Читать книгу The Desert King's Bejewelled Bride - Sabrina Philips - Страница 2



‘The sooner this is over, the better,’ she muttered under her breath, seeing no point in making herself heard.

His fingers were on the handle when she said it, but hear it he did—for in a flash he had turned, his jacket flailing out behind him like some outlaw provoked, and suddenly his face was level with her own and far, far too close.

She could feel his warm breath with startling awareness on her lips. It sent a prickle of excitement down her neck, across her skin and to the straining tips of her breasts. He reached out one finger to touch her jaw, the softness of the gesture mocking as he tilted her chin upwards, his eyes dropping to her mouth.

‘Oh, I will make it better, Tamara,’ he drawled, as if he could sense the sexual frustration teeming beneath her skin. ‘Better than anything you’ve ever experienced before. And it will be soon.’