A Whisper of Disgrace. Sharon Kendrick
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get within six feet of him by her overprotective family. But this new and tipsy Rosa was feeling no such thing as intimidation. Instead she looked into his eyes and felt an undeniable excitement—as if she had just found something she hadn’t expected to find. Something she hadn’t even realised she’d been looking for. ‘And you’re just the one to do it, I suppose?’
‘I’m the perfect candidate for any kind of rescue mission, my beauty. Be assured of that.’
Trying to dampen down the excitement which was fizzing through her veins, she looked around her in mock surprise. ‘But I can’t see your white horse anywhere.’
‘That’s because I always ride a black stallion, although never in France. He’s big and he’s powerful and he’s not particularly partial to nightclubs.’ His eyes were gleaming as they gazed at her. ‘Unlike a woman who doesn’t seem to realise what havoc she was creating when she performed that incredibly sexy dance a few moments ago and nearly had the whole place in meltdown.’
Rosa’s smile became a little glassy, aware that the level of flirtation was escalating by the second. And she was feeling more than a little daunted by it because this kind of thing was way outside her experience. Even during her university days in Palermo, the men she’d fancied had steered clear of her when they’d discovered who she was. Because what man in their right mind would get involved with a Corretti woman, a woman they wouldn’t dare touch for fear that one of her brothers or cousins would come after them?
She’d never met anyone who hadn’t been intimidated by the reputation of her powerful family and she wouldn’t have been allowed anywhere near a man like this. A man who was sizzling out so much sex appeal that she wondered if her fingers might burn if she reached out and touched him.
She knew that the sensible thing to do would be to turn around and walk away. To go back to the hotel she’d booked into and sleep off the champagne. She would wake up in the morning—probably with a splitting headache—and decide what she was going to do with the rest of her life.
But Rosa wasn’t feeling sensible. She was feeling...defiant. Because defiance was easier to deal with than heartbreak and loneliness, wasn’t it? Defiance made you feel alive, instead of flat and empty and wondering just where your life was going. ‘I don’t want to be rescued,’ she said, a touch petulantly as she took another swig of champagne. ‘I want to dance.’
‘Now that,’ he said steadily as he removed the bottle from her hand and handed it to someone standing nearby, who accepted it without comment, ‘can also be arranged.’
He took her hand and led her towards the dance floor and Rosa was aware of a sudden and heady sense of danger as he took her into his arms and the music began to throb out a sultry beat. He was so tall, she thought—taller than any other man she’d ever seen. And his body felt so strong. She licked her dry lips. A woman wouldn’t stand a chance against a man like this. The thought thrilled her, rather than scared her as she knew it should have done. ‘I don’t even know your name,’ she shouted.
‘That’s because I haven’t told you.’
‘And are you going to tell me?’
‘I might—if you’re very good.’
Recklessly, she said, ‘And if I’m not?’
He didn’t miss a beat. ‘In that case, I will definitely tell you—because there is nothing I like better than a woman who isn’t good. My name is Kulal.’
She tried saying it. Rounding her lips she sounded out the first syllable and then, letting her tongue touch the upper palate, she murmured the second. ‘Ku-lal.’
‘Mmm. I like the way you say it. It sounds very sexy on your lips.’
Rosa giggled. ‘Stop it!’
With a sudden hard beat of lust, Kulal pulled her closer and felt her melt against him, as if she’d been waiting all night to have him do that. And wasn’t it like that for him? Hadn’t his senses been ignited from the moment he’d set eyes on her and seen those soft lips parting with a look of innocent wonder, which certainly didn’t match the sinful splendour of her voluptuous body? He could feel the way her breasts were pushing against his chest and he sucked in a breath of longing as he dipped his mouth to her ear. ‘Now let’s see if you can dance as well on the floor as you did on the podium, shall we, my beauty?’
The slick words which flowed from his lips were warning Rosa to be careful. Because there was a reason for the expression ‘paying’ someone a compliment—her ruthless family had taught her that. You told a woman she was pretty and she would put out for you—wasn’t that how it worked? Hadn’t she grown up watching the male members of her family as they’d put their own heartless seduction campaigns into action? Men like this wanted only one thing from a woman like her and she’d been brought up to guard her honour and integrity. But that was before the world had changed. Before the values she’d held so dear had been held up as shallow and worthless.
So she pushed away her doubts and instead glanced up at him, batting him a coquettish look she hadn’t even realised had been in her repertoire until now. ‘You’re going to mark me out of ten, are you?’
‘If you want.’ His hands tightened around her waist. ‘But I warn you in advance that I can be a very harsh judge.’
The words came out almost before she realised she’d said them. ‘I’ll take the risk,’ she said.
‘Good.’ His lips nuzzled against her neck. ‘I like a woman who takes risks.’
Rosa could feel the whisper of his mouth on her bare neck and she closed her eyes with pleasure. This was...bliss. His arms had tightened around her and she realised that dancing with him was different to dancing with anyone else. He seemed to be making up the rules as he went along, completely ignoring the rhythm of the music and moving them around as if this was a slow waltz instead of a vaguely jumpy beat. And she was letting him. Why wouldn’t she let him? Why, he could carry on doing that all night, he was so good at it.
‘Do you like that?’ he queried softly as the palms of his hands skated possessively over the curve of her bottom.
Her sudden, heady sense of freedom and the sensation of listening to her body’s desires made Rosa bold and she didn’t shrink away from the way he was pulling her even closer. ‘Yes.’
‘I thought so. I like it too. I like it very much.’
Kulal closed his eyes as he felt her fingertips move to his shoulders. He could feel the brush of her silken hair against his cheek and the wave of desire which swept over him was so strong that he was filled with an unbearable need to touch her more intimately.
But even though he’d always been known as a mould-breaking prince, Kulal respected his position enough not to throw his royal role into jeopardy. Dancing with a woman who was clearly an exhibitionist was one thing, but making love to her in a public place was quite another. So that even though they were shielded by the bobbing crowds around them and even though the flashing lights obscured most of their movements, he did not do what he wanted to do. Which was to play with the tips of her breasts through the thin satin of her minidress. Or to slide his hand up her thigh and touch the undoubtedly moist heat which would be searing its way through her panties.
That’s if she was wearing any.
He swallowed, wondering if she could feel the sudden jerk of his erection.
He’d noticed her the moment she’d walked into the nightclub—but then, her shiny red dress had left little to the imagination. She had the type of body which was deeply unfashionable—especially here, in the South of France. She didn’t look as if she spent hours at the gym and she didn’t look as if she existed on a punishing diet either. The kind of diet which always left women with that furrowed and slightly anxious look—as if they were worried they might pass out from hunger. Instead she was ripe and luscious—like a juicy mulberry just before it fell from the tree.
He’d noticed the way her hair had tumbled