reach for her.
‘Why now?’ he asked.
‘I don’t want to make the same mistake.’ The mistake had been not saying yes to him.
‘Are you sure?’
‘You wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.’
‘I thought you didn’t do one-night stands?’
‘I can’t fight it any more.’ She lifted her shoulders. ‘It’s what I want.’ She wanted to be released from the passion that imprisoned her—that made her think of nothing and no one else.
He looked at her—his gaze lifting to her hair and then down her body. That old smile tugged one corner of his mouth.
‘What have you been doing?’ He lifted a finger and pressed it against her forehead and then pulled it away and held it in front of her eyes. A sparkle of gold glinted on his finger.
She wiped her forehead herself and looked at her fingers, grimacing wryly when she saw more of the sparkles on her hand. ‘I’ve been working on a poem for an anniversary. Using gold leaf.’
‘What anniversary?’
‘Fiftieth—the golden.’
‘Wow.’ He nodded.
‘Yeah.’ She smiled. ‘It’s a lovely poem too.’
‘You’re not tired from Aurelie’s work?’
Of course she was.
His smile quirked. ‘You’re a gold-flecked angel.’
‘I’m not that much of an angel.’
He traced the spots of gold on her face with his finger and then leant forward, pressing his lips to each marking. ‘You’re gilded.’
Victoria shivered and took a step back. She hadn’t expected such tenderness and didn’t know if she could handle it. She wanted fast, furious passion—carefree, right? ‘You’re just feeling soppy because you’ve been to a wedding.’ She reached for his belt buckle, her intention clear. ‘Enough talking.’
‘No.’ He grabbed her wrists and pulled them away, locking them behind her back. It forced her chest right into his so she wasn’t exactly disappointed. But why was he saying no?
His gold-flecked brown eyes drilled into hers. ‘I’ve wanted this for a long time and even though we have only one night, I’m not going to have it over in five seconds. I’m not going to just strip you and screw you and walk out the door two minutes later.’
She swallowed, sure he could feel her heart pounding against him.
‘I’m going to take my time and I’m going to savour every second I have. Don’t plan on sleeping any tonight.’
Oh.
He didn’t take his eyes off her and she couldn’t drag hers away, not when his eyes were deepening so quickly— and inviting. ‘Is that a problem?’
She shook her head, unable to make a sound.
He released her wrists, lifting his hand to cup her jaw. ‘Why have you changed your mind?’
‘I think I was wrong and you were right,’ she whispered. ‘This is…passion.’ She chose her word carefully. ‘And I think it needs to be dealt with.’
‘You think you can deal with me?’
That old arrogance brought back her smile. ‘I think for one night. Yes. I can deal with you.’ She had to.
His eyes flicked to her hair. The way he looked at her made her so hot. She wasn’t sure she was going to be able to go slow and savour; she thought she might incinerate first. She needed to cool off. And suddenly she was conscious of the ratty shorts and tee she had on—and the even rattier cotton robe she’d shrugged on as the evening cooled. ‘I was going to shower.’
‘Later,’ he said, his voice husky.
His fingers traced over her skin—her jaw, down her neck—causing her to shiver even though she was hotter than she’d been in her life. She drew in a deep breath and shifted her feet—so restless.
‘Slow,’ he reminded her with a smile.
‘I don’t want slow.’
He kissed her neck, his teeth giving her a scrape before his tongue and lips soothed the sensitive spot. ‘Yes, you do.’
Frankly she wasn’t going to be able to do slow if he kept touching her like this. She was embarrassingly turned on already, suddenly desperate for him to be inside her. She wanted that intimacy—and that orgasm—right this second. She inhaled deeply and stepped back. ‘Let me undress you.’
His eyes widened. ‘I want to. I have to. Otherwise…’ She trailed off. ‘Okay,’ he answered. ‘If that’s what you want.’
She wanted so many things, but doing this first might help her settle into it.
She started with his jacket, working one sleeve and then the other. He bent his head as she passed in front of him, briefly brushing a kiss on her jaw. She glanced up at him and smiled but said nothing. Slowly she undid the buttons on his shirt and opened it to reveal his chest. Sleek, hewn muscles, smooth strength. The kind of definition that was only built from daily training. And sweat.
Yeah, the guy was fit. So fine.
She hadn’t realised she was holding her breath and she released it now in a harsh sigh. He was silent now too but his chest rose and fell a little faster than it had before. His belt was leather and soft and her fingers struggled to work the fastenings. But he didn’t offer to help and she was glad. She wanted to do it all, discover it all.
She dropped to her haunches as she pulled his trousers down. He wore clinging black boxers beneath, fortunately made from that stretchy stuff as they were straining now. She slid her hands into the waistband. She pulled out the elastic, sweeping the boxers wide past his erection and down his muscled thighs. He stepped out of them. On her knees she glanced back up at him—practically agog at the magnificence of him.
‘Now you’re the one overdressed,’ he said roughly. She didn’t care. She just wanted to put her mouth on him.
But he drew in a hissing breath and stepped forward, bending to haul her to her feet.
‘My turn.’ He didn’t smile. He looked tense.
He pulled the belt of her robe right through until he’d tugged it completely free. She glanced at the length hanging in his hand. ‘What do you plan to do with that?’
‘I know how to tie knots.’
‘Yeah.’ She knew that; he’d had her in knots for a long time now.
But he tossed the belt to the side. ‘This time, I want to feel your hands on me.’
But another time he
