The Secret Valtinos Baby. Lynne Graham

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      ‘What on earth—?’ she began, disconcerted by his sudden appearance in a place where she had never imagined seeing him.

      Angel settled volatile dark golden eyes on her angrily. ‘I can’t stay away,’ he grated rawly, his beautiful mouth compressing.

      ‘B-but...we agreed,’ she stammered.

      ‘Massive fail,’ Angel framed darkly. ‘Biggest bloody mistake of my life!’

      Merry almost laughed and fortunately killed the urge. It was simply that Angel’s innate love of drama not only amused her, but somehow touched her somewhere down deep inside, somewhere where she was soft and emotional and vulnerable even though she didn’t want to be. He had come to her even though he didn’t want to. He resented his desire for her, had tried to stamp it out and failed. She grasped immediately that that weakness for her infuriated him.

      ‘I want to be with you tonight.’

      ‘Angel—’

      He came down on the bed beside her and framed her face with long, cool brown fingers. ‘Say my name again,’ he demanded.

      ‘No,’ she said stubbornly. ‘I don’t do what you tell me to do outside working hours.’

      ‘Thee mou...stop challenging me,’ he groaned, tilting her head back to follow the long, elegant column of her throat down to the slope of her shoulder, nipping and kissing a tantalising path across her sensitised skin while she quivered. ‘This isn’t me. This isn’t what I’m about.’

      ‘Then why are you here?’ she whispered weakly.

      ‘Can’t stay away.’ He carried her hand down to where he was hot and hard and wanting and groaned without inhibition as she stroked him through the fine, crisp fabric of his well-cut trousers.

      Heat coursed through her in molten waves, the hunger unleashed afresh. Simply touching him inflamed her. She tried to fight it, she tried to fasten it down and ground herself, but Angel smashed any hope of control by welding dark golden eyes to hers and kissing her with barely contained ferocity. Not a single thought passed her mind beyond the thrillingly obvious reality that he needed her and couldn’t stay away. That knowledge vanquished every other consideration. She kissed him back with the same uncontrollable, desperate passion.

      ‘I intended to take you out to dinner,’ Angel admitted breathlessly as he fought with her pyjamas, his sleek, deft skills with feminine clothing deserting him.

      ‘You hungry?’ she gasped, almost strangling him with his own tie in her struggle to loosen it.

      ‘Only for you,’ he growled fiercely against her swollen mouth. ‘Watching you round the office all day, being unable to touch, even to look.’

      And then they were naked in her bed, naked and frantic and so tormentingly hungry for each other that she writhed and squirmed and he fought to hold her still. He produced a condom, tore it from the wrapper with his teeth. ‘We don’t want an accident,’ he said unevenly.

      ‘No, no accidents,’ she agreed helplessly, lying there, shocked by what she was doing but participating all the same, quite unable to deny him. Their clothes lay festooned all around them and she didn’t care. Angel had come to her and she was happy about that, there in her pin-neat room made messy by his presence.

      He drove into her yielding flesh with a heartfelt sound of satisfaction and she wrapped her legs round him, arching up and gasping at every fluid stroke. The excitement heightened exponentially, the pulsing pound of intolerable desire driving them off the edge fast into a hot, sweaty tangle of limbs and shuddering fulfilment.

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