Everything that had seemed so wrong, so fearful, so utterly beyond her reach, suddenly seemed the most natural thing in the world. She stood watching as Roman undid his belt and left it hanging as he tugged his shirt over his head.
She was in awe of his body. Muscled and hard and tanned, he was magnificent. She wondered then about the simple gold chain he wore around his neck. Roman was such an understated man. Even his wristwatch was plain steel without any of the dials and gizmos she’d noticed other men appeared to need. And the chain was delicate, while Roman Quisvada was most definitely not.
His muscles flexed in the moonlight, which shimmered around him as if even the light was drawn to such a magnificent form.
Her heart leapt when he snapped his belt free from its loops and tossed it aside. Kicking off his shoes, he slid his chinos down deeply tanned, hard-muscled thighs. Naked now apart from a pair of black silk boxers, with his thick black hair in wild disarray, he looked more the barbarian than ever. He was so much taller than she was—so much bigger in every way. She liked the sense of feeling small and protected, and being wanted by a warrior such as this. The width of his shoulders, the washboard stomach, the narrow waist, the legs that seemed banded by steel—he was more than impressive, though she quickly looked away from other contours, lovingly defined beneath the finest silk.
‘You’re beautiful, Eva.’ Reaching out, he touched her hair with such tenderness.
She held her breath as tension sizzled round them. She hadn’t stood in front of many men wearing a see-through bra and a thong, if any, and drank in Roman’s frank approval. But could she match up to his expectations? She glanced at the bed, wondering about all the impossibly glamorous and sophisticated women he must have known. She drew in a shaking breath. This was crazy. But what would life be without a little crazy in it?
Roman’s lazy gaze had a touch of warmth and humour, and it was that that relaxed her. It also made her shiver uncontrollably with lust. She wanted to be close to him. She wanted him to touch her and to draw her into his arms. She wanted to nestle there, rest there...belong there.
Maybe he sensed this, or maybe he wanted it too. She huffed a laugh inwardly. As if. And then asked herself impatiently, why could Eva Skavanga be so bold in every area of her life except this?
Taking hold of her hand, he drew her towards him. What he did next surprised her. He guided her sensitive thumb pad across the kiss-swollen swell of her bottom lip.
‘Do you feel that, Eva?’
She felt it in her core.
The corner of Roman’s mouth had kicked up as if he felt her responses as if they were his own.
‘And what about this?’ he prompted.
He took her hand on another sensual journey, and the intensity of sensation made her gasp as he moved the flat of her palm slowly across her nipples. And all the time he held her stare firmly in his, so he could watch her reaction, while her own arousal was heightened by the approval in his eyes. At one time this would have seemed so wicked and wrong, but with Roman, no. He was making her do this to help her accept that she could feel and that she could respond without fear. The sensation was indescribably good, and had a direct link to other places, prompting her to squeeze her thighs together, which produced a pulse of pleasure that drew a shaking moan from her throat.
Roman smiled when he heard this. ‘I think you like that,’ he said.
Like could not describe that feeling. She only knew she wanted more.
Sensing this, he took her hand on another journey, this time over the sweep of her belly and down the smooth, warm length of her thighs.
‘I think you like that too,’ he whispered, smiling against her mouth.
‘You know I do,’ she breathed.
And while she was growing bolder on this journey of exploration, Roman was stroking her buttocks, cupping and moulding them and caressing them in a way that made her arch her back and ask for more. There was no fear this time. He was introducing her to possibility, and the promise of a lot more to come. His easy, relaxed manner reassured her that there was no hurry, no test at the end of this, but just an endless capacity for pleasure within her.
‘What do you want most, Eva?’
She exhaled shakily at the sound of Roman’s voice and had to bring herself back to a reality that had expanded beyond her wildest imaginings. ‘I hardly know what I want,’ she admitted honestly. ‘I don’t even know what I can have.’
‘Try to tell me,’ Roman coaxed. ‘Search your deepest fantasies and tell me what you’d like me to do.’
‘Can’t you?’
‘No,’ he whispered, bringing her into the circle of his arms. They were standing by the bed. Roman was holding her with his chin resting lightly on her head.
‘You can’t keep passing the buck and avoiding the issue. You have to spell it out, Eva.’
‘You like to hear it?’ she guessed.
‘Maybe,’ he admitted.
‘You’re merciless, while I’m a shivering wreck?’
‘Shivering with desire,’ Roman murmured, nuzzling her neck.
‘You know me so well.’
‘I can read you, remember?’
‘Touch me,’ she whispered.
‘I am touching you, Eva.’
Yes, and her bones were melting, but it wasn’t enough. Roman knew that, just as she knew there was more—if she could only bring herself to ask. But for once in her headstrong, outspoken life, she couldn’t find the words.
‘Why don’t you show me, if you find that easier?’ Roman suggested.
‘Ramp up the pressure?’
‘Why not?’ he murmured.
He was testing her. But she could do this. She certainly wanted it enough. Finding his hand, she guided him, only to be rewarded by the most fleeting and frustrating brush of his fingertips.
‘That isn’t fair.’
‘Who says so?’ Leaning back, he stared down at her, his voice husky and amused.
‘Then I’ll take you on a journey.’
‘Please.’ His stare was dark and not a bit concerned.
She gasped noisily when he cupped her.
‘Dio, Eva. Do you know how hot you are, how ready, how responsive? Let me pleasure you—’
‘Standing up?’
‘Why not?’
It seemed so wicked, that was why not. And would her legs even hold her?
‘Make it easy for me, Eva...’
Roman’s urgent whisper told her what to do. She put her feet wider, easing her legs apart. She felt shy suddenly. Eva Skavanga, shy. In the short time she’d been on Roman’s island, he had reduced her to a trembling body of need with only one thought in mind, which was relief from the frustration he had provoked.
This was incredible. Resting her head against the firm wall of his chest, she parted her lips to drag in air. And still he was stroking her everywhere except that one place she needed him. ‘You will kill me—’
‘I very much doubt that, Eva.’
A shuddering breath gushed noisily out of her as Roman explored her sensitive flesh with his long, lean fingers, always denying her that final contact she so desperately craved.
‘You’re too eager, Eva. You’re in too much of