Prognosis Irreconcilable Differences Read online

Jacqueline smiled at the younger woman, who had watched them like a hawk all evening. Good question. She smiled at Nathan while she gave his thigh a firm now what? squeeze.

  He smiled back at her, his hand moving up her bare arm, pushing under the heavy fall of her hair to caress her nape.

  ‘We’ve been talking of buying something here — haven’t we, darling?’ Nathan said, thinking quickly.

  ‘Oh? So you’re selling the country practice, then?’ Vince asked.

  ‘We’re not sure yet. We’d like to keep Jacq’s place as a holiday home. Somewhere to get away from it all.’

  Jacqui smiled at him. His hand at her neck was causing tiny trills of sensation up and down her body. It was utterly distracting. Still, she was amazed at his capacity to think on his feet.

  No wonder he was so good in business.

  It was taking all her might to remember that it was all an illusion and not to let the magic of his fingers suck her into the happily-ever-after picture Nathan was faking.

  ‘Sounds idyllic,’ Abigail murmured.

  ‘Oh, it is,’ Jacqueline said, shooting the other woman her best dreamy expression.

  They were interrupted by the arrival of the most decadently sinful slice of chocolate cake Jacqui had ever seen. Abigail declined her piece, and gave Jacqueline a look that said, you’re not really going to eat that, are you? Jacqui smiled at Nathan, picked up her fork, and tucked in.

  They moved inside for coffee. Nathan was pleased with how the evening had gone. More than pleased. Jacqui had slipped into her role with gusto. She’d smiled, flirted and bantered with him as if they’d never been apart. And the touching! She’d touched him constantly. His arm, his cheek, his thigh. She’d even raised her mouth in silent invitation on a few occasions.

  So what was a man to do?

  He didn’t know if Vince or Abigail were convinced, but he sure as hell was. Between her flirting and the distracting knowledge that she was starkers underneath that dress, he was going quietly mad.

  He ached to get her alone. To kiss her for real. Have her touch him for real. Because — whether she knew it or not — that was exactly where tonight was heading.

  He made himself comfortable on a blizzard-white leather lounge chair as Abigail brought in the coffee and a laden cheese platter. Jacqui joined him, cuddling her body into his. Her breasts were squashed against his arm, her hand lay high on his thigh, and she sighed as she rested her head on his shoulder.

  She crossed her legs and seductively angled the foot of her crossed leg under his closest knee, so she could rub lazy circles on his opposite calf. Nathan almost groaned aloud. The erotic caress was having a predictable effect. He’d spent most of the last few hours in a state of rock-hard readiness.

  Even when the conversation moved on to the boring-as-watching-paint-dry subject of the company’s float, desire still thrummed through his veins. He checked his watch, impatient to be gone. When Jacqueline yawned he seized the opportunity.

  ‘Oh, dear, sorry,’ she apologised.

  ‘Don’t be,’ Vince assured her. ‘No doubt this bloke’s been keeping you up.’

  Nathan chuckled, shifting to stand, disrupting the way her legs had entwined around his but knowing they’d be even more entwined shortly. Hopefully wrapped snugly around his waist. He pulled her up with him by the hand and looked her square in the eye. ‘I think it is time to call it a night.’

  Jacqui almost swooned at the look of blatant lust in Nathan’s eyes, and gripped his hand to steady herself.

  Oh, God. They were going to make love!

  No, no, no. She looked away from the smouldering heat. This was an act — just an act. Yes, she was impossibly turned on — practically blinded by a fog of desire so thick not even a superhero with X-ray vision could see through it.

  But it wasn’t real.

  Okay, the lust was real. But their relationship wasn’t. It was fake. An act. She was just doing what he’d asked of her. Her resolve to keep everything platonic between them behind closed doors still stood.

  She knew there were women out there who could divorce emotion from sex, and she was glad for them. Bravo to them. She’d kill for a bit of that now. But she knew herself too well.

  She couldn’t. Not really. And not with Nathan.

  Nathan didn’t linger over the farewells, and Jacqui felt her panic increase exponentially the further they got from Vince and Abigail’s apartment. They waited for the lift, and she could feel his gaze travelling over her like a caress, as if he’d licked with his tongue straight up her middle from her toes to the tip of her nose.

  The lift arrived. They got in. Nathan punched a button. ‘That went well,’ he said, his voice rough with building desire. He could feel his circulation pulsing through every vein as each footfall took him closer to their destiny tonight.

  ‘Yes,’ she murmured, standing as far away from him as possible, her brain searching for a way out of the sticky web of desire her brilliant acting had spun them in.

  Nathan watched her stare fixedly at the floor as she shrank into the corner. She was withdrawing, struggling for control. He’d seen the flare of panic in her eyes when he’d suggested they leave. But they’d passed the point of no return.

  This was bigger than them. Way bigger.

  They rode down six floors. The lift dinged. He gestured for her to precede him out and they walked to his apartment. Nathan unlocked the door and pushed it open for her. She walked in. He followed.

  The door shut.

  There were a few seconds of silence where Jacqui could hear only their breath in the semi-dark. She barely registered the soft moonlight invading the apartment through the undressed windows over the screaming in her head.

  Run, run, run.

  But the heavy tentacles of desire were turning her bones to liquid, anchoring her to the ground, paralysing her will. She opened her mouth. She didn’t want this. Well, she did. But she shouldn’t.

  It wasn’t rational.

  She dragged in a breath. It was loud in the silence —like the first gasp of someone who’d crossed over briefly only to be sent back for a little longer.

  ‘Goodnight, Nathan.’

  He placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘Jacq.’

  Jacqui shut her eyes against the longing in his voice and the primal pull deep inside. She reached for the wall. ‘Please, Nathan.’

  A beat or two passed before he stepped closer, his chest skimming her back. He lifted a finger and brushed a lock of hair aside, leaving a bare portion of skin.

  ‘You want this,’ he whispered against her neck. ‘We both do.’

  His voice filled her head and her heart, and heat unfurled like a bud flowering beneath the sun. She whimpered. At least it sounded as if it was her. But then she was turning, powerless to resist his pull.

  And his mouth was on hers, and somehow she went from being wrapped in his embrace to having her legs wrapped around his waist. Her bottom was cradled in his palms, the wall was at her back, and they were kissing and kissing like a pair of teenagers three seconds before curfew.

  Except there was nothing adolescent about it. It was deep and frantic, tainted with desperation after three hours of teasing and ten years of denial. Nathan held her against the wall, his strong hands supporting her bottom, kneading it as he pushed his tongue into her mouth, groaning as her tongue joined in.

  He moved, needing to get her horizontal, but she was pulling frantically at his shirt, tearing at the buttons, unbalancing him. He only made it as far as the opposite wall.

  Her hands were at his fly now, and he left her mouth to bite down her neck, his own hands coming up to palm her breasts roughly. She moaned as he held her, pinned with only the thrust of his hips and his hands. He could feel the erectness of her nipples beneath the fabric of her dress.

  ‘Need this off,’ he demanded, before dipping his head and claiming her mouth again.

  He steadied them and moved again, heading in the direction of his bedroom. But her hand had finally fou
nd a way into his pants, and when she palmed him his knees almost buckled and he staggered. Luckily the back of couch was there, and they tumbled awkwardly against it, her breasts squashed to his chest, her hand still firmly grasping his throbbing erection.

  Nathan took advantage of her standing and grabbed fistfuls of the dress, working it upwards, exposing every inch of her naked legs and then finally —fucking finally —her very naked derrière. His hands palmed the surface of her buttocks, refamiliarising themselves with their contours as he pulled her pelvis in close to his and plundered her mouth.

  He gave them a squeeze and she moaned against his lips. Then she returned the favour and he lost his mind, dragging his mouth from hers. ‘Need to see you naked. Bedroom.’

  Jacqui shook her head. It had been ten years. She didn’t want to wait any longer. Not a few minutes. Not even a few seconds. And she certainly didn’t want to give her earlier doubt demons any time to talk her out of it.

  ‘Later,’ she said, plastering another kiss to his mouth before pulling away, turning around, leaning her elbows into the plush leather of the couch and bending forward slightly. She pushed herself into his exposed groin for good measure.

  Nathan swallowed as his erection surged. Her round, naked rump wiggled enticingly, and he clutched her hips, jerking her against him.

  ‘Jacqui—’ He hadn’t meant it to sound so guttural, so base, but he hadn’t pictured their first time in a decade being like this.

  And he’d thought about it a lot in the last few hours.

  He’d pictured it slower. A leisurely exploration. Taking his time, getting to know her again.

  She turned and looked at him over her shoulder. He was staring at her as if she was Aphrodite herself, his thumbs stroking her hips, making her hot, making her needy, making her want.

  ‘Nate!’ She wiggled again, feeling his erection push against her cheeks. ‘I want you in me. Now.’

  He looked at her, trying to keep a hold on his fraying self-control. ‘I’m not going to last very long like this.’

  Jacqui shut her eyes as a surge of pure female power intensified her desperation. ‘Oh, God, Nathan. Do you think I am?’

  And that was all the invitation he needed. He gripped her hips, his erection nudging her slick female entrance, and slowly eased inside her. She cried out and he leant over her, pulling her into his chest, wrapping himself around her.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he murmured in her ear.

  ‘Of course, Nate,’ she panted. ‘It’s incredible. You’re incredible. Don’t stop.’

  Still, he took a moment to gather himself. The urge to bang into her, again and again, was overwhelming, almost primal. But he wanted it to last, to go on for ever. So he took it slow. Going deep, but not all the way, sensing perfectly the moment to withdraw.

  At another time Jacqui might have appreciated it long and slow, but she’d been hot for him all night and she didn’t want slow and steady. She didn’t want him to hold back.

  She wanted Nate. She wanted all of him.

  ‘Damn it, Nate,’ she cursed as he pulsed into her again. ‘All of you.’

  He didn’t think it was possible, but he hardened even more. ‘Jacq...’

  God, she was killing him!

  ‘Nate! Stop being so damn respectful!’ And she pushed back against him, crying out as she felt his erection sink deeper.

  And he broke. She wanted all of him? He pulled out quickly and slammed into her, ramming himself in to the hilt. She could have all of him. She moaned and called his name, and he repeated the movement.

  ‘Yes, Nate! Oh, God, yes!’

  And then he didn’t need any further encouragement. He reached for her breast and, encouraged by her corresponding groan, squeezed it through the fabric. His other hand reached between her legs and sought the tight round nub amongst all the slick heat. He touched it, and her guttural moan filled the entire room. He rubbed it and she sobbed.

  ‘Nate—’ She could feel herself rushing, hurtling towards inevitability, and she wanted him with her.

  Her belt and her bangles tinkled with each pelvic thrust. ‘Hold on, baby. I know,’ he whispered.

  ‘Nate!’

  ‘It’s okay.’ His own climax was rushing forward fast. ‘Let go, Jacq. I’ve got you.’

  Jacqueline did as he asked, and the whole world ceased to exist. Just him and her as everything imploded. She was vaguely aware of him joining her, calling out her name, squeezing her so tight she thought she might asphyxiate.

  But what a way to go.

  The waves of pleasure seemed to go on and on for ever, buffeting her, stroking her like a thousand velvet fingers. In ten years she’d never had sex this good, and she sought through the treacle that her brain had become to remember why she’d ever walked away from this sex god.

  ‘Nate,’ she gasped.

  Nathan collapsed against her back, holding her tight, his breathing ragged, his chest exploding, trying to get everything under control. Trying to form a coherent thought. It was minutes before that was even possible. And his first thought was the realisation that, despite his spent status, he was far from done.

  He pulled out, hitching up his trousers, reaching for her, swinging her into his arms.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Jacqui asked, still floating on a cloud somewhere.

  ‘My room. For more.’

  She smiled against his chest, her arms creeping up around his neck, liking his answer. Liking it very much.

  Nathan lowered her to the ground gently when he reached his bed. ‘Off with this,’ he murmured, slowly drawing the dress up her legs again.

  Jacqui didn’t argue. She wanted it off as much as he did. She unclipped her belt and let it slide to the floor.

  ‘Oh, no,’ Nathan said, lifting the dress over her head and tossing it aside. He retrieved her belt. ‘That stays on.’

  Jacqui smiled and clipped the belt in place. The cool chains added a sense of the exotic. And then he laid her on the bed and made love to her with a thoroughness that left her speechless.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  An hour later they were laying sated in a post-coital haze that, had they been able to bottle it, would have made them a lot of money on the party drug scene. They were staring at the ceiling, Nathan’s hand trailing up and down her bare arm.

  ‘We should have reconciled years ago,’ he murmured.

  Jacqui smiled. ‘If I’d known the sex was going to be this good, I might have considered it.’

  He chuckled, rolling himself up onto his elbow and looking down at her. ‘It was good, wasn’t it?’ He trailed his finger down her stomach, tracing the decorative loops of gold adorning her waist, the coins tinkling.

  She gave a half-laugh. ‘Sex was never our problem, Nate. Sex we did good. It was just marriage we sucked at.’

  He swirled patterns outwards to her hip. ‘Why was that again?’

  Jacqui sobered. Because I was never enough for you. ‘We were just too different.’

  Even in the semi-dark, with the room illuminated only by the moonlight filtering through the partially open wooden louvres, he could see the swirl of emotion in her toffee eyes.

  He dropped a hard kiss on her mouth. The blood roared through his veins, his stomach muscles twisting as her arms snaked around his neck. Her nipples grazed his chest and he wanted to taste them again, hear her cry out as he laved them to tight peaks.

  He pulled away, his breathing ragged. She was naked and glorious, her russet curls fanned out on his pillow, and he was surprised by the streak of possession that lanced him with sudden savage intensity.

  ‘You’re not going back to the guestroom.’

  Jacqui knew she should protest. Sex hadn’t been part of her reluctant bargain. A public reconciliation to pay back a debt and divorce papers to finally draw their relationship to a close - that had been the deal. But something primal was calling to her.

  Something too big for her to stop.

  ‘Guest bedroom? What guest bedroom?’ />
  Nathan rubbed his thumb against her lips, staring at them intently for long seconds. ‘Good answer,’ he murmured, before savaging her mouth in a blatant display of possession.

  The next two weeks flew by. Between the flurry of media events heralding the float, dinner parties, and their insatiable desire keeping them awake into the wee small hours, Jacqueline was exhausted.

  They slipped into a routine. Nathan worked all hours —practically all the time apart from when they were attending a function or making love behind closed doors. And she was at his beck and call.

  Both in and out of the bedroom.

  It wasn’t very feminist, but she was way out of her depth in Nathan’s glamorous world so it was just easier to let him plot their course.

  Jacqueline found it no hardship playing Nathan’s adoring wife. When they were out on display she slipped into the role effortlessly, enjoying their easy banter and the way he flirted and looked at her as if he was going to spread her on his toast the second he got her alone.

  Which he did at every opportunity.

  Abigail Slater was everywhere she turned in those two weeks. The younger woman clearly held a torch for Nathan, and Jacqui wondered how shrewd, savvy Vince could be so blind to it. Jacqui got the impression that, although the younger woman had backed off, she could see right through their façade and was just waiting for the moment they let down their guard, or Jacqui dropped out of the scene altogether.

  It made her work a bit harder at the whole newly-reconciled-couple thing. She flirted with Nathan a little bit more when Abigail was round — smiled wider, was more tactile, laughed in a way that spoke of intimacy far greater than any words could.

  She had to admit to a touch of jealousy too. The thought of Nathan with Abigail was disturbing. Actually, now she was back in his life — in his bed — again, the thought of Nathan with any woman was disturbing. Years after their split, it wasn’t an emotion she had a right to.

  But it was there anyway.

  The highlight of the fortnight was a trip to Sydney on Nathan’s private jet. He had a major business meeting with lawyers in the morning, and when he suggested she join him she jumped at the chance to tag along.