Postcards From… Collection. Maisey Yates

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helped her out of her dress that things really had changed. She’d seen raw desire in his eyes as he’d looked at her, and when he’d touched her she’d clamped her mouth tightly closed, worried she might say something and give herself away—because she’d wanted him to touch her.

      She should be grateful he hadn’t said a word about the previous night other than to make small talk about the party itself, but she wasn’t. It didn’t feel right, ignoring whatever it was that sizzled between them. With a huff of irritation, she flung back the covers. There was no way she could sleep now. Her mind was alive with questions and her body still yearned for a man who didn’t want her.

      Silently she left her room and padded across the polished wooden floor to the kitchen as the sounds of a city which never seemed to sleep played out in the background. Was this what her life would be like from now on? Would she be hiding an ever-deepening affection for the father of her child for ever? Could she live like that?

      She poured some water and went to sit by the windows, needing the peaceful view of the park to soothe her tortured emotions. She just couldn’t be falling for Nikolai, not when all she’d wanted was that happy-ever-after with a man who loved her. But she’d never get that happiness now, even by marrying Nikolai. He didn’t love her and had made it clear their marriage was to be nothing more than a deal.

      ‘Are you unwell?’ Nikolai’s voice startled her, but when she looked up she was even more startled. Just as he’d done that night in Vladimir, he’d pulled on a pair of jeans, and looked so incredibly sexy she had to stop herself from taking in a deep and shuddering breath.

      ‘I couldn’t sleep.’ She tried hard to avert her gaze from his bare chest, but couldn’t. All she could think about was lying with her arms across it last night. She could still feel the muscles beneath her palm and distinctly remembered the scent of his aftershave invading her sleep. What else was she going to remember?

      ‘But you are feeling quite well?’ The concern in his voice was touching and she smiled at him.

      ‘I’m fine, just not sleepy.’ She didn’t have much chance of feeling sleepy now after seeing him like that. All her senses were on high alert, her body all but tuned into his.

      His gaze travelled down her bare legs and she realised how she must look, sat on the sofa wearing only a vest top and skimpy shorts, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it now, not without alerting him to the fact that she was far from comfortable having a discussion with him when they were both half-undressed. It was much too intimate.

      ‘Is it because you are alone tonight? Nobody to curl up with?’ The seductive huskiness of his voice held a hint of laughter. Was he making fun of her?

      She looked up at him and knew that wasn’t true. He moved closer and stood over her, his dark eyes seeming to penetrate deep inside her, searching for something. ‘About—about last night...’ she managed to say, but hated the way she stumbled over the words. ‘What I mean is, did we...? Did anything happen between us?’

      The air heated around them, laden with explosive sexual tension, but she couldn’t look away, couldn’t break the connection which was becoming more intense by the second.

      ‘Trust me, Emma, you’d remember if it had.’ A smile lifted his lips and a hint of mischief sparked in his eyes.

      He was making fun of her.

      ‘Oh,’ she said softly, heat infusing her cheeks.

      ‘You sound as if you’re disappointed to discover that we slept in the same bed without having sex.’ Like a brooding presence, he towered over her, suffocating the very air she breathed, making her pulse leap wildly. ‘It can of course be rectified.’

      This time she wasn’t able to stop the ragged intake of breath or the shudder of desire. He wanted her. Just as she wanted him. It was like the night in Vladimir all over again. Then she had believed she was giving in to the allure of a powerful sexual attraction for just one night; even though they were to be married, she knew this was exactly that again. He didn’t love her. This was nothing more than sex.

      Her heart thumped hard, and warnings echoed in her mind, but she didn’t want to heed them. She wanted Nikolai, wanted him to desire her, and the allure of that was more powerful than the prophecy of a broken heart.

      The seconds ticked by and the power of the sexual chemistry between them increased as surely as if he’d touched her. Her body yearned for his touch, her lips craved his kiss, but most of all she wanted his possession. She wanted to be his.

      * * *

      Nikolai stood over Emma as she sat and looked up at him. Did she have any idea just how damn sexy she looked in that white vest top, her nipples straining against the fabric? As for the white shorts, well, he couldn’t go there or he’d drag her off to his room like a Neanderthal.

      ‘We could rectify it now—tonight.’ The lust coursing through him had got the better of him, and he spoke the words before he had time to think, but, judging by the sexy, impish smile, it wasn’t something she was horrified by.

      ‘Could we?’ Her voice was husky, teasing him and testing him. Damn it. What was the point in denying the attraction which fizzed around them? He wanted her and, unless he was very much mistaken, she wanted him too.

      ‘I want you, Emma,’ he said and held out his hand to her, more emotionally exposed than he’d ever been in his life. He had no idea how, but this woman was dismantling every barrier he’d erected to shut himself away, to prevent himself from ever having to feel anything for anyone.

      The silky softness of her throat moved as she swallowed, her gaze fixed on his. Then she parted her lips, the small movement so sexy he almost groaned out loud. Finally she took his hand, placing hers in his, and he pulled her gently to her feet and towards him.

      Shock rocked through him as her body collided with his and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him. Her body seemed to beg his for more, but he wanted to hear it from her lips, needed to know this was what she wanted. ‘Is this what you want?’

      She slipped from his embrace and he drew in a sharp breath as she crossed her arms in front of her and, taking hold of her vest top and pulling it over her head, threw it carelessly to the floor. His gaze devoured her slender figure, her full breasts, and he clenched his hands into tight fists as he fought to hold on to control. But when she slithered the white shorts down her legs, kicking them aside, he knew that control was fading fast.

      It was like Vladimir all over again. Except this time he didn’t have to worry about consequences. This time he could make her his totally.

      ‘Yes.’ That one word was a husky whisper that sent fire all over him at the knowledge this woman was his, and the fact that she’d given him her virginity only increased the power of that idea.

      He closed his eyes briefly against the need to take her quickly, to thrust into her and possess her more completely than he had ever taken a woman before. She’d only ever known his touch and because of that he had to take it slowly, make this a night of pure pleasure for both of them.

      Slowly he undid his jeans, maintaining eye contact with her as he removed them to stand before her as naked as she was. A dart of satisfied pleasure zipped through him as she lowered her gaze to look at him, arousing him still further.

      She moved back to him, looking into his eyes and taking on the role of seductress, just as she had in Vladimir;

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