by Day Leclaire
Her breath quickened with each one he loosened, and she fisted her hands around the arms of her chair. It seemed to take forever before he finished. Was he waiting for her to protest? To change her mind? It wouldn’t happen. It was as though her inhibitions were released with each practiced flick, freeing her to express every sensation crashing through her. At long last he finished, sliding both jacket and blouse from her body.
“Nice,” he commented, tracing the scalloped lace edging her bra. “Very nice. Who’d have guessed you were hiding something this sexy under such a prim business suit? Which is the truth, do you suppose? The suit or the lingerie?”
“What makes you think they’re not both the truth?”
His index finger dipped beneath the lace and stroked. “Are they? Or is one truer than the other? Siren or businesswoman? Which is the better fit?”
“This morning, trying to change a baby’s life, it was the businesswoman. Although I’m not sure that’s even an accurate description. Perhaps advocate suits best. As for tonight…”
She stood, praying her legs would hold her. The instant she turned to face him, he kicked the chair out of the way. “What about tonight?” he asked.
“I’m not a siren. But I am a woman, a woman who wants you.” She stepped closer. “You’re wasting time. Are you going to take me or just talk about it?”
Four
Lander didn’t need any further prompting. He swept Juliana into his arms and carried her to the bedroom. He didn’t bother turning on the lights. A half-moon shone through the windows offering the perfect amount of illumination. He released her legs and allowed her to slide down his body, inch by luscious inch. The moon turned her into a palette of charcoal and silver—skin kissed with silver moonbeams, eyes as inky as the coal-black sky. Even her hair picked up the shades of the night, dousing the flames, if not the heat the color imitated.
He lowered his head, burying a kiss in the silken juncture of shoulder and throat. “One night,” he whispered against her heated skin. “I swear I’ll make it unforgettable.”
He could feel her hands on his head, her fingers trembling as she threaded them into his hair. “I want unforgettable,” she told him, holding him close. “Even more, I want to give it to you, as well.”
“You already have.”
He feathered kisses across her face, determined to taste every part of her. He was so intent on his exploration that he barely felt her unbutton his shirt or loosen his belt buckle. He fought against the urge to take, quickly and thoroughly. Juliana deserved more. If they only had one night, he would make certain they took their time and enjoyed every single second.
He found the zip at the side of her skirt and lowered it. To his amusement she rested her hands on his shoulders, and gave a rolling shimmy that sent the skirt drifting to the floor before nudging it aside. It left her standing in a pool of moonlight, clad in stockings and heels and a bra and thong. She paused then, and he caught a hint of vulnerability in her upturned face.
He traced her cheekbones with his thumbs. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I mean—” She made a small, fluttering gesture. “Nothing’s wrong, exactly. It’s just that I’ve known you barely a day.”
“And yet you’re standing in my bedroom, practically nude, about to make love to me.”
He could feel a flush gather along her cheeks. “Yes.”
“And it feels wrong.”
“No.” She shivered from the sudden chill that seemed to have invaded the room. Instead of wrapping her arms around herself or reaching for her clothes, as he half expected her to do, she shifted deeper into his arms, drawing warmth from him. “It feels right. It scares me how right it feels. How could that be in just a few short hours?”
She’d stunned him with her confession. Even more unnerving was how her observation mirrored his own subconscious thoughts. Holding her, loving her, having her in his bed, his apartment, his life, did feel right. It wasn’t a possibility he was willing to deal with, not when they only had this one night available to them.
This rightness, it had to result from the novelty of the situation. No more than that. Just lust. Once sated it would diminish, easing from this clawing necessity to something more manageable. Something that didn’t tear him apart inside. Years from now when this time with Juliana came to mind, he’d smile reminiscently, savoring the faded memory the same way he savored a fine port or a Cuban cigar.
He glanced down at the woman he held, certain their reaction to each other was simple sexual attraction. How could it be anything more? Resolution filled him. He’d make the most of what they shared in the next few hours. Give her a memory she’d never forget, something she could savor, as well. And then it would end.
“It feels right because it is right,” he reassured. For now. Knowing he had to be fair, he added, “We can stop. If it’s only sex, it’ll pass. We’ll come to our senses, eventually.” Maybe.
She laughed at that. “I don’t think this will pass, not until we’ve done something about it.”
Nor did he. “Then let’s see how right we can make it.”
There wasn’t any talking after that. Focus narrowed, tightened. He could sense the slow build within her, the gradual drift from sweet want to desperate need. He curbed his impatience, the instinct to take her fast and thoroughly. To mark her as his. Instead, he continued on a slow, languid path, savoring each progressive step.
He unhooked her bra while she made short work of his unbuttoned shirt. His slacks came next, along with her heels. He knelt to roll her stockings down the endless length of her legs, pausing periodically to kiss the path the drift of silk bared.
She clung to him for balance, shuddering beneath his caresses. “Hurry,” she urged.
“Not a chance.” He gave his undivided attention to the inner curve of her thigh, catching her as she sagged in his arms. “This is too important to rush.”
Clothes ringed them in a tangled circle. Snatching a final kiss, he lifted her into his arms. He stepped from the circle of clothes and moonlight toward the shadowed bed, following her down onto the plush comforter. Her dark curls flowed out around her, captivating him. She was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. Satin soft. Warm and generous. Filled with a hunger that matched his own. She returned his look, seducing him with a laugh as she melted against him.
“What would make you happy, love?” He filled his palms with her breasts and gently nipped at the rigid tips before laving them with his tongue. “This? Or how about…”
He trailed kisses downward, over the valley of her belly to the edge of her thong. Hooking his thumbs in the elastic riding her hips, he tugged, baring her. The perfume of her sex threatened to drive him insane. He found her with his mouth. Loved her. He heard her choked cry, her pleading words escaping in swift, desperate pants. Her muscles bunched, buttocks and thighs rippling beneath the strain, while she gathered up fistfuls of the comforter. Within minutes a high keening sob broke from her and she shattered in his arms.
“No, no.” Her head moved restlessly back and forth. “It can’t be over.”
He soothed her with a gentle touch. “It’s not over, love. It’s just beginning.”
He covered her body with his, stroking initially to calm, then to arouse. He’d promised himself when they’d met that he’d explore every inch of her body, and tonight he intended to do just that. They exchanged kisses, tentative at first, then with growing ardor. He’d anticipated a slow burn, building bit by bit, log heaped on burning log. But it was nothing like that. Wildfire exploded, sweeping fierce and reckless in one direction then another, overrunning sense and sensibility until they were both caught up in a maelstrom beyond their control.
His hands played over her until he heard the hitch in her breath that warned of her approaching climax. He sought out the heart of her, cupping the source of the fire. He’d done this to her. His touch had brought her to the brink once again. The knowledge roused something indescribable in him, awaken
ing an emotion he couldn’t put name to or fully understand. It was primal and viscerally male. A word echoed in the deepest recesses of his mind. A single word, chanted over and over again, like a mantra, offering both promise and intent.
Mine.
Juliana’s voice joined the chorus. “Please. Please, Lander. Take me now. Make me yours.”
He levered above her and dipped himself in her liquid heat. She wrapped her legs around him, locking him tightly against her. He surged, deep and hard, stroking into her. He’d never in his life felt anything like it. So snug and sleek. Almost virginal. She gasped out his name and when he moved even that one word was lost to her.
Still, he heard her singing, a soft musical cry of urgency and delight. Of wonder. Of rapture. And somehow he knew—knew without doubt or question—that it was a song she’d never sung before. That the woman in his arms wasn’t almost virginal. Until just seconds ago, she’d been a virgin. She’d given herself to him without condition or hesitation, despite there being no future in it for either of them.
He mated their bodies, filling her again and again, whispering words, endless words, he couldn’t afterward recall. They poured from the very heart of him as he poured his heart and soul into her. She arched beneath him, and the building came, faster and more powerful than before. It pounded unrelentingly until they reached the dizzying crest, teetering there for an endless second. The climax came, so hard and merciless, that all they could do was surrender to its taking, clinging to each other in its aftermath.
Breathless, they collapsed in a tangle of slick arms and legs, utterly spent. He had no idea how long they lay there while their bodies cooled, then chilled. Flinging out a hand, Lander snagged a section of comforter and pulled it over them, cocooning them in a silken nest.
Forever passed before passion eased and his brain began to function again. “Why, Juliana?” He rolled onto his side, levering himself upward onto an elbow. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
To his frustration the bed remained in shadow, concealing her expression. Even so, he could hear the wariness in her voice. “Tell you what?”
“Don’t pretend. You’ve never done anything like this before. Why now? Why me?”
She shrugged. “Because it felt right.”
“That’s not good enough.”
She sat up, and this time the moon did find her, cutting across her face and lapping over her bared shoulders. “Do you think I wanted it to be you? That I wasn’t hoping for more than you have to offer? More than I can give you? But when you touch me…” She turned her face away. “Is it just me? Or do you feel it, too? Isn’t that why I’m here?”
“Hell. I’m sorry.” He snagged a rope of curls and tugged until she looked at him again. “It just caught me by surprise. I find it hard to believe that there hasn’t been a man in your life before this.”
“There was a man.”
A possessive stab caught Lander by surprise. “Obviously things didn’t work out, because there’s no question in my mind that he never had you in his bed.”
“No.” The intense pain in that single word had him wanting to gather her up and protect her from everyone and everything that might hurt her again. “He wanted to seduce me for reasons of his own. I found out before I made the ultimate mistake.”
Possessiveness turned to cold anger. “A Verdonian?”
“No, Your Highness.” A hint of gold flickered in her eyes, highlighting her amusement. “Not a Verdonian. The dungeons and torture rooms won’t be needed.”
“I’d have done it,” he growled.
“Let’s forget about Stewart.” She rolled on top of him and captured his mouth with hers. “Isn’t there something else you’d rather be doing?”
It was an offer he couldn’t resist. The remaining hours of the night flowed from one unforgettable moment into another until exhaustion overtook them and they finally slept. When next Lander awoke, sunlight enveloped the room, filling it with a sparkling brilliance. But the warmth had fled.
Juliana was gone.
Juliana lifted her face to the first rays of the morning sun. Rather than hail a cab, she decided to walk for a while, needing the exercise to help center herself. Initially, her steps were light and joyous, the blood singing through her veins. Last night was the most incredible of her life. She’d never imagined lovemaking could be so earth-shattering. The fact that one man could make her feel so loved and cherished, amazed her every bit as much as it confused her. But Lander had done that and more.
A secret smile swept across her mouth and a passing pedestrian returned the smile with a wink and a grin. She shook her head, marveling. Imagine a lifetime filled with nights like the one she’d just experienced. Greeting each day locked in Lander’s arms, having the right to stay there as long as she wanted. And imagine waking each morning filled with a jubilance and contentment that surpassed anything she’d dared believe possible. She hugged the emotions close, reveling in them.
Until she remembered.
Lander could never be a part of her life. She’d never know what it felt like to awaken in his arms, because it would never happen. She’d agreed to give him a single night, no more. And he’d accepted the offer and promised not to ask for another. Even if he wanted to see her again, to continue their relationship, it was impossible.
Maybe he’d have succeeded in tempting her if he could have guaranteed that their affair would remain secret. But she’d had enough experience with the paparazzi to know better. Eventually they’d discover Lander was seeing her. And once they did, they’d ferret out her identity. Her real identity. When that happened, it would cost Lander big-time. He might very well lose the election because of her and she couldn’t bear it if that happened. Besides it wasn’t like she’d be staying in Verdonia much longer. Soon she’d move on to another European country.
Her energy drained away, her earlier euphoria fizzling like a spent firecracker. Hailing a cab, she sat in the back, fighting tears. She tried to run through a series of mathematical equations to calm herself, but even that was beyond her. Ten minutes later she arrived outside of her apartment building. Paying the driver, she entered the complex and took the elevator to the tenth floor, grateful that she had no work pending and could take the day off to lick her wounds. To her dismay, even that was denied her. Stepping into her apartment, she found Joc waiting. She took one look at her brother and burst into tears.
“Aw, hell,” he muttered, gathering her into his arms. “What did that bastard do to you?”
“Nothing. Everything.” She fought to regain control with only limited success. “I’m sorry, Joc. I don’t know what’s the matter with me.”
“I told you to stay away from him. Naturally you didn’t listen and now he’s made you cry.” Beneath the brotherly concern she heard a ferocity that alarmed her. “No one’s made you cry since Stewart.”
His comment stopped her cold. She remembered all too well what he’d done to Stewart for that single affront. The only jobs still available to him involved mops and buckets of soapy water.
“No!” She pulled back, fisting her hands in her brother’s shirt. “Now you listen up, big brother. You stay out of this. Lander didn’t make me cry. I’m serious. He didn’t.”
He greeted her reassurance with skepticism. “Then why are you so upset?”
“Because he wanted to continue the relationship and I refused to even consider it.”
It wasn’t precisely accurate, but she didn’t doubt for a minute that if she’d made the offer, Lander would have accepted without hesitation. He’d wanted her to stay with him. The desire had been buried in every whispered word, in each hungry kiss, in his first tender caress, straight through to his last. He’d overwhelmed her with want, seduced her with a need she’d never realized she possessed. If she’d been able to find the least little excuse for remaining with him, she’d have seized it without hesitation. But there hadn’t been any reasonable excuses. The risk was too great, protecting Lander’s reputation paramou
nt. That far outweighed her petty wishes.
Joc shook his head. “You’re not making a bit of sense. That alone is peculiar, considering you’re one of the most rational, analytical women I know. If Lander still wants you, then what’s the problem?”
“You know what the problem is.”
A muscle jerked in his jaw. “You’re afraid people will find out who you are and dig up old history about you. And you don’t want to be in that sort of media frenzy again.”
“Yes.” She let go of his shirt, trying to smooth the wrinkles as assiduously as she tried to smooth the pain from her face. “You were right to warn me away from him. He’s a prince. I’m no one. I’m worse than no one. If his people find out who I am or about my background, he’ll lose the election.”
“You don’t know that, not for sure,” he protested.
“Yes, I do.” She took a step back and offered her most implacable expression, the one she used when dealing with recalcitrant clients. “It’s over, Joc. I had my one night with him. That’s all I asked for or wanted, and it’s exactly what I received.” It would be foolish to hope for more.
“Are you certain? I can fix this, if you want.”
“I’m positive. And no, I don’t want you to fix a thing.” She managed a quick, bright smile. “Seriously. Stay out of it.”
Joc met her smile with one of his own, his a hard flash of white against his sun-darkened skin. “Okay, Ana.” He tucked a tumble of curls behind her ear. “After all, haven’t I always given you everything you wanted?”
“Yes, you have.” But he couldn’t help her this time, she realized. What she wanted wasn’t his to give.
The instant the door closed behind her brother, the dam broke and with it came the realization that by allowing herself to become emotionally involved with the one man she couldn’t have, she’d totally and completely ruined her life.
Lander stared at Arnaud in stunned disbelief. “What did you say?”
