The Helen Bianchin And The Regency Scoundrels And Scandals Collections. Louise AllenЧитать онлайн книгу.
blame them? He was a superb male animal, who possessed more than his share of sexual magnetism. Inherent good looks and an overwhelming aura of power made him a spellbinding challenge few women could ignore.
The lilting music and warm convivial atmosphere of the restaurant were persuasive, and she cast him a faintly wistful smile.
‘Would you like to try the dance-floor?’
She looked helplessly at the small square of parquetry that held one couple, then inclined her head in silent acquiescence.
Minutes later she wasn’t so sure it was a good idea. Her right hand lay supported between her breasts, while the fingers of her left hand rested against his shoulder. His hands were loosely linked behind her hips, forming a protective cage, and this close she could sense his body-warmth beneath the sophisticated mantle of his clothes.
His movements were sure, fluid, his strength a potent entity as he guided her with effortless ease. The keyboard player sang a hauntingly slow ballad, and to her surprise her steps didn’t falter once, although her breathing quickened in tempo with her fast-beating pulse.
Warm heat spread through her veins, suffusing her body until she was aware of every sensory pleasure-spot, and a deep aching need that cried out for his touch.
She felt his hands shift to curve over the slight swell of her bottom as the ballad finished and another began, even more poignant than the last. Seconds later, she felt the brush of his lips against her hair as they trailed down to settle at her temple, and her stomach executed a tiny somersault, then went into a series of crazy flips as his warm breath stirred a few stray tendrils close to her ear.
Slowly she lifted her head, her eyes skimming the broad column of his throat to take in the firm contours of his mouth, the straight patrician nose, the sculpted cheekbones, and lastly his intensely dark eyes.
What she glimpsed there deepened the colour already staining her cheeks, and her mouth trembled slightly as she sought to put some distance between them.
He immediately loosened his hold, allowing one arm to curve lightly round her back as he led her from the floor.
‘Another drink?’ Alejandro queried when they were seated.
Something cool, icy, she qualified silently. ‘Please,’ she accepted. ‘Lemonade with a dash of lime.’
He ordered coffee for himself, and she sipped the contents of her glass, contrarily wanting the evening to be over, yet strangely hesitant to leave the restaurant.
Why so apprehensive? she reiterated to herself as the Bentley cruised smoothly towards Palm Beach. There was no medical reason why they shouldn’t resume intimacy, and to be so racked with nerves was ridiculous.
‘Do you want to share?’
The sound of his voice startled her, and she turned towards him in silent query.
‘Your thoughts,’ Alejandro elaborated as he eased the large vehicle into the driveway, then activated the remote control to raise the garage doors.
Dear heaven, had he guessed? What would he say if she said she was scared stiff…of him in the role of lover? More than likely he would be mildly amused, she decided wretchedly.
As soon as the car came to a halt she released the seatbelt and slid to her feet, waiting as he sprang the locking system before crossing to her side as they entered the house.
Once indoors she made straight for the stairs, only to come to an abrupt halt as his hand closed over her elbow and he turned her round to face him.
His eyes were faintly hooded, his tone a deceptively soft drawl. ‘You’re reacting like a skittish kitten, unsure whether to leap and run, or stay.’
‘Perhaps because that’s how I feel.’
‘You find my touch abhorrent?’
Oh, my, nothing like aiming straight for the jugular. ‘No,’ she disclaimed quietly. ‘But I’m not ready to sleep with you.’
‘We already sleep together.’ His voice was so dangerously quiet that it sent an icy shiver scudding down her back.
Dull pink streaked her cheeks. He was fully aware of the havoc he was creating, and she hated him for the deliberate assault on her ambivalent emotions.
‘You know that isn’t what I meant.’
He caught hold of her chin between thumb and forefinger, tilting it so that she had to look at him.
She couldn’t articulate a single word, and it was difficult to swallow the lump that had suddenly risen in her throat. Her eyes felt large and impossibly wide as she watched his head descend, and she was incapable of movement as he angled his mouth to settle over hers in a kiss that claimed his possession, savouring it in a manner that alternated between gentleness and restrained savagery.
Elise told herself she should be shocked. Instead, she became caught up in a tide of deep primitive need.
One hand cradled her face, the other cupped her bottom as he pulled her hard against him. Evidence of his arousal was a hard, throbbing entity, and she gave a faint moan of protest as his mouth took on a light teasing quality, then slowly withdrew.
She could only look at him, totally ignorant of the deep slumberous quality evident in her eyes. Her lips felt swollen, and she could have sworn they trembled beneath the intentness of his dark gaze.
It was as if time stood still, for she wasn’t conscious of anything except the man: his eyes, the sensual curve of his mouth, the hard planes of his jaw, the strength of his chin, the texture of his skin.
He didn’t say a word for what seemed an age, then he leaned forward, swept an arm beneath her knees and lifted her against his chest.
Sensation curled deep inside her stomach and began radiating through her body as he mounted the stairs to the upper floor.
On entering their suite he closed the door, slid off her shoes, then carefully set her down on her feet. Lifting a hand, he slowly traced the contours of her mouth, probing the softness with a gentleness that made her catch her breath.
‘I want to make love with you.’
Her eyes dilated and her pulse began to kick in a quickened beat. She wanted to voice her nervousness, but the words never left her lips.
His eyes held hers as he shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over a chair, then he loosened his tie and discarded it before unfastening the buttons on his shirt. Next came his shoes and socks.
Elise couldn’t look away as his fingers unbuckled his belt, slid free the slim metal clasp, then freed the zip on his trousers.
Black silk briefs rode low on his hips, barely containing the turgid rigidity of his manhood, and awareness arrowed from her feminine core, focused and so intense that she was unable to suppress a slight shiver that spiralled down her spine.
Slowly he closed the distance between them, took her left hand in his, and led her to the bed. His touch was warm and strong, and she uttered no protest as he sat on the mattress’s edge and drew her close.
Her eyes were almost on a level with his, and she felt mesmerised by the dark gleaming passion evident as he lifted a hand and lightly traced the contours of her face.
The touch of his fingers against her skin was electric, and she swallowed convulsively as they trailed down the column of her throat and traversed a path to the edge of her top.
He freed one button, then the next, until the edges hung loose, and she uttered a faint gasp as he brushed the full curve of her breast.
‘The thought of doing this has driven me to edge of sanity,’ Alejandro said huskily. ‘All evening, every movement you made emphasised their unfettered state.’ With extreme care he eased the blouse free and tossed it to join his discarded clothes.
‘Beautiful,’ he whispered, gently shaping the creamy fullness, testing its weight as he lightly