Moving inside her was way too much pleasure. He had to say the alphabet backwards and write an imaginary shopping list of all the things he’d like to buy for Lucy just to bolster his legendary self-control—and that was definitely a first. She didn’t even attempt to make it easy for him, moving with an enthusiasm that belied her protestations of inexperience. She had a natural talent for sex. She matched his rhythm, adding her own particular twist to what looked destined to become an exhaustive practical examination of the Kama Sutra. Seeing her confidence had grown, he gave her what she wanted. Grasping her hips, he thrust deep and fast until he was forced to muffle her screams of pleasure with a kiss.
She watched him sleeping, wondering if there had ever been a moment of such contentment, or of such wonder and love. Mac didn’t curl up on the bed in her protective ball, he sprawled on his back so that his long, muscular limbs took up most of the available space. He looked so beautiful and so peaceful.
She traced the line of his perfectly sculpted lips with her fingertip, pulling her hand away when he sighed and turned his head slightly. Now she could see where the sweep of his eyelashes cast a blue-black shadow on his face. His ebony brows were slightly upturned, like an exotic warrior of the Steppes … or the desert. Wherever he came from, Mac was a stunning-looking man.
As he moved his hand his ring glinted, drawing her attention to the symbol on it—the same crest as the tattoo on the left side of his chest—over his heart … A shiver gripped her. She could find no reason for it. Everything was good—better than good. After tonight she’d face things differently. Mac had made her feel like a woman, bolder and more decisive. Maybe she couldn’t have him in her life long-term, but she would have the legacy of knowing him. Something told her she would never feel like this about anyone again. She just had to accept that one night with Mac was worth a lifetime without him.
Settling back on the pillows, she turned her face to drink him in. ‘I love you,’ she whispered, wishing there were something more she could say to express what she felt inside. There didn’t seem to be words for falling in love within a matter of hours. Love struck like a thunderbolt. ‘I love you’ was used so often she worried it had lost its currency—certainly in this instance it seemed woefully inadequate. ‘I love you,’ she whispered again, knowing it could never come close to expressing what she felt for Mac.
CHAPTER SEVEN
BREAKFAST passed in a whirl of activity. What might have flustered some people—everyone wanting something slightly different—eggs poached, fried, scrambled, boiled—wasn’t even a blip on Lucy’s horizon. The only blip on her horizon was wondering how Mac would react when he saw her outside the bedroom.
It was time to put personal considerations aside and forget the fact that she had fallen in love.
Forget?
Forget. Just for now, at least. Because now it was time to remember how much she loved the mad hustle of preparing good food for hungry skiers as fast as she could so they could get out onto the slopes without time-wasting. She made sure there was always enough hot coffee, enough tea, enough hot chocolate, enough juice, and an endless supply of crusty French bread—and today was one such morning. The chat round the table was boisterous and bright.
Then Mac entered the room. Conversation dropped. Her heart stopped. He’d just showered; his hair was still damp. He looked amazing. Her insides clenched, relaxed, yearned.
A look passed between them. It was nothing more than that—a look—but it made her thrill. It made everything perfect. She had vowed to behave with reserve and professionalism, but the look they had exchanged changed everything—and they had the rest of the week together …
Her heart was pounding with excitement as she poured coffee. ‘Can I get anything else for you?’ she asked the men around the table.
‘Lucy has to get away,’ Mac informed the group. ‘She has an important appointment on the slopes this morning.’
Her heart bounced as Mac looked at her. He was going to take her skiing!
‘Abu and Omar will clear up,’ he said, dictating events. ‘You’d better hurry up, Lucy.’ His eyes were glinting with humour that only she saw. ‘See you later,’ he said casually to her.
‘Yes, see you later,’ she replied, tugging off her apron.
See you later. There was a world of promise contained in those three words and her spirits were soaring as she left the room. See you later cleared the mist on her immediate future another day with Mac.
He blazed into the restaurant. Customers halted with soup spoons halfway to their mouths to stare at the impossibly glamorous man who had just walked in in a storm of testosterone and muscle. Lucy knew the owner of the cosy mountain retreat and had been helping out by doing a little serving while she was waiting for Mac, but now she stopped as Mac, oblivious to everyone staring at him, headed straight for her. ‘Ready?’ he said, flashing a glance at the chef who poked his head round the door.
With arousal thundering through her she was already by his side, waving goodbye to the owner.
‘Do you really need to moonlight?’ Mac demanded, ushering her towards the pegs where her jacket was hanging and her ski boots were stacked. ‘Doesn’t the chalet company pay you enough?’
‘It’s not strictly moonlighting as I don’t get paid for working here.’
‘You do enough already,’ he said, frowning as he held the door for her.
‘The owner’s a friend.’
‘You let people take advantage of your good nature.’
‘I’m fine with it, Mac. Honestly, I’m no pushover.’
The humour in his slanted glance made her blush.
They skied down from the restaurant to the first lift. Mac was every bit as good as she thought he’d be—far faster and more confident than she would ever be. She tried to keep up with him and then found it hard to stop. It was quite a collision, but Mac caught her in his arms and didn’t even lose his balance slightly. ‘Speed demon,’ he commented wryly. ‘I can see we’re going to have some fun.’
Taking in his athletic form, dressed in the latest close-fitting performance gear, Lucy decided that was mainly what she was afraid of.
For the first time that season she managed to catch a tip and fall off the lift as she got off—or she would have done had Mac’s awareness and reflexes not been lightning fast. Catching hold of her, he steadied her before she could suffer the ignominy of holding everyone up. ‘It happens all the time,’ he reassured her. ‘Even Tom took a tumble yesterday.’
But there wasn’t even a bump in the snow here and she could only blame Mac for distracting her—Mac who was so utterly gorgeous everyone was staring at him to the point where she couldn’t understand why he wanted to be with her. Even though they’d slept together it wasn’t exactly a holiday romance.
No, it was something more precious than that, she mused contentedly.
‘Shall I lead, or would you like to?’ he said, snapping her out of the daydream.
‘You’d better lead and wait for me at the bottom—I can’t ski as well as you.’ She doubted few people could.
Mac stared at her, the customary amusement missing from his face. ‘I wouldn’t dream of leaving you—I’ll ride shotgun. Off you go,’ he prompted. As he spoke the clouds parted and the sun streamed down, illuminating his face almost as a Hollywood director would reserve the special lighting for the star, Lucy thought, dazzled for a moment.
‘Come on, let’s get moving. The sun might be shining, but it isn’t the desert,’ he pointed out.
She laughed too. They were as far away from the desert as she could imagine. But as she was