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One Night With The Italian Doc: Unwrapping Her Italian Doc / Tempted by the Bridesmaid / Italian Doctor, No Strings Attached. Carol MarinelliЧитать онлайн книгу.

One Night With The Italian Doc: Unwrapping Her Italian Doc / Tempted by the Bridesmaid / Italian Doctor, No Strings Attached - Carol  Marinelli


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resist, once Stephanie had gone, asking Rory a question.

      ‘Is it Stephanie?’

      ‘Who?’

      ‘The woman you like.’

      ‘God.’ Rory rolled his eyes. ‘Why did I ever say anything?’

      ‘Because we’re friends.’

      ‘Just drop it,’ Rory said. ‘And, no, it’s not Stephanie.’ He let out a laugh at Louise’s suggestion. ‘She’s married with two children.’

      ‘Maybe that’s why you have to keep it so quiet.’

      ‘Louise, it’s not Stephanie and you are to leave this alone.’ He looked at Anton. ‘She’s relentless.’

      ‘She is.’

      Louise pulled a face at Rory’s departing back and then turned and it was just she and Anton.

      ‘Do you want a drink?’ Anton asked.

      ‘No, thanks,’ Louise said. ‘I’ve had one snowball too many.’

      ‘What are you drinking?’ Anton asked, because he had seen the pale yellow concoction she had been drinking all night.

      ‘Snowballs—Advocaat, lemonade and lime juice,’ she pulled a face.

      ‘You don’t like them?’

      ‘I like the idea of them,’ Louise said, and then her attention was shot as a song came on. ‘Ooh, I love this one …’

      ‘Of course you do.’

      ‘No, seriously, it’s my favourite.’

      It was dance with her or watch her dance alone.

      ‘I thought we were being discreet?’ Louise said.

      ‘It’s just a dance,’ Anton said, as she draped her arms round his neck. ‘But Rory’s right—you are relentless.’

      ‘I know I am.’ Louise smiled.

      They were as discreet as two bodies on fire could be, just swaying and looking at each other and talking.

      ‘I want to kiss you under the mistletoe,’ Anton said.

      ‘I assume we’re not talking about the sad bunch hanging at the bar.’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Did you know these stockings come with matching underwear?’

      ‘I do,’ Anton said, ‘I saw your work in the magazine.’

      ‘Did you like?’

      ‘I like.’ Anton nodded. ‘As I said, I want to kiss you under the mistletoe.’

      ‘I am so turned on.’ She stated the obvious because he could feel every breath that blew from her lips, he could see her pulse galloping in her neck as well as the arousal in her eyes.

      ‘Good.’

      ‘We need to leave,’ Louise said.

      ‘I’m going to go and speak to Brenda and then leave, and you’re going to hang around for a little while and then we meet at my car.’

      ‘I live a two-minute walk from here,’ Louise said.

      ‘Okay …’

      She loved his slow smile as she gave him her address. ‘I’ll slip the key into your coat pocket,’ Louise said. ‘You can go and put the kettle on.’

      ‘I shall.’

      ‘Please don’t,’ Louise said. ‘I meant—’

      ‘Oh, I get what you meant.’

      Anton said his goodbyes and chatted with Brenda for an aching ten minutes, though on the periphery of his vision he could see Louise near the coats but then off she went, back to the dance floor.

      Anton headed out into the night and found her home very easily. Louise had left the heating on. She loathed coming home to a cold house and a furnace of heat hit Anton as he opened the door as well as the dazzle of decorations, which were about as subtle as Louise.

      And as for the bedroom!

      Anton couldn’t help but smile as he stepped inside Madame Louise’s chamber. He looked at the crushed velvet bed that matched the crushed velvet chair by the dressing table and he looked at the array of bottles and make-up on it.

      Anton undressed and got into her lovely bed. He had never met someone so unabashed and he liked that about her, liked that she was who she was.

      Louise had never been more in demand than in the ten minutes at the end of the party. Everyone, everyone wanted her to stop for a chat, and just as she finally got her coat on and was leaving, Brenda suggested they drop over to Louise’s as some work dos often ended up there.

      ‘I can’t tonight,’ Louise said. ‘Mum’s over.’

      ‘Your mum?’

      ‘I think she and Dad had a row,’ Louise lied, but she had to, as her mind danced with a sudden vision of a naked Anton in the hallway greeting half of the maternity staff. ‘It’s a bit of a sensitive point.’

      Louise texted him as she walked out.

      I just told the biggest lie

      Should I be worried that there is a crib in your bedroom? Anton texted back.

      She laughed because she had already told him it was for Emily’s baby and it was wrapped in Cellophane too, so she continued the tease.

      Aren’t we making a baby tonight? Louise fired back. Get here!!!

      She waved as a car carrying her friends tooted, trying not to run on shaky, want-filled legs, and almost breaking her ankle as she walked far too fast for her stilettoes.

      She could barely get the key in the door, just so delighted by the turn of events—that they were going to put other things on hold and simply enjoy. Her coat dropped to the floor as she stepped into the bedroom and there he was, naked in her bed and a Christmas wish came true.

      ‘Who’s been sleeping in my bed?’ Louise smiled.

      ‘No sleeping tonight,’ Anton said. ‘Come here.’

      Louise was not shy; she went straight over, kneeling on her bed and kissing him without restraint.

      It was urgent.

      Anton was at the tie of her dress as their mouths bruised each other’s. He tried to peel it off over arms that were bent because she was holding his head, tonguing him, wanting him, but there was something she first had to do.

      ‘I have to take my make-up off.’

      ‘I’ll lick it off.’

      ‘Seriously.’ She could hardly breathe, she was somehow straddling him, her dress gaped open and it would be so much easier not to reach for the cold cream. ‘It’s not vanity, it’s work ethic—I’ll look like a pizza for my photo shoot otherwise …’

      She climbed off the bed and shed her dress and Anton got the full effect of her stunning underwear, and as beautiful as the pictures had been he far preferred the un-airbrushed version.

      Louise sat on her chair and slathered her face in cold cream, quickly wiping it off and wishing she hadn’t worn so much mascara. Just as she had finished she felt the chair turn and she was face to groin with a naked Anton.

      ‘Poor Anton,’ Louise said.

      ‘Not any more,’ Anton said, as she started to stroke him. She went to lower her head but he was starting to kneel.

      ‘Stay …’ Louise said, because she wanted to taste him.

      ‘You can have it later.’

      He


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