Exotic Nights

She slid herself down even slower.

His head fell back on the bed and the sound of his groan almost made her come. She bit her lip, the tiny pain keeping her sanity for her, stopping her from falling into an almost unconscious state of bliss. She wanted to remember this look of his forever. She wanted to savour the moment.

Heavy lidded, he looked at her body and then back to her face. She knew that right now he was incapable of speech.

She’d never felt more beautiful. More admired. More wanted. And she felt the power surge into her. She moved, slowly, tilting her head so her hair fell, twisting her hips so she rode him, watching him imprisoned by passion beneath her.

But then her attempt to keep in control failed and animal instinct took over. She moved, keeping the feel of him so delicious, and the tension drove her, making her work harder, faster until she suddenly stopped, locked into sensation. He took over, gripping her hips, moving only that little bit more to knock them both over the edge, to those timeless moments of brilliant darkness where muscles jerked and pleasure pulsed through every part of her.

His arms held her close. With supreme effort she lifted her head and looked at him—saw the lazy mix of satisfaction and humour, and madly her desire lurched into life again. She couldn’t stop herself seeking his kiss. And with a sinking heart she knew the only person she’d succeeded in trapping was herself.

CHAPTER TEN

THE next day Bella left Owen’s arms again, using all her will power. ‘I have a party on this afternoon. I have to get ready.’

She showered quickly, towel-dried her hair and then slipped into her underwear. She plugged in her hair curler.

‘A fairy always needs her wand.’ She grinned at Owen, who was still lying in bed but watching through the open doorway. She took a length of her hair and wound it round the rod. A few seconds later she released it and there was a bouncy curl. She did a few more, and then tied long sparkly ribbons into it.

‘You really go the whole hog.’ He’d rolled to his side, rested his head on his hand and was watching her every move.

She tilted her head, frowning at her reflection. ‘I’m in character. I have to look the part, fulfil the fantasy for the child.’

‘The perfect party princess.’

‘Oh, no,’ she corrected. ‘I’m not the princess. The princess is the little girl whose birthday it is. I’m the fairy godmother, there to grant the wishes.’

She started work on her face. ‘That’s why I’m not in pink—that’s their colour. I’m in silver and blue. I have pink wings for the girls, pink wands, tiaras. They get a unicorn tattoo and some glitter gel and then become part of the fairy princess network. I’m just there to help them tap into their imaginations.’ She paused. ‘Most of them don’t even need me really.’ Smoothing the glitter down her cheekbone, she paused. ‘But there’s always one. The shy one, the self-conscious one, the one who feels like she doesn’t fit in.’

‘So how do you get her to fit in?’

‘That’s always the challenge.’ She smiled. ‘Take it easy, gently. It can be hard when, for the others, you need to be effervescent. But I want to try to do it because I just know that inside she really wants to be up there and part of it all.’

‘How do you know?’

She turned from the mirror. ‘Because that was me,’ she said simply. ‘I was the self-conscious one.’

His eyes said, Yeah, right. So did his voice. ‘I can’t believe you were ever self-conscious.’

She smiled in triumph then. ‘And that’s how I know I’ll make it as an actress.’ One day. ‘I’m good at pretending.’

She turned back to her pots of powder and paint. ‘At the end of the day you just want them to have fun.’

‘All I ever wanted was the food.’ He burrowed back down in the bed.

‘Figures.’ She concentrated on her eyes, worked in silence for several minutes.

‘Do you do boys’ parties?’ he asked.

At that she slanted him a look, saw the mischief in his face.

He tried to deny it, raising his hands all innocent-like. ‘I’m serious. You’re missing out on half your market.’

‘I do. But admittedly it’s more girls’ parties than boys’. But there are often boys there—especially the preschooler ones. I have a pirate queen routine that I do for them.’

‘You’re a pirate?’ He was back up on his elbows.

‘I make a really good balloon sword.’