hot tub was bubbling temptingly and steam was rising into the night sky by the time she returned from the bedroom. There was a mountain range of foam waiting for her to step into. He was gazing east towards the Isla de Sinnebar when she pushed the door open and came out to meet him. His heart juddered when he saw her. He was still half naked and his feet were bare, while Lucy was wearing an abundance of duvet in stark white—and still managing to look indescribably lovely to him.
‘You won’t need the duvet in the hot tub.’ He grinned as he held out his hand to take it from her.
She stood her ground, clutching it tightly.
‘Have you changed your mind?’ He would never force her. ‘Do you want me to leave you to it?’
‘No need,’ she whispered. And taking a deep breath, she dropped the duvet and walked towards him.
Two more paces and she was in his arms.
‘Are you going to bathe with your clothes on, Mac?’
He smiled into her eyes. She was so trusting and so beautiful, and just for tonight they were going to live the dream.
She glanced at the glittering foam. ‘Shall I undress you?’ she suggested shyly. Her voice was shaking.
He smiled down at her. ‘Or you could enjoy the hot tub all by yourself.’
She held his gaze with her honest eyes. ‘I don’t trust myself in all that water without something to hold on to …’
His lips tugged in a grin. ‘You have all the answers, don’t you?’
‘It’s work in progress,’ she admitted with the truthfulness he loved about her, and then her face grew serious as she no doubt contemplated what was about to happen.
His mood changed too. Pushing the last of his doubts aside, he laced his fingers through her hair and, cupping her head, drew her close to kiss her. Her lips were plump and yielded softly beneath his mouth. Kissing Lucy filled him with feelings he couldn’t name—feelings it was better not to name. Sex was what they both wanted and needed, and sex, like skiing, was a sport at which he excelled.
CHAPTER SIX
SHE ran her palms across the wide spread of Mac’s shoulders and then down his arms, over muscles that bulged and flexed. His chest was shaded with just the right amount of dark hair that dipped in aV towards the buckle on his belt, below which she knew better than to look. But she couldn’t help herself—she should feel, had to feel, for the fastening on his jeans.
‘Need some help?’
Yes, she did, but she wasn’t about to admit it. Mac’s challenging smile, his strong white teeth, his lips, his tongue, promising far too much pleasure—the humour in his eyes, the pressure from his hands—she wanted everything he had to give her. ‘No, thank you.’ Her heart was pounding. She had to pretend she was up to this when she could hardly breathe. She rested her fingertips lightly on the top of his belt buckle and swallowed deep.
His kiss was still warm on her lips as he backed her towards the hot tub. She was in a daze as she felt the steps behind her heels. ‘Aren’t you overdressed?’ she gasped as Mac nuzzled her neck, oh, so lightly as a prelude to feathering his hands down her naked arms.
‘So? If I am undress me.’
Her eyes widened. She had imagined many things in the lonely wilderness of her bed, but never anything as erotic as the heat and humour radiating from Mac. But when he turned serious and started murmuring to her in a language she didn’t understand she was a little nervous—Or at least she might have been, but her body spoke in tongues—Mac was telling her what he’d like to do to her and in what order. ‘Oh, yes, please …’
She melted into him with a sharp exclamation of excitement. As he brushed a kiss across her neck she felt the promise of so much more, but Mac was in no hurry.
Telling herself she was relieved—that she needed time to handle the sensation of warm hard flesh on naked flesh—she allowed herself to relax against him. Tentatively lifting her arms, she laced her fingers in his hair and felt it spring thick and vital against her palms. This was wonderful. It was all she had ever dreamed of and more. Resting her face against his chest, she inhaled his clean, spicy scent, wanting to use all her senses to print the moment on her mind for ever. For ever—
She heard his jeans hit the floor, and shivered to think of him completely naked, but Mac was smiling against her lips, reassuring her. ‘Why are you trembling?’ he demanded huskily. ‘I’m just a man like any other.’
Now who was dreaming?
As he swung her into his arms she basked in his strength and in his care of her. When he lowered her carefully into the hot tub she was ready for him to join her. He stepped in and moved behind her so she could lean against him, and when he wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling her neck as if they were lovers of long standing, she felt complete.
The combination of red-hot Lucy and warm, silky water was more aphrodisiac than required. He wrapped his legs around her, enjoying her trust as she rested against him, registering the fact that she made him feel warm and centred. More than that, she made him feel at home in a foreign land. That was Lucy’s strength, her talent, he decided—the ability to create a haven, a sanctuary, a home. It seemed wrong that when, for the first time in his life, he wanted to progress a relationship, there was no chance with duty hammering on the door. But until then he would continue to drop kisses on her neck and shoulders and murmur words in his own language for the sheer pleasure of hearing her sigh. Kissing Lucy was equal to drowning in pleasure, and it was taking every bit of his control to hold back.
But then he noticed the silver necklace she was wearing and a worm of suspicion twisted in his gut. Was it a gift? If so, from whom?
It was none of his business—
He made it his business. Looping the dainty chain over his finger, he allowed the tiny silver slipper to dangle free. ‘Who gave you this?’ he murmured in between kissing her.
‘I did,’ she admitted.
‘You gave yourself a Cinderella slipper?’
She shifted in his arms. ‘It’s not that,’ she protested—a little too strongly, he thought. ‘It’s a reminder that one day I’ll wear something other than snow boots.’
He laughed softly, not believing her for a minute as he rasped his stubble lightly across the tender spot at the base of her neck. She laughed too—in between begging him for mercy, but he was touched by what she’d told him. ‘Some day your prince will come,’ he promised as he dropped more kisses on her neck and shoulders.
What if he’d already come—and she couldn’t have him? Lucy thought, starting nervously as Mac cupped her breasts. He had just reminded her that she was inexperienced—far more inexperienced than he had obviously imagined. Mac thought because her breasts were full and silky, along the lines magazines suggested were made to be admired, fondled and adored, she was used to this. If only he knew …
She cried out softly as he abraded the tips of her nipples very lightly with his thumbnails, wondering how she was supposed to remain silent and composed while he was working this sort of magic on her. Her nipples had never been so sensitive,
