Innocent in Her Enemy’s Bed

Had it only been this morning that they’d met and agreed to this caper?

To her mortification, her hands were visibly shaking as she reached for it. She heard another ripple of amused emotion travel through their audience.

How excruciating. She was a private person at the best of times and now everyone saw how she was reacting. He saw it.

She pried the box open and a dazzling marquise-cut diamond flashed like an arc weld into her eye. It was bridged over a spiral band of pavé-set diamonds, echoing the style of her day ring.

“It’s beautiful.” She was nearly struck speechless, unable to think of the last time she had received a gift of any kind, let alone something so lovely and personal. Something she instantly adored with her whole heart.

“It should fit. Your assistant really does give up too much of your personal information.” He pinched the ring to remove it from the box, then held out his other hand in request for hers.

His warm fingers cradled the fine bones of her hand and the cool weight slid up her finger, nestling into place as though it belonged there. A signal seemed to pulse from the flashing stone all the way up her arm to spark in her chest.

“No moving this one,” he said with a light tap against her knuckle. “It stays here to remind you that I’m in your life.”

As if she could forget! It was such a patently silly thing to suggest, a day’s worth of tension sputtered out of her in befuddled laughter.

His remote expression altered, softening into something that made her heart skip and the rest of her say, Oh.

Then applause rose around them, reminding her they were under intense scrutiny.

She started to withdraw her hand from his, but some joker started clinking a knife against a glass in that annoying demand for a groom to kiss his bride.

“Shall we?” Leander kept her hand and stood to draw her to her feet.

Did they have to? Sex was off the table, but they hadn’t said anything about kissing. She could have demurred. She could have done anything, but she let him draw her to him.

Goodness, he was tall! She was five-eight and wore three-inch heels, but he still towered over her. His broad shoulders blocked her from most of the prying eyes, which was a small relief, but his arms were sliding around her, gathering her close. His gaze held hers as his head dipped.

Her lips softened and parted as his mouth arrived...at the corner of hers.

That might have been all it was, but she accidentally turned the two millimeters needed so her mouth was under his. She lifted her chin to invite more. More pressure. More heat. More of the swirling fog that closed over her as he waited a single beat before his mouth sealed firmly over hers, commanding and suddenly hungry.

She hadn’t realized she was calling up a storm. His arms firmed around her as his tongue dabbed, then he devoured her. It wasn’t the taking of a ferocious wind that stripped her naked, though. It felt a little like that. She was bowed and defenseless against an unseen force, but in the same way he had coaxed her to detonate her own life, he brought forth a burst of sensuality from within her. She was suddenly soaked in need. In yearning. In a compulsion to lean into the wildness and become part of it.

As sensations rocked and ripped through her, she lost track of where she was. She swayed and clung to his strength, reveling in the movement of his hands across her back, giving herself up to this plundering kiss. His strength was all that held her up and, for a few moments, she felt safe here, even as every ounce of her self-possession was incinerated.

Joyful laughter and applause penetrated, reminding her they were in public.

She wanted to cringe away, then. Hopefully, he would believe she was only playing her part the same way he must be. He hadn’t completely abandoned his pride, though. Only her. How debasing.

“Will you let me go, please?” she asked into his throat.

“I can’t,” he growled. “My cuff link is caught in the lace of your dress. Also, your lipstick is smudged. Is it all over my mouth?”

She dared a glance upward. What a depressing comedy of errors.

She stole his pocket square and, staying close against the shelter of his chest, surreptitiously swept the linen around the border of her lips. She lifted her lashes in question.

“Better,” he assured her and took it with his free hand. He scrubbed it across his own mouth before he thrust it into the side pocket of his jacket.

Then he peered over her shoulder, arms encircling her as he carefully untangled himself.

She belatedly realized what was pressed against her stomach. His erection.

A bolt of shocked delight—and shock that she was delighted—went through her. Perhaps he hadn’t been faking the passion in his kiss?

He released her and cool air swirled across her overheated skin. He helped her with her chair and used the drape of his jacket to hide his fly as he retook his seat.

She might have sat there in a state of complete shock, but a server arrived with champagne. The cork popped and please, please let that be the last time the rest of the diners clapped and cheered.

“To us,” Leander said as they touched the rims of their tall flutes.

She drank hers way too fast.