Australian Bachelors: Masterful Magnates: Purchased: His Perfect Wife. HELEN BIANCHIN
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Had he slept during the flight? Perhaps not. He bore the invincible air of a man well used to spending long hours in the air on a regular basis.
The trick to minimizing the effects of jet lag meant adopting the current time-zone, and given it was close to midnight slipping into bed seemed a sensible option.
‘You want to take the shower first, or share mine?’
Get naked with him? He had to be kidding!
Oh, get real. Tonight they’d share more than the bed. Why not view a shared shower as a tantalizing preliminary?
A fleeting thought, and one she didn’t quite have the courage to implement.
Lara extracted nightwear and toiletries from her bag and crossed to the en suite. ‘I won’t be long.’
She took a few seconds to admire the splendid marble tiles lining the floor and walls, the luxurious accoutrements, then she turned on the water, set the temperature dial and quickly stripped off her clothes.
Bliss, she acknowledged as she picked up the scented soap and began smoothing it over her body. The water felt good and she lifted her face, letting the warmth flow onto it.
She didn’t hear the faint sound of the bathroom door closing, only the slight snick as the partitioned glass opened, and she gasped out loud as Wolfe stepped into the large cubicle.
An arm automatically crossed over her breasts while the other defended the curling hair at the apex of her thighs.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she managed as he took the soap from her hand and pulled her away from the direct water spray.
‘Bathing you.’
He sounded amused, and her eyes widened as he stepped behind her and began smoothing the scented bar down the length of her spine, sensitizing her skin.
Her body swayed slightly in reaction to his touch, and she had no control over the sudden clenching sensation deep inside.
Oh … The slight groan died in her throat.
She wasn’t ready for this. Not here, in the shower …
Does it matter where? a tiny voice silently taunted.
Gently, with evocative slowness, he covered every inch of her back, the curve of her bottom, then he moved his hands up and began shaping her shoulders.
Lara felt the touch of his mouth against her nape before it trailed to the sensitive hollow at the edge of her neck, lingered there, then nibbled a little using the edge of his teeth before soothing the faintly abraded skin with an open-mouthed kiss.
It would be so easy to lean back against him, to silently indicate her compliance to everything he asked of her. Yet she couldn’t quite bring herself to take that step.
What was wrong with her?
All she had to do was summon the courage and act a part.
Not even act, the tiny voice taunted remorsefully.
This was Wolfe … the one man who possessed the power to render her mindless.
Even now her heart hammered to a quickened beat as sensation swept through her body, and she became consumed by a deep, throbbing ache so intense it felt as if she was on fire.
With infinite care he turned her round to face him and he took hold of her chin, tilting it so she had little choice but to look at him.
His tall, broad frame seemed large in the confines of the glass cubicle, and her eyes became huge dark pools as he lowered his head and captured her mouth with his own. She expected a deliberate assault on her senses, but he kept it light, cupping her head between both hands as he gently explored the soft, moist inner tissues and savoured the contours of her tongue with the edge of his own.
The temptation to lift her arms high, link her hands at his nape and lean in against him was almost impossible to resist, and she uttered an indistinct sound as he brushed her lips with his own before lifting his head.
For an infinitesimal second she felt confused and slightly bereft as he turned slightly … then he picked up the discarded soap and handed it to her.
‘Your turn, hmm?’
He had to be joking, surely?
Her hesitation brought a gleam of amusement, and he simply covered her hand with his own as he began smoothing the soap over his chest.
It was hopelessly erotic as she covered toned musculature that shifted with fluid, masculine grace beneath her touch. The tight abs, hard six-pack, to the curve of his waist.
She paused momentarily when she reached his navel, then stilled, all too aware of the potent force of his arousal.
The blatant sexuality was vaguely intimidating. Each of her previous sexual encounters … the very few of them, she amended silently … had been conducted in a bed, beneath the covers, with the lights turned off. A consensual coupling evolving from a long, affectionate friendship.
Sharing a shower was a first. Hell, total nudity in the full illuminating glare of light was another first!
Could she play the seductive vamp? Touch him, explore his body with confidence? Offer herself freely without any of the hesitant insecurity and shyness playing havoc with her senses?
Wolfe’s gaze narrowed fractionally as he witnessed the fast-beating pulse at the base of her throat, the faint compulsive movement as she swallowed … and he lifted their joined hands to his mouth.
Then he released her.
For a moment she could only look at him blankly, gaining nothing from his expression, and her eyes widened as he cupped her cheek and pressed the pad of his thumb to her lower lip.
‘Go get dry, hmm? I’ll be out in a minute.’
What did he see? Her sense of regret … remorse?
She felt a slight tinge of warmth colour her cheeks, and she turned to escape from the shower cubicle.
Within seconds she caught up a fluffy bath-towel and quickly wound it sarong-fashion round her slim curves.
Damn it, she wouldn’t flee.
Instead, she dried off, completed her nightly routine, then she tended to her hair, aware Wolfe stepped out from the shower, hitched a towel round his hips and used another towel to dry off.
He’d given her some breathing space … but for how long?
Minutes, she realized, as he unceremoniously lifted her into his arms, walked into the bedroom and slid her down to stand on her feet.
She wanted this. Hadn’t she fantasized about being with him? Ached in her teenaged heart, and dreamt how it might be? Even wished to be his wife?
Foolish childish imaginings she’d thought could never come to fruition.