Evening Star (Star Quartet 1)

“What if I don’t like it?”

“If you don’t like it, Giana, you may personally divest me of my manhood.”

“I fancy I will not dislike it that much.”

He kissed her on her pursed lips and lifted her into his arms. To Giana’s befuddled surprise, he did not carry her to the bed, but eased down into an armchair in front of the fireplace, settling her comfortably on his lap.

“Promise me you won’t wear a corset anymore.”

He sounded perfectly serious. She was nestled against his shoulder, her body molded against his, and he was talking to her about her wretched corset. “I promise,” she said quickly.

“So agreeable already.” He eased her back against his arm and smiled down into her expectant face. “You look for the world like a child on Christmas morning.”

His voice was a caress. She felt his fingers on her throat, resting for a moment over her pulse. The sash on her dressing gown fell open and she felt his fingers prodding the buttons of her nightgown. She closed her eyes in anticipation and embarrassment. She felt cool air on her shoulders and breasts, and opened her eyes again. He was staring down at her, his fingertips following his roving gaze. She drew in a sharp breath when his hand cupped her breast.

“I used to be flat-chested,” she said.

“I used to have small hands.” His hands left her breast and trailed down to her stomach. He pressed his palm against her belly, barely touching the triangle of hair that covered her woman’s mound. To her consternation, he leaned his head back against the chair top and closed his eyes, his traitorous hand still on her—as if she were an arm rest, she thought indignantly, as if he were bored. She tried to stiffen against him, but succeeded only in rearing up against his arm, sending his fingers lower.

Alex opened his eyes and lazily studied her flushed face. “I begin to believe that if there is any forcing to be done, it will be by my shy bride.”

“If you are so uninterested, why don’t you simply leave?”

He smiled, wondering if she could feel his sex, hard beneath her hips. “Leave you, princess?” he asked. “No, I won’t do that again.” His fingers were tangled in her nest of hair, searching for her, even as he spoke. They caressed her lightly, and left to glide over her thighs. Giana drew a breath and pulled herself up against his shoulders.

“There will be no guilt on the morrow, Giana, no regrets,” he said, holding her still against him. “Even though you are not my wife, you are

mine, now and tomorrow. Do you understand what I’m asking of you?”

Giana pulled her face from his cheek. “I am here, Alex,” she said.

Alex would have said more, but it was not the time for talk. Her passion was unknown to her, a tantalizing unknown she would say anything to discover. He carried her to the bed, cradled in his arms, and pushed her open nightgown from her shoulders. He stripped it away and lifted her naked onto her back.

“Are you cold?”

“A little.”

“A moment, love,” he said, shrugging off his dressing gown. He stood naked, his sex thrust out from his body, giving her time to study him.

She followed the mat of black hair on his chest as it narrowed to his belly and bushed out again at his groin. “You want me,” she whispered.

He grinned. “Could you ever doubt it?” He climbed into bed beside her and balanced himself on one elbow, not touching her. “I have never understood why blonds are thought so alluring,” he said. “Do you know how delectable you look, all silky white with those soft black curls?”

He laid his hand over her breast, delighting at her racing heartbeat. “Come to me, love.”

He pulled her against him and kissed her deeply, savoring her mouth and her tentative response to him. He held her against his arm and stroked her breasts, her hips, until she cried into his mouth. He pressed her belly hard against his sex and dipped his face down to suckle her breast.

“Alex, please, please help me,” she said, her fingers digging at his shoulders.

He reared up over her, his lips following the trail of his hands, and eased himself between her thighs. “You are beautiful, Giana,” he said, and parted her. “Delicate, like opening petals, pink and soft.”

She lifted her hips against him. “Like one of your flowers?”

She felt his strong hands grip her thighs and raise her to him until his warm mouth closed over her. She suddenly saw him in the Golden Chamber. “This is what you did to Margot.”

Alex raised clouded eyes to her face. “Margot?”

Giana could not stop her hips from twisting against his hands. “Yes. I saw you, Alex. I saw you in Rome, making love to Margot at Madame Lucienne’s.”