Taming the Rebel Tycoon. Ally Blake

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      A few seconds later she gave a little cry as sensation followed sensation, like surface ripples on a pool that spread in ever-widening circles round a flung stone.

      When the sensations had died away, unconsciously she sighed. Though he had given her a great deal of pleasure, she had wanted the experience to be a shared one…

      As she lay with closed eyes, he kissed her and said, ‘Now the fizz has been disposed of we can go on to enjoy something altogether deeper and more rewarding, like a rich, satisfying Burgundy.’

      His hands began to move lightly over her, stroking and caressing, making each nerve-ending spring into life and effortlessly reviving the desire she had thought sated.

      By the time he fitted himself into the cradle of her hips, eager for his possession, she welcomed his weight. Even so, his first strong thrust made her gasp and, as though taken by surprise, he paused and asked, ‘Did I hurt you?’

      ‘Yes…No…It doesn’t matter.’ With an instinct as old as Eve, she lifted her hips enticingly and he began to move again, but a little more cautiously.

      ‘All right?’ he queried after a moment or two.

      Caught up now in a spiralling pleasure, she was past answering, but her flung back head and soft gasping cries were answer enough.

      Reassured, he carried them both to a shattering climax that sent them tumbling and spinning through time and space.

      Wrapped in black velvet, the sensations so deep and intense that she was shaken to the very core of her being, she lay beneath him, shuddering helplessly.

      At the same time she felt exalted, omnipotent, the feel of his flesh against hers and the weight of his dark head on her breast a priceless gift.

      She knew a sudden poignant happiness. He was her man. Her mate. Her love .

      So this was what love was really like, what all the love songs and poetry added up to. Two people coming together and meeting on every level, a meeting as much spiritual as physical.

      She could only feel glad that, instead of giving herself lightly for a moment’s gratification, she had waited for this one man.

      When their breathing and heart rate returned to something like normal, he lifted himself away and turned on his back. Then, gathering her close, he settled her head comfortably at the juncture between chest and shoulder and, his arm holding her securely, bent his head to kiss her.

      His kiss seemed gentle and caring and she found herself hoping against hope that he shared at least some of her feelings.

      After a little while she became aware of a quiet but persistent thought tugging at the sleeve of her consciousness, trying to gain her attention. Still euphoric, unwilling to think, she mentally waved it away. But refusing to be banished, it became even more insistent.

      It was another moment or two before she identified it, then surprise made her blurt out what she was now certain of. ‘You didn’t make love to me…Last night, I mean…’

      ‘No,’ he agreed.

      ‘But I thought…Though I couldn’t remember, I was sure we’d slept together…’

      ‘So we had. That is to say, we slept in the same bed. That’s all.’

      ‘I don’t understand why…’

      She felt the movement as he glanced down at her. ‘You went out like a light so, apart from taking off your clothes, I never laid a finger on you. I cursed myself for getting you in that state, but by then it was too late.’

      ‘But you said we’d…’

      Realising he’d never actually said anything, she changed it to, ‘You deliberately made me think we’d slept together.’

      ‘When you jumped to that conclusion, I just didn’t correct you.’

      And she could guess why not. With her believing they were already lovers, tonight’s seduction had been so much easier. Had she known the truth, would she have behaved differently?

      But it was too late to ask herself that.

      ‘Mad with me?’ he queried.

      She ought to be.

      But she wasn’t really.

      How could she be mad with a man who had given her so much, and with such tenderness?

      ‘No,’ she whispered.

      His arm tightened round her.

      Beneath her cheek she could feel the strong, steady beat of his heart, hear the quiet evenness of his breathing, smell the scent of his skin, with its heady combination of fresh perspiration and shower gel.

      It was so sweet, so intimate, that she gave thanks as she lay blissfully savouring the warmth and happiness, the feeling of belonging, of having finally come home.

      She was still marvelling at the peace and beauty of it when sleep crept up and wrapped her in a soft, dark blanket.

      Next morning she awoke to full remembrance and a singing happiness. A smile on her lips, she turned her head to look at Richard, but she was alone in the big four-poster.

      Sunshine was streaming in through the leaded glass of the windows and a glance at her watch showed it was almost a quarter to nine.

      Some time during the night he had wakened her with a kiss and made long, delectable love to her once more and, though a little tender in parts, her body felt as sleek and well-satisfied as a pampered pedigree cat.

      She stretched luxuriously, while her mind drifted on a cloud of euphoria. She had found her one and only love. He filled her heart and banished her loneliness, satisfied a gnawing hunger that had never been fed.

      He was so right for her. He had strength and humour, warmth and understanding, a willingness to reach out, to meet her on her own ground.

      Yet, like herself, he had a certain reserve, so there would always be thoughts and dreams to surprise. An element of spice to keep their relationship fresh.

       Their relationship…

      Like a train hitting the buffers, her rhapsodizing came to an abrupt halt. Could she call what they had a relationship ?

      Why not? she thought boldly. Though it was still in its early stages, it was a relationship. Hadn’t he made it clear that his feelings and his intentions weren’t merely casual?

      It was a start and if, in spite of their vastly different backgrounds and lifestyles, he could come to care for her, she could ask no more of life.

      And if he couldn’t?

      She pushed the intrusive thought away.

      At least she knew what it was like to really be in love, and it was a marvellous feeling! No wonder people said that love made the world go round.

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