Unmasked (Revealed #1) Page 5

  Stepping in, I relaxed my tense shoulders and looked around, once again appreciating just how gorgeous these fittings were. With the beautifully traditional features in the other rooms, and this stylish kitchen, it was almost my dream house, really. Not that I was dreaming about living here, almost the opposite, in fact – I’d spent the best part of the day imagining escaping so I could spend Christmas with my family. Although if I managed to sleep tonight and not dream about the owner, it would be a miracle, because he was a whole other story that I couldn’t seem to get out of my head for more than five minutes at a time.

  Sighing, I began my search for food when a note on the counter caught my eye. Walking over, I looked closer at the piece of A4 paper, which had a hastily drawn arrow on the top pointing towards the stove top and what appeared to be the chicken casserole I had made yesterday. Judging by the steam coming from the top, it had recently been re-heated. Grinning broadly and almost laughing out loud to myself, I read the note, written in large, edgy capital letters: ‘You made it, you may as well get to enjoy it too.’ I was compelled to trace his handwriting, and I reached out a hand using the tip of my finger to follow his words letter by letter.

  Snapping out of my trance I dropped my hand and looked at the casserole again with a happy shrug. It certainly saved me cooking, which could only be a good thing. I grabbed a bowl and ladled some out before smiling appreciatively. It smelt pretty great, if I did say so myself. Carrying the bowl back to my room I decided on dinner in bed with a book, and an early night. Maybe when I woke up tomorrow the snow would be gone. That was what I was pinning my hopes on, anyway.

  FIVE

  Sean

  When my security team had insisted on cameras in my house I’d been highly unimpressed by the idea, thinking it a complete invasion of privacy, but now, finally, they were actually coming to some use. Only I could access the footage, and they only covered the downstairs areas (one of my stipulations so I could retain just a sliver of my much valued privacy), but it meant I had caught the brief interaction between Allie and myself in the kitchen yesterday morning on film. Adjusting myself in my office chair I stretched out my long legs and scrolled back through the footage to find the start of the section again before pressing play.

  I must have replayed this snippet of film fifty times now. In fact, I practically had it memorised: the sleepy mussed state of her hair when she entered the room, the way she seemed to tense and flush when she first saw me, the slight widening of her eyes as I stepped close to her body, and finally, the thrust of her breasts as she gasped when I accidentally touched her stomach.

  Clenching my teeth as I watched the screen, I could remember exactly how soft her skin had been and my fingers tingled at the memory, desperate to acquaint themselves with her body properly. She wasn’t the only one who had been affected by that moment – I’d felt it too, the chemistry between us that was so strong it was almost palpable. Predictably it had also given me an instant erection, which was why I’d left the room so hastily. That, and my reluctance to start anything with her. With my workload about to get crazily busy in the next few months, it was hardly perfect timing – and besides, I seemed to feel things for her that would surely only lead to trouble in the long run.

  Groaning, I pushed back in my chair and adjusted my groin. I was rock hard. Again. I had been on and off since she’d arrived in my life two days ago. It was the most intense connection I’d ever felt with a woman, and we’d barely even interacted. In fact, I’d deliberately been quick at breakfast today to avoid another run-in like yesterday. From the electricity I’d felt between us then, I’d place money on the fact that we would be dynamite in bed. Best not to dwell on that thought for too long though; I’d had enough issues with my cock running wild since she’d arrived.

  Pursing my lips, I spat out a harsh, indecisive sigh. If the connection I’d felt was an indicator of how good it could be between us, then perhaps I should pursue it? Pursue her. Allie.

  It was a slightly strange name, and probably short for something, but what? Alison? Alexandra? Alana? Thinking about her name seemed to make it all the more real and I gave up pursing my lips to chew on the bottom one instead as I wondered if I could really do this. Do her. Or perhaps even something more.

  It had been years since the accident that had put me off relationships … thinking about it, it would be the thirteenth anniversary this coming summer. Thirteen years. Fuck. Closing my eyes I shook my head to try and clear the painful images flooding my brain.

  Maybe it was time to try and get back in the game. I exhaled a long breath and rubbed my chin thoughtfully as I continued to watch the screen. The part I couldn’t understand was her reaction after I’d left. I was almost sure Allie felt the same magnetic attraction as I did, but once I’d left the kitchen she’d practically folded over the counter in apparent relief. Had I completely misread the chemistry between us? Did she actually loathe every minute of being here? Perhaps she was scared of me?

  Leaning forwards, I moved the cursor so I could open up a different set of footage. This time it was of the kitchen last night, when Allie had found the casserole and note that I’d left for her. Now two of my three screens were filled with images of her and I felt a smile tug at the corners of my lips. She was so pretty. And her hair – I was obsessed with her hair. It was so long it almost reached her arse, and the colour was a perfect sun-lightened gold. As perverted as it sounded, my dreams last night had mostly centred on me wrapping the soft strands around my fist as I bent her over any available surface and took her from behind.

  On the screen, I watched in amusement as Allie cautiously entered the kitchen, her posture tense and eyes darting around as she looked for something – presumably me – before she relaxed and strolled in. From this camera angle I could see her face perfectly as she saw and approached the dish of food. I then watched in fascination as she traced my handwriting, her finger following every letter almost reverently.

  Swallowing hard, I blinked, trying not to read too much into her action. The smile that lit her face was my favourite part, and right on cue, there it was, her lips curling at the edges and eyes sparkling. Wanting to save that image for posterity I leant forward and tapped the screen shot button before continuing to watch. Her pretty face transformed into something utterly beautiful. She was beautiful. We had hardly spent any time together, but I hadn’t seen her smile often, and I felt almost upset that I had been denied that. She probably hadn’t smiled because I’d been such a miserable bastard around her.

  Looking at my desk and the monitors filled with her face I suddenly flushed. God, I was basically a stalker. A touch of guilt entered my brain before I quickly pushed it aside. She was in my house, and the security footage was mine, so technically I was allowed to look at it. That’s what I’d keep telling myself, anyway.

  Suddenly picking up movement on the screen to my left, my eyes widened as I turned to the real-time feed and saw the woman currently residing in my thoughts make her way towards the stairs. Shit. I needed more time to think about this. I wasn’t ready to see her again, but seeing as she had two mugs in her hands – two – she was either very thirsty, or she was on her way to my office with a drink for me. Fuck.

  Briefly forgetting about my tangled emotions I quickly flew into action, closing down programs and hastily switching to less incriminating images on my screens, because if she saw this stuff, Allie would no doubt freak out and do something ridiculously dangerous again, like try to walk home – blizzard be damned.

  SIX

  Allie

  Cowardice was never something I would attribute to myself, so after getting sick of hiding away in my room I gave up that afternoon and headed back downstairs to stretch my legs and get a cup of tea. As much as I liked – loved – coffee, I usually tried to limit myself to drinking it only in the mornings, as it had a tendency to give me the jitters if I drank it past lunch. The house had been silent as a tomb all day, so I could only assume that Mr Conversational had al
so been hiding somewhere. Perhaps he worked from home, or had a home cinema hidden away that he was using to kill some time. I had no idea, but he was certainly never around in the main rooms when I was.

  As reluctant as I was about interacting with him again, I had used my hours of solitude to come to the conclusion that it might be wise to try and build some bridges with him if I was going to be here a few days, so as well as my tea I made him a coffee – he didn’t strike me as a tea man – and then set off in search of him.

  It took a while because this house really was massive, but eventually on the third floor I saw a light around the crack of a door and made my way towards it. Once I got closer I saw that the door wasn’t entirely shut, so with a small knock of my elbow to alert him of my presence, I bravely pushed the door open and found myself entering a home office. Wow, there were more computer monitors, printers, and projector screens in here than in my local electrical store. This space appeared to be just as tricked out with gadgets as his kitchen, if not more so. Seems like my assumptions about him being a home worker were correct.

  The room appeared to be far fuller than the rest of the house, with some pictures, certificates, and other personal items on some shelves to my right, but I ignored them, my eyes instead being instantly drawn to the house owner again. As his handsomeness filtered through my senses it hit me full in the face again, and briefly struck me speechless. God, his looks really hadn’t dulled in the time since I’d last seen him.

  While squirreled away in my room earlier, I’d actually persuaded myself that I’d exaggerated his appeal, but boy, how very wrong I’d been. I’d never responded to a man like this before and as my traitorous body buzzed with energy I grumpily decided that it should be illegal for any guy to be this good looking. He was wrapped up in a large, beige jumper today, but no item of clothing could hide his impressive build, no matter how bulky the wool.

  Getting a grip on myself, I drew in a shaky breath and smiled politely, stepping forward as I held the mug up. ‘I thought you might like a coffee.’

  Briefly narrowing his eyes and assessing me cautiously, the man finally nodded his thanks and reached out to take it. As he clasped the beverage, our fingers briefly touched, causing the hairs on my arm to stand up as that same strange electricity shot between us, just like it had when he’d touched my stomach yesterday. A gasp disturbed the silence, but I was fairly sure it came from him, which was a very interesting development. I was still half-holding the bloody coffee mug, but I seemed frozen to the spot and unable to move away as he suddenly began to run his fingers over my hand.

  Oh God. He was caressing me – on purpose, this time – and I was doing nothing whatsoever to stop him. Stroking his thumb over my knuckles, he smiled, an expression which was almost as breathtaking as the tingling sparks shooting over my skin.

  ‘You have very soft hands for a cleaner.’ His bizarre observation brought me back to the present as I laughed softly and shook my head.

  ‘I’m not a cleaner, I’m a schoolteacher. Sarah’s my best friend, she runs the cleaning business and needed someone to cover this shift. Seeing as I was on school holidays I got lumbered with it.’

  Perhaps it was my phrasing, or the fact that I was getting too chatty, but the god – uh, I mean man – stared at me intently for a few more seconds, the smile fading from his lips before he practically snatched the mug from me and turned his attention back to his laptop and the bank of screens on his desk, all traces of friendliness vanished.

  ‘Thanks,’ he murmured sullenly, not a hint of genuine appreciation in his tone. He really was a grumpy bastard, wasn’t he?

  As I trailed towards the door it became obvious why he was wearing the jumper; his office was freezing. A small shiver shook my body, so I pulled mine closer around me and decided to head to my room to read in bed and warm up. It wasn’t exactly like there was anything else to do, was there?

  ‘Allie, stop. Come over here,’ he whispered behind me just as I had reached the door. It was more a statement than a request, and beyond all logical reasoning I found myself turning back into the room and instinctively walking towards him.

  Once I got closer I felt awkward about how easily I had bent to his will, and didn’t quite know what to do with myself, so I leaned my hips on his desk, hugely aware of the way he was watching my every move with those intense blue eyes of his.

  Several silent seconds passed with no actions, and in the absence of conversation I crossed my arms for something to distract me from the charged static that seemed to hang around us. The sexual tension was like treacle – at least that’s how it seemed to me, anyway. God knows what he thought, because apart from a brief stroke of my hand just now, he’d given away nothing since I’d met him except moodiness.

  ‘Do you know who I am?’ he asked quietly, causing me to blush instantly. How embarrassing; I’d spent two nights in his house and hadn’t even bothered to find out his name. But then again, what kind of host was he to allow me to stay and not introduce himself properly? A grouchy, miserable host, that’s what, I thought with a barely supressed snort.

  ‘No, Sarah didn’t mention your name,’ I mumbled, to which he merely nodded thoughtfully at my response. ‘You look vaguely familiar, but I can’t place where from,’ I added, voicing my own earlier thoughts. ‘Have we met before?’

  A frown creased my brows as I considered him again. He definitely looked a fair few years older than me, but perhaps I went to school with him? Maybe he was one of the college guys I’d been pathetically gazing at in the canteen with hormonal longing back in my teenage days of braces and bunches.

  ‘No. We’ve not met before.’ His response was immediate and his tone so brusque it immediately ended the conversation right there. Deep down, I already knew that if we had crossed paths before I would have remembered someone this attractive. I had a feeling that even after just these few days, he wouldn’t be an easy man for me to forget, either.

  After his question I had expected him to share his name, so I was caught completely off-guard when he instead swivelled his chair, took a firm grip on my hips, and guided me sideways so I was leaning back on the desk directly in front of him.

  God Lord, I was practically nestled between his spread thighs. In fact, if he just shifted forwards a few centimetres then my knees would be getting incredibly friendly with his groin.

  A small gasp of shock escaped my lips, partly from his unexpected actions but also from the fire that leapt across my skin where his hands still lightly rested on my hips. Even through my jeans, it felt as if his touch was searing my skin and I instantly found my hands clinging to the edge of the desk until my knuckles ached.

  ‘W … what are you doing?’ I whispered raggedly, my breathing short and sharp from his sudden contact – not to mention, close proximity. I was too shocked to want to know the answer, but also too intrigued to consider moving away.

  In one fluid movement, he stood up and stepped even closer to me then, using one of his thighs to part my knees, he positioned himself right in between my legs, well and truly within my personal space so that our bodies were just millimetres apart.

  Talk about up close and personal.

  I gulped loudly, so loudly that I saw the corner of his mouth tweak in a smug smile, looking positively satisfied with my physical response to him. What a smooth mover. Not to mention arrogant. ‘You were shivering, gorgeous girl, I thought I’d warm you up,’ he murmured, before one of his hands rose and slid into my hair as his lips descended on mine, crushing my mouth as he held me immobile with a gentle grip by my nape.

  Gorgeous girl. His bizarre turn of phrase rang in my head as my lips parted and a lusty moan escaped my throat. Rational thought told me I shouldn’t respond to his kiss; I’d only just met him and I didn’t even know his name, but I simply couldn’t help myself. For whatever reason – be it chemistry, magnetism, or just plain old lust – this man attracted me like no other I’d ever met, and my body’s response was immediate as I joined in h
is kiss and reached up to wrap my arms around his shoulders, where I dug into his jumper and pulled him closer.

  My heated reaction seemed to please him because I heard a growl of approval shortly before the hand on my hip slid around behind me to grasp my bum. His grip was hard, almost firm enough to hurt, but the possessiveness in his touch was actually quite thrilling. In seconds, he had pulled me forward until the heat and heaviness of his growing erection was pressing against my stomach, causing both of us to let out heated moans of pleasure into each other’s mouths.

  This man was an incredible kisser. Actually, forget that, this man was incredible, full stop. Everything about him screamed experience, and after just a few seconds of his touch he had my whole body alight with arousal. I literally couldn’t get enough and arched myself against him, feeling totally alive for the first time in years. He seemed to ignite my body, and my desperate, almost primal response surprised even myself, as I keenly allowed his hands to explore before reciprocating with curious exploratory touches of my own.

  Before I even realised what was happening he had gripped the hem of my jumper and T-shirt and pulled them over my head to expose my lacy bra. ‘Bloody clothes are still damp. For the love of God, woman, stop being stubborn and wear the ones I gave you,’ he muttered hotly before tossing the garment aside. ‘Understand?’ He was aroused, pressed between my legs, and stripping me of my clothing and he actually expected me to converse with him? Really? I only managed a husky, ‘OK,’ which thankfully seemed to satisfy him.

  Letting out a groan, his head dipped to explore one of my nipples through the fabric of my bra, causing me to let out a high keening noise. God, was that me? It sounded more like a distressed piglet, which made me blush with embarrassment and hastily close my lips. I really wasn’t myself around this man – it was like he had consumed the normal me within seconds and left behind a wild shell of my old self. My embarrassment was soon forgotten, when seconds later he used his tongue to skim and lick at my needy flesh through the lace, an act that was so erotic that my head began to swim with lust.