He was sitting on her desk, as he had been this morning, only she chose not to sit down this time.
‘I don’t know what to pack,’ she admitted. ‘Are you staying here tonight?’
Luka nodded.
‘Then I can go to your apartment and select a more casual wardrobe. I’ll bring your luggage in with me in the morning.’
‘Sure.’
She picked up her bag and gave him a tight smile. ‘Thank you for dinner and cake and my gorgeous present.’
‘You’re most welcome.’
His dark eyes met hers and she wondered if she should give him a kiss on the cheek to thank him, just as she would anyone else who had given her such a nice night and gift.
Only he was not anyone.
But tonight of all nights, her hard-won control slipped and she leant in and gave him a light kiss on the cheek.
She merely brushed the skin of his cheek with her lips, and she even held her breath to lessen the impact the gesture would have on her senses. She would taste him later; in the elevator she would run her tongue over her lips and recall the warmth of his skin on her mouth.
And she would recall too the ache in her breast at the mere graze against his shirt.
She pulled back and her bag bit into her shoulder as she ached to drop it to the floor and give in to her craving for this man.
Luka did not want to get this wrong.
He read women with ease, and his kiss was so rarely refused—yet with her he could not be certain.
She had chastised him with her eyes on so many occasions, he could almost feel the sting of the slap she would deliver if he put so much as a finger wrong.
It would be worth it, Luka decided.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ Cecelia said, her voice a touch high as she willed her legs to move and take her from danger.
Yet, and yet... ‘But if you need anything before that...’
She had said the same words a hundred times before—or was it a thousand times?—but they sounded different tonight.
His response was different tonight too. ‘I need to be with you.’
No slap was delivered, she just stared back. And right when she thought she might finally know his kiss, instead his hands came to her arms.
‘Aren’t you going to try it on?’
She thought again of those slender dark fingers in her hair and his mouth near her cheek as he did the clasp, only this time, instead of refusing, she nodded.
‘Let me help,’ Luka said. He took her bag from her shoulder and retrieved the present and then dropped the bag to the floor.
He slowly prised open the box and as she watched his long finger run over the stones and she felt as if he was stroking her on the inside.
Luka could hear the trip in her breathing and felt the charge in the air; he breathed in the scent of seduction. For that was what she did, Luka concluded—without so much as a word or a move, she seduced.
‘Turn around,’ Luka said, and he moved from lounging against her desk.
Cecelia did so.
At his simple command she turned and faced the wall.
She had known how this evening would end, how this year would end.
And they ended tonight, she was suddenly rather certain of that.
But it didn’t matter now.
She was leaving.
Cecelia went to lift the long ponytail she had retied many times today, but he pushed her hand down. ‘I’ve got this,’ Luka said.
She could barely breathe as she felt his hands come around her throat and the brush of his fingers against the pulse in her neck. He was tall and, she was certain, hard behind her, and she ached to lean back into him.
She felt the coolness of the necklace fall between her breasts as he put it on and the brush of his fingers as he did up the clasp. But then, instead of turning her around to admire the necklace, his fingers moved to the tiny bolero. She both heard and felt his voice. ‘I hate this,’ he said, and his words reverberated deep within her as he pushed the fabric down over her shoulders.
Luka would not rush this, for he had waited a long time and so first he removed the little bolero that he had loathed on sight.
One arm was freed, and then the other, and as the garment fell silently to the floor, she felt it dust her calf.
She shivered as he ran fingers along the bare flesh of her arms, something he had wanted to do all night.
‘Luka...’ His name from her lips was so loaded with lust that he did not take it as a reproach. Instead, he lifted her hair and the spine that had teased him this morning was now his to explore.
She felt his lips on the back of her neck as soft as the kiss she had delivered to his cheek and the message was the same, for it felt like a promise.
Every notch to her spine that was exposed by her dress was rewarded with a graze of his mouth, and then there was the ache of no contact for a moment.
Followed by delicious relief.
‘I want to see this necklace on you as it should be seen,’ he said. She felt his hands on her neck as he undid the tie of her halter neck and she bit her lip as he undid her flesh-coloured strapless bra.
Her breasts felt heavy and there was a yearning for his touch there, but instead he freed her hair and arranged it over her shoulders. For a second, just a second, his fingers grazed her breasts.
He felt her hard nipples, and now it was his breathing that was jagged for the longing to see her was intense. But their first kiss would be a naked one, Luka decided.
Cecelia could barely stand. She heard a noise and glanced to the side, seeing Luka toss his jacket over a chair. She turned back to face the wall, not sure whether she could bear to watch him undress.
And then she heard him strip off his shirt and she almost folded over at the thought of his naked chest behind her.
Her thighs were trembling and she would have no choice but to ask to sit soon, but then came his hands on her shoulders and another command. ‘Turn around.’
Now she faced him and he looked at her usually pale face all flushed as if she’d already come. But instead of reproach in her green eyes there was the beckoning of an aurora as they glittered with the promise of what was to come.
‘It’s looks beautiful.’
The necklace fell between her breasts yet, as fine as it was, it garnered only a glance because he had found perfection elsewhere. He experienced a fierce desire to taste her there and to explore with his fingers, though they had not yet so much as kissed.
His lips were warm as they brushed over hers. Her breasts got the tease of his naked skin as their bodies came together, then his arms pulled her in as she moaned at the contact. He tasted of anise and all things forbidden and delicious.
And then he kissed her hard and she kissed him back hungrily, for she had craved him for close to a year. Her hands slipped through the arms that held her and came up behind his head to pull him closer.
He had expected reticence, that her tongue would require his coaxing, yet instead together they fuelled urgent desire. The woman who rarely blushed, who was always so cool and distant now burnt at his touch. He had imagined a slow seduction perhaps, and then he laughed in his head that he had thought her a virgin for the woman in his arms was wanton and wild.
He pressed against her hips and her grip tightened