Mills & Boon Introduces: What Lies Beneath / Soldier, Father, Husband? / The Seven-Day Target. Soraya Lane
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let her gaze drop from his, the compliment flushing her cheeks. “You’re just being nice.”
“No,” Will said, standing directly in front of her and resting his hands on the small waist she accented with the cut of the dress. His fingers gently stroked her skin through the fabric, sending a warm awareness coursing through her veins. Her mouth went dry, her breasts tightening and aching to press against the hard wall of his chest.
Every time he got close to her, every time he touched her, she reacted this way. She just didn’t understand. This couldn’t be something new; this had to be chemistry and hormones at a base level. Something primitive. She couldn’t squelch this reaction to Will even if she tried. And yet she had had an affair with someone else. She couldn’t possibly feel this way and be with another man at the same time.
Will leaned in and pressed against her, and she was immediately pleased that she’d put on these high heels a moment before. The five-inch pumps put them on a level playing field. Mouth to mouth, chest to chest, hard length to soft belly.
“I believe I have my first fan,” she said, her voice breathy and still slightly rough from the accident.
“Indeed.” He leaned in and kissed her, capturing her mouth with unrestrained enthusiasm.
Cynthia met his advance with gusto. Their previous kisses, the way he touched her, had a hesitation like there was a war inside holding him back. Tonight there were no barriers. His tongue invaded her, his hands roaming across her body as though he were exploring new territory. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts against his chest and bringing his erection into direct contact with the sensitive juncture of her thighs.
Will moaned against her lips with the pleasure the pressure brought on. He slowly backed her against the living room wall and cupped one cheek of her ass, pulling her tighter to him. His lips traveled lightly across her jaw, still careful about the surgery she’d had, then moved down to feast on the sensitive curve of her neck. His hand drifted to encircle one of her breasts, his thumb stroking the hardened nipple that protruded through the fabric.
Cynthia gasped, the thrill of pleasure running down her back and exploding at the base of her spine into throbbing desire. She inched one thigh up the outside of his leg, hooking her knee around his hip. He pressed into her, the firm heat striking her sex. She couldn’t contain her cry of pleasure. She’d never experienced a sensation like that before, and her body shuddered from the force of it.
Will continued sucking and biting at her neck, his fingers gently unfastening the chunky black buttons that held her dress on. Before she knew it, the top was undone to the waist and he was sliding his hands inside to caress her breasts through the thin lace of her bra.
Her breath caught in her throat as he left a trail of kisses down her neck to her collarbone and on to the valley between her breasts. He pushed aside the lace and took a hardened peak into his mouth, eliciting a strangled cry from her throat. Her fingers weaved into his hair tugging him closer. Now that she had him back in her arms, she didn’t ever want to let him go.
Will’s hand slid along her exposed thigh, pushing her dress higher as he moved. The tension in Cynthia’s body increased with every inch, her body drawn tight as a drum. All her reservations about being with Will melted away. Nothing mattered but being in his arms right here, right now.
When his hand found the moist heat between her thighs, she thought she might explode with wanting him. His fingers stroked her gently through the silk of her panties, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.
“Will, please,” she whispered.
He pulled away from her breasts long enough to speak. “Please what? Tell me what you want, Cynthia.”
A part of her flinched when he said her name. He’d said it a million times, but somehow saying it now, like this, brought the doubts back to her mind. She didn’t want him calling her that. The concern was immediately wiped away by a tidal wave of pleasure as his finger made direct contact with her most sensitive spot.
“You,” she managed, not quite sure she could form any other words.
Will’s hand withdrew and she was about to revel in getting her way when she heard a soft ringing sound and realized he’d stopped because of the phone. She was about to chuck his stupid cell phone across the room when she realized it was the cordless phone on the table beside them. The caller ID was lit up with the last number in the world she wanted to see. He never called this late. There was no way she could hide the panic plastered over her face in that instant. No way she could pretend she didn’t know who was calling.
Will pulled away, taking a full step back and leaving only her gelatinous legs precariously holding her up. When she looked in his eyes, the desire was gone, replaced only with the same cold indifference he’d had in the early days at the hospital. His jaw was tight, his face reddening slightly with an anger he refused to unleash even if she deserved it.
Instead, he turned and marched out of the room, slamming the apartment door behind him.
Completely deflated, Cynthia slid down the wall, her head cradled in her hands. With the phone still ringing, she picked it up from the cradle and threw it against the wall with a loud crack. The phone broke into several pieces, and that was enough to silence it, but the damage was already done.
Nigel had called again. And apparently Will recognized the number, too.
Six
By the time Will glanced down at his watch, it was after ten. He’d been pounding the pavement trying to figure out what to do. The cool night winds bit at his cheeks and forced his hands deeper into his pants pockets, but it barely registered in his brain as anything more than a nagging annoyance. He deserved the punishment for being that stupid.
He’d almost done it. Almost let himself go too far. Took Alex’s ridiculous advice and set his inhibitions free. And what happened? Her lover called the apartment again.
Will could’ve let that go. Cynthia couldn’t stop him from calling. But he’d hoped in that instant that she wouldn’t recognize the number. That she would have the same blank look in her eye that she got when she met anyone else she should know and didn’t.
But there was no denying the horror painted across her face. Cynthia knew exactly who it was. Knew exactly how poorly timed that bastard’s call had been. His chest had grown so tight in that moment, he almost couldn’t breathe. He had to leave the apartment and get some fresh air before he suffocated.
She didn’t remember her parents or her friends. Will, her fiancé of two years, was a total stranger. She didn’t know if she liked hot dogs, for the love of God, but she remembered him. She’d even looked at Will, a glimmer of hope shining in her bright green eyes. Cynthia was hoping he didn’t know who was on the phone. That he believed it when she said she wanted to put the past, and her lover, behind them. He was right not to trust her. The woman that betrayed him was still in there somewhere.
Spying an empty park bench, Will flopped down and decided to give his aching feet a break from their punishment. The shoes he wore to work weren’t exactly designed for long strolls through the city. Hell, he was still wearing his suit minus the jacket he’d tossed aside. He’d accosted Cynthia the minute he walked in the door and then walked out without a second thought to how cold it was tonight. He hadn’t eaten. Hadn’t even checked his phone as it chimed and rang with repeated requests to contact him.
That plane crash was supposed to be their second chance. Her lover and all their other relationship baggage were supposed to be in the past. Just when he’d finally decided to take this chance seriously, she’d ruined it.
The blinking neon lights of the bar across the street from where he’d stopped beckoned Will to come in. He considered going inside and taking the edge off with some expensive whisky, but he knew drinking wouldn’t help the situation. He was never one to just sit back and drown his sorrows. He always took action. And that was what he needed to do now.
Walking around Manhattan in the middle of