“I’m not very good,” Natalie objected.
“I am,” Breno winked at her. “Vem. Come.” There was a hint of the imperiousness of his cousin, but Breno was more a flirtatious charmer. He grasped her hand and spun her with him onto the floor.
He moved fluidly, grinning broadly as he drew her with him, leading her easily, spinning her, moving her as efficiently as if she were a rag doll with no bones and no brains of her own.
It was dizzying, crazy, and she was moving too quickly to catch more than a glimpse of Christo with his grandmother. For a second she did and then Breno spun her away again. He made her laugh with exhilaration when he twirled her like a top. And at the music’s end he gave her one last spin so she was flung back dramatically in his arms.
“Not very good?” Breno raised his brows doubtfully as he drew her upright again. “Again?” he asked as the music began again.
“Não.” Christo’s voice came from behind her, hard and precise. “This one is mine.”
He took her hand in his and drew her hard against him, her knees banged against his knees, her breasts pressed against his chest. She thought there was a telltale hardness south of his belt and moved against him to be sure. He gritted his teeth.
Natalie looked up at him, relished the feel of him, moved closer still. “We danced in your bed,” she said as they began to move together with the music.
Something almost primal flashed in his eyes as he looked at her. Their gazes held for a long moment, then he bent his head closer.
“And now we’re dancing here.” His voice was almost a growl in her ear.
Dancing? Or making love?
Both, Natalie thought as the music wrapped them in its spell.
Breno had been a good dancer. It had been easy to follow his lead. But with Christo, she followed not just his body, but her heart.
He could lead her anywhere and she would follow. She had come here, hadn’t she? Done his bidding? Set herself up for a lifetime of pain?
His fingers pressed against her back, melding them ever closer.
“I want you.” Christo’s voice was ragged against her cheek. “I can’t take this anymore. When this is over, I want you. Tonight.”
They were words she’d despaired of ever hearing again. Words that made her heart sing. And even the word tonight didn’t daunt her. She wasn’t asking for forever.
She turned her head to touch her lips to his. “Yes,” she whispered. “Oh, yes.”
CHAPTER NINE
CHRISTO walked her back to her cottage wordlessly. His hand at the small of her back seemed to burn right through to her skin. And he was close enough that the heat from his body—and hers—seemed to simmer between them. The music was still playing, moody and romantic now. There was no pounding beat. It didn’t matter. Desire was still humming through the warm and humid air.
Jungle air, she had heard Christo call it.
“The sort of air that makes savages of us all,” Xanti had said tonight with a wink in the direction of his bride. And then he’d said gruffly, “Savages—or lovers.”
“Or grooms,” his bride had countered to the laughter of all assembled. And Xanti had grinned and swept her into his arms.
“Both,” he’d agreed, kissing her hungrily.
Now Natalie could feel that jungle air simmering between them.
Christo paused at the door, pushing it open for her, then stepping aside to let her enter. But he didn’t move back, made no move to leave her there.
She turned and paused, looking up at him. He stood so close she could see the lines of the thread in the black tux jacket he wore. She remembered the smoothness of it under her fingers when they’d danced. Remembered what it had been like to have his arms around her tonight, the pulse of his body in time with hers. Remembered the fire in his hooded eyes as he’d looked at her.
Felt even now the electricity that seemed to sing in her blood.
A look up at Christo’s face told her he was remembering it and feeling it, too. His gaze was still hot and dark and hungry. A muscle seemed to tick in his jaw.
Would he?
Should they?
It wasn’t hers to say. She knew that. This was his home, his family, his charade.
And if they did, what would it do to her? Did she want to find out? When he didn’t speak, just stood there, she knew she had to say something.
“It was a lovely wedding. A beautiful day.” She wished her voice wouldn’t waver.
“Yes.” Christo nodded. He didn’t blink. And his gaze never left hers.
She remembered that gaze. It had fastened on her the night he had finally taken her to his bed. It had mesmerized her, devoured her. And tonight it was doing exactly the same.
She should look away. Step back. Close the door. Lock it.
Instead she stood there, a doe trapped in headlights. “Christo.” His name on her lips was barely more than a whisper. She paused and ran her tongue over them. The very air seemed to shimmer between them.
“Send me away.” His voice was harsh.
She frowned at the tone. “What?”
His jaw tightened. “You heard me, Nat. Tell me to go.”
She hesitated, then drew a breath, steadying herself. She knew what he was demanding. And she knew the wisdom of it. But she couldn’t do it.
Fool that she was, she could not turn her back on him. He was the one who insisted that there was nothing between them. He was the one who had said, “I want you.” Let him be the one to walk away.
So she looked up and met his gaze steadily. “Why?”
He blinked, as if her response startled him. “You know why,” he said roughly.
She put a hand on the fine tropical wool of his coat. “Because you want me to be your conscience.”
“Because I want you to protect yourself!”
“And if I don’t want to be protected?” She lifted her gaze, raised her brows, challenged him.
He sucked in a harsh breath. “Por Deus! For God’s sake, Natalie!”
She dropped her hand and shrugged with as much lightness as she could manage. “What if I don’t?” she persisted.
“I don’t do love,” he reminded her harshly. “I don’t do marriage.”
It hurt to hear the words, spelling it out again. But she simply nodded. “I know that,” she said evenly. “You aren’t telling me anything new, Christo. I knew that before I came down here with you. That’s why you asked me, isn’t it? Because I knew and I could still come along and be ‘believable’?”
His gaze became almost a glare now, but she didn’t turn away. It was true. She knew it and he knew it.
“Send me away, Nat,” he said again.
And once more, slowly but deliberately, she shook her head. “No.”
Then she backed into her small cottage, but left the door open, watching him, her eyes never leaving his.
Seconds passed. Three. Five. Maybe even ten. She didn’t count. She could see the struggle on his face. And then the resignation.
“Fine, damn it,” he said at last. “If this is what you want—” And he strode in after her. He looked almost menacing, but she didn’t back down.
“Is it what you want, Christo?” she asked him quietly.
“You know it is.” He was unfastening his bow tie and jerking it loose, trying to shrug off his jacket and pulling at the buttons of his shirt even as he spoke.
Natalie pushed the door closed behind him. Then she shut her eyes in a fervent prayer that, however painful it would be when Christo left her and went his own way, the memory of this night would be enough. That having it, cherishing it, hanging on to it forever, would sustain her forever. Maybe she was a fool. Maybe she was making the biggest mistake of her life.
Or maybe she’d already made that when she’d fallen in love with him—and this was the best she could get.
Whichever…she turned and touched him, stilled his hands with hers. Then she swallowed and looked up to smile at him. “Let me.”
&n
bsp; He wanted to refuse. She could see it on his face. Christo Savas was not a patient man. Natalie knew he would have happily ripped his shirt right off, then started on her dress. And he could have undressed them both in a few seconds flat.
But she didn’t want that.
If tonight was going to last her a lifetime, she was determined to make the most of it. She would love him, share her bed with him, give and take pleasure—but she wanted it deliberate—and she wanted it slow.
“Nat,” he said raggedly.
But she shook her head. “Let me,” she whispered again. And slowly and carefully she undid the buttons of his dress shirt while he stood before her, his teeth clenched, his breathing quick and shallow.
When she had them undone, he raised his hands to take the shirt off, but she stayed them again. “Please.”
His breath hissed through his teeth. “You’re going to kill me,” he said.
She smiled. “I hope not.” She slanted a glance at him. “If you’re worried, I could send you away,” she reminded him.
“Then,” he muttered. “Not now.”
Now they had passed the point of no return. Natalie ran her hands down first one of his arms, and then the other, carefully removing his cufflinks. While he simmered with impatience, she tugged his shirttails out of his black trousers. Then and only then did she push the shirt back off his shoulders and peel it away from his body.
He yanked off his undershirt before she could take a breath.
“Christo!”
“I’m on fire for you.”
“The feeling is mutual,” she told him truthfully. “But we have all night.”
He shook his head as he toed off first one shoe and then the other, then kicked them aside. His hands went to his belt.
“Mine,” Natalie said firmly and got there before him.
He made a sound of impatience, but he stood still and let her unfasten the belt, then open it. Then, with her gaze meeting his, she slid down the zip of his trousers. A muscle in his jaw ticked, and she trailed her fingers over his straining erection and heard him grind his teeth.
“I want your dress off,” he told her. His voice was thick and rough. “Now.”
Natalie nodded and turned her back to him so he could undo the buttons. She hadn’t chosen this dress to be a challenge. But it was. No zipper slid down the length of its silken back. Instead, there was a row of tiny fabric-covered buttons. Alondra, one of Katia’s cousins, had done them all up for her this afternoon.
“Oh, Christo is going to kill you,” she’d giggled.
Natalie had doubted it. Christo had been determinedly hands-off during the whole trip. Not now. Now she heard the harsh exhalation of his breath as his trembling hands fumbled with the buttons.
“You did this deliberately.” Exasperation mingled with amusement in his tone.
Natalie turned her head to look at him. “I didn’t. Really,” she protested.
“It’s been driving me nuts all day. Provocative as hell.”
“It’s very modest,” she said. It was, too. A sleeveless dress, yes, but with a high neckline, the emerald silk covered all essentials very thoroughly.
“It fits you like a glove. Every man out there was ogling your curves.”
“Every man out there was looking at Katia.”
“I wasn’t.”
He sucked in another breath as he continued to battle the buttons. “And that slit you have on the side!” He groaned.
“So I can walk,” she said. “The dress is cut very narrowly.”
“Damned right it is. And then you dance and show a glimpse of that leg. And then—it’s gone again!”
“Nice to know it had an effect,” she murmured.
His laugh was ragged. “Oh, it had an effect.” His fingers stilled against her back. “You didn’t really like this dress all that well anyway, did you?” And before she could reply, he tore it the rest of the way down the back.
“Christo!”
He didn’t answer, just pushed it off her shoulders letting it pool at her feet. His fingers skimmed down the half slip she wore and then he unfastened her bra and took it off, too. “Better,” he muttered. “Much better.”
She only wore a pair of brief panties now, and when he turned her in his arms and held her so he could look at her, his hooded eyes were dark with desire.
Instinctively, Natalie wanted to cover herself. But Christo held her wrists in his hands as he stood and stared at her. And his gaze was so rapt that Natalie could do no more than stare back. She watched the quick rise and fall of his chest and the convulsive working of his Adam’s apple.
“You are so beautiful.” He breathed the words as he loosed her wrists and ran trembling fingers up the length of her arms to her shoulders. His fingers slid through her hair, then ran lightly down her back to hook in the waistband of her panties and draw them down.
Silently she stepped out of them and, naked to his gaze, reached out to do the same to him. He started to do it himself, but the light touch of her hands stopped him and he stood and let her have her way. And then he was as naked as she, and she could only stare, then let her fingers slide lightly down his chest and belly, along the length of his shaft, watching his whole body tense under her touch.
She reached beneath to cup him in her hands, to hold him, and he shifted and let out a shaky breath. “Nat,” his voice sounded strangled. “You’re going to burn me down.”
She looked up at him, then lowered her lids, smiled and leaned in to press a kiss to his lips. “Am I?”
“Yes! Oh, yes.” The words hissed between his teeth and then he moved. In barely an instant he had borne her back on the bed, rolling her beneath him and sliding between her legs.
She would have liked it to last longer, wanted more to savor. But she knew she had pushed him making him wait this long, insisting on having her way. And so she opened to him, smiled up at him—and was surprised when, instead of joining his body with hers, he rolled off so that he lay beside her.
“What?” She lifted her head to look at him.
It was his turn to smile, albeit wryly. “I’ve decided you’re right,” he said, his voice still rough and edgy with desire. “Why hurry?” He ran a hand down her side, making her sensitive nerve endings shiver delightedly. “We’ve got all night.”
At her obvious surprise, Christo just laughed, then leaned across to kiss her. “Don’t we?” he murmured against her lips. She loved the warmth of his mouth on hers, the light touch of his tongue, the teasing nibble of his teeth.
“All night,” Natalie agreed.
And she refused to let herself think beyond it.
He shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t have given in to temptation. But somehow, where Natalie was concerned, Christo had no will to resist.
What man in possession of all the right hormones could have spent the day with her, have held her hand, pressed his against the small of her back, danced with her, caught the occasional glimpse of the tanned length of her leg whenever her dress split halfway to the top of her thigh, saw her drink from his glass at exactly the same spot he had, and felt the warm invitation of her lips when he’d swept her close at the end of that last dance, and then take her to her door and walk away?
If she’d sent him…if she’d shaken her head and said no…he would have done it. He knew that. He wouldn’t do what she didn’t want him to.
But she hadn’t said no.
So how could he?
He wanted her too badly. Had been like a dying man in the desert this whole week—every glimpse of Natalie an oasis promising to slake his desire—and all week long he’d deliberately turned away.
And tonight he couldn’t. He knew he would never have slept a wink all night if he’d gone to his own room. An icy shower or a mile-long swim would have done nothing to quell the aching need within him.
He’d pay for it later. Whatever it was, he would pay the price.
But tonight—just this night—he had to spend with Natalie.
And so he backed off. To take it slowly. To savor her. Love her.
He reined in all his urgent instincts and set about doing just that. He kissed his way across her shoulder and down her arm. He nibbled her fingers. And when she shivered and would have balled them into a fist, he nosed them open again and pressed kisses on the palm of her hand. First one, then the other.
And when he let go of them, he felt them clench in his hair as he nuzzled her belly and moved south toward the juncture of her thighs.
“Christo!” It was somewhere between a laugh, a gasp and a protest.
“Shh.” He breathed on her curls, parted her, stroked her, felt her body tremble. Her fingers tightened in his scalp. She tugged on his hair.
He smiled. Her toes curled.
“Christo!” And he was glad he’d had a haircut as she gave a hard yank and pulled him up on top of her.
“You don’t like that?”
“Mm, well.” She shifted. “I don’t mind, but—”
“You don’t mind?” He grinned.
“All right, yes. It’s—lovely. It makes me crazy. I want—” But she stopped and shook her head.
“You want?” he pressed.
She wrapped her legs around him. “I want you.”
There was no doubt he wanted her just as much. No way to deny it. And no way to hold back now. He was too close to coming. Too close to making himself a part of her. Impossible, however much he might want to, to pull away again.
He shifted, but she held him fast.
“You’re not—” she said.
“—going anywhere,” he promised. “Only here,” he added as she released her grip enough so that he could settle in and fill her. His eyes squeezed shut at the slick sweet heat that surrounded him. He held perfectly still, drew a steadying breath, knew that if he moved just once it would be all over.
And then her fingers walked down his back, her back arched and she lifted to draw him even further in. Christo groaned, felt the urgency build despite himself, and knew again that the temptation of Natalie Ross was beyond his will power to resist.
One Night Mistress...Convenient Wife Page 13
