‘Shall I lie down here and wait? You don’t need to stay with me...’
Her voice was shaking and she realised she had backed up against one of the comfortable beds. The frame was jabbing into her lower back.
‘What are you doing?’ she exclaimed as Dante tried to take one of her towels away.
‘You can’t have a massage while you’re wrapped up like a mummy,’ he pointed out.
‘I’m sure the masseur will tell me when to lose them,’ she protested, taking a step to one side.
She frowned as she watched Dante pick out a bottle of massage oil from the selection on the shelf. ‘Shouldn’t we wait for the masseur to do that?’
And then the penny dropped. Dante had no intention of calling a masseur.
Bolts of alarm stabbed at her chest. She couldn’t do this. She had gone along with it up to now to allay his suspicions, but this was as far as she could go. It had to stop.
‘Get on the couch, Karina.’
Her mind was racing as she tried to find a way out of her predicament.
‘Okay,’ she agreed finally. ‘But we do this my way.’
Dante’s stare was dark and amused. That was how she planned for it to stay.
‘This starts with you,’ she said firmly.
His brow creased as he looked at her, and then his lips pressed down with amusement. ‘I have absolutely no objection to being dominated.’
‘Good,’ she said lightly. ‘Now we’ve got that settled, would you like to undress and lie down?’
All that was left was for her to instruct her heart to continue beating and breath to enter her lungs.
Dante had absolutely no worries about exposing his body to her and Karina hid her blush as he deftly stripped off his shirt and jeans. Turning towards the robes she’d noticed hanging nearby, she grabbed one and put it on over her towels before dropping them to the floor. Dumping them in a wicker basket marked ‘Laundry’, she belted her robe and an oil to use on Dante, choosing sandalwood—sultry, spicy and perfect for him. Warming it between her palms, she tried not to let her gaze linger on his powerful body, which was now stretched face down on the couch, awaiting her attention.
He shifted position impatiently. ‘When you’re ready...’
‘I thought this was supposed to be our chance to relax? What’s your hurry?’
‘We’ve both got work to do,’ he growled.
‘Thank you for reminding me,’ she said dryly, and with a deep breath she began, but not before she’d draped a towel over his taut buttocks. If she couldn’t see them she would be able to resist feeling them beneath her hands!
Dante tensed the moment her hands touched him. She hadn’t expected that. She hadn’t expected the muscle memory in her fingers to hold such an acute recollection of the play of muscle beneath his skin. Her breathing quickened when he groaned with pleasure. She was obviously doing something right. Applying more pressure, she allowed herself to enjoy his silky heat. His body was hard and muscular, and there were sinister ink whorls on his powerful back and on his biceps. The staggering width and strength in his shoulders, tapering to a lean waist, reminded her how she’d felt when he’d loomed over her.
He was built to scale, she remembered, her mind going back to that night. Thinking about such things was easy and safe, but actually doing anything like that again was another story; a story that was lost in the darkest part of her mind...
‘Giving up already?’ he demanded.
She swallowed convulsively, caught in the act of an extremely erotic thought. ‘Of course not.’
She grew in confidence and Dante relaxed. Leaning over him, she threw all her weight into the massage, kneading his knotted muscles until they softened. She had plenty of time to think about the man she was getting to know all over again. Before she’d come to his ranch she’d had a vague idea that he would live in solitary splendour with an army of servants to do his bidding, when now she knew that nothing could be further from the truth—
‘Is that it?’
She was startled to find Dante sitting up and staring her in the face.
He shrugged and swung off the couch when she didn’t reply, tucking the towel she’d covered him with around his waist. ‘Your turn now,’ he said.
She flinched back as he stripped away the linen sheet he’d been lying on and replaced it with a clean one. ‘Well?’ he prompted. ‘What are you waiting for?’
She couldn’t move. She was filled with dread, but if she made him wait he would become more suspicious than ever. If she did as he asked, he’d see what she had been trying to hide from him.