The Tycoon's Secret Affair / Defiant Mistress, Ruthless Millionaire. Yvonne Lindsay
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Something predatory sparked in his eyes. A glow that was gone almost as soon as it burst to life. His hand came up and cupped her elbow, his fingers splaying possessively over her skin.
She closed her eyes for a brief moment, enjoying the electric sensation that sizzled through her body the moment he touched her.
He led her from the protective awning of the hotel into the night air. Around them the warm glow of torches danced in time with the sweet sounds of jazz. The breeze coming off the water blew through her hair, and she inhaled deeply, enjoying the salt tang.
“Dance with me before we have that drink,” he murmured close to her ear.
Without waiting for her consent, he pulled her into his arms, his hips meeting hers as he cupped her body close.
They fit seamlessly, her flush against him, melting and flowing until she wasn’t sure where she ended and he began.
His cheek rested against the side of her head as his arms encircled her. Protective. Strong. She reached up, sliding her arms over his shoulders until they wrapped around his neck.
“You’re beautiful.”
His words flowed like warm honey over jaded ears. It wasn’t the most original line, but that was just it. Coming from him, it didn’t sound like a line, but rather an honest assessment, a sincere compliment, one that maybe he’d ordinarily be unwilling to give.
“So are you,” she whispered.
He chuckled, and his laughter vibrated over her sensitive skin. “Me beautiful? I’m unsure of whether to be flattered or offended.”
She snorted. “I know for a fact I’m not the only woman to have ever called you beautiful.”
“Do you now?”
His hands skimmed over her back, finding the flesh bared by the backless scoop of her dress. She sucked in her breath as his fingers burned her flesh.
“You feel it too,” he murmured.
She didn’t pretend not to know what he meant. The chemistry between them was combustible. Never before had she experienced anything like this, not that she’d tell him that.
Instead she nodded her agreement.
“Are we going to do anything about it?”
She leaned back and tilted her head to meet his eyes. “I’d like to think we are.”
“Direct. I like that in a woman.”
“I like that in a man.”
Amusement softened the intensity of his gaze, but she saw something else in his expression. Desire. He wanted her as badly as she wanted him.
“We could have that drink in my room.”
She sucked in her breath. Even though she knew what he wanted, the invitation still hit her squarely in the stomach. Her breasts tightened against his chest, and arousal bloomed deep.
“I’m not…” For the first time, she sounded unsure, hesitant. Not at all the decisive woman she knew herself to be.
“You’re not what?” he prompted.
“Protected,” she said, her voice nearly drowning in the sounds around them.
He tucked a finger underneath her chin and forced her to once again meet his seeking gaze. “I’ll take care of you.”
The firm promise wrapped around her more securely than his arms. For a moment she indulged in the fantasy of what it would be like to have a man such as this take care of her for the rest of her life. Then she shook her head. Such foolish notions shouldn’t disrupt the fantasy of this one night.
She rose up on tiptoe, her lips a breath away from his. “What’s your room number?”
“I’ll take you up myself.”
She shook her head, and he frowned.
“I’ll meet you there.”
His eyes narrowed for a moment as if he wasn’t sure whether to believe her or not. Then without warning, he slid a hand around her neck and curled his fingers around her nape. He pulled her to him, pressing his lips to hers.
She went liquid against him, her body sliding bonelessly downward. He hauled her against him with his free arm, anchoring her tight to prevent her fall.
He licked over her lips, pressing, demanding her to open. With a breathless gasp, she surrendered, parting her mouth so his tongue could slide inward.
Hot, moist open-mouthed kisses. He stole her breath and returned it. His teeth scraped at her lip then captured it and tugged relentlessly. Unwilling to remain a passive participant, she fired back, sucking at his tongue.
His groan echoed over her ears. Her sigh spilled into his mouth.
He finally pulled away, his breaths coming in ragged heaves. His eyes flashed dangerously, sending a shiver over her flesh.
Then he shoved a keycard into her hand. “Top floor. Suite eleven. Hurry.”
With that he turned and stalked back into the hotel, his stride eating up the floor.
She stared after him, her body humming and her mind in a million different pieces. She was completely shattered by what she’d just experienced.
“I must be insane. He’ll eat me alive.”
A low hum of heady desire buzzed through her veins. She could only hope she was right.
She turned on shaking legs and walked slowly into the hotel. It wasn’t that she was being deliberately coy by putting her mystery man off. Mystery man…She didn’t even know his name, but she’d agreed to have sex with him.
Then again, it had a certain appeal, this air of mystery. A night of fantasy. No names. No expectations. No entanglements or emotional involvement. No one would get hurt. It was, in fact, perfect.
No, she wasn’t being cute. But if she was going to go through with this, it would be on her own terms. Her dark-eyed lover wouldn’t have complete control of the situation.
With more calm than she felt, she went up to her room. Once there, she surveyed her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her hair was slightly mussed and her lips swollen. Passion. She looked as if she’d had an encounter with the very essence of passion.
The sultry temptress staring back at her wasn’t a woman she recognized, but she decided she liked this new person. She looked beautiful and confident, and excitement sparked her eyes at the thought of what waited for her in suite eleven.
After a lifetime of loneliness, of being alone, the idea of spending the night in a lover’s arms was so appealing that it was all she could do not to hurry out to the elevator.
Instead she forced herself