Evening Star (Star Quartet 1)

Giana was naked and he was staring at her. She tried to focus her mind on what he had meant, but his mouth was covering her face and throat with light, nipping kisses.

“I knew I wasn’t wrong about you,” he said. “Your pulse is pounding, my love.” His fingers moved from the pulse in her throat, slowly downward to her belly. When they found her, she fell forward against him.

He felt her soft woman’s flesh moisten and swell to his fingers, and he smiled as he kissed her mouth. He eased his finger into her, feeling the heat of her body, and the convulsive tightening of her muscles. Then he was beyond thought. He pulled away and got rid of his clothes faster than he would have thought possible.

She was cold again. Slowly she let herself fall to her knees, clutching her arms over her breasts. She heard him chuckle, and then she felt the warmth of his body over her, felt him gently pressing her onto her back.

“Loose your hair, Giana,” she heard him say, but her arms were leaden at her sides, and she only stared up at him vaguely. He was naked, beautifully naked, and he was covering her, warming her. She arched upward, silently begging him, for she was too embarrassed to ask, and she saw him smile, even as his fingers closed over her again.

This must be passion, she thought. Her body felt taut, yet soft and open to him. His fingers left her and she moaned at the loss.

“Just a moment, Giana.” He pulled the pins from her hair and glided his fingers possessively through the loose, thick tresses down to her waist.

“You taste delicious,” he said, his tongue lazy on her mouth.

His body was scalding hot, and she clung to him, welcoming him as he moved on top of her.

“Four years I’ve wanted you.”

Alex felt himself losing control. He reared up over her, and she cried out as his warm body left her. She tried to pull him back down, lurching upward, only to feel him press her back.

“A moment, love,” she heard him say. He was looking down at her belly, his dark eyes on his gently probing fingers. “But I can’t wait, my love.” Pressing her thighs apart, he gasped in his need and thrust himself into her.

She felt searing pain as he drove into her, as if he were ripping her apart. She was shaking her head wildly, spilling her hair over her face and eyes. She clutched at him, and a shrill, thin wail tore from her mouth.

From a great distance, she heard him curse, his voice bewildered and angry. “Shit.”

She felt tears wetting the tangled tendrils of hair at her temples. She was pinioned beneath him. “I’m a virgin,” she whispered.

“Jesus, Giana.” Suddenly his body was tense above her, and his hard flesh was throbbing deep within her. She felt him shudder and his seed spewing from him, filling her.

Alex was panting, cursing himself between breaths for a rutting bastard. He rolled off her and rose, so angry with himself and with her that he cursed again, cursed until he could find no more words. He heard her sobbing, and turned back to her. He saw tears on her face, and streaks of blood on her thighs. She was shuddering, hugging her breasts with her arms. She opened her eyes and met his furious gaze.

“I’m sick,” she whispered.

“Sick,” he said. “What the hell do you mean you’re sick? You were a virgin, damn you, and that isn’t an illness.”

He clapped his palm over her forehead and felt the heat of her fever. “Damnation,” he said, and without another word he hauled her to her feet and lifted her into his arms. “I am not an ogre, you little fool.” He carried her down the short hallway into the bedroom. “You should have told me you were ill. Your mother’s influenza?”

“My mother didn’t have the influenza.”

Alex felt the anger of a foolish man. “Of course not,” he muttered. “That hardly explains why you didn’t tell me you were feeling ill.”

“You wouldn’t have believed me.”

Probably true, he thought. “Does your head hurt?” he asked as he tucked the covers about her.

“Yes. It stopped for a bit with the champagne.”

“You were a goddamned virgin. Jesus, I forced a goddamned virgin into bed with me. Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” He cursed under his breath at his own question.

“I’m going to be sick,” Giana said, lurching upward.

Alex grabbed the chamber pot just in time.

He fetched her water and held her head while she washed her mouth out and then drank greedily.

He tucked her in again and laid his palm on her forehead. He ran his fingers through his hair, and drew a deep breath. “You will need a doctor.” He rose from the bed and stared down at her. “Damned little fool,” he said. He shook his head. All he seemed capable of doing was spouting curses. What an incredible debacle.