Читать книгу The Amalfi Bride - Ann Major, Ann Major - Страница 8

Nico liked the way a faint tremor passed through Regina’s body when his arm circled her shoulders and he cradled her close. He liked the way her pulse began to beat madly when he slipped his hand beneath her hair and pressed his mouth to her throat.

“I could still say no, pay you and call this crazy thing off,” she whispered.

“But you don’t want to do that, do you?”

“Not at all.”

He lifted her fingers to his lips and kissed them one by one as he’d done at the bar. As he gently sucked their tips, she shuddered.

He slid a fingertip inside her robe and very slowly pushed it aside a fraction of an inch. “What do you want?” he murmured against her earlobe.

His hand coaxed the thick terry off her shoulder, and she gasped.

“You mean, I get to tell you what I want?”

“You hired me, remember. That was our agreement. I mean…er…bargain. Do you like it straight…or kinky?”

“Kinky? I…I…I’m not sure I know or want to know what you mean by that.”

He laughed. “So what do you want?”

“I…I want you to undress me and then give me a massage and then maybe make love to me very, very slowly.”

“I can’t wait,” he whispered.

He heard her breath catch even before his hand found the terry-cloth tie at her waist and he unthreaded it all the way. He slid the robe off her shoulders, and it tumbled in a heap to the tile floor.