guests. Natalia spotted the unobtrusive dark sedan driven by her bodyguard in the line-up. The other bodyguard wouldn’t be far away. Their orders were to be close by always.
She could not fault her parents for taking such good care of her, even if it did seem irksome at times. The terrible loss of her brother and his family—not just Carl, but precious two-year-old Rudolph, whom they’d all adored, and his mother Sylvie—had thrown them into despair.
Tristan had been forced to step up into a role he’d felt ill-prepared for. Natalia had been thrust into being second in line to the throne and her freedom had been severely curtailed.
Becoming second in line to a throne after a sudden death was a different matter altogether from being fourth in line behind three male heirs. She’d gone from being relatively independent to being cosseted. And the campaign to get her married to someone suitable and bearing further heirs had been stepped up. She’d begun to feel trapped—albeit in a golden cage—stifled, and more than a touch rebellious. She’d been determined to get permission to leave Montovia and attend this wedding.
Much as she railed against the stepped-up security, she could see the reasons why. But nothing was going to stop her enjoying every minute available to her with Finn.
She followed him to take their places near the cluster of guests waiting for their cars. Thankfully, Tristan and Gemma were not among them to see her looking so cosy with Finn. Her brother and his wife had left early because Gemma hadn’t been feeling well. On the dance floor, Natalia had done nothing to earn her brother’s disapproval. That might not be the case by the time the evening was through.
It soon became obvious that they were going to have to wait a few minutes for her car. She didn’t want to wait a second longer to be alone with Finn.
He seemed to feel the same. ‘We don’t have to get caught up in banal conversation about why the traffic is backed up,’ he said. ‘C’mon.’
Just a few steps took them away from the other guests until they stood shoulder to shoulder by the side of the portico, away from the lamps that lit the entrance, private in the shadow of a large camellia tree studded with luminous white blooms. Huge tubs of exotic flowering orchids hid them from general view—plants she would only see in a greenhouse back home. The air was rich with the scent of jasmine, romantic and intoxicating.
Everything about Australia was so different from her homeland of snow-capped mountains, vast lakes and the sharp scent of pine needles. And Finn was so different from any man she had ever met. Different in such an exciting way.
So far away from home she wasn’t bound by the rules.
She shivered—not just because of a gust of cool, early spring air but because she felt a sudden nervousness about finally being alone with him and what she hoped that might lead to.
He turned to face her. ‘Are you cold?’
‘Just the breeze,’ she said, wrapping her arms around herself, not wanting to betray how she was feeling about him.
Finn stepped closer, his gaze intent on her face. In the poorly lit gloom his eyes gleamed green. She forgot to shiver, almost forgot to breathe, seeing the expression in his eyes, the sensual set of his mouth. Her heart started thudding so erratically that surely he could hear it.
He gently disengaged her arms and held her hands by her side, his hands warm on her bare skin. For a long moment he looked into her eyes, and questions and answers were silently exchanged. Her lips parted in anticipation as he lowered his mouth to hers and she sighed with pleasure as he kissed her.
At last.
His mouth was warm and firm on hers in a kiss that was sure and demanding while gentle at the same time. Her eyes closed as she savoured the closeness of him and she kissed him back.
She was just getting into the rhythm of kisses given and returned when he broke the contact. She swallowed a whimper of dismay at the loss—she didn’t want to sound needy.
‘I’ve wanted to kiss you for hours,’ he said, in that so-sexy deep voice.
‘Me too,’ she said. ‘Kiss you, I mean. Please...please don’t stop.’
He laughed, low and triumphant, and then kissed her again. His touch ignited the hunger for him that had been brewing since the moment she’d seen him. She’d been without a man in her life for a long time, but this wasn’t just hunger for a man’s touch—it was hunger for him, this man, Finn.
His tongue slid between her lips to meet hers. He let go of her hands to put his arms around her and draw her closer. She wound her arms around his neck and returned his kiss, loving the feel of his tongue, his lips, the taste of him. Starbursts of sensation seemed to ignite along every pleasure pathway.
He certainly knew how to kiss. And the fact that he was experienced was a point in his favour. She wanted a man who knew what he was doing.
Yes. Finn was the one. There was no doubt in her mind.
Tonight, she wanted to lose her virginity to Finn.
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