as she started to climb over the rail.
She was fine-boned and supple and so easy to take in hand. Perhaps he took more enjoyment than he should in having another reason to touch her. Her skin was smooth and warm, her wrists delicate in his light grip as he calmly forced them behind her back, trapping her between the rail and his body.
She strained to look over her shoulder, muttering, “Oh, you—!” as something fell into the water with a glint of reflected light. “That was my credit card. Thanks a lot.”
“Viveka.” He was stimulated by the feel of her naked abdomen against his groin, erection not having subsided much and returning with vigor. Her spiked heels were gone, which was a pity. They’d been sexy as hell, but when it came to rubbing up against a woman, the less clothes the better.
She smelled of his shampoo, he noted, but there was an intriguing underlying scent that was purely hers: green tea and English rain. And that heady scent went directly into his brain, numbing him to everything but thoughts of being inside her.
Women were more subtle than men with their responses, but he read hers as clearly as a billboard. Not just the obvious signs like the way her nipples spiked against the pattern of her see-through bra cups, erotically abrading his chest and provoking thoughts of licking and sucking at them until she squirmed and moaned. A blush stained her cheeks and she licked her lips. There was a bonelessness to her. He could practically feel the way her blood moved through her veins like warm honey. He knew instinctively that opening his mouth against her neck would make her shiver and surrender to him. Her arousal would feed into his and they’d take each other to a new dimension.
Where did that ridiculous notion come from? He was no sappy poet. He tried to shake the idea out of his head, but couldn’t rid himself of the certainty that sex with her would be the best he’d ever known. They were practically catching fire from this light friction. His heart was ramping with strength in his chest, his body magnetized to hers.
He was incensed with her, he reminded himself, but he was also intrigued by this unique attunement they had. Logic told him it was dangerous, but the primitive male inside him didn’t give a damn. He wanted her.
“This is kidnapping. And assault,” she said, giving a little struggle against his grip. “I thought you didn’t hurt women.”
“I don’t let them hurt themselves, either. You’ll kill yourself jumping into the water out here.”
Something flickered in her expression. Her skin was very white compared with her sister’s. How had he not noticed that from the very first, veil notwithstanding?
“Stop behaving like a spoiled child,” he chided.
She swung an affronted look to him like it was the worst possible insult he could level at her. “How about you stop acting like you own the world?”
“This is my world. You walked into it. Don’t complain how I run it.”
“I’m trying to leave it.”
“And I’ll let you.” Something twisted in his gut, as if that was a lie. A big one. “After you fix the damage you’ve done.”
“How do you suggest I do that?”
“Marry me in your sister’s place.”
She made a choking noise and gave another wriggle of protest, heel hooking on the lower rung of the rail as if she thought she could lift herself backward over the rail.
All she managed to do was pin herself higher against him. She stilled. Hectic color deepened in her cheekbones.
He smiled, liking what she’d done. Her movement had opened her legs and brought her cleft up to nestle against his shaft. She’d caught the same zing of sexual excitement that her movement had sent through him. He nudged lightly, more of a tease than a threat, and watched a delicate shiver go through her.
It was utterly enthralling. He could only stare at her parted, quivering mouth. He wanted to cover and claim it. He wanted to drag his tongue over every inch of her. Wanted to push at his elastic waistband, press aside that virginal white lace and thrust into the heat that was branding him through the thin layers between them.
He had expected to spend this week frustrated. Now he began to forgive her for this switch of hers. They would do very nicely together. Very. Nicely.
“Let’s take this back to my stateroom.” His voice emanated from somewhere deep in his chest, thick with the desire that gripped him.
Her eyes flashed with fear before she said tautly, “To consummate a marriage that won’t happen? Did you see how Grigor reacted to me? He’ll never let me sub in for Trina. If anything would make him refuse your merger, marrying me would do it.”
* * *
Mikolas slowly relaxed his grip and stepped back, trailing light fingers over the seams at her hips.
Goose bumps rose all over her, but she ignored it, hoping her knickers weren’t showing the dampness that had released at the feel of him pressed against her.
What was wrong with her? She didn’t even do sex. Kissing and petting were about it.
She dipped to pick up the robe and knotted it with annoyance. How could she be this hot when the wind had cooled to unpleasant and the sky was thickening with clouds?
She sent an anxious look at the ever-shrinking island amid the growing whitecaps. It was way too far to swim. Mikolas might have done her a favor taking her out of Grigor’s reach, but being at sea thinned her composure like it was being spun out from a spool.
“You’re saying if I want Grigor to go through with the merger, I should turn you over to him?” he asked.
“What? No!” Such terror slammed into her, her knees nearly buckled. “Why would you even think of doing something like that?”
“The merger is important to me.”
“My life is important to me.” Tears stung her eyes and she had to blink hard to be able to see him. She had a feeling her lips were trembling. Where was the man who had saved her? Right now, Mikolas looked as conscienceless as Grigor.
Crushed to see that indifference, she hid her distress by averting her gaze and swallowed back the lump in her throat.
“This is nothing,” she said with as much calm as she could, pointing at her face, trying to reach through to the man who had said he didn’t hurt women. “Barely a starting point for him. I’d rather take my chances with the sharks.”
“You already have.” The flatness of his voice sent a fresh quake of uncertainty through her center.
What did it say about how dire her situation was that she was searching for ways to reach him? To persuade this shark to refrain from offering her giftwrapped to the other one?
“If—if—” She wasn’t really going to say this, was she? She briefly hung her head, but what choice did she have? She didn’t have to go all the way, just make it good for him, right? She had a little experience with that. A very tiny little bit. He was hard, which meant he was up for it, right? “If you want sex...”
He made a scoffing
