then, did the idea of intimacy with him appeal so much? Why this excitement at the notion of exploring those sensations and cravings she’d so long repressed?
Her mother had hinted it was unhealthy for her to avoid personal contact with men as much as she had. What would her mum say about the unrelenting forces building within her right now? The temptation to say yes?
‘I’m not afraid,’ she lied.
‘Good.’ He leaned towards her till her whole world was encompassed by the brilliance of his dark eyes, the strength of his powerful shoulders blotting out the view and the warmth of his body reaching out to her.
‘It’s not fear I want from you, Rosalie.’ His words were warm against her cheek. But he came no closer. An invisible barrier remained between them. The protection of his promise. Power rested solely in her hands.
Black, burning eyes met hers. The flare of his nostrils told her he registered it too—the faint musky aroma. The scent of arousal. From her skin? From his?
And yet he didn’t move.
‘Ahmed will bring the four-wheel drive soon,’ he said.
Rosalie swallowed and swiped the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip. His gaze flickered and held.
‘Is there anything you want before he arrives?’ His words were barely audible over the thunder of her pulse.
‘No. Nothing.’ Yet her voice sounded like a sigh of wind, an echo of the soft waves on the beach.
‘Are you sure?’ he whispered.
She bit her lip to prevent herself from saying anything stupid. Arik was seduction on two legs and she had precious few defences against him. ‘No,’ she muttered again.
‘No, you don’t want anything? Or no, you’re not sure?’
He was close enough for her to feel encompassed by the sheer strength of the man. His hands were planted on either side of her hips, his fingers splayed across the rich fabric of the carpet. His chest was like a wall, pressing her back, despite the fact that he didn’t touch her. His gaze held hers, like a bird enmeshed in a net.
‘I…’ The words died in her throat as she realised what she wanted. What she craved from him.
‘A kiss, perhaps? Just one to satisfy your curiosity?’ His mouth curled up in a smile that stopped her pulse for a beat. ‘Surely you’ve wondered what it would be like, just a simple kiss between us?’
If only he’d looked smug she’d have been able to summon the will-power to push him away. But there was only the glow of invitation in his eyes. The temptation to pleasure in his curving lips.
‘Yes,’ she heard herself whisper on a sigh of surrender. ‘I’ve wondered.’
‘Good,’ he murmured. ‘In that we are equals.’ His smile faded. ‘Relax, Rosalie. You are safe with me.’
He leaned even closer, paused with his mouth an infinitesimal fraction away. He waited long enough for her to absorb the scent of his skin, adjust to the power and heat of his body almost touching hers, for her to taste his breath on her lips and to want more.
Then he slanted his mouth over hers and the world disappeared into a whirling blur as he took her mouth with his.
Chapter Five
SHE kissed like a virgin.
Her lips were soft, pliant, clinging as he brushed his mouth against hers. Yet when he opened his mouth to slide his tongue along her lips she shivered, retreating a little.
So sweet. So enticing. He leaned closer, careful to keep his hands firmly on the floor. This time when he invited her to open for him, her lips moved against his, mimicking the gentle persuasion of his caress.
Instantly a surge of blood shot simultaneously to his head and his groin. A jolt of fire ignited in his belly, blasting his careful restraint to smithereens.
But somehow he managed to contain the compulsion to ravish her mouth, to pull her close to his needy body and plunder her depths.
He coaxed her mouth open, increasing the pressure slowly. Her breath was fresh and warm, her lips like satin, the scent of her skin heady and arousing. There was no artifice about her, not even so much as a manufactured scent. Yet her delicate kisses, her seemingly untutored response, had him clenching his fists against the impulse to throw caution and restraint to the winds and simply take what he wanted.
He’d never known such fierce need. He had to have her. Every atom of his being screamed for her. She was a temptress such as he’d never known before. A houri who seduced not with practised arts but with a tentative, natural eroticism that was unsurpassed in his experience.
What had he got himself into?
He pressed closer, his kiss more demanding. She melted against him, her sigh a muffled surrender in his mouth and instantly his blood thrummed an imperative to conquer. To take.
Yet he mustn’t touch. Not this time. This time he had to go slowly, not scare her into headlong retreat. She was skittish enough as it was. If he touched her the way he wanted to, palmed her breasts, learnt the firm curves of her body, discovered her secret femininity and tasted her flesh with his tongue, he wouldn’t be able to call a halt.
Instinctively he knew she needed time.
He wondered how long he could hold out before the visceral need that gnawed at his vitals overcame the last of his scruples.
He pressed closer still, the peaks of her breasts grazing his chest for an instant, sending a judder of erotic sensation straight to his groin. His erection was a heavy fretful ache that surged into full-blooded readiness. A groan of pain, of thwarted need, rose from his chest but he ignored it, fisting his hands tighter till the circulation ebbed and his fingers ached.
He’d started this and he owed it to Rosalie, as a man of honour, not to finish it here and now with a quick frantic coupling, no matter the cost to his fast-shredding self-control.
Arik was all she’d dreamed he’d be. And more. The dance of his tongue against hers, languorous and innately seductive, the taste of him on her lips, the scent of his warm skin so close—it was a heady combination that blasted any logic right out of her brain. The sheer bombardment of physical pleasure assailing her senses made her dizzy.
She wondered how it would feel if he wrapped his arms around her and drew her close to the aggressive heat of his body. She longed to know. Could almost imagine the heavy weight of his strong torso against hers.
Rosalie shifted, edgy with an aching, empty sensation that would only be satisfied with more. More of Arik. More of the magic he created just with his lips and tongue against hers.
He pushed closer, still not close enough, and she almost sighed with relief as she felt the soft luxury of piled cushions behind her. He adjusted the angle of his mouth slightly, giving even better access to hers, and she knew with a faint last coherent thought that surrender wasn’t so bad after all.
If only he’d touch her, lift his palm to her face and stroke her there, as she longed to be touched.
But,
