by Karen Foley
Knowing he was playing a dangerous game, he reached out and hit the stop button on the elevator, and they slid smoothly to a halt somewhere between the thirty-first and thirty-second floors. Lara’s eyes flared briefly, but she didn’t protest.
Graeme stepped forward until he crowded her against the far wall. Inwardly, his heart rate accelerated, and it took all his self-restraint not to shake her and demand to know what game she was playing. Outwardly, he kept his composure. He let his gaze slip down over her masked face and settle on her lips.
Her mouth had always distracted him. Slightly fuller on the top, her lips had a puffy, just-been-kissed fullness that made him visualize all the hedonistic things she could do with them besides talk, especially when she moistened them with the pink tip of her tongue.
He braced his hands on either side of her head, effectively trapping her, and inhaled her fragrance. Her own breathing was quick and shallow, and for one crazy second, Graeme thought he could actually smell her desire. It went straight to his head, making him ditch whatever good intentions he might have had.
“Sounds tempting,” he finally murmured, his breath close enough to stir the wisps of hair at her temple. “Although, I should warn you, it’s been a long time since I’ve met a woman who could fulfill my every desire.”
He was vaguely aware that his Scottish accent had become more pronounced, the way it always did when he become agitated—or aroused. Did she guess that he referred to her and their long-ago wedding night?
Then she touched him, and he ceased to think. As touches went, it wasn’t much, but as she trailed the tip of one slender finger down the length of his arm, he could have sworn the contact scorched him through the fabric of his sleeve.
She glanced at him through lowered lashes. “Now why does that sound like a challenge?”
Her finger drifted from his arm to his chest, where it wandered in a seemingly random path and followed the shallow groove between his pectorals. He closed his eyes briefly against the exquisite sensation. Lara’s sultry tone completed the erotic fantasy, weaving its way through his head. It would be so easy to do this, to lose himself in her and pretend the past five years had never happened, pretend that she was still his.
He thought he’d done a pretty good job of burying the memories of their brief relationship. After she’d left him, he’d gone through a dark period where he hadn’t exactly been celibate. He’d had his share of women. Beautiful women. They’d looked good on his arm, and they’d been more than happy to spend time with him, doing whatever it was he wanted them to do. But none of them had tempted or aroused him the way Lara did now, with her cherub lips and her soft, lush curves.
He swallowed hard.
“Is that what I am to you?” he asked softly. “A challenge?”
She smiled, a secretive smile that should have had him punching the elevator buttons in a desperate bid for escape. Instead, he dipped his head to catch her words.
“Oh, yes. You might just be my greatest challenge ever.” Then she stood on her toes and pressed that soft, moist mouth against the corner of his, and he was a goner.
Graeme groaned, knowing he was so screwed. He couldn’t do this…couldn’t let her pull him back into the sweet, forbidden pleasure of her arms, even for a single night.
But as her fingers slid to the back of his neck and urged his head down, he acknowledged ruefully that some things never changed. He still had no ability to resist her. He’d give her anything she wanted, and right now it seemed she wanted him.
4
LARA DIDN’T KNOW what had gotten into her, only that when Graeme didn’t recognize her, something inside her had loosened and then let go completely. She’d come to Las Vegas to exorcise her demons, she just hadn’t expected to do so in quite this way. But she understood now that the only way to let Graeme go was to get him out of her system once and for all.
She’d spent the past few years writing explicit stories about the character he played in Galaxy’s End, and her vivid descriptions of Kip’s sexual prowess had ranged from tender and considerate to fiercely demanding and masterful. But whatever the situation, he always left the heroine sated and weak with pleasure. Lara didn’t doubt that Graeme knew how to please a woman, but she doubted that he was as good as the fictional character he portrayed.She’d been living in a fantasy world of her own making for way too long. Tonight, she’d get a healthy dose of reality. The challenge would be to keep her head firmly in the present and not pretend that he was still in love with her.
This wasn’t about love.
If there had ever been any love involved, it had died the day her father had discovered them together in the little inn in Scotland and told Graeme the truth about how she had tricked him into marrying her.
From the moment he’d thrust his big body into the elevator with her, she’d realized that five years had done nothing to diminish her desire for him, and wearing the costume somehow fueled that need. The outfit made her feel sexy and bold in a way she’d never experienced before. Even on their wedding night, when she’d done things she’d only ever fantasized about, she hadn’t been completely uninhibited. She’d wanted to please Graeme, but her actions had been tempered to a certain degree by her own self-consciousness.
Disguised as Princess Leia, however, she felt both powerful and irresistible, as if she could do anything. Even seduce Graeme Hamilton. Maybe the alcohol she’d consumed had gone to her head, because she felt incredibly sexy, like the kind of women Graeme escorted to his world premieres, the kind of women he probably slept with.
She pushed down the niggling sense of hurt that he didn’t recognize her, reminding herself that five years had passed since he’d last seen her. She’d changed during that time. Besides, the gold mask concealed most of her face, and he probably hadn’t given her more than a passing thought in recent years, if he’d thought of her at all. She should be grateful for the disguise because if he realized just who she was, he’d want nothing to do with her.
Now here she was, stopped in an elevator with the sexiest man alive, contemplating things that had nothing to do with getting his autograph. The entire scenario might have come directly from one of her own erotic stories. His heated words coursed through her like a challenge…it’s been a long time since I’ve met a woman who could fulfill my every desire.
For tonight at least, Lara intended to fulfill every one of his desires, and a few of her own, too.
His skin was hot beneath her fingers as she urged his head down, and she thought he gave a small groan as she brushed her lips across his. For just an instant he resisted, his body stiff and unresponsive against hers, before he dragged in a shuddering breath and slanted his mouth hard across Lara’s.
The heat of his kiss took her breath away. She hadn’t forgotten the potency of Graeme’s kisses, but her reaction to them was almost a physical pain. Every cell in her body leaped at his touch and strained forward, yearning for more. Her blood warmed and then slid through her heated veins until her entire body simmered.
Reaching up, he captured her hands in his and then pinned them against the wall behind her head, using the weight of his body to hold her in place. His lips were hot and hungry as they moved over hers, coaxing and enticing a response. Lara whimpered softly and her lips parted of their own volition. Graeme’s tongue teased her, stroking and exploring the recesses of her mouth until her head spun. A warm, sweet fullness slowly blossomed in her belly, spreading outward until her breasts tingled and ached for his touch, and her legs felt they would no longer support her.
She was barely aware when he released her hands and slid his down the bare skin of her back, his fingers smoothing along her spine until he reached the top edge of the bikini bottom. Her own hands moved to his shoulders as he pulled her more fully against him, the muscles in his arms bunching under her fingers.
He groaned softly against her mouth and his lips changed, became more urgent, possessing her completely as his hand spread downward over the curve of he
r hip and captured one buttock, pressing her intimately against his body so that she was suddenly, vividly aware of the rigid length of his arousal pressing against her belly.
The knowledge that she could still arouse him made her senses soar. She wouldn’t think about the fact that he didn’t know who she was and that he was only responding to her physically, that it was just sex. Right now, sex with Graeme Hamilton sounded perfect. She wouldn’t think about tomorrow, and she definitely wouldn’t think about Christopher.
As kind and sweet as Christopher was, he’d never made her want to peel her clothes off and feel the hot glide of his skin against hers. They’d come close to having sex on a couple of different occasions, but she’d backed off at the last minute, though she’d been unable to explain why.
Now she understood.
Because as much as she liked Christopher, he’d never made her feel that she might spontaneously combust if she couldn’t have him inside her, stroking her to a frenzied pitch while he whispered heated words against her flesh.
Dragging her mouth from Graeme’s, she trailed her lips across his skin to his ear, swirling her tongue around the edge before taking his lobe between her teeth and biting gently, gratified when she heard his hissing intake of breath.
“Let’s go to my room,” she whispered, punctuating her words with a soft bite to his jaw, before soothing the area with her tongue. “I can’t wait much longer.”
“My room is closer,” he rasped, and withdrew a card from his back pocket.
Still holding her firmly against him, he reached out and slid the key card into a slot above the buttons, and then punched the fortieth floor. The elevator glided briefly upward and stopped. Graeme pulled her into a small lobby that was lavishly decorated with marble and crystal, and Lara saw a security guard at the far end, near a second elevator. She knew without having to be told that this must be the penthouse suite, the luxurious rooms reserved only for the very important or the very wealthy.
“Good evening, Mr. Hamilton,” the guard greeted them. His face was carefully impassive, but Lara could hear the surprise in his voice. “I wasn’t expecting you to come up on the service elevator.”
“Yes, well, things got a little out of hand at the masquerade ball,” he said tersely, leading Lara toward a hotel-room door. “I’m not expecting any visitors tonight, so…” He let his voice trail off meaningfully, and the security guard inclined his head.
“I understand. Nobody will disturb you. Have a good evening, Mr. Hamilton.”
“Thanks.” At that moment, Graeme’s cell phone buzzed at his hip, discordant and insistent. Graeme paused outside the door to his suite and with a meaningful look at Lara, opened the phone. Even from where she stood, Lara could hear the loud, strident voice on the other end, demanding to know where Graeme was, and telling him that he needed to come back down to the ballroom. Graeme closed his eyes briefly and a flicker of annoyance crossed his face.
“Forget it, Tony,” he finally bit out. “I’m not coming back down there. I don’t care what you tell them, but I’m done for the night.” Without waiting for a reply, he snapped his cell phone closed and then turned the power off.
“My publicist,” he muttered, in way of explanation. “I’m sorry for the interruption.”
His tone was so rueful that Lara felt a pang of sympathy for him. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like, to have your schedule dictated by the demands of a greedy public.
Graeme opened the door and pushed Lara through before closing it firmly behind them. She had a brief impression of an elegant, spacious apartment with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Las Vegas strip, before Graeme pushed her up against the wall and completely enfolded her in his arms. His hands were everywhere, sliding over her bare skin, skimming over her hips and cupping and kneading her buttocks beneath the metal of the bikini bottom.
“Christ,” he muttered, and he buried his face in her neck, pressing his lips against her throat. “You’re so beautiful. I have to see all of you.”
As if to prove his point, he hooked his thumbs inside the top of her bikini and tugged it downward, until her breasts popped free. For a moment, he just looked, and Lara was too enthralled by the expression in his eyes to feel shocked or self-conscious at the unexpected exposure. Then there was no more room for thought as he cupped her breasts almost reverently, his big hands closing over them, rubbing the nipples with his thumbs until they stood out, stiff and rosy.
“I need to taste you,” he muttered, and bent his head to lave one distended tip with his tongue.
If not for the fact that her body was pressed between Graeme’s hard warmth and the wall, Lara might have collapsed from the sheer pleasure that knifed through her. The sight of Graeme’s dark head against her naked breasts was like an erotic elixir, and she couldn’t stop her hands from burying themselves in his hair, feeling the heat from his scalp warm her fingers as she laced them through the short strands.
He was cupping her breasts, lifting them and kneading them as he suckled her. His mouth was hot and wet, and when he rolled one nipple gently between his teeth, lust speared through Lara’s midsection and swamped her with moisture.
Somewhere in the functioning part of her brain, she was aware of the heated urgency in Graeme’s lovemaking, and the rawness of it both shocked and thrilled her. Five years ago, he’d been the perfect lover, intent only upon her pleasure even if it meant tamping down his own desire. Only after she’d assured him she wasn’t as fragile as he believed had he dropped some of his self-restraint and loved her with a potent force that had stolen her breath.
Right now, he exhibited all of the force and none of the restraint as he lavished attention on her breasts. When he finally lifted his head, it was to capture her lips in a kiss that dragged her very soul from her depths, plundering her mouth as his hands traveled over her body, stroking and caressing her bare skin.
With supreme effort, Lara twisted her face away. Her heart slammed in her chest. Her head felt fuzzy, as if she’d had too much to drink, and she had the distinct sensation that if it weren’t for the weight of Graeme’s body holding her firmly against the wall, she’d float away.
“Wait,” she finally gasped, pushing at his wide shoulders until he moved fractionally away from her, although his hands still roamed across the bare skin of her back. “This is supposed to be about your pleasure—about me pleasuring you.”
“Oh, you do, love,” he rumbled softly. “You do.”
Lara laughed unsteadily. “I’m glad you approve, but I really want to do this my way.”
Graeme blew out a hard breath and bent his head to hers. “If you really want to pleasure me, you’ll take this damned mask off and let me see your face properly.”
Panic churned through Lara’s stomach as her brain worked furiously to come up with a plausible argument for keeping the mask in place. “No, I don’t think I will,” she finally said, but softened her words with a soft sweep of her mouth over his. “For tonight, the mask stays on. I think it adds a bit of…mystery, don’t you? Trust me, you won’t mind a bit.”
There was a momentary silence, and then he shrugged. “Okay, fine. Right now, you can do whatever the hell you want and you won’t hear a whisper of complaint from me.”
“That’s what I hoped you’d say,” Lara replied, distracted by how his eyes glittered with desire, more green now than blue. “I have a few things in mind that I’m pretty sure you won’t complain about.”
Lara’s fingers went to the buttons of his black shirt, and popped the first one from its hole.
“First,” she murmured, hoping he didn’t see the faint tremor in her hands as she worked her way to the second button and released it, “I’m going to unbutton your shirt and kiss every inch of skin that I see.”
To prove her words, she separated the fabric and dropped a moist kiss to the bronzed skin she exposed, touching him with the tip of her tongue. He didn’t make a sound, just watched her face with an expression of absorption.<
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She moved to the third button, and then the fourth, aware her pulse had begun to accelerate as her fingers descended toward his belt. With each button that she freed, she pushed the shirt away and pressed her lips and tongue against his flesh, following the light furring of chest hair that narrowed as it reached his navel, and then disappeared beneath the waistband of his trousers.
Despite the fact she wore next to nothing, she was hot. Feverish. By the time she popped the last button free, she was crouching in front of him. He loomed over her, with his hands braced on the wall above her, staring intently down at her. Her position was one of feminine supplication, not at all unlike a slave girl pleasuring her master. Her bare breasts, pushed upward by the bunched fabric of the bikini top, made her feel wanton, especially when his gaze devoured her.
Swallowing hard, Lara tugged his shirttails free and leaned forward to press her mouth against his stomach, just below his navel. His muscles contracted at the intimate contact. Emboldened, Lara touched her tongue lightly to the spot, and then traced a circle around his belly button. He gave a soft murmur of encouragement, and she hooked her fingers into his belt loops as she worked her way back up his torso.
His stomach was layered in muscle. Lara ran her tongue along the shallow groove that bisected his chest, only vaguely aware that his breathing seemed labored. When she reached his pectorals, she glanced up at him. His eyes were slumberous now, watching her with a seductive intensity that caused her body temperature to rise and liquid heat to pool at her center.
Tentatively, half expecting him to protest, Lara skated her lips over his heated flesh and flicked at the small nub of one nipple with her tongue. He made a guttural sound in his throat and Lara lapped the small bud before taking it into her mouth the way he had done with her just minutes before. He stiffened, but made no move to pull away.
With her tongue still tormenting him, she pushed impatiently at the fabric of his shirt. “Take this off,” she breathed against his skin. “I want to see you.”
