She swallowed as he came closer, her nipples already peaking, her thighs already thrumming.
‘How would you like it?’ he asked, unbuttoning his shirt as he joined her on the terrace, pulling off his shirt and exposing that olive expanse of chest she loved so well. ‘Or maybe I should ask where?’
‘Right here,’ she heard herself say. ‘On the terrace.’ She yanked off her top, letting her unrestrained breasts fall free, feeding on the flames she saw flare in his eyes as she walked towards him. He thought she was going to kiss him, but instead she surprised him by dropping to her knees. Her hands went to his belt, feeding the leather through the straps, while his hands seared her back, radiating his need like a brand.
‘Leah,’ he groaned, as she unleashed him into her hands, took his silk-coated shaft between her lips and told him how much she loved him without uttering a single word…
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘CRISTO!’
Leah walked out of the bathroom the next morning to see Alejandro wrenching off a newly laundered shirt.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing,’ he insisted, ‘that Housekeeping can’t fix.’
She picked up the shirt, brushing the fabric smooth, noticing the problem immediately. ‘You’ve lost a button.’
He was already picking up the phone, jabbing at a button. ‘I haven’t lost anything. I’ll get somebody to take care of it.’
‘I can fix this,’ she said, cutting the connection with her finger on the cradle before anyone could pick up.
He glared down at her, all bare-chested Spanish indignation. ‘I need a shirt. With all the buttons intact. In two minutes or less.’
‘You could have had more time,’ she said innocently, ‘if you hadn’t insisted on accosting me in the shower when you knew time was already short.’
He took a playful swipe at her and growled. ‘Time was the only short thing going,’ he said, and she laughed, dodging around him as she reached for her bag and the tiny sewing kit she carried with her everywhere.
The needle was threaded, the button sewn on, secured, and ends snipped in less than thirty seconds. ‘There you go,’ she said. ‘Try that on for size.’
He frowned, his brows tugging together as he considered the shirt, the look in his eyes strangely confused.
‘You did that for me?’
She gave a nervous laugh. What was the big deal? ‘It was just a button.’
Was it? He mumbled his thanks as he took the shirt, slipping it over his shoulders and turning away from her as he buttoned it up, wondering what it was that was bothering him. The visual of her fingers sending the needle flashing through the fabric with such precision was still vivid in his mind.
People didn’t do things for him. Not really. People were paid to do things for him. It was the way things worked. It was the way he liked it. It was the way he’d got Leah back in his bed when she’d made it clear it was the last place she wanted to be.
Given her enthusiasm for the activities of the last few nights, he wasn’t so sure about that any more. But considering what he had to do to her tomorrow, before he left for Spain, he wasn’t sure he was comfortable with her doing things for him now.
Just a button? He wasn’t entirely sure.
It was scarily light for five-thirty in the morning, the early sun already warm on the terrace, the birds loud in the trees and the breeze nothing more than a promise. And now the deal was all but stitched up, with Caloundra set to become the first foray into Australasia by the Casino de Diamante group. It had been a productive few days.
Alejandro stretched in the morning air, and his gaze strayed towards the bed where she lay still sleeping, half covered by a sheet, her hair streaming across her pillow.
Not to mention a productive few nights.
But last night had been their last.
There was time, he knew, to have her again before they needed to have breakfast and meet the launch that was taking his team on a tour up the coast. There was time to take her in his arms and bury himself in her welcoming depths. Time to forget what he was going to have to do.
But his gut churned, twisting itself into knots, clamping down so tight he could barely breathe. He turned away from the bed—away from her—and leaned against the railing, trying to force air into lungs there was suddenly no space for in his chest.
This was what he wanted, what he had planned. He had her right where he wanted her. She owed him. She was his for the taking.