to know that he felt this magic to the degree she did.
She cupped his jaw. ‘Eduardo.’
No matter that he hadn’t given her leave to address him by his Christian name. No matter that he was a prince and she a nobody. In this moment there was nothing but naked joy. No past, no promises. Nothing but now.
She groaned. ‘Please.’
She wanted him to move faster again, as he had before, when he’d been clothed and rocking against her. She spread her hands wide on his butt, squeezing the tight muscles, feeling the bunched strength of him slowly pumping into her.
It was so carnal. So delightful. Utterly unlike anything she’d known. And utterly addictive.
She didn’t want it to end. Yet she wanted something more so badly. She wanted him to feel this completion with her.
She moaned in frustration as he kept the pace infuriatingly yet tantalisingly slow. She could no longer form words, no longer think. She could only moan and strive to kiss him more.
Finally he moved faster. His thrusts became rougher. He cupped her buttocks with both his hands now, holding her so he could grind into her as deep as he could drive himself. The hold plastered him against her, sealing them tight together.
She loved it. She met his thrusts with hers, over and over, their bodies wet with sweat now rather than sea water. Her fingers curled, clawing into his skin.
‘Look at me,’ he ordered harshly through tightly clenched teeth.
She already was. She couldn’t look away. She’d never been able to look away.
His eyes bored into hers, their blue irises obliterated by passion-inflamed pupils. Only then her vision swam as her orgasm finally slammed into her like a wave sweeping over a rudderless yacht. She was capsized into a tumultuous sea of sensation.
His expression tightened almost to pain as he worked to hold his own release at bay. Instinctively she understood that he wanted to make her succumb once more before he did. But all she wanted was to feel his unrestrained passion. Somehow she had to summon it.
As her orgasm ebbed and feelings of bliss stole into every cell she fought harder, her fingers bruising, her mouth sucking, her tongue licking. She sought to touch him all over, to pull him over the edge with her. She poured every ounce of power she had into the passion she felt. Into somehow showing him what she wanted. And needed.
That was when she finally felt his massive body shaking—when his roar reverberated into her mouth as he gave in to it and released his hold on himself. His final thrusts came in a torrent of fury and lust. His satisfaction spurted. He shouted loud and rough, and sent her tumbling into the velvety hot darkness again.
He rested for only a moment. His breath blew hot and quick on her neck. Then his biceps bunched as he braced and pulled free of her embrace.
Suddenly empty and cold, she remained prone on the sand and shielded her eyes with her arm. She didn’t want to answer the questions she knew he was going to throw at her.
But he didn’t savage her. There was only silence.
Eventually she lowered her hand, forcing herself to look at him.
He was watching her face intently, and then ever so slowly he gazed down her body. The expression in his eyes was bleak and forbidding. She sat up, but it was too late to hide. The smear of rust-coloured blood on her thigh was incontrovertible evidence. But he already knew the truth.
‘Why?’ he asked harshly.
She had no answer she could give him.
‘You should have told me.’
‘I didn’t think it was important.’
‘You did not act like a virgin,’ he said icily.
‘How is a virgin supposed to act?’ she asked, every bit as frozen.
Shouldn’t she have enjoyed it? Shouldn’t she have pushed for all that she had? But she had enjoyed it. She’d been unrestrained, unfettered in her actions. And untutored.
She hadn’t been able to control her reaction to him. She’d been utterly lost in that flare of desire for him. And she refused to regret it now. She didn’t want him to regret it either. But it seemed he already did.
Before she could move he picked up her wallet, which she’d tossed to the side in her haste. Before she could think to snatch it from him he’d flicked it open, was reading her identity card.
The last of the delicious heat that had softened her fled. Dread solidified into a cold ball in the pit of her belly.
‘Zambrano... Lieutenant.’ He stood utterly still. ‘No relation of General Zambrano?’ He glanced at her, swiftly taking in her colouring, her features. ‘His daughter,’ he said brusquely.
He didn’t need to look at her as if she’d done something wrong.
‘You should have told me!’ he suddenly shouted. Irate.
But if she had he’d have stopped. He’d have recognised her surname and refused to continue. If she’d told him she was a virgin he’d have stopped then too. And she hadn’t wanted him to stop. She’d wanted this one thing, this one time, for herself.
But she hadn’t stopped to consider the consequences—these appalling moments afterwards. And the possible ramifications for her career.
She hadn’t thought he’d even notice her virgin status. She hadn’t thought it would be so obvious. She led such a physical life she’d not really thought she’d bleed. And she hadn’t thought it would really hurt like that. Nor had she thought it would feel that fantastic.
‘Why did you do this?’ He grabbed her arm. ‘I hurt you.’
The bruise around his eye was livid now—but it was nothing on the anger within his eyes.
A good soldier knew when to attack, when to stand and defend, and when to retreat. There was only one option for Stella now. She jerked her arm—was surprised when he let her go. Then she turned and struggled to pull her sodden shorts back on. She pulled the tee shirt on too. She didn’t bother with the ugly sports bra and plain panties, or even her shoes.
‘What are you doing?’ His voice was lethally quiet now.
‘I need to get back to the base.’
‘I will escort you there.’
‘You will not. You will go...wherever you were going in that.’ She gestured at the sodden sand-splattered suit now in a crumpled heap at his feet.
He glanced down and swore.
Stella turned away from him again—from the sight of him standing there tall and naked and filled with burning emotion. A crazy part of her wanted him all over again.
‘Lieutenant—’
‘No. There’s no need to say anything.’ She hated it that he referred
