Six

      Without sight, all her other senses came to life. The unsteady rasp of Gabriel’s breath told her he too was disturbed by the attraction between them. But was it enough? Hadn’t she discovered less than an hour ago that she wanted more from him? So much more.

      His fingertips grazed along the sensitive skin inside her arm, from the hollow behind her elbow to the pulse jerking frantically in her wrist. Gently he laced their fingers and began to pull her along the terrace. Her eyes flew open.

      “Where?” Her gaze found his and she saw feverish hunger blazing in the bronze depths.

      “To bed, of course,” he teased, but there was nothing lighthearted about the determined set of his mouth or the tension that rode his muscles. Tension that communicated across the short distance between them.

      “What about dinner?”

      Inside the suite once more, he drew her close, sliding a hand over her hip to pull her against the hard jut of his erection, and bent to whisper in her ear. “You made me hungry for something besides food.”

      His lips dropped to hers, lingering at the corner of her mouth for too long. His unproductive nuzzling wasn’t getting the job done. She wanted a kiss. A real, hard, deep kiss with no possibility of interruption. Growling low in her throat, she lifted on tiptoe and framed his face with her hands, holding him still while she pressed her mouth to his. Her tongue tested the seam of his lips as she flattened her breasts against Gabriel’s broad chest, eager to convey her desire, letting her hunger shine through.

      Gabriel captured handfuls of the dress near her shoulder blades and pulled the edges forward and down, baring her torso to the waist. Olivia gasped at the sudden rush of cool air over her breasts.

      He slid his hands up over her rib cage until his fingers reached the undersides of her breasts. Smiling with male satisfaction, he cupped her and kneaded slightly.

      She arched into the pressure of his hands, offering herself to him. Reaching behind, she found the dress’s zipper and slid it down. With a determined stroke of her palms against her hips, the dress pooled at her feet, leaving her wearing nothing but her black pumps and a white lace thong.

      He had tracked the progression of the dress to the floor, his gaze sliding over her legs as the falling black fabric bared her to him. Liking the way his nostrils flared at the sight of her nakedness, Olivia stepped out of the dress and kicked it aside.

      Pressure built inside her as she hooked her fingers in the thong, determined to rid herself of it, as well. Gabriel’s hands covered hers, halting her actions.

      “This is your first time.” His voice sank into rich, warm tones that did little to equalize her pulse or diminish her hunger. “I want to take this slow.”

      “I don’t.”

      His lips moved into a predator’s smile, slow and lazy. “You’ll thank me later.”

      And with that, he swept her feet off the floor.

      Placing her in the center of the big bed, Gabriel stepped back to rid himself of his clothes. Olivia raised herself on her elbows to better catch the unveiling of all that amazing bronze skin. From the little contact she’d had with his body, she knew he was lean and well-muscled, but nothing prepared her for the chiseled perfection of his torso as his shirt buttons gave way. She goggled at the sheer beauty of his broad shoulders and the sculptured magnificence of his chest.

      He raised his eyebrows at her obvious curiosity, his hands going to the belt buckle. As he unfastened the top button, he kicked off his shoes. His pants hit the floor, followed by his socks.

      He left on his boxers, but Olivia’s eyes were drawn to the way they bulged in front. Her obvious curiosity and lack of concern turned him on and sped even more blood to his groin. Making this the most amazing night of her life might prove challenging. She certainly wasn’t playing the part of nervous virgin.

      He climbed onto the bed.

      “What’s this?” His finger grazed a black Chinese character in the hollow beside her hip bone and her stomach muscles twitched.

      “A tattoo.”

      His elegant British fiancée had a tattoo? And in a very sexy spot, he might add. He frowned.

      “What does it say?”

      “Hope.” She bent the leg opposite him and braced her foot on the mattress so she could cant her hips toward him. “I got it in college. My one wild act freshman year.”

      He imagined her baring her body for the needle, sliding down jeans and underwear. And the thought of another man touching her there made him want to roar in outrage.

      His emotions must have shown on his face because she rushed to say, “It was done by a woman.”

      His shoulders relaxed at her words. She was his, or would be soon. And he wasn’t the sort of man who cared to share. Living with two brothers had turned him into a possessive madman when anything encroached on what he believed was his.

      “In that case, it’s very sexy.”

      She grinned at how grudging his words sounded. It continued to both infuriate and delight him that she was not even remotely close to the type of woman he thought he’d chosen to make the next queen of Sherdana and his wife.

      He hadn’t anticipated surprises. He’d expected gracefulness and composure, not this wanton creature with her disheveled hair, bare breasts and body marked by the word hope. But now that he had her, she turned him inside out with wanting. She fired his imagination and his blood in the span of a heartbeat. Life would not be dull with her.

      Which was the problem. He’d had passion once, crazy desire. It had consumed him and compelled him to think with every part of him but the one that mattered for the future king of Sherdana: his head. He didn’t need a wife who made him feel out of control. He needed someone sensible, who kept him focused on matters of state.

      Yet deep down he knew Olivia would do that.

      And then, behind the closed doors of their private suite, she would make him forget everything but the sweet rush of carnal pleasure.

      The best of both worlds.

      What was there to worry about?

      Taking her leg in his hand, he caressed upward from her knee to the place where her thighs came together.

      “That’s...” Her voice faltered as he slid one finger beneath the scrap of lace hiding her hot, wet center from him. She balled her fists into the coverlet, holding her breath as the tip of his finger grazed her warmth.

      “You are incredibly wet,” he said, delighted by the quickness of her arousal.

      “Stop talking and touch me.”

      “Like this?” Stripping off her underwear, he did as she asked, dipping between the folds that concealed her core and riding the river of wetness toward the knot of nerves. He circled it slowly, listening to her pant, smelling the waves of her arousal. Her hips rose off the mattress, pushing into his hand.

      Gorgeous.

      With her eyes closed, her knuckles whitening as she held on to the bed linens for dear life, she was as deep into the throes of sensual pleasure as any woman he’d ever known. She writhed against his hand, mindless in her pursuit of her ultimate goal. He watched her face, absorbing each tremble and jerk of her body as he carried her closer and closer to orgasm. Her