The Price Of His Redemption. Carol Marinelli

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      ‘Just coffee.’

      It was eight twenty-seven when her dessert was served and it was already over.

      ‘Nice?’ Daniil asked.

      ‘Very.’ Libby nodded, yet she could more than sense his distraction. He glanced out to the street and once more she saw him check the time.

      Thank him for dinner and go home, Libby told herself, but instead she dragged things out a tiny bit by going to the loo. Then she had a coffee and little chocolate mints but all too soon their drinks were done and all that was left for Libby to do was slip a serviette into her bag as a memento of the evening.

      A few moments later they walked out into the street and there, waiting for him, was his driver.

      ‘I’m going to get a taxi home,’ Libby said.

      ‘Why would you do that when I have a car waiting?’

      A car that, from the way she was feeling, would only lead to his door. She looked up at him. ‘I think we both know why.’

      ‘Well,’ he said, ‘it was very refreshing to meet you, Ms Tennent.’

      ‘It was very daunting to meet you.’ Libby smiled. ‘Well, it was at first.’

      ‘And how about now?’

      His hands went to her hips, the move sexy and suggestive as he framed where their minds were. Libby had a sudden urge to be lifted by him, to wrap her legs around him.

      ‘I’m very daunted,’ she admitted, ‘though the middle bit was fun.’

      It was daunting only because she was about to be kissed by the devil.

      Why the hell did I order French onion soup, she thought, wondering if she could press Pause on him and scrabble in her bag for mints.

      Oh, that was right, she’d had those chocolate ones with her coffee.

      ‘What are you thinking?’ Daniil said, because her eyes were darting and it was as if she was having a conversation with herself.

      ‘I’m not going to tell you.’

      He didn’t test the waters, he didn’t start slowly, he just lowered his head from a great distance and Libby got the most thorough kissing of her life. His lips parted hers, his lips, not his tongue, and he held her so firmly that even as she went to rise onto her toes still he held her down. And when her lips were opened his tongue tipped hers and he explored her, not particularly softly. His jaw was rough and delicious, and when she tried to kiss him back she was met by a refusal.

      This was his kiss to her, his mouth said. It wasn’t a dance of their mouths. He didn’t even lead, he simply took over, tasting her, stilling her, making her body roar into flame with his mouth. So solid was he Libby felt as if she were leaning against a wall. Even when someone knocked into them they were barely interrupted, such was the shield of him.

      His kiss had her hot, right there in the street, but the only movement he allowed was to let her hands reach for his chest. She slid her fingers over the cool fabric of his shirt and found the nub of his nipples. Yes, she was hot and aching for more, her hips were pushing frantically against his hands so their bodies might have more contact. But then, when he coiled her so tight, he released her mouth. He’d let her glimpse a fraction of what being held by him felt like and then he cruelly removed the pleasure.

      She sucked in the summer night air while craving his mouth again.

      ‘Bed,’ Daniil said.

      ‘I don’t...’ Libby halted. What had she been about to say—that she didn’t want to?

      Well, yes, she did.

      Since the age of eight, dancing had come first, which had meant self-discipline.

      In everything.

      How nice to stand here on the brink of making a decision based purely on now, on her own needs and wants right at this moment.

      And she did want.

      So she chose to say yes when the wisest choice might have been to decline.

      ‘Bed.’ Libby nodded and then blinked at her response. She didn’t retract it but her voice was rueful when she spoke next. ‘I am so going to regret this in the morning,’

      ‘Only if you expect me to love you by then.’

      Third warning bell.

      She could turn and walk away now.

      ‘Oh, no,’ Libby said, and in that at least she was wise.

      ‘Then, there’s no reason for regret.’

       CHAPTER THREE

      THE SECURITY TO get past for his penthouse apartment rivalled that at Daniil’s office.

      First his driver spoke into an intercom and gates opened that led to an underground car park. From there they walked to another elevator that was only opened when Daniil typed in a code and gave his name in his low sexy drawl.

      Up into a foyer they went, where they were greeted, and then it was another elevator up to his place.

      Once inside, he threw his jacket over a couch and poured them both a drink and then sat on one of the large sofas, leaving Libby standing for a moment, taking it all in.

      Daniil was very used to having women in his home. He didn’t like going to theirs. Here, he was in control.

      What he wasn’t used to, though, was a woman like Libby. Her flat shoes made no sound on his marble tiles as she went over and looked out at the view and, Daniil was sure, she had another conversation going on in her head.

      He lived above the clouds, Libby thought, or at least that was how it felt. They were so high up that she could be flying now, or in a hot-air balloon.

      ‘You don’t sound like a pony clipping around,’ he observed.

      ‘Ah, yes, noise irritates you.’ Libby smiled as she nursed a brandy and stared out at a dusky London, the sky flaring orange and promising that tomorrow would be another hot day, and she thought about the lead-up to tonight. ‘I was going to knock on your office door just to annoy you. And then knock again.’

      ‘Is that why you were smiling when you came in?’ Daniil asked, as he recalled thinking that she had been laughing at some private joke.

      Now she shared it.

      ‘It was.’ Libby turned from one delicious view to another.

      Him.

      ‘Do you know that I was sent off to clean myself up before Cindy would let me in to see you?’

      ‘Of СКАЧАТЬ