Читать книгу 8 Brand-New Romance Authors - Avril Tremayne - Страница 38

CHAPTER SEVEN

RIGHT NOW THAT WAS all Georgina wanted. It was all she could think about. It was as if the gently lapping sea beyond the yacht and the warm breeze had conspired against her. The luxury of everything was feeding the romantic dream she’d long ago abandoned.

But for tonight at least she could live it. Tonight she would live it—would allow herself to taste what she’d never thought possible.

‘What more could a girl ask for from her groom?’

Her heart thumped in her chest and her breathing deepened, so that she had to drag every breath in, but still she couldn’t quite let go of the bravado she always hid behind even as her body yearned for his.

In one swift movement he swept her feet from the floor to hold her firmly in his arms. The silk of her skirt fell apart at the slit and the heat of his fingers on her thigh scorched her skin, bringing a blush to her cheeks.

He swung round so that the tiny spotlights in the yacht’s ceiling blurred behind him as she watched his face. It was set firm, as if his jaw was clenched.

‘Then we will waste no more time.’

The depth of his voice, so sensual, laden with intent, sent a ripple of awareness cascading over her.

She felt every step he took as he marched through the living area. A harsh Spanish curse left his lips as he reached the curving stairs which she guessed led to the bedrooms. Only vaguely aware of her surroundings, she remained focused on his face, but when he looked down at her the intensity of desire burning in his dark eyes made her smile.

He didn’t smile back. His face remained set in firm lines. ‘Damn stairs,’ he growled, and turned his body slightly as he carried her upwards.

She reached up and touched his face, a small sense of triumph shooting through her as he dragged in a ragged breath. His skin was smooth, despite the darkness hinting at fresh stubble growth as her fingers slid down to his neck.

‘You can put me down.’ Her voice was barely above a whisper.

‘Not until I have you where I want you.’

The strength of his words made her shiver with excitement.

As he reached the top of the stairs she looked around her and saw open double doors through which was the most magnificent bedroom she’d ever seen. Briefly she took in the dark mahogany furnishings and the big bed, its cream covers scattered with pink rose petals, as Santos walked briskly towards it.

Gently he placed her on the bed, and she leant back on her arms as he stood like a magnificent bullfighter at the side. She trembled as he looked down at her, his eyes as dark as the depths of the ocean.

Nervousness suddenly washed over her. It had been a long time since she’d been in a situation like this, with a man openly desiring her, his intentions clear. Would he be expecting the practised lover that society thought she was? The temptress she willingly portrayed herself to be?

‘And this is exactly where I want you, querida.’

As the slow, purposeful words came huskily from his lips she watched him undo his tie and drop it to the floor, his jacket soon following.

Hungry for him, she let her gaze devour the strength in his arms as his white shirt pulled tight across his biceps. She bit her lip as he undid the top buttons, exposing dark chest hair and tanned skin. All the while he watched her with such intensity she knew she would be powerless to resist him.

Keeping her gaze locked with his, she reached up to her chignon, but something in his expression stilled her hand. The smouldering passion she saw in his eyes sent a dizzying current through her.

‘Don’t.’

His voice was harsh, and the arrogance that surrounded him maddened and excited her at the same time.

‘But...’ she whispered as he stepped closer to the bed, towering over her, dominating the very air she breathed.

‘I’ve wanted to free your hair all day.’

He knelt on the bed beside her, his weight making her sway towards him as the mattress dipped. Within seconds he’d released the pins that secured her hair and she felt it slide over her shoulders.

‘I’ve wanted to see it around your shoulders in all its glory.’

She closed her eyes against the sensation of his body so close to her, inhaling the intoxicating male scent that was uniquely Santos. When his lips pressed briefly against her shoulder she gasped softly in pleasure.

She opened her eyes and turned to face him, momentarily shocked at how close he was. His handsome face was only inches from hers. ‘Santos...’ she whispered as he kissed her cheek, her forehead, her nose, stoking the ever growing heat deep inside her.

‘I want you, Georgie,’ he husked out between each kiss. ‘I want to make you mine.’

‘I want that too.’ And she did. Nothing else seemed to matter now except the two of them.

He silenced her with a long, lingering kiss that drew every ounce of reservation from her body, replacing it with unadulterated need. A small sound of pleasure escaped her lips as he broke the kiss, only to be smothered as his lips claimed hers in another greedy kiss that rocked her to the core.

* * *

Santos shook with need as he deepened the kiss. Never before had he felt as if he was on the edge of control with a woman—but then never before had a woman played so hard to get.

Her hand touched the side of his face, her palm pressing his cheek as she kissed him back, need for need, her tongue teasing his. He broke free of the kiss and looked at her full lips, already bruised from his kisses, then to her eyes, darker than he’d ever seen them.

She moved back from him, further up the bed, and a hot stab of lust grabbed him as her slender legs were exposed yet again. Teasing and testing him. He took hold of her foot and slowly undid one sandal, pulling it from her before tossing it to the floor.

She smiled and for a moment he thought he saw shyness in her eyes, but then it was gone as she lifted her other foot. He took it, and again slowly removed the sandal, but this time he didn’t let go of her ankle. Unable to help himself, he smoothed his palm up her leg, past her knee, until it slid underneath the silk of her dress. A dress he desperately wanted to remove from her.

She closed her eyes and dropped her head back against the bed, a look of total abandon on her face as his hand slid higher. The warmth of her skin was almost too much for him. Patience, he urged himself. This was a night to take it slowly. This was a woman to savour.

He reluctantly moved his hand down her thigh, past her knee and back to her shapely ankle.

‘How does a man get his wife out of her wedding gown?’

His voice was uneven and ragged. He was using every last bit of control just to stop himself from taking her right now.

‘At the back.’

The words were a tremulous whisper, serving only to excite him further. He was used to his lovers being bold, but he liked this air of innocence she’d adopted.

She sat forward, waiting for him to unzip the gown. Sitting back on his heels, he steadied himself as he reached behind her and undid a clasp, then slid the zip down her back. His anticipation almost boiled over with every breath she breathed against his naked chest. Her scent invaded his senses and he dragged in a deep breath, tasting her.

At last the bodice of the gown sagged around her and he moved back, catching a glimpse of creamy soft breasts as it slipped lower. Part of him wanted to rip the gown from her, but a more disciplined part of him wanted to savour the moment, to make it special for both of them. It was, after all, their wedding night.

He kissed her, pushing her back against the pillows as his tongue delved deeper into her mouth. She tasted of champagne and his senses fizzed like a shaken bottle. Her arms wound their way around his neck, pulling him down to her, pressing against her.

He spread his hand over her bare shoulder, enjoying the feel of her skin, then slowly slid it downwards—until he met the resistance of the gown’s bodice and wished he had ripped it from her.

She moved beneath him, thrusting her breasts upwards, inviting him to touch them—an invitation he had no trouble in accepting. His hand pushed aside the bodice, cupping her breast, his thumb and finger rubbing over the hardened nipple.

‘Oh, Santos,’ she whispered against his lips as her body arched even more. Need rocked through him.

Words failed him as he kissed down her throat, over her collarbone and down to her breast, finally taking her nipple in his mouth as her fingers ploughed through his hair. But still it wasn’t enough. He wanted more—much more.

He pulled himself away from her, smiling at the disappointment on her face as he did so. ‘This has to go.’ He took hold of the bodice of her gown and pulled. Her breasts were slowly revealed, and then, almost erotically, her flat stomach and her beautifully shaped hips were laid bare to his hungry gaze. ‘So beautiful, mi esposa.’

She smiled at him. And again that shyness he’d glimpsed earlier was in her face as she lay partially naked before him.

He kissed her stomach, revelling in his mastery as her body arched towards him again, begging him for more even if the words didn’t come from her lips. Still lower his kisses went, until he found the silk of her panties. She bucked wildly beneath him then, almost undoing the control he was desperately hanging on to.

He looked up at her, at her dark hair spread about her on the pillow in sexy disarray, eyes closed as she enjoyed his touch. No sign of shyness now.

Agilely he rose from the bed, amused at the expression on her face as she looked at him, questions in her gorgeous eyes. As he pulled the wedding gown down she lifted her bottom, enabling him to pull it away in one go, leaving her dressed in only cream silk panties.

She looked divine.

And she was his.

‘It’s not very fair if you remain dressed, is it?’ Her smile was coy and teasing as she looked up at him, completely at ease with her near nakedness. An accomplished temptress.

He undid the remainder of his shirt buttons with deft fingers and pulled it from his body. Her gaze roved hungrily over his body before finally meeting his eyes, and passion charged around him as his heart thundered like a herd of wild horses.

The air was electrified and he pulled off the remainder of his clothes without breaking eye contact. Her eyes were sending him a secret message of desire and need. How had he ever thought this woman cold?

* * *

Georgina couldn’t help but look at him. Arrogantly naked before her, confidence in every move he made. She knew he’d achieved his aim. He’d made her desire him, want him completely. Every nerve in her body ached for his touch and being naked to his gaze excited her. Never before had she wanted a man as she wanted Santos.

Shyness took over once more, but she tried to act as if being naked in front of a man—a man as naked as she was, who so obviously desired her—was something she was more than used to. She watched as he sat back on the bed, his legs astride hers, rendering movement almost impossible. His aroused body was magnificent, and so very tantalisingly close to her, intensifying the rush of need, of raw desire she’d never known before.

He hooked a finger in the top of her panties, his gaze locking with hers. ‘These too.’

Before she could say or do anything he’d pulled them down. The silk slid from her effortlessly and, in what she could only guess was a well-practised manoeuvre, he pulled them from her legs and threw them to the floor without moving from her at all.

She was exposed, naked and vulnerable, but for the first time in her life she didn’t care. All she cared about right at this moment was satisfying the burning need she had for this man.

Her husband.

Her body ached for the fulfilment of his body. She wanted him in a way she’d never dreamt possible, and sparks of excitement at the prospect of being his shot round her.

He bent low over her and kissed her stomach before moving down further, his breath warm, sending fire gushing through her. She closed her eyes to the pleasure of his exploration. When she thought she couldn’t take it any more his kisses moved back up her stomach to her breasts. In turn he kissed each hardened nipple. He pushed first one knee between her legs, then the other and, giving herself up to an instinct as old as time itself, she opened her legs, wanting to feel him deep inside her, desperate to be at one with him.

Her fingers gripped his shoulders as his erection nudged her moistness. He lowered himself onto her, kissing her as his body shook with the effort of holding back. She felt his heated hardness teasing her, and then, just when she thought she couldn’t take one more second of it, he thrust deep inside her. She gasped at the pleasure of his possession, her fingers gripping ever tighter to his shoulders as she moved with him. Her legs wrapped around him, pulling him deeper into her, and he groaned in Spanish and thrust harder, deeper.

Their rhythm increased until she couldn’t help but cry out in joy. A new and exciting sensation washed over her and she opened her eyes to look out of the sloping windows above the bed, feeling as if she too were flying among the stars that now sparkled above her in the night sky.

Santos’s body shook and he cried out before burying his head in her hair, his body pressing hers into the bed. She wrapped her arms tightly around his back, keeping him there, wanting to feel him deep within her.

Finally her heart-rate began to slow and her breathing returned to normal. Santos lifted his head and looked into her eyes. ‘Now you’re truly my wife, Georgie.’

She didn’t know what to say—what to do, even—so she just smiled back, her body still too sluggish with the aftermath of passion.

Santos rolled off and away from her and the cool evening air shocked her naked body, making her shiver. He reached down, grabbed a throw from the bottom of the bed, pulled it up over them and, to her total amazement, pulled her close.

She hadn’t expected this. She’d thought he would disappear to the bathroom and come back partially clothed, ready to move on from what they’d just shared. Was this relaxed closeness part of his idea of no pretence? Was this the real man he didn’t want the world to see?

‘I should have asked this sooner,’ he said, his voice sounding strangely unsure, and she wondered what was coming next. ‘But we didn’t use any contraception.’

‘It’s okay,’ she whispered softly, and trailed her fingers down his arm, feeling a thrill of excitement when he groaned and pulled her close against him. Her mind quickly raced, wondering where her handbag was. Thankfully she’d put her contraceptive pills in there when she’d hurriedly packed for Spain. Not that she’d thought she’d actually need their protection. ‘It’s sorted.’

He stiffened slightly. ‘Even so, I should have at least asked, but—’

‘Don’t worry. There won’t be any repercussion from tonight. Just sleep.’ She kissed him lingeringly on the lips, feeling the tension slip from him. Finding herself pregnant was not an option she relished, and she was certain he’d feel the same. ‘Relax, Santos, try and sleep.’

He kissed her, pulling her close against his nakedness, stirring slumbering desire again. ‘How can I sleep with you naked next to me?’

‘At least for a while,’ she teased as he kissed her again, his hands smoothing over her back.

She closed her eyes against the rising need for him, determined to play it cool. He must never know just how much she wanted him at this moment.

As he slept his breathing became deeper and steadier, and in the dim light of the bedroom she could see his naked back. Her fingers were desperate to touch him again, to create a trail over his tanned skin. The temptation became too much and she moved, but as soon as she did his relaxed hold on her tightened and he mumbled something in Spanish. It was enough to stop her.

Instead she lay and looked up at the night sky through the sloping windows just above the bed. The motion of the yacht was soothing and finally she relaxed, after what felt like days of being on edge, waiting for Santos to pull out of their agreement. They were married. The deal was well and truly sealed.

Tomorrow she’d call Emma, tell her to make plans for her own wedding. She smiled, remembering the morning she’d first met Santos. His arrogance and undeniable air of authority had almost made her turn and run from his office. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought that the man she’d proposed to as part of a business deal would end up being the first man she’d ever wanted—really wanted. The first man to show her just how good loving could be. The first man she could love, if only she let herself.

He didn’t love her and had gone to extreme lengths to tell her he couldn’t love anyone. He might have discarded pretence for the night, but would tomorrow be different?

Santos murmured again, pulling her against him and kissing her hair, sending a rush of heat through her body. Firmly she closed her eyes against the new wave of desire that was washing over her—because surely tomorrow it would be different.

Tomorrow she had to focus on Emma, on making sure Santos kept his side of the deal.

* * *

Santos woke in the early hours of dawn, his body heavy and relaxed in a way he’d never felt before. Georgina’s scent lingered on the pillow next to him, reawakening the desire that had coursed like an overflowing river through him last night.

From the other side of the room he heard movement and he propped himself up on his elbow. With amusement he watched as Georgina, sexily naked, appeared to be looking for something to put on. He took in her slender waist, shapely hips and long legs as she stood, her back to him, looking around the room.

‘Buenos dias, mi esposa.’ My wife—that was something he’d never thought he’d call a woman.

She turned to face him and despite her nakedness looked as in control as she always did. For him, last night had changed something, softened the way he felt about her, but apparently it was not the same for her. She looked as if finding herself naked in a man’s room was perfectly normal. A situation she was well used to.

‘Morning,’ she replied huskily, a smile playing about her kissable lips. ‘I was looking for something to put on.’

‘Your bag is in the wardrobe, but you will also find everything else you need in there too.’

Transfixed, he watched as she walked across the room, the swell of her breasts causing the blood to pound in his veins. If she didn’t put something on very quickly she’d find herself back in his bed.

‘Very convenient.’

The hint of sarcasm in her words was not lost on him. Keeping an array of women’s clothes in his villa or on his yacht was not something he’d done before—but then catering for a future wife was not something he’d had to do either.

‘I was merely trying to think of your convenience, querida.’

She opened the door of the wardrobe, assessed the contents, then opted for a cream silk dressing gown. She slipped it on and pulled it tight around her, knotting the belt at her stomach. The garment should have doused the fire now raging in his body, but it didn’t. The outline of her body, still clearly visible, was more teasing than seeing her naked.

‘Come here.’ His voice was gruff and husky as desire pumped through him.

Instantly she looked shy, a blush creeping over her face, and he wondered which was the act. The bravado he saw more often or the innocent shyness she now displayed.

Slowly she walked towards the bed, her eyes darkening, remaining locked with his. He reached towards her, grabbed her hand and pulled her down to the bed.

‘Santos!’ she gasped in shock. ‘What are you doing?’

‘I would have thought that was obvious, querida.’ As she lay beside him on the bed, her breathing faster, her breasts rising and falling in the most erotic way, he pulled the belt undone and pushed aside the silk, exposing her delicious body. ‘I’m going to make love to my wife.’

Those words lit a raging fire inside him.

Unable to analyse those feelings now, he silenced her with a kiss so hard and deep he almost couldn’t breathe. His need for her was far greater than last night—as if now he’d tasted her he needed more, like some kind of addict. Her hands explored his body, pushing aside the sheet and touching him until he couldn’t stand it any longer. Urgently he pushed her back against the bed, covering her body with his as he thrust hard and deep within her delicious warmth.

It was as if his whole world rocked as he climaxed, relishing the feeling of being deep inside her. She cried out, her body arching towards him as she too found release. As his heartrate slowed and his mind regained the ability to think he realised he’d done the one thing he’d never done before. Early-morning sex. It gave women the wrong message. Made them think he wanted more.

But Georgina was already his wife. What more could she want from him?

He lay back, exhausted and exhilarated at the same time, his breathing and heart-rate finally returning to normal, and contemplated what had happened. Because something had changed, but he just couldn’t understand what.

* * *

‘I’ll just go and shower.’ More vulnerable than ever, Georgina wanted to put a little distance between herself and this man’s magnetism.

‘Don’t be too long, querida.’ He smiled at her, sending her senses into a spin as her heart flipped over.

Instead of answering him, she slipped from the bed with a bold teasing smile, grabbed her abandoned dressing gown and headed for the bathroom.

How on earth was she going to cope with today after what they’d shared last night? Would his rule of no pretence continue into the first day of their married life, or would he return to being the arrogant and controlling man she knew he was?

The hot water of the shower did little to ease her worries and she knew she had to talk to Emma. Just to hear her sister’s voice would reaffirm why she’d married Santos.

With a towel wrapped round her body she emerged from the bathroom to find the bedroom empty. Quickly she reached into the wardrobe for her bag and pulled out her phone to see Emma had sent her a message.

OMG Georgie! You and Santos!

As she read the text from her sister she could almost hear her voice, the laughter in it—relief, even—and quickly she called Emma.

‘Georgie!’ Emma’s excited voice was so vibrant it was as if it was on loudspeaker.

‘Emma, I so wish you could be here, but...’ Georgina swallowed. The first lie was about to leave her lips. ‘We just had to get away and be alone.’

‘You’re really happy?’

‘Do you think I’d jet off to Spain if not? After all that I’ve been through?’ Thoughts of Richard mixed with the lies she was telling, the web of deceit she was spinning. It’s for Emma, she reassured herself.

‘Then I’m happy for you—but can you do one thing for me?’

‘Anything for you, Emma.’ That at least was true.

‘Don’t come back just yet. Carlo and I... Well, we’re going to arrange our wedding, and if Santos finds out he’s sure to put a stop to it. He’s so against us getting married.’

Georgina swallowed hard. She should tell Emma. Instead she lightened her voice. ‘We’re enjoying our time together.’ Was that a lie? she wondered as her body warmed at the memory of last night—her wedding night. ‘Do you really think we’re going to rush back to London?’

As she ended the call she let out a big sigh—relief that her sister and Carlo were now actually able to plan their wedding. She wished she’d been able to tell Emma that Santos was now her brother-in-law, but that was the kind of news to tell her face to face, when they got back to London.

Anxiety rose up. Just how was she going to convince Santos that heading back to reality was not what he wanted to do?