on, Lex,’ he said softly. ‘You’re surely not going to deny that you want me, that you aren’t standing there wondering what it would be like to kiss me again?’
‘I’m not.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘Believe what you want. It’s no—’
He silenced her by placing a finger over her lips and Lexi felt an instant, trembling response. Her eyes met his with a powerful feeling of recognition and she knew she should have protested. But she didn’t. She didn’t do a damned thing. Not even when he moved his finger to trace it slowly along the outline of her still-trembling lips.
It had been so long since he had touched her. She’d turned her life around and made the best of what she had but sometimes it just wasn’t enough. Outwardly she might look as if she was getting on and being successful, but wasn’t the truth that sometimes she felt cold and empty and only half alive?
She could feel the stir of her breath against his finger and he must have felt it, too, because she saw his eyes grow smoky. Another danger sign—because she knew how quickly he could become aroused. She knew how effortlessly he could carry her along on that urgent flare of heat. And then what? her conscience screamed. Then what?
She wanted to pull away, but she couldn’t. He might as well have turned her into a marble statue. But marble didn’t ache, did it? And marble didn’t feel this hot flood of desire, which was pulsing inexorably through her body. Lexi closed her eyes, biting back the gasp of longing which was threatening to spring from her lips. What did it say about her, that the tip of his finger edging almost innocently against her mouth could make her want to melt?
‘Stop that,’ she said indistinctly.
He splayed his hands around the span of her waist in a movement of unthinking possession. His head dipped forward so that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek. ‘You don’t mean that.’
‘I do.’
‘Then say it like you do.’
‘I don’t have to say anything.’
‘In that case I might be tempted to take your silence as compliance. Although on second thoughts, I might just admit to being tempted and leave it at that.’
She opened her eyes to see that he was lowering his head towards her and all she could read was the sexual hunger written on his face. There was all the time in the world to stop him but she didn’t. Of course she didn’t. Even when she said his name, it came out more like a plea than a protest. ‘Xenon...I... Oh.’
Their lips met in a kiss which was hard and hot and hungry. A kiss which shot right off the scale. She could hear the slam of her heart as he pulled her roughly against him. She could taste the warm mingling of their breaths and suddenly a sob was torn from her throat as she flung her arms around his neck and clung to him, railing against him even while he continued to kiss her.
Her words were muffled against his mouth. ‘You bastard. You complete and utter bastard.’
‘Call me all the names you like if it makes you feel better,’ he groaned. ‘But don’t deny you want me.’
‘No. I. Don’t.’
‘Yes. You. Do.’
His hand was cupping her breast and she was letting him do that, too. She could feel her nipple peaking against his palm and the rush of blood which engorged it so that it felt weighted and full. But this was wrong. She knew it was wrong.
‘Xenon.’ So why was his name coming out as a sultry moan as she curled her fingernails around his neck?
‘Don’t fight it, Lex. Just remind yourself how much you’ve missed this.’
‘But we’re getting a divorce.’
His answer was to pick her up and carry her over to one of the velvet sofas before lowering her down onto it. The soft pile contrasted with the hardness of the body which was pressing down on top of her and she was unable to hold back her excitement as he removed her glasses and put them carefully on the floor.
He turned back to give her his full attention, pushing her hair back from her face so that he could look at her properly, his blue eyes a blur as they burned into her. She felt exposed. Naked. A warm helplessness flooded through her as he bent his dark head to kiss her again but this time the kiss was charged with purpose.
She let her hands splay over the hard musculature of his back. She revelled in the weight of him; the scent and the taste of him. She felt the jut of his hipbones and the heavy weight of his erection as it pushed against her thighs.
It had been a long time since he had made love to her and, oh, she could tell. Her body felt as if it were on fire and her senses seemed to be sizzling into life in a way she’d forgotten could feel so good. She could feel his hand rucking up her dress and the coolness of the air as it hit her bare knees. An insistent heat began to coil through her as he parted her thighs and the pooling of heat at her feminine core was making her squirm. She wanted him to take off her panties. She wanted him deep inside her. Whispering her hands over his silk-covered torso, she heard him suck in a ragged breath. Dragging her nails over his diamond-hard nipples, she began to circle them over the straining material of his shirt and she could feel his helplessness, too.
‘Lex,’ he groaned.
She thrilled at the husky way he said her name. She lifted her hand up to his head, cradling it against her palm so that she could crush his lips even closer. She could feel the silent, slow entry of his tongue and now it was her turn to groan. She felt all her strength melting away as she reached up to grip his powerful shoulders, encountering the structured lines of his jacket as she did so. And suddenly her eyes fluttered open and she pictured what they must look like. She saw herself as if she’d just floated up to the ceiling and were looking down on the scene below. A man still in his work suit, grappling with his estranged wife on the sofa as if she were a cheap date. Starting to have sex with her right there and then, without any preamble or attempt at wooing.
And she was just lying back and letting him.
She pushed him away and this time he must have sensed that she was engaged in more than provocative play-fight, because he didn’t object. His breathing was laboured and his smoky eyes were narrowed as he stared at her.
‘What’s the matter?’
Lexi struggled to sit up, fury heating her blood as she grabbed her glasses and put them on. She wondered, if she hadn’t stopped him, whether he would have simply unzipped himself and impaled her right there on the sofa.
‘You really need to ask that?’ she breathed.
‘I’m not in the mood for riddles,’ he said, frustration making him snap the words out.
‘It’s not a riddle and you’re not stupid. Think about it, Xenon. You bring me into your house, knowing that this is an already complicated situation which might require a little consideration on your part. But consideration has never been part of your vocabulary, has it? Even after I expressly told you that this wasn’t going to be anything other than a masquerade marriage—you leap on me with all the finesse of a sixteen-year-old boy.’
He watched as she got up from
