Just For Her. Katherine O' NealЧитать онлайн книгу.
his pinky finger with a magnificent star sapphire. She’d never seen it before.
“That’s a bit out of your price range, isn’t it?”
Nikki, like most of the Russians, had escaped without any money of his own. He’d actually been on the verge of humbling himself by pleading for employment and a place to live when a friend had inquired about his villa.
“What villa?” Nikki had asked.
To which the friend had cried in astonishment, “Why, your villa above Cannes!”
Nikki had bought it on a whim before the war, and had forgotten all about it.
He lived there now, but without any source of income that anyone could discern. He never said how it was that he still managed to live the privileged life he did.
He smiled at her slyly now. “Don’t think, little Juli, that you’re the only one with admirers.” He fingered her pearls. “Ah, but my ring is a mere trinket compared to these. They really are spectacular. My grandmother had some similar, though smaller. Do you recall? I used to pull on them as a child. But she never scolded me. She told me they’d be mine someday, to give to my wife.”
She caught the grief in his eyes. “Poor Nikki. If I thought they could bring back the past for you, I’d almost give them to you.”
He chuckled, dispelling the gloomy mood. “Don’t tempt me. I’m cad enough to take them.”
Jules was discouraged. Hours had passed and still there was no sign of the Panther. No masked man had contrived to get her alone. She hadn’t even seen a likely candidate. She’d even stood outside on the terrace, hoping he might slip away and come to her.
Nothing.
The entire evening had been a waste of time. It was madness to think he’d show up here. Once again, she’d retreated into a world of fantasy that had no bearing with reality.
Feeling hot and tired, she wandered down the terrace stairs, to walk around the side of the house and into the gardens. As she meandered along the curved paths, she found herself in a secluded half-circular alcove. It was dark and she could barely make out the shapes of the two Roman columns that led to a stone wall where a double-arched Gothic window overlooked the rocks and sea below.
She went to the window and leaned her head on the wrought iron railing in front of it, listening to the thrash of the surf against the rocks. The night was cool, as usual, a welcome relief after the cloying heat of the ballroom. In the moonlight, the Mediterranean shimmered with shifting facets, as if sprinkled with diamonds.
She took a deep breath, trying to squelch her disappointment. What was she going to do now that he’d ignored her call? What else could she do to attract his attention? She’d been so certain the Antoinette pearls would lure him out of hiding.
If not that, what?
What an idiot she’d been to think of something so desperate. But what else could she do? DeRohan would return in two days. The thought of that reptilian ogre taking charge of her house, sleeping in her linens, forcing her to serve his imperialistic interests…it was enough to make her flesh crawl.
Realizing that her last futile grasp at a straw of escape had failed, a curtain of despair began to crush in on her.
But all of a sudden, she felt a presence behind her. Before the realization could register, a hand came round to cover her mouth. It was large and strong, muffling any startled sound that might be tempted to escape her lips.
“Cowardly creature of the night, am I?”
The voice in her ear was once more a sultry whisper, as if he were attempting to disguise his true inflection. Again, he spoke in Italian.
She squirmed, trying to disengage his hand and turn to him as her heart swelled. He’d come after all! But his hand on her mouth tightened while the other came up to her shoulder, securing her. “Don’t turn around,” he commanded. “Don’t cry out. Can I trust you?”
She nodded. When he took his hand from her mouth, she made a movement toward him in eagerness, but he gripped her other shoulder, keeping her with her back solidly to him. She accepted the condition and said, “I have to talk to you.”
She felt his breath on her ear. “Talk? You mean the way we—talked the other night?” He began to nibble her ear. “As I recall, you’re a most scintillating conversationalist.”
“Let’s go somewhere where we can sit down…”
He tightened his hands on her. “I said don’t move.” He sucked her earlobe into his mouth, causing a jolt of desire to shoot through her. As she squirmed, trying to move away, his mouth moved lower, kissing the long column of her neck.
“I didn’t summon you for this,” she protested.
“Oh, did you summon me?”
His fingertips were trailing her bare shoulders, one hand playing with her shoulder blade, the other tracing a tempting path down her front, dipping toward the ruffled décolleté of her shepardess gown, causing her to quiver.
“Of course I did. What did you think those newspaper stories were for?”
Distantly, she noted the breathiness of her tone.
Once again he was nibbling at her ear, exploring it with his tongue in a way that made her feel as if she were beginning to melt into a puddle at his feet. “I don’t read the papers,” he told her. “Except for my own notices.”
His hand came up to cup her breast. It felt so good, so treacherously welcome. Against her will, she felt herself leaning back into him, feeling his erection against her derriere. “Please,” she sighed, “I’m drowning.” It was all she could do to get out the words. His touch was playing havoc with her designs. “You must listen to me. Please. I beg you.”
She felt him pulling up the back of her skirts. “Very well,” he said. “Tell me.”
“DeRohan has come back early. He’s moving in. I’ve had a few nights reprieve, but he’ll return the day after tomorrow. He’s taking over my house and my life. I just don’t know how I can bear it. I can’t—”
All at once she stopped. She had no idea how he’d accomplished it, but somehow, as she’d been trying to concentrate on what she was saying, he’d managed to slide her panties down. Now his fingers were playing with her clit in a most deliciously wicked way, chasing the words from her head.
“Are you sure that’s why you summoned me? It couldn’t be that you wanted more of this?”
He shot into her from behind. He was so big, his entry so unexpected, that she gasped aloud. Once again, his hand came round and clamped itself on her mouth.
He plunged into her, thrusting hard, pulling her back against his cast-iron chest to anchor her. His mouth nuzzling her ear, making her head spin.
She reached up and ripped his hand from her mouth. “You’re insane! Someone could come upon us at any time.”
“Now you know what it feels like to steal into houses in the dead of night. The danger…the risk of discovery…the thrill of getting away with something daring and forbidden. It’s the danger that gives it the spice.”
And all the while, he drove himself into her, his fingers playing with her in front, wracking her with shudders of reckless lust, propelling every thought from her brain. Her body on fire, hurled to the brink of madness by the astonishing force of his seduction, thoroughly swept away.
“Once in your life, you should taste the thrill of danger,” he told her. “It electrifies the senses like nothing else. Do you feel it? Give yourself up to it. Feel the cock of a wanted criminal who’s crashed the party beneath the very noses of those who most want him caught. Because that’s what you really wanted, wasn’t it?” He shook her roughly. “Wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” she cried,