and his cock throbbed with the need to possess her. It didn't take long for him to activate the tub, locate the wine cooler and glasses in the outdoor mini-bar, and uncork the wine.

When he returned to the bedroom to strip off, Gail was already naked with her back to him, dancing to a soft, sensuous Latin song on the radio. The sight of her perfect heart-shaped buttocks and the occasional flash of pert breast made him break out into a sweat. He dragged his tie over his neck and ripped off his shirt, not caring where the buttons might end up.

Gail turned round. The outline of his chest muscles, topped by taut nipples as tempting as glacé cherries on a cup-cake, and the distracting bulge inside his trousers was thrown into glorious, X-rated relief by the light from the bedside tables. She licked her lips as she watched him unzip his trousers and ease off his shoes. Even half-clothed, rampant and sex-god were still the only words fit to describe him.

She pinched herself. No, she wasn't dreaming. He was 100% real and totally hers for the rest of the night or until she died from ecstasy. Was it possible to die from an overload of sexual pleasure? Because that was her plan.

Her heartbeat spiked at the thought as she moved slowly, sensuously towards him, trailing her hands from her breasts to her sex until she stood behind him, skin against skin. Hooking her thumbs into his waist band, she eased his suit trousers and underpants past his hips towards his knees. As his erection sprang free, she reached around his back to glide her fingers up and down his silky-smooth shaft. The desire to take him deep inside of her made her wet yet she held back, enjoying the guttural sounds of his submission as she eased his foreskin back across the hard ridges of his cock.

As much for her own pleasure as for his, she pressed a line of heated kisses down the entire length of his spine to the backs of his thighs, gently nipping at his buttocks and the top of his thighs with her teeth. With one hand wrapped around his cock, she brought the other behind him to cup the weight of his testicles between his thighs while she used her tongue to explore the gland leading to his ass. When he spread his legs in encouragement she probed the crack of his butt with her forefinger, circling the outer skin of his puckered hole without penetrating. It wasn't something she had tried before, but making love with Carver brought out her daring, experimental side. She continued to stroke and lick deeper, pushing him harder, taking control of his desire until she sensed his hand grip his cock and his balls jerk with upward strokes.

"Hey, that's my job." Remaining on her knees, she twisted him round and, with a look of reprimand, guided his swollen cock past her lips. Close-up and personal, it came to mind how physically impressive he was - bigger and smoother than the other cocks she had encountered during her sparse lovelife - and framed by a dark fuzz of pubic hair that ticked her nose and cheeks as she sucked on his tip. Accommodating his full length and girth in her mouth proved impossible without using her both of her hands. Instead she gripped his buttocks and rocked against him, enjoying each ecstatic groan wrenched from his throat as he slid across her lips as far as she could take him. She knew she'd broken down the last of his control when his hands latched onto her head and he widened his stance to thrust deeper. He was ready to come. His thigh muscles and buttocks tensed and he placed a hand on her shoulders.

"Baby, you need to stop. I'm about to come."

"Nuhuh," she responded. She loved the taste of his beautiful cock and wanted to watch his face as he came hard in her mouth. She encouraged him to take over the rhythm, watching his face and neck muscles strain as a deep growling sound rumbled up from his throat. With one final thrust, hot cum shot against the back of her throat, coating her tongue and palate. She didn't care. His taste was unique - a taste she hoped to remember for the rest of her days.

When he settled back into a state of calm, Carver drew her into a standing position and folded her into his arms to kiss her. "Has anyone told you, you have the most fuckable mouth?"

Gail laughed, drawn to the power and rhythm of his heart against her breast as his pulse returned to normal. "No, you're the first to ever say that. To be fair, it's not something I'd put on my CV but I enjoy exploring my fantasies with you."

"Good, because I enjoy exploring your fantasies too. And right now, I have one of my own. Let's take this to the hot tub. We're going to take it nice and slow."

Leading her by the hand onto the private balcony, he tested the water temperature with his toe and eased himself into the tub until the hot water bubbled just beneath his dark, brown nipples then he pulled her down to sit on the wide ledge directly in front of him. He waited for her to settle with her back against his chest before trapping his legs around her waist, his spent cock snug against the crack of her ass, and handed her a glass of cold sparkling wine.

"You really enjoy what you do, don't you Carver?" she said as she took a sip. The back of her head rested against the crook of his neck and shoulder.

"I'm enjoying what I'm doing right now." He lightly massaged her breasts, using the power of the water to support their weight.

Gail leant back and gave herself up to the wonderful sensations that tripped effortlessly through her body at his touch. "I mean being a business angel. You're good at it. I can see that."

"Like I said. It's not just about the money. I hope I can persuade John to go for my proposal."

Gail tilted her head to look at him. "I don't think you have any worries that John _won't_ go for it. From what I saw, you had him practically eating out of your hand."

"John's no fool. He's a very astute businessman."

"He is. And he certainly didn't invite your former wife to tonight's meeting just so that you could meet her again. He wanted to put you off kilter. Though why, I don't understand. Your proposal would benefit both companies without cannibalising the other. The fact that it plays to their equal strengths is the key to its success. You're a very astute business man yourself, Carver."

He rescued the glass from her hands and took a sip before placing it to one side. "So you were listening. I thought you were talking to Megan. I'm curious. What did she say to you?"

Gail twisted round further to study his reaction. "She warned me that our relationship wouldn't be exclusive. That you go through women as fast as you go through pocket change."

Carver frowned but didn't flinch from her scrutiny. "That's not true. She was being malicious."

"She also said that the sex would be fantastic but that once you'd taken me to bed you would discard me just as you do all women." She glimpsed a flare of anger and hurt dull his eyes.

"I have no idea why she would say that, except to upset you, and by doing that, she's upset me too. I like women. I enjoy their company but I don't have sex with every woman I meet."

Gail lowered her head to study her fingers as they swept circles on his forearms. "Then we won't let her get to us. It doesn't matter whether it's true or not, Carver. You invited me to spend the weekend with you, no strings attached. I knew what I was getting in to when I accepted your terms."

Irritated by his ex-wife's divisiveness, Carver slid a hand beneath Gail's jaw and forced her to look at him. Her eyes were a deep violet, an indication that she cared more than she was admitting to him. His cock swelled against her butt. God, he wanted her again. "Us, now, this weekend, it isn't a business contract. I wanted to make love with you the first moment I saw you and right now, I want to again. I plan to make love with you all night long until you beg me to stop."

When he spoke like that, his emotions exposed and primal, she wanted to physically pour herself all over him. Hell, he could do exactly what he wanted to her as long as he made her come. A flash of humour crossed her face. "Good, because I'm afraid I told her bed was the only place you hadn't taken me - yet."

His amusement reflected in his eyes causing Gail to feel the vibrations of his laughter at the base of her butt. "Then we'll have to rectify that." He tipped back her head to kiss her mouth while his expert fingers moved lover to spread the folds of her labia, using the jets of water to stimulate her sex.

In an instant she was transported to her own private heaven. His fingers dipped and swirled inside of her. And, just as he promised, he took his time, discovering all the right pressure points slowly and so sweetly, as he quickly brought her to a heap of quivering need by his fingers alone. His mouth found her neck, her earlobe, her jaw. His cock throbbed at her back, reminding her of his need. And still his fingers danced inside of her until she couldn't stop the tidal waves that rippled outwards from her womb to the tips of her toes and the roots of her hair.

Throughout her orgasm, Carver held her tight, content to kiss her hair and face. He caressed her stomach and the sides of her breasts while she gradually came back down to earth then he twisted her round on his lap to face him. Her skin wore a heavy flush and her beautiful mauve eyes were shuttered. "Look at me, baby," he commanded.

When she opened her eyes, she was so beautiful, so fucking sexy, Carver felt like a teenage boy about to have sex for the first time. Her pert breasts bounced before his face. Her ass curved and dipped in all the right places, filling his palms in a perfect fit. He wanted to kiss and taste her. He wanted to do everything in his power to make her come until she was ready for him. And then, when she thought she could take no more, he would possess her completely with his cock.

Easing his back down against the rim of the hot tub, he lifted her by the hips and turned her to straddle his face. "I want to watch you come for me. I want to see your face as you come apart. Will you do that for me, baby?"

Gail nodded. She craved his mouth on her sex so much she touched herself to ease the ache that had settled around her clit. Oblivious to everything but the built up of need again, she cried out loud as he pulled her down onto his mouth and inserted the point of his tongue into her tight, wet slit. He tongue-fucked her hard then slow, then hard again, his hands digging into her hips as she buried her hands into his hair, and clung on, riding his face through each wonderful wave of bliss.

Watching her from below, Carver lost all sense of reason. The way she responded to him, uninhibited and totally selfless, struck a chord with his libido and ignited something deep within him. He flicked his tongue over her swollen clit and felt her hips dance to his rhythm beneath his hands. Hell, he could watch her come over and over again for the rest of the weekend she was so responsive. He latched on to her clit again and tugged it into his mouth while his fingers spread her buttocks to explore her ass, stimulating her sex, her clit, and ass at the same time until she finally begged him to stop.

"Oh fuck, Carver. Oh fuck. It's... too... much..."

And just like that, at the sound of his name on her lips, his cock was as rigid as industrial steel and painful. He had to have her now, before she went over the edge. "Hold on, babe. I want to be inside you when you come."

Holding her tight, he raised himself up against the back of the tub. Her musky scent clung to his face, neck and shoulders. Fuck, he was so hard, so fucking huge, he was liable to shatter the moment he entered her. Unable to wait, he grabbed her hips and thrust with one motion to the hilt until his balls nestled against her ass. The sensation of her body striving to accommodate his cock was un-fucking-believable. Velvety and slick, and so very, very tight. Absolute perfection.

Before he knew it, a deep, moan spread upwards from the base of his balls and escaped from his lips. His emotions were raw and exposed. His lower back started to tingle. Suddenly he was pounding into her over and over in a frenzy of sightless, muscle-clenching lust. He braced his hands on her hips and held her firm against the onslaught of his passion. He needed to possess her, to fill her with everything that he was, everything he'd ever been, and everything he would be in the future. He felt her orgasm build around his cock, felt her milk him hard then his control fractured, leaving him nowhere to go.

The sheer force of his climax sapped all reserves of energy from his body and went on for ever. His brain dimmed. Finally, exhaustion and inexplicable contentment washed over him. He held her in his arms and gave her a gentle, soothing kiss.

"Jeezus, Carver." Gail rested her forehead against his, her hands around his neck. She struggled to control her breathing. "I swear you're going to be the death of me." His cock was still inside of her, the last remaining hardness gradually ebbing away, and his hands still fixed on her hips. Utterly sated, her muscles cried out in protest. "You certainly know your way around a woman's body," she heard herself say shakily.

He placed a finger under her chin and stared into the depths of her violet eyes. He didn't want any misunderstanding between them, not after the tumultuous experience they'd just shared. "Does that bother you? I only care about pleasing you, baby. That's all that matters to me right now."

The thought that he'd had plenty of practice with numerous lovers shouldn't have bothered her but it did, though she'd die before she admitted it. Carver had promised her a weekend of fun and passion in the Napa Valley and he'd had more than kept his word. She couldn't, wouldn't ask for more.

"Don't do this, Gail. Don't cheapen the mind-blowing moment we've just shared," he chastised, noting a flicker of apprehension flit across her face.

Gail hid her thoughts behind a joke. "If you're fishing for compliments again, forget it. I was simply thinking that I needed to thank your ex-wife for teaching you to be such a talented and considerate lover."

He teased his thumb against her lips until she opened for him and tilted his head to one side, tracing the pad of his thumb against the ridge of her lower teeth, a frown on his brow. Was she jealous? "I'd thank her myself but my skills were learnt long before I married Megan."

"They were? Then why the hell did she leave you?"

It wasn't the question he expected her to ask. Carver tipped his head back and laughed, the sexy rumble in his throat vibrating right down to his cock still inside of her. "There's more to a marriage than sex. I thought you'd be more interested in the person who taught me how to satisfy a woman?"

"Just one person? Oh no, please tell me it was a woman and not some ancient Indian sex guru," she teased back, expecting Carver to correct himself.

"One woman, not a sex guru, and definitely not Megan."

Gail held his gaze. OK, so she was curious. "So, how many women have there been since Megan?"

Carver avoided the question. "Does it matter? There's no one here but us at this moment."

For the second time that night, his response made it clear. He would not discuss his previous relationships and she had no right to expect him to. It was her turn to defuse the potential change of mood. "That's what I like about you, Mr. Heath. You've let your guard down with me. Probably because we both know it's only for the weekend."

Pausing to top up her flute with sparkling wine, Carver considered her words. After what they'd just shared in the tub, there was no way one weekend would ever be enough. He wanted the rest of his week in San Francisco with her while he concluded business with John. And he was prepared to tie her to him with every string in his arsenal - ribbons, black stockings, neck-ties, handcuffs and silken ropes, perhaps blackmail if necessary. Hell, he hadn't felt this much in lust with a woman in a long, long time - perhaps even ever. One touch was all it took, one smile, one look, and his balls were working overtime.

"What if it was more than just the weekend? Like the rest of the week. Would you agree?" Naked, it was difficult to disguise his emotions. He hoped she wouldn't notice his heart beating out of his chest.

Gail laughed. "I'm a realist, Carver. I know you're just passing time with me. I understand and accept that. We both having fun and I'm honoured that you want to spend time with me now."

"I don't leave SF till Friday morning," he pushed. "Why don't you stay with me till the end of the week?"

Gail half-laughed, half-frowned. He was serious. He wanted to change the rules. "I'm flattered, Carver, honestly. But I don't think it's a good idea."

"Why not? Are you married, engaged...?" He wouldn't let it go.

"You know I'm not. But we agreed "No strings attached" and I'd rather we kept it that way. We come from different worlds. And I have to work." She released a soft sigh. "My commitments, my expectations are different from yours. Why don't we just enjoy the time we have left together?"

The look on her face told him he wasn't going to win the argument with his current strategy, even though he recognised the lies behind her words. He would get her to say yes though. He'd lay money on it. He pulled them both to their feet and stepped out of the tub. "Let's go to bed."

"So that you can move on to the next woman tomorrow morning?" she teased, trying to make light of the awkwardness she felt.

"Oh no, Ms. Harrison. I'm taking you to bed so that I can use every trick in my book to persuade you to agree to the rest of the week with me. I'm warning you, I'm not letting you go, not without a fight, baby.

Her eyes flashed in mock-challenge. "And I should warn you. You'll have to go through every single trick and more, Mr. Heath, because I'm not easily persuaded."

"I'm looking forward to making you eat those words." He lifted her off her feet and swung through the patio doors to head for the bedroom.

Spread out across the larger-than-king-size bed with Gail naked and pinned beneath him, Carver made love to her over and over again with such tenderness it brought tears to her eyes each time she orgasmed. When, at last, they drifted off to sleep, her back drawn tightly against his chest and groin, the first light of dawn tinged the horizon.

Chapter 5

The smell of coffee, grilled bacon and eggs enticed Gail from a deep sleep. She stretched her limbs and discovered a slow, pleasurable ache across her lower body from muscles overused the night before. Before she could open her eyes, Carver leant in and kissed her on the mouth. God, that felt so good.

"Good morning sleepy-head. It's about time you woke up." He had woken an hour earlier. After a quick shave he had dressed, ordered breakfast, and then sat across from the bed to watch her sleep. She had the face of an angel and a body created for sin. A smile crept across his face at the memories of exploring every inch of it only hours earlier.

"What time is it?"

"It's after nine. I thought we should get going. We have a lot to do today."

"We have? Why can't we spend the rest of our time here in bed?" Her voice was husky as she stared at him with deep violet eyes and bed-tousled hair that made his control waiver.

"You really are incorrigible, Ms. Harrison. I promised you vineyards and vineyards you shall have." He dropped a kiss on each of her breasts just above the nipple and stepped away from the bed before she could drag him back in. As much as he would have gladly buried himself deep into her luscious body again for the rest of the day, he had other plans - plans to convince her to spend the rest of her week in SF with him. "Check out is at twelve midday. So up and at 'em."

Gail groaned. "You are a cruel, cruel man. I offer you my body and you refuse it. Megan was right. You've had me in your bed and now you're casting me off for the next woman."

Carver smiled at her taunt. "You know that's not true. Get dressed, sweetheart. You're making this difficult on both of us."

She waggled her eye brows and peeled back the sheet. "That's the general idea, big boy."

As she lay back against the pillows naked, with her sexy bed-hair fanned out around her head and a slight flush colouring her cheeks, Carver's resolve shot to pieces. And when she casually let her knees swing open to reveal her sex wet, swollen and eager for his special brand of attention, he caved completely.

"Sweetheart, you are insatiable," he exclaimed as he stripped off his clothes and settled between her legs.

"Do you trust me, Gail?" Carver kept his eyes on the road, his expression again serious.

Gail frowned. "I think so. Why?"

"Because I have a surprise for you. But you have to trust me 100 per cent."

"That sounds ominous." She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Not ominous," he replied. "I'm hoping you will enjoy what I have in mind."

"Do I have a choice?" Gail quipped back. Her curiosity was peaked as he pulled off the road alongside a field of vines.

"Not anymore. Close your eyes." His tone brooked no argument.

Gail did as he ordered while he retrieved a small package from the pouch of the driver's door. From inside, he pulled out a lilac silk scarf that matched the exact colour of her eyes. Instead of fixing it around her neck or wrists, he slipped it over her eyes and tied it around the back of her head. Then, to quell her apprehension, he kissed her long and slow before restarting the ignition.

It took five minutes of silence between them before her mind stopped trying to second-guess his intention. "OK, so where are we going?"

"I'm not saying. It will spoil the surprise. And don't remove the blindfold until I tell you."

Deprived of sight, Gail's other senses heightened. A cool breeze brushed her forehead and cheeks, cooling the heat aroused by his kiss. The smell of mown grass and sun-ripened vines filled her nose, acidic yet sweet at the same time. Carver drew her hand to rest on his thigh. His well-defined muscles rippled beneath her fingertips, so taut she couldn't help test his self-control to the limit as she edged nearer and nearer to his growing erection. Where did he find the stamina? She was exhausted from their morning workout. Exhausted and deliriously happy.

Strong fingers clamped over hers. "Enough, or we'll never get there."

"Oh, I think we're almost there." Gail grinned beneath her blindfold. She inched her knuckle nearer to brush against the hard ridge beneath his flies and was rewarded by the tremor that pulsed through his body.

"Sweetheart," he growled.

Suddenly the air changed. From the sweet sound of bird song they'd just pulled off the main route and were heading into dense forest.

"Where are we?" Gail asked, still blindfolded.

"We're not quite there yet. And it's still a secret. I can tell you we're not heading for the vineyards though, not just yet."

"You're not going to ravish me in a forest again, are you?" she smiled. Just sitting next to him, she was attuned to his every movement. If he pressed his foot on the brake pedal, she felt the muscles in his thigh tense and the cut of his pants pull taut across his cock. If he switched on the indicator she obsessed over the muscles in his upper arms. If his hands turned the steering wheel she imagined his strong fingers on her naked body. The scent of his skin was imprinted in her brain and his kisses branded her body in places she didn't want to think about. It was official. Less than three days in his company and he'd turned her into a sexual being that existed purely for his touch. She sat back against the passenger seat and imagined his mouth doing wonderful things to her clit.

Carver glanced over at her and groaned at the dreamy look on her face. He knew exactly what she was thinking. It took ever piece of will-power he possessed not to reach over and use his fingers to help bring her to orgasm again. "If you keep doing that I'll have to pull off the road and ravish you right here and you'll miss out on your surprise."

That got her attention. She said upright in her chair. "So what is this surprise?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise now, would it?" He drove on for a further ten minutes then pulled the car off the road alongside a field of sun-weathered vines. The road twisted and turned and eventually turned into a dirt-track, Gail surmised from the increased bumping of the suspension. After several minutes Carver stopped the car. He leant over and pulled another scarf out of the glove compartment.

"Give me your wrists. This is all part of the surprise." Deftly he secured her wrists. When he was satisfied that she could not escape, he kissed her.

Gail waited for his next move, secretly thrilled. All four of her other senses heightened. Who'd have known she would find a bit of mild bondage so stimulating. Her panties were soaked by the time she heard him get out, and walk around the car. Strong arms pulled her from the front seat and set her down on her feet. The air was warm again and the earthy scent of cut grass hit her nose. She had no idea where she was. Apart from the sound of gravel beneath her shoes, the location was silent. Her apprehension spiked.

"How much do you trust me, babe?" His voice was deep and resonant, and very seductive.

"That depends on what you've got in mind. I trust you not to hurt me or cause me any embarrassment," she responded.

His breath brushed against her hair. "Do you trust me with your life?"

Gail gave a nervous laugh. "You're not about to introduce me to some deviant sex practice that involves asphyxiation, piercing or group sex, are you?"

He growled into her ear. "If those are your fantasies, I could be persuaded to try it, but not the group sex. I'm not sharing you with anyone else. Besides, I have something completely different in mind. Are you ready?" He placed a hand beneath her elbow and propelled her forward. She hesitated as a strong whiff of petrol hit her nose.

"Just a little further. Now, take a step up. There are three more steps and then you're there," he said, drawing her leg up to reach the first step. From the echo of metal beneath her feet she guessed she was stepping into some kind of machine. Carver guided her into a snug-fitting chair and snapped a seat belt around her.

"Is it a truck? Are we going for a ride?"

"No, it's not a truck." Gently he removed the scarf binding her wrists. The ominous sound of a door being shut had her on full alert. "You can remove the blindfold now."

Her amused anticipation ramped to terror as Gail realised where she was. "I can't do this, Carver. Please, let me out." The more she fumbled with the seat belt trapping her in place, the worse her hands shook. Carver reached across to calm her.

"Trust me. It will be fine."

Fear drained the colour from her face. His surprise was nothing like she'd imagined. Group sex and auto-eroticism would have been one hundred times more preferable than what she was presented with. "Can you fly this thing?" It was a stupid question, she knew, but it was the only thing that came to mind, the only thing that stopped her screaming or sobbing hysterically.

"Yes." This time his voice was firm. "You have to trust me, Gail, or I can't help you overcome your fear."

"This isn't fair, Carver. If I'd known..."

"If you'd known, you wouldn't have come. I know," he responded gently. "This weekend is about firsts. The first time we made love, the first time I allowed someone to take control of my body, your first time in a hot tub. I need you to trust me one more time. If you don't enjoy your first flying lesson, you get to choose what we do for the rest of the week. If, heaven forbid, you do enjoy it, then I get to choose what we do."

Somehow his words penetrated her brain, confusing her enough to throw off her fear for a few seconds. "You seriously want to spend the rest of the week with me?"

His laser-blue eyes held her captive as he switched on the engine. "Babe, after last night, I want to go to sleep with you beside me and wake up to your beautiful face on the pillow next to mine for as long as I can. I realise we both have commitments beyond next Friday but I see no reason to call a halt to our time together yet."

If he expected more than stunned, angry silence from her, Carver was disappointed. He thought, hoped, believed, that after making tender and prolonged love to her into the early hours of the morning he had won her round. He was mistaken. He endured a whole gamut of emotions flashing across her face before she finally found her voice.

"Let me out," she shouted. "This is crazy and I will not be bullied. I told you last night. I can't stay with you. It's been fun, and I've really had a great time but..."

But what? Her feelings towards him had already lurched towards something she didn't dare analyse. A whole week in his company and who knows what might happen. Most likely she'd end up bound to his bed day and night as his sex-slave. He had that kind of power over her. No. She was a Human Resources Manager with a computer system to install and he was pressuring her too much, placing too much on a relationship that was only ever meant to be a weekend affair. "I'm sorry, Carver. I can't do this. Please let me out."

Carver swallowed his frustration. Accepting failure wasn't in his nature however, recognizing when to back off and bide his time was. There was one thing he was prepared to give up on though. He checked the instrument panel one last time then pulled back on the throttle. "I'm disappointed but I respect your decision, for the time being. The safety parachute is under your chair. Try to control your panic and enjoy the view," he said coolly.

Incapable of doing anything other than stare at him wide-eyed with disbelief, Gail re-attacked her seatbelt. Surely he didn't intend to give her a flying lesson now, not after she'd refused him. He knew how she felt about flying. Nothing would induce her to stay a minute longer in a large plane, let alone a tiny one with propellers on the wings. Tears of panic streamed down her cheeks.

As Carver relayed his flight plan to some distant control tower, she still believed he would stop his sick joke and let her out. When he started to roll the plane down the runway, building up speed for take off, she realised her belief was misplaced. He intended to go through with it. A mixture of shock, terror and a need to pee rendered her speechless as the plane lurched from the ground. She watched his hands on the throttle, guiding the nose up, watched his face, his mouth set in a grim line, then the plane settled into a steep climb and they were soaring high above the valley.

"I'll take her up to a higher altitude then you can take over."

He could have been speaking double-dutch. Her eyes were tightly shut and a silent scream pierced her brain rendering movement impossible, every one of her muscles was clenched tight. "This isn't funny, Carver. Take me back down."

He didn't respond.

At last, she opened her eyes. They were off the ground. They hadn't crashed. The ground spread out below them like a scene from a film. "Are you mad? Surely you're not expecting me to take the controls?"

He turned to look at her, his face resolute. She could tell, from the ice-blue of his eyes, he was angry with her. "Why not? I will tell you what to do. I thought you trusted me."

Affronted by his gall, Gail lost her temper. Who the hell did he think he was and how dare he force her into something she didn't want to do? She'd show him. She wasn't someone he could push around or get angry with just because he didn't get his own way. It took a split second of pure madness to decide. "OK! Tell me what I need to do and I'll do it. But don't ever expect me to trust you again. Once we're back on the ground you're taking me back to San Francisco. This weekend is over."

As soon as they reached the right altitude, Carver demonstrated how to how to lift the nose up, how to steer, how to make the plane turn on a Hong Kong dollar, and how to read the instrument panel. Finally he handed over the controls. At first her fingers were tense, her concentration focused on keeping them in the air, expecting the plane to plummet to the ground the moment she took over. Then, as she flew the plane above the valley and the full panorama of vineyards dotted across the landscape opened up beneath them, incredibly, she started to relax.

After a few, precise instructions, Carver pointed out the big-name vineyards, clearly visible by the sheer acreage they covered. He also pointed out two of the vineyards they had visited the day before. By the time he got her to head north and fly over the lodge they had left earlier that morning Gail was in her element, and wondering why she had ever been scared.

"Wow! That was fantastic. Thank you." Adrenaline soared through her veins as he took back the controls to land.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." Despite his earlier frustration, Carver was just as buzzed. Her excitement was infectious. He'd taken a gamble in arranging the flight, his aim - to help her conquer her fear, a fear he knew was very real. He still had the nail imprints on his hand from Friday to prove it. He was proud of her. Though he wasn't arrogant enough to believe she had accepted the challenge simply because she trusted him. Her decision had been based on anger. His next issue was how to pick up the pieces with her once they were back on terra firma. He hoped he'd done enough to persuade her to spend the week with him.

Carved secured the plane then checked his phone for messages. He was anticipating a call from John Stanton-Hope and he wasn't disappointed. John had left a voice message.

"John's invited us to lunch and a tour of his private vineyard," he announced as he placed a hand against the small of her back and guided her back towards the car. "What do you say? Would you like to see John's estate and continue with our tour or would you prefer me to take you back to San Francisco?" He spoke with a slight hesitation, unsure of how she would respond.

Gail paused alongside the car. Her earlier outburst, prompted by sheer terror, had been irrational and unjust. Carver had every right to be disappointed with her. He'd been kind and generous throughout the entire weekend, not just in terms of money but also his time, his undivided attention, and his companionship. And he'd paid her the ultimate compliment by wanting to spend more time with her - at least until the end of the week. Hell, he'd even helped conquer her fear of flying. And she was going to repay his kindness and patience with a resounding rejection. She couldn't do it.

Aware of the inner battle waging inside her head, Carver reached out to tuck her hair behind her ears. Why was it that the simplest gesture, like her chewing on her bottom lip, had him wanting her again? He knew he shouldn't but he did. Frustrated in body and spirit, he rested his head against her forehead and breathed out deeply. It was sometime before he could speak but when he did he was determined to make her see sense.

"I won't give up, Gail. I want to spend the rest of the week with you and I will do everything in my power to persuade you." To remain so close, her body moulded into his, was probably a big mistake on his part. Her nipples pressed against his chest, heightening his desire. It didn't take much where she was concerned. She had him hot and bothered, and needing to bury himself inside her just by looking at him with those lilac eyes. He recognised part of his reaction was fuelled by her rejection. The rest was down to pure red-necked lust.

He backed her up against the car till the back of her legs hit the bumper. "Jeesuz, Gail. You've got me wanting to strip you naked right now and take you on the bonnet of this damned car in plain sight of everyone."

What started as a tentative kiss became heated and urgent. His hands were all over her, in her hair, cupping the sides of her head to allow his tongue better access her mouth, caressing her breasts and the delightful swell of her buttocks. When he'd invited her to spend the weekend with him, he'd never expected to lose himself so completely to the temptations of her body. Objectivity around the delightfully sexy Gail Harrison was impossible. The more he made love with her the more he wanted her and worse still, he knew she felt the same way. So how, in a straight contest between a hard-nosed business man and an empathic HR manager, could her will-power be stronger than his?

When he finally released her, her breathing was ragged. Gail recognised the devils that drove him. Their little brother sat on her left shoulder, urging her to lie back and let him fuck her on the bonnet of the car in full view of the aerodrome workers and visitors. Thank god an angel with a conscience sat on her right.

"Carver... John... What time is he expecting us?" She didn't need to say any more. He stepped back, enabling her to compose herself.

"In three-quarters of an hour, if I ring him back and accept."

"Make the call. It's what you want. It's the reason why you came to SF."

She still hadn't given him an answer to his more important question. "What if I told you I don't want to share the few remaining hours I have with you with anyone else?"

His expression was intense. So like a sulky child and totally unlike the arrogant, self-assured man she was used to, she couldn't resist. She teased the side of his mouth with her lips and wound her hands around his neck, rubbing her breasts against his chest, as much for her own pleasure as to make him crazier. "Then I'll just have to agree to spend all of my free time until Friday with you, won't I," she sighed as she dragged him into the back seat of the car.

"Thank you for inviting us to lunch with your family, John. Have you had the chance to consider my proposal?" The relaxed smile that lit Carver's face as he shook his rival's hand had nothing to do with John's unexpected invitation to lunch but everything to do with the beautiful woman at his side. His fingers closed around hers as though he couldn't bear to let her out of his sight. Sure, she would be busy with the computer installation at the bank during the day however, the idea of dining in restaurants with her after work, or cosying up in his hotel suite and making love to her all night long more than compensated. It left his days free to concentrate on back-to-back business meetings, and getting John on board with his plans. For the next five night nights, sleep would be a luxury.

"I'm delighted you could join us for lunch at such short notice." John turned to Gail. "And I'm sorry if I have spoilt your plans for a romantic weekend, Ms. Harrison. Perhaps a tour round my private estate and a few samples from my vintage collection will make it up to you."

Gail smiled. "I'm glad you invited us. You have such a beautiful location here, John. And please, there's nothing to make up for. I'm delighted you're seriously considering Carver's proposal. It sounds really exciting, a joint venture between your two companies. But what do I know," she grinned at Carver. "I'm not an entrepreneur."

John noticed the way her body glowed in response to Carver's tactile affection. From the visible flush on her breasts and cheeks, the enhanced colour of her eyes, and her swollen lips, he recognised the tell-tale signs of hot sex when he saw it. "So you won't mind if I drag him away to talk business at some stage?"

"Not at all," she grinned. She could afford to be generous. She was going to spend every night for the rest of the week with Carver.

A blonde, middle-aged woman dressed in jeans and a plain but perfectly-styled shirt stepped out of the sprawling Italianate villa, escorted on either side by a young man and woman. The three of them shared a strong resemblance, though the man, who appeared to be around Gail's age, favoured John in colouring.

John beamed at their approach. Still beautiful, and with a lithe body one would never suspect had given birth to two children, his wife could still hold a candle against other women. It never ceased to amaze him that she could still stir him, even after thirty years of marriage.

"This is Helen, my wife," he grabbed her round the waist and drew her into his side, "and our two children, Rachel and Jon. Jon's just joined the Stanton Ventures straight from university. He's working in Business Development. And Rachel is studying at Harvard. If you don't mind, Carver, I'd like Jon to sit in on our discussions."

"No problem. I'm pleased you've given my proposal consideration. Will Megan be joining us too?"

The sudden tension was evident even though both Carver and Gail tried to hide it. John masked a sigh of frustration. For once, his acute business sense had let him down. Enlisting Megan to learn more about Carver's business ethics had done more harm than good. And justified his decision to move her on to another project.

"No. It's just the six of us today."

Lunch was a leisurely affair, served on a large oak-hewn table beneath a shady group of trees in the centre of a perfectly-manicured lawn. Sensing a kindred spirit in John's wife, Helen, Gail settled into an easy conversation while Carver discussed his ideas for creating a partnership between the two companies with John and his son.

Observing Carver in full business mode again, Gail was struck by the sheer power and charisma he exuded. Perhaps that was why she was attracted to him. His forearms, bronzed and bare beneath his polo shirt, displayed a masculine strength she knew so well, especially when they held her over his face or his cock. And the angular lines of his strong jaw were so familiar they'd become etched into her memory. When she studied his mouth - that full, wonderful, talented mouth that could bring her to her knees and make her moan in ecstasy, she lost herself to the moment. No wonder she'd fallen under his spell so easily. Even John appeared to be eating out of his hand, nodding and restudying key sections of the proposal as Carver warmed to his theme. Then he caught her eye and a smile teased his lips, creating a seismic shift inside of her, just as he had the first time she saw him.

He must have felt it too because he held her gaze in a slow, appreciative stare that took in every inch of her body. Each second heightened her arousal. She craved his physical touch. And that was the moment Gail realised she was doomed because, if he could make her insides a mass of dancing flames just with one look, she knew his fingers would drive her insane with need. She averted her eyes, afraid of what she'd become.

Helen picked up on her inner conflict and smiled. "He's very good looking, your young man. Have you known him long?"

In trouble, and unguarded, Gail told the truth. "I met him on the flight from Hong Long to San Francisco three days ago. And I'm so out of my depth."

Helen chuckled. She covered Gail's hand with her own in a compassionate gesture. "It was the same with John and I. From the first moment I met him I was drawn to his strength and self assurance, not to mention his hot body. We arrived at a Charity Dinner with different partners. Me, with my fiancé, an up-and-coming heart doctor, and John, with the daughter of a business associate. But that wasn't how it ended up. By the time the speeches were over and the dancing started, the engagement was off. John and I just clicked on sight. We sneaked out and spent the whole night making passionate love in a hotel room." She gave a light chuckle at the memory. "Not many people know this but Jon, our son, is the result of that evening. I was twenty one at the time and studying to be a lawyer."

"Wow."

Helen laughed at Gail's astonishment. "When you meet the right person, it just happens like that. I'm a firm believer in fate, though sometimes fate needs a helping hand. John admitted to me much later that he rearranged the table seating plan just so that he could sit next to me. The rest is history."

Gail smiled at the parallels with her own story. "Carver requested a down-grade from First Class to Business Class so that he could sit next to me on the flight." She rolled her lower lip between her teeth, as she searched her conscience. "He invited me to spend the weekend with him as we landed in SF and I couldn't say no. Now he's asked me to stay with him for the rest of this week."

"A man who knows what he wants and isn't afraid to go after it. Being rich and powerful adds to the attraction, though a personality like that can be a little overwhelming at times. How do you feel about spending more time with him? Do you want to?"

Gail considered Helen's words. "I've never met anyone like Carver before. The three days I've spent with him so far have been fantastic. Despite his drive and ambition, he's also gentle and kind, and empowering. But I know this isn't for real. When he flies back to Hong Kong at the end of the week, our relationship will be over and life will go back to normal again. Perhaps that's not such a bad thing. I don't fit into his world and he certainly doesn't fit into mine."

She'd been determined not to be overwhelmed by Carver's charm, or his power and money, -or the undeniably earth-moving sex- yet, the more time she spent with him, the more his attraction took hold. Maybe her obstinate refusal to bend to his will was all part of the chemistry. Whatever it was, it didn't take a second to realise she was caught - hook, line and sinker.

The sound of another female voice brought her rose-tinted world crashing back to reality.

"Damn." Helen stood up from her chair. "What's "Little Ms. Spitfire" doing here?"

"Little Ms. Spitfire?" Gail followed the direction of Helen's eye line. Comprehension dawned as Megan Riley strode across the lawn towards them. Dressed casually yet still designer-chic, the former Mrs. Heath looked flushed and angry.

As John rose to his feet to herd Megan away from his guests, Gail glanced at Carver. If his expression was anything to go by he was furious enough to commit murder. She wondered whether Megan's appearance was an unfortunate coincidence or another trick on John's behalf.

"Did you know Megan and Carver were once married?" she asked. To her relief, the shock on Helen's face confirmed it was the former.

"That would explain a lot," Helen replied. Her pained expression made it clear she wasn't a fan of the former Mrs. Heath either.

"What do you mean?"

Helen shrugged. "John told me that Megan has been pushing him to take over Synchrocity for a several months now. I thought it was purely a matter of acquiring and rationalising the company to strengthen John's business portfolio but, after what you've just told me, I suspect she has unfinished business with Carver."

"That would be my guess too."

The sound of raised voices floated from inside the house on the still afternoon air. Seconds later, John emerged from the house with Megan behind him, two bright red spots of colour flaming her cheeks.

"I'm sorry Carver, Megan insists on talking to you. She won't leave otherwise."

Carver stood his ground. "Still up to your old games, Megan? I can't imagine you or I have anything to talk about."

"Actually there's a lot we need to speak about. Synchrocity for one thing."

Aware that Megan's arrival had destroyed the easy ambience of the afternoon, John tried to recover face. "Why don't Helen and I show Gail around the estate while you two talk in private? Megan, I don't expect you will be here when we get back from the tour so I will see you in my office at 9.30 am tomorrow morning." He turned to face Gail. "Would you like to visit the vineyards now? I did promise you a tour of the estate."

She glanced at Carver for reassurance but he refused to meet her eye. Instead he glared at Megan. What choice did she have? Perhaps it was best to leave them to it. From the looks on both Carver and Megan's faces, fireworks were likely to flare any minute.

"Did you manage to sort things out with Megan?" Gail asked cautiously as they drove away from John's estate. The heat of the afternoon had started to cool with the approach of evening and the scent of the earth from the vineyards around them began to rise. Though Megan had left by the time John escorted Gail back to the villa, Carver remained tight-lipped about his conversation with his ex-wife.

"Yes, thank you."

His manner was so uncharacteristically brusque, Gail wondered whether he had changed his mind about inviting her to spend the rest of the week with him. It wasn't until they reached the outskirts of San Francisco that he finally broke his brooding silence.

"Have you cancelled your hotel booking?" His voice came out harsh.

Gail took a deep breathe. Here it came. His "The sex was great but now it's over" speech. Not if she delivered it first. "Carver, thank you. I've had a great weekend. It's been fun, truly amazing at times. I hope everything goes well with your business discussions with John. If you could drop me off at the Bayside View Hotel, in the Business District, that would be perfect."

Carver frowned. "You're going back on your agreement?"

She glanced across at him, bemused. What exactly was going on in that head of his? Did he want her to leave or not? She tried to make light of the awkwardness she felt. "Like I said, it's been fun. I've enjoyed our time together, and meeting your sister, but I'm not stupid. I recognise when three's a crowd. You and Megan have a lot more to talk about. She's obviously still in love with you. I hope it works out for you both a second time round."

Carver's hand gripped the steering wheel tight, his knuckles so white he started to scare her. Apart from when they were having sex, when raw passion took over from logic, it was the third time in one day she'd seen his control slip and it wasn't pleasant to be on the receiving end.

"You're right. Megan and I still have a lot to talk about but you are missing one vital point. I'm not in love with her, as you seem to think, and I'm certainly not interested in rekindling any kind of relationship with her. You'll have to come up with a better excuse than that to get out of our agreement."

Gail stared out of the windscreen, confused. Was he saying he still wanted to spend the rest of the week with her? That he didn't want to pick up the pieces with his wife? "Whoah! Can we back up a little here? Do you want me to cancel my hotel reservation or not? I thought you'd changed your mind."

Carver gave a sharp bark. It could have been laughter but to Gail it sounded more like cynicism. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

Now he was really pushing her buttons. Gail's cheeks reddened and her lilac eyes flared dark mauve. "Let's see now," she snapped. "How about, you've virtually ignored me since I came back from the tour of John's vineyard. You obviously still have unfinished business with your ex-wife. And thirdly, our relationship was only meant to be for a weekend. You changed the rules, Carver. Not me."

Carver swore as a large 4-by-4 switched lanes at the last minute and cut in front of them. "We'll talk about this later."

"Oh no we won't! We're going to talk about this now. Do you want me to stay with you the rest of this week or not? Because, quite frankly, the idea is losing its appeal."

"The traffic is building up. We'll talk about this rationally when we get to the hotel."

Chapter 6

Thirty minutes later, Carver drew up outside the ultra-modern, ultra-expensive Rosewood Heights Hotel with penthouse views over the Bay. Although his mood had improved, he'd still not said anything since entering San Francisco, and neither had Gail.

She felt as though someone had sucked the air from her lungs. She genuinely liked him and thought he'd liked her. She pasted a smile on her face and tentatively touched his thigh. "I'm sorry, Carver. What goes on between you and your wife is none of my business. I've had a wonderful time. The vineyards, the private lodge, the hot tub, my very first flying lesson - it's been an experience I will never forget. Thank you. I can make my own way to my hotel from here."

Carver stared blindly out of the window, searching for the right words. His hand still clenched the steering wheel. His emotions and, worse still, his logic, were scrambled. He was angry with Megan, and concerned about her power to influence John, and worse, whether she would hold to the threat she'd made before leaving John's estate in a sweeping cloud of dust and gravel. He'd worked hard to build up Synchrocity, and harder still to come up with the right business deal that would allow him to keep hold of it.

And, if that wasn't bad enough, he was angry with himself, and with Gail. What the hell was he thinking? He had neither the time nor the bandwidth to have a fling, or a relationship, or whatever he had going on with Gail. He should be concentrating all his energy and efforts on the deal with John, not on getting a woman into his bed. And yet he wasn't ready to give her up. Meeting Gail had been the one bright thing to come from the weekend. To happen to him in a long, long time.

Taking his silence as her answer, Gail located her handbag and made to get out of the car. She didn't want to leave with bad feeling between them \- she's rather not leave, period - but she had to, for her own sense of self-worth.

Carver sprung the locks to stop her. "No." His voice was hard as he turned to face her and his eyes brooked no debate. "Cancel your hotel reservation. You're spending the rest of the week with me. That's the end of it."

Gail stubbornly shook her head. "No, Carver. You can't order me around. I'm not one of your minions."

His face grew dark and his fists clenched the steering wheel enough to break it in two. When, at last, he calmed down, he turned and placed a hand under her chin, willing her to rethink her decision. "Forgive me. I didn't mean it to come out like that. What I am trying to say is... I want to spend the rest of the week with you. Please. Stay with me until Friday. That's all I'm asking, Gail. Give me another chance."

It was the closest thing to an apology she was likely to hear from him. And, just as she had when Carver invited her to spend the weekend in the Napa Valley, she capitulated, not questioning why. She wanted to remain angry with him, enough to walk away, yet one look at his grim face, one touch of his hand on her cheek, and her anger melted. She was addicted to him, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. And if she got burnt? Then what a wonderful way to go.

"OK."

Chapter 7

While Carver discussed logistics with the Hotel Concierge, Gail wandered through the executive suite checking out each room. The entire space took up half of the twenty-eight floor and totalled slightly less square footage than the private lodge in Calistoga. Not surprisingly, the master bedroom was dominated by a larger-than-king-size bed with crisp, cotton sheets. The adjacent wet room was bigger than Gail's entire lounge back in Hong Kong.

"Do you want to eat out or in tonight?" Carver asked as quickly checked his phone. Between leaving the car to the valet parking and checking in to their suite, he had thankfully regained his good humour.

Gail still felt apprehensive. "I'm pretty tired and I have to prepare for work in the morning. How about we order room service and watch a film or something?"

"Not _too_ tired, I hope?" He closed up behind her and planted a kiss against her ear while his hands captured her hips and roved across her stomach and upwards to cup her breasts.

Gail gave a mental shake of her head. He had the ability to turn it on just like that. And just like that, she wanted him. She had to be crazy. "Carver, about this afternoon..." She stepped out of his embrace. He owed her an explanation for his bad mood before they went any further.

Carver sighed. "It was nothing. Just Megan playing games."

"It was enough to get you riled. What happened?"

Carver shrugged his shoulders and turned away. "Let's just say she has that sort of effect on me."

"But it was more than just a spat between an ex-husband and wife, wasn't it Carver? Talk to me. Tell me what's going on."

She didn't need to see his face. Just his body language was enough. After all the trust she'd placed in him throughout the weekend, he couldn't see clear to place his trust in her. She sat down on the sofa and considered her options. She could phone back her original hotel and make another room booking, effective immediately, or she could stay, and try to forget everything that had happened that fateful afternoon.

Even with his mind half-buried in his own problems, he picked up on her silence and recognized it was a deal breaker. If he didn't do something quickly, she was liable to walk out. And he didn't want her to leave. The truth was he wanted her more that he cared to admit. Her body, her sense of humour, her company - the total wilful, beautiful, sexy package. Fuck Megan. She had a lot to answer for.

He pulled out a chair from the lounge table and swivelled it round to sit facing her, his elbows resting on his knees. "I'm sorry. I owe you an explanation. My relationship with Megan has always been flammable. She has a unique ability to press all my buttons. But one thing I'm emphatic about - I don't want her getting in the way of our relationship. Megan and I were over a long time ago."

Gail studied him. He spoke with sincerity yet he was still holding something back. She shook her head, hoping he would understand. "That's the thing. We don't have a relationship, Carver. We're having sex, that's all. Until Friday morning when you return to Hong Kong."

"That's rather blunt." Her honesty was disconcerting.

"Well, what else would you call it, Carver? It's a finite arrangement."

"I'd call it a wonderful, sexy fling, one which I'm enjoying very much. I prefer to live in the here and now and not think about anything else. Can't you?"

"I can. But I can't forget that we're very different people. You have your company to salvage and I have a computer system to install."

"Which gives us just five nights together," he returned with a rueful grin. "Look, Gail, the last thing I expected was to come face to face with my ex-wife not once but twice this weekend. Yes, I was upset this afternoon. I told you before, I like to be in control and I meant it. She wants something that I'm not prepared to relinquish. More importantly, I don't want our time together to be tainted by her nasty games." He stood up and drew her into a heat-inducing kiss, intended to chase all further doubts and questions from her mind.

It worked. She gave herself to him willingly. When he kissed her like that, she could forgive him anything, especially when his kisses made her feel so damned horny. Didn't they say make up sex was always the best? Judging by the way his fingers were snaking up her spine, she was about to find out.

"You really are insatiable," she sighed, running her hands down the length of his back to his butt.

"Insatiable for you," he grinned.

As he pulled her against his chest, she discovered exactly what he meant. He was fully primed and ready for action. She allowed him to back her against a table and slowly peel away her clothes with his mouth, teeth and fingers until she wore only a bright red thong, a matching bra, and a heavy flush of arousal across her face and neck.

"So this control thing you've got going on, does it extend to every aspect of your life or is it just sexual?"

Carver's eyes glittered and his smile became predatory. "Would you like to find out? I have a feeling you would get a lot of pleasure of out the experience."

Gail couldn't help but grin back. "I'd like to understand what's so important about being in control?"

Admiring the curves and dips of her body, he eased her onto the table top and ran his forefinger across her thong-covered sex. "It's all about trust and pleasure," he said, rubbing deep into her folds while he held her gaze. "You put your trust completely in me and I give you the maximum pleasure your body can cope with." He bent his head to nip the side of her neck with his teeth and then soothed the pain with his tongue.

God, she was already there. "What do you get from it, Carver? Apart from the control?"

"Control is everything. I get to tell you when you can come and when you can't, and have the pleasure of watching your body respond to my fingers, my mouth, my tongue, or my cock inside of you. You give me your body to do with as I please and I make sure that you experience the ultimate sexual pleasure until your body is boneless. What more could a man ask for?

Increasing the pressure, he made sure she was panting and thoroughly wet for him before crossing the room to retrieve the two silk scarves he'd used to tie her with earlier.

"Hey," she protested as he walked away. "You can't leave me like this? I want you inside of me now, Carver."

He smiled. "No can do, sweetheart. This is not a race to the finish line in ten seconds flat. You wanted to find out what it was like to give someone else control and I want to take my time exploring every inch of your body and making you come. Now turn around and close your eyes," he commanded.

Gail folded her arms across her breasts. "The last time I did that, I ended up having a flying lesson. You might take me to the top of the building and push me off without a parachute. Or tie me to the bed and spank me."

Carver grinned his oh so incredibly sexy grin again. "You never know, you might like it - the spanking that is." Tying her wrists quickly behind her back, he pulled her against him and gripped her buttocks beneath her thong, rolling the soft fleshy mounds in his hands while grinding her into his erection. "Why don't we find out?" He flipped her over his knee and pulled her thong to one side. Already the tiny bud of her clit was protruding, pink and wet, demanding his attention. He circled around it with his thumb, enjoying her pant and squirm across his knee.

"Are you ready?" He moulded his hand against the curve of her soft, creamy buttocks, sizing up the fleshiest, most vulnerable parts.

"Do I have any choice?"

"No. I've decided you need to be punished for disobeying me this afternoon."

The first blow hit her on the full curve of her buttocks. It wasn't hard but it stung, causing ripples of pain to radiate through her bare skin. The second one hit on the top of her thighs, catching her clit. Pain sliced through her, followed by an odd sense of euphoria as Carver massaged her reddened flesh with gentle fingers that prolonged the sensation. His other hand fondled her breasts, easing them out over the top of her bra cups, until her nipples were honed to fine pouting points. In truth, she could have stood up at any time. She wasn't bound and Carver wasn't holding her down with any force. But each time his fingers targeted the top of her thighs and clit, it brought her closer and closer to orgasm.

Just when she thought she would come, Carver hauled her to her feet and untied her. She could see, from the outline of his cock against his trousers, that he was heavily aroused. With trembling legs and hands, she reached down to cup him. "Did any one tell you, Mr. Heath, you have a body to die for? You're wearing way too many clothes for my liking." Her voice was breathy as she regained a little of her composure.

The sex god smirk was back. "I thought you'd never notice." He tugged his polo shirt over his head, revealing his well-developed chest and stomach muscles.

Gail ran her fingers across his chest, reading each ridge as though it was Braille and sighed. "You must work out a lot to get muscles like these." She bent her head and flicked her tongue across his tiny brown nipple, at the same time raking a fingernail around the other one. She knew she had him right where she wanted him when his chest started to rise and fall.

Enjoying the balance of control, she raked her nails down his stomach to the waist band of his trousers and eased down the fly. Immediately his long, thick cock sprang out into the palm of her hand. When she traced the raised ridge of the vein running the length of his shaft with her fingernail, a bead of pre-cum formed on the tip. "How about we exercise this muscle for a while?

"You won't hear me complaining." He stole a sharp breath as her fingers slipped around his girth.

"You might if you knew what I had in mind," she said. She dragged his trousers and underwear down to his ankles.

To delay the moment that she took his cock into her mouth, he cupped her jaw with both hands and held her gaze. "Baby, you can do your very worst to me and I'll never complain." He stepped back to quickly remove the rest of his clothes.

"My very worst? OK. Let me see." She glanced around the room looking for inspiration. "Why don't we take this into the bedroom?"

Clearly she had some fantasy playing out in her head. So did Carver. He picked her up by the waist, wrapping her legs around his waist to penetrate deep with one single movement. In that instant, with her body wrapped tightly around him, his mind and body waged war. The bedroom was too far, the sofa was closer. Using his thighs and upper body strength to support her, he laid her down on the sofa without breaking contact and, pressed her hands above her head, enabling him to rock into her at his own leisurely pace.

Each time she arched her back and pressed up against him, craving total contact, he kissed her face, her neck and breasts to satisfy her need. There was something about making love to her, feeling the fragrant warmth and soft curves of her body, that was like a drug. And gliding in and out of her tight, sexy core, feeling her hips undulate beneath him as she matched his pace, fed his addiction. He released her hands to bury his face into the dip between her breasts and inhaled her scent. "I'm going to make love with you all night long, baby. Over and over."

Gail sighed. She was so aroused and so wet. His deep, lazy strokes, aimed at stimulating each nerve-ending with absolute precision, stretched and filled her. It wasn't fast and furious as their previous love-making had been but thorough, pleasuring every sensitive cell in her body until she felt as though she was living, breathing, and feeling everything through his skin.

Carver sensed it too. The time for sweet, languid passion was over. He drew back and stood up to pull her to her feet then lifted her onto his cock again, supporting her weight with his upper thighs and arms. The route to the bedroom hit a temporary diversion when she offered her breasts to his lips. The feel of her taut, sensitive nipples inside his hot mouth, coupled with the scent of her skin and the pulse of her body around his cock, was better than anything he could imagine.

"Oh baby, you feel so good," he muttered against her lips, as he rocked his hips, pressing deeper into her centre. He stopped and leant her up against the wall to thrust harder, while he watched the mauve colour of her eyes grow darker. "Fuck, baby, I don't want to stop. You feel too good."

"Then don't," she implored, loving the way his size and rhythm laid claim to her body. She sucked his ear lobe into her mouth and flicked it with her tongue just as he'd done to her clit throughout the weekend.

Somehow they made it to the bedroom. The need to possess her, and for her to possess him, intensified between the sofa and the soft, super-large bed. He tipped her back onto the sheets and pulled her legs against his shoulders to thrust with deep, thickening strokes that had him grunting for release. Gripped tightly by the thighs, Gail vocalised her own pleasure. Her fingers gripped the sheets and she arched her head back into the mattress, her creamy breasts bouncing with each thrust of his hips. It was too much. She needed him to take the final step.

Experiencing a sudden rush of superhuman power, Carver increased up the pace. "God, baby, I don't want to come, but you feel too wonderful. I can't hold back any more."

He reached one hand down to the apex of her thighs and found the sweet, juicy bud that would hasten her release. Between his fingers and his cock, he gave her everything he had left to give. And then came the explosive release and a blinding sense of oneness, as he tipped his head back and gave in to his climax. Afterwards, as he slumped on top of her, his body spent, he held her tight, living in the moment.

Cradled with her back against Carver's chest on the king-size bed, sporting matching bathrobes, Gail sighed with contentment. A bowl of fresh strawberries and cream lay to one side and an eighties comedy ran on the huge plasma television hanging on the wall opposite. She felt decadent, sated and thoroughly indulged.

She dipped a plump ripe strawberry into the cream and twisted from the waist to feed it to him. "Of all the things I anticipated from my visit to SF, being here with you like this was not one of them."

Carver grinned as he savoured the sweet, sharp flavour of the juicy fruit on his tongue. "I knew exactly what I wanted to do with you the moment I caught sight of your sexy ass bent over your bags." Yeah, and right now he wanted to do it again.

She tilted her head back to look at him and frowned. "I was seated when you boarded the plane. Aren't you mixing me up with Gloria, your accommodating air hostess?"

"No," Carver defended. "You were in the Executive Lounge. And honestly, from first sight I wanted to bury myself so deep between those gorgeous buttocks of your, it would take a crane to prise us apart. Then I saw your face." Brushing his fingers down her cheek to hook the neckline of her robe, he took a gamble. There was something he needed to know. "You're a beautiful woman, both inside and out. I'm surprised no-one has persuaded you to marry them yet."

His words made her skin prickle. "Why do you say that? I'm nothing special."

Carver drew back. She had tensed on him. Not exactly the reaction he had expected. He forced himself to take a mental step backwards. "You're wrong. You are a very special lady. I want to find out what makes you tick, your likes, your dislikes. I already know that you were scared of flying, and that you are a consummate professional when it comes to your job."

Still on the defensive, Gail frowned. "How can you know that? You've not seen me at work."

Carver shook his head and smiled. "I don't need to. I've watched how you interact with people and how they respond to you. You have drive and ambition but not to the extent that you'd climb over others' backs to get what you want. You're open, honest, intelligent and funny. You're empathic, willing to listen to the other person's point of view, and you give so much more than you take. On top of all that, you're gutsy and you have a sense of adventure. And the best bit is, you're as sexy as sin. I just can't keep my hands off you." He folded her back into his chest, so close she could have fit him like a second skin, and pressed his mouth to the side of her head until her tension released. "I know I have to return to Hong Kong on Friday at the latest but right now I don't want to think about it."

Gail tilted her head to look at him. The sincerity in his luminous blue eyes was evident. "I will need to focus on my work for the rest of the week. I'll be busy with the system roll-out. I may not have much free time."

Carver eased his cheek against her hair. "Baby, I'll take whatever you can give me. I have a number of business meetings lined up during the week, including another one with John. And at some stage I need to meet up with Megan. But my nights are all yours."

Once again, the mention of his ex-wife cast a shadow over them. "I thought John had put her on another project."

"He has but there are a few loose ends I need to sort out with her before John and I can sign on the dotted line." His mind flashed back to the harsh words he'd exchanged with Megan at John's estate. It wasn't going to be easy but he had his lawyers in Hong Kong working on Megan's ultimatum right now.

Against her instincts, Gail let it go. Whatever feelings he harboured towards his ex-wife, it was no good stirring them up. It just made him withdraw and she didn't want to go through that again. "Surely John is onboard with your proposal? He seemed to be very enthusiastic about it over lunch."

"I think I've convinced him we can work together. I'd prefer a partnership or a joint-venture to a complete take-over. Our two companies make a good match and by combining technologies we can build a stronger, single company that can lead the future. Hopefully, we can conclude the discussions by Wednesday and move on from there."

"It must be exciting to build up a company from scratch and see it grow into something innovative and socially impactful." She picked up his hand and lined his palm up against hers to measure its length and size against her own then tipped it back to trace the tips of her fingers over the network of tendons and veins from his wrists to his knuckles. He had such sexy hands, especially when they were on her naked skin. Who'd have known a man could make such a claim?

"That's one of the reasons why I won't let Synchrocity go," Carver replied. "I believe in what we're doing and a merger with John's company will enable us to make a huge difference for generations to come." He sensed her mind was elsewhere, not realising it was on him and his touch. "But what about you? What happens after SF? What are your plans?" He swept her hair back from her neck with his free hand and nuzzled his lips against the sensitive skin below her ear. It seemed so natural, as if they'd known each other for ever, instead of barely three days.

"It depends how well the installation goes here. If I can get the testing and final upload completed by Friday, I'll fly on to New York Saturday morning and repeat the process there. It should get quicker over time."

"What if it doesn't?"

"Then I'll have to stay on here until I get it working. After New York I'm heading to London, hopefully in time for my parents' thirty-fifth wedding anniversary and then back to Hong Kong."

Carver looked surprised. "Thirty-five years is a long time to be married to one person. My parents divorced when I was six."

"It's not so unusual. Mum and Dad would be the first to admit they've had to work hard at their marriage but thankfully they're still in love," Gail countered.

"So, what about brothers and sisters? Or are you an only child - a spoilt rotten brat who lived a fairy tale existence until the kiss of a handsome prince stole her away?"

"Hardly, I have two older brothers. Mark's an engineer and Daniel's an officer in the Special Forces. They're twins, two years older than me."

"And the handsome prince?"

Gail laughed. "If you're trying to find out about my previous relationships, there's not much to tell. At least, not by your playboy standards." She giggled as he circled his tongue in her ear. "Unlike you, I can count all my lovers on the fingers of one hand. But we can play the game if you like, as long as I get to ask first. Let's start with something juicy like "How old were you when you first lost your virginity?"

Carver saw through her ploy and let it go. Their fledgling relationship had been through its ups and downs throughout the course of the day. Now was not the time to push. Over the next few days he intended to find out as much as he could about her. He wanted to know everything. Her first kiss, her first crush, her first lover, whoever had broken her heart leaving her shy of commitment. But, for now, he was content just to be with her. "I thought my sex-life had been pretty well documented."

"Perhaps in recent year's but I want to know the real Carver Heath. Not the one the papers portray."

"I was fifteen and it was my music teacher."

Gail was scandalised. She wriggled upright, leaning into his chest. "Wasn't that statutory rape?"

"Mmmhmm. Though in my defence, I was a big boy for my age."

"I bet you were!" she snickered as her hand slipped inside of his robe to confirm his boast. "Mmmh. Tell me more."

Carver held a deep breath. His body's reaction to her hand was instantaneous and distracting. "Let's just say my mother got fed up with me skulking in my bedroom with a pile of dirty magazines and a bumper box of tissues so she sent me for piano lessons. Mrs. Allcox..." He waited for her to stop sniggering. "It's true, I promise you. I spent three years under her tuition, learning about sex rather than how to play the piano."

"You're kidding me!"

Her hand on his cock was too good. His balls started to ache imagining her mouth gliding up and down on it again. In an attempt to distract her, he slipped his hand inside the neckline of her robe to sweep the pad of his thumb across her nipple. He enjoyed that she stiffened beneath his touch immediately and snuck a light kiss on the side of her mouth to re-enforce the connection.

"It's true. There's only one thing a boy with a keen interest in sex but no practical experience can do when an extremely attractive older woman tries to seduce him. Let's just say she had a unique style of instruction and helped me practice my fingering and tongue technique to perfection."

Gail dissolved into a fit of giggles. She had such a sexy laugh, one he wanted to hear more of. He hands became instruments of torture as he flipped her onto her back and tickled her into submission. It was some time before either of them could speak.

"Do you still play the piano?" Gail asked, causing them both to burst out laughing again.

"What do you think?" He grinned as she fixed her deep lilac eyes on him.

"Did you ever get found out? Didn't your Mum ever guess?" She sucked in her breath as his fingers traced an exploratory path across her breasts causing a deep achey throb to take up residence within her pelvis.

"No, never." Too aroused to maintain a sensible conversation, he grabbed a handful of strawberries and the can of whipped cream. "Get rid of the robe and I'll show you some of the things I learnt."

Chapter 8

The sound of her phone ringing had Gail rifling through her handbag.

"Hey Gail, how's it going? Did you get to Napa Valley over the weekend? What's the weather like? How big is the SF office? Have you met anyone interesting yet?"

Gail laughed. It was typical of Lianne, her colleague and flatmate, to ask so many questions. "Slow down, I've only just got into the office."

She offered a silent prayer that Lianne wouldn't ask why. She couldn't tell her best friend that Carver had waylaid her in the shower first thing, nearly making her late for work. "Hey, one question at a time. It's going fine. Yes, I did visit the Napa Valley vineyards this weekend. The weather is overcast. And the office here is twice the size of Hong Kong..."

She held back on a response to the last question. That answer would have to wait until she got home or until they could speak in private. If she told Lianne she'd spent the weekend with the infamous Carver Heath, serial entrepreneur, multi-millionaire and rampant sex god, and that she was ensconced in a luxury hotel suite with him, instead of on her own in the standard, business-class room the company had booked for her, she would never hear the end of it.

"Such a shame you were on your own."

"Mmmh... Er, how are the wedding plans coming along?" She listened dutifully as Lianne gabbled on about the wedding of the year - that of Lianne and André de Cauzabon. When her flatmate finally ran out of steam, the conversation turned to the real reason why Lianne had called her.

"Did something happen between you and Graham before you left for San Francisco?"Lianne asked. "He's acting really strangely. Some of us are worried about him."

Gail bit her inner lip. Graham was Zeitlinger's IT Manager in the Hong Kong office. He'd been a good friend, one of three people at the office she'd kept company with outside of work. But not any more. She still felt foolish, even though Lianne had tried to warn her about his obsession with her.

She must have hesitated for a second too long. Lianne knew when Gail was holding something back. "Gail? You do know something, don't you?"

"OK, OK, I'll tell you, but this is strictly between us. No-one else must know." Gail took a deep breath before letting it go. "Graham asked me out and I turned him down." Relationships between employees were frowned on at Zeitlinger's. Lianne would understand without Gail having to get into too much detail. At least, that's what she hoped.

"Oh come on, Gail. He's always asking you out or finding a reason to make up a four-some with André and I. And you always turn him down. I don't understand. There's got to be more to it than that."

Gail forced an exasperated sigh past her lips. This was the second most uncomfortable phone call she had ever experienced. The first one being the one with Graham an hour before she boarded the flight to San Francisco. "He did more than ask me out."

An uncomfortable silence filled the line. "What are you trying to say? Oh God, Gail. You didn't _sleep_ with him?"

"No, silly. He proposed."

Gail held her breath waiting for Lianne's outburst to hit her but it was sometime before her friend came back at her.

"Poor Graham."

Gail saw red. "Poor Graham? What about me? I had no idea he was that serious."

"Oh come on Gail. I did warn you."

"Alright, so you did and I should have listened. I guess I just didn't want to hear. God, it was awful. I don't know how I can ever face him in the office again."

The line went ominously silent again. Yes, she should have seen it coming. She was an HR expert, trained to recognise people's behaviour patterns and motives. The longer Lianne remained silent, Gail knew there was something else. "Oh no, what's happened? Is he OK? He hasn't done anything stupid, has he?"

"No, but you might not have to face him in the office. The rumour is, he's applied for a transfer."

Gail wanted to say she was sorry - Graham had been a good friend and colleague - but, truthfully, she was relieved. It was probably for the best. Though, with Lianne getting married and moving out to set up home with André, maybe it was time for her to consider her future too. Perhaps back to London or one of the new offices Zeitlinger's planned to open in Central and Eastern Europe. Then again, maybe it was too soon to decide. She had a global computer system to install first.

"Does Mr. Weng Lee know about Graham's transfer request?" Mr. Weng Lee was the Managing Partner of the Hong Kong branch of Zeitlinger's Bank. As HR Manager, Gail reported directly into him.

"Yes. I think he plans to speak to you. He asked me earlier if I'd heard from you."

Finishing her call with Lianne, Gail checked the rest of her messages. Being so wrapped up with Carver, she hadn't bothered to turn on her phone throughout the weekend except to cancel her hotel reservation. A number of missed calls - all from the same Hong Kong number - registered on the display. She deleted them all without listening and grabbed a cup of coffee on her way to the IT department. Just as she stepped into the lift for the lower ground floor, her phone beeped again. She wasn't surprised to see Graham's name listed as the caller ID. Following her conversation with Lianne, she knew she had to accept the call, if only for peace of mind. She stepped back from the lift.

"Graham. How are you?"

"Gail. Where have you been? I've been trying to get hold of you all weekend."

If she had been expecting him to be contrite, he wasn't - his tone was angry. Well, damned if she was going to apologise. She took a deep breath to try to calm down. "I took some time off to tour the Napa Valley." She bit the bullet. "So, is it true, Graham? Are you thinking of transferring offices?"

"How did you find out? No-one else is supposed to know."

His response confirmed two things. One - the rumour was true, and two - she couldn't drop Lianne in it. "I work in HR. I was bound to find out. Are you sure this is what you really want?"

Uncharacteristically, Graham snapped back. "You know what I want."

Gail shut her eyes against the image of his shocked face as she turned down his proposal. She'd hoped she'd made herself clear that night, and again before she'd boarded the plane to SF, but it seemed Graham still hadn't accepted her rejection. Rather than let him cling to false hope, Gail went for closure. "Graham, we discussed this before I left. You are the kindest, most honest person I know, and I hate hurting you like this. But I'm not in love with you. Not in the way you want me to be. I'm sorry."

Graham was undeterred. "I'm not giving up. I know you've been hurt in the past. But I won't let you down. Just give me a chance to prove it. I'll withdraw my transfer request and we'll get married. I love you, Gail. Please don't do this to me."

She heard his voice crack and hated herself for causing him pain. Tears caught in the back of her throat, the texture and taste of a ball of thick steel wool. She ducked into an empty office and shut the door. "Please, Graham. You have to stop this now. I can't make myself fall in love with you and, even if I could, I'm not right for you. There's someone special out there for you. It's just not me. I'm sorry."

"You're wrong." His voice broke completely. "You _are_ the one, and I'll _make_ you love me. I have enough love for the both of us. I want you to be my wife, my lover, the mother of our children, the person I grow old with for the rest of our lives. What you are doing is wrong, Gail. We're meant to be together."

Even from thousands of miles away she could hear his heart breaking into a million pieces. Each single, tiny shard pierced her heart. Why couldn't she love him in return? Like a mischievous child, the answer snuck up and kicked her up the rear. She couldn't love Graham because, despite all best intentions, she was falling for Carver.

It was time to be tough. "Graham, I'm sorry. I wish it didn't have to be like this but I really, _really_ don't love you. And _nothing's_ going to change that. Perhaps you should go ahead with the transfer." She took a deep breath to control her tears. "I'm truly sorry, Graham. I hope you find what you're looking for. Goodbye."

Standing with her back against the door for support, she took time to compose herself before heading for the IT department. Graham's call had wrung her out. The person she prided herself on being was a lie, a corporate facade. In truth, she was shallow, incapable of giving anything of herself, and utterly sick at heart. She had rejected Graham in exchange or a week of raunchy sex with a man so far out of her league it was laughable. Well, at least Lianne would laugh if she knew.

Carver was on the phone when Gail arrived back at the hotel at seven o'clock that evening. Apart from her call with Graham, the day had qualified as a reasonable success. The first test had gone well and another one was planned overnight. The results would determine whether she could progress to the next phase. Despite her earlier misgivings about the superficiality of her relationship with Carver, the moment she saw him her insides lit up. She gave him a quick smooch on the side of his mouth and headed to the bedroom to change out of her work clothes.

"How did it go?" he called after her.

"OK, and you?" She slipped into an old t-shirt and a pair of jogging shorts until they made plans for the evening. "Did you speak to John?"

He appeared in the doorway of the master bedroom and unbuttoned his shirt collar and cuffs. "Yes. Unfortunately Megan is stirring things up again. I may have to reschedule our dinner meeting with him."

"Well, count me out." She helped herself to an apple in the complimentary fruit bowl. "Your ex-wife is not one of my biggest fans. If you want this deal to go through it's best not to antagonise her with my presence."

Carver shook his head as he rolled his shirt cuffs up to his elbows. "My ex-wife is not my concern. You are. Are you OK? You seem a bit down." His sharp eyes noticed the lack of colour in her cheeks and the dark smudges beneath her normally vibrant eyes.

"I'm just a bit tired. The jet lag's probably caught up with me."

"In that case, I want you in my arms, or better still, naked beneath me, in bed." He grabbed her by the hips and pulled her in his arms. He could think of no better way to while away the night than in bed with a beautiful, sexy woman.

Gail snaked her arms around his neck. What was it about him that had her creaming her panties the second he laid hands on her? "The "naked and beneath you" bit will have to wait. I'm starving. What do you fancy eating tonight?"

Carver gave her one of his wickedest looks. "I fancy eating you but if you're too tired..."

"Later, you poor sex-starved brute. Right now I need you to feed me."

"How about Lebanese?" He grazed his fingers up and down her spine, aware exactly of what his touch did to her. He kept up the pressure with his fingers and his mouth for several minutes before he was forced to take pity on her growling stomach. "OK, you win. Throw some clothes on that luscious body and I'll take you out to wine you and dine you."

A light drizzle started the moment they stepped out of the hotel. By the time they arrived at the restaurant just a few blocks away, the rain had turned into a heavy downpour. The tiny shops and grimy apartment blocks of the district made a stark change to the swish office building and luxury hotels where they were staying. Taxis sped by, spewing torrents of water against the sidewalk, while people jostled to avoid the deluge. Even in the rain, the area teemed with life. The vibrant colours and noise reminded Gail of Hong Kong.

The restaurant was tiny - wedged between an internet cafe and an Arabic deli. It also doubled up as a bar, with a long counter running the length of one wall. "Do you like mezze?" Carver asked as he placed a hand on the small of her back and steered her towards a discrete table away from the noisy bar.

"Right now, I'm so famished, I'll eat anything." He'd surprised her again. In her mind, she'd envisioned a chic, five-star restaurant interior-designed by Philippe Starck, with suspended lighting and lots of glass and chrome fixtures. The quaint bar cum restaurant he'd brought her to was a far cry from that. But it was dry, spotlessly clean, and popular with the local Arabic community. Gail picked up the photocopied menu to study it. Most of the dishes she had never heard of before. It didn't matter. The smells wafting from the kitchen told her she was in for a treat.

An elderly waiter, with skin the colour and appearance of tanned leather, arrived to take their order.

"We'll have mezze, please and a bottle of the house red," Carver ordered. He saw her raise her eyebrow at him. "Is that OK? I thought a mezze would give you a chance to sample everything."

Gail smiled. Already Graham's phone call was a distant memory. Tonight, her focus was on Carver and no-one else. "You are full of surprises, Mr. Heath. House wine? Ethnic cuisine? Are you playing down at my level tonight?" She slipped off her shoe and inched her bare toes up his rain-drenched trouser leg.

"For your information, Ms. Harrison, I often eat out at places like this. Besides, I happen to know the house wine in this particular restaurant is exceptional."

"How do you know that?"

"Because John supplies this restaurant from his vineyard. You can thank him for the recommendation the next time you see him." The muscles in his face tensed as her foot worked up his leg and snuck under his balls but he didn't stop her. He merely shifted in his seat to ease the rising discomfort in his trousers, knowing her antics were hidden from the other restaurant guests by the oversized table cloth.

Deciding to test him further, Gail playfully massaged his cock with the tip of her toes. She knew she was facing a reprimand but it was fun to tease him, to shake his cool veneer of self-assurance. It was their first time eating out alone, apart from their picnic in Napa Valley, and, thanks to Carver's busy schedule, it was likely to be their last. The evening felt like a date and she planned to make the most of it. "Do you plan to see Jo and the boys before you fly out?"

"I wasn't planning to but we can go visit them again if you want. We could take the ferry over to Tiburon."

She felt his cock spasm under her foot and tried to keep a straight face as he was forced to hold his breath. "I'd like that. I'm just not sure I'll have much free time. The first trial went well today. We're running another one overnight and then we should be ready to start the next phase. I only asked if you were planning to see her before you leave because I have a small gift for her. A thank you for letting me stay over the first night we arrived."

"You needn't have done that. Though, if you could make time, I know Jo would be delighted to see you again."

"You and Jo are really close, aren't you?"

Carver shifted in his seat and growled. "You are one very wicked girl. If you don't remove your foot from my groin this second I'm going to dive under this table and return the favour. And don't think I wouldn't dare." His voice was low and his eyes flashed as he trapped her ankle with both hands and eased her towards him.

Gail stifled a squeal. Secretly she was thrilled to make him to lose a little of his control. "OK, I promise to behave. You still haven't answered my question."

"I was distracted," he replied sarcastically. He had to shift again to relieve the pressure in his pants as the waiter wheeled out a selection of hot and cold mezze dishes for them to sample. The old man took his time to explain each dish, unaware of the games going on beneath the tablecloth as he laid the plates on the table in front of them. As soon as his task was complete, he shuffled back to the bar to tend to his regular drinking customers.

Carver picked up the conversation. "We've been through a lot together, Jo and I, especially after our parents divorced. It's natural that we would be close. We support each other. If I had a problem I know Jo would be there for me and likewise, I'd be there for her."

Gail's mind was elsewhere. "I keep detecting a faint English accent in your voice. Have you always lived in Hong Kong?"

"I was born there but no, I was educated in the UK and later in America. When I set up as an entrepreneur I could have lived anywhere but I like the Asian culture best. I like the cut and thrust of doing business with the Chinese whilst having one foot firmly based in the Western world. I also enjoy the buzz of everything Hong Kong has to offer."

Gail was intrigued. "Tell me more about Carver Heath, the man - not the entrepreneur."

Carver smiled. "What do you want to know?"

"How about your favourite music, your leisure interests? What do you do to relax?"

"I like all types of music. From classic rock to soul, country ballads to opera. I collect wine, fly planes and I run half-marathons. To relax? To relax, I make love with beautiful women."

The way he raked his eyes appreciatively over her body made Gail's cheeks glow. While the setting was hardly the most romantic, the food and his company was. She relaxed back into her chair.

"And how about you?"he returned. "I know about your family, your work. I know you're interested in wine but of your likes and dislikes I know nothing. For example, do you like Lebanese food? What do _you_ do to relax?"

"I've never tried Lebanese food before but this is really good." She helped herself to a spoonful of feta cheese doused in olive oil and mint, followed by a crispy-coated falafel. "To relax? I hang out with my flat-mate Lianne, and some of my work colleagues. We usually hit the bars and club circuit in Central on Friday and Saturday nights \- I love dancing. Work keeps me busy during the week though I go to the gym when I can."

"That doesn't really tell me much about you as a person," Carver challenged. "What's your favourite music, your favourite film? Do you like err... cooking for example? Do you prefer cerebral pursuits that challenge your mind or physical activities that make you hot and sweaty?"

The devilish look he gave her made the wine slip the wrong way down her throat. Choking into her napkin, she struggled to reply. "My favourite music is rock, though when I'm working out I enjoy something with a livelier rhythm. When I'm dancing, I like Latin or classic disco. I don't have a favourite film per se but I like romantic comedies, action- adventures, and thrillers. I like do cooking - I cook a mean mossiman curry, though desserts are my forte. And as for leisure activities, I enjoy indulging in whatever comes along."

The conversation continued in a light hearted vein until Gail declared she couldn't eat another bite. The rain had stopped and the bright lights of San Francisco beckoned.

"Why don't we get this boxed up to take back to the hotel and take a leisurely walk down to the Pier."

Standing against a rail, with Carver's arms wound tightly around her, Gail stared across the shimmering water towards Alcatraz. The former prison was bathed in a combination of moonlight and floodlights. She couldn't have been more content. The warmth of his body tucked against hers, the subtle tang of his after-shave, the overwhelming sense of rightness. She wanted to bottle the moment for an eternity. She twisted in the circle of his arms and stared into his eyes, her heart hammering in her ears. "Thank you, Carver, for everything. It's been a magical night." She teased a light kiss across his lips.

Carver leant in for more. The feeling was mutual. Throughout the day, she had managed to occupy his thoughts to the exclusion of anything else. She was under his skin and in his mind far more than he should allow. What had started off as a sexy flirtation between two consenting adults had gone beyond a two-night stand. While his mind argued that she was a temporary obsession, his body demanded more. Resorting to cold logic would make it easier for him to pack his bags and leave first thing Friday morning, but was he ready to walk away, never to see her again? Right here, right now, it was something he didn't want to think about.

"I keep thinking that this is a dream and I'm going to wake up any moment," Gail sighed. "We only have three more nights together."

Carver caressed the back of her hand. "And I plan to spend every one of those nights with you. I'm warning you though. I'm going to have you in my bed so often you'll crawl on your hands and knees and beg me for mercy. In fact, let's take this conversation back to the hotel right now or we'll be arrested for public indecency."

Later, between the crisp cotton sheets of their larger-than-king-size- bed, Carver made good on his promise, showing her with his body, all the things he couldn't voice out loud. And afterwards, with the cool, blue light of the full moon illuminating the contours of her skin and bouncing off the bedroom walls, he held her tight, his arms and legs entwined with hers, and watched her sleep.

Chapter 9

Carver put down his phone. "I've just spoken to John. He's confirmed dinner for tomorrow night, at an Italian restaurant in Sausalito. So we have tonight and Thursday night to ourselves. Is there anything you would you like to do this evening?"

They had shared a light breakfast, remnants of the previous night's meal, on a table in front of a window overlooking the Bay and now Gail was ready to leave for work. She slipped into her high heels and crossed the room to plant a kiss on his cheek as he finished his coffee. He wore only a towelling robe and his hair was still wet from the shower he'd had not long before. He slid his chair back and trapped her between his legs and the table, his hands moulding the contours of her shapely buttocks.

"Fuck baby, are you wearing stockings under that skirt?" He didn't need to touch her naked skin for her to stir his most primal instincts.

"Yes, why?"

He ran his hands up the inside of her skirt to verify her answer, his cock emphatic in its response. "What time do you have to get to work this morning?"

"I planned to arrive early so that I could catch up on my emails."

To hell with convention, he wanted her now. The hotel could sue him for any breakages. "Your emails can wait. We haven't finished breakfast."

With a rapid sweep of his arm he pushed aside the breakfast things and lifted her onto the table, easing her skirt over her hips. Without missing a beat, he slid his fingers past the crotch of her panties into her slick, wet centre and pressed his head between her legs. Immediately she started to moan as his tongue and teeth found her clit.

"Oh baby, you are too good at this."

"I aim to please."

Her juices coated his fingers helping him to glide deeper. When she thrust her hips to meet his mouth and held his head in place, needing more, he gave her exactly what she wanted, incapable of denying her. Her taste was addictive, as were her soft cries of ecstasy. His self-control unravelled faster than he anticipated. Standing up, he undid the belt of his robe, and drove into her with one powerful movement.

The instant her body wrapped around him, so hot and tight, the intensity on the sensitive nerve endings of his shaft made him groan out loud. Too many clothes. He wanted her naked. He had to taste and feel her skin, to hear his name on her lips. His fingers fumbled over the buttons of her shirt. When they held fast, he ripped the fabric from her body in frustration while his tongue invaded her mouth. She accepted him greedily, tasting herself on him as his hands sought her breasts. She wore a front fastening bra which moulded them into perfect plump pillows of soft flesh. He made quick work of the fastening, easing the straps from her shoulders to bare her upper torso.

He coaxed her nipples into hard peaks with his fingers before taking them into his mouth, biting and sucking like a ravenous babe. As her hands roved across his chest, in his hair and down the length of his spine beneath the bathrobe, the sensation of her muscles gripping his cock intensified. The last remnants of his finely balanced control shattered. And then he soared into a vast expanse of space, a fanfare of fireworks and unfamiliar emotions exploding across his mind and body.

Breathing hard, in the aftermath of passion, Gail shook her head. "Carver, that wasn't fair. The last thing I can think about is work now."

Carver gave her a wicked smile. "Good, because work is the last thing on my mind when I make love with you. Would you like me to help you shower?"

Gail salvaged the remnants of her blouse with a look of mock-despair. "That was my favourite shirt. You are a bad, bad man, Carver Heath. What am I going to do with you?"

Carver checked his watch. "Perhaps we should save that thought till later tonight or you really will be late for work." Helping her off the table, he tapped her on the bottom as he released her.

Watching her sashay through the door towards the lift, Carver knew he had it bad. For two days now he'd made love with her without using a condom. And she'd let him. He knew she was taking oral contraception. He'd spotted a packet tucked into her make-up bag in the bathroom at the lodge, though they'd never discussed it. They hadn't discussed their sexual health either. He just trusted her, knowing that for all her enthusiasm and daring, she was not promiscuous. Besides, to make love to her without physical barriers was better than anything he could have imagined. It was also a sign that, despite all his logical arguments, he'd bought into a relationship more than he should have. The sound of his mobile phone brought him crashing back to reality. With a sinking feeling of doom, he accepted Megan's call.

"We have a change of schedule for Wednesday and Thursday."

Gail dropped her bag on the floor and followed the sound of his voice into the bathroom. "We have?" He was partially dressed and in the midst of shaving but that didn't stop her walking up behind him to wrap her arms around his waist and kiss him on the side of his jaw. As usual, he smelt gorgeous. She sniffed his skin appreciatively.

"Did you just sniff me?" Carver laughed at her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

"Mmmhmm" She nuzzled her face into his back and inhaled the scent of his skin. "I love the smell of your after-shave."

"Technically, it's not aftershave - I haven't finished shaving. It must be my shower gel."

Gail twisted underneath his raised arm, the one holding the razor, and stood between him and the bathroom sink. "Technically, I don't care. You still smell good enough to eat." She slid her fingers under the hem of his polo shirt to circle his tiny nipples.

"Hey, that's not fair," he protested. "I have my hands full."

She lowered her right hand to give his cock a playful rub. "So have I. So what's this change of schedule? Does it affect tonight?"

"No, not tonight but John can't make it Wednesday so I've rescheduled for Thursday night instead."

Gail's eyes flickered shut for a second. "Our last night together." She hated the thought that in a two days time Carver would be on his way back to Hong Kong and their sexy fling would be over. They'd agreed to live their relationship in the here and now, neither of them thinking beyond Friday morning. But it was looming up fast. Perhaps spending their last evening together with John and Helen would make things easier. No intense emotion and false promises, and definitely no tears. Well, not until after he'd gone.

"I know, baby. I'll make it up to you tonight and tomorrow night. So what would you like to do this evening?" He put down the razor and pulled her in closer for a lathery kiss. When he finally pulled back to draw breath, foam clung in globules to her hair, to her cheeks and chin whereas he sported almost none. "Very fetching. You look like you've been out in the snow," he laughed.

Gail twisted round to check her reflection in the mirror. "This means war." Grabbing the canister of aftershave foam, she hit the button and fired. The first squirt hit him in the chest. The second, on the side of his head. She burst out laughing and slipped out his grasp.

"I'll get you for that." Armed with a bottle of foaming shower gel, Carver squirted her back. In no time the bathroom became a war-zone with foam and liquid soap either clinging or dripping down the tiles, the towels and onto the floor. Of the two of them, Gail came off worse. Her hair clung to her scalp and cheeks in one gooey mess, and the clothes she had worn to work stuck to her like a second skin, transparent and sculpting every curve, much to Carver's satisfaction.

Out of ammunition, she collapsed on the bathroom floor in a fit of the giggles. Carver slumped down beside her. He looked like he'd just had the time of his life.

"I think we may have some explaining to do when the housemaids come in tomorrow morning," he chuckled.

"It's only soap," Gail protested and burst into another peal of laughter. He had shaving foam in his hair, down his shirt and somehow she'd managed to give him a Father Christmas beard.

"Did I ever tell you, you have the sexiest, naughtiest laugh I've ever heard?"

"I bet you say that to all the women you invite back to your hotel." She burst out laughing again.

Carver's face went serious. He shook his head. "No, only you, baby." He sobered up. He spent all day convincing himself that, come Friday morning, he could walk out the door and not look back, yet the moment he was with her again, she turned his world on its head, enough to make him want another extension to their arrangement.

Not wanting the light-hearted mood to dissolve, Gail picked herself up from the floor and pulled him to his feet. "Come on. We better get cleaned up if you're going to help me paint the town red tonight."

"I am?" It was news to him.

She pushed him into the wet room area fully clothed and turned on the shower taps. "Yes. I'm going to wine and dine you. We're going to see the sights. Then I'm going to take you dancing. My treat." She stepped in behind him and turned him round. "You do dance, don't you?" She shimmied seductively down the length of his torso and wiggled her way back up, clutching his hips.

"Doesn't it take two to tango?"

"That's right, Mr. Harrison. And I'm an expert at Latin dancing." She grabbed his buttocks and pulled him in tight to flip a leg around his hip, her sex pressed against his semi-erect cook. Her hands moved to his hair, sweeping the soap and water away from his eyes.

Carver needed no prompting. "I think this would be better if we were naked." He stripped of his clothes, one by one and dropped them in a pile behind them.

"Put your hands up against the shower column," she demanded. "I have a few ideas I want to try out before we hit the town." From nowhere she produced one of his ties she'd used on him at the private lodge in Napa Valley.

"Should we have a safe word?" he teased, relaxed and amused with the situation, as she reached up on tip toe to bind his wrists to the metal piping.

She checked his hands to make sure they were secure. Her expression was playful, ramping up the tension between his legs several notches. "We won't need one. I won't hurt you, I promise."

Carver laughed. "OK, woman. Do your worst."

She flicked on the hot and cold taps to get the temperature just right. "How does that feel?"

"Weird." Her fingers inched down his chest to his cock in teasing circles that would have driven him crazy under normal circumstances. Bound and unable to return the favour, the usual sensations caused by her touch were heightened.

"Too tight?"

"No," he exhaled. The anticipation of what she would do next made his skin sizzle. His heart thumped loudly in his chest as his cock reared and brushed against her thighs. He watched her remove her bra and thong, and stand naked in front of him under the light flow of water.

As usual, the sight of his fine body sent her pulse-rate soaring. She skimmed her hands over his chest. The water was warm and the scent of his body turned her on. Taking the shower head from the wall, she worked on his back, from the top of his shoulders to his sculpted ass cheeks, working her fingers into the dip of his butt crack and down the back of his thighs to his heels. Then she turned him round and pulled him closer to slip her tongue between his lips.

Content to fence back, he tasted the scent of his skin on her mouth. He sucked in a deep breath as her lips diverted to his neck and arrived at his smooth, wet nipples. Suddenly she was like a tigress. Her mouth was hot and needy, her hands everywhere. He tried to kiss her back but she stayed just beyond reach, her sole focus on making love to him with her mouth and fingers until all he could do was stand with his feet wide for balance and take each bite, suck, lick and nibble she subjected him to as she familiarised herself with every curve and crevice of his body. It seemed she took extra care with his cock. Making sure the soap glided easily as she stroked his shaft and balls until he was rigid and ready to come by her hand alone.

Rinsing off the last remnants of the soap, Gail turned the water down low and repositioned the shower head to kneel in front of him. She replaced her hands with her mouth, working delicate nibbles across his stomach and down to his cock. When she placed her lips around his silky-smooth tip and sucked hard, he swore out loud, making her smile. Could she get him to beg as he had to her so many times over the last few days?

"Am I hurting you?" She pulled back to ask then took him deeper, swirling her tongue around his tip.

He shook his head, unable to speak. The powerful sensations within his groin stole his breath as she took him further against the back of her mouth.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"Fuck, no." His voice broke. "Don't you dare stop."

"Dare?" she goaded. "Are you daring me to stop wrapping my hot, wet mouth around your deliciously slippery cock? Because I will, if you dare me."

Carver groaned. "Oh God, baby. No. Please don't stop."

Inch by inch, she stole his self-control with each swirl of her tongue and with her lips. The power she acquired made her bolder. He was so beautiful, so masculine, so powerful, even with his feet apart and both hands tied to the shower. If she lived to be one hundred, she could never imaging making love with anyone else so unselfishly and with absolutely no inhibitions. Before, she'd always kept a little bit of herself back but with Carver it was different. Just as he gave to her, she wanted to give to him unconditional, no-holds barred, 100 per cent pure pleasure.

Carver was beyond thinking straight. She'd taken him right to the edge and there was no turning back. When his cock pulsed in her mouth, and his balls hardened like steel he let his orgasm take his until he had nothing left to give as she used a combination of her tongue and lips to clean him.

"Where do you plan to eat tonight?" Carver asked. They had picked up the tourist tram at Mission Bay.

"I haven't made up my mind. I'm not ready to eat yet," Gail replied, a wide grin on her face. "Must have been the little snack I had earlier."

Carver snuck an arm around her shoulder and hugged her close. Being a tourist with Gail was fun. Not the knuckle-whitening, adrenaline-inducing, living on the edge kind of fun he usually indulged in to get his kicks but good, old-fashioned "boy takes girl on a date" kind of fun. The tour guide pointed out AT&T Park, the home of the San Francisco Giants, as the replica tourist tram passed through SoMa into City Front.

"We can always turn back to the hotel and start all over again, baby," he whispered as he nibbled at her ear.

"Calm down, Tiger. I promised you a night on the town. I want to play tourist."

"OK, but just you wait till I get you home."

"I don't think so. You are going to be so tired after dancing the night away, you won't have the energy," Gail smiled, her fingers linked with his. She couldn't stop touching him. The connection they shared tonight was stronger than usual, much more than wild, passionate, thoroughly satisfying sex. Tonight, she felt deliriously happy, in her heart, in her soul, in her head. And it was all down to the wonderful, gorgeously sexy man at her side.

"I thought we'd go to the Palace of Fine Arts? I'd like to see the place where Sean Connery meets his daughter in "The Rock". Then I'd like to see the Presidio and the Golden Gate Bridge... and Fisherman's Wharf... and buy chocolate at Ghirardelli's."

"You want everything. But we have to eat sometime. Chocolate won't sustain me."

He looked so much like a little boy, Gail's heart melted. "OK. How about we pick up some street food at the next stop? If we're still hungry after the tour we can find somewhere to eat then before hitting a night-club."

"Sounds good," he relented. "So where are we going next."

"Chinatown."

"Perfect. We can pick up some duck wraps with hoi-sin sauce."

"It won't be the same as Hong Kong," Gail teased as the strains of "I Left My Heart in San Francisco" came through the overhead speakers of the tour bus.

"But at least we can say we tried some."

Wandering through the streets of Chinatown, with its brightly decorated restaurants generating fabulous aromas, and Chinese food shops piled high with vegetables and Chinese ingredients, Carver slipped his arm around her shoulders. Damn, if she didn't feel good tucked into his side. As though she was made to fit there. As they passed by a shop window Carver caught their reflection. They both looked happy and carefree, as though Friday was a world away. The truth brought him up with a sharp jolt.

As though reading his mind, Gail turned and placed a hand over his heart. "Here and now, remember."

She turned away to prevent him from seeing the emotion in her eyes. Best to change the subject. Friday morning was too difficult to contemplate. "I can't remember when I've had so much fun doing something as simple as wandering around being a tourist. You need to relax more." She glanced over at an open-fronted cafe displaying won tons, all manner of dim sum, and a collection of hot, aromatic noodle dishes. "Why don't we pick up some food and have a picnic in Portsmouth Square."

Carver smiled as he brought his mouth in contact with hers, and nibbled on her lower lip. "How about we forgo the picnic and eat here? The food looks good and it seems popular with the local community."

He was right. The food looked wonderful. "Alright. I guess you will need to build up your energy for dancing later."

Seated in side by side in a booth, a selection of different dishes in front of them, Carver piled his plate high. "Being a tourist has given me an appetite. You mentioned your twin brothers the other night. Do they live in the UK? Near your parents?"

General conversation was fine with Gail. She preferred not to get into anything too deep tonight. Deep made her vulnerable, which was why she'd been so insistent about playing the tourist for a few hours. "Yes. Daniel was posted on missions overseas with the Special Forces a lot but he's based in the UK now. He's been talking about leaving the forces. My other brother, Mark, is an aerospace engineer. He builds satellites."

"What do you think Daniel will do?"

"I don't really know. He's very forward thinking, and has lots of drive and energy. I've always been impressed with his ability to think out of the box and if he goes for something, he goes all out to achieve it. I guess that's why he has had such a successful career in the Forces. He doesn't expect the expected, and you can never be complacent around him."

"And Mark?"

"Mark's the more serious one. He's an absolute wizard with computers and programming. A lot of the projects he works on are for the government so he can't really talk about them but I know he's been developing software programmes for satellites."

"You sound very fond of them. Are you close?"

Gail grinned. "They're my big brothers. So yeah, I care about them. They've always looked out for me and pulled me out of numerous scrapes."

"Do you miss them? Hong Kong is a long way from the UK."

"I do. But we skype each other on a regular basis. They know I have an independent streak."

"Which brings us back to you. Do you like working for Zeitlinger's? Do you think you will stay in Human Resources? Or will you look elsewhere for your next career move?"

"Gail pulled back. "What is this? Twenty questions?"

"I'm interested," Carver defended. "I'm only trying to find out more about you."

Gail screwed the bridge of her nose up in contemplation. It was one of the questions that had been on her mind more since the whole situation with Graham had blown up. "I'm not sure. I've been in Human Resources since joining Zeitlinger's on the Graduate Programme. I love Hong Kong. I love the vibrancy of the place but the Zeitlinger office is quite small. Plus my flatmate, Lianne, is getting married soon and is moving out to be with André; her husband. Perhaps I'll start again, maybe in another new office. I enjoy interviewing people and building up the team from scratch."

Carver nodded. "Where would you go?"

"I'm not sure. I really like Zeitlinger's culture, and I've had lots of opportunities to advance my career. Maybe one of the new Central or Eastern European offices Zeitlinger's plans to open in the next twelve months. My ideal job would be to head up recruitment for the new Central and Eastern European region and then move back to Hong Kong to manage the HR strategy for the APAC region."

"Have you applied?"

"No, the job hasn't been posted yet."

"Perhaps you should start making enquiries."

"It's not been confirmed that the Eastern European offices will go ahead yet."

"All the more reason to get your name on the table."

Gail studied him, a playful smile on her face. "Are you giving me career advice, Mr. Heath? You do realise that's my area of expertise."

"I know but I find that people who are very good at helping others progress their careers aren't always good at progressing their own. It helps to know what you want and have a game plan to achieve it."

"So speaks the serial entrepreneur."

"Alright, I take your point. I'll mind my own business in future."

Gail shook her head. There was no future, not where they were concerned, but she recognised he meant well. "Actually, you're right. I've been so wrapped up in launching the new computer system, I've put my career plans on the back burner. I guess I've been using it as an excuse."

"And what about love and marriage?" Carver sat back to observe her reaction to his unsubtle interest in her personal life. "Surely a beautiful woman like you has had plenty of offers?"

Refusing to allow his question to fluster her, Gail screwed up her nose, causing Carver to laugh. "Less than you would believe. Besides, I'm happy on my own. I don't have to answer to any one else and I can do what I want, when I want." She picked up the bill quickly, unable to maintain the deception. "My treat. Come on. San Francisco awaits us and you're not getting out of dancing the night away."

Carver placed a hand on her thigh before she could get up from the booth. "I'm serious, Gail. I want to know more about you. Why won't you let me in? Don't you trust me?"

Gail stared back at him. It wasn't that she didn't trust him. It was herself she didn't trust. If she let him in, even just a little bit, her defences would crumble to nothing. And he was so sexy, so damned gorgeous, it would take a massive earthquake to shake her to her senses come Friday morning.

She composed herself enough to give him a lightweight answer. "You've had my body and now you want to steal my soul. You are one wicked, wicked man, Carver Heath. And a sex god, to boot." She removed his hand from her thigh and shrugged her shoulders. All of a sudden, she couldn't look at him. "Here and now, Carver," she reminded. "That's all that matters. Here and now."

Forewarned, Carver stopped probing. Someone had hurt her badly. Enough to steal her heart, roll it into a tight ball, and throw it away for the carrions to scavenge. He badly wanted to hurt that person back for Gail's sake. But what was the point, he couldn't offer her commitment either. Though if he could... "OK. Let's get back on the tourist trail."

Chapter 10

Gail studied her image in the bathroom mirror. Dancing until the early hours of the morning, followed by a bout of sheet-scorching sex, which had started the moment Carver pushed her through the door of their suite, had taken its toll. Dark circles ringed her eyes and her skin was pale. It wasn't just last night. It was the effort of keeping her emotions in check for just a little longer. She applied a little more make-up than usual to hide the worst of the damage.

Carver was still asleep. She'd left him in bed, laying on his front, with his hair tousled from sex, and his body spread-eagled across the mattress, a single white sheet barely covering his ass. He looked every inch a god in repose. She stood in the doorway of the bathroom and admired the lean muscles in his back, his arms and legs. In the early hours of the morning, she'd come close to letting down her defences, to letting him in. It scared her. Could you fall in love with someone in less than a week? She had to last out till Friday morning then, maybe, she'd be safe.

She waited until her emotions were under control before crossing to the bed to drop a kiss on his shoulder-blade. Immediately Carver stirred. She swept back the hair from his eyes and smiled at the familiar contours of his handsome face. A light covering of beard growth covered his jaw making him hotter that ever. "Good morning, Mr. Sleepy Head. It's unlike you not to be up and raring to go in the morning. I must have worn you out last night."

Carver prised open his eyes and gave her a lazy grin. "With the sex or the dancing?" He pulled her down onto the bed and enveloped her in strong arms so that she lay side by side with him, fully clothed.

"Too late, Tiger. I'm already late for work as it is."

He removed one arm and peeled back the sheet to reveal his morning wood. "Are you sure? I'm ready and willing."

"Your offer is tempting..." She followed the direction of his gaze and found her mouth watering at the sheer length and size of his cock. Hell, it _was_ tempting. Correction. _He_ was tempting. Before she met Carver she could have counted the number of times she'd had sex in the last twelve months on no hands and now she'd run out of fingers and toes and was heading for an entry in the Guinness Book of World Records.

"You weren't kidding when you said you had a high sex drive, were you? I'll have to give you an IOU. How about, because it's our last night on our own before you leave, I promise to let you have your wicked way with me as many times as you like, and however you want."

"Baby, that's one promise I'm definitely going to hold you to."

It was late when Gail returned to the suite that evening. Work had not gone well. In fact, she should have stayed at the office. The computer system was spitting out false records like it was coming out of fashion and, on top of that, Mr. Weng Lee had tried to call. That could only mean one thing. Graham had filed a grievance against her. She prayed Mr. Weng Lee knew her well enough to accept her innocence but Gail knew the procedure. She'd helped to write the damn rules, and as boss of the entire Hong Kong office, Mr. Weng Lee could not take sides.

Putting her worries to one side, the last thing she expected when she walked into the suite was to find the entire sitting room area filled with red and white roses, and Carver in the middle, dressed in a dark grey suit that moulded his superb body to perfection, a white shirt, and a tie that matched his eyes. Her heart flippy-flopped at the sight of him. He was up to something. And whatever it was made her want to throw herself into his arms and never let go. Instead she forced herself to act cool and waited for him to come to her.

"Looks like someone has been up to something. This must be my ultimate fantasy. A room full of flowers and a sexy man at my beck and call. Of course, it would be better if said sexy man was naked." She ran her fingers up the inside of his jacket to trace the smooth cotton of his shirt against his chest and kissed him on the mouth. It took every inch of resolve that she had to pull back from the heat of his lips and body but pull back she did. She'd kept a leash on her growing feelings for him during the past couple of days. She would be crazy to reveal them now when he was about to step out of her life. The roguish look on his face told her the flowers weren't her only surprise.

"So, what else have you got planned tonight?"

"I've brought you some presents. You'll find them in the bedroom."

Her smile dimmed. "I don't need presents, Carver. Just being with you over the past week has been enough. Last night especially. I haven't had so much fun in ages."

He snuck an indulgent kiss from her lips. "Humour me, baby. I derive pleasure from showering beautiful women with gifts."

Leading her by the hand into the bedroom, he pushed her over the threshold. "Be ready in twenty minutes or I will put you over my knee and spank you," he ordered and shut the door.

"So I'm not the first then?" she called out.

He stood on the other side of the door. She could hear the seductive tone in his voice. "The first to be spanked?"

The idea had her horny in an instant. "No, the first to be showered with presents. What if I prefer to take my punishment?" she called out as she turned around to survey the scene. The bigger-than-king-size bed was littered with boxes of all different sizes, some flat, some square, some round, none of which she had any idea what they contained. Her curiosity was peaked. She fingered a large candy-striped box with the silhouette of a naked man and woman in a compromising position printed on the lid. Several of the other boxes had the same motif - no doubt a shop catering for adult tastes.

"If that's what you want, nothing would give me more pleasure, baby. Just decide which presents you want to try out then join me in the lounge. I'll be waiting."

Gail stripped off her work clothes and stepped into the shower. She had half-expected Carver to take her out to a first-class restaurant for their last night alone but what he had planned was much more intimate. She preferred his choice of an evening in. Wrapping a towel around her body and hair, she sat down on the bed to unwrap her presents.

In the first box, the biggest, Gail discovered a gorgeous, strapless, lilac basque embellished with delicate touches of white lace and suspender clasps. Fastening with ties at the back, the bodice was designed in such a way to display rather than constrain her breasts, the overall look meant to define her silhouette. It was by far the sexiest and most beautiful piece of lingerie she had ever seen. She knew she would get as much pleasure wearing it for him as Carver would get seeing her in it before he stripped her naked. The next box, long and slim, contained a pair of virginal white. fishnet silk stockings. The next, a sexy, lilac garter-belt to match the basque. Gail marvelled at his choices, wondering how much help he'd received from the shop assistant.

The next box was a complete surprise but one that delighted her all the same. Nestled amongst layers of frothy lilac tissue paper, Gail found an antique silver comb decorated with an array of amethysts of all shapes and sizes. She crossed to the mirror, sweeping her long, wet hair up off her neck, and fastened the comb securely. Working her way through the rest of the boxes, she found a silver and amethyst pendant, and a matching bracelet and ankle chain, so delicate she feared to put them on. On the other side of the door, Carver grew impatient. She heard him pacing outside.

She unwrapped the last two presents, a miniscule lilac thong to match the basque, and a lilac silk wrap that would barely cover her ass.

"Do you have shares in this particular shop?"

"Aren't you dressed yet?" Carver called from the doorway, impatient to see the results of his shopping spree. "Our dinner has arrived."

Hearing the raw need in his voice, Gail chose to make a stance. Tonight she would dress for him, but on her own terms. As much as she loved the lilac basque, seeing the selection of gifts laid out on the bed made her feel bought, like a mistress dressed purely for her lord and master's erotic pleasure. Tonight, that was not how she wanted their relationship to be.

"Patience. Three minutes more and I'll be with you."

Returning each item to its box, she dressed quickly in her own lingerie and the lilac silk wrap-around dress she had worn at the Crakken Inn Estate. Carver loved to undress her slowly, like a cherished Christmas present and that would be his treat. She walked out of the bedroom with her head held high. The only concession was the silver and amethyst comb she wore in her hair.

The surprise on his face was quickly replaced by a frown. His lips drew taut and his eyes narrowed. "Don't you like the presents I bought you?"

"They're beautiful, Carver. But I don't need you to buy me expensive lingerie or jewellery. I'd rather you sent them back."

"And I'd rather you tried them on. I thought we'd both get pleasure from them." Fighting to conceal his irritation, he placed a finger under her chin and glared into her eyes. He'd taken a long time and a lot of thought to pick out each item, taking great care to match the exact colour of her eyes. He _wanted_ to see her in them. It was the only thought that kept him from hoping on a plane and heading back to Hong Kong after the frustrating and fruitless afternoon he'd spent with his bitch of an ex-wife.

Gail met his eyes, hoping that he would accept her sincerity. "I'm sure you did and they are truly beautiful. I can see you took a lot of care and attention to detail. But I'm not your mistress, Carver, and I'm not a prostitute. I'm with you because I want to be. Nothing more, nothing less."

The mystery of feminine logic had him stumped. Was she was right? It was true his choices had been made in anticipation of a long night of sexual pleasure. His idea being to remove them, one piece at a time, while seducing the ass off her. He broke into a rueful grin. "I didn't think anything more than buying beautiful things for a very beautiful woman. I'd rather you kept them."

Relieved, Gail smiled and placed her hands around his neck, luxuriating in the feel of his warm body tucked tight against hers. The subtle musky tones of his aftershave wrapped around her like a hug. Whenever she smelt that particular scent in future she knew it would bring her back to this bitter-sweet moment. "Would you permit me to accept one gift? This beautiful comb." She touched her hand to her hair. "I love it, Carver, thank you."

Carver groaned in disbelief. "You are the most enticing yet frustrating woman I have ever met. Right now I want to bend you over my knee and spank you for disobeying me." He groaned louder as her stomach connected with his flagging erection and her nipples dug into his shirt. There was so much more he wanted to say. Along the lines of, "I want to wake up with you in my arms for the rest of my life. I want to bury myself deep into your hot, tight core and make beautiful babies with you."

Carver pulled himself up with a jolt. Where the fuck did that come from? OK, so the weekend affair had stretched into a week. His choice, his decision, but that's all he had signed up for, nothing more, even if he had intended to ask her for an extension to their arrangement tonight. Now he wasn't so sure.

With her face buried into his neck, Gail mistook the stiffening of his body for desire. "If you plan to make love to me all night long, and I sincerely hope you do, I'll need feeding." She stepped out of his arms to eye the tempting array of cold dishes laid out on the table in front of her. A magnum of champagne sat chilling in the ice bucket. "Were you planning on getting me drunk and having your wicked way with me tonight? Don't forget, I promised to be your sex-slave for the entire evening."

Carver smiled as he eased the cork from the bottle, poured out two glasses and handed her one. "I haven't forgotten. This is to say thank you for the most pleasurable week of my life."

True to her obstinate nature, instead of sitting down at the table as he wanted her to, Gail placed her glass on the table and twisted the chair around to push him down onto it. Once seated, she straddled his lap, giving him a glimpse of stockings tops against the creamy flesh of her upper thighs. Not once did she take her eyes from his face as she fed him from a dish of fat juicy olives, pushing the swollen, aromatic fruit between his full lips as her breasts jiggled just below his jaw line and his hands cupped her buttocks.

Despite his earlier scare, Carver was undone the moment her delicate fingers touched his mouth. How could the act of being fed from her hand be so damned erotic? It had to be a crime. Accepting a plump black olive from her fingers, he sucked on her finger, drawing the pungent oil and the taste of her skin onto his tongue, while his hands gripped her suspender-clad ass. Staring into her eyes, he saw the heat of her desire flare and felt her body melt into his.

"We should take your clothes off. This is going to get messy," he suggested, matching the fire reflected in her eyes.

"What about yours?" she asked as he reached for the silken tie at her waist and eased it apart to warm his hands against her skin. He had a roguish look in his eyes which she found devastating, both on her will power and her libido. Without conscious thought, her fingers slid beneath the lapels of his suit jacket to stroke his chest. She was aware of a change in his breathing, of the rise and fall against her fingertips, of the steady beat of his heart and the heat from his chest, as surely as her breathing had deepened, her nipples had hardened and her heart beat sped up. Every cell in her body begged him to make love with her.

Carver didn't need a map. Her body told him everything he needed to know. Taking his time to thoroughly kiss each inch of flesh as he exposed it, he removed her bra, her stockings and suspenders, leaving only her thong. The control and trust she freely gave encouraged him to push her boundaries. Grabbing a couple of ice cubes from the ice bucket he drew a series of slow torturous paths from the back of her heated neck to her buttocks, taking a leisurely stroll across her shoulder blades and breasts along the way. He pressed the tiny blocks of ice to her skin long enough for goose bumps to break out and for rivulets of melted water to glisten across her soft contours. He held her firm, one hand pressing into the small of her back as he circled the frozen blocks of water above the crease of her buttocks. When she tried to wriggle against his cock, he slipped her thong aside, spread her buttocks wider and made sure the icy water dripped past her ass-hole into her sex.

"I really wanted to see you to wear the things I bought you," he growled in her ear.

"I know," she sighed. "I'll wear them for you later. Perhaps Thursday, our last night together."

"If you do that, I won't be able to keep my hands off you. Our dinner with John will be the quickest on record so that I can rush you back here and pleasure your sweet body all night long."

"I'm more interested in the here and now," she moaned as he brushed an ice cube lightly over each nipple. No longer content to be submissive, Gail reached up and pulled him by his suit lapels to thrust her tongue into his mouth. The need she had been suppressing all day threatened to erupt. "Now it's my turn."

Without moving from his lap, she removed his jacket and shirt but not his tie. She held his gaze and the tie as she leant forward to retrieve some ice cubes from the ice bucket. Her nipples brushed against his chest and her sex nudged against the tip of his erection as she massaged an ice cube around each of his nipples, along his shoulder blades to his neck and then against his mouth. She licked each drop of moisture from his body, following the trail of ice water. When she reached his frozen lips, she breathed warmth back into them with her own heat.

Discarding the fast-melting ice, she raised her ass to encourage Carver to latch his mouth onto her breasts, while she rubbed her palm across the ridges of his cock through his trousers. She worked her palm deeper, gaining pleasure from seeing him sweat and the feel of his beautiful erection beneath her fingertips. As he nipped and suckled on her skin, she knew, without looking, that he had branded her with love bites, on her breasts, her chest and upper arms. She'd worry about them later. Right now, she wanted him inside of her - no lingering foreplay, no more slow kisses, just instant gratification. Her fingers found the buttons and zip of his trousers to release him.

The moment her hands encircled his cock Carver almost came. She'd whipped up an urgent desire that his body could barely contain. After the day he'd had with Megan, he was beyond thinking straight and his cock had a will of its own. He pulled her to her feet by the wrists, stripped off the remainder of his clothes, and strode across the room towards the full-length glass window with Gail in tow, snagging the bucket of melting ice as an afterthought.

"Spread your legs," he growled as he pressed her against the sheet of glass face first and removed her thong from behind.

The neon lights of the Bay area glowed and twinkled beneath them as he knelt down to run his tongue over her buttocks and into her crack, just as he'd wanted to the first time her saw her. Picking up an ice cube, he used the frozen block and the point of his tongue alternately against her sex and asshole to make her come, then stood up to enter her with one powerful thrust, causing her breasts to flatten against the glass leaving sweaty round imprints.

"From now on, you're not to come until I tell you. Do you understand."

Gail whimpered. She'd just experienced one blistering orgasm and desperately craved another one.

"Do you understand? Not unless I give you permission."

"OK."

"Good girl."

Lights flickered on and off in the surrounding buildings but he was oblivious to everything except his cock in her tight body and the unique tangy taste of her skin as he licked her earlobes and neck. With one hand on her wrists, he pressed them against the glass high above her head, and fucked her hard, grunting as his balls slapped against the back of her thighs.

Sweat made his body slick against hers, made the heat of physical contact burn. To cool them both down, he plunged his free hand in the ice bucket, retrieving slithers of ice to stimulate her back and shoulder blades. The icy water soon turned tepid as it dripped down her spine onto the tight curls around his cock to mix with her cream as he pounded inside of her. The sensation was too much. Any pretence of control was shot as she cried out his name.

"Do you want to come, baby?" he panted hard against her ear. He pushed deeper. God. She was. So fucking. Sexy.

"Yes, Carver. Please make me come."

"Not yet, baby. Hold it a little longer." To heighten her tension, he dipped his hand into the ice bucket and pinched her nipples and then her clit with cold, wet fingers. He felt her ripple around his cock in response. "OK, now you can come."

Satisfied that he possessed her completely, he pulled her tight onto his cock to pursue his own climax. His hot seed spurted high into her womb as he threw back his head and bared his teeth at the ceiling. Her muscles milked every last drop of life force until he had nothing left to give.

In the raw intensity of their mutual climax, Gail almost forgot to breathe. Emotion washed over her, claimed her and filled her heart. Bathed in sweat, the only thing that held her up was Carver's weight pressing her breasts, stomach and mound into the window for the world to see. And she didn't care. His lovemaking had taken her to a different plateau of freedom and consciousness yet again. Then Carver froze.

"Impressive. It's nice to see you still work out when you have the chance, Carver. Nice buns."

The familiar voice made Gail's stomach roll. Megan? Megan was in their suite?. She tried to make her body as small as possible, using Carver as a shield. To be caught having sex by someone was one thing. To be caught having exhibitionist sex against the hotel window by his ex-wife was too shameful for words.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Pulling out fast, Gail would have slumped to the floor had he not thought to catch her by the waist. "Get out. NOW!"

A flustered-looking hotel assistant, his face stained red with embarrassment, stumbled backwards towards the exit. The immaculately- dressed ex-Mrs. Heath remained immobile in the centre of the room. The expression on her face was pure venom as her eyes raked first over Carver's naked ass then, as he turned, his glistening cock, still fully erect against his stomach. For a brief moment, shock and pain registered in her eyes as she noted the lack of a condom before she composed herself again.

The hotel assistant stuttered an apology from the doorway. "I'm sorry, Mr. Heath. I did try to call but your phone was off the hook. Your assistant said she had something urgent for you to sign. I wouldn't have intruded on you other wise." He didn't need to see the incandescent fury in Carver's eyes to turn tail and run to the safety of the executive lift. Megan, on the other hand, had no intention of leaving. She took a seat in the centre of the sofa facing them and laid a thin folder across her lap.

"That was quite a performance you put on there." Flicking a bored-senseless glance in Gail's direction, Megan pouted and gestured to the side of her mouth with a long elegant finger. "I think you have something on your face, Ms. Harrison." Her mouth widened into something resembling a caricature of a smile as Gail blushed harder. "If you've finished fucking my husband, would you mind leaving us alone for an hour or so? Carver and I have some urgent business left over from this afternoon that we need to discuss."

Unabashed by his nakedness, or his semi-erect cock, Carver pushed Gail towards the bedroom. "Get dressed. I'll deal with this."

Turning the shower hot water taps to full on didn't help. Neither did throwing herself under the shower nor turning on the television in the bedroom to drown out the angry voices coming from the lounge. Sickened to her stomach, Gail pulled on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a light jacket, and headed for the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Carver demanded. Though dishevelled, he was at least partially dressed. He was also very angry. Angrier than she had ever seen him before.

"Out," she tossed back at him over her shoulder as she walked towards the door. "Two's company, three's a crowd. You could have thrown her out, Carver. But you didn't." She carried on walking without a backward glance.

Carver followed her into the corridor as the lift arrived. "Don't be ridiculous. You can't go now."

"Can't I?" She glared at him. "Try stopping me." She stepped into the lift. "Go back to your wife, Carver. I'll drop by to pick up my things later."

The last Carver saw, as he watched the lift doors close, was the raw hurt in her eyes. Fuck! Why was Megan so hell bent on destroying everything that meant something in his life? With fury burning a hole in his gut, he retraced his steps determined to put a stop to Megan's games once and for all.

"What the fuck are you playing at, Megan?" he shouted. "You had no right to meddle with my private life or my business affairs. I want you out of here now."

If Carver had been a canary, Megan would be the proverbial cat as she smiled back. "Playing? Oh, I'm not playing, Carver. I might not have the right to meddle with your private life but I think you will find that I have every right regarding your business affairs. Just take another look at our pre-nup, dear husband."

"For fuck sake, Megan. We've been divorced for three years now. Why now?"

"Don't you think you should take another look at the detail before you decide to contact John again about your joint venture with him? I'm going to take half of everything you acquired or built up during our marriage. And that includes Synchrocity." She waited to allow her words to take effect.

Carver glanced at the paperwork she'd thrown on the table, between the barely touched remains of the intimate meal he had planned to share with Gail. "Are you out of your mind? I'm not handing over half of Synchrocity to you."

"Oh, it's not half I want, Carver," Megan laughed. "I want all of it. In exchange for leaving the other companies you built up during our marriage alone."

"We divorced three years ago. Why now and why Synchrocity? You know what that company means to me."

"That's exactly why. I want Synchrocity for every single night during out marriage that you left me on my own. For the weekends you worked instead of being with me. For the children we never conceived because you were too busy working, or screwing other women. Like the little whore you're shacked up with now. God, you didn't even use a condom. Tell me, Carver, is she a good fuck?"

"Better than you." Carver shot back, regretting it instantly. Before he could take it back, his phone rang. Thinking it was Gail, he answered it without checking the caller ID.

"Gail? ...Sorry, Jo. What's up? ...Tom? ...How badly?" He slumped onto the sofa, one hand massaging his forehead to ease the raging headache that had started the moment Megan made her presence known. "OK, I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Don't worry, he'll be alright."

When he looked up, the high colour had leeched from his face. "Get out, Megan. You've done your worst."

"Oh dear. Has your little playmate ditched you? So sorry, but I'm not leaving until you've signed the paperwork."

"Tom's been hurt in a car accident. I need to get to the hospital quick."

The dead expression in his eyes must have convinced Megan of the seriousness of the situation. Immediately she softened. "Do you want me to come with you? I'll drive, if you like."

Surprised at her offer, Carver shook his head. He grabbed his jacket and made for the door. "No. You've caused enough trouble for one night. I need to be with Jo. I don't want to be distracted by you or Synchrocity. I'll call you tomorrow, after I've consulted with my lawyers. Let yourself out, and if you bump into Gail on the way please tell her what's happened. Tell her I'll see her at Marin County Hospital."

Chapter 11

The first thing Gail noticed when she let herself back into the suite was that someone had cleared the remains of their dinner from the table. She experienced a strong pang of regret at how the evening had turned out. Walking around the block to the nearest well-known coffee bar to nurse a half-fat latte for over an hour, she'd calmed down enough to realise that she'd over-reacted, again. It wasn't Carver's fault his ex-wife had dropped in on them uninvited at an extremely indelicate moment. Though he could have handled the situation with more tact. The unfortunate hotel assistant came to mind. She wondered whether he still had a job.

The second thing she noticed was her bags stacked up by the door. Gail frowned as Megan emerged from the bedroom, her hair and body wet, and barely wrapped in a towel.

"Yes Carver, I make sure she gets the message," Megan shouted over her shoulder in the direction of the shower room where the water was on at full pelt. She turned back to face Gail. "I've taken the liberty of packing your bags. They're over there, by the door."

Gail froze. "I beg your pardon?"

Without a hint of modesty, Megan let the towel drop to the floor and walked back into the bedroom to slip on the lilac wrap Carver had bought for Gail. She had a toned, lightly-tanned body, small breasts and ass in proportion with her height. Gail noted her sex was fuzz-free, just as Carver preferred. Rooted to the spot, she swallowed hard, trying to make sense of what was happening.

Megan's voice brought her back from her muddled thoughts. "Didn't he tell you? Before he fucked your brains out against the window? Tut-tut, naughty Carver. We've decided to give our marriage another go. Haven't we, darling?"

Gail presumed his answer was lost in the noise of the shower jets because she couldn't hear his response from where she stood in the lounge. Megan, in the bedroom, apparently did though. She nodded in the direction of the shower room then turned back to Gail. "I did warn you, Ms. Harrison, that Carver goes through women like loose change. Well, you've had your fun and now it's over. I guess I should be grateful to you for bringing us back together again. Now if you'll excuse me, Carver and I have some catching up to do. You know your way out."

Walking past the night receptionist for the fourth time that night, Gail managed to keep her head and chin high. In truth, she was in deep shock as she stepped into the street and hailed a taxi to take her to the office. With her head in a mindless fog, it was the only place she could think to go. She knew she ought to check into another hotel but she couldn't face it. At least this way she could oversee the latest batch of tests on the new system while she tried to make sense of what had just happened.

To be thrown out of Carver's executive suite was one thing. To be replaced by his ex-wife was another. But to be told their relationship was history second-hand was the worst. He hadn't even had the decency to tell her to her face. And fucking her up against the hotel window for everyone and his ex-wife to see was the last straw. Anger built inside her until she was angrier than she had ever been in her life. Fuck the famous Carver Heath. He could burn in hell for all she cared. She'd even supply the petrol and matches, and send out invitations for the burn party.

It took four hours of drinking copious cups of coffee and staring at computer analyses for her anger to finally dissipate. What was left was worse - a huge, beat-up, pulpy mess in her rib cage that hurt like hell. Irritated with the constant buzzing of her phone, she switched the damn thing off. She had to do something to block Carver from her thoughts. She could still smell his masculine scent and feel his touch on her skin. Why was he calling? To rub salt into the wound? In the darkest, desperate hours before daybreak, Gail found the solution to one of her problems. She switched her phone back on.

"Graham?"

"Gail?"

"Listen. I know I shouldn't be talking to you right now since you've registered a grievance against me. But I need your advice. I think I know what the problem is with the computer system. Would you mind if I ran it past you?"

"You're phoning because you need my help?"

Gail frowned. Was he going to be awkward because it was the last thing she needed right now? "Yes, Graham. You designed the damn system. You're the only other person who knows how the hell it works."

Her frustration was met with silence. "Are you going to help me or not? I think I know what's wrong. I just need your advice."

Hearing the desperation in her voice, Graham responded. "OK. What do you want me to do?"

"I'm going to send you a sample file of ten records I've modified via the server. Do you think you could run them your side? To see if they work?"

"Sure, I can do that."

Gail softened her tone. If he could help her, she might not have to postpone her flight to New York or delay her trip to the UK to meet up with her family. At least something might go right for her. "Thanks Graham. I really appreciate it. Can you give me a call when you've completed the test batch?"

"No need. I'm running it now... It seems to be working... No, hang on. I think I can see what the problem is. Some of the personnel numbers are missing two digits. Do you want me to correct them and run the batch again?"

"Would you? I suspected that was the problem. I think some of the personnel records for the West Coast of America are missing the office code. I guess they were created before the last system upgrade."

"You're right. I've added the code for San Francisco to the records that fell over and it seems to be working now. I'll build that into the system prompts. By the time you get to New York you shouldn't experience any more problems."

"Thanks Graham. You're a star."

Graham fell quiet again.

Gail broke the silence. "Graham... I'm truly sorry for what happened. I should have realised you had feelings for me. If I had, I would have said something earlier." She heard him start to say something but cut him off before she gave him false hope. "I haven't changed my mind. But I do understand what you are going through at the moment. And I wouldn't wish it on anyone." She heard him exhale, as though trying to get his emotions under control.

"That's OK, Gail. I talked to Lianne," he responded softly. "I still love you. I can't switch those feelings off overnight. But I understand that you don't share the same feelings. And, by the way, I didn't file a grievance. I thought about it but in the end I decided that what happened was between us and no-one else's business. I am applying for a transfer though. So... Can we still be friends?"

The sound of voices in the corridor brought the conversation to a halt. The office cleaners on the early shift had arrived. Gail smiled despite her heartache. "Yes. I'd like us to be friends, Graham. Thanks for your help. Listen, I've got to go now. I'll batch the rest of the records in and let you know how I get on. If everything goes well, I'll fly on to New York on Saturday morning as originally planned and should be back in Hong Kong around the end of next month. Let me know if you need any help with your transfer request."

Carver paced the hospital corridor trying to ignore the antiseptic stench that pervaded everything. He'd been here so long - the whole night and the following morning - the smell seemed to cling to his clothes. Finally, around two p.m., the surgeon brought news on Tom's status. He was over the worst but still in intensive care. Surprisingly Jo was calm, after her initial panic, which made his decision to stay with her and the two boys until Tom was off the critical list easier to bear. He hated to see her so broken and would have swopped places with Tom in a heart beat if it could have eased her pain.

When he finally returned to his suite at the Rosewood Heights Hotel for a shower and a change of clothes before meeting John and Helen for dinner, Tom was stable and facing a full recovery. After the worst twenty or so hours of his life, Carver looked forward to seeing Gail again. The fact that she hadn't returned any of his calls since the previous night gave him reason for concern but he knew, once he saw her and explained Megan's behaviour, she would understand.

The last thing he expected was to find the suite cleared of her personal belongings including the presents she had thrown back in his face. He phoned down to reception.

"Ms. Harrison left late last night? Do you know where she went?" He had one hour, at best, to find her before his dinner meeting with John and Helen. He called her mobile phone again without success. The damned thing was switched to record messages.

"Gail, baby. Please call me as soon as you get this message. We need to talk. I miss you."

He called Jo to catch up on Tom and gave it another thirty minutes before he tried Gail's number again. This time his voice was terse. "Sweetheart. Please. Call me. We need to talk."

By the time he pulled up outside the houseboat restaurant in Sausalito, Carver was wound tighter than a drum. Where the hell was she? And why was she ignoring his calls?

"I'm sorry Gail couldn't make it tonight. Helen and I were looking forward to seeing her again."

"I'm sorry too, John. She really enjoyed the tour of your estate last Sunday." Carver struggled to shelve his emotional turmoil and concentrate on finalising the deal. The fact that Gail had removed her things from the suite meant only one thing. She'd taken Megan's comments to heart and walked out. He had to find her before he flew back to Hong Kong first thing Friday morning. He wouldn't get a second chance.

Aware that Helen was watching him, he pulled himself together. His number one priority was to find out how much John knew of Megan's plans. "There's been an unexpected development," he started. "Megan has made a counter claim on Synchrocity. Unless this is something you've instigated behind my back, it would seem she's trying to screw the both of us."

To Carver's surprise, it was Helen who spoke out while John remained quiet. "Can she do that? What's the basis of her claim?"

Despite Helen's obvious shock, Carver remained cautious. He still hadn't ruled out John's involvement. "Our pre-nup agreement," he explained. "She claims she's entitled to fifty per cent of every company I bought or built up while we were married."

At last John looked up, his face troubled. "I know what you're thinking but I'm completely in the dark about this. Seems she's screwed me over too. But didn't you say you created Synchrocity while you were at university? Surely, you weren't married to Megan at that time, were you?"

"That's right. We weren't married then."

"Then how she can lay a claim on Synchrocity?"

"She's prepared to forgo her rights to money or a fifty per cent stake in the all other companies I built up while we were married in exchange for a majority shareholding in Synchrocity. My lawyers are looking into her claim right now to see if it holds any weight. What I don't understand is why she's claiming three years after our divorce."

John lapsed back into thought while Helen's face showed genuine concern. "Is that why Gail's not here tonight? You've had an argument about Megan?"

Wary of discussing his relationship with Gail, Carver went defensive. "What makes you say that? Have you spoken to her?"

Helen placed a gentle hand over his and smiled. "No. I haven't spoken to her since last Sunday. But I do know she cares for you deeply. And I can see from your face that you care for her too. Whatever's happened, don't let Megan spoil what you have between you."

Carver nodded. Helen was right. He hated the thought that Gail might be hurting and alone somewhere in the city, and that Megan was the cause.

John spoke up. "What if I buy into Synchrocity?" He raised his hand before Carver could protest. "Hold on. I know you think I'm behind this little stunt of Megan's but you should be aware that, although my original intention was to buy up the entire company and amalgamate it into my business portfolio, I fully believe the best option is to create a joint-venture. Working together, our combined strengths are greater than if they remain separate, and I can see that you genuinely care about Synchrocity and the people that work for it. I like your business ethics and your idea of innovation, Carver. Damn it, I like you. And I agree with Helen. You and Gail have something special. You'd be a fool to let her slip away."

"Thanks for the great endorsement for my business and love life, John, but what about Megan? Wasn't she the one who suggested the take over to you in the first place? If she had the majority share of Synchrocity, she could either sell it to you for a huge profit or use it against you. What's her real motive? A seat on your board?"

John considered the idea for couple of seconds. "Two things come to mind. One - you might not be far off, Carver. Jon has just joined the company, and it's fairly obvious that I'm lining him up to be my successor in a few years time. Perhaps Megan thinks she can have a piece of both pies now. The second - rumours within the investment community are that you are about to be recognised by Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth the Second, for your business achievements and charity work. Perhaps Megan thinks she can take away some of the kudos from you."

Carver scoffed. "That's ridiculous. I haven't heard anything about that. But, whatever her reason, I'm going to fight her all the way. I'll give her all the money she wants but she's not going to get her hands on Synchrocity."

John nodded. "I'm right behind you, Carver. I need to do some digging of my own. Your ex-wife is an ambitious little thing. I suspect she has some long term strategy in play."

"Thanks John, though I doubt Megan will reveal her cards to anyone. And right now, I have other things to worry about."

Chapter 12

It stood to reason Gail's run of bad luck had to hit rock bottom, especially after spending a full day and night regretting she'd ever met the infamous Carver Heath. Sleep in a different, much smaller hotel room hadn't come easy and when it finally did, it was filled with dreams of her least favourite sex god. The worst of it was, somewhere between leaving the office and checking into a new hotel Thursday night, she had lost her mobile phone - the same phone Carver had programmed with his contact details. And now he was gone \- on the morning flight back to Hong Kong.

Back at work, Gail signed the paper work for a temporary phone and called the one person she knew would be sympathetic.

"Hi Lianne, how are you? Are you seeing André tonight?" She found an empty corner office and snuck in.

"No, he had to fly back to France. His father isn't too well again. Where are you phoning from?"

"I'm phoning from work. I lost my phone and had to sign for a new one. I'm sorry to hear about André's father. So, are you going out with the gang tonight?"

"Actually, I'm having a quite night in. Things aren't the same without you and André around."

"Thanks for speaking to Graham, by the way."

"No problem. How did you know?"

"I spoke to him yesterday. He helped me with one of the computer glitches."

"Did you know he's requested a meeting with the Global HR Director? I'm guessing it's to discuss his transfer request."

Gail's heart lurched. The idea that Graham was experiencing the same raw pain she felt for Carver made her go hot and cold. "He told me he was going ahead with a transfer. I said I'd help him if he needed anything."

Lianne picked up on her melancholia. "Gail? Are you OK? You sound a bit down."

Such a simple question but it opened the floodgates for a tear-fest. She hadn't meant to lose it so easily but Lianne's sympathy breached the dam.

Immediately Lianne tried to placate her. "Hey Gail, if you're worried about Graham, you have nothing to be ashamed of. You didn't lead him on. I'll bear witness to that."

"That's kind of you, Lianne, but there's no need." With or without Lianne's kind words, she was a mess. And that bastard, Carver Heath was the cause.

On the other end of the line, Lianne began to worry. It wasn't like Gail to be tearful, ever, not even when the stray cat they had "adopted" died. "What's the matter, Gail?"

"I met someone."

"You did?" He voice went up an octave in excitement and down again with concern. "When? Where?"

"On the plane from Hong Kong to San Francisco. I spent last weekend with him in the Napa Valley. And I've been staying with him in his executive suite the whole of this week." _...And now he's gone._

"His executive suite? Why didn't you tell me about him before? And why are you crying?"

"I'm crying because his wife turned up."

"His wife? Oh Gail, he's married?" Nothing, not even long distance, could disguise the censure in Lianne's voice.

"Was married. They divorced three years ago."

"Then I don't understand. If she's his ex-wife, and they're divorced, what's the problem?"

"The problem is she wanted him back."

"Did he want her?"

"He said he didn't but it seems he did after all." Suddenly it all spilled out, like a waterfall after a heavy downpour of rain. "Carver was emphatic he didn't want to rekindle a relationship with her. But she walked in on us while we were... well, you know... then she asked me to leave because they had something important to talk about. When I returned to the suite they were both in the shower, my bags were packed, and Carver and his ex-wife were an item again.

"Hold on. Are you saying she caught you having sex with her husband?"

Gail grimaced. Trust Lianne to go straight for the jugular. "Ex-husband. Yes." Her cheeks flamed as she remembered the circumstances.

"And she asked you to leave... and you did?"

"Yes."

"What did he say?"

"He told me to get dressed, so I did. Then I walked out."

"You walked out? And when you came back they were in the shower together, naked?"

"Yes. Honestly Lianne, what else do you do in a shower? Apart from..." Gail blushed. "Anyway, Megan was naked. She came from the shower as I entered the lounge."

"The bastard. What did he say when you confronted them?"

"I didn't see him. He didn't have the balls to come out to face me." Even to Gail's own ears, it sounded like an Australian soap opera. "Megan said they'd decided to give their marriage another go and Carver wanted me gone. My bags were packed by the door. What else could I do?"

"The miserable sonofabitch. I'm sorry, Gail, but you're better off without him."

"I guess. I just thought... I really thought he liked me. And if it's her he wants, why did he leave messages on my phone asking me to call him?"

"This may sound like a stupid question but why didn't you go and confront him in the shower?"

It wasn't stupid. Why hadn't she? At least she could have had closure, belittled at his manhood, or his ego or something. "I didn't think. The shower was on, she was naked and my bags were packed..." Gail faltered. Something the concierge had said as she crossed the hotel lobby on her return to the suite that night stuck in her head. The man had asked her if Mr. Heath would be returning. At the time she'd presumed he was talking about another business trip Carver had planned to San Francisco. And then there was the timing of his calls to her mobile. Why would Carver call her from the shower? Something didn't add up. "I..."

"I think you should call him and demand for an explanation?"

"What good would that do? Besides, I can't." she wailed. "I lost my phone. I don't know how to contact him."

Chapter 13

If there was one redeeming factor from her brief affair with an ex-sex god, aka Carver Heath, Gail discovered that her fear of flying had been cured. The blind terror she usually experienced did not materialise during the take off from San Francisco or the subsequent landing in New York a few hours later. Her mind was too busy replaying the sequence of events from the past few days and trying to ignore the inflight radio which seemed to play "I left my Heart in San Francisco" on an incessant loop. By late afternoon, she was grateful to check into the boutique hotel in SoHo. In the heart of a vibrant bohemian community, it was close enough to Zeitlinger's office in Tribeca for Gail to walk to and from work.

She dumped her bags in her room and headed out to familiarise herself with the area. It was late afternoon, and the streets were buzzing with tourists and locals alike. She followed her stomach to a Pan-Asian restaurant with a modern yet casual ambience and ordered beef rendang. Flavoured with chilli, lemon grass, kaffir lime leaves, holy basil and other spices from the region, it made her feel homesick for Hong Kong and reminded her that, on the other side of the world, Carver was probably just about to have Sunday lunch. Or perhaps he was reviewing a business file. Maybe even tying up the loose ends of the joint venture with John. Annoyed with herself for thinking about him again, Gail pulled out her tourist map and planned the rest of her solitary weekend.

Carver stared out of the windows of the ground floor gym in his private villa overlooking Repulse Bay and frowned. The view normally energised him but today, slick with sweat from a gruelling two hour run followed by an hour long workout, the tension that had weighed him down since his return from San Francisco edged towards bitter frustration. Why hadn't Gail called back? Had Megan managed to corrupt every aspect of his life?

For the moment, it seemed like she had. Even his lawyers were advising him to pay her off but his pride refused to let him. Megan could have filed a claim three years ago at the time of their divorce. Why had she waited till now? What was her plan? At least Jo and the boys were OK. He'd received a text message from Jo to say that Tom had been released from hospital.

He stripped off his shorts and t-shirt and strode naked towards the adjacent shower room. Turning the water jets on full blast, he stepped underneath and proceeded to soap himself down, starting with his sweat-soaked hair and working down to his abdomen. His thoughts went to Gail and the showers they had shared. Pride told him there were plenty more beautiful, vivacious, fun-loving women out there. All he had to do was curl a finger and they would be throwing their panties at his door. But Gail was unique. It was her he wanted. No-one else. His insides ached with a permanent dull, nagging pain.

He took his cock in hand to soap off the sweat and imagined it was her fingers gliding up and down his shaft and her lips nibbling across his chest. Caught up in the fantasy, her firm, kiss-swollen mouth encircled him, sucking and tugging on his erection, making his breathing shallow and his skin tight until her velvety centre took over to milk him. Placing one hand on the tiles in front of him, he ground his teeth, tightened his grip, and imagined shooting his hot seed deep into Gail instead of against the shower wall.

In the midst of Gail's self-induced pity-party there was one silver lining. The computer glitches from San Francisco were no longer an issue. Her visit to the New York office went smoother than expected. In between overseeing the launch and training the HR team on the new computer system, she had plenty of time to review the rights and wrongs of her torrid yet brief relationship with Carver Heath. And when she wasn't busy with work - seventy per cent of her time - or rueing the fact that she had ever met the ex-sex god, aka Carver Heath - almost all the time, she spent what was left considering her future.

According to Lianne, Graham had been offered a transfer to the Sydney office. The post was perfect for him - Deputy Head of the Regional IT department. At least his misplaced infatuation and subsequent marriage proposal hadn't blighted his career prospects. Even Lianne was deliriously happy. André had returned to Hong Kong and the date of their wedding approached fast. Gail should have been relieved. Instead she was stuck in a rut of frustration and self-loathing. And it just wasn't in her nature. Time to take back the control.

The fatherly image of her boss, Mr. Weng Lee, came through loud and clear on the video-conference link.

"I've thought it though," she confirmed. "I can manage the computer roll-out remotely. Now that we've tested the system in the two main US offices and everything has gone fine I can write up the manual and carry out online training for the HR teams in the other offices while I work with the Central European Managing Partner to review the CVs and candidates for the new CEE offices."

"Are you sure you can manage both?"

"Yes. I've already made a start in writing up the manual and if we cascade the online training throughout the time zones, everyone should be up to speed within three weeks."

"Sounds like you really have thought it through."

"I have and I'm ready for a new challenge. I need a new challenge."

If Mr. Weng Lee caught the desperation creeping into her tone, he didn't say anything. "I agree, Gail. It's about time you made a change. What you're proposing is a perfect opportunity for you. I'm pleased you've decided to seize the initiative."

"You think I should go ahead then?"

"Of course. I'm speaking to Sandrine Getz, the Global HR Director about Graham's transfer later. I'll put your proposal to her at the same time. Two months, you say. Are you sure that will be enough time?"

"Initially, yes. Perhaps I could go back for a week or so when the offices are up and running to make sure everything is functioning properly. Ultimately I'd like to apply for a senior HR role in the APAC region but I'd like to gain more hands-on experience in Europe first before I take on a more strategic post."

"I agree. It's a sensible career move. You've done an excellent job here and this proposed assignment is a perfect match for your skills. I'll let you know the outcome of my discussion with Sandrine later".

Carver was late, much later than he planned, but, with luck, not too late. The bar was wall-to-wall with professional types, fuelled by loud marrow-thumping music and liberal amounts of alcohol. He spotted her immediately. Stocking-clad legs teamed with a classically-styled shirt and pencil-slim skirt that accentuated the curves of her ass to perfection, she stood out in the crowd, as she always would for him. A swathe of silky, dark hair flowed across her back like waterfall of liquid chocolate.

The full-on surge of physical attraction he experienced on seeing her surprised him. Automatically his cock reacted to her presence the same time that several organs fought for space in his rib-cage. Schooling his body to behave, he watched her lean close to one of her colleagues \- a swarthy-looking man in his early thirties. The guy had "sexual predator" and "married" written across his forehead. When he placed an arm behind Gail's back, a green mist closed in.

The moment she saw his dark head cutting through the crowd, Gail knew she was in deep trouble. It was the way he strode towards her, his ice-blue eyes ripping a hole in her colleague's chest. Miraculously, people parted, like the Red Sea, enabling him to cleave a path directly to her. And that's when she knew he would always be a sex-god to her even though his full, soft lips were stretched into a taut smile that reached no further than his gleaming white molars. Carver Heath, entrepreneur and playboy, was on a mission.

"Carver! What are you doing here?" she gulped, confused, angry, thrilled - completely off balance. The call to run came to mind but the message didn't reach her feet. All she could do was stare wide-eyed in disbelief at him.

Placing a firm hand on her wrist, Carver backed her into a dark corner while her colleagues watched on with mild curiosity. Somehow he managed to restrict his anger to his voice. "Why didn't you return my calls?"

"Carver, please. I'm with friends. You can't just hijack me like this."

"Can't I?" Standing so close again, breathing in her perfume, Carver lost it. He might have practiced his speech a hundred times over yet, the moment she turned those deep violet eyes on him, his only thought was to propel her against the nearest hard surface and take her up against it, in front of her colleagues if necessary. His body ached with so much pent-up need it riled him. "I'm going to do much more than that by the time I'm finished with you," he growled in a voice so low only she could hear him. "I'm going to spank your ass so hard, you won't be able to sit down for a week then I'm going to have no-holds barred, fast and furious sex with you. But before that I want an answer. Why didn't you call me back?"

His explicit words shouldn't have turned her on but they did. Rebelling with every cell of her body, Gail snorted at his demand. "Because you threw me out. Because you've gone back to your ex-wife. Because I've decided to move on with my life. Is that good enough for you? Now leave me alone."

Ignoring the fluttering in her stomach, Gail tried to fold her arms across her chest to underline her words but Carver held her tight. He'd heard every word she'd spoken but his brain latched on to "I've decided to move on..." The green mist descended further until his rib cage felt like it was being crushed from the inside out. He needed to get her out of the bar and somewhere where they could talk without being interrupted.

"Come with me." He reached for her wrist.

"The hell I will. What right do you have to order me around?"

A nerve twitched in Carver's jaw. Now he was really angry, and hot, and very bothered. Hell, the outline of her nipples were poking through her blouse. She was as horny as him and the fact that they were in a very public place made it worse. Blood swirled in front of his eyes then headed south to his groin. If he didn't get her out of there soon he would do something rash but very necessary for his sanity.

"I don't have time for this," he snapped. Picking her up by the waist, he threw her over his shoulder in a fireman's lift. Tension radiated from every pore in his body, from his hands clamped tightly onto her ass, to the hunch of his shoulders and the set of his mouth, as he made a rapid exit from the bar to a round of applause and catcalls.

"Carver, please don't do this. Please, let me down. You're embarrassing me." Bouncing on his shoulder in full view of passers-by, she reigned in her natural instincts to fight back. She needed to diffuse his temper rather provide the sparks to flame it. From the vantage point of his shoulder, she lifted her head to study the familiar lines of his handsome profile.

Carver growled and held on tighter. "I'm not letting you down until you see fit to answer my questions." His voice rumbled like the onset of a summer storm.

"But I already have. This isn't rocket science, Carver. You're back with your ex-wife. Megan made it perfectly clear."

She heard him mutter under his breath but didn't catch the words. When he increased the length of his pace, Gail began to feel uneasy. Heat radiated from her face and from other parts of her body she cared not to think about. She buried her face into Carver's back. "This is ridiculous. Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere we can talk without interruptions. Because you going to hear me out, if it's one of the last things you do."

Gail squirmed. She already knew what he had planned as the ultimate last thing. And damn it if she wasn't wet and achey for him. "Carver, please. There's nothing to talk about. Why make this more difficult than it already is? It's OK. You've decided to give your marriage another go. I understand."

"Which hotel are you staying at?"

"I'm not going to tell you," she grated.

"If you don't tell me by the time I count to ten, I will set you down on this sidewalk, tip you over my knee, pull up your skirt, remove your panties, and spank your bare ass in full view of everyone and then... One... Two... Three..."

Shocked, Gail struggled to pull upright. "You wouldn't dare."

"Four... Just try me," Carver growled. "Five...I seem to recall you enjoyed the last spanking I gave you. We both did. Six... Seven... Eight..." He made as if to slide her down his body onto the pavement to carry out his threat.

A little voice in her head told her to prepare for the worse. The same voice, believing she was seconds away from having her ass exposed and spanked in public, answered him, in a breathless whisper. "It's just around the corner... in SoHo." Cursing her lack of willpower, she prayed someone would stop him before he reached her room.

Luck was not on her side. Arriving in the hotel reception area, Carver halted to get his bearings. "Room number?"

"163."

Ignoring the other guests, he strode purposefully towards the lift with Gail still balanced on his shoulder. Once the doors shut and the lift started its ascent, he set her back on her feet and stood behind her, so close she could feel his hot breath on her cheek. As usual, he wore his distinctive brand of aftershave. The one Gail would always associate with him. Confined in the small space with no escape, her back stiffened.

Carver held himself rigid too. Of all the women in the world, why had he fallen for a feisty minx with balls as big as his own? He wanted to shake her, kiss her, force her into submission with his mouth all over her skin. Then he wanted to tear off her clothes and hold her naked in his arms. And slide her down onto his cock. And fuck her senseless against the back wall of the lift. And make her call out his name as she came. He placed a restraining arm around her waist. "Remove your panties," he growled in her ear, aware that his own heart rate had hiked to triple digits.

"What?" Gail spun round to see if he was joking.

He wasn't. His face was perfectly serious. He held her tighter, the menace in his tone still evident. "I said. Remove your panties."

Gail struggled to hide her emotions. Three little words. Three simple little words, so compelling, she wanted to comply, desperately. "Are you crazy? Any one could get into the lift right now."

She turned back to face the bland, metallic doors, willing the lift to stop at every floor so that she could step out but the reflection that stared back mocked her. Desire deepened the violet hue of her eyes while Carver's behind her were commanding and as blue as the outer limits of the stratosphere, and glued to the traitorous tips of her nipples jutting against the thin silk of her shirt. Unable to move, she swallowed around the hard lump in her throat as his fingers tugged at the hem of her skirt from behind.

"What do you think you are doing?"

"Remove you panties now or I will rip them from your body, along with your bra, your shirt and skirt."

There was no doubt in her mind he would carry out his threat so she didn't need to goad him. But she did. "You wouldn't. Not in public."

"Try me." His hands worked her skirt up over her hips to expose her stocking tops and miniscule thong. If any one had entered the lift at that moment it was patently obvious what Carver's hands were doing. His palm cupped her bare ass, lighting up her skin and causing solar flares to erupt over her thighs and buttocks, not least of all her sex.

Breathing hard, Gail glared at his reflection in the door. "Go to hell."

"Baby, I'm already there, thanks to you."

Hell, he surely was. His erection pressed against the crease of her exposed ass as his fingers found the string of her thong. Before she could react, he wound an arm around her waist, giving him the freedom to tear the flimsy lace from her hips. Task completed, he pocketed the shredded remains and smoothed her skirt back down just as the lift doors opened onto her room level. Without a further word, he propelled her into the corridor, one arm still wrapped around her waist.

"Key?" he growled.

Her hands were shaking too much for them to obey. She fumbled the key card. Frustrated with waiting, Carver took the thin piece of plastic from her trembling fingers and unlocked the door himself. Once inside the room, he pushed her up against the back of the door and held her there while his desire raged like an out of control forest fire making him feel as though he was physically burning up.

The thought of taking her fully-clothed, fast and frenzied against the solid wood, had strong appeal. But he also needed answers. Re-ranking his priorities, he kissed her first, hard and demanding, forcing her mouth open to accept his tongue before coming up for air.

"Admit it, sweetheart. Right now, you're wet and hot for me. That's what happens when we're together." He pinned her wrists against the door, either side of her head, and kissed her again, forcing soft whimpering noises from her throat. "Why didn't you call me, Gail? Why didn't you have the courtesy to pick up the phone and let me know you where you were?"

"I lost my phone." Gail's cheeks flamed. He was too male, too angry, too aroused. Another kiss like the last one and she would combust from the sparks coming from his lips. She shook her head to clear her mind. "You arrogant bastard! Why would I contact you? Especially after Megan took up residence?"

Carver stepped backwards to study her slim form, from the top of her head to her dainty toes. Fuck, no other woman had the power to get under his skin and make him itch like her. She was as sexy as sin and he had to fuck her right now or he would surely burn in hell. He needed control. "Not good enough. Take off your shirt."

Obstinacy waged war against raw sexual need. There was a right and a wrong answer. Gail chose to walk the fine line. "You'll have to tear it off me," she challenged, "because I'm not going to make this easy for you."

"If that's the way you want it, I will. Then we'll see how immune you are to me." He took a step forward and, without bothering to undo the buttons, rent her shirt apart with both hands then spun her round to face the door to rip the fabric from her back.

Gail grimaced. Damn, what was it with her favourite shirts and Carver that he had to ruin them. As he unzipped her skirt and let it drop to the floor, she felt naked and totally exposed. He wedged his knee between her thighs, forcing her to step out of her skirt as he widened her stance, and traced his knuckles down her back to the dimple above her ass. Thank god she was facing the door. He couldn't see how much his actions affected her. Her nipples practically pierced the thin lace of her bra cups and her sex throbbed with anticipation above her stockings.

Contrary to the urgent force he'd displayed, his fingers were light against her hips and naked buttocks. His cock swelled at the silky smoothness of her skin, reliving memories of California, in the hot tub, on the breakfast table, in the super king-size bed. His breath fanned across her cheek as he circled her inner ear with the tip of his tongue. He could take her right now, up against the door, and die a happy man. He knew she was ready for him. Hell, he could smell her arousal. It would be imprinted on his nasal memory forever. "I'll ask you one more time. Why didn't you call me back? And this time, if you don't tell me the truth, you lose you bra."

At last, Gail turned round to face him. The raw, dark sensuality in his expression made her heart freeze mid-leap in her chest. When he looked at her like that, as though he could devour her in one bite, she was fucked in every sense. Without her thong as a barrier and her sex completely hair-free, her juices ran down the inside of her thighs towards her stocking tops. "What do you want from me, Carver?" she trembled. The question was irrelevant yet she had to ask, if only to delay the inevitable.

As she stood against the door half naked, Carver couldn't tear his eyes away. He offered up a silent prayer. She'd been professionally waxed since he'd seen her last and the sight of her hairless sex was pure perfection. He had to taste her. "I've just told you. I want you completely naked."

"What about Megan?"

"Here and now, Gail. This isn't about Megan. This is about you and me. You have ten seconds to remove your bra or I'll go straight to Plan B. Make your mind up."

Bathed in the last rays of sunlight streaming through the windows, Gail made one last defiant stand. He wanted to have sex with her. That was obvious. His pupils were dilated, his chest rose and fell. Then there was the tell-tale bulge in his trousers. She wanted him too but damned if she was going to offer herself up willingly. She wanted to see how far she could push him before he snapped and did something they both wanted. The time for recrimination would come later.

Inhaling deeply, she inched the straps of her bra, one at a time, past her shoulders. Not for a single minute did she lift her eyes from his face as she reached behind to undo the clasp at her back. She knew her own arousal was evident from the tortured look on his face. It also told her his self-control was close to breaking point. His demons were etched as clear as a Maori tattoo across his forehead and taut cheekbones.

To taunt him further, she slipped off her bra and let it drop to the floor then licked the pads of her thumbs with the tip of her tongue in a wholly sensuous gesture before cupping her breasts and deliberately rolling her thumbs over her erect nipples to make them wet and puckered.

Wearing just stockings and high heels, she leant back against the door, spread her legs and glided her hands down the length of her body to the apex of her thighs. The balance of power shifted briefly in her favour, but not for long. She saw his breath spike as her fingers disappeared into her wet heat.

Carver let out a long, rumbling groan. Icy flames of desire lit up his eyes. Each time her fingers plunged in and out of her sex, the more coated with her cream he saw them become. His skin felt impossibly tight and his body throbbed for contact. It should be his tongue, his mouth, his fingers between her legs. If she wanted to play dirty, he could oblige.

"Did I tell you to touch yourself?"

She shook her head and continued to stroke herself. Holding his gaze, her face displayed a sensuality that, combining with the sight of her masturbating, was too much for Carver. Beads of perspiration broke out on his forehead. Even from six feet away, he could smell her unique, sexy scent coupled with a light note of vanilla. Body lotion or shower gel? He had to find out. Pulling her away from the door, he gripped her wrists and pulled them to his face to jealously lick her juices from her fingers.

"You are mine. Do you understand?" he demanded. "I will tell you what you can and can't do, including when you can come."

Gail rolled her lower lip between her teeth. The desire to taste herself on his tongue was strong but she was still defiant. "What gives you the right to order me around?

"This." He honed in on her mouth with a demanding kiss that left her nowhere to hide. Before she could catch her breath he was on his knees, between her legs, cradling her buttocks in both hands. "And this."

Fuck. She knew he was an expert at oral sex but when the flat of his tongue swept across her sex from back to front then formed a point to focus on her clit, her legs gave way and she had to lean on him for support. Damn, the man deserved a medal for services to womankind. Each sweep, each flick, each bite, each suck had her hips dancing to his rhythm. And when his fingers took over and found her g-spot, the very last of her defences were breached.

"Oh god, Carver. Oh god," she moaned.

"I knew you weren't immune to me," he stated.

Her breathy, little gasps of pleasure spurred him on. The more he tongue and finger-fucked her, the more uninhibited she became. Carver smiled insideas she held his head in place and thrust against his mouth, using him to take what she needed. He couldn't deny her. Just watching her get off on his face, she was beautiful, both to watch and feel. And her taste... The fact that he could make her come apart so easily turned him on like never before.

He'd missed her. More than he had realised. Even when he'd gone to bed every night with a raging hard-on at the thought of her naked in his bed and woken up hard and needy a few hours later, the stinging spray of a cold shower his only relief. He'd craved her taste, her smell, and the silky feel of her skin. More than that, he'd wanted to kiss her, see her face lit up with a smile, hear her voice, and feel the vibrations around the base of his cock when she laughed. Finally, the real thing was in his grasp, no longer an erotic dream.

He could tell by the colour of her eyes and the expression on her face that she was close to orgasm. He was close too. He needed to be inside her. With one movement, he stood up, eased his cock out of his pants with his free hand, and lifted her up to wrap her legs around his waist.

Her fingers burrowed inside his jacket, tracing the muscles across his chest and back. "Please, Carver. I need you." Her lilac eyes focused on his mouth as though willing him to kiss her, and her skin was damp to his touch.

If the world came to an end at that moment, Carver wouldn't have cared less. Poised with her sex gripping the tip of his shaft, she felt wonderful. His chest heaved with the effort of trying to fill his lungs with oxygen and his heart pounded in his ears. He held her tight, kissing her eyes, her face and neck, not wanting to lose the connection her felt as he lowered her slowly onto his cock. He knew she felt it too. Her eyes flew wide open as he drove inside of her until the base of his shaft connected with her pubic bone.

Primal instinct, the most basic of human needs - the need to procreate- coupled with the joy of finding intense pleasure and ultimate release inside another person's body took over his actions. Thrusting deep with long, forceful strokes, he laid claim to her over and over, kissing her mouth, her neck, her breasts, everywhere he could reach. He allowed her no respite, even when she begged.

This was what he'd wanted, needed. This is what he'd dreamt of back in Hong Kong. A sense of urgency drove him harder. His shirt and jacket were soaked with sweat, his and hers, and still he maintained a feverish rhythm. His thighs and buttocks clenched, straining with each thrust to possess her. She felt like heaven - sweet, sweet heaven. And then the feel of her body wrapped around his was too much. Holding back was impossible. With one last powerful thrust, he took them both over the edge into a haze of teeth-baring, muscle-wrenching ecstasy that went on for ever.

He wanted to maintain the deep connection with her for as long as he could but, as he regained his sanity, cold reason grounded him again. He still needed answers. Removing her legs from his waist, he placed her back on the floor and held her shoulders. "No more games. Please, Gail. Why didn't you return my calls?"

For the first time since seeing him stride towards her in the bar, Gail realised how tired he looked. From close up, the sockets around his bright-blue eyes were bruised and his cheek bones gaunt. The energy he normally exuded was missing. His vulnerability touched a place in her heart and saddened her.

Without realising it, she reached up and caressed his cheek. "Why are you here, Carver?" she whispered. "You chose Megan over me. What do you want?"

"I want you, Gail. All of you. Forget Megan."

She shook her head. "I won't be your mistress, Carver. I deserve more than that."

Carver frowned. "Of course you do. Why would you think I want you to be my mistress?"

Gail tilted her head. Could he really be that obtuse? Or was he playing games? "Because Megan made it perfectly plain that you two were back together again. That you had decided to patch up your marriage. Or has your reconciliation fallen apart already?"

Carver shook his head, not comprehending. He forced his mind back to the events of their last night in San Francisco. "Baby, you've lost me. Why on earth would you think I'm back with Megan? I told you before. Megan and I were over a long time ago."

Tears shimmered, making her eyes look huge. She wanted to believe him. Oh god, she so much wanted to believe him. But she needed the truth however much it might hurt. "Please don't lie to me, Carver. You sent Megan to tell me we were over. Why couldn't you tell me to my face? That hurt more than anything else. More than seeing my bags packed when I returned to the suite."

Comprehension dawned on his face. "Megan told you we were over?"

"You know she did. You sent her. You couldn't even come out to face me."

Damn Megan. She'd done her worst. Well, he'd make her pay for the hell she'd put him through, with interest.

He pulled Gail into a tight embrace that expelled the air from both of their lungs. "Baby, I didn't tell her to get rid of you. I wasn't there." He drew back to study her face.

"Five minutes after you walked out, I received a call from Jo. Tom had been in a serious car accident. I spent the whole night and most of the next day at Marin County Hospital with Jo and the boys, waiting to find out whether he was OK. I called you numerous times to let you know where I was but you wouldn't pick up. And when I got back to the suite the next day you'd gone. I didn't know how to find you. I've been out of my mind with worry."

"I lost my phone," Gail muttered. Suddenly her heart and lungs felt too big for her rib cage. "Is Tom alright? Is Jo OK?"

"Yes, they both are, thankfully" He planted a relieved kiss on her mouth. Already, he could feel the tension leaving his body. "I missed you so much, baby. You have no idea of the hell you've put me through over the past week. We have a lot of catching up to do." He picked her up and carried her across to the bed to deposit her on her feet.

"Then you're not back with Megan?"

"No. There's only one woman in the world I want right now. And that's you. I'm going to make love to you all night until you beg me to stop."

Gail smiled. Asking him to stop was something she couldn't imagine. Hell, she needed him again. "Let's start by getting you out of those clothes." Staring at his proud, beautiful face, she inched her hands inside his jacket to ease it from his shoulders until it dropped onto the bedroom floor. "That's better. I prefer you naked."

Carver took back the control. "Take off my shirt and tie."

A wicked smile curved her lips. "Can I rip them from your body, Master?"

Carver pulled her against him. "If that's what you want." He nestled a kiss against the side of her mouth and worked towards her neck, gently at first and then more demanding towards her breasts as he ground his semi-erection into her stomach.

Delirious with pleasure, Gail sighed. "I'll settle with having you naked beneath my hands. I want to rediscover every inch of you."

Desperate to taste his magnificent body again, she undid his tie, unbuttoned his shirt at the cuffs and along the central fastening, and glided her fingers over his bare torso, re-acquainting her hands and mouth with the smooth contours of his chest and back. Only the solid beat of his heart and the searing heat of his skin revealed how much her touch affected him. At last, when she raised her eyes to his, Carver growled his next instruction. "Trousers."

"Yes, Master." Gail's heart thrummed in her rib cage. The nightmare of the previous week hadn't been completely exorcised but, at that moment, she didn't have the willpower to resist. All she could think of was his cock filling her again, making her feel complete. Nothing else mattered.

Sliding down his pants down past his hips, she reached for him. God, he felt wonderful - thicker than before and silkier beneath her fingertips, if that was possible. She moistened her lips with her tongue and eased his trousers and boxer shorts down to his ankles prolonging the moment she took his magnificent length into her mouth. At last, when she'd freed him of all of his clothes, she knelt on the floor between his legs and looked up at him coyly. "I seem to remember an outstanding IOU."

From the width of his sexy grin, he hadn't forgotten.

"I promised to be your sex-slave for a night. And you didn't cash in the whole IOU."

She gripped the base of his cock and squeezed gently. The first circle with the point of her tongue around his tip had him jerking. The second, teasing up the length of his vein to his slit, ramped up his heart-beat to dangerous levels, especially when she took him deep into her mouth. A sound of unadulterated pleasure escaped from his throat, rumbling around his chest, right down to his cock.

"Sweetheart, your talents are wasted in HR."

"As are yours in entrepreneuring, Master. Do you like your slave doing this to you?"

Carver groaned mid-nod as he watched her take him right to the back of her throat. She didn't need guidance or instruction to do what pleased him most. She read his body signals and guttural breathing to bring him as close to climax, using her lips, her tongue and teeth in a hard sucking motion that make his blood sizzle and his balls tighten beneath his rigid cock. On the brink of coming in her mouth, he experienced a physical pain when she pulled back and stood up to sway sensuously to a Latin beat in her head.

His cock throbbing from the loss of her mouth, he watched her dance. How could he not? She was a walking, talking work of art, with or without clothes, as she posed provocatively, for his eyes only. And her talented mouth had brought him so close to an explosive climax, his whole body ached for release. His IOU would be cashed completely, but not just yet.

"Take off your stockings," he growled.

The first thought that flashed through his testosterone-numbed brain was that she was going to disobey him as she pulled a chair from a side table and positioned it sideways on to the bed. Then she balanced a slender foot on the seat, giving him a glimpse of her beautiful naked sex to keep him on edge.

She loved the way he looked at her - as though he was seconds from ravishing her in a frenzy of uncontrolled lust. His desire made her bolder and ramped up her own. No longer thinking of Megan or the consequences of the evening, or the following day, she rolled her right stocking with slow, sexy movements down her thighs, past her knees to her ankles. She kicked off her shoe to slip it off over her toes then did the same with the left stocking. With one foot still raised on the chair, she angled her leg to give him a tantalising view of her sex. Thank god he wasn't a once-a-night- is- enough guy because her libido was in full flow.

Carver recognised her need and didn't plan to disappoint. "Turn around and bend over with your legs slightly apart."

This time Gail did as he commanded. The promise that any moment soon, the thing she wanted most in the world, to be filled with his beautiful, thick cock again, made her sex ache harder for him. She took up the stance, the stiff bud of her clit, her swollen slit and puckered ass-hole exposed and ready for his touch.

Positioning himself directly behind her, Carver breathed in a lungful of her perfume. He ran one hand across the swell of her buttocks and up her spine to wind his fingers in her hair while he placed his other hand around her rib cage and pulled her upright against his hard flesh. Soft moans escaped her throat as he rolled her taut nipple between his fingers and nipped his teeth hard against the hollow between her neck and shoulder-blade, while his cock brushed across her clit. Releasing her hair, he moved his other hand to her breast, and glided the other past her belly button to dip his fingers into her mound, circling her sensitive lower lips with feather-light strokes. He drew his cock back across her sex until it reared against her sweet ass hole.

Cool air tickled her neck as she felt him inhale. "Are you sniffing me?" she whispered, surprised yet heavily aroused.

"Mmmhmm," he rumbled. "And you smell good enough to eat. The trouble is I just don't know where to start." He pressed two fingers into her tight slit while his thumb circled her clit.

"Ohhhh," she moaned. " _That's_ as good a place as any."

Carver chuckled as he nuzzled her cheek. "I thought so too. Do you want me, baby?"

"Mmmhmm." Her response was lost as she tipped back her head onto his shoulder to lick the taut underside of his jaw. Did she want him? Hell, yes. His fingers were magic. Did she need him? As much as she needed air to breathe, as much as she wanted this moment to never end, because end it would. All too soon.

She cupped the hand he held on her breast and encouraged him to roll her nipples harder while her fingers guided his lower hand to where she needed him most.

"That's right. Show me what you want," he whispered as stroked her insides.

The sensation was too much. What ever he was doing, wherever he touched, it was too good to stop. Before she knew it, the tightness in her abdomen had rebuilt, exploding outwards from her core to her breasts, right down to the tips of her toe nails. Her toe nails? He didn't stop. Her mind tipped to sensory overload and her body became boneless. Someone, somewhere, cried out his name over and over as the build up recommenced. It didn't register it was her own voice until he removed his fingers to centre her hips and massage her from behind. The orgasm that followed was intense but solo.

Carver pressed his lips to the back of her neck. "You're so beautiful, baby. I want to watch you come this time."

The bed was to his left. Before she could recover from the tremors that wracked her body, he picked her up and laid her gently on the mattress. He took a few moments to smother kisses across her breasts, stomach and hip bones then lay down between her outstretched thighs to tease the entrance of her sex with the tip of his cock. When she tried to guide him into her, desperate to be filled again, he stopped mid-thrust. "Not until you beg, sweetheart. I need to know that you want me as much as I want you."

"I do want you, Carver," she sobbed. "I've never wanted anyone else like this before." She arched her back and gripped the bed sheets either side of her. "Please, Carver. You're driving me crazy. I need to feel you inside of me."

Satisfied with her answer, he penetrated slow and deep and watched the anguish in her eyes change to ecstasy as her muscles settled around his shaft like a glove. "You feel so good, baby," he whispered.

Her response was buried in a line of searing kisses along his shoulder blade and neck while her fingers fluttered across his back, his chest and the muscles of his forearms. For Carver, it was too much of a distraction. Removing her hands, he pinned her wrists to the headboard and sought her mouth, her face, her breasts, taking everything she offered and more.

Matching her heartbeat for heart beat, hip roll for hip roll, he felt and experienced every nuance of her body and, with each thrust, he lost himself further. The tiredness that had etched his face earlier vanished, replaced by a glow of deep contentment that radiated from every pore. No amount of mental exertion was necessary to rein in his libido. Buried inside her, it felt as though he could go forever. No repetitive prayers, no reciting favourite songs or creating lengthy lists in his head required to stave off the need to climax. Making love with Gail was akin to a spiritual experience \- a thousand times more meaningful than sex and on a whole different level than the pleasure of exploring erotic sexual fantasies. Somehow, she had reached inside of him and broken down every one of his barriers until the need to possess her and for her to possess him was his sole _raison d'etre_.

As he increased the tempo, he established a deep, soul-binding rhythm that re-enforced the physical and mental bond with her. Without needing to voice it out loud, he knew the precise moment she finally opened herself fully to him. It was just before they came as one body, one heart, one soul, in a sky-rocketing climax that shot them both clear past the Milky Way.

Chapter 14

Leaving Carver in New York, asleep in bed just hours after the most profound sexual experience of her life, to fly to Prague, without a goodbye kiss, or contact details, just a short note to say she couldn't see him again, was the lowest moment of her life. To make matters worse, Carver's face had been plastered across the cover of the inflight magazine. Which ever way she turned his face stared back at her throughout the entire flight. Taking advantage of being the only person in her aisle, she turned towards the aircraft window and let the tears fall.

It was payback, of course, for being a heel. She could have told him she was booked on a flight to Prague first thing the next morning, to start a new assignment in Central Europe, when he manhandled her from the bar and dragged her to her hotel. It wasn't as if she'd lacked chances to tell him in between making love all night. She'd just chosen not to. She'd been cowardly, gutless, spineless, and pathetic. And frightened to let him take control of the last thing that was hers to give - her heart. That same organ, in her rib-cage, felt bruised and battered.

Eventually, curiosity got the better of her. She flicked to the feature article and glanced at the text. The interview discussed his business ethics, his ideas on where the "next big thing" would come from, and a brief outline of his leisure pursuits. There was even a brief mention to his trip to San Francisco. He could have been speaking to her through the written word. Gail closed her eyes and tried to sleep, without success. A trip to the toilet cabin to patch up her puffy face before landing didn't help either, especially when she had to walk past several rows all with Carver's picture tucked in the seat back pocket.

Contrary to advice in the agony columns of the female magazines, time only made the hurt worse. In the four weeks since she'd arrived in Prague, photographs of Carver with his ex-wife in San Francisco and again in Hong Kong had been plastered across the internet and international newspapers - proof, if she needed it, that he'd seduced his way into her bed at the precise time the papers were reporting that a reconciliation with his wife was imminent. To say she felt like an idiot of Olympic Gold medal status was an understatement.

Work-wise, her assignment was progressing well. The training for the computer system was almost completed, as was the rewrite of the manual and, after two weeks of reviewing hundreds of CVs for a handful of jobs in Prague, Warsaw and Bratislava, and a brief visit to London in between to celebrate her parents' wedding anniversary, Gail had already completed the first round of interviews for Prague.

"Hello Gail. How's the recruiting going?"

"Hello Mr. Weng Lee. Good, thanks. I'm interviewing in Warsaw tomorrow and Bratislava the following week. We have a strong group of candidates, particularly here in the Czech Republic."

"That's good to hear. Actually, I'm phoning to speak to you about a personal matter."

Gail's heart sank. Had Graham filed a grievance against her after all? Just how many curve balls could life throw her way? She waited for Mr. Weng Lee to continue.

"Gail, you know I don't normally like getting involved in my staff's private lives, but this problem won't go away."

Gail's mouth went dry. Graham had gone back on his word.

"Do you know Carver Heath, the entrepreneur based in Hong Kong?"

Unease washed over her with the force of a tsunami. "Carver Heath? Yes. We met on the flight to San Francisco. Why?"

"He's asked for your contact details. I thought it best to check with you first. Like I said, I don't normally get involved with this sort of thing but he's been extremely persistent. He won't take no for an answer. He's been camped outside the office the last two weeks."

The image of Carver's chiselled face and piercing blue eyes waiting for her opposite the building entrance entered her mind. Handsome, sexy, and as stylish as a GQ model, the man had to be arrogance personified not to accept he'd been dumped not once but twice in the same week. Persistent with a capital P. More like masochist with a capital M. He'd even gone to her boss. How embarrassing was that?

"I can't think why. We only met a few times."

"He says he needs to speak to you on a matter of urgency. Can't I at least give him you email address?"

"NO!" Her response was too emphatic -emphatic enough for Mr. Weng Lee to know that Carver was more than someone she'd met on a plane. She softened her tone. "I'm sorry. What I mean is, he had no right to ask you. I'm grateful that you didn't give him my details without speaking to me first."

She heard her boss take a deep breath. "Whatever happened between you, he's not going away. He needs to speak to you, Gail. He's insistent." Mr. Weng Lee's voice was firm yet understanding. "I have his email address. I can't dictate what you do in your personal life, but I recommend that you resolve this before it becomes a work issue."

"But..."

"I don't want to hear anymore about it. Contact him. Having him camped outside the office is bad for business, however much I admire his tenacity."

Gail stared at her email inbox. An untitled email from Carver Heath. So, Mr. Weng Lee had gone against her wishes and given Carver her contact details after all. She poised a finger over the delete button but her brain was out of synch with her hand. She pressed open instead.

" _Congratulations on your Central European assignment. How's Prague? Miss you. X - Carver"_

She stared at the text for a full five minutes. What was he playing at? Her second thought was "Thank god, he didn't know she was in Warsaw for the week, carrying out interviews". She couldn't bear the thought of him turning up unannounced like he had done in New York.

The email was still in her inbox when she arrived for work the next morning, and the following morning too. She'd not replied and he'd made no further attempt to contact her. She reread the message, trying to second guess his motives. She assumed it was an opening gambit to re-establish communications channels between them. She was damned if she did, and damned if she didn't.

She typed a one word response _"Thanks."_ and hit send.

Seconds later, his response came back. _"Miss me? X - Carver"_

Gail frowned at the clock on her desk. It was several hours past midnight in Hong Kong. Unless he was in a different time zone, he was still working. Damn him. Just the thought of him behind a desk somewhere, his tie askew and his top collar buttons slightly open to reveal a deep v of olive skin, made her heart come alive.

" _Ditch the bitch and I'm all yours_ " came to mind as a response. She would be in a heart beat. She still cared about him. Even more since he'd touched her soul in New York. Instead she typed the opposite. _"Not in a million years."_

" _I miss you. Why did you run out on me in New York? I thought we had something special. X - Carver"_

That he'd pointed out the virtual elephant in the virtual room got her riled. She typed furiously.

" _1. My flight to Europe left at 9.00 a.m. that morning."_

" _2. There's nothing special between us. It was just sex. Nothing more. 2 consenting adults."_

" _3. Go back to your wife and get on with your life."_

" _P.S. I saw the photographs of you two together."_

" _How many other reasons do you need?. X - Gail"_

Fuming, she pressed send and got up from her desk to walk across to the coffee machine to calm down. The gossip pages of the international press had been full of Carver and Megan's love-rematch. How dare he think he could play her for a fool.

Gulping down near-boiling hot coffee, she scalded her tongue, spilt a sizeable splash of dark brown liquid down her blouse, and caught her stockings on a desk. Damn. Her first round interviewees for the Warsaw posts were scheduled in ten minutes time. She couldn't greet the candidates frazzled and looking like a bag lady. What she could do was soak the stain from her shirt and go bare legged while trying to deep breathe herself into a better frame of mind. Fuck Carver Heath and his "I miss you." And fuck Megan too.

After a quick detour to the Ladies, Gail returned to her desk. Carver had sent another email.

" _What did I tell you about believing everything you read in the press? You should trust me. X - Carver"_

" _LOL. Trust and Carver Heath don't figure on the same page in my book. X - Gail"_

Her phone beeped indicating that her interviewee had arrived. She deleted the trail of emails she'd exchanged with Carver, picked up her notes and made her way to the interview room.

She should have realised Carver wouldn't take no for an answer. Over the course of following two weeks, no matter what time of day, he continued to email her. Sometimes he sent a link to an article on the internet he thought she might be interested in, sometimes a photograph - some innocent, meant to amuse, others more provocative -like the photographs he had taken on his phone with and without her knowledge during their weekend in the Napa Valley. It surprised and puzzled her that he had taken so many considering it had only ever meant to be an illicit weekend fling. The one of them smiling at the camera, his cheek pressed against the side of her head, her neck slightly tilted, and her arms raised behind her to drape around his neck was the most painful. Taken the morning they checked out of the Crakken Estate Lodge, it was obvious, from the shared intimacy of their smiles, that they had just made love. That photograph, and all the others of their time together, she saved to her laptop to flick through each night before she went to sleep.

After a while, expecting his emails became part of her daily routine. She even deigned to respond to some of them. But his latest had her perturbed.

" _Free Flying Lesson courtesy of Synchrocity Enterprises"_

The email was simply an electronic voucher for a prepaid two hour flying lesson from any airport she wished. No message from Carver, just the usual terms and conditions covering Synchrocity in case of accident, death or acts of nature.

" _Do you think I'm crazy enough to fall for that stunt twice? I remember the last time. X - Gail"_

" _I remember what happened afterwards. XXXXXXXX - Carver."_

So did she! The memory of what they'd got up to on the back seat of his car brought colour to her cheeks. She chose not to respond. It would only open up a fruitless discussion.

The following day, Carver's latest email also contained no message - just a link to a newspaper article in The South China Morning Post. As she launched the page it became obvious why Carver had sent it. The article confirmed that a belated but hefty divorce settlement had been paid out by Hong Kong-based businessman and entrepreneur, Carver Heath, to his ex-wife, Megan Riley, who now lived in the USA. The article speculated on the full cost of the settlement, which as well as several million dollars as a lump sum included a number of small but profitable businesses that Carver had built up from scratch. The last paragraph of the article covered some of Carver's recent business deals, including investment in Terramardan, new business venture in the UK, and the possibility of a joint venture partnership with John Stanton-Hope, a business tycoon based in California.

The realisation that Carver had been telling the truth about his ex-wife made the blood drain from her face. Her palms and forehead beaded with sweat and she felt both dizzy and nauseous. He had been telling the truth. He'd always been telling the truth, right from the start, but she'd been too insecure to realise it. By sending her the link, he'd placed the ball squarely in her court. Whether she chose to play it or not was a decision she couldn't take lightly.

Gail switched on her laptop in her temporary apartment. It was her night to speak to her parents on Skype. Unusual for mid-week, both Mark and Dan joined the call with her Mum and Dad. Everyone was bubbling with excitement, except Gail.

"Yes, it all took off really quickly," Dan said. "We submitted our business plan to an investment forum on the internet hoping that it would attract a business angel and it did."

Masking her own feeling, Gail tried to be enthusiastic for them. "So when did you come up with the idea?"

Mark replied. "We've been talking about it for some time now. But it only started to become a serious option when Dan opted to retire from the Special Forces. He needed to find a new job and I was fed up with building satellites. So we came up with the idea together."

"Sounds brilliant. What name have you chosen for the company?" Gail held her breath. Please god, please god, let it be anything other than...

"Terramardan," her brothers replied in unison.

Hot and cold sweat broke out across her skin. "Have you met him? Your business angel?"

Daniel took over the conversation. "Yes. He's based in Hong Kong but we met up with him a couple of weeks ago when he came over to London. He took the whole family out to dinner. Hey, maybe you've heard of him. Hong Kong is a small place."

He'd met her Mum and Dad? Why would he do that? The contents of her stomach threatened to push up past her throat. "What's his name?"

"Carver Heath."

Chapter 15

There was no denying it, the man was gorgeous, simply perfection. Gail watched him wink at the stewardess as he boarded the business class cabin. Of all the empty seats on the plane flying direct to Hong Kong, she knew he would claim the empty seat next to her. And this time, she would happily take him by the hand and lead him to the restrooms to reacquaint herself with his beautifully sculpted body.

Her heart beat louder as he stopped by her seat and turned to stow his bag in the overhead locker. Allowing her eyes to rove from his knees upwards, lingering over his well-defined package, clearly hard within his pants, and on to his toned chest muscles, she looked directly into his face. Ice-blue eyes stared back at her above a pair of full, sensuous lips that curled up at the edges. He knew exactly what she was thinking.

"Do you need anything from the overhead locker, baby?" His luminous eyes raked over her face and breasts, stripping her naked with his laser-like stare. Heat flared in her cheeks and somewhere else she cared not to think about.

"No thanks. I have everything I need now." Not waiting for him to buckle up, she reached for his tie and pulled him down to kiss his luscious mouth. A physical spark of electricity shot from her mouth to her brain as he took control to deepen the kiss. The air hostess coughed discretely behind them.

"If you'd like to take your seat, Mr. Heath, the pilot is cleared for take-off in five minutes."

"What about the other passengers?" Gail asked. She looked around the cabin. There was no-one else on board. Only Carver, herself and the crew. The air hostess disappeared to buckle herself in up the front.

"It's just us this flight, sweetheart," Carver explained. "I hired a private plane to bring you home. It has a fully-stocked bar, Michelin-star catering..." he nuzzled his lips against the sensitive skin beneath her ear, "...and a bedroom with a king-size bed. I hope you are feeling tired, baby. It's a fourteen hour flight and I brought the silk ties."

"Silk ties?" Gail grinned. She wasn't imagining the familiar feel of his body vibrating with desire.

"Yes. I'm going to tie you to the bed so that you can never run away from me again." He grabbed the courtesy blanket and draped it over the both of them.

"Will you strip me naked first?" Her panties were soaked as he slid his hand beneath her t-shirt and reacquainted himself with her nearest breast. She reciprocated by running her fingers over his confined cock.

"Mmmhmm," he muttered against her neck. "Naked, spread-eagled and tied to the bed with pure silk ribbons. That's how I want my future wife." He pinched her nipple hard on the key word causing Gail to practically orgasm on the spot.

The seam of her jeans pressed the string of her thong against her clit. "Wife?"

"Mmmhmm." Under cover of the blanket, Carver's fingers slipped between her legs and rubbed hard. Gail spread her legs as wide as her seat could allow, giving him better access, then trapped his fingers to keep them where she wanted them. The plane was on the runway, revving up for take off but all she was aware of was his fingers rubbing her clit through her jeans. And then she came, with his mouth hard on hers to muffle her cries of pleasure.

"Are you sniffing me again?" Carver mused, sated, naked and half asleep in king-size bed.

"I can't help it. I love the smell of your skin," she replied, equally sated, naked and sleepy.

"And I love yours too, baby." He wrapped his arms around her body and tangled her legs with his. "I'm never going to let you go again. Even if I have to handcuff you to me."

The idea must have appealed. Gail felt him grow hard against her stomach again even though he'd just finished pleasuring her for the nth time in as many hours. God, it was official. They could apply to the Guinness Book of World Records for the record of having sex all night on a plane. She felt dizzy with love, thoroughly sexed-up and achey from muscles only Carver could reach. She made a mental note to throw out her friendly, silicone Rabbit when she got home. Strike that thought. Carver would probably derive as much fun using it on her as she would letting him, after he'd tied her to the bed.

Carver checked his watch. "Baby, we need to get showered and dressed. We'll be landing in a couple of hours."

Gail drew herself up onto his chest. "That's easier said than done."

"Why?"

"Well firstly, you've ridden me so hard, I don't think I can walk. And secondly, you ripped my clothes again. I have nothing to wear, unless I request my luggage from the hold."

"Sounds perfect to me." He raised his neck from the pillow to steal a kiss while he fondled her ass. "I suppose you could always wear the complimentary bath-robe."

"Yeah, and I could also wear a sign on my head that says "I've just been fucked senseless by Carver Heath - sex-god extraordinaire.""

Carver chuckled. "Sex-god extraordinaire... I like the sound of that. Maybe I'll get some stickers made up. You know the type that you..." He ducked to avoid being hit by a pillow.

What started off as harmless teasing became a full on battle as he used every trick up his sleeve to tickle her into submission. Laughing hard between catching their breath, he used his weight to stop her from wriggling free. Skin to skin, her instant arousal was obvious, as was his.

"Has anyone told you, you have the sexiest laugh?" he observed.

"Has anyone told you, you have the sexiest body?"

Carver grinned. "You like my body?"

Gail rolled her eyes. "I like the total package. You've turned me from a dried-up, sex-less spinster into a raving nymphomaniac," she smiled up at him. She wore a slight flush, embarrassed that her body could respond so quickly to his.

Carver brushed the hair back from her cheeks and nipped at her lower lip and the tip of her nose. "Baby, that's one thing you'll never hear me complaining about. I can't get enough of you either."

It was true. Hell, if they never got out of bed again, she would die supremely happy and sexually satisfied in every way. To say that Carver was an experienced and inventive lover was an understatement. The things he did with his hands and mouth were beyond her wildest imagination. He also gave her the freedom to experiment, to embrace her fantasies. And each time he filled her with his massive cock, the emotion she felt as he stretched her inner walls and filled her with his thick, smooth length was the most intense she'd ever felt, even more than the pain of their split. And now she wanted to feel him inside of her all over again.

"We've turned into a pair of randy teenagers. Do you think it will wear off in time?" she asked.

A cloud passed across his eyes. He rolled her onto her back and pushed himself up to study her, his face deadly serious. "Is that what you think, Gail? You think this feeling will wear off?"

The thick, bulbous head of his cock nudged at her sex as she stared back at him. She read the questions in his eyes but was struck dumb, unable to answer for the emotion seeping from him into her soul. With the slightest of movements, she shook her head. "Not for me," she whispered, not taking her eyes from his handsome face.

"For me neither," he whispered hoarsely as he thrust beyond the entrance of her sex. "Baby, I fell in love with you the moment I saw you in that Executive Lounge. You've turned my world upside down and inside out. Those few days and nights in San Francisco were the happiest of my life. And when you left me, the worst. More so after that night in New York."

He reached the limit of her womb and held still, giving her time to stretch around him until she fit him perfectly. Then he started to move with a tenderness that brought tears to her eyes. "You make me whole, Gail. All that I am is yours." He kissed away her tears and enveloped her in his love. "I mean it, baby. I can not function without you. I love you and that's forever. Not for a weekend, or a couple of weeks but the rest of our lives. I want to marry you. Have children with you. I want to go forward with you by my side and grow old secure in your love." He was fast approaching climax, the emotion of the moment to huge to hold back. "I love you, Gail. Please, marry me."

Epilogue

Carver woke sometime in the early hours of the morning with a smile on his face. Time zones blended into one as he realised he was in his own bed. Then a warm body snuggled back into him and his cock stirred against a soft, pliant butt.

He caught the familiar scent coupled with the musky smell of sex emanating from her body, and relaxed. It was OK. He was right where he wanted to be, where he'd always planned to be, where he belonged. The stirring of his body told him there was only one place better that would make his world complete.

Nuzzling his mouth against a warm neck, he found her pulse point and sucked. His fingers found the peak of her right nipple. He circled her aureole with his right thumb and felt a surge of desire streak from his fingers to his groin as her nipple puckered. She wriggled back against his erection half-asleep.

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Heath," he whispered into her ear, teasing the lobe between his teeth. A lilac basque lay on the deep pile rug on the floor, alongside a matching suspender belt and white, fishnet stockings, and a spanking paddle. His cock thickened at the memory of the previous night's fantasy-fest.

"Merry Christmas, yourself." Her voice was thick with sleep, and so sexy. "Are you concealing a present somewhere about your person or are you going to have your wicked way with me again?"

"What do you think?"

A delicate hand slipped between them to grip his cock. "Let's see. Is it a present? Mmmh, I guess it could be."

He heard the warmth in her voice and let the feeling of pure contentment wash over him as her fingers glided up and down his rigid shaft. "You do know it's loaded and ready to go off at any minute. Especially if you keep on doing that."

Gail turned to face him, her eyes bright and a seductive smile on her lips. "I guess we better put it to good use then."

Before Carver could object, she dived under the sheets and circled him with her tongue, up and over, round and down until his breathing hiked and his legs began to tense. He wrapped his fingers in her hair and held her in place as his hips rose from the bed in synch with her rhythm.

Gail poked her head above the covers, her fingers caressing his engorged cock. "How are you doing up there, husband?"

"Good. Don't stop."

"Damn, and I was hoping we could have a conversation." She nipped back under the covers and took him deep into her mouth until his cock pressed against the soft flesh at the back of her throat.

"Fuck, baby, if you can you talk with your mouth full, I'll try to listen, but I can't promise." Despite the mind-blowing sensations rippling from his groin, he grabbed hold of her leg and found an ankle. As he lifted her onto his chest to straddle his face, he gave a smile. Her buttocks were still rosy from the spanking he'd administered the previous night. Right before he'd taken her sweet, tight ass for the first time.

With her lips and tongue loving his cock, he loved her right back using his mouth, teeth and fingers to pleasure her sex and ass again until the nagging pressure to bury himself inside of her took precedence. He gripped her legs and tried to manoeuvre her into a different position. "Turn round, baby. I want my wife to know what it feels like to be really made love to."

"Oh yeah. And just how do you intend to do that?

"Easy. I'm going to fill you so deep, I'll send you out of your beautiful mind."

She heard the humour in his voice somewhere near her sex, imagined his sensual smile, his expert tongue, and gave up all thoughts of resistance as he lifted her off his body and laid her back against the mattress.

If he needed any spurring on, the heavy scent of her arousal did it. Spreading her legs wide, he studied her glistening sex. "So beautiful, like the petals of a flower. I don't think I will never tire of making love to you."

"That's because we're still on our honeymoon."

He traced his forefinger against her swollen labia, coaxing soft moans of pleasure from her with the lightest touch. Despite the urgent need to the drive himself into her, he held back, lazily licking and blowing hot breath across her nipples to heighten her tension, and his own.

The repeated sound of his whispered name focused his actions on the parts of her body most responsive to his touch until she begged him to stop, her body quivering like a bow, her scent coating his skin. Gently, he brushed her hair back from her face as she leant forward to kiss him. He allowed her to explore his mouth, combining the taste of their juices, then covered her body with his, enjoying the way she fitted against him in all the right places, like an ancient puzzle. Without moving from her lips, he pressed his heavy cock against her slick, wet sex.

"Oh yes. Fuck me, Master. Make me come on your cock," she whispered into his mouth as her body trembled with need.

She didn't need to ask twice. With one expert movement, he entered her inch by slow, delicious inch until his length reared high against her cervix. His size and width, the savage beauty of his rigid flesh, still had the power to surprise her. It forced the breath from her lungs and brought tears to her eyes. Impaled on his body, feeling his heart beat through hers, nothing could spoil the deep bond she shared with him. The feeling of total oneness was her daily fix. Then he started to move, sliding across her inner nerve-endings so sweetly she couldn't hold back if she wanted to.

Carver increased the pace as her hips rocked in a contra-rhythm to his own. Each time he surged inside of her, she felt like heaven. He held back for as long as he could, wanting the moment to last forever, until his balls felt fit to burst. With one final thrust, he lost himself to a mind-blanking orgasm which left his limbs trembling and his lungs heaving.

"I guess we'd better rejoin our guests, Mr. Heath?" she murmured, several moments later.

"I guess we had, Mrs. Heath." He brushed the knuckles of his hand across her cheek and watched the first rays of morning sunlight glint off her platinum wedding ring as he wrapped her in a tight embrace and pulled her back into a kiss, loving the feel of her naked skin on his.

"Do you think they heard us?" she murmured.

"What if they did? We only got married yesterday. As newly-weds, we're supposed to be all over each other all the time."

She looked up at his face, her eyes bright with love and emotion. "Thanks for flying Mum and Dad, and my brothers over for the wedding, Carver."

"It was my pleasure. Besides Jo and Tom and the boys were going to be here. I thought it was a perfect opportunity for everyone to get to know each other."

"And thanks for asking Dad for his permission to marry me. He's old-fashioned about those sort of things."

"Anything for you, baby.

"And did I thank you for investing in my brothers' company? And for paying off Megan so that I could marry you?"

"You did, but if you want to thank me in other ways I'll be happy to suggest a few of my favourite fantasies we can try out later."

"Mr. Heath, you are insatiable."

"Insatiable for my wife. baby. And this time I'm never going to let you go. Did I forget to tell you how much I love you?"

"I think you did, but there's one thing you can make it up to me."

"How's that?"

"Actions speak louder than words, baby." She made a grab for the spanking paddle and lightly swatted his perfect ass cheeks.

Keen to divert her to less strenuous activities, Carver picked her up and carried her into the shower room. He turned on the hot water before reaching for the shampoo.

Placing the last of the presents around the Christmas tree, Gail stood up to admire her handiwork. Carver entered the lounge and stood behind her.

"I've just received a text from John. He and Helen are flying out to stay with us over the New Year."

She nestled back into his arms. "That's great. It will be nice to see them both again." She swivelled round to face him. "Is it true what Dad said about you rejecting a knighthood from the Queen for services to business?" Her hair was swept off her neck and secured with the amethyst and silver comb Carver had given her in San Francisco.

"Why? Did you fancy yourself as Lady Carver Heath?"

Gail giggled. "Is it true?"

"Yes. I rejected the knighthood to ensure that Megan didn't get her hands on Synchrocity."

"How come?"

"I guess Megan heard that I was being considered for a knighthood and decided to cash in on it. That's why she demanded Synchrocity as part of her divorce settlement."

"But the newspapers said she didn't get it."

"That's right. She thought if she could take Synchrocity from me, the powers that be would presume I'd sold out and I would automatically be rejected for a knighthood. She didn't believe that I would reject it myself."

Gail was awed. "You did that to stop her from getting her hands on Synchrocity?"

Carver nodded. "I told you before. I always get what I want in the long run. It's just a question of finding out what the other person really wants. With you, I knew you loved me when you agreed to extend our weekend agreement." His ice-blue eyes lit up with mirth at her indignation.

"Then you knew before I did, Mr. Heath, because I almost walked out on you then, twice."

"But you didn't, so stop arguing with me, Mrs. Gail Alison Louise Heath, and let's enjoy our first family Christmas together."

###

About the author

Thank you for reading this book. "Lessons in Love" is actually a sequel to the very first book I ever wrote - "Ferry Ride to Love" - which I still have to publish. Soon, I promise.

I started writing seriously when my husband and I moved to the South West of France in 2005. We bought our "rural escape from the rat-race" - a traditional Gascogne farmhouse - in 2000 but it wasn't until visiting the region on holiday over the following five years, and falling in love with the countryside and our French neighbours, that we decided to move here permanently.

In a complete career change, I started designing and selling dichroic glass jewellery, mainly at the local craft fairs and weekly French markets in the region, and was fortunate to meet an eclectic range of interesting people. To while away the time between customers, I kept an A4 notebook at hand to scribble down concepts for my stories which I set in some of my favourite exotic locations around the world. Especially those I had the chance to visit during my career pre-France.

The fact that I was dreaming up erotic romance novels while working on a market stall amused my French and English clients no end, and I had the great fortune to receive support and encouragement from a couple of published authors, to whom I am eternally grateful.

Since my first attempt to get published, I have written several other romances which I intend to publish soon.

Cabin Fever by Annette Hawkins - Claudie has been in lust with her sexy boss from the moment she started working as a reporter at his San Francisco-based sports newspaper. But does he notice her? No. Worse still, Doug refuses to take her seriously. When Claudie uncovers an explosive story-line about match-fixing and drug-taking within National Soccer League, Doug is forced to work with her to protect the story and her safety. Holed up in a holiday cabin in the woods, the fireworks between them really take off. Contains graphic language and sizzling sex scenes.

Mr. Hollywood Heart Throb by Annette Hawkins - Todd is an award-winning Hollywood film producer. Laure is a location scout used to working on her own. So when Todd turns up in a remote village in the South of France to determine whether her first choice of location is suitable for his latest film, a World War 2 epic, temperaments clash. Especially as Todd suspects that Laure knows of his personal connections to the citadel village, high in the mountains. To further test their feisty relationship, they are kidnapped on leaving the village and are forced to trust each other in order to escape. Contains descriptions of spicy sex scenes.

Ferry Ride to Love by Annette Hawkins - When Lianne is posted to Hong Kong with Zeitlinger's Bank, everything is one big culture shock. Hong Kong is vibrant and exciting, much like André de Cauzabon, a French Armagnac producer, to whom she is assigned to for her first major client project. Trying to help André break into the lucrative Chinese market, she is required to interact with him more than she would like. Especially when he makes it clear that his interest is more on seducing Lianne into his bed than establishing a new marketing channel. Contains descriptions of simmering sexual tension between two consenting adults.

One last thing

Please take a few moments to review my book. Everyone needs constructive feedback to understand how to improve. Thank you
