and secured these rooms prior to her arriving at the restaurant and had been at this door ever since.
They were very mundane details that were decidedly unromantic, but they had each been one of the many tiny steps that had carried her toward this moment.
“I am fascinated with this dress,” Kasim said, picking up her hand and carrying it over her head, urging her to twirl very slowly before him. “It is a work of art. I’m afraid to touch it.” He lowered her hand, but kept it in his, so they were facing one another. “But I want to touch you.”
His words made her heart stutter. She tugged free of his grip and walked to an end table where she set down her pocketbook.
“I’m not used to being touched.”
“I’m not going to chase you through these rooms, Angelique. If you’ve changed your mind, say so.”
She turned to face him. “I haven’t. I’m just nervous.”
“Don’t be. I won’t rush you.”
He didn’t have to. She was rushing herself, not ignoring misgivings so much as refusing to give in to the natural hesitation that had held her back one way or another most of her life. If her sister hadn’t pressed her toward this fashion house idea, she never would have had the nerve.
So part of her was saying, Don’t be impulsive. But the truth was, this moment had been brewing since their kiss this afternoon.
This was why she had come to dinner with him. She was a person of deep feeling and what he made her feel was too strong to resist. She had never felt so much like herself as she did with this man.
But she wanted to be herself. She wanted him to want Angelique.
She lowered the zip on the back of her dress, slowly drawing the shoulders down her arms and very carefully stepping out of it without letting the skirt brush the floor.
Kasim’s inhale was audible over the quiet music, sounding as a long, sharp hiss.
“You, however…” he said in a rasp. “Seem in a big hurry.”
“You said you were afraid to touch it.” Avoiding looking at him, she took great care with folding the dress in half lengthwise, then gently set it on the arm of the wingback chair.
She was naked except for her high silver shoes and a pair of lavender cheekies that cut a wide swath of lace across her hips and the top half of her buttocks. She had done enough quick changes backstage alongside half-naked models that she wasn’t particularly self-conscious.
Nevertheless, it was intimidating to turn and face him. At the same time, it was a rebirth of sorts, standing there naked and vulnerable. Tears flew into her eyes at the significance of shedding the shield of her sister and being only Angelique.
Would he like her?
“What’s this?” Kasim murmured, coming forward to cup her face and make her meet his gaze with her wet one.
“I don’t often let myself be.” Life was far easier when she kept her thoughts on the future or her sister or a piece of fabric. Allowing the moment to coalesce around her, so she experienced the full spectrum of emotions he provoked—impatience and sexual yearning, uncertainty and deep attraction—it was huge and scary.
She smoothed her hand down the lapel of his suit jacket, then warily looked up at him, fearful of what she might find in his gaze.
What she saw made the ground fall away beneath her feet.
His eyes were hungry and fierce, but there was something tender there, too.
“I’ll take care of you,” he promised in a low growl, then dipped his head to kiss her.
She started slightly as his arms went around her and a jolt of such acute pleasure went through her it was almost like a shock of electricity.
He paused briefly, gentled his kiss. Then, as she pressed into him, encouraging him to continue, he deepened it, sweet yet powerful, making her knees weaken.
They quietly consumed one another. She speared her fingers into his hair and met his tongue with her own and let herself flow wholly into the kiss.
Releasing a jagged noise, he pulled away and threw off his jacket. Yanked at the buttons on his shirt. “Damn you for being so far ahead of me. You do this.”
He left his shirt open but tucked in and set his hands on her bare waist, capturing her lips with his as he ran his hands around to her lower back, making her shiver then melt as he molded her closer. They were chest to chest, hot dry skin to hot hairy chest.
A sob of broken pleasure escaped her. More. She needed more of him, and pushed at his shirt, smoothing her hands over the powerful shape of his shoulders. With a brief pull back, she yanked his shirt free of his pants, then they were embracing again, her hands free to steal beneath the hanging tails of his shirt to caress the warmth of his flexing back.
Skin. Lips. A cold belt buckle against her bare stomach and a hard shape behind his fly that made her both nervous and excited. She had never abandoned herself to desire, had never allowed herself to be so vulnerable, but she didn’t have a choice. Time stopped. All she knew was the feel of him stroking her skin, pressing her closer, fondling her breast then looking at where her nipple stabbed at his palm.
He bent and covered the tight bead with his hot mouth, tongue playing in a way that had her shuddering as ripples of pure delight went straight down her middle to pool in her loins. When he moved to the other one, she ran her hands through his hair, loving the feel of the soft spiky strands between her fingers, and spoke his name like an endearment.
A moment later, he dropped to his knees, taking her underpants as he went and leaving them twisted on her shoes as he stroked his hands up and down her thighs, gaze so hot on the flesh he had bared that she felt it. Her inner muscles tightened and a press of moisture wet her lower lips in anticipation.
She closed her eyes, blocking out anything but the sensation of his light touch, so delicate she barely felt the caress at first, but she was so sensitive it took nothing but the graze of a fingertip to make her throb.
Her breath rasped over the music. He stole one taste and she fisted her hand in his hair. Her stomach muscles knotted with excited need.
His caress deepened and she sobbed as glittering sensations poured through her. Her knees wanted to collapse, but she held very still as his lovemaking intensified and her arousal doubled upon itself until she was saying his name over and over, pushing her hips in an erotic rhythm and she was dying, dying, because it was so good.
Climax arrived as a wave of pleasure that had her tipping back her head to release her cry of joy toward the ceiling, body shuddering, hard hands on her hips the only way she remained standing.
“Your guards might have heard that,” he said with smug lust, rising before her.
Her heart lurched.
His command of her and the moment stung. Not so much the guards hearing, although that was hideously embarrassing. No, it bothered her more that Kasim was significantly less affected by what had just happened than she was. She ought to be feeling like the selfish one, but it felt quite a bit like he had benefited
