‘Yes, thank you,’ she answered, deciding a simple reply was her best course.
‘Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?’ he growled. ‘It was too damned late to stop.’
‘I didn’t want you to stop.’
He heaved himself up so she flopped onto her back and he was leaning over her, bristling with dominating aggression. ‘You’re twenty-four years old. I didn’t expect it. What the hell does this mean, Tamalyn?’
‘Like you said…there’s a first time for everything. You don’t have to make a big deal of it, Fletcher.’
His eyes searched hers with angry intensity. ‘Did I hurt you?’
‘Only for a second. Everything was quite brilliant after that.’
‘Brilliant…’ He repeated the word savagely as though he couldn’t believe she meant it. ‘It wasn’t right. It wasn’t how I intended it to be. I didn’t want Wham! Bam! Thank you, ma’am with you, and be damned if I’ll let it go at that.’
She smiled, a fierce satisfaction zinging through her at the realisation she had upset his winning plan for tonight. ‘I liked it fine the way it was,’ she said, wondering if it was possible to drive him off course tomorrow, as well.
He bared his teeth but it wasn’t really a smile, more like a dangerous animal about to bite. ‘Okay, you’ve had your way. Now we’ll have mine. Stay right there!’ he commanded, rolling swiftly off the bed, standing over her and holding up a halting hand to forbid any movement. ‘I’m going to run a spa bath for us to relax in for a while.’
‘Okay.’ A bath sounded like a good idea.
Strange, how their physical intimacy had freed her of inhibitions. Here she was, lying in naked abandonment, and actually enjoying watching him walk to a door just beyond his side of the bed, admiring his perfectly male physique: broad muscular shoulders, chest tapering down to lean hips and a taut cheeky butt, strong athletic legs.
He disappeared inside what was obviously an ensuite bathroom. She heard taps running. Then he was back, striding past the Chinese screen to the living area, returning a few minutes later carrying a silver tray loaded with an ice bucket containing a bottle of champagne, two flute glasses and a dish of strawberries with what had to be fancy chocolates wrapped in coloured cellophane.
‘I called the hotel and ordered this to be brought up to the suite while you were saying goodbye to Kirsty,’ he informed her, eyes flashing determination to pursue his plan. ‘We shall relax and refresh ourselves.’
‘How romantic of you!’ Tammy mocked, glad she had totally sabotaged his seductive scenario and knocked his arrogant confidence that he could arrange everything his way. ‘Do you organise all your one-night stands like this?’
He stopped in his tracks, glaring at her with black resentment. ‘No, I don’t! I had this ridiculous urge to pleasure you in every conceivable way, Tamalyn Haynes.’
She propped herself up on her elbows, cocking her head consideringly. ‘You had a fantasy about me and I spoiled it by not fitting into it as you envisaged. That’s why you’re vexed.’
His breath hissed out between his teeth. The tension in his face relaxed into an ironic smile. ‘I didn’t expect the reality to be dynamite, blowing me to smithereens. I need some time to get myself back together. Is it too much to ask for you to oblige me?’
‘I like being asked rather than commanded.’ And it wouldn’t hurt him to start caring about what she wanted.
‘Right!’ The smile gathered some charm. ‘Will you join me for a bubble bath?’
‘Mmm…some bubbles inside and out should give us a lift,’ she said provocatively, casting a wickedly teasing glance below the silver tray with the champagne as she swung herself off the bed. The more she unhinged him from his arrogant confidence, the more he might review her value to him.
‘Hope the bathroom provides some pins to do up my hair,’ she added, lifting the long tresses from her neck and giving them a tumbling shake while she preceded him into the bathroom, walking with a jaunty sway—actions she hoped were so hypnotically sexy he wouldn’t notice any defects in her female physique, like a few cellulite dimples in her bottom.
Her breasts were fine, reasonably full and firm. She had a slender waist, nicely curved hips and good legs. Only her bottom was a bit of a worry and the sooner it was sitting in the spa bath covered by a frothing blanket of bubbles, the more comfortable she’d feel about it.
‘You are one hell of a challenging witch. You know that?’ came the growled comment behind her.
‘Just being me,’ she said airily. ‘Take it or leave it.’
‘Oh, I’ll take it,’ he drawled, his voice dripping with relish for the task.
Quite clearly her dimpled bottom had not turned him off. Tammy proceeded with more confidence to the vanity bench in the bathroom, intent on searching the drawers for pins. Her hair looked like rats’ tails when it was wet, totally unsexy. Having taken Lucy’s advice, she was thinking that maybe appealing to the brain below Fletcher’s belt might get her to the brain above it.
The bathroom was as splendid as the rest of the penthouse suite—all black marble, gold taps, big fluffy white towels, a very artistic arrangement of red lilies in a sparse Japanese style and providing every possible amenity including hair-pins. She eyed her reflection in the mirror as she piled her hair on top of her head in a fairly loose concoction of curls and fastened them in place.
Black hair…a pity she wasn’t a witch with the power to keep Fletcher spellbound forever. If she could somehow make this a magic night so he’d keep coming back for more of what they could have together, maybe he would end up loving her, not wanting to live without her, so when he eventually did settle in Sydney…the image of being his bride flitted through her mind.
Fantasy…
She smiled wryly at herself. It certainly wasn’t his fantasy tonight. Yet if she happily went along with whatever he had in mind—providing it was acceptable to her—it was possible this could become a start towards what she had in mind.
The champagne cork popped.
The bath was a sea of bubbles. Fletcher turned off the taps and pressed the button to activate the spa. ‘It’s ready,’ he said.
‘Great!’ She stepped in and settled back against the gently shooting spurts of water, grinning at him. ‘Nothing like a spa bath for a feeling of decadence.’