And those magnificent callused hands… She could lose herself in the pure sensation of his caress.
He inched aside the strap of her silvery-gray dress. She’d chosen the silky fabric for the decadent glide along her skin—yes, she usually preferred shapeless clothes, but the appreciation in Rowan’s eyes relayed loud and clear he’d never judged her by what she wore. He saw her. The woman. And he wanted her.
That knowledge sent a fresh thrill up her spine.
He kissed along her bared neck, to her shoulder, his teeth lightly snapping her champagne-colored satin bra strap—another of her hidden decadences, beautiful underwear. Her head fell back, giving him fuller access. But she didn’t intend to be passive in this encounter. Not by a long shot. Her hands soaked up the play of his muscles flexing in his arms as she stroked down, down, farther still to his waistband.
She tugged his polo shirt free and her fingers crawled up under the warm cotton to find even hotter skin. She palmed his back, scaled the hard planes of his shoulder blades as a jazz rendering of “The First Noel” piped through the satellite radio. He was her latest fantasies come to life.
Unable to wait a second longer, she yanked the shirt over his head even if that meant he had to draw his mouth away from her neck. She flung aside his polo, the red shirt floating to rest on the leather sofa. Fire heated his eyes to the hottest blue flame. He skimmed off the other strap of her dress until the silk slithered down her body, hooking briefly on her hips before she shimmied it the rest of the way off to pool at her feet. She kicked aside her sandals as she stepped out of the dress.
His gaze swept over her as fully as she took in the bared expanse of his broad chest, the swirls of hair, the sun-bronzed skin. He traced down the strap of her bra, along the lace edging the cups of her bra, slowly, deliberately outlining each breast. Her ni**les beaded against the satin, tight and needy. She burned to be closer to him, as close as possible.
Her breath hitched in her throat and she stepped into his arms. The heat of his skin seared her as if he’d stored up the African sun inside him and shared it with her now.
“Here,” she insisted, “on the sofa or the floor. I don’t care. Just hurry.”
“Princess, I have waited too damn long to rush this. I intend to have you completely and fully, in a real bed. I would prefer it was my bed, but there’s a baby snoozing in the bassinet in my room. So let’s go to yours.”
“Fine,” she agreed frantically. “Anywhere, the sooner the better.” She slipped a finger into the waistband of his jeans and tugged.
“I like a lady who knows what she wants. Hell, I just like you.”
His hands went to the front clasp of her bra and plucked it open and away with deft hands. She gasped as the overhead fan swooshed air over her bared flesh. Then he palmed both curves, warming her with a heat that spread into a tingling fire.
Through the haze of passion she realized her hand was still on his buckle. She fumbled with his belt, then the snap of his jeans, his zipper, until she found his arousal hard and straining against her hand. A growl rumbled low in his throat and she reveled in the sound. Drew in the scent of his soap and his sweat, perspiration already beading his brow from his restraint as she learned the feel of him. She stroked the steely length down, up and again.
“We have to be quiet,” she reminded him.
“Both of us,” he said with a promise in his voice and in his narrowed eyes.
One of his hands slid from her breast down to her panties, dipping inside, gliding between her legs. She was moist and ready for him. If she’d had her way they would be naked and together on the sofa. He was the one who’d insisted on drawing this out, but then they’d always been competitive.
Although right now that competition was delivering a tense and delicious result rather than the frustration of the past. She bit her bottom lip to hold back a whimper of pleasure. He slipped two fingers inside, deeper, stroking and coaxing her into a moist readiness. She gripped his shoulders, her fingernails digging half-moons into his tanned skin. Each glide took her higher until her legs went weak and he locked an arm around her back.
She gasped against his neck, so close to fulfillment. Aching for completion. “Let’s take this to the bed.”
“Soon, I promise.” His late-day beard rasped against her cheek and he whispered in her ear, “But first, I need to protect you.”
She gritted her teeth in frustration over the delay. “Rowan, there are guards stationed inside and outside of the hotel. Can we talk about security forces later?”
Cupping her face in his broad palms, he kissed the tip of her nose. “I mean I need to get birth control.”
“Oh…” She gasped, surprised that she hadn’t thought of it herself. She’d come in here with the intention of seducing him and she hadn’t given a thought to the most important element of that union. So much for her genius IQ in the heat of the moment.
“I’ll take care of it.” He stepped away and disappeared from her room, his jeans slung low on his hips. Lean muscles rippled with every step.
She was an intelligent, modern woman. A scientist. A woman of logic. She liked to believe she would have realized before it was too late…. Before she could complete the thought, Rowan returned. He tossed a box of condoms on the bed.
“My goodness,” she said, smiling, “you’re an ambitious man.”
“I’ll take that as another challenge.”
“Sounds like one where we’re both winners. Now how about getting rid of those jeans.”
“Your wish is my command, Princess.” He toed off his shoes, no socks on, and peeled down his jeans without once taking his eyes off her.
His erection strained against his boxers and she opened her arms for him to join her. Then he was kissing her again and, oh, my, but that man knew how to kiss. The intensity of him, the way he was so completely focused on her and the moment fulfilled a long-ignored need to be first with a man. How amazing that the man who would view her this way—see only her—would be Rowan.
He reclined with her on the bed, into the thick comforter and stack of tapestry pillows, the crash and recede of the waves outside echoing the throb of her pulse. The sound of the shore, the luxurious suite, the hard-bodied man stretched over her was like a fantasy come true.
Only one thing kept it from being complete—something easily taken care of. She hooked her thumbs into the band of his boxers and inched them down. He smiled against her mouth as his underwear landed on the floor. Finally—thank heavens—finally, they met bare body to bare body, flesh-to-flesh. The rigid length of him pressed against her stomach, heating her with the promise of pleasure to come.