Harlequin Presents July 2017 Box Set : Sicilian's Baby of Shame / Salazar's One-night Heir / the Secret Kept from the Greek / Claiming His Convenient Fiance (9781460351802)

by Marinelli, Carol; Hayward, Jennifer; Stephens, Susan; Anderson, Natalie

“And now?”

  “Now I have no idea what I’m doing.”

  “Yes you do,” he said softly. “You know this is right. Why so nervous, angel?”

  “Because,” she whispered, so caught up in him she was a lost cause, “it was…magical.”

  His gaze darkened. Tightening his arm around her waist, he brought his mouth to her ear, his stubble rasping the sensitive skin of her cheek. “I will make it magical. Trust me.”

  She melted, her insides dissolving into liquid honey. He pressed a kiss to the sensitive spot behind her ear, sending a shiver through her. She arched her neck to give him better access, tiny bolts of electricity exploding across her skin as he tasted her with an open-mouthed caress.

  “Oh,” she said, jolted out of her reverie. “That’s odd.”

  “What?”

  “Sadie just walked off the dance floor.”

  He straightened, his gaze flicking to Antonio who stood at the side of the dance floor, looking a little dazed. “That is odd.”

  She watched Sadie hurry toward the house, her heels sinking into the grass. She stopped, removed her shoes, then ran the rest of the way, stilettos hanging from her fingers. As if she couldn’t move fast enough.

  “Should I go after her do you think?”

  “No.” The curtness of Alejandro’s tone claimed her attention. The banked fire in his eyes held it. “No distractions, no drama and no interruptions,” he said meaningfully. “Let them handle it.”

  Her stomach curled. When the song ended, her fiancé had a quick word with Sebastien and Monika, wrapped his arm around her waist and walked her across the lawn toward the house. Her heels kept sinking into the grass just as Sadie’s had. Pulling to a halt, she bent and tugged them off.

  Alejandro increased his pace, Cecily half running to keep up with him. When they reached the cobblestoned walkway he swung her up into his arms and carried her up a set of back stairs she hadn’t even known existed.

  “Could be glass,” he said blithely.

  “You just like carrying me,” she teased.

  “Yes,” he agreed, “I do. And it gets us there faster.”

  She clung to him as he walked down the hallway toward their suite. Outside their room, he paused and shifted her weight to open the door. She wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing his mouth down to hers for a kiss. The hot, open-mouthed caress was wild and delicious, sizzling the blood in her veins.

  Muttering an oath, he broke the kiss. She made a sound of protest, twining her fingers tighter into his hair. He ignored her, turning the handle and carrying her inside.

  His eyes were like burning coal as he set her down. “Stavros already thinks I’m out of control when it comes to you.”

  “And are you?” she asked archly.

  “Not yet,” he murmured, walking her backward until she collided with the hard surface of the wall. “We are, after all, on the other side of the door. But there’s still time yet.”

  Oh, my. Her shoes clattered to the floor as he buried his fingers in her hair and kissed her—slow, drugging caresses that made her sag weakly against the plaster. Good Lord the man knew how to kiss. How had she even resisted this?

  Lost in him, in the wild scent of pure, aroused male, she obeyed when he nudged her legs apart and stepped between them. Heat in the air, so thick she could taste it, she gasped as he settled his hips against hers, imprinting her with a hot, hard masculine demand she could feel right through the fabric of his trousers.

  “Alejandro,” she whispered.

  Palming her thigh, he pressed his thumb to the hollow where hip met leg and spread her wider apart. She flattened her palms against the wall as he thrust against her with a slow, erotic focus that stole her breath.

  Dark, sensual eyes met luminous blue. “You want me, angel? I want to hear you say it.”

  Her tongue seemed glued to the roof of her mouth. He moved closer, resting his hands on the wall on either side of her, letting her feel every hard, pulsing inch of him.

  “You’re punishing me,” she breathed.

  “Sim,” he agreed. “I can’t focus. I can’t think anymore for wanting you. So say the words, querida. End this.”

  She closed her eyes. Rested her forehead against his chest, bones too weak to hold her. “Make love to me, Alejandro,” she whispered. “I want your hands all over me.”

  He picked her up and carried her to the massive, king-sized bed with a speed that made her dizzy. Sitting down with her on his lap, he ran his thumb over her trembling bottom lip before he took possession, his kiss a shimmering, sensual meeting of the mouths that promised only exquisite pleasure.

  Her skin felt cool as he slipped the straps of her dress from her shoulders and pushed it down to her waist. Bare under his gaze, body vibrating with tension, she felt her nipples harden in blatant invitation. The lust in his eyes as he drank her in coiled her insides tight. Her heart slammed in her chest as he bent her back over his arm and sampled one rosy tip, then the other, the erotic flick of his tongue, the hard suction of his mouth driving her wild.

  She moved restlessly beneath him. Lifting his mouth from her flesh, he set her on the bed, stretched her out like a feast for his consumption. Her eyes were glued to his as he placed a warm hand on her thigh, pushed her dress up to her waist.

  “Alejandro.”

  “Shh.” His big palm scaled the taut, trembling skin of her abdomen. “We’re both wound up. I’m going to give you some relief first, meu carinho. Make you feel good. If I take you now, it won’t be good for you.”

  She could almost guarantee it would be, but she wasn’t about to argue when he sank his fingers into the sides of her panties and stripped them off. Her teeth dug into her lip, palms went damp as he pushed her thighs apart with gentle hands and settled himself in between them.

  She tensed as he slid his palms beneath her hips to lift her up.

  “Let me,” he murmured, breath hot against her most intimate flesh.

  And then there was only the delicate slide of his tongue against her overheated, aching body. Light so light, it was just enough to tease, to make her crazy. She arched into his touch, a desperate plea on her tongue. Deeper he delved, his sensual, leisurely enjoyment of her as he stroked and tasted her making it clear he loved to do this to her.

  It turned her on to watch. Made her crazy. She cried out when he closed his mouth over her sensitized flesh and sucked gently. Shoved a fist in her mouth as she absorbed the waves of pleasure that rolled over her. Slow and languorous at first, they gathered in intensity as he consumed every centimeter of her as if he couldn’t get enough.

  She begged him hoarsely for relief. He captured her swollen nub between his teeth; razed her sensitive flesh. A flash of white lightning chased through her, fleeting, almost there. And then his mouth was back, the delicious lap of his tongue speeding up in intensity and she tipped over the edge, falling headlong into a shimmering river of pleasure so intense it locked her spine.

  * * *

  Alejandro moved up Cecily’s beautiful body, nuzzling her damp, velvety skin, absorbing the tremors that racked her limbs. He was shaking, so into her reactions he was hovering on the razor’s edge.

  Leaving her bathed in the aftershocks, he rolled off the bed, stripped off his clothes and slid on a condom, his flesh so sensitized, so swollen, he had to grit his teeth to do it. Cecily watched him from the bed, looking so sexy and disheveled, half-clad in the golden dress, having been thoroughly consumed by him, he was tempted to take her like that. Like a fallen angel.

  But he wanted her naked more—all of her lush curves bare beneath his hands. And he knew exactly how he wanted to take her because he’d been dreaming about it for weeks.

  Stepping back to the bed, he wrapped his fingers around hers, drew her up onto her knees and unzipped the back of her dre
ss. Sliding it over her head, he exposed her delectable, hour glass figure.

  His eyes held hers. “I want you on your hands and knees,” he murmured. “Can I have you like that?”

  A flush crept into her cheeks, her eyes huge, glittering sapphires against pale honey skin. There was shock there, yes, but also a deep pulsing excitement that pushed his own higher. Dropping a kiss on her shoulder, he placed her on her hands and knees. She was trembling, anticipating his touch as he joined her on the bed, caged her legs between his and found the sexy hollow of her back with his mouth.

  She arched into his touch with a low moan. His blood fizzled in his veins. Trailing his hand over the slope of her beautiful bottom, he slid his fingers between her thighs and rubbed at her damp, silken skin with the heel of his hand. A gasp escaped her. He bit down on his lip, leashing the urgent demand of his body as she pushed back against his hand, riding his touch.

  He waited until she was wet and more than ready for him before he covered her body with his; rested his throbbing length in the curve of her buttock.

  It was hot and erotic to have her like this, utterly at his mercy. Her fractured, shallow breathing said she felt it too.

  “Cecily,” he murmured, pressing his mouth to her back, “you with me?”

  She nodded. He ran his hand up the inside of her thigh and widened her stance. One hand on her hip, he guided the crest of his erection to her slick, wet flesh.

  Her breath hitched. “I’ll take it so slow,” he murmured. “I promise you. Trust me.”

  Her body was silken and welcoming, wrapping around him like a hot, velvet glove. It took every bit of his experience, his self-control, to move slowly, allowing her body to adjust to his. Finally, he was buried inside her, hips flush with her buttocks. Tipping his head back, he exhaled. She felt impossibly tight, impossibly good—like heaven on earth.

  “Alejandro,” she murmured, reaching a hand back to him.

  “Shh.” He set a palm against her stomach, anchoring her, holding her in place as he stroked deep inside her. It was more intense for her this way, he could feel it in the tension of her body, in the low sounds she made at the back of her throat. Relaxing as her body melted around his, she met his thrusts with an eagerness that threw all his composure out the window. Shredded his self-control.

  “Angel,” he murmured, flattening his palm against her stomach, feeling the tremors that raked through her. Blood pounded against his temples as he took her hips in a firm grip and stroked into her with hard, soul-shaking thrusts that threw him right to the edge.

  When he reached between her legs to take her with him, she made a broken sound. “Alejandro—”

  He froze, buried deep inside her.

  “I need to see you. Please.”

  The desire to carry his fantasy to its insanely good conclusion crumbled at the emotion in her voice. Pulling out of her, he picked her up and wrapped her legs around him so they were face to face, his heat buried inside of her in a single, smooth movement that made her gasp.

  “Better?”

  She dug her nails into his shoulders, beautiful eyes fixed on his, bright and unclouded. “Yes,” she breathed.

  He had his doubts in that moment he’d ever be able to deny her anything if it meant he could keep those eyes bruise-free, the spell she cast over him was so complete. His need to protect her, to have her, had always been far more powerful than his common sense.

  He distracted himself with her lush mouth, pushing that far too telling thought from his head. Her mouth against his, his hands under her buttocks, he brought her down on him again and again, the intimacy of their position, the caress of her silky flesh as he slid in and out of her a perfection he couldn’t describe.

  His head nearly exploded when she reached between her legs to pleasure herself, throwing her head back and giving herself to him unconditionally.

  “Meu Deus, that is sexy,” he murmured, heart stuttering in his chest. Her lashes fluttered down over her cheeks. Heat singed his skin as he watched her stroke herself to the edge. When her silken muscles clenched tight around him, squeezing him in a vise-like grip, he closed his eyes and gave himself to her in a shuddering release that seemed to go on forever.

  Her blue eyes were full of questions when he opened his. Hope. Expectation. Gathering her in his arms, he avoided them all, murmuring quiet words into her hair until she fell asleep.

  Nowhere near possessing the ability to do the same, he spent twenty minutes staring at the wall then slid out of bed, threw on some sweats and walked out onto the terrace with a cold glass of water.

  Bathed in the light of a spectacular orange and gold harvest moon, he stared down at the abandoned marquee, flapping in the breeze. Told himself it had just been good sex—perhaps the best of his life. That she was to be the mother of his child—of course he would feel something for her. But he knew it for the mistruth that it was. He’d never been able to flip a switch with Cecily like he had with every other woman in his life—to separate his emotions from his lust.

  She affected him—no question about it. Watching her walk out there today to help Natalia, into a world she loved, one that was making her bleed inside she missed it so much, had affected him profoundly. Her strength and her courage always had. But allowing himself to bring that emotion into this relationship wasn’t something he could afford to do. He would only let himself feel so far, then he would cut it off and Cecily would be the one getting hurt.

  He took a long draw of the water, absorbing the cool slide of the liquid down his throat. He’d finally gotten his relationship with Cecily back on track. Now he needed to ensure it became the rational, even keel affair he’d envisioned for the sake of the child they were having. Particularly given what lay ahead.

  He’d heard radio silence from Clayton Hargrove, something he’d have to deal with when they got home. He had a feeling with Clayton’s supreme arrogance in play this might all get worse before it got better—yet another reason to keep an already complex relationship from going places it could never go.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “RELAX,” ALEJANDRO MURMURED as they stepped off the jet outside of Brussels, deep in the heart of Salazar country. “My grandmother has promised to be on her best behavior.”

  Cecily gave him a long look. Relax? She was walking into enemy territory. About to meet the woman who refused to be in the same room as a Hargrove. How was she supposed to accomplish that?

  He slid an arm around her waist and tugged her into his side as they walked across the tarmac toward the jeep that waited, a silver-haired, diminutive figure standing beside it.

  Cecily had met Adriana Salazar once when Alejandro’s grandmother had presented her with a rosette at a show in Germany. A tiny powerhouse, she’d struck Cecily as having an iron spine. Proud. Regal.

  All those qualities met her now as they came to a halt in front of the hawk-eyed eighty-three-year-old, La Reve’s glorious seventy-five acres spread out behind her like a vibrant green picture postcard.

  “You remind me of your mother,” were the first words out of the matriarch’s mouth as she stepped forward to take Cecily’s hands in hers. “You could be twins.”

  Unsure if that was a compliment or not, Cecily brushed a kiss to both of Adriana’s lined cheeks. “Lovely to meet you,” she murmured. “We met in Germany of course, but it was very brief.”

  “Yes,” Adriana said. “You had a hell of a ride that day. You are gutsy, just like your mother was.”

  She chose to take that as a compliment. “Thank you.”

  Alejandro’s grandmother gave her grandson a warm hug, the deep affection between them obvious. “Come,” she said, gesturing toward the jeep. “I have lunch waiting.”

  The lovely meal in the Spanish, hacienda-style house was utterly civilized as Alejandro had promised, only the three of them in atten
dance with Alejandro’s mother, Luisa, off at a show. It was when Adriana took Cecily on a tour of La Reve after the meal, as Alejandro caught up on work, that the more probing questions came.

  She was clearly being vetted as Alejandro’s choice of bride as they explored the lush Belgian countryside in the jeep. Prepared for it, Cecily answered Adriana’s curious, sometimes blunt questions with honest, straightforward answers…and fell in love with La Reve along the way.

  The sprawling countryside was magnificent, the architecturally complex indoor schooling rings the work of a master, but it was the stunning, dark wood stables with their cathedral ceilings and beautiful chandeliers that stole her heart.

  It was there that Adriana housed her center for equine therapy where horses and riders from around the region came seeking her expert help. It had been in her head ever since Alejandro had helped her heal Bacchus that she might someday provide those same facilities in her own stables. She listened with rapt fascination as Adriana talked about the program, asking question after question.

  “You’re interested in that type of work,” Alejandro’s grandmother commented when they finally concluded the tour in the late afternoon with a glass of lemonade on the porch.

  Cecily nodded. “Bacchus and I had a bad accident in London. Alejandro helped us to get past it. I’m not sure we would have without him.”

  An assessing look from those hawk-like eyes. “You care for him.”

  She nodded. “I had no idea who he was when I met him. I fell for the man with all the trappings stripped away.”

  Adriana’s gaze moved back to the activity in the yard, a young groom leading an impressive black stallion toward the barn. “Alejandro tells me you didn’t know about Bacchus’s lineage.”

  “No,” she said evenly, “I thought he was descended from Nightshade. That’s what I was always told.”

  Adriana rested her head against the back of the chair, a frown drawing her brows together. “I never understood it.”

  “Understood what?”

  “Why your mother didn’t know.” She looked over at Cecily. “Luisa and Zara had an argument after the world championships the year your mother won silver. A big blow-out. Luisa lashed out, calling Zara a coward for refusing to admit Zeus was stolen property. Zara said it was all lies.”