Beautiful Beast (Gypsy Heroes)

I raise my hand and lay it on his flat stomach. He takes his hand and traces my mouth and desire starts to stain his eyes. He moves forward and leans his forehead on my shoulder and takes a deep shuddering breath. ‘Oh, Lily. What am I going to do with you?’

I wriggle myself so I am underneath his body, sweat seeping into my skin. ‘I have an idea,’ I say, focusing on his brutally masculine chest.

He looks

down on me. A hint of that which is centuries old, plain ol’ human lust, shines in his face. Fire explodes in my skull. I am so addicted to this man.

‘I really like the way you think.’ His amused whisper slides into my head like a little mind trick.

Some may call it love. I don’t.

‘Hungry?’ I ask.

‘Starving.’

We toss a coin to decide who is to make breakfast. He loses and to ease the pain I promise to make dinner. I stand against the counter and watch him put a pan on the stove.

‘Who taught you to cook?’

He smiles, cheeky. ‘Let’s get something straight, Lil. I don’t cook. I’m frying a couple of eggs because I lost a coin toss.’

I can’t help smiling back. Like this he is pure magic. The twinkling of his eyes warms my heart the way standing next to a three bar heater in a freezing room in winter warms the body. It actually makes me want to kiss that sexy mouth.

‘You don’t smile very often, do you?’ I say.

‘No?’

‘No.’ I look at him from beneath my lashes. ‘What would make you smile right now?’

An inscrutable expression crosses his eyes then is gone as quickly as it came. Then he smiles suddenly, dashing and irresistible. The pull of it is undeniable. I feel my knees weaken.

‘How’s that?’ he asks.

‘Not bad, considering how out of practice you are,’ I tease.

He steps closer and taking my shoulders in his hand, lowers his mouth to mine. The power of the unexpected kiss is shocking. It whips through me, setting fire to my senses. I hear the roaring in my ears as my mouth opens. He draws me closer and my whole body presses into his hard, clear need, and gives without questioning. My body knows what I refuse to acknowledge: I need him. I open my eyes quickly.

‘I’ll make the toast,’ I squeak, and walk unsteadily away to put some slices of bread into the toaster.

We have breakfast on the terrace and I eat with relish. I wipe my plate clean with a piece of toast and grin at him. ‘That was delicious, thank you.’

He leans back in his chair and smiles, beautiful eyes flashing. ‘So, my little wildcat, how would you like to take a tour of the island?’

I let my gaze travel over him, cool. ‘You know all my buttons.’

‘Good. Because I’m trying to impress you here.’

‘You’re doing great so far.’

He rises and holds out his hand.

Putting a sway into my hips, I walk with him through the house into the garage. He hits the button that opens the outside garage door and pulls a plastic cover off an absolutely stunning red and black Ducati Multistrada.

‘Wow! This is some bike,’ I exclaim walking around it, my sway forgotten. It is so spanking new there is not a scratch on it. I look at him, impressed.

He is beaming like a child. ‘Great, isn’t she?’

‘Awesome.’