Bedroom Seductions. Nicola Marsh

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      An image of her in that wet, clinging, black one-piece sprang to mind again, instantly obliterating his good intentions to keep his distance. The bathing suit hadn’t been remotely sexy, but the woman in it—now, that was another story.

      All afternoon he’d mentally rehearsed the reasons he shouldn’t push this: the ‘employees don’t fraternise with passengers’ policy he’d devised himself; the importance of focussing on the quest to catch their saboteur; the debt he owed Uncle Jimmy. All perfectly legitimate reasons to keep his distance and stop toying with her—not to mention the fact she hadn’t returned his interest in the slightest.

      But he couldn’t get her out of his head. He’d never met anyone like her: fragile, shy, clumsy and yet infinitely endearing. Quite simply, she captivated him.

      It couldn’t be purely physical, not with the dreadful clothes she wore—old-fashioned clothes that hid her body rather than enhancing it. And she rarely wore make-up, she tied her hair in a ponytail most of the time, and she wore no jewellery.

      But that was what intrigued him the most: her apparent lack of artifice, which allowed the natural intelligent sparkle of her expressive eyes to shine through, and her genuine smile on the rare occasion one of his funny barbs hit its mark with her.

      Her acerbic wit attracted him—the guarantee she wouldn’t put up with any of his crap. He liked that enough to know more, a lot more, and now, with curiosity egging him on, he bade goodbye to the couple and followed her.

      The soft sand silenced his footsteps, and he pulled up as she stopped at the ocean’s edge, rubbing her arms before wrapping them around her middle. It was a vulnerable gesture that had him wondering who or what had put the wary expression in her eyes that he’d glimpsed on more than one occasion.

      For someone her age—he’d pegged her as mid to late twenties—she was too serious, too withdrawn, and each time he’d seen caution creep into her striking hazel eyes he’d wanted to slay whatever demon had put it there.

      Crazy, considering his demon-slaying days for any woman were long gone. Magda had seen to that.

      Her posture screamed hands-off so what was he doing here, disturbing her solitude? Up for another bout of flirting? Another bout of teasing her when he knew it couldn’t lead anywhere? She’d made that pretty clear.

      He needed to leave her the hell alone. But before he could take a step the breeze picked up, and a waft of fragrance assailed his nostrils. He inhaled, savouring the tantalising scent of frangipani with a hint of vanilla. Pure ambrosia, piquant and addictive. He shook his head to clear it.

      He must have made a noise, for she turned, pale moon-light casting alluring shadows over a face otherwise bathed in luminosity, her eyes wide and incandescent.

      He’d never seen anything so stunning. The impact of her simple beauty hit him like a blow to the solar plexus, and for an oxygen-starved moment all he could do was stare.

      ‘Sneaking up on me again?’

      The slight curve of her lips belied the hint of annoyance in her voice.

      ‘You look like you could do with some company.’

      ‘Maybe.’

      ‘Really?’

      ‘Don’t sound so surprised. You’re not too bad for a persistent pain in the butt.’

      He laughed, surprised she’d instigated a bit of lighthearted wordplay for the first time.

      ‘Be careful. That almost sounded like a compliment, and it might go straight to my head.’

      ‘Which part? The persistent pain part or the part where I actually admitted you’re not too bad?’

      ‘Take a guess.’

      She smiled, and the effect was breathtaking. ‘I’m sure you’re well aware of your attributes, so anything I say isn’t going to surprise you too much.’

      ‘My attributes, huh?’ He flexed his biceps, straightened his shoulders. ‘Nice to know you noticed.’

      She rolled her eyes. ‘See? I knew it’d go to your head.’

      He chuckled and closed the short distance between them, ducking his head towards her neck. ‘What’s that perfume, by the way? It’s entrapment for any male who gets within five feet of you. Look at me; I’m putty in your hands at the moment.’

      ‘It’s called Seduction. Stupid name, but it smells okay. I bought it today in a fit of madness.’

      She’d stiffened imperceptibly at his nearness, meaning he should probably leave her alone.

      But he couldn’t.

      Not when the word Seduction tripped from her lips like a saucy invitation. Not when the word conjured up all sorts of wicked images in his over-heated imagination. Not when she smelt and looked divine under a star-studded sky just made for romance and frivolity and getting swept away in the moment.

      ‘Seduction, huh?’

      Her small nod brought her ear within nibbling range, and he gritted his teeth, straightening, removing delectable necks and ears out of temptation’s way—only to catch the flicker of awareness warring with indecision in her unwavering stare.

      ‘I couldn’t resist it.’

      ‘Like I can’t resist this.’

      He lowered his lips towards her as her eyelids fluttered shut, the faint pink staining her cheeks adding a natural glow.

      He half expected her to push him away, and her tentative acceptance of his kiss surprised him, pleased him, considering her usual reticence for anything beyond the mildest flirtation.

      He’d wanted to do this for days, yet the anticipation of her lips touching his didn’t compare to the reality.

      As he rested his hands on her waist, spanning it, she combusted.

      There was no other description for her reaction as she wrapped her arms around him, tugging him closer, her hands frantic as they bunched his shirt, stroked his back, raking it while pushing against him, eager and spontaneous and incredibly responsive.

      He deepened the kiss, demanding a compliance she was more than willing to give, and her total abandonment fired his libido better than any aphrodisiac as she parted her lips, allowing his tongue to slide into her mouth, where it wound around hers in an erotic, sensual dance he didn’t want to end.

      Blistering heat scorched straight to his groin and he groaned, threading his hands through her silky soft hair, loose and cascading over her shoulders for once, angling her head for better access to the warm delights of her mouth, wanting more, wanting it all.

      He knew he shouldn’t be doing this. It defied logic, defied all reason. But her tongue touching his blasted every last shred of common sense out of his mind.

      As her breasts pressed against his chest and her hands skimmed the waistband of his trousers sanity fled, and he tore his mouth away, blazing a trail of hot, moist kisses down her throat.

      Her

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