The last of the guests departed shortly thereafter, leaving behind a charged, electric silence. The quartet still played softly in the background, and the look in the eyes that rested on her made every cell in her body tingle.
‘Joao—’
‘Dance with me,’ he demanded abruptly.
‘I... What?’
He pushed his chair back, rose and held out his hand. ‘We have this place to ourselves till midnight. It’ll be a shame to let it go to waste, no?’
Saffie swallowed the lump in her throat. The force of the need driving through her made her limbs weak, her heart hammer with giddy exhilaration at the thought of being held within those strong arms, enveloped in that stunning magnificence that was Joao Oliviera.
‘I’m waiting, Saffie,’ he murmured, supremely seductive.
She took a breath. And gave into the weakness.
It was for one magical night, a moment in time.
She slid her hand into his, let him tug her up, draw her to his powerful body.
One large hand splayed on her back, the other catching her hand in his and laying their entwined fingers against his broad shoulder.
As if conjured up by the same magic swirling around them, the violinist reappeared and started a slow, seductive tune, one that required only a simple swaying of bodies across red-carpeted asphalt.
The enthralling scent of him.
The seductive warmth of his body.
The intoxicating power he exuded so effortlessly.
The combination was almost too much to bear.
So when, after they’d swayed in a full circle, his lips brushed over her temples, Saffie closed her eyes, sighed, and surrendered to the hypnosis. And when he gathered her closer, until her breasts tingled and her nipples peaked against his chest, all she could do was give a low moan and tuck her face into the crook of his shoulder, and dream for a moment that she belonged.
That she wasn’t alone in the world with only the promise of the babies growing inside her to give her hope.
She wasn’t sure how long they danced, only that she never wanted the moment to end. Never wanted to face the reality that included admitting that she was experiencing more than a surge of pregnancy hormones. That she was straying, or probably had already strayed, into the dangerous territory of unprofessional, unacceptable feelings for Joao Oliviera.
Her boss.
A warning tingle of self-preservation attempted to rise.
Another brush of Joao’s mouth down the side of her neck dissolved it.
‘I want you, Saffie.’ The statement was raw, pulsing with savage hunger that drew a decadent shudder through her and drained every last ounce of resistance she’d thought to summon. ‘Just for tonight, I want you to be mine.’
One night only.
Dared she do it?
Yes, came her heart’s fierce response.
Still she hesitated, waiting for a sign that never came, while the desperate clamouring in her heart built and built, until she could do nothing but raise her head, meet his heated gaze full on.
‘Then have me,’ she said simply.
His eyes turned almost black, only a tiny dark gold around his iris blazing down at her.
Without speaking he gripped her hand in his and walked her down the carpet to where the Rolls waited. The driver, spotting them approach, opened and held the back door.