Return of the Moralis Wife

His hand slid down the soft hollow of her throat and continued its downward journey, brushing the rosy peak of one breast and then with elegant fingers manipulating the tip to pouting hardness.

‘Rather like this,’ he mocked softly, his fingers playfully walking across to her other breast and delivering the same treatment. ‘I appreciate the more experienced Selina, and that innocent blush is quite a clever trick.’

‘No!’ She was protesting against his assumption and the sensual intent she saw in his dark eyes even as her pulse rate leapt at his wandering hands. ‘I didn’t know it was you. I was half asleep,’ she said without thinking—and knew as soon as the words left her mouth she had said the wrong thing. ‘I mean …’

‘Too much information, Selina,’ he mocked, his lips curving in a sardonic smile as his hand reached up to tangle in her hair, jerking her head towards him. His face was inches from her own. ‘This time you will know it is me.’ He spoke with a deadly calm that was belied by the barely leashed anger in his dark eyes.

‘You don’t understand—’ she said, but his mouth slammed into hers, kissing her with a domineering savage passion that—humiliatingly—she could not help responding to with an aching need. Then somehow she was on her back and Rion was straddling her, propped up on his strong forearms either side of her body, studying her as if she was some fly under a microscope.

‘Your sex education, Selina, while having improved in the physical sense is sadly lacking in etiquette,’ he grated. ‘First lesson: never tell your partner you were thinking of someone else during sex.’

Selina, her heart racing, heard the inimical anger in his tone, saw his tight mouth and the dull flush on his high cheekbones, and realised too late what she had invited with her careless remark. Rion was hanging on to his fabled control by a thread.

‘I never …’ She choked incoherently as scorching dark eyes raked over her face, her upturned breasts. Lowering his head, he caught a throbbing peak lightly between his teeth to lash the swelling tip with his tongue. The breath whooshed from her lungs in a gasping groan, warmth pooled between her thighs, and involuntarily her slender hands reached for him.

What followed was a master class.

Selina had had no idea the human body was capable of such unfettered passion … no idea she was capable of behaving like an untamed being, willing to follow Rion’s inventive eroticism down pathways she had never dreamt of—until she thought she might pass out from the force of the incredibly emotional storm raging between them.

With his great body over hers, the shuddering tremors finally stopped and Selina opened her eyes, trying to regain control of her erratic breathing and pounding heart. Slowly Rion withdrew and rolled off her. He slipped an arm around her shoulders, his other hand resting across her stomach.

She blushed as she met his dark enigmatic gaze, stunned by what he had done—what she had allowed him to do. She had actually encouraged his sexual manipulation of her body and every one of her senses until that final out-of-this-world orgasm.

‘I never …’ She couldn’t continue, more confused with herself than Rion.

He kissed her damp forehead and smiled a slow, completely masculine grin. ‘I rather gathered that—and yet you are an incredibly sensual woman. Admit it, you enjoyed every second. I made sure you did. Maybe because you dented my masculine ego and I wanted to prove a point. I was a little overenthusiastic, but no woman sharing my bed ever thinks of another man.’

Such conceit! Selina marveled. But she could well believe it. Rion was an incredible lover. But then he had a lot of practice … She was not his first lover and she certainly would not be his last. Whereas he was her first and only, and she had a growing suspicion he might well be her last. She could not imagine doing with any other man what she had done with Rion. They had joined in the most intimate way possible. They should have been as close as it was possible for two people to be. But sadly Selina realised, with a sense of something precious lost, that Rion was right again. Sex was just sex … two bodies connecting but the mind and heart miles apart.

She glanced down. His bronzed body was perfectly formed, like the Greek god she had once thought him. He was no longer a god in her eyes but a man like any other, with human frailties … Handsome, wealthy and single he could take his pick of women—and frequently did, she had no doubt. Rion had a high libido and enjoyed sex, but he didn’t believe in monogamy. He was a chauvinist, and women let him get away with it for the pleasure of his company. And who could blame them? There were much worse vices she knew …

She had been surprised and, being honest, secretly a little pleased that he had actually confessed to having his ego dented by her. And now, held against him, sated with sex, she could not argue with his statement. She looked up at his face, a dry smile curving her swollen lips. ‘You are so arrogant, Rion, and as it happens I wasn’t thinking of another man last night

. I was thinking of you. I was half asleep and thought I was still married,’ she said. She saw his smug smile and added, ‘But thankfully I woke up from that nightmare …’

The hand on her stomach moved to take her chin between thumb and forefinger, his dark eyes capturing hers. ‘You were doing great until the end, Selina. I’ll make you pay for that later,’ he forewarned her, a slight smile quirking the edges of his mouth. ‘Or maybe not,’ he amended. ‘We could just agree to ignore the past and enjoy the next couple of weeks for what they are—a holiday between two friends.’

Selina’s eyes widened. Rion a friend? That would be a first …

‘Don’t look so shocked.’ He chuckled. ‘I do have friends. Dimitri and Captain Ted have been personal friends of mine for years, and I also keep a friendly relationship with my crew. I do not want them to see us at loggerheads. I run a cheerful ship, and I want it to stay that way. Plus there is no denying sex between us is fantastic.’

She wanted to deny him but it would be a lie, she acknowledged. So much for lying back and thinking of England. Rion looked so attractive with his black hair dishevelled and his handsome face lit with amusement. She felt her heart flutter in her breast. She still wanted him, and this might be the only sex she would ever get …

She had been like a puppy dog lapping up any sign of affection from its master during their brief marriage. But now she worked with captains of industry, billionaires. Some she liked better than others, but she had no problem maintaining a friendly relationship with all of them. A lot of her clients employed her over and over again. Would it be so impossible to develop a friendly relationship with Rion? It would make the next two weeks much easier. She could look on it as a job—which in a way it was … He was paying for it, she reminded herself bluntly.

Stuck on a yacht in the middle of the Mediterranean, she didn’t have much of a choice anyway. She could try to resist him but, humiliating as it was to admit, she had spectacularly failed so far. Or she could do as he suggested and try to accept him as a ‘friend with benefits.’ She believed that was the popular term.

‘Yes, why not?’ she said just as her stomach gave an almighty rumble.

Rion laughed. ‘Great.’ He leapt off the bed and pulled on his shorts. ‘Come on, Selina, get up,’ he commanded. ‘You can take that shower and I’ll order the food you so obviously need.’ And, still chuckling, he turned to walk out of the door.

Without thinking she flung a pillow at him and missed—and heard his laughter as the door swung closed behind him. She rolled off the bed and walked into the en-suite bathroom, hardly glancing at the luxury fittings.

Naked, she stepped into the huge shower cubicle and turned on what she hoped was the tap—only to have jets of water hit her from all sides. She gulped and blindly reached for the door. She stepped back out, wiping her hair from her eyes. She looked around and spotted the bathing accoutrements lined up above a vanity basin. She glanced at the bottles and jars—all masculine. So she would smell like Rion. But then she did already, she thought, and picked up a bottle of shampoo and padded back to the shower stall. She eyed the controls, worked out how to turn on only the overhead sprays, and warily stepped back inside.

Tipping a dollop of shampoo into her hands, she quickly washed her hair, and then liberally anointed her body with shower gel. Finally she tilted back her head, closed her eyes and let the powerful spray rinse her hair and her body, trying to rid herself of the tension the pressure of the past few days had caused.

She raised her hands and ran her fingers through her hair, smoothing the wet strands from her face and then lifting her arms high above her head. She linked her fingers and stretched on tiptoe, easing the ache in muscles she had never known she had …