line of hair that bisected his body started to broaden out after it had crossed the taut plain of his belly. Once and only once she had attempted to trace that line, but then she had only got as far as the waistband of the jeans he had been wearing. Now … She was suddenly finding it very difficult to swallow, Sophia realised, and even more difficult to drag her gaze away from Ash’s body.
‘By rights I ought to instruct my captain to turn this plane round and—’
‘No!’ So great was her panic that Sophia didn’t stop to think as she launched herself towards Ash, reaching out to grasp his arm, her eyes brilliant with fear and pleading as she looked up into his, totally oblivious to the fact that her anxious movement towards him had dragged down the bedding that had been protecting her nudity.
Her breasts were everything he had known they would be, Ash thought, her waist every bit as narrow and her hips every bit as lusciously curved. The tiny bikini pants she was wearing were somehow more a provocation highlighting her sex than a means of covering it. Deep down inside him a truth that refused to be ignored was surging through him. Whether he liked it or not, he wanted her.
In the soft light of the room her skin glowed, her tan contrasting with the white bedding, the lush sensual promise of her body emphasised by the almost monastic and starkness of the decor. Until now he hadn’t realised just how much the clinical decor reflected the emotional emptiness of his life. Now, though, the sight of Sophia’s near-naked body with its ripe readiness for sex had the effect on him of tightening an already-too-coiled spring of needs and desires that had tormented him all evening.
The plane dropped several feet, catching Sophia off guard as she struggled to pull up the sheet to cover her nakedness, her breath escaping from her lungs in a soft gasp as the movement of the plane threw her towards the edge of the bed.
Instinctively Ash reached out to stop her from falling. Instinctively, and disastrously, because it was her naked body he was now holding and his own was reacting to that fact. He had to let her go. He had to leave this cabin, but instead he was moving closer to her.
This couldn’t be happening. It must not be happening, Sophia told herself. But it was too late. It was happening, and somehow it seemed that her treacherous body wanted it to happen even though that should have been impossible.
He shouldn’t be doing this. He didn’t want to be doing this, Ash told himself, but he was, the lean darkness of his hand cupping one of her breasts whilst his lips feathered tiny tormenting kisses around the nipple of the other.
She wanted to deny him, to stop him, to tell him that this must not happen, but like a sealed jar of sweetly potent honey-infused wine exposed to the sun’s heat, the seal on her emotions and needs melted beneath his touch, leaving the sweet wine of her own desire to spill hotly through her veins.
Where did it come from, this instinct that was pure and intense? After all, she had no past experience of this kind of intimacy, no matter what others might think. But now, it had her reaching out to clasp Ash’s head between her hands to hold him to her breast whilst her body arched, her head thrown back in an agonised delirium of a desire she wanted to reject but couldn’t. A wild febrile urgency possessed her.
Her nipples, sensitised by his touch, and the shockingly fierce tug of his mouth, were sending almost violent spasms of erotic raw need to every part of her body, but most of all to the trembling aching heart of her sex. The pulse that sprung up there was growing more insistent, more urgent, more demanding, with every touch of Ash’s hands and mouth. It was as though, deep within her, the womanhood she had told herself she had guarded so assiduously for the man who would love her and take away the pain Ash’s rejection had caused her was pushing against the bonds of her virginity, swelling and softening, pulsing with its female need for the man arousing it so intensely.
Ash groaned. She was everything he had never allowed himself to imagine that she would be and more. Now, with the iron denial he had been trying all evening to forge around his desire for her to seal himself off from it, broken apart by the strength of that desire, he had no need to imagine what it would be like to give in to the lure of her, because he was already doing it.
She smelled of vanilla and almonds, her flesh dew-damp from her own arousal, the dark crowns of her nipples hard eager tellers of female need. He parted her thighs with his hand, caressing their sensitive inner flesh, his own body responding to her shudder of reaction and soft moan of impatient need. He was hard and ready, the head of his erection swollen and taut. Her briefs had bows at the sides which he unfastened with a tug. Her sex was bare to his gaze and touch, her Brazilian wax revealing its delicate shape. He was just reaching out to part its neatly folded outer lips when there was a knock on the cabin door and it started to open.
There was barely time for him to thrust the sheet over Sophia’s nakedness and conceal his own body with the robe he was still wearing before the steward was in the room, his eyes widening as he apologised and started to back out, telling him that the captain wanted him to know that strong head winds meant that their flight would be delayed by fifteen minutes or so.
An icy cold revulsion every bit as all-consuming as his desire had been earlier gripped him. How could he have behaved as he had?
‘You’d better get dressed,’ he told Sophia without looking at her as he started to move away from her. They dressed in silence before moving out into the cabin.
What on earth had possessed her? Sophia felt sick with shock and disbelief, unable to say a word.
Eventually the captain announced that they were coming in to land. Ash hadn’t spoken to her once since they had left the bedroom, and Sophia hadn’t wanted him to. She was still in shock and bitterly angry with herself for her own behaviour.
His curt warning, ‘Seat belt,’ broke the silence between them, and had her fumbling with the straps, the colour crawling up under her skin as she caught the look that the hovering steward was giving her. He might not have seen her naked body thanks to Ash’s prompt action but he knew exactly what had been happening; his look told her that.
In the past when men had given her that lustful knowing look she had been protected from it by the truth that only she knew—namely that no man had ever touched her intimately or shared her bed—but now thanks to her own betrayal of herself she had no defence against it. And there was no one to protect her from the pride-savaging pain of that. No one. For the rest of her life now she would know and remember how she had let herself down by succumbing to a … a need she had believed she had conquered years ago, Sophia acknowledged as the plane came in to land.
It would be a long flight to London, and she hoped that she wouldn’t have to wait too long at the airport before beginning it.
She looked at her watch. At home people would be waking up, and her maid would be discovering that her room was empty and that her bed hadn’t been slept in. Her stomach churned, but now more than ever she knew that she could not marry the Spanish prince her father had chosen for her.
Ash was unfastening his seat belt and standing. Automatically Sophia did the same.
‘My case …’ she began when Ash headed towards the door that the steward was just beginning to open for them.
‘Leave it,’ Ash told her curtly as he indicated that she was to precede him to the now-open door. ‘The steward will attend to it.’
‘But I want to get on the first flight I can …’ Sophia began, only to come to an abrupt halt, her face paling as she looked out of the door of the plane and saw the camera crews and photographers jostling for position at the bottom of the steps. Paparazzi.
Obviously
