She’d been instinctively fighting it ever since she’d met Nick and couldn’t stop herself even now when she had him—fool that she was, dismissing what obviously grabbed his attention.
‘I know it’s cotton underneath and that’s like you, too—sensible, practical, longer—lasting, wash and wear, easy and comfortable to live with,’ Nick rolled out as though revelling in both sides of her, his eyes teasing her insistence on flouting his flattery, seeming to enjoy her perversity.
‘Oh, great! That puts me in the same class as a pair of old underpants,’ tripped straight off her wayward tongue.
‘No, you’re in a class of your own.’ He withdrew his hand from her hair and pressed a light finger to her lips, the amusement in his eyes winking out as an emerald-fire intensity flared over it. ‘You don’t have to keep telling me you’re different to all the other women who’ve peopled my life. I hear it, I see it, I feel it, I taste it, I smell it. Every sense I have is constantly pointing it out to me.’
Right! So keep your mouth shut, Tess!
‘The whole problem was…’ he ran on ‘…you didn’t fit into my picture. So this time around, I’m beginning with you as the centrepiece and waiting and watching for the picture to develop around you. So let me focus on you, Tess. We will inevitably get to the cotton, but don’t deny the pleasure there is in the sumptuous sexuality you personify tonight.’
Wicked pleasure.
Designed to impact on him and give her the secret thrill of knowing it did. The battle of the sexes…another piece of compelling strategy. Nick knew it but it didn’t matter that he knew it because there was pleasure in it for both of them…pleasure in the simmering sensuality in his eyes as he stroked the silky red ringlets that shimmered with artificial gold, as he caressed the sensitive nape of her neck and slowly, slowly, slid the supporting straps of her body-flaunting dress from her shoulders, holding her in spellbound anticipation for more exquisite and intimate touches.
Nick knew how to kiss.
He knew how to touch.
The memory of their one previous night together was racing along her nerves, making them tremble with excitement. She closed her eyes as his gaze fell to the soft slopes of her breasts, the pads of his fingers grazing up and down, easing aside the filmy fabric, pushing closer and closer to the peaks.
‘Just as well Zack didn’t ever learn what he’s missing out on or he’d be screaming with frustration every time you give him a bottle,’ Nick murmured, cupping the full weight of one of her breasts and using his thumb to circle the now rock-hard aureole and nipple, making her ache for the maternal experience she was missing. ‘You were built for babies, Tess. And nothing is more sexy to a man…lovely soft, full breasts…’
He bent to kiss them, to gently suck on them, making every muscle in her body contract and quiver from the shafts of deep pleasure arcing from his mouth. His hands found the zipper at the back of her bodice, opened it, and the sheer weight of the layered and beaded skirt—no longer fastened to her waist—pulled the whole dress down into a flurry of frills around her feet. Only her mauve silk-and-lace panties saved her from being totally naked in front of him.
And he was still fully dressed!
‘Look at you…’ he said as he straightened up and stepped back from her, his hands lightly hooked on the curve of her hips near the elastic band of her panties, making her acutely aware of where his thumbs would move next.
‘I’d rather look at you,’ croaked from her hopelessly dry throat. She was burning up from the sudden rush of almost complete exposure, from her helpless response to Nick’s expertise in fuelling sexual excitement.
‘But you’re far more exotic. And erotic,’ he declared, grinning with wicked delight. ‘Fantastic fire and ice with those diamond earrings dangling against your hair and the pendant nestling where it is…’ His gaze sizzled down to her cleavage. ‘Not to mention…’ He tugged the panties down, his voice thickening as her most private place was revealed. ‘…snow-white thighs divided by a flaming arrow of hair.’
Her mind simply blew under the pressure of being so nakedly on show. His words probably should have banished the sense of his having preferred other women, but somehow they triggered a tormenting storm of stomach-wrenching comparisons.
‘I would have thought a Brazilian wax job was more to your taste,’ she snapped.
He shook his head. ‘It bares what should be a teasing mystery. You, Tess…’ He swept her off her feet and onto the bed, placing a knee between her thighs, accelerating her pounding sense of utter vulnerability. ‘…you…’ he growled emphatically, his eyes sizzling with satisfaction in the wild spill of her hair over the rich chocolate cushions. ‘…are the epitome of visual sexiness.’
True or not, Tess fiercely told herself to stop worrying about it. She could concentrate on him now. He was taking off his formal jacket, tossing it onto the floor. The black bowtie was swiftly pulled apart, the studs on his pristine pin-tucked shirt pushed open, cufflinks removed and dropped into a trouser pocket.
Her breath literally caught in her throat as he finally discarded the dress shirt. Photographs of beautiful men in the raw—even seeing them in action on movie or television screens—did not have the physical impact of the real thing.
Nick Ramirez was perfectly muscled where a man was supposed to be muscled and the shape of him was all in such elegant proportion it was positively awesome—the leashed power in his broad shoulders, the strong width of chest, his torso tapering with athletic precision to a flat stomach—but most stunning of all, the sudden expanse of satin-smooth skin, darkly gleaming with a kind of animal vitality that was totally mesmerising.
Even as her gaze gloated over his glorious masculinity, he was stripping off the rest of his clothes, adding to the magnetic enticement of power-packed manhood. She wanted to touch, wanted to taste, knew there couldn’t be a woman on earth who wouldn’t wish to have him available to her like this, wanting exactly what she wanted.
Nick was offering himself to her tonight.
Tess reached out and took, her hands gliding slowly, revelling in the silky heat of him, feeling it fire up the hectic and hungry desire already coursing through her blood, exciting her with the exhilarating knowledge that underneath this satin skin he was pumped up and hard with arousal.
Her mind filled with a wild wanton joy as she caressed him more intimately, provocatively, exulting in his desire for her, savagely wanting to drive it to blinding, deafening heights where he could see only her, hear only her, feel only her, know only her.