The Unlikely Mistress (London's Most Eligible Playboys #01) Page 4

  Sabrina wondered why she didn’t feel shy. Or embarrassed. Why being with Guy in an atmosphere so tense with expectation seemed to feel so right. Something she needed more than anything in the world. She put her knife and fork down with a shaky hand and saw that Guy had mirrored her movements.

  ‘Shall I call for the bill?’ he queried.

  She forced herself to try and respond normally, even though she knew what he meant by his question. ‘Don’t you want dessert? Or coffee?’

  His mouth curved. He heard the delicious thunder of the inevitable. ‘I thought we could try somewhere else for coffee.’

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed with nervous excitement, because she knew exactly what he meant—and wouldn’t a well-brought up girl be frightened by that? Or outraged? ‘I guess we could.’

  In a daze she allowed him to drape the wrap around her shoulders, feeling the negligent brush of his fingertips against her bare flesh as he did so, and she felt the breath catch in her throat like dust.

  He took her by the hand and led her outside into the starry night, looking down at her with soft, silver light gleaming from his eyes.

  ‘You’re shivering,’ he observed quietly, tracing a thoughtful fingertip down the slim, pale column of her neck and seeing her tremble even more. ‘Again.’

  ‘Y-yes.’

  He took his jacket off and draped it around her shoulders; the broad cut of it almost swamped her slender frame. ‘Here, take this…’

  ‘You’ll get cold yourself,’ she objected.

  ‘I don’t think there’s any danger of that,’ he said softly, and, sliding his arms around her waist, he bent his head to kiss her.

  Her heart was blazing as her mouth parted to meet the first sweet touch of his lips. She ignored the half-hearted voice of her conscience telling her to stop this, because who could have stopped this?

  He was breathing life into her, bringing warmth flooding back into her veins. As though she had been some cold, bloodless statue and now…now…

  ‘Oh, Guy,’ she whispered, in a distracted plea. ‘Guy.’ But the words were lost against the honeyed softness of his mouth.

  Desire shafted through him like an arrow. ‘Oh, God, yes, Sabrina,’ he ground out, on a sultry note of hunger. ‘Yes, and yes, and yes.’ He brought her closer into his body, up to the cradle of his hips, where the hard, lean power of him was unmistakable. And now it was Guy’s turn to make a harsh little sound. He broke the kiss off with a supreme effort, tearing his mouth away to look down with frustrated perplexity into her disappointed eyes.

  ‘This is all threatening to get out of hand,’ he groaned, sucking in a shuddering breath which scorched the lining of his lungs. ‘I haven’t engaged in such a public display of passion for a long time.’ He had always liked beds—clean sheets and clinical comfort—so why was he having to swallow down the primitive urge to lead her to the nearest narrow, dark alleyway, pin her up against some ancient wall and do it to her right there…?

  She felt no fear, and no shame. Only an overwhelming need to be near him. She trickled a questing fingertip down the proud, hard lines of his face. ‘M-me neither.’

  He forced himself to bite out the question, even though it was the most difficult thing he had ever had to say. ‘Do you want me to take you back to your hotel, or would you like to…?’ The word trailed off temptingly.

  ‘To what?’ she asked softly.

  ‘To come back with me? We could have that dessert. Coffee. What do you think? Would you like that, princess?’

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered, knowing that he didn’t want coffee any more than she did.

  He took her hand and led her through the darkened streets. She felt dizzy with the sense of his proximity but she was so disorientated that he could have been leading her to the ends of the earth for all she knew. Or cared.

  It wasn’t until they found themselves back in the grand elegance of his suite, with the hazy gleam of the lamps falling like moonlight on her flushed cheeks, that something of the enormity of what she was about to embark on began to seep into Sabrina’s consciousness. She ought to stop this, she told herself, and stop it right now.

  Yet the longer she stared into the mesmerising glitter of those dark-lashed eyes, the harder it was to listen to reason. Because reason was a weak component in the presence of raw need.

  And Michael had taught her that nothing was certain. His death had brought the frailty of life crashing home in a way that nothing else could have done. Why, she could walk out of this room right now and something could happen to ensure that she would never see Guy Masters again. And never know the warmth of his embrace, or taste the luxury of his kiss.

  She turned her face up to his, but her half-felt protest became a moan of surrender as he drove his mouth down on hers with a hungry kiss which splintered her senses.

  He reached out to remove the clip from her hair, murmured his warm pleasure as it fell in a red-blonde gleam around her shoulders. ‘See how your hair glows like fire against your skin. And how your eyes sparkle like pure, clear aquamarines.’

  She had never been seduced by words before, had never known their sweet, wanton power. ‘G-Guy,’ she said shakily.

  His eyes gleamed like silver and onyx. ‘I want to see you, to see your flesh glow in the moonlight. I want to undress you.’ He moved his hand distractedly to find the zip of her dress, before sliding it down with unsteady fingers, kissing her neck as the silky material parted for him.

  She gasped as she felt the touch of his fingers against her burning skin and the weight of his hands as they moved down to possessively cup the curve of her bottom. Her head fell helplessly against his shoulder as she felt her dress begin to slide down over her thighs.

  ‘God, princess, you’re driving me crazy,’ he ground out on a shudder as the dress pooled with a silken whisper at her feet. He lifted his head to gaze at her, taken aback by the sight of her frivolous underwear.

  It was the last thing he had been expecting—she looked like a centrefold. A pure white lace bra through which her nipples peaked rosy and hard, and a matching wisp of a G-string through which he could distinctly see the red-gold blur of hair. And then there was the outrageous little suspender belt, onto which were clipped the sheerest stockings he had ever seen.

  He very nearly lost control. What had happened to the plain cotton functional garments she’d been wearing the other day? The ones which he’d sent to the laundry whilst thinking that she was obviously of the gym-mistress persuasion?

  He gazed at the slender curves of her body, his hand unsteady as it followed the path of his eyes. ‘You wore these for me?’ he questioned shakily, his fingers splaying over the barely perceptible curve of her belly.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Sweet, sweet torment. You look…wonderful.’ He swallowed. ‘Quite the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen.’

  She found herself blushing under that passion-glazed scrutiny. The underwear had been bought as part of her trousseau, for the honeymoon she’d been fated never to have.

  Her worried mother had persuaded her to pack them. ‘Good underwear always makes a woman feel better about herself,’ she’d urged her. ‘And it seems such a pity to waste such beautiful lingerie.’

  Not wanting a row, Sabrina had weakly agreed to take them and had stuffed them into the bottom of her suitcase, knowing that she would never have the heart to wear them. And yet some instinct had urged her to slide them onto her scented and freshly bathed body before dressing to meet Guy this evening…Had she secretly been imagining that shining look of delight as he looked at her?

  He dipped his head and dropped a soft kiss on her mouth. ‘Get into bed,’ he ordered unsteadily, ‘while I undress.’

  She slid between the linen sheets immediately, thankful that he wasn’t expecting her to undress him. Why, her hands were shaking even more than his.

  She watched as he slowly began to unbutton his silk shirt, and in a reflex action her fingers slid up to clutch at her throat, their tips co
lliding with the thin gold chain from which hung a ring.

  Her engagement ring!

  Guy had bent to remove one of his shoes, and Sabrina took the opportunity to pull the sheet right up to her chin and to unclip the chain without him seeing. She was about to place it unobtrusively on the floor beside her when he glanced up to see her shrouded in the sheet, with only her face and bright hair showing, and he gave a lazy smile.

  Maybe he was more old-fashioned than he gave himself credit for—because it pleased him to see that she was a little shy. ‘You look sweet,’ he murmured. ‘Very, very sweet.’

  ‘D-do I?’ Whereas he looked the antithesis of sweet. He looked strong and dark and very, very aroused. Maybe she should have been frightened by his hard, masculine body, but she was in too deep now. Too enthralled by him—too chained by the honeyed flutterings of desire.

  His shirt fluttered to the ground and he left it where it lay with arrogant disregard. But when he turned his attention to the belt that was holding up his trousers, Sabrina surreptitiously allowed the chain to slither like a slim gold snake onto the carpet.

  He kicked his trousers off and Sabrina hastily shut her eyes, only to open them to find him looking down at her, a kind of bemused tenderness on his face.

  ‘You are shy,’ he observed softly.

  ‘A little,’ she answered truthfully.

  ‘I like it.’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘Mmm. But, then, I think I like everything about you. Your golden hair spread all over my pillow. Your skin as white as milk.’ Wearing only a pair of dark, silken boxer shorts, he lifted back the sheet and climbed into bed beside her. ‘Come here,’ he said softly, pulling her into the warm cradle of his arms.

  She felt the shock of sensation as they tangled their limbs, his bare, warm flesh pressing against hers, and she gasped with a heightened sense of recognition.

  He dipped his mouth to brush against a tiny, puckered nipple. ‘I find myself in the curious position of not knowing where to begin,’ he murmured. ‘Like a starving man being presented with the most fantastic banquet and being completely spoilt for choice.’

  ‘Guy,’ she stumbled helplessly, her eyes huge and dark. ‘So, do I kiss you?’ he mused. ‘Yes, I think so.’ His lips brushed lightly over hers, there and gone in an instant, leaving her mouth moistly open and expectant. ‘Or touch you here?’ A feather-light flicker of finger to nipple which made her shiver. ‘Yes, you like that, don’t you, my sweet torment?’

  ‘Y-yes,’ she gasped.

  ‘Or here?’ The tantalising graze of that same finger over the moist, warm centre of her panties and Sabrina gasped aloud. ‘You like that, too, don’t you?’

  He looked down, losing himself in the black distraction of her eyes, and felt himself grow so hard that he thought he actually might explode. He struggled to rein in his feelings and then kissed the tip of her nose.

  ‘On second thoughts,’ he said thickly, ‘we’ve got all night.’

  Guy awoke to the clear tinge of early morning. He narrowed his eyes in the direction of the unshuttered windows to see the first rose-gold shaft of the new sun. The very early morning.

  He didn’t stir. By his side, Sabrina lay sleeping, her arms spread out in careless abandon across the rumpled bed. He had no wish to wake her—and not just because they’d fallen into a passion-sated slumber only a couple of hours back. No, he needed a little time to come to terms with what had just happened.

  Well, he knew exactly what had happened. He felt his mouth dry. They had spent a whole night indulging every single sexual fantasy he’d ever had—and a few more besides. As if there were infinite variations and dimensions to the act of making love that he had never discovered before.

  As if the world were about to end and they had greedily needed to discover every sensual pleasure known to man. Or woman.

  He swallowed, his heart beginning a rapid drumming at the slow, inevitable stir of arousal. No, if he woke her now it would happen all over again—and, much as he wanted it to happen, he also needed to think.

  Because, if he were being brutally honest, he’d behaved in a way that he’d never imagined he could. Had just spent the night making love to a stranger. To a woman who was beautiful, intelligent and engaging—but a stranger nonetheless.

  He gazed again at the sky, which was now being pierced by a soft apricot light, and his mouth hardened. He was old enough and experienced enough to know that what had happened between them last night was rare. And yet he’d been reckless, out of control. He’d enjoyed it, yes, but that didn’t mean he approved of his actions.

  ‘Mmm!’ Beneath the sheet, Sabrina stretched her body sleepily.

  Guy felt his heart rate increase as he looked down at the perfect outline of her slender body and felt the stirrings of desire spring into full and vibrant life. ‘And “mmm” to you, too,’ he said softly.

  Sabrina opened her eyes and felt impaled by that lancing glance of steel-grey as seductive memories of the night danced tantalisingly through her mind. But reality brought with it disbelief. She had given herself to him, no holds barred. So now what? ‘What time is it?’ she said uncertainly.

  ‘Early.’ He leaned over her, his lean, hair-roughened torso just crying out to be touched. ‘Is that all you’ve got to say for yourself?’ he teased.

  Her doubts fled with the warm reality of his proximity. ‘That depends.’ Sabrina gave in to temptation and reached one finger up to touch a hard, flat nipple. He groaned, dipping his head to kiss her while one hand trailed down over her flat belly, to where she was hot and moist and ready.

  He raised his eyebrows mockingly as he moved to lie over her, dropping tiny kisses on the flutter of her eyelashes and her lips. ‘Do you always wake up so pleasingly compliant in the morning?’ he murmured, reaching down the side of the bed to open another packet of contraceptives. His fingers came into contact with something hard and metallic and he impatiently shoved it aside until he found what he was looking for.

  She could feel the hard tip of him nudging against her and her instant warm, sweet response. Last night he had not only brought her back to life, he’d made her feel his equal. There was nothing she could have done or said that would have shocked him, nor he her.

  Sabrina was not about to start making odious comparisons, but she’d never known that lovemaking could be so free or so uninhibited. That it could have so many faces, and so many forms.

  With a newly learnt and slumberously provocative pout, she took the condom from him.

  ‘Shall I deal with this for you?’ she whispered.

  He gave a low laugh of delight, but the laugh was tinged with a certain amount of apprehension. Right then she could do what she liked with him, and he suspected that he would just lie there like a puppy and grin with pleasure. What the hell had happened to his habitual dominance? His need to orchestrate?

  ‘Deal away, princess,’ he drawled.

  She pushed him to lie back against the pillow, and knelt over him, her long, bare thighs straddling him. ‘Quite appropriate, really,’ she said breathily, as she slowly inched the sheath down over the hard, silken length of him. ‘As you’re a dealer.’

  ‘Oh, God,’ he moaned. ‘God! Why are you taking so long?’

  Her fingernails lightly teased at the delicate protection. ‘But it’s all your fault, Guy—you shouldn’t be so long,’ she teased.

  He let her torment him until the condom was firmly in place and then he swiftly lifted her up and laid her on her back. Again he moved above her, but this time there was an inexplicable mixture of emotions on his face, his eyes so dark that Sabrina didn’t have a clue what was going on inside that head of his.

  ‘You know,’ he mused, and now it was his turn to tease her, the full tip of him nudging against her, ‘I always thought that girls who worked in bookshops would be so timid. So demure.’

  ‘And aren’t I?’

  He smiled, but there was an odd edge to the smile. ‘No, you’re not,’ he groaned. ‘
You’re a very bad girl indeed and you leave me no alternative than to do this to you…’

  He thrust into her with such power that stars exploded behind her eyes, and he’d barely moved inside her before she could feel the first slow glimmerings of release. Drowning in honeyed sweetness, she turned her head distractedly from side to side on the pillow as wave upon wave of pure sensation left her shuddering and helpless in their wake.

  Guy tried to make it last, but he was lost. This must be some kind of record, he thought as he felt the first sweet tug of his own release.

  It was one of the best orgasms of his life, but it left him feeling curiously empty, as though she had taken something from him he had not intended to give. He slowly withdrew from her to find her watching him with dazed disbelief, and his smile was wry as he kissed her.

  ‘Go to sleep now,’ he urged. ‘Go to sleep.’

  And only when her breathing became steady did he slip silently from between the sheets.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  WHEN Sabrina opened her eyes again, the space on the bed beside her was empty. She gazed around the room, listening out for the sounds of activity in the bathroom, but there was only silence.

  She sat up in bed and yawned, noticing that Guy’s clothes were gone. She ran her fingers back through her tousled hair and wondered where he was. Rubbing her eyes, she picked up her watch. Ten past seven. Very early. So where could he be?

  She clambered out of bed and went into the bathroom, where she found most things she needed, including a courtesy toothbrush, still wrapped in its Cellophane paper.

  She wandered back into the bedroom just as the phone started ringing, and she picked it up with a smile on her face.

  ‘Guy?’ she said, thinking how pampered she sounded.

  But it wasn’t Guy. The voice was female—a husky voice which was edged with suspicion.