Married For Convenience: Forgotten Husband / The Marriage Arrangement / The Husband Test. HELEN BIANCHINЧитать онлайн книгу.
been struck by the lightning of instant attraction, aware of the swift invasive pull of sheer physical desire, and engulfed by its powerful magnetism.
By day she had fought him, hating him for being able to hold her captive to her own desire, hating herself for being so easily entrapped by the dictates of her own flesh…By night she lost the fight and revelled in the magic of his touch.
Would it ever be any different between them? It had been, she reflected sadly. For six short weeks she had believed him to be a caring, loving husband. A man who had devoted all of his time to her, and shown her incredible tendresse.
Had it been real? Or merely an act? She would probably never know.
Oh, hell, she cursed, as her eyes filled and tears began to trickle down both cheeks. She hardly ever cried. Except when her father had died. Dammit, her hormones must be raging some sort of inner war with her emotional heart. To be this stricken with tears was crazy.
Futile, she amended, timeless minutes later when she appeared all cried out. The spent emotion made her sleepy, and she snuggled deeper into the chair and rested her head in the curve of one arm.
It was there Alejandro found her, and he stood for a long time looking down at the graceful arch of her slender neck illuminated by the bedside lamp, the softness of her hair as it clung to her neck, the slender curves beneath the simple white cotton nightgown. And the faint evidence of tears.
Slowly he discarded his clothes, then he crossed back to the chair and carefully lifted her into his arms.
Elise stirred, aware in the depths of her subconscious that something was different. Whereas the cushioned chair was softly padded, now there was the warmth of hard muscular flesh beneath her head. She was aware of a deep rhythmic heartbeat, and an arm curving her close against a long male body. Fingers traced a light transient pattern over her hair, and she felt the brush of lips against her temple.
A soft sigh emerged from her lips, and almost in reflex action her arm crept out to encircle his waist.
His mouth was beautifully chiselled, and she knew exactly how it felt against her own. Even thinking about it brought alive the flicker of desire, igniting from her central core and licking treacherously along every nerve in her body.
Of its own accord her head angled slightly, the soft curves of her mouth parting to accept a kiss that began with incredible gentleness. Teasing, provocative, and profoundly seductive.
There was no thought of denying him, or herself, and she exulted in each caress, the overwhelming bewitching rapture as he guided her towards fulfilment—seismic, earth-shattering, a surrender to the sensual delights of passion.
It was the one level on which they communicated. No discord, no sense of disappointment. Just beautiful intimacy. Sex, she corrected, all too aware of the difference.
‘Drop me anywhere along Oxford Street, José,’ Elise declared. ‘It’s a beautiful day, and I feel like walking.’
The Pajero eased through the traffic-lights and pulled into a parking bay. ‘What time, and where shall I collect you?’
‘I’ll get a taxi back,’ she said lightly, unwilling to put a curfew on the day. Who knew how long lunch with Siobhan would extend? And besides, she might want to explore the shops for a while.
‘Perhaps you will ring when you are ready?’ José suggested on an anxious note. ‘Alejandro would insist.’
Alejandro could insist all he liked! ‘I’ll let you know,’ she conceded, feeling only slightly guilty that she had no intention of calling José. She proffered a warm smile, then opened the door and stepped down on to the pavement, waiting only a few seconds after he pulled out into the traffic before making her way towards the next street.
Siobhan was waiting for her, and they hugged each other as if it was years instead of several weeks since they had last seen each other.
‘You look fantastic,’ Siobhan declared as they entered the restaurant. The maître d’ took them to a table with views of the harbour, handed them each a menu, then left them to make a selection. ‘How is your hand?’
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