Shock laced with excitement fizzed in her veins as he raised his brows, slowly and suggestively. Once more he kissed her fingers, each time lingering longer, until she couldn’t stand the anticipation any more.
He stood up from the table, keeping a tight hold on her hand, and pulled her up against him, holding her close.
Music began to drift around the room, reminding her that they were far from alone, that the crew and staff were lingering in the background to do his bidding. The disappointment she felt at not being totally alone with him shocked her. She wanted what they’d shared over the last few days.
‘It is a tradition, is it not, for the bride and groom to dance together?’
He was so close now she could smell fresh pine mixed with the musky scent of pure male. It was intoxicating.
‘In England it is, yes.’ Her voice was little more than a husky whisper.
‘Then we dance.’
He walked away from the table, guiding her to the middle of the room as the gentle rhythm of the music continued. When he held her close once more her knees threatened to give way, so intense was the attraction between them. It was an attraction that had been stamped out several times already, but Georgina knew this time it was going to be different—because this time she wanted him with a fever that engulfed her whole body. He was her husband now, and despite trying not to she had feelings for him.
This was how a bride should feel, and she pushed back memories of the clinical registry office service when she’d married Richard. It might only be for this one night, but she knew she had to live for the moment—had to surrender herself to it completely. This could be her one chance of sampling such heady romance.
As those thoughts flickered to life in her mind Santos kissed her—a soft, lingering kiss that held the promise of passion, one that awakened every nerve in her body. She deepened the kiss, closing her eyes against the onslaught of pleasure which crashed over her like waves onto the beach as she pressed close against him, feeling the evidence of his desire.
Breaking the kiss, he began to move her slowly around the room to the sound of the music. How could a dance be so erotic, so loaded with sexual tension and the promise of passion? The intensity of it was so much that she longed to give in and rest her head against his shoulder, close her eyes.
No pretence...not tonight.
His deep, husky words replayed in her mind.
Should she allow herself to taste what it might be like to love a man? To feel what it would be like to be loved back? Santos certainly seemed to be playing the part of devoted lover today. She didn’t think for one moment it wasn’t part of the charade they had created, but right now, as his arms held her close, the idea of happy-ever-after seemed tangibly close.
She laid her cheek against his shoulder, a soft sigh escaping her as she closed her eyes. He tensed, and she knew he hadn’t been able to abandon the idea of pretence completely. He was as on edge as she was, which made her a little less vulnerable—because together they could abandon the carefully constructed façades they each lived behind.
His arms tightened around her body, pulling her closer to him, and heat raced through her. As he pressed his lips into her hair she closed her eyes again, the sensation too much, and focused all her attention on the music instead of the feel of his strong body.
As she moved with him she realised the movement of the yacht had changed and glanced at the shoreline.
‘Have we stopped?’ Her words were husky. She’d never heard her voice like that.
‘Sí, querida.’
He brushed his lips over hers as she looked up at him, sending another flurry of tingles skittering over her.
‘We are to anchor here tonight. The crew and staff are leaving. They will be back in the morning.’
‘So we will be completely alone out here?’
‘Very much so.’
He stroked a hand down her face and she fought the urge to turn and kiss it.
‘Does that worry you, querida?’
It should worry her, but it didn’t. She wanted to be with him like this, to feel his body against hers, to taste his kisses. How could she pretend otherwise?
She searched the dark depths of his eyes, dropping her gaze to his lips briefly before looking back into his eyes. ‘Should I be worried?’ A flirty edge had slipped back into her voice as she struggled to keep her emotions under control and stay behind the safety of the barrier she’d erected long ago.
His voice was deep and incredibly sexy as he rubbed the pad of his thumb over her lips, making her lose those last doubts.
‘Only if you don’t want me to sweep you up into my arms and carry you to the bedroom.’
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