Seemed he’d waited half a lifetime.
She’d waited a lifetime. Dane Huntington, teenage fantasy, here. With her. Mariel rubbed her lips over his, opened her mouth and drugged herself with his taste. Heat, desire, impatience. Dragging her towards oblivion. She couldn’t think; her head was too filled with his scent. She could only feel. Sensations, lovely sensations, streaking over her skin and zapping through her body like golden lightning.
The ache low in her belly grew, expanded, until she was a writhing mass of wanton need. ‘Now,’ she demanded, arching her hips against his pulsing hardness. Instinctively she reached down between them.
His answering groan, harsh against her ear, had her shuddering. ‘Protection?’
‘On the Pill.’
He hefted her higher and her thighs wrapped around his waist. And he snapped, tension tearing free, his eyes smoking in the half-light, the hard planes of his body taut beneath her hands. No preliminaries—she didn’t want them this time, didn’t need them.
Still watching her, he shoved inside with one long thrust. They stared at each other for what seemed an endless moment, while needs and desire pulsed through their bodies and the air softened around them.
Then he withdrew a little, but only to push again, harder. Again. In a rhythm they both knew how to move to. He took, he possessed, and she met him hunger for hunger, greed for greed.
Her climax shot her into the realms of dark pleasure and bright chaos. She clung to him as he crested the wave and joined her in the sheer mindless joy of shared delight.
Chapter Seven
DANE was roused from sleep by a pounding on the door. Instantly awake, he grabbed one of the hotel’s robes, stepped around last night’s discarded clothing and padded to the suite’s door.
Room Service with their requested breakfast. ‘Good morning, sir.’ The waitress smiled as he stood back to let her enter.
‘Good morning.’ He pushed a hand through his bedroom hair. ‘It’s nine o’clock already?’ He’d slept like the dead. Hadn’t slept like that since he didn’t remember when. He did remember they’d finally found their way under the bedcovers together.
‘Yes, sir. Five past, actually. We’re running a little behind this morning.’
He found his wallet, dug out a tip while she set the tray on the table in the entertainment area. ‘Thanks.’
‘You’re welcome. Have a nice day.’
‘And you.’
Picking up the tray, he headed to the bedroom. Mariel blinked owlishly at him in the morning’s golden light, then sat up, pulling the sheet modestly over her breasts and securing it firmly beneath her armpits.
‘Good morning.’ The words sounded formal and stilted to his own ears. He followed it up with a more congenial, ‘I hope you’re hungry.’
‘Morning.’
Her hair was a wild dark halo around her face, and there was a glow in those cheeks this morning. He held himself personally responsible. But a thread of something approaching morning-after nerves wound through the satisfaction. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt that way with a woman. Awkward. Clumsy with words.
Determined to banish it, he climbed onto the bed and set the tray between them, poured two coffees, handed her one. He figured they might both need it. He’d never felt the need nor the inclination for inane morning-after chit-chat. He either left a lover’s bed before dawn or called her a taxi as soon as she woke.
‘We slept in the same bed,’ she said, surprising him. ‘All night.’ She didn’t sound happy about it.
‘There wasn’t a lot of night left.’ Thoughtful, he sipped the thick black brew. ‘And, since there’s only one bed, after we…’ He drew back from the words. ‘I figured you’d share.’
‘A one-bedroom suite.’ She added sugar, stirred. ‘So…you planned this?’
Seduction 101: Never leave a woman feeling she’s been taken advantage of.
He went with a smooth, ‘Yes. I told you—the press want details.’ He lifted the cover on a plate of fried eggs and bacon. ‘We give them details—that was the plan we agreed on. Whether I slept here or on the daybed, the press will assume what we want them to assume.’
She sipped at her coffee. ‘Okay. Fine.’
He was unsettled by this strange tension that had sprung up between them. He didn’t understand her emotional tug of war. Last night she’d been molten lava in his hands. She wouldn’t be thinking this was more than it was. Would she? She’d made it clear that after her Frenchman she wasn’t going to get emotionally involved with anyone again.
‘Why don’t you tell me what the problem is?’
‘There’s no problem.’ Her reply was quick, brisk, the tone casual. She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, and took another sip of coffee.
‘We used to be able to be honest with each other—’
‘Not completely.’
‘Okay, you’ll probably never forgive me for that, and I accept it. But I never deliberately lied to you. If we can’t deal with issues that arise with our new relationship, then we will have a problem.’
She was silent a moment, and he thought she wasn’t going to answer, but then she said, ‘This is going to sound totally gauche, but I woke up and you were lying next to me naked and I don’t know how to deal with this…us.’ Colour bled into her cheeks and she looked down at the cup in her hands.
‘Okay.’ He took their cups, set them on the tray. ‘I’ll let you in on a secret. That makes two of us.’
‘Really?’
She felt insecure. He heard it in her tone, saw it in her eyes as she darted a glance at him. ‘Yes, really.’ He tucked a finger under her chin. ‘And don’t look so surprised. I think the best thing now is to finish our breakfast, take a shower and head home. Maybe we both need some breathing space.’
‘Good idea.’ She took a token nibble of toast, then dusted off her fingers in quick jerky movements. ‘I think I’ll just go and have that shower now.’
‘Slow down.’ He reached for her hand, lifted it to his lips and pressed a chaste kiss to the pulse racing at her wrist. ‘Just slow down. You haven’t tried your eggs. You were always crazy about cooked breakfast, if I remember correctly.’
She seemed to relax some, and managed a smile. ‘And I remember you had an appetite big enough for both of us.’
He lowered her hand to the sheet. ‘Still have.’
There was something dark, almost primal, in his gaze, and it had Mariel wondering whether he was still talking about food. A night’s worth of stubble shadowed his jaw, and his untamed hair fell over his brow. Her heart started up the irregular beat that had become almost familiar over the past couple of days.
Clutching the sheet to her, she slid to the side of the bed. ‘Good. Okay…’ Her limbs went to water. She simply couldn’t do sophisticated this morning—not with Dane watching her with those eyes. Eyes that soothed, yet excited. She even struggled with casual. Dane had seen every exposed inch of her last night, but in the light of day…
‘I think I’ll take this out onto the balcony,’ he said, hefting the tray without giving her so much as a glance. Giving her privacy. Allowing her to keep her dignity. ‘Nice view of the river from up here.’
She could have kissed him. No. Erase that thought. Before he changed his mind, she dashed naked to the wardrobe, grabbed her change of clothes and high-tailed it to the bathroom. Closed the door. Let out