Hot-Shot Surgeon, Cinderella Bride. Alison Roberts
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closed and still think of nothing but the music and the way they moved together so beautifully.
It didn’t matter now that she was dancing with the physical embodiment of everything she had run from in her previous life. Or that she had lied about her identity.
It wasn’t really a lie, was it?
Cindy Riley was close enough to being Cinderella to be a joke. Part of the pretence. Part of the fairytale she was living tonight. And it was…magic.
The spell they were under did odd things to the passage of time. Kelly had no idea how long they danced, and there was no way she was going to suggest a break. That would come all too soon—when the clock struck midnight and she had to flee. The lights became dimmer and the crowd on the dance floor thinned out, but still they danced on.
As if there was no tomorrow.
And maybe the spell was going to last a little longer than midnight.
At some point, drugged by the music and the movement, and barely moving in the slow, slow tango, she heard Tony murmur in her ear.
‘I want to be with you,’ he said. ‘Somewhere else.’
She hadn’t expected this. The thought was alarming. ‘T-tonight?’
‘Oh, yes.’ The movement of his hand on her back was subtle. Nobody else would have noticed the way his thumb moved and pressed down along the bumps of her spine. But Kelly could feel the heat spread through her entire body. Into every single cell.
His voice was such a low rumble that Kelly felt rather than heard the two words he added.
‘All night.’
His lips were right beside her ear. She felt them move like a caress. She felt the tiny coolness of his tongue touching her skin.
Yes!
No!
It was unthinkable! To spend a night with a man she’d just met for the first time? Not even met him honestly, come to that, seeing as he had no idea who she really was.
But maybe that made it less shocking somehow— because it wasn’t her doing something so risky. So unlike anything she’d ever contemplated doing. She wasn’t herself. Wasn’t expected to be until around eight tomorrow morning, when she was due to collect Flipper from Elsie’s house. Just for tonight—a few more hours—she could continue being part of the fairytale and do things she might never get the chance to do again.
She could believe she was someone that a man like Tony actually wanted.
‘Wh—where?’ she heard herself whisper.
‘The owners of this hotel are family friends. I have a suite upstairs for the night.’
His head was moving as he spoke. His lips brushing her cheek. Any moment now and he might kiss her, and— God help her—Kelly wanted him to. She wanted the touch of his lips more than she had ever wanted anything.
Ever.
It was too easy. Kelly was being led as decisively as he had been leading her in their dancing. Doubts collided in her mind, but wouldn’t slow down enough to take shape. Not when he was looking down at her like this and she could see the dark eyes behind the mask.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said softly. ‘You’re safe. I’ll take care of you, Cindy Riley. I promise.’
And that was her undoing.
The thought of being cared for.
Loved.
It wasn’t the first time Tony Grimshaw had taken a woman he barely knew to his bed. The only difference between his testosterone-laden teen years and those of most young men had been the playground he’d had available. One where the kind of holidays, clothes, cars and freedom had been a magnet for every pretty girl he’d encountered.
So why did it feel like the first time?
Tony led Cindy through the door of the best suite the Grand Chancellor had to offer, pushed it closed with his foot and pulled her into his arms, dipping his head to claim her lips with his own as part of the same, fluid series of moves.
It was all just another kind of dance, really, wasn’t it? And he’d been right. Her responsiveness was… mind-blowing. The way her mouth moved under his and her lips parted. They way her tongue touched and curled against his own. And when he moved his head to deepen the kiss she tilted her own to exactly the angle he needed to explore her delicious mouth a little more thoroughly.
It was some time before he registered what his fingers, rather than his lips and tongue, were aware of.
‘Your hair,’ he said in amazement. ‘It’s real.’
She laughed. ‘Of course it is.’
He smiled back at her. He wanted to make her laugh again because it was such a gorgeous sound. ‘Mine isn’t.’
It worked. ‘I should hope not.’ Then her face stilled. ‘Take it off,’ she whispered. ‘I want to feel you. Take off the wig. And this—’ She touched the moustache that was already half detached after their kisses.
She didn’t seem to mind that his own hair was flattened and damp from the wig. Or that his chin felt rough because he hadn’t shaved before sticking on that silly beard. Her hands shaped his head, and the pressure brought his lips back to hers for an even more intense kiss.
Tony had to slow things down. He wanted her right now. To pull up the acres of fabric in that dress and take her here, against the wall. But he’d promised to take care of her, hadn’t he? And even if he hadn’t made that promise, he wouldn’t want to rush this. It was too special.
He dragged his mouth from hers, but he couldn’t pull right back. He kissed the corner of her mouth. Then her jaw and her neck. She tilted her head back in response to his touch, and the gasp as he trailed his kisses down to the pale flesh rounded over the top of her corset made him utter a sound that was unfamiliar to his own ears.
A primal sound of pure need.
His fingers fumbled with the string at the front of her bodice and then her hands joined his, making deft, sure movements that undid the knot and loosened the lace. And all the time her fingers worked under his, her eyes held his gaze. Tony thought he was going to drown in the deep blue depths. In the desire he could see that so clearly matched his own.
Then the laces were undone and her breasts were free and his hands could hold them and he could bend his head and touch his tongue to nipples as hard as buttons.
And he was lost.
Completely and utterly lost.
Kelly wasn’t a virgin, but it had been a very long time since she’d been with a man—and she’d never been with anyone as far out of her league as Tony Grimshaw.
Maybe that was why it felt like a first time.
Or maybe it was because this man made her feel different. Every touch made her ache for more, but even the combination of long abstinence on her part and gentleness and strength on his part, overlying the undeniable expertise of his lovemaking, couldn’t explain why this felt so different.
He seemed to know her body. Just where to touch her and how. With his lips, his tongue, his teeth. His hands and his fingertips. His eyes! The way he looked at her body as he uncovered it. The way he held her gaze as he stripped off his own clothing.
And his focus. He’d stopped talking and asking awkward questions when she had wanted to dance, and now there seemed no need for any words at all. With the costumes that represented the first chapters of this fairytale lying puddled on the floor, Tony scooped Kelly into his arms and carried her to the massive bed, softly illuminated by discreet lamps.
He laid her down, took a condom from the drawer in the bedside cabinet and then knelt over her on the bed.