The Millionaires' Cinderellas: Playing the Greek's Game / The Forbidden Innocent / Too Proud to be Bought. Sharon Kendrick

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      Her eyes fluttered to a helpless close as his hands splayed possessively over her bare back. It felt as if her body were melting and this wretched dress was burning her skin and she could barely wait for him to touch her properly. The sensation of it was so powerful that, for a moment, her knees buckled.

      Yet even as her body felt on fire with need a part of her found it hard to believe that this was really happening. Because she’d never had this feeling before. Not with Louis. Not with anyone. She’d thought it was her—that it was all down to her own inadequacy. Because that was the accusation which men hurled at women when they couldn’t … couldn’t … arouse them.

      The lift stopped and the doors slid open to reveal a couple in full evening dress who were blinking at them in surprise.

      ‘Good evening,’ said Zak pleasantly as he caught Emma’s hand and walked straight past them.

      But Emma heard the woman’s voice as it floated after them down the corridor.

      ‘Did you see what they were doing, Earl?’

      ‘I sure did,’ answered Earl, an unmistakable trace of envy in his voice.

      Emma’s cheeks were flushed and her heart was pounding by the time they reached Zak’s suite—but she was too nervous with excitement to give the vast penthouse more than a cursory look.

      ‘I’m not going to offer you a drink,’ he said. ‘Because we both know we’re not here for cocktails. There has been too much deception, Emma, and there’s not going to be any more. Not tonight. Do you understand?’

      She nodded. ‘Yes.’

      ‘Tonight we’re going to be very honest with each other. You’re going to tell me exactly what it is you want, and I’m going to give it to you.’

      His words both thrilled her and scared her because how was she supposed to know what she wanted? How on earth could she tell him that she didn’t know? Nerves momentarily threatened to overwhelm her, but then he had pulled her into his arms and was grazing his lips over hers and she began to shiver in helpless response.

      ‘Zak,’ she breathed as he flicked her lips open with the arrogant lick of his tongue and she could feel the warm mingling of their breath.

      ‘Tell me, what is it you want, Emma?’

      ‘I want …’ Her words trailed away. How could she articulate what had only ever been a fantasy?

      ‘This, perhaps?’ His hand cupped her breast, luxuriantly circling the rocky nipple so that she moaned.

      Against his shoulder, she squirmed with excitement, swallowing down the paper dryness in her throat. ‘Yes,’ she whispered.

      ‘I thought so. Now let’s try this …’ His hand skated over her belly, his fingers drifting over the delicate silk-satin of her white dress until, with blatant possession, they rested at her crotch. Briefly, his fingers whispered over her sensitive mound, and he ignored her little gasp of protest as he drifted them further down to splay over her thigh.

      ‘Zak,’ she murmured brokenly, her eyes tightly shut, scared she was going to crumple to the carpet and give away just how useless she was at all this.

      Assessingly, he ran his gaze over her as she clung to him, his heart beating with an excitement he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. She was certainly very turned on. Enough for him to just push her down onto the carpet and do it to her right there—and part of him was angry enough at her deceit to want to do just that. To take her in as swift and as perfunctory a way as possible and then to get rid of her as fast as he could.

      But even though it had been less than a month since he’d met her, he could never remember feeling quite like this before—as if he would die if he didn’t possess her. Was that the power of the forbidden? Because for so long he’d thought he couldn’t have her? What was it they said—that forbidden fruit was the sweetest? Yet through the dying waves of his anger he realised something else—something which was far more dangerous than acknowledging the allure of the forbidden. He didn’t want it fast and furious, with him just unzipping his fly and thrusting into her eager flesh. If it was only going to be once, then it was going to last all night. One unforgettable night.

      He picked her up with the minimum of effort, enjoying the way her eyes snapped open and registering her delighted gasp with a grim satisfaction. So she, who had expressed disbelief that women liked masterful men, was discovering that she’d been wrong all along, was she?

      He carried her into the bedroom, where he set her down on her high heels and sucked in a deep breath while she steadied herself, her hands holding on to his shoulders.

      ‘Take off your shoes,’ he said.

      He was so … so in control, she thought as, shakily, she bent down to slip each foot free. Without the added inches of the gold stilettos, she was suddenly much shorter, and once again a feeling of vulnerability swept over her—particularly when she heard his next comment.

      ‘Is this dress new?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘So you bought it especially for me,’ he mused, his lips hardening. ‘That’s interesting. Was it expensive?’

      She shrugged. Did she look foolish, buying a new dress for what was supposed to have been an innocent date all along? Did it seem as if she’d been expecting this to happen all along? ‘It was enough.’

      ‘Then bill me for another,’ he said savagely as he peeled it unceremoniously from her body and threw it to the floor, where it pooled in a silken white puddle. He shrugged off his dinner jacket, and it joined the dress on the floor, black against white—as stark as the contrast between his dark skin and her pale flesh. ‘Now unzip me,’ he commanded unsteadily.

      The dark eroticism in his voice filled Emma with an urgency she’d never felt before. And once again the dizzy realisation hit her that this was how it was supposed to feel. As if nothing else in the world mattered at that moment other than what was taking place between this man and this woman.

      Tremblingly, her fingers struggled with the zipper, which was straining against his hardness. She was terrified that she would ruin it. But he gave a groan of what sounded like satisfaction as his erection sprang free—though he clamped his fingers around hers when she attempted to stroke his steely length through the black silk of his boxer shorts.

      ‘Don’t,’ he warned. ‘Not this time. Just unbutton my shirt. Leave the rest to me.’

      This time? What was he talking about? But there wasn’t time to think—not to do anything—because now Zak was removing his shoes and socks and kicking off his trousers and she was busy sliding free the buttons of the fancy dress shirt.

      His hand skimmed its way down the side of her body as if he was learning her through touch alone and Emma was suddenly aware that they were both wearing nothing but their underwear. That she was standing in front of him in her bra and pants and that soon they would reach the part where it might go as hopelessly and as disastrously wrong as it had in the past. Would it? Would Zak Constantinides turn to her and snarl his frustration and his rage at her? Hotness flooded into her cheeks and he lifted her chin to meet the blaze of his eyes.

      ‘Blushing?’ СКАЧАТЬ