Bedroom Seductions: Two Weeks in the Magnate's Bed. Nicola MarshЧитать онлайн книгу.
and she opened it to find the man intruding on her thoughts filling the doorway, looking incredible as usual in full uniform, the gold embroidery on his epaulettes catching the light.
‘Hey, there.’
‘Hi.’
Why was it that every time he caught her unawares her ability to respond coherently vanished as fast as her resistance?
She dropped her gaze, taking in his polished dress shoes, his long legs in formal black trousers and the white jacket ending just below his waist. She usually laughed at men wearing monkey jackets, yet on Zac it accentuated his butt.
‘How did the class go?’
‘Great.’
If she discounted her obsessing over inanimate fitness equipment and how it reminded her of him.
‘Just wanted to let you know I won’t make dinner tonight. Business calls, but maybe we can catch up later? The ship sails at ten, and it’s a magical sight as we pull away from dock, so how about we meet under the bridge then?’
She hesitated. Was this wise? Spending more time with him when he’d said he wanted to get to know her better despite her resistance? Giving him the opportunity to chip away at her emotional barriers even more, to the point where they might disintegrate once and for all?
Maybe it was the wariness he glimpsed in her eyes, maybe the hint of uncertainty tugging at her mouth, but he stepped forward and touched her hand.
‘Come on, you know you’ll miss me at dinner. This way I’m just trying to make up for lost time.’
She laughed, as he’d intended, his charismatic smile disarming her quicker than she could say land ahoy.
‘Okay. I need to sharpen up a few barbs.’
He squeezed her hand before releasing it. ‘Great. I’ll see you there just before ten.’
For the second time in as many minutes she leaned against the closed door, her head filled with Zac, her heart filled with foreboding.
‘Hello, sailor.’
Zac straightened from where he’d been leaning on a railing, a poster boy for the gorgeous nautical male, silhouetted against the bridge, an appreciative gleam in his eyes. A misplaced gleam, considering she wore a boring black calf-length skirt and an olive top which had seen better days.
‘Glad you made it.’
‘Didn’t think I would, huh?’
‘I had my doubts, considering it’s probably past your bedtime.’
She chuckled and waved a finger back and forth in front of him. ‘Hey, I’m supposed to be the one practising barbs, not you.’
‘Maybe we can practise together?’
His voice dropped lower and he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. She shook her head, unable to keep a smile off her face.
‘You’re hopeless.’
‘Your fault.’ He sniffed the air like a hound, coming closer, too close, almost nuzzling her neck. ‘You’re wearing that damn perfume again. Any wonder I’m a broken man? Didn’t I warn you that stuff was dangerous?’
‘It’s the only perfume I own.’
Maybe she could blame the perfume for her gradual melting towards him? Ever since she’d worn it her resistance had slowly but surely unravelled.
His low, sexy chuckle had her clutching the rail for support, all too aware that her collapsing resolve had little to do with the fragrance and more to do with the man staring at her with desire in his eyes.
‘Well, if you keep wearing it you’re definitely heading for a whole lot of trouble.’
Heat flushed her cheeks and she gripped the rail so hard her knuckles stood out. ‘Oooh, I’m scared.’
‘You should be.’
And for one crazy, loaded second as he leaned towards her she almost welcomed the danger of having a guy like him interested in her.
Clearing her throat, she deliberately relaxed her fingers and straightened. ‘So, where’s this magical sight you promised me?’
‘Be careful what you wish for.’
His deep voice rippled over her like a silken caress, and her knees almost buckled right then and there.
As if on cue, the ship’s horn blasted as the massive vessel pulled away from the dock. Suva’s lights twinkled like a fairyland as the ship sailed up the channel, and a gentle breeze fanned her face—a welcome relief for her fiery cheeks.
She was no good at this. Even with him being so nice this afternoon, even with her defences lowered, she still couldn’t throw herself into flirting unreservedly.
Hiding away was a habit of a lifetime. She’d done it as a child, leaving her dad to work through his grief, and she’d done it as a teenager, flying under the radar of her father’s countless girlfriends who had waltzed in and out of a revolving door.
No prizes for guessing where her abhorrence of casual sex came from. Her folks had had the perfect relationship, with their love for each other radiating out to include her. They’d been the epitome of the happy family before that car accident had ripped their lives apart.
Her dad had always assured her she’d come first in his life and she had. He’d mourned her mum for seven long years before dating again. But she had never understood the women who could jump into bed so quickly when her dad made it perfectly clear he wasn’t interested in a relationship—never understood what motivated them to be so free and easy with something she considered a gift.
‘Well, what do you think?’
Her gaze swept the horizon, the sea. Eventually she raised her eyes to meet his, which were firmly fixed on her rather than the view. ‘You’re right. It’s magical.’
His eyes glittered in the moonlight, a sexy smile curved his lips, and the skin behind her ears gave an alarming prickle.
‘You’re not looking at the view,’ she said.
‘I prefer this one.’
She tensed as he lowered his head, barely grazing her lips, and the feather-light kiss sabotaged her initial determination to pull away, rendering her resolve to keep her distance useless.
He kissed her again and again and again, gently increasing the pressure with each kiss as a languorous heat stole from her lips to her fingertips—a heat she’d never experienced, a heat that stole through her body and into her heart.
He hadn’t laid a hand on her, yet every inch of her skin tingled as if he’d caressed it, and their lack of contact only served to increase the pleasure of their lips locked together, tasting, sampling, searching in an endless quest for satisfaction.
But she couldn’t give him satisfaction—at least not the kind a virile man like him wanted, deserved. She pulled away, wishing she was another type of woman, wishing she had the courage to let go of her reservations all at once, throw caution to the wind and see what happened.
‘Definitely magical.’ He touched her lips, still quivering from the impact of his kisses, with a reverent fingertip, gently tracing the contours, undoing her one little stroke at a time.
She needed to reassemble her wits, to say something, but her mind wouldn’t co-operate while her body was still in shock.
‘I take it this is part of your plan to get to know me better?’
As if she’d tripped a silent trigger, the shutters descended over his eyes and his smile faded. ‘Plan?’
She shrugged and wrapped her arms around her middle, suddenly chilled despite the balmy breeze. She had to say this—had to be bluntly honest. It was the only way she knew. ‘You’re trying to seduce me.’