A Deal Before the Altar

In seconds they were alone in their suite, and only then did he let go of her hand. For a moment they looked at one another, gazes locked in some sort of primal dance. His chest rose and fell with the effort of breathing, just as hers did, and she knew instantly where this was going to end—and, worse, where she wanted it to end. He was an addiction.

With a muttered Spanish curse he turned and opened the door to the bathroom, and she watched through the doorway as he turned on the shower. She swallowed hard as he turned back to her, his expression almost fierce with control.

‘Santos...’ She managed a croaky whisper as he held out his hand to her. She took it and he pulled her hard against his wet body. Only then did she realise she was trembling.

‘You’re cold,’ he said quietly, but she didn’t miss the intensity in his voice.

She wasn’t cold—not enough to tremble like this. It was him, and the electrified air that seemed to surround them.

‘Come on.’ He led her into the steam-filled bathroom and into the shower—one that had definitely been designed for two.

His hands slowly untied the bikini where it fastened at her neck, and each time his fingers touched her she had to suppress a shiver of pleasure. He let the thin straps go and peeled the wet material slowly away from her breasts, his gaze lingering enticingly on them.

He made a signal with his hands for her to turn around and slowly she did so, meeting the jets of warm water. Behind her she felt his hands as he released the final clasp of the bikini top and it dropped to the shower floor. Seconds later it was joined by his black trunks and her knees nearly buckled beneath her. Desire flooded her as he pressed his naked body against her back.

Instinctively her chin tilted up and she leant her head back against his shoulder, turning her face towards his. Hot, urgent lips claimed hers with such force she staggered forward, taking them both under the hot jets of water. His hands cupped her breasts and fire engulfed her, making her cry out with pleasure.

‘You are the most desirable woman ever, mi esposa.’

He kissed down her neck, uttering words she didn’t understand. But she did understand the desire and passion entwined with each one. A desire and passion that raged as wildly inside her.

‘Santos, I want you.’ Her voice was husky as his hands slid down her stomach, his fingers tugging at the ties on the side of the bikini briefs. As the material fell away his fingers moved towards the heated centre of her need for him and she arched away from him, trying to fight the ripple of pleasure from his touch.

With a suddenness that knocked all the breath from her body he turned her around, grasped her thighs, lifting her against him.

‘Santos, it’s never been like this before,’ she gasped between ragged breaths as he lowered her onto him, plunging deeply and urgently inside her. She didn’t care that she was telling him too much, giving away just how inexperienced she really was and how she was falling in love with him.

‘Never?’ The question rasped from him, halting her thoughts, as his fingers dug into her thighs, holding her where he wanted her.

She moved with him, encouraging him in this hot, hard and primal dance. ‘Never,’ she gasped out as stars shattered around her so that instead of water coursing all over her it was stardust. ‘Never. Never.’

As he found his release she clung to his body, trembling more now than she had when she’d stood before him in the bedroom just moments ago. He was breathing hard, his chest heaving against her tender breasts, one arm braced against the shower wall.

‘At least we agree on something.’ His voice, heavily accented, was a ragged whisper.

He released his vice-like grip on her thighs and she slid down, her legs so weak she wondered if she’d be able to stand. She couldn’t. Her knees crumpled, but his arms were about her and in seconds he’d swept her up off her feet and left the shower.

Pausing briefly to grab a towel, he made his way to the bed. As if she were the most precious thing in the world he let her down to stand in front of him and then wrapped the white towel around her, heedless of his own wet body. Then he bent and kissed her lips so tenderly she thought she might actually cry. This was exactly what she’d abandoned all hope of ever finding, this warm, loving feeling.

Except this wasn’t for real. This was just part of a deal, satisfying the attraction that had been arcing between them since that very first meeting. It was also the only way she knew of keeping Santos from heading back to the villa and maybe London.

‘You’re still wet,’ she whispered, not wanting to analyse her motives or question her dreams now.

He stepped back from her and started rubbing his hands over the towel to dry her. This was getting too intense, too close to being like a proper romance, so great was the attraction she felt for him. Her breath shuddered as he pulled the towel from her and dried himself off. And all the while his gaze held hers, the passion and desire still flowing between them evident in the depths of his eyes.