Untamed Billionaires: Marriage: For Business or Pleasure? / Getting Red-Hot with the Rogue / One Night with the Rebel Billionaire. Элли Блейк

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СКАЧАТЬ French suite I had visions of a maid’s outfit hanging in the wardrobes rather than fluffy robes and baskets of…’

      She trailed off, bit her tongue and he raised an eyebrow.

      ‘Of?’

      With crimson cheeks, she said, ‘French letters.’

      He chuckled, urged her into the room with a gentle push in the small of her back.

      ‘I haven’t heard condoms called those in years.’

      She waved her hand at him. ‘Forget I said anything. Speaking before I think.’

      She looked adorable with her flaming cheeks and wobbly smile, in stark contrast to her wedding gown and upswept hair.

      He shouldn’t tease her, he really shouldn’t, but he didn’t have her on the back foot very often and he couldn’t resist.

      ‘If this suite is too boring, we could always change to another. The Roman room, complete with marble columns around a central spa bath right in the bedroom, is pretty nifty. Or there’s the Scottish room with its lavish faux fireplace and fur rug in front of it, or if you’re feeling really adventurous there’s always the Tack room, complete with whips, for those who need a little added excitement in their lives.’

      ‘Whips?’

      Her voice came out a squeak and he laughed.

      ‘Okay, so I’ve just invented the Tack room, but hey, what the hell, it might draw a few customers.’

      ‘What sort of hotel are you running here?’

      ‘I resent what you’re implying, lady.’

      To his surprise, the mischief had returned to her eyes as she quirked an eyebrow. ‘It’s wifey to you now.’

      Just like that, it hit him all over again.

      They were married.

      It was their wedding night.

      And no amount of kidding around or playing the fool would douse his driving need to consummate this marriage.

      Business might be the motivator behind their nuptials but his unquenchable need to have Britt in his arms again was a definite bonus.

      Taking a step closer, he ran a fingertip down her arm, delighting in the slight tremor, proving she wasn’t as immune to him as she’d like him to believe.

      ‘Wife…I like the sound of that.’

      ‘In name only, of course.’

      Her biting response might have been edgy, but she didn’t move when his finger continued its leisurely exploration, reaching her shoulder, skimming along her collarbone, resting in the hollow just above where her pulse beat frantically.

      ‘Of course,’ he said, ducking his head to replace his finger with his lips, turned on by her low moan and the way her head fell back to give him better access.

      Her skin tasted better than he remembered, deliciously soft with a hint of vanilla, and it took every inch of his rapidly dwindling will power not to devour her on the spot.

      ‘This isn’t supposed to happen,’ she murmured as his lips trailed slowly upwards, nuzzling behind her ear, nipping the lobe before swooping on her mouth in a fiery kiss that branded her his.

      Raging need exploded in him as her tongue touched his, the same overpowering, overwhelming need that had driven him to possess her years earlier.

      Nothing had changed, absolutely nothing. He was still the same star-struck guy helplessly under her spell.

      The realisation should’ve angered him, for he was nothing like the blue-collar farm boy he’d once been. But he didn’t give a damn, didn’t care two hoots she now had him as ready and raring for her as he’d been as a horny eighteen-year-old.

      Wrenching his mouth from hers and dragging in a breath, he captured her face in his hands, noting the swollen lips, the rosy cheeks, the eyes midnight-blue with passion, his libido roaring in response.

      ‘You know something? This was meant to happen from the first moment you came back.’

      To her credit, she didn’t look away, didn’t take a step back.

      ‘You’re wrong. Nothing has gone to plan since I returned.’

      The flicker of pain in her eyes hit him hard and he dropped his hands, gave her space and she took it, putting enough distance between them for him to feel the loss.

      ‘Tell me you don’t want to consummate this marriage as much as I do.’

      There, he threw it out, knowing the firebrand she used to be would never back down from a challenge.

      However, the forlorn bride in a fancy dress staring wistfully out of the window was a far cry from the feisty girl he’d known, and the thought he’d made her this unhappy was a kick in the guts. And the wake-up call he needed.

      ‘Forget it. I’m going out for a while. I’ll be back later.’

      Failure didn’t sit well with him, never had, and, hating how he’d botched this, he wrenched open the door.

      ‘Nick, wait!’

      But he didn’t.

      He walked out on his bride and slammed the door shut on his dreams of a memorable wedding night.

      Brittany kicked off her sandals, ripped off the wedding dress and tore the frangipani from her hair, crushing it in her palm in the process.

      She stared at the furrowed flower, limp, lifeless, and sank onto the bed, letting the petals drift from her finger-tips to the floor.

      She was like that flower: all pristine and showy on the outside, a crumpled mess on the inside.

      As if getting through the ceremony hadn’t been hard enough, pretending she didn’t want a real wedding night had almost driven her insane.

      Nick wanted her.

      She wanted Nick.

      Where was the problem?

      A sharp pain shot through her chest as a timely reminder of exactly what the problem was: her heart. Her stupid, impressionable, just-break-me-now heart that jumped up and said ‘pick me, pick me’ every time Nick Mancini looked her way.

      It’d been the same ten years ago and nothing had changed. She’d been home just over a week, long enough to realise singing the ‘I’m only doing this for business’ tune wouldn’t cut it with Nick.

      Not this time.

      He’d let her walk away back then, he’d let her do it now, so why was she falling for him regardless?

      With a frustrated groan, she headed for the bathroom. A good, long soak might ease her tension.

      Yeah, СКАЧАТЬ