Christmas Kisses: The Spanish Billionaire's Christmas Bride / Christmas Bride-To-Be / Christmas Wishes, Mistletoe Kisses. Alison Roberts

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СКАЧАТЬ by a group of photographs that hung on the wall. Her interest piqued, she found herself gravitating there to inspect them more closely. But before she could do so the library door opened behind her, and the man she seemed to spend an ever-increasing amount of time trying not to think about entered the room. He was dressed casually but smartly, in another elegant white shirt teamed with black trousers tailored to perfection, and his dark hair looked glossily damp in the light that shone from the hall behind him. Dominique realised he must have recently showered for dinner.

      Without saying anything, he shut the door behind him and slowly came into the room to join her. She sucked in a breath. When he was just inches away from her, he spoke. ‘My mother told me I would find you in here. I do not mean to intrude upon your privacy, but I thought you might like some help navigating what we have. Tell me what kind of books you like and I will point you in the right direction.’

      ‘Oh … I like all kinds of books. Biographies, novels, history … Do you have anything about the region where you live?’

      Dominique’s tongue briefly stole out to wet her suddenly dry lips. Cristiano was standing way too close … She could barely remember her own name, let alone expound on what kind of books she liked reading when he stood so near!

      ‘Sí.’ He shrugged those wide shoulders of his as though her answer amused him. ‘Of course. We have many books on that subject. We have a fascinating history, as I am sure you can tell just by glancing at the architecture around you. But you surprise me, Dominique. I would have thought you were more in the mood for a novel of some kind. A Christmas Carol, perhaps, bearing in mind the season we are in?’

      ‘Dickens is a wonderful writer, but honestly I don’t think I have the concentration for a novel right now. My mind is all over the place!’

      ‘Oh?’ His gaze was seemingly transfixed on her lips, and Dominique froze. ‘Why is that?’

      ‘Wh-why?’

      ‘I see that you are wearing the shawl I bought you,’ he commented.

      Disturbingly, he moved closer. So close that she could see every minute detail of his arrestingly attractive face in sharp focus—from the coal-black sweep of his long lashes to the darker shadow of beard grazing his hard, lean jaw, with that Cordova dimple in the chin that Matilde had so charmingly inherited. She was startlingly aware too of the exotic tang of his aftershave which, combined with the seductive male heat he emanated, was putting her senses under extreme intoxicating duress. Dominique had no will to tear her gaze away for even a second.

      ‘I was right. It perfectly matches the colour of your eyes.’

      ‘It does? Well, I—’

      She was stunned into silence when Cristiano placed his hands either side of her face, his hypnotic gaze holding hers with heart-pounding purpose, and Dominique knew what he intended long before the explosive touch of his lips on hers obliterated every coherent thought in her head.

      This time it was no exploratory kiss—executed, perhaps, with the aim of helping her forget her worries for a while and relax … No. This was the full-blown, hungry kiss of a man caught in the grip of inflamed desire, and Dominique had never in her life been the recipient of such raw, passionate need.

      His tongue thrust into her mouth with almost brutal command, and a heat started to burn inside her that made her shake and fear for her very sanity. Her hands reached out to steady herself against Cristiano, her fingers biting into the iron-hard flesh of his waist as her own escalating need suddenly outran any whispered caution in her head to stop this now and be sensible. It was simply heavenly to be wanted and desired this much, and Dominique started to kiss Cristiano back just as feverishly and wantonly as he was kissing her, her heart open wide and her senses more intensely alive than they’d ever been before.

      Ramón had kissed her with the clumsily selfish needs of an over-eager boy, but Cristiano was without doubt kissing her like a man. And when his hand cupped her breast and he moved his thumb devastatingly back and forth across the rigid velvet tip beneath her thin summer dress, Dominique’s hips felt as if they had melted right down to the bone. Her mouth slid away from his with a soft groan of pleasure as he ground his tight, lean hips against hers, the tender flesh of her cheekbone grazing against the harshness of his studded jaw. Impinging on her besieged senses was the shocking primal evidence of Cristiano’s need, and Dominique’s legs seemed to turn to liquid rubber that could not possibly sustain her upright position for long.

      ‘I will lock the door,’ Cristiano whispered against her ear, brushing his mouth briefly but devastatingly across her tender lobe.

      Before she could absorb the earth-shattering meaning of such a statement he left her to do just that. With the touch of a button he dimmed the lights too, and Dominique stared at him as he returned, wondering how a man as beautiful and perfect as he could possibly want an unconfident and ordinary girl like her, when he could probably have any stunning woman he wanted.

      ‘Everyone is busy and will not miss us for a while,’ he told her, and before she had an inkling of what he intended Cristiano slid his arm around her waist and lifted her bodily up into his arms.

      Her heart was racing so fast inside her chest that Dominique seriously feared for her ability to remain conscious. Finding herself gently lowered onto a sumptuous red velvet chaise-longue that was positioned by the unlit fireplace, she stared wide-eyed and nervous up into the riveting handsome face that gazed down at her.

      ‘I want to make love to you … I have been thinking about it all day,’ he told her. ‘In fact … the idea has been consuming me.’

      Dominique reacted purely on instinct. Reaching up, she urged his face down towards hers. The time between kisses had been far too long, in her opinion, and she was unashamedly hungry for the taste of his lips again. He had a taste like no other man she’d ever known, and it was both intoxicating and addictive.

      Her delightful blue shawl slid away from her shoulders, its delicate fringe brushing against the exposed flesh of her slender arms revealed by her dress. She heard the thud of Cristiano’s shoes as they hit the floor, and a little throb of shock pulsed through her. Just before he touched his achingly seductive mouth to hers Dominique sensed the pleasure she’d been longing for about to sweep her away—as easily as some flimsy raft on a compelling sea. ‘Please don’t regret this …’ she said softly. ‘That’s all I ask.’

      For a moment his avid glance stole her soul. ‘Nunca … Never!’

      His seductive reply was as fervent as Dominique had hoped it would be. Arms entwined around him, she felt Cristiano’s muscular weight press her down deep into the velvet fabric of the couch beneath her. The hard, masculine warmth of his body seemed to seep into her marrow, making everything inside her tense so hard with need that she felt she might snap in two.

      Shifting his position slightly, he started to touch her intimately with his hands and his mouth … exploring, kneading, tasting … and Dominique could not contain the uncontrollable tremors that were the result of his devastating sensual attention.

      ‘You are so soft … so incredibly beautiful,’ he whispered against her ear as his hands—which had been moving back and forth across her pelvis—finally moved lower, dragging up the hem of her dress and, with destroying purpose, cupping her through the flimsy cotton of her panties.

      Even as Dominique felt her breath catch, Cristiano inserted his finger into the heat and moisture that drenched her there. Pushing her dress up further, he let his hot mouth fall upon her aching breasts СКАЧАТЬ