Impetuous

By Susan Garod

Bianca might look like sex on legs, but she had her head firmly screwed on. Keane Monahan invited her to their school dance. A one- night stand. She remembered his excuses, almost verbatim. She remembered his uncomfortable stance as he stood and told her, to her face that they had no future! Ten years later, she bumped into him, life was going to get complicated. Things were moving too fast. They always did when they came into contact with each other. This occasion was no different. It was as if they were two halves of a whole. Bianca felt heady with power. Then she felt nervous. When, oh when was she going to learn to take things slowly? When was she going to do her best not to get involved with Keane? To take things with him no further. She couldn't keep risking her heart in this way. A pity the messages from her head did not reach her mouth. There was something happening here, at an elemental level and while Bianca might be doing her best to avoid facing it, Keane had no such intention. How was it that this woman could derail all of his thought processes without even having to try? All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Susan Garod
• Release date: Aug 29, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215458372

Susan Garod

reviewsI don't know about other readers but for me it's not just the happy ending. The journey has to be fraught with obstacles and difficulties to make the happy ending worth it. The thing I love best about any of your work is that no matter the obstacle you always find a way for the couple to overcome it and it's not some unrealistic magic fix. Love takes work and you show that. Your characters are also not perfect, they have their strengths and weaknesses clearly on display for readers to really get into the characters heads. At least thats how it is for me. (sweet_candy89, 21/1/2018)If you love reading about strong women and the real men that love them, then Susan Garod never disappoints! The characters are complex with intriguing, interconnected story arcs, which continue in each series with their multiple characters and side stories and makes them such a pleasure to read. Joshua's Grace is the perfect starting point if you haven't read any of Susan's books, and follow the Carvalho sisters into the Moonlight series, Spice Sisters and the Heartbeat series. You See Me elicited the same response as all the preceding books by Susan Garod - I loved it!(Karen, June, 10, 2017)I absolutely LOVE Susan Garod's books, think I have every one of them, so when I seen this was available for my kindle I was ecstatic. Now it is a little different than her other writings, but it is just as good if not better. Laura has found out she has a grandmother, goes to see her but runs into her neighbor who thinks that Laura is there just to get something from the grandmother. There are many trials and tribulations going back and forth between the 2. I really did enjoy this book and if you have read any of Susan's other books you will love this one as well (Lori Costa, July, 28, 2016)

Book preview

Impetuous

Susan Garod

Copyright 2023 Susan Garod

Distributed by Smashwords

Chapter 1

This was one big mistake. Agreeing to come home. Spending two weeks here. She’d agreed because to do anything else would have gone against everything she held dear. Family. Family was the cornerstone in her existence.

When her parents called, she came. Simple as that.

If only she’d known that Keane Monahan was going to be here. Something her father had failed to mention. If Bianca didn’t know any better, she’d think her father was strategic in putting Keane in her path. But she was pretty sure her father knew nothing of the history between Keane and Bianca. Of course her father knew they’d gone out on a date. All those moons ago. That was probably the sum total of her father’s knowledge about the history between Keane and Bianca. Just as well really.

Bianca had often found herself wondering, what if? She wished she could forget the past. Everything. Or even blur it just a bit. Or blur bits. But, as it turned out, unfortunately for her, everything remained crystal clear. No matter what she did, she couldn't shift the boy, couldn't shift the memory of their history, and she just couldn't forget. Everything was crystal clear.

Just over ten years ago, Bianca had sex for the first time. With Keane Monahan. Gladly. At the time. Even to this day, she did not regret her first time. It was a pivotal moment, albeit overwhelming and surprising. At the time she thought she knew what to expect. At the time she thought she knew all about sex. After all she had paid attention to the Sex Ed classes at school. Plus she and her sisters talked. They all knew the mechanics.

What they had not understood was the emotion. The roller coaster ride of anticipation, nerves, excitement, concern, pleasure, and elation. It was not what Bianca expected, and yet, everything that she’d wanted. At the time.

A day later Bianca regretted it. Not the act. Nor the fact that Keane was her first.

He'd ditched her. After one earth shattering experience. He'd ditched her. A one- night stand, that’s all she’d been. She remembered his excuses, almost verbatim. She remembered his uncomfortable stance as he stood and told her, to her face that they had no future! After one night together? No future? So what was that night about? Why have sex with her? The question had remained a fixture in her head for years. But more importantly his change in heart had a significant impact on her approach to dating. It shattered her confidence. Took a confident girl on the inside and out and produced a woman who exuded confidence on the outside, oozed sex appeal without actually trying but one who felt anything but sexy or confident on the inside. What she had seen as the start of a mind blowing perfect fantasy of a relationship was ultimately nothing more than a temporary coupling at a school dance. What she took from the fall out from that event was that she was not worth keeping. She simply was not worth it. Despite the fact she had given him the one thing she could give no other. Despite the fact she had given him her heart and her innocence at the same time Keane Monahan hadn't considered her worth hanging onto.

Keane went off to University, with nothing more than what amounted to a see- you-around. From that day forth Bianca labelled herself pants at sex. Why else would Keane have had sex with her and then dumped her without any real reason? Why hadn’t they gone on to be boyfriend and girlfriend? Everything about that one night clouded her judgment about relationships. She trusted no man’s intentions. She maintained a confident, relaxed front, but she kept her heart shielded. She gave nothing away of what had remained intact from that schoolgirl experience. No man would be allowed to come close to hurting her ever again. Bianca simply refused to open her heart to the prospect of finding love. Bianca was honest enough to know that she was scared to trust. Herself. She could not trust herself to fall in love. See how off her judgment was all those years ago.

Just thinking about that time conjured up the boy. Her heart hammered. Nerves. She told herself. Then she gave herself a silent scolding. She was being silly. She was a grown woman. A successful businesswoman. She could hold her own. She just had to remember that if they bumped into each other.

But that did not stop her now, some eleven years later, dreading meeting the boy. Boy? Man. The boy was pretty impressive. No doubt the man's charm factor would have grown with maturity. He’d be devastating. Hardly surprising then that Bianca was not looking forward to seeing him. As a girl she was not enough to keep the boy interested. So what chance did she have now, as an adult, in keeping the man interested? Not that she wanted him to be interested. It would suit her just fine if he kept a safe distance between them. But that was going to be difficult given her father said he had contracted Keane to work at the house. Or at least contracted his company. Maybe that meant Keane wouldn’t show up. Surely as the CEO he’d be too busy to get his hands dirty or get involved in any of the manual work. Fingers crossed.

Bianca wondered whether she could hold onto her composure. All she had to do was play it cool. Not cold. Not frigid. Just cool. She didn’t want to garner his interest. She’d been there, done that and left with the scars of rejection. Once was enough. All she had to do was be polite. Be pleasant. Step up and be the adult.

Now if only her heart would listen to her brain and stop being so dramatic. The man probably didn’t even remember her. He’d probably forgotten her as soon as he’d reached University. In any case he was hardly likely to remember the girl she was back then. Certainly all these years later, he’d have long forgotten her.

But Bianca hadn’t forgotten him. Over the last decade or so she’d seen Keane, on numerous occasions, but always from a distance. A nice safe distance that she had deliberately maintained. After all, it wasn’t easy coming face to face with a guy who practically ran a mile, or in her case headed for University as fast as he could, soon after having sex with her. Despite the fact she was unceremoniously dumped, or maybe because of that it hadn’t stopped her from thinking about what might have been. It always came back to the same question: Was she really that poor at sex? At the time it hadn’t felt that way. But then, what did she have to go on?

She tried not to go down that route, knowing that it resulted in her feeling distinctly like a beached whale in the Sahara. How could what had happened feel so perfect for her and leave him wanting to put distance between them as soon as he could? Remembering that time brought all her insecurities to the fore.

Everything could have been so different, if only...

Bianca frowned as her thoughts once again returned to the last time she’d seen Keane at a distance. The intervening decade was good to him. The boy was now a ruggedly handsome man, with a body that had women desperate to touch and a face that had women fainting to kiss.

The years hadn’t been bad to her either. The earthy sexuality that was part of her very nature was blanketed with a veneer of sophistication. Confidence was a learnt behaviour. She had no trouble appearing confident, maintaining her composure, and taming her sensuous soul. But her trademark hair gave her away. The riot of curls was simply untameable, something she had come to accept. It was who she was. Earthy. Sensual. Untamed. She usually allowed the riot of curls to just flow down past her shoulders. Her hair was her trademark. When she was working, sketching or cutting, then her hair was confined with the use of a scrunchy. But even then, as Daniella frequently told her, Bianca still looked sexy, more so when wisps of hair escaped the confines of the scrunchy.

The cat like golden eyes, in a face that was heart shaped, together with full pouty lips, and that cascade of hair had men thinking sex on legs whenever they saw her. It was just a pity that her one encounter with Keane Monahan had stifled any urge to pander to any man’s need to assuage his desires. Her confidence was held together with nothing more than a whisper and her practical nature. It held for years. The last thing she needed was another sexual exploit where she was found wanting. Best not to get emotionally involved. Her confidence and practical nature became a shield.

Bianca dated. That is she went out with guys. But any string of dates with the same man usually ended when he wanted to step up from necking, French kissing and heavy breathing. Usually his. When he decided that they should take things further in the bedroom department, that was when Bianca bailed. Even in her own head she was starting to wonder whether dating guys without having any conscious design to sleep with them could be construed as being a tease. It was one thing being discarded at sixteen but she doubted she would be able to handle being rejected again. Best way to deal with that was to make sure she did not get emotionally involved, not get sexually involved, not get involved period. Dating was fine. Anything more, well frankly that was not on the cards. Frigid, the word was at odds with her appearance. For Bianca oozed sensuality. She knew she wasn’t frigid. Just plain scared. The last thing she wanted was for the next person she slept with to confirm she was a disaster at sex. By keeping men close enough to kiss but with her virtual chastity belt in place, Bianca steered a selective path through the social dating scene for years. Sometimes she felt like a fraud. Pretending to be this uber confident woman, when beneath that surface layer she was scared witless. Not of the act, but of giving her heart. She would never survive another rejection, not when the first one had left her with just the shell of her heart intact. She knew she was a coward, just as she knew that knowing that was not going to make her change. She was scared of getting her heart broken all over again. Not that it had healed from the first time. Which brought her back to the fact that maybe she wasn’t scared about loosing her heart, because it was already lost, to Keane. The years had made no difference.

Not surprisingly, while Bianca built her business selling high-end wedding gowns, none of them were ever intended to be hers. Sometimes that made her sad. Who was she kidding? Sometimes? More like always. Knowing that she was creating a dream of a dress for a bride and knowing she was never going to be a bride, sliced just that little bit more into what remained of her heart. Oddly enough that usually resulted in the creation of some of her most beautiful dresses. She designed fairytale concoctions that defied belief and spun believable dreams from a melee of silk, lace and satin. The wearer walked in to the boutique an inquisitive pretty girl and left knowing she would be a jaw dropping, heart- stopping beautiful bride. That’s why Bianca’s business was a success. She knew how to take romance and make it work for every bride. All because she poured that inner romantic in her, into every dress she created.

Bianca’s inner wish list of pent up emotion, a maelstrom of needs and wants, coupled together with her repressed sensuality manifested in the design of elegant, ethereal wedding gowns. They were simply extraordinarily beautiful and usually well matched to the intended bride. As a result Bianca was rapidly gaining a well-earned reputation for the quality and design of her work. People talked about her wedding gowns with admiration and awe.

Just a shame that she would never get to wear any of the wedding dresses she designed. Weddings were for people in love. To be in love you have to open yourself up. Be vulnerable. Offer yourself on a platter. Lay yourself open. Subject yourself to heartache. Bianca had no plans to do any of that. Once was enough. A lifetime of enough. Especially as she knew that deep down her heart was still pining for one man. So instead Bianca poured herself into catering for those with the courage to take the risk. While in her life she kept her men at arm's length.

Interestingly most guys assumed she’d slept with the others. It wasn’t difficult to maintain that belief, for though she hadn’t slept with any of them, the men were either too arrogant, too gentlemanly or too loathe to mention that they lucked out when it came to bedding Bianca. It hadn't taken Bianca long to figure out that the guys she dated were like her in some respects. They wanted to convey a particular image. If that meant maintaining a pretence and suggesting a state of play that left their self esteem intact, then they, like her, took that option. Bianca didn’t begrudge them the virtual trophy.

Thus, Bianca’s reputation in her personal life did not include being frigid, for each of the guys she dated left thinking it was only they who’d failed to score! And they were not going to broadcast that fact. When Bianca and her man parted company they usually did it on good terms. It was easy to let people believe the relationship had run its length and come to an amicable end. The sham worked equally well for Bianca and the men in her life.

The fact her experience was with one man, Keane Monahan, and on one occasion, worried her sometimes. Occasionally she figured she wasn’t that bad at sex, and that Keane must have simply wanted someone with more experience. But that excuse usually wore thin pretty fast. Sometimes Bianca imagined herself being a shriveled up prune. Which was not a good image for a woman who sold the notion of a dream wedding dress and a forever after.

Feeling far from happy with her slide into melancholy Bianca pulled on her silk dressing gown, leaving it undone, over her silk and lace pajamas. She was a sensualist at heart. And just because she was never going to get her fairy tale wedding, did not mean she couldn’t enjoy the luxurious feel of silk against her skin. Bianca knew her sisters thought she was mad, spending way over the odds on her sleepwear. So what if silk and lace were expensive, they felt good against her skin. Not that her sisters believed silk pajamas were practical. Alaina tended to go for practical, old t-shirts, and cotton shorts. No need to go the extra mile, as far as Alaina was concerned. Her bedroom attire just needed to be functional. Daniella was the traditional cotton striped pajama queen. She seemed to have a selection of pretty similar, pink striped pajamas, usually bought from the same store. The only variation was the length of the sleeve or the trouser leg. Summer saw both lengths shorten. Winter saw flannel and length. Catalina was a touch more risqué with her penchant for lacy, strappy nightshifts, which actually provided a clue as to her standard underwear. Catalina favoured hot sexy colours, siren red, sapphire blue, gold, usually lace trimmed, and anything but practical. Worn under her usual public image outerwear of trendy but far from revealing, Cat’s underwear was a complete contrast. Bianca smiled to herself. In many ways, she and her sister were reflections. Where Bianca allowed her sensuality to be seen on the surface in the form of her sultry, relaxed, confidence, Catalina buried hers beneath her professional persona. Where Bianca allowed her hair to cascade with gay abandon, Catalina had hers tamed to within an inch of its life. Bianca’s smile wavered as she acknowledged the fact that she too had tamed her sensuousness to within an inch of its existence while maintaining the facade for public consumption. But another thing she had in common with her sister, apart from their hair and eye colour, was the fact that both of them had applied a generous coat of confidence to their surface layer. Thus far they had managed to successfully con various people into seeing just the outer layer.

With the belt of her dressing gown dangling from the low hoops at hipbone level, Bianca pushed open the curtains that kept the morning light out of her bedroom. Stifling a yawn she remembered she’d left the sliding door open over night. Her bedroom was on the ground floor, and with a hand to her mouth as she stifled yet another yawn she blindly stepped onto the deck. And ploughed straight into the one man she’d been hoping to avoid.

Dressed in a black t-shirt, fitted blue jeans and workmen boots, he should look average. But this was Keane. The man of her dreams. The man of her wishes. Nothing about the man was average.

Whoa! Steady. Keane grabbed hold of her silk clad arms and righted her before she could bounce off the deck. He knew her from the moment she’d stepped onto the deck, her wild sexy hair was her trademark signature. He remembered the feel of that hair. Knew its texture as if it was something he’d touched just yesterday rather than something that had created a memory, which had taken up residence in his head over a decade ago. He knew exactly who was in his arms. Which, given he hadn’t been this close in well over a decade, was a rather disconcerting conclusion. But he knew. Bianca Braganza.

Startled, Bianca snapped at him, I’m not a horse. She glowered and shrugged off his hands. The glower took her from sleepy to sultry instantly as colour suffused her cheeks, while her eyes flashed gold fire and her lips formed a textbook pout. But on the inside she went from sleepy to scared. She was quaking. Nerves fought to override her composure. Him. It had to be him. The Universe was conspiring against her. Where was the time to prepare for the meeting? Why couldn’t she be wearing something stunning?

What had she done to upset the Gods, given everything seemed to be conspiring against her. She was not meant to meet the man again, not like this. Not when she was wearing her nightclothes. Not when her hair no doubt looked unkempt. Not when she hadn’t thought through all the possible lines she could use to greet him, without it sounding like she was a teenager. Not when his mere presence had her heart skittering out of control. More than ten years of guarding her heart behind a wall of confidence and composure evaporated, as if it was nothing more than a haze of mist. A mist that vanished like a snowflake on a hot plate.

Keane’s eyebrows rose at her tone, even as his dark green eyes automatically skimmed over her. She was easy on the eye. She was stunningly gorgeous. But right now, she looked sexy. And angry! His lips twitched. She looked furious.

Of course Keane expected to see Bianca. At some point. He was looking forward to seeing just how much she might have changed. He'd seen family photographs, knew from that that the lovely girl he'd taken to a school dance was a now a stunning beauty. But what he wanted to know was whether she continued to ooze sex appeal the way she had back then when she was a schoolgirl.

Not a morning person Bianca. He grinned, not at all put out by the fact he’d practically had her in his arms. Silk clad and sexy. The girl, now woman still had it. Her gold eyes flashed. Yup, she still had it, he thought as he stepped back and gave her leisurely once over. Then he wished he hadn’t. She was a siren. Her riot of ebony dark curls he remembered, though her hair seemed longer and more lustrous. Not a trace of makeup and still she looked spectacular. Her sleep-tinged eyes were flashing with suppressed molten heat. Temper he figured. Her lips, though free of lipstick or gloss were pink hued and inviting as they formed a pout. Her cheeks flushed with colour. His eyes drifted past her face in blatant perusal. Keane noted the fact her night attire was silk and left little to the imagination as it glossed over sun kissed skin. The silk dressing gown did nothing more than add another whisper of silk.

A lesser man would have gulped, as cells fired up in response to her sensuality. The woman was everything the girl had promised, and then some. That latent sensuality was in her very make up. It was in her DNA as a teenager, but it had exploded several hundred fold as an adult. Keane swallowed. Then his eyes returned to snag hers. He could see by the looks of things, she was still wholly unaware of the fact that she had the ability to scatter his thoughts. He’d been expecting to see her this holiday. But he hadn’t expected to feel this solid hit to the gut when he did see her. He wished he’d taken the time to prepare for this meeting. But who’d have known he’d have this visceral reaction to seeing her.

Tony said the girls would be home for Christmas, but Keane hadn’t realised they’d already arrived. Now seeing Bianca, now he knew that he was in serious trouble. For very little had changed. If anything the chemistry was more potent. It had after all taken only the sight of those curly jet-black locks to have his mind already replaying the last time they were together. Over ten years ago. Keane pulled himself together. He could not afford to remember that experience, not right now. But even as he silently admonished himself for his lack of self- discipline, his body hardened. This was not the time or place.

Keane was on his way round to check on progress to the decking his firm were laying, and was taking a shortcut by coming round this side of the house. He’d never have taken the shortcut if he’d known she was home. Not that he was expecting her to materialize in his path. But still he’d have taken the long way round. Instead, in a hurry, he’d bounded up onto the deck at the corner of the house, a route that enabled him to avoid having to detour past the extensive flowerbeds that provided the equivalent of a moat around the sides of the house. He’d been taking this short cut for the last few days whenever he stopped by to check on progress.

The last person he’d expected to bump into, wearing little more than that excuse for a dressing gown, was Bianca. First, because it was gone nine in the morning and she looked like she had only just woken up and his day had started three hours ago. Second, because he simply hadn’t figured on her being here yet.

While Keane contemplated his mistake in taking this shortcut, Bianca scowled. She’d seen the cursory once over he’d given her. Before he looked disinterested! Typical. She was standing here in what she knew was sexy nightclothes and he’d all but dismissed her. Again. Automatically Bianca reached for the ties to her dressing gown and belted the gown shut.

Like a bit of silk was going to protect her, he thought as he read her defensive action. Like a bit of silk is going to make a difference she thought as she noted the spark in his eyes. Ok, now that was different. Surely that spark suggested he was interested. Wasn’t he? She wished she could read his mind. See if he found her attractive. She thought he did. But then, given the last time they met she thought he fancied her only to find he was leaving town, she did not place much faith in her radar. Her eyes flashed in warning. She’d seen that study he’d made, as if she was there for his delectation. Too late she wanted to scream at him. You had your chance she wanted to snap. Instead she banked her frustration and ire.

Mr Monahan. Her eyes flashed in annoyance. Typical. She probably had bed head, looked a mess, was still half asleep and she ends up meeting the one man on the planet she’d hoped to avoid for eternity and then some. The gold in her eyes sparkled with anger, suppressed anger, as she said with casual disdain, Dad said you were working here. Shouldn’t you be getting on with it, instead of not looking where you are going and barreling into unsuspecting women?

She moved to stand against the balustrade, hoping to use it to prop her up. Her legs were definitely heading for jelly stage. How could bone and muscle suddenly become putty? Ten years on and the boy-man still got beneath her skin without any effort. Why him? Ten years on, and everything that meant anything suddenly seemed to depend on the boy who’d grown into the handsome man standing in front of her. That combination of dark, dark green eyes in a tanned face with jet black hair that had her fingers itching to comb, were nearly her undoing.

Keane’s jet-black eyebrows winged upward. Mr Monahan? She had to be kidding. She really thought he was going to tolerate that? Being put in his place through the use of his surname? His eyes flashed with laughter.

Bianca folded her arms all but ready to hiss at him when she saw that flicker of laughter in his eyes. Instead she settled for a sneer, Shouldn’t you be getting on with it, instead of bounding into poor women? I suggest you apologise and move on, Mr Monahan. Bianca moved to stand against the balustrade, her back to the garden and her arms braced as she planted her hands on the railing. She gave him what she considered her haughtiest look. Which really was a waste of time, given she looked like she’d just come from making love. Her hair was mussed up, her eyes were sleep tinged, her lips were in full pout and her face was flushed an enchanting rosy hue.

A jet-black eyebrow winged its way to his hairline at the use of his surname again. He snorted, Mr Monahan? He laughed as if bumping into Bianca and having this type conversation was standard for the both of them, You call all your lovers by their surname? Keane asked deliberately baiting her. Then he stepped closer, knowing his actions would annoy her. While he was clearly enjoying meeting her, she was equally clearly unhappy to find him here.

Bianca wanted to growl. Her eyes flashed another warning, but she didn’t move, even when he placed an arm on either side of hers, his palms a bare inch from her own. Then he leaned in, his lips within touching distance. His eyes flicked down to her lips, then flicked back up to the gold in her eyes. Message conveyed. He saw that when her eyes went liquid gold.

Back off. She growled, and then licked her lower lip. Stupid. Stupid, she remonstrated, knowing that he’d read it as an invitation. It was nerves.

No. Hovering a breath away. Keane felt every cell become alert. His gaze flicked from her lips to her eyes and then back again. Bianca did her best not to gulp. But really, was this what a gazelle felt like if she shared an enclosure with a panther? Keane’s head descended, his face came closer in what appeared to Bianca to be a smooth blur. Let’s see if I can help you remember my first name. The last word was said as his lips made contact with hers.

Bianca did not understand why she simply stood there, practically encouraging him to kiss her. He’d given her time, long enough to duck beneath his caging arms, or at the very least enough time to plant her hands on his chest and shove. But she’d done neither. Instead she’d remained frozen to the spot. Not that her lips were frozen. No, her lips parted with a breath of anticipation, her eyelashes drifted down, as his lips made contact with hers and Bianca responded to a kiss that was a hell of a lot more potent then the kisses she recalled.

All those self-defence classes appeared to be a waste of time. For Bianca let him kiss her. Wanted him to kiss her. What was the matter with her? She was a reasonably sensible woman. Allowing Keane Monahan to kiss her was not sensible. Sensual, yes. But not sensible. Bianca ignored sense. Instead she poured herself into the kiss. Intuition. Recognition. Lust. Years of wanting this man.

Their hands remained on the railing, as their lips danced sensually, creating a drug that had the kiss blossoming with growing urgency and a suggestion of years of need. Tantalising glimpses of heaven appeared as his lips issued promises bestowed by the angels. The kiss went from testing, to sharing, to demanding, to nuclear. Bianca more than met him as Keane took them on a voyage of rediscovery. She arched her neck, turned her head, opened her mouth and fitted her lips to his to take the kiss that degree further. Keane needed no further encouragement. His mouth took the invitation offered as a license to deepen the kiss. His lips firmed, pressure increased, and his tongue danced into her mouth. The response was dazzling.

Several minutes later Keane lifted his head, his heart hammering, his eyes hooded, his gaze swept her face, waiting for her to open her eyes. His breath fanned across her lips. Slowly her eyelids fluttered and her eyelashes revealed the impact of his kiss. Gold blazed with heat and passion.

Recognise me now? Keane whispered. His pupils dilated, his voice dripped silk, as his curved lips paused, a fraction of an inch away from her lips. For a fleeting second Keane hovered. No contact between them, just the soft breath of his voice as he challenged her recall.

Bianca’s breath caught. Her dilated pupils attempted to focus. Bianca’s gaze flicked up, gold met green and fantasies sprang to life. His face moved closer, his lips hardened as they made contact with hers. Heady satisfaction rolled through her, from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. Before she could answer his question, his hands came off the railing. Keane pulled her flush against him, no longer content to have just one point of contact between them. Her eyelashes fluttered down. Her body reacted to the abrasion of silk and his body heat through that silk. Her lips parted in heady anticipation as it recognized a path taken years previously and yearned forever since. Keane’s gaze honed in on her lush mouth, for a fraction of a second he ghosted her lips before he lowered his head and challenged her lips demanding more. Bianca gave instantly. His tongue flicked at her lips, one flick before surging past the fullness of now swollen lips, plundering her mouth, in a quest to dance with her tongue.

The kiss exploded. Bianca flung her arms around his neck. Her fingers grabbed at fistfuls of hair at his nape as she held his head, angling hers to meet and match the demand of his kiss. His mouth pressed against hers, ardent, fervent, hot. Her tongue traced his. They tormented each other, recalling memories that were over ten years in the storing. Then her tongue darted into his mouth and continued to mate with his, demanding, offering, cajoling, commanding. Nothing mattered as Bianca kissed Keane without thinking about the ramifications.

For several seconds they remained fused, the kiss growing with exponential heat. With no words spoken he issued a challenge. She accepted the challenge and issued one of her own. Her tongue tangled with his, drawing him back into the moist heat of her mouth. Everything. She gave him everything. Despite their history. Despite over a decade of wall building. Despite Bianca’s determination to avoid Keane. She encouraged him. Offering glimpses of a tempting world. Offering herself. Again.

It was a good few minutes later when his trembling hands framed her face and he reluctantly pulled away slightly. Their breathing shallow and fast, his hands framed her face as he eased away, You’re playing a dangerous game, Bianca. He was pretty sure she could feel his heart hammer. If that wasn’t an obvious give away, then the press of his arousal against her abdomen, would clue her in.

Bianca’s gaze was sultry. Hadn’t taken you for a coward, Keane. Her golden gaze impetuously challenged his control. She knew she was playing with fire. She knew that. Yet there was nothing she could do to stop her impetuousity. Not once he’d initiated that kiss. Not when her heart recognised her mate.

Bianca would later wonder where her brazen attitude came from? How she could have challenged the man responsible for her one and only sexual experience to pick up where Keane had left off, all those years ago? When sanity returned she would wonder about the dangers in tweaking the tail of a tiger.

But right now, all she could do was feel. There were no thought processes. Just the scent, the taste, the feel of him. And she wanted more. Needed more.

Smothering a curse, his mouth returned to hers, lips pressed against enamel as the sudden action caught her unaware. Then he gentled the kiss, the pressure of his lips eased, but the reaction was anything but slow. Her lips parted instantly. The kiss went from noteworthy to nuclear. Her signals were clear. Her wish list issued with straightforward instructions that Keane found easy to interpret. Bianca wanted him.

Bianca knew what she wanted. Intuitively she knew who she wanted. Now years after waiting subconsciously for this exact opportunity, now she knew it was her turn. Her reaction left him in no doubt. She wanted him.

Keane pressed closer. His fingers remained cradling her head, holding her tenderly as his mouth plundered hers. Her tongue met and matched his every movement. She felt out of control. She knew she was out of control. Her nipples hardened. The tight hard nubs made light work of the thin veil of silk pajamas, silk dressing gown and his cotton t-shirt. Keane became conscious of her nipples, pressed like darts against his chest. His body responded to the invitation. Keane growled low in his throat. Bianca murmured low in her throat as the gentle abrasive action of silk against her skin took already sensitive skin to near on unbearable sensitivity. Her lips swollen and sensitive from the demanding kiss were nothing compared with the dampness and sensitivity between her legs. Keane muttered something she barely caught and paid little attention to, as his mouth sought more, knew that there was more and went after it with single- minded determination.

The second word he uttered registered fleetingly in Bianca’s befuddled brain.

Fuck! He growled as his lips burnt a path along her jaw line, returning time and time again to her swollen lips. His tongue swept into her mouth like a conqueror on a crusade. Her welcome was nothing short of mind-blowing and brazen. With his mouth once again fused to hers, the demand forcing her head back, arching her against him, she bowed taut against his torso. One hand left her head, leaving his other hand to slide round and cup the back of her head. His liberated hand moved with purpose and determination. His fingers brushed aside her dressing gown. The material felt like an erotic caress against the back of his hand. His fingers slid past the hem of her camisole top and caressed the silky skin it encountered. Bianca purred deep in her throat. Instinct kicked in. She gave him further license. Keane’s palm slid up her ribcage, his fingers curling as the pads of his fingers reached the underside of her breasts. He cupped her gently. She purred again. Then Bianca nipped at his lower lip, her lower body went damp at the juncture of her thighs. She squirmed, clutching at him as the gentle seductive mind blowing caress of her breast continued. Her breathing hitched, as sensation shocked her system, teasing dormant signals into life. Bianca lifted both hands and grabbed hold of his head as his thumb stroked across the hardened nub of nerves. It was only when he felt her fingers graze his boxer clad erection that Keane realised Bianca had unzipped his jeans. She had her hand inside the front of his jeans. It was then that sanity hit. And it hit hard.

The next second there was air between them. His fingers withdrew from beneath her camisole with unexpected speed. Her eyes, molten and glazed with passion flashed open in utter confusion. She found him staring at her, wide-eyed shock clearly evident in his startled green eyes that were now near black with passion. She recognised his look. He was shocked, and more. Hunger. Surprise. Caution.

What the hell are you doing Bianca? Keane growled as he zipped up his jeans with unsteady fingers, his gaze heated with anger rather than passion now.

What? She was slower to recover.

Fuck! We are standing in broad daylight! At your parent’s home! On the bloody verandah! His breathing was harsh and rapid. He glared at her. For fucks sake! You don’t shove your hands down the pants of a guy you haven’t seen in ten years! You shove him away! They were out in public view for fuck’s sake, he thought as his eyes took a quick scan of their environment. Anyone, anyone at all would have had a free sex show, given the way they kissed and touched each other. Anyone could have stumbled upon them. Her parents, for starters. His work crew. Anyone. Any-fucking-one! What the hell was she thinking? What the hell was he thinking?

Thinking, well that had clearly been in short supply.

Bianca went from the heat of passion to the heat of temper in one flashing spark. Time to analyse her behaviour later. Bianca had no intention of allowing Keane to make out she was to blame. The last time they’d been together he was equally shocked. You’d think with the lapse of over ten years, things might have changed. But it looked like her behaviour still had the potential to unnerve him. The difference this time was that she was over ten years older. Over ten years more confident. Over ten years tougher. Ten years ready to deal with him!

You bastard. You started this. Not my fault you haven’t the guts to finish it! She hurled the words at him as if they were grenades. Then Bianca did what he’d suggested she should have done earlier. She pushed at his chest and strode past him, stalking straight into her bedroom. He heard the door slide shut, the lock engaged and then he saw her pull the curtains closed.

For several long seconds, breathing erratically, Keane stared at the sliding doors. His body hurt. He closed his eyes. Big mistake. She materialised in his head. Gold eyes dark with passion, lips swollen with need, face flushed with colour.

Breathing hard, he rifled his fingers through his hair and then wished he hadn’t, for her scent was on his fingers. His body geared up instantly. Swearing profusely he was tempted to break into her bedroom and finish what they had started. But he couldn’t. Her father trusted him. To do the job he’d been paid to do. Not to seduce his daughter on her first day back home. His erection had yet to subside, the constraint of his jeans doing nothing to help his condition.

Once again he surveyed the location. Thank goodness for small mercies. No one to witness that incendiary sex scene. What the fuck was she thinking? He knew what he’d been thinking, at the start at any rate. After that no thinking was possible. But at the start, he’d just wanted to teach her a lesson. Make a point. He wasn't going to allow her to pretend she didn’t know him. She couldn’t control him with her hauteur. She’d deliberately baited him with her repeated and haughty use of his surname. He’d decided to return the favour, with a kiss, to show her that he was immune to her tantrum and to show her he remembered everything. Her response was unexpected.

He’d anticipated her pushing him away, reading him the riot act for daring to kiss her. She would yell at him. Maybe even shove him hard. Instead, she’d all but devoured him. And then gone up in smoke herself. Where had that response come from? How could a woman he hadn’t spoken to in over ten years, speak to his heart and loins without any need for translation or assistance from his brain?

That was a momentous occasion. Wholly unexpected for starters. But that was the trouble. She always was unexpected. Everything about her was unexpected and yet at the same time acknowledged and recognised by something core deep within him. Even their first time together. Her surrender to his experience. Her response to his tutelage. Her passion when she'd recovered from the shock of their initial experience had shredded his command, forcing a youth who believed himself to be well versed in the art of sex to reconsider the meaning of making love. For when Bianca gave, she gave a hundred percent and then some. He’d forgotten that. Just as he'd all but buried how his body's response to this particular woman was extraordinary.

But the moment he’d placed his lips on hers, he remembered just how much of a jolt she gave his system. The trouble was, Bianca was not easy. Not in any sense.

He was used to being the hunter, used to initiating sex play, used to taking the lead. He had the skills and experience to bring a woman to orgasm, many times over. He had control of his own body. Keane knew he could rein it in when necessary. He could control his urges. But the last few minutes with her were nothing like any past experience with other women. Nothing close.

Fuck, he’d lost all thought processes during that first kiss. Lost awareness of their environment when that kiss had kicked him into the stratosphere.

Where the hell had she learnt to kiss like that? It sure as hell wasn’t the way she’d kissed when they’d been together that one time. Ok, he admitted, that was well over ten years ago and she was new to having sex. Initially she struggled to cope with the complexity of a demanding teenage boy who had yet to acquire the finesse of sexual prowess, and the ability to know when he was initiating a young girl into her first sexual experience. Penetration that first time was hot, and tight, and everything a teenager expected in his wet dreams. Possession was a shock, as she surrendered her inexperience. He felt her tears while he struggled to exert any measure of gentleness as he came with unfettered teenage enthusiasm.

Ten years on he was equally shaken. He closed his eyes and blew out a slow steadying breath. He was still shocked. Just as he was well over a decade ago when he discovered it was her first time. Then, like now, he felt hunger, surprise and caution. Back then he felt a visceral hunger, because being with her felt amazingly and surprisingly good. Keane remembered his surprise given her lack of experience back then. She’d brought him to an orgasm with little effort or understanding on her part. Instinct. Sheer instinct. Or was there more to it? Then came caution. Caution, because he wasn’t sure how to help her deal with the aftermath of her first time. He’d thought about cuddling her. Holding her close. Whispering words of empathy. But his teenage skills were limited, and though he’d held her, hugged her, and whispered quietly to her, he was pretty sure his words were trite and even more sure that he sounded lame. Not much changed between then and now, he thought as his memory served up fragments of today’s encounter for reconsideration.

Her reaction had startled him that day. Like just now.

Chapter 2

One evening, well over ten years ago remained fresh in his memory. Having sex with Bianca was up there as one of the most gauche moments in his life! The fact that at the time Keane had no idea that it was Bianca’s first time was simply compounded by the fact that an inexperienced girl had shown him paradise. The complete loss of control was not something Keane had ever contemplated let alone anticipated. An inexperienced girl had made him come like a steam train, with little finesse, minimal skill and non-existent restraint. As a young teenage boy, the fact she hadn’t come he had ascribed to the fact it was her first time. He was not the first with any of his previous girlfriends, never been the first with any of his subsequent girlfriends. But that wasn't the reason he remembered their one and only time together.

Keane remembered it clearly. It was to be their first and last date.

They made out at the back of the school sports shed. Not the most romantic of venues, or the most comfortable. But it afforded some measure of privacy when things escalated. Just thinking about that time had his skin flushing with colour.

Over a decade ago Keane invited Bianca to the school dance. He hadn’t expected the evening to be anything other than a standard first date. He'd had enough of those to know what to expect. Some heavy petting. A few French kisses. Hand holding. That’s what he imagined might happen with Bianca. If he was lucky. He’d thought about asking her out for a few months, and knew from feedback from his mates, who’d spoken to her friends, that she would say yes, if he asked her out. So, with the school dance approaching, Keane figured that was as good a time as any to ask Bianca out on a date.

Her reaction was open. She'd tried to stop herself from grinning from ear to ear, but knew from his answering smile that she had failed to hide her reaction. She was absolutely thrilled. He was one of the school's fittest guys. And he'd asked her to the school dance. Ecstatic was an understatement. He also knew from her sisters’ reaction that Alaina, Catalina and Daniella were reserving judgment about him. Dating one of the triplets was a big deal, for while the girls were not identical they were very close. And their older sister Alaina was very protective.

But with adolescent confidence in spades, Keane picked Bianca up at her house, ran the gauntlet of speaking to her father and mother, dodged the smirking looks her sisters had thrown him, and luckily didn’t loiter long at her house. Keane remembered complimenting Bianca on the dress she wore. She had no qualms when she told