His Christmas Bride

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His Christmas Bride Page 17

by Brooks, Helen


  ‘Happy, Mrs Hamilton?’ As she stood wrapped in Zak’s arms on the hotel steps as they watched the others leave, a winter dusk was turning the sky into a blaze of red and gold, the colours reflected in the crystals on the snow like a carpet of precious stones. The scene was magical. The whole day had been magical.

  As the cars disappeared she turned in his arms, the enchantment of the moment making her voice tremble as she whispered, ‘Come to bed.’

  ‘Have you no shame, woman?’ he smiled, kissing the tip of her nose. ‘It’s not even five o’clock yet.’

  ‘OK, then.’ She smiled back, sliding her arms round his waist and snuggling into the hard male body. She knew he had been as impatient as her for their guests to leave. ‘We’ll have dinner first.’

  ‘The hell we will,’ he murmured softly.

  The bridal suite wasn’t large but it was beautifully fitted out in shades of ivory, cream and gold, the four-poster bed dominating the room. Zak had whisked her up in his arms and carried her over the threshold, and as he set her down, holding her tight against him, she could feel anticipation had already made him as hard as a rock.

  He touched her eyelids with his lips, one after the other, before moving to her mouth. Her lips parted and his tongue took the territory within. There was a fire inside her, spreading to every nerve and sinew as the taste, the touch, the smell of him spun in her head. She felt she couldn’t get close enough to him, and as he undid the zip of her dress her skin was alive from the tips of her toes to the crown of her head.

  The frock slipped to her feet, and she stood revealed in the lacy underwear which—considering it was mere wisps of nothing—had cost a packet. It was worth every penny for the look on Zak’s face as his eyes devoured her.

  ‘My beautiful, beautiful wife,’ he said, the wonder in his voice making her blush. His hands moved to her breasts, stroking delicately until her nipples peaked beneath his exploring fingertips and her breath came ragged and fast.

  She tugged at his shirt and undressed him as he peeled the last remaining slips of material from her body, and then they were naked at last. He was magnificent. She looked with something approaching awe at his muscled chest and shoulders and lean thighs, the dark hair on his chest narrowing to a thin line bisecting his flat stomach and then becoming thicker again between his legs. He was hugely aroused.

  He drew her over to the bed, kissing and caressing and stroking her as he laid her down on the scented linen, and then he proceeded to take her into a captivating place she’d never been to before. Nothing she had experienced with Dean could have prepared her for being made love to by Zak. And that was what it was—being made love to. Her needs and wants were all-important to him, and instead of the quick satisfying of his desire he had begun to touch and taste every inch of her skin with delicate skilfulness, bringing her to the brink over and over again, only to slow her down and then begin the intoxicating art all over again. Sometimes playful and teasing, other times tender or lusty, he admired her with his eyes, his hands, his mouth, and with such erotic finesse she thought she would die from the pleasure he was creating.

  ‘I love you, my darling, I love you more than life itself.’ In the moment before he finally took her he breathed the words against her mouth. ‘And this is just the beginning of a lifetime of love that will get better and better with each day that passes.’

  ‘I know.’ She clasped him to her, feverish in her desire that they come together at last. ‘And I love you, so much.’

  When he possessed her, even then his self-control held. He moved slowly at first, experimentally, watching her face to see her delectation as he increased the momentum of his rhythmic thrust. As he began to move harder and deeper, she felt a blindingly sweet sensation begin to grow until, as he possessed her to the hilt, she exploded into a world of light and sensation, and there was nothing but Zak and their love.

  It was long moments before she could speak or move, and then her voice was husky as she held his face in her hands. ‘Thank you.’ She kissed him as they lay still joined together in the soft warmth of the bed, the tranquil frosted-pearl world outside the window quiet and still. ‘Thank you for seeing what I couldn’t see and believing in us.’

  ‘A pleasure.’ He smiled lazily, his eyes loving her.

  ‘I never thought it could be like this,’ she said softly. ‘It was so…’ There were no words to describe what it had been.

  He kissed her, rolling over and then fitting her into his side as he drew the covers over them, his arm round her. ‘Perfect,’ he finished for her. ‘Because we are perfect together. I’ve known other women, Blossom, but none of them have ever stirred in me what you did with just one look that first day. Love hit me like a thunderbolt, and the more I got to know you the more consuming it became. It was inconvenient, painful, demoralising at times…’

  ‘Oh, Zak.’ She kissed the side of his mouth.

  ‘But I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. I was only half alive till I met you and I knew it. I love everything about you, your warmth, your quirkiness, your sense of humour, your stubbornness, everything, because all the facets make up the whole. You’re mine, you’ll always be mine, because I will never let you go. I’ll share you with our children, but that’s all.’

  Babies. Zak’s babies. Warmth filled her, and she snuggled closer into his body, the rough magic of his body hair thrilling her. Determined little boys with black hair and blue eyes, and maybe a girl who would adore her daddy. He would be a wonderful father. Instinctive. You only had to see him with Harry and the girls to know that.

  ‘I thought my future was all set out in front of me when I was in America,’ she whispered. ‘I looked down the years and they were empty and barren. I knew I’d made a mistake then, deep inside, but I would never have had the courage to do anything about it without you coming to get me.’

  He gave the phantom of a smile. ‘Hijacking you when you were too weary to fight me. It was the only way.’

  She nodded, twisting in his arms and touching his face, tracing loving fingers over the hard planes of his jaw, and following the lines of his mouth. ‘I never thought then I’d have a husband for Christmas,’ she said, a little catch in her voice.

  He kissed the tips of her fingers before pulling her on top of him, his body proving their love-making wasn’t finished yet. ‘I told you,’ he said smokily. ‘There is a Santa Claus after all.’

 

 

 


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