Her Man with Iceberg Eyes Read online

  “How many binoculars?” Kate gasped. How long had they been lost in each other, oblivious to the approaching vessel?

  “They’ll survive the sight.” Matthew held her close to counteract the water’s chop. “They’re plenty far enough away.”

  She peeked over his shoulder. “If they’re even looking.”

  “Yeah, probably not, but we should go inside because I have more than this in mind.” He kissed her again, this time with deliberate intent, and finally drew away. Their boat continued to dance and sway. He held out a hand. Kate shuffled off his lap, stood, and wrapped her fingers around his. They staggered toward the cabin.

  He threw off his jacket, and reached for hers before drawing her down onto one of the padded seats and cupping her face in his hands. “Now,” he murmured, “let’s do that again.”

  And he did. Slowly, gently, teasingly. His lips brushed over hers in taunting caresses, lifting, returning. Kate burned for more, yet wanted the wash of tempting sensation to last and last. No man had ever turned her on so fast or so surely. She’d die now if he stopped. She drew in a quick quivering breath as he trailed his fingers down her neck and undid the top button of her cardigan.

  He nipped and nuzzled, strengthening his kiss as she responded with tiny moans and gasps. The second button slipped free, then more. His tongue stroked along the edge of her sensitised top lip as his fingers glided across her breast. She shuddered with the blissful slippery promises he offered. The confusion and uncertainty slid away. There was only now—and she was alight and alive under his hands.

  She’d never felt so desired, so claimed. Matthew had made it clear he wanted her, would enjoy her, and would provide unlimited enjoyment in return. She had no doubts he’d deliver on his promise.

  Desperate to touch his skin, she curled her fingers around his neck and threaded them into his hair, but it was nowhere near enough. She ran her hands over his hard chest, lower, lower, until her fingers made contact with the waistband of his jeans. He breathed in sharply. But no—if he was making her wait, she’d play the same game. She burrowed up under his sweatshirt, sliding her hands around his back and pulling him close. Hot, smooth, supple. Her fingers kneaded his dense muscles, and she scraped her nails along his spine, pushing and clawing as their lips and tongues danced in ever-increasing passion.

  Kate gasped as Matthew tipped her backward along the seat, folded the fronts of her cardigan aside, and dropped to his knees beside her. She smiled dreamily as he bent to sprinkle small kisses over the tops of her breasts.

  He drew back. “Need that T-shirt off. Up you get.” And he pulled her upright again, slid her out of the cardigan, and began to peel her out of her tee. He smiled when he uncovered her barely decent black and red bra. “This again,” he murmured, no doubt remembering her caught up in her jersey, embarrassed, and on display.

  “All I have with me.”

  “Not complaining in the least,” he said, laying her down again, stroking where he’d kissed her, advancing slowly toward the lacy edge, and finally tucking the cups down.

  Kate drew a deep breath of anticipation as he hovered above one nipple, holding her eyes with his. He laughed in triumph as she finally growled and pushed herself up to him. Then he took her between his teeth, worrying at the beaded peak until she just had to have more. She grabbed his head and pulled him close, her body tingling white-hot with wanting as he sucked and licked and nipped.

  Slowly he released her, and looked down into her eyes again. “You smell like flowers,” he murmured. He lowered his nose to her skin and inhaled, then turned his cheek and smoothed his face down over one breast, into the valley between, and up again until his lips captured her other nipple. He gave it a little nip—and his mobile intruded with a polite trill.

  “No...” she groaned. “Horrible timing. Ignore it.”

  Cursing, he rummaged for it in his discarded jacket, dividing his attention between the caller’s name on the little screen and Kate’s breast.

  “Bob,” he said pleasantly, blowing cool air over her and making her tighten even further.

  She growled, and he smiled. But his attention was slowly diverted. Kate covered herself up, furiously disappointed that he’d desert her for the phone, and trying not to let it show.

  He concluded the call and shot her a wry grin. “To be continued,” he said. “See what he’s left us for lunch. We have to get back to Queenstown in a hurry.”

  Kate parted her lips to object, and he nodded. “Yeah—not fair at all—but there was heavy weather expected through here tonight, and the front’s coming in faster than they calculated. We need to get the plane out well before the storm hits.”

  She gave a shivering sigh. Her body had not switched off after being so skilfully aroused. “You had me half way there.”

  “You had me more than half way there in that boutique,” he said, tugging his sweatshirt down and re-starting the engine. “And just for the record, if you thought I had a wife, why were you turning me on like that?” he called over his shoulder.

  “You started it, grabbing my foot and planting it where I couldn’t wriggle free.”

  “Enjoyed your attempts though.”

  “So I felt.” She rose and pulled her cardigan on again. Then went to stand behind him, pressing her face against him, enjoying his scent in return.

  Matthew reached an arm back and pulled her closer. “I had no idea if you’d give in and play.”

  Kate set her hands on his waistband, pushed up under his sweatshirt again, and linked her fingers over his taut belly. “I could hardly slap you away in front of the boutique lady,” she said. “And by then, I wasn’t certain about things anyway. Hamish threw a comment out last night that made me wonder. ‘Goodnight to Sis,’ I think.”

  She felt him flinch. “Why didn’t you ask, Katie? We wasted the whole night. I was dying for you.”

  “Not the sort of topic you can easily raise without giving the game away,” she suggested.

  “What game?” His tone was sharper than before.

  She wondered why, and whispered right in his ear, “Figure of speech. I wanted you too, but if I’d asked about Lottie being your wife, it would have been a pretty transparent invitation.”

  Was it only her imagination, or did he relax a little?

  Matthew turned his head far enough to nuzzle her hair. “I’d have accepted in a heartbeat. Get the lunch, woman. And do those buttons up or we’ll never get home.”

  Kate grinned, and left her cardigan unsecured and her bra on display as a deliberate tease. She bent to the little fridge and investigated what Bob had provided. Ignoring the very nice bottle of champagne, she removed a beer and a juice, and the big platter of chilled kebabs. Juicy chunks of succulent lobster had been threaded on skewers for easy eating, and a bowl of peppery dipping sauce and slices of crusty buttered baguette accompanied them. She set everything on the built-in table beside Matthew. “Beer or juice if you’re flying?”

  “Precious cargo,” he said, choosing the juice. He glanced sideways, then reached across swiftly and touched the cold bottle to her nipple, rubbing it up and down as she tried to jerk away.

  “That’s going to need warming up now,” he said, keeping one hand on the controls, and bending to fasten his hot mouth on her breast. “And we’ll never bloody get home at this rate,” he mumbled through a mouthful of bra. “Stop tempting me.”

  Matthew stared ahead as he piloted the Water Nymph back across the deep dark waters of Milford Sound. Kate had retrieved her T-shirt, done up her cardigan, and donned her jacket again. She fed him skewers of lobster and slices of baguette, and he tipped his bottle of juice up now and then to wash the crumbs down, but his mind was far away.

  Was she here to spy? To relay information back to her father?

  And if so, why hadn’t she jumped his bones the previous evening? He’d made it more than obvious he was interested in her. If the delicious Ms Pleasance had visited Queenstown as the bait in a honey trap, she should
have made the most of her opportunity. Tried to worm her way further into his life instead of worrying about him being married to Lottie. That sounded too moral for the role he’d cast her in.

  He frowned, barely concentrating on the boat, and much more occupied with Kate. This morning had been pure enjoyment. Taking her shopping was unexpected fun—especially after seeing her in that devastating dress. And most especially after she’d reacted to his boot-lacing game. God, his eager cock had certainly given his interest away, but she’d joined right in with her wriggly toes in those ridiculous socks, and he’d known there’d be more flirtation to follow.

  The flight had been magic. The spectacular scenery had wowed her, and it was great seeing things through someone else’s eyes. Someone else who mattered.

  He breathed out a long, slow sigh. Yes, she mattered. He hadn’t wanted her to matter until he knew more about her. Sy Karlsen had sent an out-of-office reply, indicating he’d gone to Fiji for his daughter’s wedding. There’d be no investigation until he returned.

  So. Kate. Even when he should be worried about flying in ever worsening weather and beating the storm clouds home, Matthew had her front and centre of his mind. Beautiful. Desirable. Willing. And possibly treacherous.

  Already there was a difference in the air. Kate pulled her cosy cap on again, wound the scarf a couple of turns around her neck, and drew her jacket close. The small planes were deserting the airfield like a swarm of insects.

  “Will we be okay?” she asked, eying the darkening sky.

  Matthew sent her a broad grin. “Right as rain, but we need to bustle. The wind’s rising faster than they predicted.”

  He waited impatiently for his turn, drumming his fingers on his thigh, and taking to the air without delay. The little craft bucked and shuddered in the less stable air. Kate caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

  The mountains still sparkled, but far to the south, a bank of threatening cloud advanced. She flinched as she surveyed the vast area of steep uninhabited country below them. What were the chances of finding such a small target if the worst happened?

  The turbulence steadily built. Matthew sent her another slashing smile as he reached across and caressed her knee, but the challenging flying conditions soon diverted his attention from her again.

  Kate tried to allay her concern by reliving their embraces on the boat. He’d wanted her fiercely, and had told her and shown her with passion. He was not Lottie’s husband, after all—she could enjoy him and see where it led. If it spoiled the chance of working with Lottie, so be it; Matthew had totally deflected her attention from the job.

  A huge buzz of anticipation spread through her body, and the present sense of danger only heightened it. She ached to be on the ground and in his arms again, surrounded by the scent of his skin.

  The little plane droned ever on, see-sawing, rising, dropping, its engine note changing as Matthew compensated for the conditions. At last, she heard through the headphones, “Soon be home,” and he dropped the nose a little. Lake Wakatipu crept into sight, and Kate glimpsed the now familiar sight of the old Earnslaw steaming across the ruffled water.

  Relief swamped her as the plane finally touched down with a heavier bounce or two, taxied out of the way, and rolled to a halt.

  “Piece of cake,” he said.

  “Really?”

  “Glad to be home, actually. That’s going to be quite nasty.”

  “What about Lottie? Will she be safe?”

  “She’s with friends. They’ll look after her. I made sure she had her medication with her.”

  They alighted. The wind bit through fabric, and sent icy fingers under cuffs and collars. The temperature had plummeted, and the sun lay buried in a mess of poisonous bruise-coloured clouds. Kate pulled her jacket close and wrapped her arms across her chest.

  The gale whined around the SUV as it sped along the spookily darkening highway. She was pleased once they were inside the house again, and safe.

  Safe? With Matthew? The real danger is just beginning...

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Matthew stripped off his jacket and tossed it over the newel post at the bottom of the stairs. “Hang your party dress up first,” he suggested, handing Kate the bag he’d carried in from the SUV.

  He strode up the hallway toward the big sitting room, and she turned for her bedroom. A hiss and flare greeted her as she arrived back at the double doors. He squatted in front of the wide stone fireplace, absorbed in lighting the kindling under a pile of logs.

  Feeling more certain of her ground now, she said, “I thought you didn’t like this room?”

  One corner of his mouth kicked up. “Real fireplace, Katie. Big deep rug. Thick curtains for privacy.” He rose and crossed to the huge window to draw them, shutting out the view of tossing tussock and the fading mist-shrouded mountains. The room became surprisingly dark. As he returned, he snapped on a pair of lamps at either end of the long bookcase. A golden glow reflected off the walls. “Just imagine what we could do in here. It might become my very favourite room in the house.”

  “The sitting room?” She’d been expecting the privacy of his bedroom.

  “It’s the only real fireplace. The rest is central heating.” He sent her a hard hot glance. “I’ve pictured you spread out in the firelight here for the last couple of days. Your dynamite legs...” He’d moved close enough now to cup her breasts. “These beautiful things. And all that hair tumbling free...”

  Kate’s body buzzed with anticipation. “But what about Lottie?”

  “She might stay over if the weather gets much worse. I’ll phone and see what’s happening.”

  He reached for his mobile and pulled Kate close, nudging a hipbone into the notch of her thighs and chafing slowly against her. God, he felt good there! Kate snuggled nearer. He kissed the side of her face as he keyed in the number. His lips moved to hers, and he held the phone so close she heard the signal, and then Lottie’s voice. “Ya?”

  They regretfully, moistly, murmuringly parted.

  “Matty, are you kissink someone?” Lottie demanded.

  “I’m kissink Katie,” he chuckled, releasing her. Kate smiled and wandered across to the fireplace, crouching down to watch the small lively flames. She took no real notice of his conversation, her imagination now occupied with the very near future. He was not Lottie’s husband. She would not be stealing. The intensely desirable had become astoundingly possible.

  Maybe she could return to Queenstown after all? A lover to Matthew and companion for Lottie. Or might that combination prove too difficult?

  He laid down the phone. A predatory gleam lit his eyes. “No Lottie to spoil things for us. It’s already snowing there—they’ve decided to camp in the lodge.”

  “She’ll be all right?”

  “She’ll be fine. But not as fine as us.” He drew Kate up to stand beside him again. “We’ll start in the spa,” he murmured, smoothing her hair aside so he could nip her earlobe. “And by then, those logs should be as hot as we are.”

  She was already on fire. He’d unsettled her from the moment she’d met him. Attracted her. Confused her. Enraged her.

  Matthew challenged her in the most basic way, and everything female in her sparked and crackled when he was near. Now he ran his fingers through her hair, down her back, and into the curve of her waist. They walked step for step through the huge house as far as her bedroom door. “There’s something I need a few minutes for,” he said, lips quirking as he turned away.

  What was he thinking? Kate dreamily removed everything except her underwear, deciding she’d give him the fun of removing that. Then, on impulse, she slipped out of her French knickers and pulled on the rose-printed thong. He’d said he could picture her in it; she’d enjoy providing the reality.

  The warm air swirled around the steamy spa room as she closed the door behind her. A dozen fat candles flickered in the half-dark, exotically fragrant. Matthew had stripped, and now wore a white knee length towelling robe.
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  “You’ve been planning this,” she exclaimed, glancing across to the romantic candles reflecting in the mirror.

  “Thought I’d better not inflict my tattoo on you in too bright a light.”

  “Aahhh... your tattoo,” Kate murmured, stroking the slice of brown chest exposed by the robe. She attempted to push it open, and he caught her hands in his.

  “That’s a treat you’re going to have to earn.”

  She made a little moue, and tipped her head back enquiringly.

  “We’ll have this off for starters.” He reached around and unhooked her bra, pulling it out from between their bodies.

  Kate managed to plant both hands on his chest. She spread her fingers, sensuously massaging his firm flesh. God, he was beautiful. Hot and hard and utterly male. She wanted him now. Wanted him against her, inside her, dominating her. Wanted him fiercely and desperately.

  Matthew drew a deep breath, then cupped her face in both hands and pulled her close, claiming her parted lips with possessive intent. She closed her eyes and their tongues meshed like magic, finding and fitting... sliding and slipping. He smoothed his fingers over her shoulders, down her spine, and yanked her in against his hips. Through the bulky robe, he felt huge.

  They stayed glued together, groaning and gasping and kissing in a greedy frenzy until the need for air took precedence, and they broke apart, panting.

  “You have no idea...no idea...” His chest rose and fell, and he gazed down into her eyes before coaxing her face onto his shoulder and resting his cheek on her hair. His arms moved restlessly, pulling her closer and closer until their bodies pressed together from chest to knee.

  “Maybe I do,” she protested, nipping at his neck. His pulse hammered under her lips. “Maybe I need you every bit as much.” She tried to loosen his robe, wanting to touch, wanting to see.

  He released her and sank down onto the edge of the big spa pool. The robe fell open, but the flickering candles cast her wavering shadow over him. Still no proper view of his magnificent body.