Amazon Awakening. Caridad Pineiro

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СКАЧАТЬ one to rush, especially considering that her mother’s headlong dash into her father’s arms had caused her great heartache.

      Paola was determined not to repeat that bit of painful history, no matter how attracted she was to her grandmother’s emissary. She had to make a logical choice about what to do and not be ruled by reckless emotion or a needy heart. That had already brought her family too much pain.

      Whatever this legacy was, she’d have to find a way to deal with it and with her attraction to Rey.

      She tossed Rey’s card down on the coffee table and picked up her glass of wine. She took a sip and leaned back, letting her mind run through all the variables. Although the Friday deadline loomed large in her brain, she was certain of one thing.

      Rey can wait until I’m good and ready.

      It was a mistake to be here, he thought, as Paola’s assistant let him into Paola’s office and he closed the door behind him.

      She was in that big executive chair, a sheath of papers in her hand that she slowly laid down as she swiveled to face him.

      “It’s not Friday yet,” she said and took no other action to either welcome him or push him away.

      Rey had never been someone who easily gave up. Walking to her desk and then around the edge, he stood there, hands clenched to keep from touching her. “I’m not one to leave things to chance,” he said.

      “Neither am I,” she replied and did a slow turn to peer up at him, hands braced on the arms of the chair, long elegant legs crossed. Her position hiked up her skirt, allowing him a glimpse of something deliciously lacy just below the staid navy blue fabric.

      He itched to explore that bit of sexy lace.

      “We both know you’re more than just a buttoned-up suit,” he said and dared to graze his hand along the straight line of her shin to just below her knee.

      She trembled beneath that caress and uncrossed her legs, hiding that view of the lace, but providing yet another little turn-on.

      “I can smell it. Your arousal,” he said with a little growl from the animal spirit within him that was finding it hard to battle her enticement. It was almost unfair since she was still unaware of who she really was and the legacy that could bring so much pleasure, but also pain.

      Paola closed her legs tight as if by doing so she could shut away the desire he was creating with only his presence, but it was a losing battle. Her panties were drenched with her passion, and her nipples were so tight and sensitive even the fine fabric of her bra was inflaming her need.

      “You’re not what you seem, either,” she replied, the low little growl in his voice still vibrating within her.

      “Can you continue to ignore what you’re feeling now?” he said and held out his hand in both challenge and invitation.

      She glanced at his hand, so big and strong. A crisscross of fine lines along his knuckles hinted at some old wounds, confirming that he was a man of action and not a desk jockey. Following the line of his arm, she realized that not even his expensively tailored suit could hide the power beneath the fabric. He oozed strength, and her insides clenched at the thought of all that power directed toward her.

      Power too impossible to resist? she wondered, barely a second before slipping her hand into his and rising from her chair. She half expected him to crush her to him, but he didn’t, keeping her inches away while he brought his other hand to her waist.

      The weight of his palm on her felt right somehow. But then he trailed that hand lower until he reached the edge of her skirt. He slipped his fingers beneath the fabric and slowly, achingly, skimmed his rough palm along her leg until he encountered the lacy edge of the thigh-high stockings she wore.

      He traced that edge with his finger, skipping from lace to the soft skin of her thigh. Making her insides quiver as she imagined that hand moving ever upward, his work-hardened skin rasping along her smoothness.

      He finally leaned closer, his warm breath fanning across her temple before he dipped his head and whispered, “You are so much more than what you show the world.”

      Before she could deny his statement, he did what she had wanted and brought his hand between her legs, caressing her through the silky fabric of her damp panties. Unerringly finding her center and applying gentle pressure against that sensitive nub.

      Her knees weakened, and she grabbed hold of his shoulders for support. Shifting her hips forward, she accepted his wicked caress. He eased past the edge of her panties and slipped his hand inward. Dancing his fingers along her cleft, he teased her, stroking her wet, flushed lips and pressing his thumb against her clitoris, but avoiding what she wanted most.

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