Modern Romance June 2019 Books 5-8. Andie Brock
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“Please use the bell if you need me to bring anything.” She pointed at the button near the headboard as she left.
Luli saw her bag hung empty on a hook behind the door. She opened a couple of drawers, finding Gabriel’s clothes in them.
Her heart stopped. This was his room.
And there was her underwear in another drawer, looking very paltry in such a big, empty compartment. She closed the cupboard and touched the vase on the night table. It was magnetic, ensuring it wouldn’t fall over during turbulence.
She went into the bathroom. Mirrors and subdued lighting turned the powder-blue color scheme silver. The shower had frosted glass and the towels matched the bedspread.
Luli stared at herself in the mirror. Gabriel was right. This double-breasted jacket did her no favors. She had been trying to blend in for so long, she had mostly forgotten how to make the most of her attributes.
There was only soap and lotion in here, no makeup. She washed, then, rather than pin up her hair again, left it loose. The thick, wavy mass had always been one of her best features along with her natural honey-toned skin. She left the jacket on the hook behind the door, even though her plain cotton bra caused unflattering lines against the thin fabric of her knit top.
She paused before she opened the door. Gabriel was on the other side, advising someone on the phone in French what time they would arrive.
She opened the door to see him tossing a pair of bone-colored pants onto the foot of the bed. He noticed her and glanced at the blue shirt on the hanger in his hand. He replaced it on the rack and brought out a red one.
“Merci. Au revoir.” He ended his call. “These are for you. More comfortable for travel.” He pulled the shirt off the hanger and picked up the pants. “And more flattering. Although, that’s better without the jacket.”
The way his gaze lingered on her made her think of their kiss. Her skin grew tight.
“Thank you,” she murmured as she came forward to take the clothes. The linen pants had a wide, woven tape as a drawstring and the shirt was a soft knit with a half dozen buttons at the collar. “We, um, should talk about a few things.”
“Sure,” he said absently. “I wondered how long it was.” His gaze traveled to where tendrils of her hair scrolled against and around the swells of her breast. His hand lifted and she felt a light tug against her scalp, as though he drew a few strands through his finger and thumb, testing its silky texture.
She stood very still, not sure what to make of his curiosity, but liking the tingle that rippled across her scalp and down her nape into her shoulder. It was like their kiss, leaving her feeling shaken, while he had seemed to shake it off.
“I wondered if—” She started to lose her nerve. “We didn’t talk about whether this would be, um, a real...um...” She swallowed, voice almost nonexistent as she squeaked, “Marriage?”
His brows came together like a pair of crashing trains, head-on. “You signed the contract. I thought that meant you agreed to everything.”
“I didn’t have a chance to disagree, did I? Everything happened so fast. Then, the way you kissed me, I thought maybe it was just for show.”
“What do you mean? Were you pretending when we kissed?” His voice rang with such foreboding, she shivered inwardly.
“N-no?”
“You don’t sound sure.”
“I’m sure. But I wasn’t sure if you...?” She swallowed, completely out of her depth.
“I wasn’t pretending anything. I was trying to keep it this side of X-rated.”
There was something in his demeanor that reminded her of the time her mother had been photographed with a jaguar. Luli had been seven or eight. Her mother had insisted she join her. Luli had been fascinated by the power and heat radiating off the spotted cat, but the handler had warned her, Don’t look him in the eye.
So she knew better, but she did it now with this beast—and instantly understood why it was a mistake. It aroused the hunter in him. He might appear relaxed, but his pupils opened and he bared his teeth, sending swirls of reaction into her abdomen. Strangely, it wasn’t terror. It was the opposite. An answering type of excitement? She didn’t know what it was, but she couldn’t look away, couldn’t move.
Another tug pulled against her scalp as he turned his finger, winding her hair to draw her forward, until she stood close enough to feel the heat off his body. He let his gaze wander her face, both lazy and thorough, like he was staking a territorial claim.
She found herself studying his mouth, licking her lips.
His fist rested on her shoulder, still tangled in her hair. His thumb stroked along the artery in her throat, where her blood moved thick and unsteady.
“You have the most beautiful skin.”
She didn’t know how to respond to that and wasn’t given a chance. He dipped his head and opened his mouth against her neck.
This was what they did. They crushed their prey with their powerful jaws.
Except he only breathed hotly against her throat, licked once, sending her pulse skyrocketing. Her breasts prickled and stung inside her bra and a wicked dampness rushed into her loins. She forgot to inhale as he rubbed his lips against her skin. Heat suffused her body and her bones turned to melted wax.
He made a purring noise and scraped his teeth, then sucked lightly, soothing with another lick. The sensation was so enticing, she let her head fall back, fully baring her throat to him.
With another noise of satisfaction, he set a hand on her hip and drew her closer, lifted his head and took her mouth in a kiss that buckled her knees. Hot, thorough, hungry. His arms went around her, pulling her in. Holding her up.
Her arms were tangled in whatever she held, but she didn’t care that she couldn’t move them. She only wanted more of that raking pleasure of his lips across hers.
The swipe of his tongue against hers sent streaks of electricity through her. She met it with her own, moaning softly in her throat as a near-painful sting heightened every inch of her skin. As if he understood that, he ran his hands over her back and waist and hips, soothing but inciting, making her wriggle restlessly, wanting more.
Her shirt came loose from her waistband and his palms went under the edge, up and up, arriving to cup her breasts so they throbbed with sensitivity in the firm hold of his hands. It was too much and not enough. She could smell something feral on his skin and wanted to drown in that scent. She plucked at his shirt and drew on his tongue and wished she could breathe, but she only wanted him.
With a savage hiss of breath, he jerked his head back. The gray-green of his eyes was jungle dark, filled with mysterious shadows and the secrets of life.
Her heart thudded so hard she could feel it rocking her whole body, pulsing in her nipples against his palms and throbbing in the plump folds between her legs.
“Are you faking this?” he asked in a voice that made her scalp prickle.
She looked down at the way his hands were trapped against her breasts under the taut fabric, the clothes he’d given her rumpled on the floor at their feet.
“No.” She didn’t have a clue what she was doing, but she was lured by the feel of his palms on her breasts to lean in to his touch.
“Good.” The word was a satisfied rumble. His thumbs flicked across her nipples, and even muffled by the cotton of her bra, the caress caused a sharp spear of electric sensation to stab into her abdomen. “I’ll close the door.”
Consciousness began to seep back into her brain. “I was going to save it,” she remembered distantly.
“Save what?” His head lowered so the air between their lips became magnetized, tugging with