Millionaire: Needed for One Month. Maureen Child

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Millionaire: Needed for One Month - Maureen Child


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a picture with words. Show it to me through your memories of the place.”

      Nathan frowned down at the top of her head and tried to give her what she wanted. He thought about the Barbados Barrister for a long moment, bringing it up in his mind, then slowly said, “It's our newest hotel. Only been open a few months. It sits right on the beach, stretches out almost a block. It has five stories for guest rooms and the sixth floor is the owner's suite.” His voice warmed as his memories thickened and the ease of sharing them became more comfortable. “The views stretch on forever. The ocean is so blue you're not sure if you're looking at the sea or the sky.”

      “Keep going,” she said.

      He smiled. “There are palm trees and sand so white it hurts to look at it. Green-and-white striped umbrellas surround an infinity pool, and waiters dressed in green shirts and white pants carry trays of drinks to the people lounging poolside.”

      “More,” she said, nestling in closer.

      The feel of her leaning into him, the heat of the fire behind them and the quiet of the house all made for a feeling of intimacy that Nathan hadn't allowed himself to feel in years.

      “Inside the hotel,” he continued, “the wood is pale, almost gold. The windows are always open, and the sea wind sweeps through the lobby where pots of flowers and trailing vines make it seem almost like a jungle.” He rested his head on top of hers. “There are deck chairs on a wide, white porch that stretches the length of the first floor, and people sit out there, sometimes all day, just to watch the ocean. And the restaurant has an outside deck where you can dine and watch the sunset.”

      “Sounds wonderful.”

      “Actually,” he said, not a little surprised himself, “it really is.”

      She raised her head and smiled up at him. “I'm going to buy a map of Barbados,” she said, “and I'm putting that hotel on my list.”

      He smoothed her hair back from her face, his fingertips lingering on the softness of her skin. She closed her eyes at his touch and shivered a little as his fingers slid down to her jaw.

      “I'll put your name on the VIP list,” he whispered, threading his fingers through her silky hair again just to enjoy the sensation.

      “Nathan?”

      “Keira …”

      “The storm's still blowing,” she said softly, her gaze locked with his. “What will we do while we wait it out?”

      “We could eat,” he offered.

      “True,” she said. “Or you could tell me about another of your hotels.”

      “Or play chess.”

      “Watch a movie.”

      “Read.”

      She nodded and reached up to catch his hand with hers and hold it against her cheek. “All good ideas. But, I have a better idea.”

      Nathan bit back a groan as she leaned in close to him. His body was hard and tight and every breath now was a victory. If he didn't have her in the next few minutes, he was going to explode. “Yeah?” he asked. “What's that?”

      “I think you know,” she said and took one more sip of brandy before setting her glass down on the hearth.

      Nathan tipped his head back and tossed the last of his brandy down his throat before setting his glass down beside hers.

      “Possibly,” he said, though a voice in his brain was telling him to stop now before it was too late. But damn it, he wanted her. Keira's image had been haunting him for days—she'd gotten to him more than any other woman he'd ever known. He wasn't used to waiting for something he wanted. Usually, he simply took what most women were more than willing to offer. Keira was different. “Why don't you tell me, and I'll let you know if we're on the same page.”

      “Why don't I show you?” she whispered, and then pressed her mouth to his.

      Air.

      He probably needed air, because the edges of his vision were blurring and his brain felt as if it had been short-circuited. But breathing didn't seem as important as kissing her—harder, deeper—did.

      Nathan groaned, pulled her in tightly to him and opened her mouth with a sweep of his tongue. She sighed into him as he tasted her, tangling their tongues together in a wild, frantic dance of need and promise.

      He felt her hands tighten on his shoulders, her fingers digging into the soft fabric of his sweater to brand his skin with match-head dots of flame. Electricity hummed between them and Nathan surrendered to the sensations coursing through him.

      He needed her.

      Now.

      He pulled her into his arms and settled her on his lap. His hands swept up and down her back, defining her curves through the soft knit of her sweater. She sighed heavily, pressed herself more firmly to him and rubbed her body against his.

      Nathan's mouth moved over hers like a dying man seeking the only sustenance left in the world. He shared his breath with her and she gave it back to him. Their tongues and lips melded, savored, enjoyed. Nathan slipped both hands beneath the hem of her sweater and his palms slid across her back, his fingertips smoothing over her satiny skin.

      She tore her mouth free, let her head fall back and sighed at his touch. “Nathan …”

      He lowered his head, kissing her jaw, her neck, following the line of her throat with his lips and teeth and tongue. She shivered in his grasp and fed the need pulsing inside him.

      Lifting his head, Nathan looked down at her as his hands, sliding beneath her sweater, swept around her body to find the front clasp on her bra. Deftly, he undid the tiny plastic clip, then pushed her bra free and cupped her breasts in his palms. His thumbs caressed her hardened nipples as his fingers kneaded her soft flesh.

      Her hands clutched at his shoulders as he held her tightly to his lap, letting her feel the hard length of him.

      Need roared and crashed through Nathan until he could hardly draw breath. He couldn't remember ever wanting like this before. He couldn't remember another woman in his life who had pushed him to the razor's edge of rationality. All he could think of was Keira.

      All he wanted was Keira.

      He didn't care what it might mean.

      What it might cost him.

      Didn't want to examine every feeling, every ache.

      He only wanted to lose himself in her. For this one moment in time, he wanted nothing more than the feel of her beneath his hands and the sensation of burying his body within the hot, tight channel of hers.

      “I've got to have you,” he whispered, hearing the raw throb in his own voice.

      “Me, too,” she said, opening her eyes and pulling herself upright, leaning into him. “Oh, Nathan, me, too. Now, okay?”

      “Right now.” He pulled his hands free of her body, not even thinking about how empty he felt without the warmth of her pouring into him. Then he stood up, set her on her feet and led her across the great room toward the foyer and the majestic staircase that led to the second floor and the master bedroom. With their boots off, their sock feet made almost no noise at all in their rush for the stairs.

      She stumbled behind him, kicked an end table and letting go of his hand, hopped ungainly for a minute, whimpering. “Ow, ow …”

      Nathan turned, swept her up into his arms and said thickly, “Okay, I'm carrying you from here. I'm not taking any chances with a tumble down the stairs.”

      “Right, right,” she said and leaned in to nibble at his throat as his long legs took the steep stairs two at a time.

      He hissed in a breath, took a sharp turn at the head of the stairs and headed for the only bedroom in the place that had been furnished.

      Keira


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