Midnight At Tiffany's (From Manhattan with Love 0.50)

“I’m so sorry, so sorry.” Her face suffused by color, Matilda scooped up ice and dropped it back into the bucket and then used her dress to mop the pools of champagne from his sofa. It was the second time in one night she’d showered herself in champagne.

Why was she so clumsy? Why?

But there was no irritation in his face, just laughter as he put the bucket well out of reach and topped up her glass.

“Relax. Fortunately I moved before you could ruin my chances of ever fathering children.”

Children?

She had a mental image of two adorable children with his dark hair, blue eyes and sharp mind.

Blinking rapidly, she deleted the image from her head. There was fantasy, and then there was delusion.

“This time I’ll be in charge of the champagne.” He removed the glass from her hand, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Lie down.”

“But—”

“Just do it, Lara.”

She was fairly sure Lara wouldn’t follow orders quite so passively, but Matilda lay back, decid

ing that as long as she didn’t move at least she wouldn’t cause another accident.

“What are you going to—”

“Shh.” He tipped the glass slightly, showering her body with droplets of champagne.

“I could have done that—”

“Yes, but you couldn’t have done this.” He proceeded to lick his way down her body, until she was moaning and writhing under the skilled touch of his knowing fingers and mouth. She felt the hot, erotic slide of his tongue tracing her intimately, opening her, exploring with shocking precision, and she was relieved she was lying down because she was sure her knees wouldn’t have held her.

She gave a moan and then a gasp of protest as he turned her onto her stomach. She felt the warm slide of his hands on her spine and then felt him close his hands over her hips and lift her, positioning her carefully.

And then there was only the feel of him as he entered her in a series of slow, controlled thrusts that drove him deep. It was hot and agonizingly good, and she lifted her hips higher, hearing him groan as she offered him everything.

She clawed at the sofa and he brought his hand up to cover hers, his fingers tangling with hers while his other hand touched her intimately, sliding over her in sensual possession, leaving no part of her untouched. Electric sensations shot through her and she was aware of the demanding pulse of his release just before she tumbled into a climax so intense it robbed her of the ability to think.

She lost all sense of time but eventually felt him stretch out on the sofa and gather her against him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close in an embrace every bit as intimate as sex.

Matilda closed her eyes, trying to commit the feelings to memory. Never in a million years could she have written this scene. Never could she have found the words to convey the closeness, the trust, the absolute intimacy they’d shared.

She didn’t know herself with this man.

Which was fitting, she thought, as he didn’t really know her, either.

CHAPTER SIX

CHASE ORDERED FOOD and they ate pizza from the box and watched the dawn break over Manhattan. The sun rose, sending a morning blush across the sky as if New York was mildly embarrassed about the wild indulgences of the night before.

Was there anything better? Watching dawn break over the city he loved with a woman he—

He stared across the buildings clustered round the park, framing it like a painting.

A woman he what?

A woman he’d met a few hours before?

He didn’t know her second name. He didn’t know what she did for a living.