Latin Lovers: Seductive Frenchman: Chosen as the Frenchman's Bride / The Frenchman's Captive Wife / The French Doctor's Midwife Bride. Fiona Lowe

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СКАЧАТЬ she wondered if the X meant a kiss or was just his initial, before trying to figure out the rest of the message. A knock came and she went to answer it, still puzzling over his note.

      At the door were three women, all carrying various accoutrements. The light dawned when they came in and told Jane they were there to do a massage, pedicure, manicure, facial, her hair … in no special order. Her mouth dropped open, but they were too well trained to make any comment when it became apparent that they were dealing with a novice. Having never indulged herself like this before, Jane, after a moment of trepidation and the old haunting guilt, gave herself over to the experience. And went to heaven and back.

      A couple of hours later, when they’d left, she went to one of the mirrors and stared incredulously. Another creature looked back. A relaxed, buffed, shining version of herself, with sleek hair that fell in a smooth wave to just below her jaw. They had tinted her eyelashes, which she had never had done before, and now her eyes seemed huge in her face, framed by thick luxurious lashes.

      Before she could lose herself in uncustomary narcissistic bliss, she spied the clock out of the corner of her eye and saw that it was almost seven-fifteen. In a panic, she realised that she hadn’t even unpacked—and what could she possibly wear that he hadn’t already seen by now? With dismay, she pulled her bag into the bedroom and stopped when she saw the bed. A huge white box lay there, with another note and a red rose this time.

      Just in case. X

      She opened the box with clumsy fingers and pulled out a dress from the folds of tissue paper. And what a dress. It slid through her fingers when she tried to hold it. She gathered it back again, and stared in shock. It screamed designer. Sure enough, the label confirmed her suspicion. She mightn’t be a fount of knowledge when it came to celebrity and celebrity lifestyles, but even she recognised the famous name. It must be worth a fortune. She spied more in the box, and opened up the paper to reveal a matching set of silk and lace underwear. Silk stockings. Even shoes.

      Against every penny-scrimping sensibility that had been drummed into her, she couldn’t resist. She allowed the hotel robe to drop from her shoulders and she pulled on the underwear before stepping into the dress. It was strapless and tight-fitting. She looked at herself in the mirror. Was it meant to cling like that? Especially around her breasts? She looked behind … her bottom looked so … round.

      She heard the door and her heart thudded to a stop, before starting up again at twice the speed.

      ‘Jane? Where are you?’

      ‘In … in here … Wait! I’ll come out.’

      She felt suddenly panicked at the thought of him coming into the bedroom. With a deep breath, and squaring her shoulders, she opened the door and went into the suite.

      Xavier was pouring himself a glass of champagne, and he looked up, his hand stilling in the action. He put the bottle down slowly as his gaze raked her up and down from under his lashes. He had to put his hands into his pockets in a reflex action, to stop himself from reaching out and hauling her against his chest and crushing that soft kissable mouth under his.

      She looked … stunning. The dress showed off her figure to perfection, emphasising her hourglass shape, exactly as he had imagined. And her eyes … Lord, those eyes … with their innocently sensual promise—they made him want to lock all the doors, take her and bury himself so deep inside her that she’d never want another man again.

      He shook himself mentally. It was a nice dress. No need to go over the top about it. He’d seen plenty of women in far more revealing dresses. Taken them off too. And he would again in the future. Jane Vaughan was going home tomorrow, and it was a good thing … He’d been far too uncomfortably aware of alien emotions all week. Time to say goodbye and get back to normal. He had one more night. To get her out of his system for good.

      He dropped heavy lids over his eyes and bent to pour another glass of champagne before strolling over and passing it to her.

      Jane still hadn’t moved—had been rendered immobile under his very thorough inspection. She covered up her insecurity by taking a gulp of the sparkling vintage wine. The bubbles made her nose screw up, and she immediately felt silly for worrying. She was going to enjoy this last night, be free and easy.

      Xavier said throatily, ‘To you … you look beautiful tonight.’

      ‘Thank you … so do you.’ And he did. Darkly handsome in a black tuxedo. The snowy white shirt making his eyes stand out, that glittering phenomenal green.

      ‘Thank you for … laying on the massage and things today and this …’ She indicated the dress shyly.

      ‘My pleasure …’ And it would be, later, he vowed, struck again by her charming politeness. He was used to women expecting … taking from him. ‘I’ve booked a restaurant on the seafront for dinner … it’s not far. We can stroll, if you think you can in those shoes.’

      ‘I’ll be fine …’ Jane vowed that even if her feet were bleeding she wouldn’t say a word; she didn’t want a moment of the evening to be spoiled.

      He took her glass, and they were almost at the door when she stopped in her tracks by his side in sudden embarrassment.

      ‘I didn’t put any make-up on … I can’t go out in a dress like this with no—’

      Xavier put a finger to her lips, silencing her. He looked at her carefully and came very close, one hand on either side of her face. Then he bent his head and brought his mouth to hers and kissed her.

      Taken aback slightly for a second, Jane quickly forgot everything—where they were, where they were going—as the kiss deepened, and she brought her hands up to steady herself on his chest, the beat of his heart starting up a throbbing in her own pulse. With masterful expertise Xavier plumbed the depths of her mouth, and then, achingly slowly, traced her lips with his tongue before delving back in and stoking a fire that had heat travel from the molten centre of her all the way up to where she could feel her breasts aching heavily against their confinement.

      He lifted his head, breathing harshly. Jane opened her eyes reluctantly. He saw her cheeks flushed with a burgeoning arousal, her eyes glittering like stars under long black spiky lashes, and her lips … He almost kicked the door closed behind him, painfully aware of his own arousal … Her lips were full and swollen and moist, like two crushed petals.

      ‘There …’ he said gruffly. ‘You don’t need any make-up.’

      Taking her hand firmly in his, he pulled her behind him. Jane stumbled to keep up, bringing a hand up to sensitised lips. What did he mean by that?

      When she caught her reflection in the elevator mirror a few seconds later she saw exactly what he had meant, and blushed from her toes to the tip of her head.

      The restaurant was exclusive. When they arrived the bouncers fell over themselves to be the one to admit Xavier and his guest. The maître d’ fawned and fussed as he led them to a table tucked away from the main floor by an open window. Strategically placed plants ensured the kind of privacy that allowed them to see the rest of the room and yet not be observed themselves. A white tablecloth, sparkling silverware, gleaming glasses. Candlelight. Jane sighed and smiled. She couldn’t have done better if she had actually written it down on paper.

      ‘What’s so amusing?’

      She looked at him across the table, so at ease in these surroundings, supremely confident. He would never understand where СКАЧАТЬ