Carole Mortimer - Darkness Into Light

His steely tone made her cringe. Pierce Sutherland was obviously a man without mercy, which led her to wonder if he wasn’t his uncle’s hatchet-man; he gave the impression of having to make harsh decisions and seeing that they were carried out.

‘Pierce, I—–’

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ he rasped, looking down at her coldly.

Sherry-coloured eyes widened in bewilderment. ‘Sorry?’

He looked down pointedly at the hand she had placed on his chest as she made her plea.

Danny looked down at the hand too, the skin almost the same colour as his own mahogany, hours spent working in the grounds meaning it wasn’t a pretty or delicate hand, the nails were kept short and square, the long fingers were capable rather than refined, several callouses on her palm. No, it wasn’t a pretty hand, but it didn’t deserve the dissecting regard Pierce was giving it, either.

‘Why are you touching me?’ he asked slowly.

She breathed softly as she realised the reason for his terse query. ‘I talk with my hands,’ she dismissed. ‘My father says that if my hands were tied behind my back I’d be silent.’

‘I doubt that,’ Pierce drawled derisively.

‘It’s true. I—–’ The light explanation was cut off as firmly moulded lips descended almost roughly on to her own.

Surprise was quickly followed by pleasure, and with a low groan of surrender she curved her body in to his, her arms going up about his neck, opening her lips as the rigidity of his tongue probed against them.

Her mouth widened even more as she gasped at the coolness of the marble against her back as she was lowered to the ground, the hardness of Pierce’s chest crushing her breasts in a most erotic way, the peaks erect through her bikini top.

‘Danny—– What is your name?’ Pierce demanded against the curve of her breast.

She mumbled her reply, surprised she could remember her name, feeling dizzy at the expertise of this man’s kisses. God, he …

‘I’m sorry, Mr Sutherland, I had no idea—–!

My God, Danny!’ Don Bridgeman, Head of Security for the Sutherland estate, gasped as he stood several feet away from them, his dark-suited figure strangely out of place.

‘What is it?’ Pierce sat up, effectively shielding Danny as she straightened her bikini.

‘We have a security alert on the west wall—–’

‘I’m surprised you were aware of it,’ Pierce snapped with icy reproval as he stood up.

‘Sir …?’ Don Bridgeman looked puzzled.

‘Never mind,’ Pierce dismissed. ‘I’ll talk to you about that later. Wait for me outside.’

Danny watched the exchange with a puzzled frown, feeling sorry for the older man, knowing his rebuke had all been her fault. But how was she supposed to know her casually given admission would cause this much trouble; the alarm was only off for a matter of minutes, for goodness’ sake!

‘I’m sorry about this.’ Pierce put out a hand to pull her to her feet, instantly releasing her as she straightened. ‘I had no idea we would be interrupted.’

She dismissed the apology with an impatient shrug. ‘What are you going to do about Dave Benson?’

His head went back haughtily. ‘I don’t believe that is any of your business.’

‘But—–’

‘If you’ll excuse me, I have to go and check on this break in security,’ he cut in pointedly.

Danny would have liked to have said more, but she could see by the implacability of his rigidly clenched jaw that Pierce wasn’t in the mood to listen. With a shrug she collected up her robe and left, the mischievous leaps and bounds of Ferdinand and Kilpatrick as they accompanied her back to the cottage not soothing her at all. Pierce seemed to be a powerful and respected man—and she was more deeply attracted to him than any man she had ever met.

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