‘I concede you really are very civilized and, yes, I did enjoy myself.’ The champagne she had consumed making her ever so slightly tipsy, she smiled up at him and added, ‘But you are still arrogant.’
‘Maybe, but will you allow me to take you out again tomorrow night?’ he asked formally, but there was nothing formal about the sensual gleam in the black depths of the eyes that held hers as he drew her close.
‘Yes,’ she murmured, and watched in helpless anticipation as his dark head bent and his wide mouth covered hers.
The second kiss was even better than the first and she leant into him with bone-melting enthusiasm, her arms eagerly wrapping around his neck. She felt his great body tense, felt the brush of one hand against the fabric covering her breast as he deepened the kiss, his tongue searching her mouth with a skilful eroticism that sent shuddering sensations of pure pleasure coursing hotly through her slender body.
She inhaled the unique masculine scent of him, trembled with wild excitement at the pleasure of his kiss, a kiss so deep, so passionate, she never wanted to come up for air. When his fingers closed around the strap of her dress she quivered, but made no objection as he peeled the fabric down over her braless breasts.
He raised his head and she didn’t understand his husky words as he palmed her breast, his long fingers grazing over the rosy tip. Her whole body jerked and her head fell back as he lowered his head and his mouth closed over an exposed nipple. Fierce sensations lanced from her breasts to her loins, moisture pooling between her thighs. She groaned out loud as with tongue and teeth he teased her rigid nipples, until she was a quivering mass of heated sensations she had never experienced before, never believed existed until now.
She threaded her hands through his dark hair, and held him to her aching body, wanting more. She felt the gentle trail of his strong hand sliding beneath her skirt, stroking up the silken smoothness of her thigh, felt his long fingers trace the thin strip of lace between her legs. Involuntarily her legs parted and one long finger edged beneath her panties.
‘My God!’ Anton exclaimed, rearing back. ‘What the hell am I doing?’
She stared up at him, her body sprawled back against the seat in total abandonment, her blue eyes glittering wildly and her pale skin flushed with the heat of arousal at the hands of a man for the first time in her twenty-four years. Quickly he smoothed her skirt down over her thighs and hauled her up in the seat, slipping the straps of her dress back over her shoulder, and placing her wrap carefully around her, folding it over her still-tingling breasts.
‘That’s better,’ he said, his dark eyes suddenly shadowed.
Emily’s body still pulsed with sensation, but slowly it dawned on her Anton was no way near as affected.
‘Sorry, Emily, I never meant to take things so far in the car of all places.’ He smoothed a few tendrils of hair from her brow. ‘Damn it to hell, I promised your brother I would look after you.’ He swore.
That did get through to Emily. ‘You promised my brother…’ she exclaimed. ‘You mean Tom had the nerve… I’ll kill him.’ She could not believe her own brother, and her embarrassment at her helpless capitulation to Anton was overtaken by her anger at Tom. ‘He seems to forget I am a grown woman and perfectly able to look after myself.’
‘I’m sure you are,’ Anton agreed. ‘But right now you better get indoors, before I lose control completely,’ he added with a self-derisory grimace as he got out of the car and walked around to open the passenger door. He slipped an arm around her waist and led her to the imposing front door of her home. ‘I won’t come in, I don’t dare.’ Dropping a swift kiss on the top of her head, he added, ‘I’ll call you in the morning.’ He waited as Emily, her head in a whirl of chaotic emotions—embarrassment, anger and, most telling of all, frustration—found her key, opened the door and walked in.
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