Create: A Cariad Romance Three Book Bundle (Cariad Collections) Read online

  Create

  A Cariad Collection

  Out of Focus by Primula Bond

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  One of Us by Antonia Adams

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Drawn by DD Byrne

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Out of Focus by Primula Bond

  Chapter One

  ‘This is the exact style I’ve been looking for. Classic, but quirky. I particularly like the monochrome. Where can I find the artist?’

  Eloise glanced across from her perch in the corner and pushed her glasses up her nose. ‘That’s me. I mean, these are my pictures.’

  The man kept his gaze on the central photograph. It was of Jake in a deserted department store at night, taken from behind so none of the punters would recognise him. He was butt naked, lit by a single spot, and being jostled by fully-clothed mannequins.

  ‘What I want is for you to come to my place and take a portrait of my tribe,’ the man said, turning to look at her. He had burning blue eyes and sleek black hair greying at the temples. A modern day Dracula. ‘I should warn you. We are more like the Addams family. But I want to create the illusion that we’re normal. Beautiful. Capable of sitting still for five minutes.’

  ‘Sounds intriguing. I’ll just check my appointments.’ Eloise flicked through the pages of her totally empty diary.

  He was suddenly standing right in front of her. ‘I forgot to say. The sitting needs to be done this weekend before they all scatter to the four winds.’

  Eloisa remembered her manners and stood up. Up close he was even taller. She guessed that his suit was expensively tailored but his red silk tie was very slightly loosened, giving him a rakish air.

  He noticed that she was staring at his undone top button. ‘Do excuse me. It’s been a tough day. Cedric Epsom.’

  ‘Eloise Stokes.’

  He took her hand.

  ‘So, Eloisa Stokes, may I commission you to take the family portrait?’

  ‘It’s Eloise.’ She expected him to shake her hand, but instead he lifted it and brushed it across his upper lip. He seemed to be smelling her skin as if her hand was a posy. Or a morsel he was about to devour. She went hot all over. He kissed her fingers as they crooked into a fist. Was that the tip of his tongue bumping over her knuckles? She had the weirdest urge to push her fingers hard into his mouth and have him suck them one by one …

  He gave her back her hand as if they’d just finished some kind of archaic dance. ‘So it’s a date. For Friday?’

  ‘Yes. Sure. Fantastic.’ Stammering like an amateur.

  He walked towards the door, then turned and handed her his card. ‘Come by my office in half an hour. I never do business without discussing payment first.’

  Eloise watched him walk down the street, snapping back his French-cuffed wrist to check his watch. Jake emerged from his office. Normally he would hover, keep tabs on everything that was going on in the gallery. But now he was marching about switching off the main lights unnecessarily sharply. He left one bright spot illuminating her picture of him.

  ‘Did you hear that amazing conversation, Jake? My first professional assignment, and from passing trade, too. How about that!’

  Jake locked the gallery door.

  ‘I’d hardly call Cedric Epsom passing trade.’

  ‘You know that guy?’

  ‘Everyone knows him!’ Jake gave a sardonic laugh. ‘He’s a kind of modern day Machiavelli. You know, patron to the arts. Well connected, too. I mean, everyone from Clinton to Clintwood comes through his door when they’re in London. So if he likes it, buys it, and hangs your work in his house, it will be seen by all the movers and shakers–’

  Eloise lifted her long hair to cool her neck and gave a wriggle of excitement. ‘So why are you stamping about looking like thunder? Doesn’t this make me your star protégée? After all, you discovered me first!’

  He pulled her away from the window and took hold of her. She leaned into him, pushing her big breasts against his shirt and rubbing them slowly against him, just the way he liked it. The breasts she kept hidden under loose tunics and had only ever unwrapped for him. His mouth fell open as her nipples pricked hard through the soft fabric.

  ‘I just wish it wasn’t him, of all people. He eats women for breakfast, Elle.’

  ‘He’s old enough to be my father.’ She slapped gently at his cheek. ‘This is a commission, for God’s sake, not a casting couch. My chance to get myself on the map! I’m not a kid, Jake. And I’m hardly a Playboy centrefold. He’s posing for me, remember, not the other way round. I’m in total control–’

  ‘You don’t know the half of it!’ Jake slammed her against the wall, his breath hot and angry on her face. The blow buzzed through her bones. ‘You’re a brilliantly talented photographer, Elle, I’ve made sure of that. But you’re still so naïve! Christ, you’ve never even fucked another man!’

  ‘And? What are you now, my lord and master?’ She tried to shake him off, but his fingers dug into her skin through the thin shirt and he pushed his knee between her legs and up, so that her pussy was grinding against his thigh. She was breathing hard now, but the fury was shafting through her body, making it spark with a toxic heat. ‘Well, maybe now’s the time to start!’

  He pushed her shirt up to reveal her big breasts encased in a silky pink bra. He cradled them as he liked to do, flicking his thumbs across the tightening nipples.

  ‘Cocky words like that don’t suit you. You’re mine, Eloise Stokes. And you always will be.’

  The heady sensation as he tweaked her hot nipples while she tried to fight him was too strong. She struggled weakly. ‘How could I be only yours? I’m 22. There’s a whole world waiting for me out there!’

  And the world was walking home past the window right now, sweaty from the heatwave that was sucking London dry.

  ‘I taught you everything you know.’ He pinched harder, watched her head fall back against the wall. ‘So I think you should be thanking me, don’t you?’

  She gritted her teeth, gathering every ounce of strength she had to resist temptation. Then she pushed him away and pulled down her shirt.

  ‘Of course I’m grateful to you. I’m proud that I can call myself a professional now. But I’m not going to grovel on my hands and knees.’

  ‘Shame. Perhaps we should try that next time!’ He laughed, reached for her again. ‘But you still know you won’t get anywhere without my guidance.’

  Eloise wrenched open the door before she gave in to him again. Relished the warm breeze blowing over her skin. ‘Just you watch me.’

  Chapter Two

  Half an hour later she was stepping out of a lift on the penthouse floor of Cedric Epsom’s corporate building. The City was spread out like a baking feast, the Docklands railway trundling lethargically around th
e glittering skyscrapers.

  Inside the office there was nothing so pedestrian as a computer or telephone to be seen, or even any other people. Just a huge glass desk the size of her kitchen, a vase of lilies big enough to bathe in, and an array of Dom Perignon bottles lined up on a chrome bar.

  Cedric had taken his jacket and tie off by now, but somehow the open collar and sleeves rolled up over his powerful arms made him look more scary, not less. He showed her to a white leather chair by the window and handed her a glass of champagne. The first delicious sips lulled her into a kind of welcoming helplessness.

  ‘So, Eloisa Stokes.’

  ‘It’s Eloise, Mr Epsom.’

  ‘Prettier this way. It can be my special name for you.’

  Label, more like, she thought, holding the cold bubbles on her tongue for a moment. I bet you like to label all your people and possessions.

  ‘So. Let’s get the finances out of the way so we can both relax.’ He sat on the edge of the desk, swinging one long leg. She finally understood what a master of the universe looks like in the flesh. ‘Because by the time you come over to Richmond I want us to be, well, better acquainted.’

  His eyes were chips of blue ice. His gaze never left her face as they started negotiating her fee for the shoot. She wondered if this intense attention, scrutiny almost, was part of his business technique. Because it was certainly working. She felt hot, bothered, and drawn to him like a magnet.

  She accepted a second glass of champagne, plucked a figure out of the air as they talked, then doubled it.

  ‘Done!’ He smacked his hands down on his thighs. ‘I hope this is going to be the start of a very lucrative partnership, Miss Stokes. I’ll have priceless modern talent on my walls and you’ll be able to charge whatever you like!’ He stood up as if to dismiss her. ‘So, are you rushing off to your boyfriend now?’

  She shook her head too quickly. It made her feel dizzy. The chair swivelled crazily of its own accord.

  ‘It was just an innocent question.’ He took the arms of the chair and spun it round to face him. ‘I bet when you’re scrubbed up you have them all eating out of your hand.’

  ‘Scrubbed up?’

  ‘Forgive me. Crass phrase. You’re more like a pre-Raphaelite painting, that bone-structure, that Celtic colouring, your amazing hair, but why do you shroud it like this?’ He waved his hand over her as if he was a conjuror. Her body went tight, watching his fingers as they cast their spell. ‘I’m surprised that Sebastian hasn’t seen the light, got you in front of the camera as well as behind it, because I’m sensing there’s a sensational body under that dreary artist’s smock or whatever it is you’re wearing, just waiting to bust out.’

  ‘You speak to all your employees like that?’ she retorted weakly, even as the thought occurred to her that Cedric might be right. Jake wanted to hide her away. Keep her to himself.

  This time Cedric Epsom’s laugh was deep and dirty. He bent closer. Late evening silvery bristles were pushing through his tanned skin and he smelt divine. Sharp, crisp, lemony. She tried to suppress a sudden, vivid image of him patting the cologne on to his skin this morning in some vast marble bathroom, his face and naked body reflected in a huge, spotlit mirror.

  ‘You’re freelance, yes? So you’re not exactly my employee. But yeah, if people don’t like the way I say it, they don’t have to take my money.’

  She flinched like a ticked-off schoolgirl. She could picture Jake shaking his head at her uppity little gaffe. Knew you couldn’t cope out there without me.

  ‘Seriously, how do you think I’m so successful?’ Cedric Epsom went on, hitching one buttock onto his desk. ‘Once I’ve sussed the intellectual talent in a person, I can detect their physical potential under the thickest specs, the baggiest clothes, the drabbest of barnets. Get rid of that and you’ve got a force of nature who can do anything.’

  Eloise stole another glance at his exquisitely cut trousers, the slight gather beneath the belt, but was that a bulge straining at the cloth, a long shape extending to the left of the zipper? Her stomach contracted and she flattened one hand against the plate glass window.

  ‘I spotted that potential as you call it, just by walking through your lobby just now. Everyone who works here seems to be beautiful.’

  He studied her. ‘By the time we’re through, you’ll be beautiful, too, Miss Stokes.’

  ‘I can’t wait.’ Eloise tried a little sarcasm. Show Cedric. Show Jake, that she could do this. ‘So, tell me what you want from me.’

  ‘God, Eloisa. Have you any idea how sexy that sounds?’ His voice was gravelly now and he turned to the window. A descending aeroplane cut a swathe through the peachy evening sky. ‘There’s all sorts of things I want from you.’

  ‘I meant, exactly what do you want from this commission?’ It was supposed to sound curt, but was virtually a whisper. She watched the pulse go in his neck. ‘How did this conversation get so suggestive?’

  ‘Of course. Sorry. You’re just so – there’s something so raw about you.’ There was a pause as he tried to hide the definite warp in his deep voice. ‘Right. I want you to get under the skin of my family. Observe them. Position them. Frame them. Turn what you see into an amazing artistic moment.’

  Surely that wasn’t a catch in his voice?

  ‘I think I understand.’

  ‘A permanent memory, on celluloid, of one night before we all separate.’

  There was suddenly something very still about him. All that ferocious power and energy temporarily contained as his words hung in the air. They both turned to each other at the same time, and suddenly her face was trapped between his big strong hands. She stood up on tiptoe but still she was only on a level with his throat.

  ‘What are you doing to me, Miss Stokes?’ Cedric reached out and twined his fingers in her wild, curly auburn hair, making her scalp tingle.

  ‘I think the question is, what are you going to do to me?’ she whispered, hardly believing she’d said it.

  He smiled, something of the wolf returning to his grin. What big teeth you have. All the better for … He stroked her hair as if she was a nervous animal that needed calming. How was he to know how much she loved having her hair stroked? Even if he might be about to gobble her up?

  ‘I’ll come clean and confess. I asked you to come here because I wanted you.’

  ‘Oh, God. You were reading my mind!’

  He pulled her towards him. She could feel his breath on her face. She closed her eyes, taut with anticipation. Surely now he would dismiss her, finish the meeting before something disastrous happened, she hadn’t meant that she wanted him, too, but it was too late, he started to kiss her, his mouth resting on hers, firm and masterful, his lips just hovering, and maybe he would have moved away then, but she gripped his shoulders, pressing herself against him, and that seemed to trigger all his responses and he wasn’t going to stop now.

  He nudged open her lips, running his tongue round the tender lining where all the little nerve endings burst into life, pulling away when she tried to suck at it, teasing her, making her want to scream, shout, kick, run away, tear her clothes off, but all the while his fingers tangling in her hair were hypnotic, keeping her very still.

  She waited, still unsure of what to do, a very tiny voice in the back of her head questioning whether this was really the right way to close the deal.

  But then he was kissing her again, and their bodies were pressed tightly together, heat radiating out of him. Sweat sprang up under her hair, the sky-high window cool against her back, the soft brush of her breasts such a contrast against his hard, muscular chest. All her senses were on high alert as he swayed her round in a strange dance, making her dizzy, her nipples hardening and grating against his cotton shirt, the friction kick-starting desire.

  ‘This isn’t right.’ With superhuman effort she pulled away. ‘Mr Epsom, I – I need to know that we still have an arrangement. That my behaviour won’t spoil, won’t change your view …?’

 
‘That depends, Miss Stokes, on how good you are. Because I’m liking you more and more.’ He laughed softly, more like a growl in his throat. ‘And so will my family.’

  Lust was sparking in his blue eyes now, a flush streaking his lean cheeks, and best of all, there was the unmistakeable response bulging out of the expensive fabric of his trousers, the way he shifted his weight towards her body, not away.

  She pushed herself harder against him, her fanny damp inside her faded jeans as her body met the hard ready shape of his cock. Did his beautiful employees downstairs ever wonder, as they dawdled by the water cooler, if he was well hung? Come on. Had many of them tasted it?

  Suddenly he fell back into the white chair, pulling her down on top of him. Distractingly, the lift bell outside his office dinged. Her head shot up at the distraction, and she could see against the darkening glass pane her face, wide-eyed, even wilder-haired, her breasts looking huge and dominant in the baggy shirt which oh God his long strong fingers were starting to unbutton.

  Thank God Jake had bought her so much expensive underwear. He was absolutely right when he said a perfectly fitting bra and silky knickers would make her feel secretly sexy under all those scruffy clothes. And he said it made him feel horny knowing it.

  He hadn’t thought another man would be undressing her and enjoying his gifts, though, had he? But thoughts of poor Jake fled as Cedric Epsom opened the baggy blouse to reveal her big breasts squeezed into the frilly magenta bra. A muscle flickered in his cheek as that wolfish grin spread over his face again.

  ‘La Perla. Who knew?’

  As his mouth brushed against her breasts, swollen now and pulsing with excitement, she lifted one leg to straddle him, but then squealed with shock as he yanked her loose trousers and knickers right off.

  Now his hands were squeezing her breasts so hard that they hurt, darkness sliding into light, pain into pleasure as he rubbed her nipples through the satin. Now her bare pussy was rubbing against his crotch, the length of his cock hard against her sex lips. She tried to let it rest there. If she moved he might stop, might even push her off, but she couldn’t help it, she started writhing and grinding against the hard shape in his trousers until it nudged open her wet slit.