Read Online Mistress: Hired for the Billionaire's Pleasure by India Grey - Free Book Online
Authors: India Grey
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imprisoning it millimetres from her own as her mouth captured his again, and he felt it open in a cry of high, primeval release.
She stiffened, and for a second was completely still, before he felt her shudder with ecstasy in his arms. It was too much. Helplessly he plunged headlong into blissful release, and as he did so the relentless, smothering blackness in his head was lit up with dazzling explosions of red and green and gold.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘I CAN see angels.’
Rachel lay beside him, gazing upwards, and her voice was soft and drowsy and sated.
‘Does that mean I’ve died and gone to heaven?’
Orlando stirred, rolling over to face her and propping himself up on one elbow. He could hear the smile in her words and wished he could look into her face. He wanted to kiss the corners of that smile and make it fade into something more intense and abstract as his lips moved further down her body. He wanted to see if that astonishing passion of hers lit up her eyes, made her skin glow…
But he couldn’t.
‘I doubt it, if I’m here too,’ he said harshly. There was no peace and light in the place he inhabited.
‘Don’t say that,’ she whispered softly. ‘You saved me today. For that, if nothing else, you’ve earned your place in heaven.’
She pulled him down beside her again, sweeping her arm upwards in a wide arc, and then he understood. Remembered. He’d forgotten the carved plasterwork on the ceiling above them, and how at night the charcoal-grey-painted background seemed to recede into the darkness, making the angels depicted there come alive. He’d loved it as a child. But he’d stopped looking at it long before he’d stopped being able to see it.
‘Look,’ she murmured. ‘They’re so beautiful. I can’t imagine that heaven could be any better than this, can you?’
Orlando sighed. Of course he saw nothing. The colours that had filled his head as he’d exploded inside her had faded, leaving a deeper darkness—like an empty winter sky after the fireworks were all finished.
‘I can’t imagine heaven exists at all,’ he said with quiet brutality. There was no such thing as eternal bliss. All joy was fleeting, and came at a price. He had allowed himself this wonderful, unexpected release. But now it was over, and it was time to retreat to the safety of his walls of ice and steel.
In the velvet darkness he felt her hand against his face and tensed against the tenderness in her touch.
‘Oh, Orlando, were you always so cynical?’
‘No.’
‘What happened? Was it Felix?’
He caught her hand, enclosing it in his, feeling the bones and sinews beneath the soft skin—feeling both her fragility and her incredible, surprising strength.
‘Maybe.’ The injustice that his brother’s life—a useful, courageous life—had been extinguished while he was left to struggle on endlessly in a worthless one. That had made him cynical. ‘There were other things too.’
‘Tell me,’ she breathed.
He dropped a kiss into her palm, curling her long fingers around it as if he were saying goodbye.
‘No.’ He got up in one lithe movement and reached for his clothes. ‘There’s nothing to tell. I lost something, that’s all. Something I took for granted. And now I miss it. All the bloody time.’
Especially now. Especially right this moment, when I would give anything to be able to see you …
He turned away and, suddenly aware of how cold it was, reached up onto the high marble mantelpiece to feel for a box of matches. The kindling in the fireplace caught straight away and he straightened up, watching the small, brave flicker of flame take hold of the darkness.
Behind him, Rachel sat up slowly, tucking her knees up in front of her and resting her chin on them. ‘You told me that it’s OK to be afraid—that it’s how you deal with it that counts.’
Orlando said nothing.
‘I think the same could be said of loss. You can’t change it. But you can deal with it.’
He gave a low,
She stiffened, and for a second was completely still, before he felt her shudder with ecstasy in his arms. It was too much. Helplessly he plunged headlong into blissful release, and as he did so the relentless, smothering blackness in his head was lit up with dazzling explosions of red and green and gold.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘I CAN see angels.’
Rachel lay beside him, gazing upwards, and her voice was soft and drowsy and sated.
‘Does that mean I’ve died and gone to heaven?’
Orlando stirred, rolling over to face her and propping himself up on one elbow. He could hear the smile in her words and wished he could look into her face. He wanted to kiss the corners of that smile and make it fade into something more intense and abstract as his lips moved further down her body. He wanted to see if that astonishing passion of hers lit up her eyes, made her skin glow…
But he couldn’t.
‘I doubt it, if I’m here too,’ he said harshly. There was no peace and light in the place he inhabited.
‘Don’t say that,’ she whispered softly. ‘You saved me today. For that, if nothing else, you’ve earned your place in heaven.’
She pulled him down beside her again, sweeping her arm upwards in a wide arc, and then he understood. Remembered. He’d forgotten the carved plasterwork on the ceiling above them, and how at night the charcoal-grey-painted background seemed to recede into the darkness, making the angels depicted there come alive. He’d loved it as a child. But he’d stopped looking at it long before he’d stopped being able to see it.
‘Look,’ she murmured. ‘They’re so beautiful. I can’t imagine that heaven could be any better than this, can you?’
Orlando sighed. Of course he saw nothing. The colours that had filled his head as he’d exploded inside her had faded, leaving a deeper darkness—like an empty winter sky after the fireworks were all finished.
‘I can’t imagine heaven exists at all,’ he said with quiet brutality. There was no such thing as eternal bliss. All joy was fleeting, and came at a price. He had allowed himself this wonderful, unexpected release. But now it was over, and it was time to retreat to the safety of his walls of ice and steel.
In the velvet darkness he felt her hand against his face and tensed against the tenderness in her touch.
‘Oh, Orlando, were you always so cynical?’
‘No.’
‘What happened? Was it Felix?’
He caught her hand, enclosing it in his, feeling the bones and sinews beneath the soft skin—feeling both her fragility and her incredible, surprising strength.
‘Maybe.’ The injustice that his brother’s life—a useful, courageous life—had been extinguished while he was left to struggle on endlessly in a worthless one. That had made him cynical. ‘There were other things too.’
‘Tell me,’ she breathed.
He dropped a kiss into her palm, curling her long fingers around it as if he were saying goodbye.
‘No.’ He got up in one lithe movement and reached for his clothes. ‘There’s nothing to tell. I lost something, that’s all. Something I took for granted. And now I miss it. All the bloody time.’
Especially now. Especially right this moment, when I would give anything to be able to see you …
He turned away and, suddenly aware of how cold it was, reached up onto the high marble mantelpiece to feel for a box of matches. The kindling in the fireplace caught straight away and he straightened up, watching the small, brave flicker of flame take hold of the darkness.
Behind him, Rachel sat up slowly, tucking her knees up in front of her and resting her chin on them. ‘You told me that it’s OK to be afraid—that it’s how you deal with it that counts.’
Orlando said nothing.
‘I think the same could be said of loss. You can’t change it. But you can deal with it.’
He gave a low,
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