clothing, following up by tossing a blanket at her.
‘Where are you going?’ Riley attempted to focus, but she was whiplashed from Jack making love to her then completely removing himself from her reach. She’d needed his presence, to feel his body next to hers. Her first inclination after the shattering climax was to reciprocate as best she could. Limited knowledge but unfathomable desire. The latter had to count for something.
‘I’m taking a walk. Alone.’
She was confused. ‘Jack, come back to bed.’
‘I told you earlier not to tempt me, Riley. But what’s done is done. At least you can’t say you were alone on your wedding night.’ His voice was flat, void of emotion. ‘And there’s no way I could have impregnated you.’
Riley flinched from the verbal slap. She knew he was right. She’d flatly told him she wouldn’t have children with someone who bartered flesh. Now her words came back to haunt her, and she didn’t like the portrait it painted. It probably appeared to her husband that she wasn’t above using a man to satisfy her own longings then not reciprocating. But dammit, he’d left the bed. How was she to do anything with him standing fully clothed, upright, and six feet from her?
He didn’t give her the chance to explain how she felt. He turned and walked out of their bedroom, without looking back, leaving her feeling bereft and incompetent.
Riley slammed back against the pillows and wept.
Jack was furious with himself for not being able to stay. How could he, who had never become seriously involved with any woman, have allowed himself to be led by the nose by a slip of a girl like Riley? She was inexperienced, which should have deterred him from the beginning but only served to fuel his desire for her. She was a firecracker when talking yet a gentle soul when in his arms. A complete contradiction of everything he’d supposed she’d be when he proposed marriage.
What did you expect?
He answered his latent conscience immediately. He’d expected Riley to be young enough that he could get her to do his bidding, be his pawn in a chess game with Patrick Fitzgerald. He hadn’t expected her to like the infernal man, and Jack hadn’t expected himself to be as attracted to Riley as he was. How could he possibly have thought of using her like that in the first place?
And now? After he’d come to know her better, admire her feistiness and intelligence, after she’d managed to get under his skin and drag him from ruthless to romantic?
Jack hardly recognised himself. He’d never be able to outwit Patrick if his mind was constantly concerned with Riley. Sure, he’d wanted her to be a Fitzgerald, but now...all he wanted was for her to be safe. Once everyone knew her DNA was being tested and that she was potentially Amelia’s granddaughter, she’d never be truly safe as long as whoever wanted her dead hadn’t changed their mind.
And Jack would never be the same after making love to her. If she was as pliable and eager to please him when all the attention was focused on her, how much greater would his pleasure be if he allowed Riley to make love to him? He’d be unable to maintain any semblance of a marriage of convenience. He’d want her for keeps, children or no children, and he was dangerously close to the edge already.
He walked downstairs and onto the front terrace, pulled out his cigarettes and thought the hell with it when lighting his third for the day. He drew his cell phone from his pants pocket and glanced at the time. Technically, this was his first cigarette of a new day.
A waning moon, falling on the hillside to his left, cast shadows of the odd eucalyptus tree or flowering bush. Bare vines that would bear fruit in a few months, dotted the landscape. Cadigal Valley had been his home for several years, yet he’d never truly felt he belonged until Riley entered the picture. With her, even though they were just getting to know one another, Jack felt the pieces of his
‘Where are you going?’ Riley attempted to focus, but she was whiplashed from Jack making love to her then completely removing himself from her reach. She’d needed his presence, to feel his body next to hers. Her first inclination after the shattering climax was to reciprocate as best she could. Limited knowledge but unfathomable desire. The latter had to count for something.
‘I’m taking a walk. Alone.’
She was confused. ‘Jack, come back to bed.’
‘I told you earlier not to tempt me, Riley. But what’s done is done. At least you can’t say you were alone on your wedding night.’ His voice was flat, void of emotion. ‘And there’s no way I could have impregnated you.’
Riley flinched from the verbal slap. She knew he was right. She’d flatly told him she wouldn’t have children with someone who bartered flesh. Now her words came back to haunt her, and she didn’t like the portrait it painted. It probably appeared to her husband that she wasn’t above using a man to satisfy her own longings then not reciprocating. But dammit, he’d left the bed. How was she to do anything with him standing fully clothed, upright, and six feet from her?
He didn’t give her the chance to explain how she felt. He turned and walked out of their bedroom, without looking back, leaving her feeling bereft and incompetent.
Riley slammed back against the pillows and wept.
Jack was furious with himself for not being able to stay. How could he, who had never become seriously involved with any woman, have allowed himself to be led by the nose by a slip of a girl like Riley? She was inexperienced, which should have deterred him from the beginning but only served to fuel his desire for her. She was a firecracker when talking yet a gentle soul when in his arms. A complete contradiction of everything he’d supposed she’d be when he proposed marriage.
What did you expect?
He answered his latent conscience immediately. He’d expected Riley to be young enough that he could get her to do his bidding, be his pawn in a chess game with Patrick Fitzgerald. He hadn’t expected her to like the infernal man, and Jack hadn’t expected himself to be as attracted to Riley as he was. How could he possibly have thought of using her like that in the first place?
And now? After he’d come to know her better, admire her feistiness and intelligence, after she’d managed to get under his skin and drag him from ruthless to romantic?
Jack hardly recognised himself. He’d never be able to outwit Patrick if his mind was constantly concerned with Riley. Sure, he’d wanted her to be a Fitzgerald, but now...all he wanted was for her to be safe. Once everyone knew her DNA was being tested and that she was potentially Amelia’s granddaughter, she’d never be truly safe as long as whoever wanted her dead hadn’t changed their mind.
And Jack would never be the same after making love to her. If she was as pliable and eager to please him when all the attention was focused on her, how much greater would his pleasure be if he allowed Riley to make love to him? He’d be unable to maintain any semblance of a marriage of convenience. He’d want her for keeps, children or no children, and he was dangerously close to the edge already.
He walked downstairs and onto the front terrace, pulled out his cigarettes and thought the hell with it when lighting his third for the day. He drew his cell phone from his pants pocket and glanced at the time. Technically, this was his first cigarette of a new day.
A waning moon, falling on the hillside to his left, cast shadows of the odd eucalyptus tree or flowering bush. Bare vines that would bear fruit in a few months, dotted the landscape. Cadigal Valley had been his home for several years, yet he’d never truly felt he belonged until Riley entered the picture. With her, even though they were just getting to know one another, Jack felt the pieces of his
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