The Forgotten Gallo Bride

‘It seems impossible to believe there’s snow outside when it’s this steamy in here.’ She ran a finger down his torso.

‘Dare you to go out in it for a minute.’

‘Stark naked?’ She shook her head. ‘You were the one all irate about me getting hypothermia a couple of days ago and there’s far more snow out there now.’

‘But I like warming you up again.’

‘Then why aren’t you?’

He looked slightly sheepish. ‘I ought to rinse under the shower for a second.’

‘Don’t go anywhere,’ she muttered. ‘I want to look at you too. And I don’t mind it when you’re sweaty.’

She couldn’t take her eyes off his body as he shrugged out of his shorts and tee. After his workout he seemed more ripped than ever—every muscle acutely defined and that sheen over his skin just emphasised it all the more.

‘You don’t mind my being a little...’

‘Animal?’ She planted a palm on his chest, loving how broad he was.

‘You want to ride me?’ he dared, a glint in his eye.

Her mouth dried. What had he just said? ‘Um—’

‘How is it you can still blush?’ he softly teased. ‘You want to take charge?’

She was steaming up on the inside now. But she pressed her hand against his mouth. ‘Don’t tempt me.’

‘I live to tempt you,’ he breathed against her fingers. ‘So say anything. Do anything. Whatever you want. If you want to have your wicked way with me here on the floor, then I’ll happily submit.’

‘Oh, really?’ She tried to tease him back. ‘Because it would be such a sacrifice for you?’

He sighed theatrically. ‘It might be hard to restrain myself, but for you I will try.’

‘You’ll just lie there and let me?’ She didn’t believe him; even that first time when he’d pulled her astride him, he’d still really led their dance.

‘I’ll lie there for as long as I can.’

Her eyes narrowed as she recognised the caveat in his promise. ‘In other words, you’ll take over when you want to.’

His smile widened. ‘Probably.’

She’d almost run out of time. There was only now. So she was taking and making it hers. Making him hers. ‘Then you’d better get down on that floor.’

‘I think you’re a little bit wicked too, Zara Falconer.’

‘Not as wicked as you.’ She shook her head. ‘You can have me any time and you know it.’

‘The same goes for you so I guess we’re even.’

He was wrong about that. She was going to take full advantage because she knew this was going to be the last time. It had to be purely physical. Not emotional. Nothing more than a simple delight.

Except there was this humour they shared, this fun.

‘If you’re that wild,’ he muttered, a gleam in his eye as she moved to kneel astride him, ‘why don’t you try riding a little higher? I could lick that trail of water from you.’

Heat washed over her body as she skimmed her fingertips up his chest. ‘What?’

‘You heard.’ His hands gripped her waist, pulling her upwards, towards his chest. His face. His lips curved into the sexiest smile she’d ever seen. And his eyes gleamed like onyx.

‘You’re—’

‘Tempting you.’

Oh, he was. So very much. Holding his gaze, she moved that bit further up his body. Sensing his victory, he wrapped his arms around her thighs, holding her wide.

Oh, it was scandalously intimate. It was also the most blatantly erotic moment of her life. She rocked her hips gently and he lifted his head a little to catch her with sweeps of his tongue. With kisses that grew hungrier and more powerful. She groaned, writhing as he thrilled her. But just before she came, she pulled away—teasing herself as much as him.

He growled in protest, but said nothing. A calculating gleam entered his eye as she kissed her way down his body.

‘My shorts pocket,’ he muttered.

‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘I have one in my jeans.’

His little laugh pleased her. His muffled oath as she tried to sheath him pleased her too.

‘Have mercy,’ he muttered, pushing her hands out of the way in the end. ‘Let me do it before I lose it too soon.’

She knew she probably wasn’t going to last long once she started properly on him, so she paused to look up at the patterned glass ceiling high above her. ‘This is truly beautiful.’

‘Yes.’

She shot him a look. ‘Flattery will get you everywhere.’

‘It’s not flattery.’ He reached up and tweaked her nipple. ‘Are you really looking at the scenery at this exact moment?’

She laughed as she looked down at the strain in his body as he waited for her to stake her claim. ‘Am I taking too long?’

‘You’re killing me.’

‘Well, we can’t have that,’ she teased.

But her laughter died as she slid down on him, finally taking him to the hilt.

‘Hell, Zara.’

She looked into his eyes as they both paused to savour that moment. Suddenly it was nothing but emotional. He knew how amazing he could make her feel. How incredible she found making love with him. That was what this was for her—she was making love to him as freely as she could this final day.

She tried to ride him fast, but in the end all she felt was frantic. She abandoned the attempt altogether, reaching forward to kiss him. She needed to kiss him so badly. He gripped her shoulders, holding her to him and meeting her mouth with as much passion as she felt. The orgasm almost took her by surprise, hitting as she simply lay over him, on him, ground as close as she could get. No fierce thrusting, or playful fingers pressing the point above where they joined. Just kissing and straining connection. And she was there.

Home with him.

* * *

‘It really is getting too cold out here, Sleeping Beauty.’ Tomas bent low and scooped his sleepy lover into his arms.

Her eyes finally flashed open. ‘You can’t carry me all that way.’

‘Don’t think you can tell me what I can and can’t do.’ Tomas hoisted her higher in her arms just to prove the point.

‘As if you don’t try to do that to me.’ She rubbed her cheek against his chest as he carried her across the snowy path and into the big house.

‘I’ve discovered my latent desire to be a naturist,’ he said as he set her down inside the warm kitchen. ‘There’s nothing better than walking around this house with you completely bare. I might have to hide all your clothes and you’ll have to stay naked always.’

‘Could be dangerous while cooking,’ she answered tartly. ‘I wouldn’t want to get burned somewhere personal.’

‘No.’ He leaned close. ‘We wouldn’t want that.’ He kissed her and found his lust resurging. ‘The only marks on this body should be made by my mouth.’

She shivered as he bent to her breasts.

‘Only from pleasure,’ he added.

‘You’re insatiable.’ But she moaned as she said it.

‘I’m merely trying to keep up with you.’ He laughed with arrogant satisfaction as she wriggled that little bit closer, wanting him to resume his teasing touch. ‘So very demanding.’

But he was every bit as needy as she. He simply couldn’t resist any more. He bent his head to kiss her again. The beast i

n him liked to make a mark on her. To brand her as his in a deeply personal, physical way, so the world would know that she was his. That only he had the right to touch her most privately.

He was in trouble and he knew it. But he was too far gone to stop now. One more night. Just one more. He couldn’t bite back the growl of satisfaction as she arched towards him, angling her head so he could keep suckling the tender skin of her neck.

He knew she liked it too.

With a groan he bent his head and succumbed to his appetite, consigning that nagging concern to the back of his brain while his body—his soul—was sated. Despite that fear of impending disaster, he didn’t think he was ever going to get enough.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

How sorry she was.

HER CONSCIENCE STABBED her awake, but it was centuries till dawn. She counted the slow minutes as she waited for a more reasonable hour to wake him. She ought to do it now. Wake him and tell him. Apologise over and over. But it was the first night he’d not left to go to his room and he was in such a restful sleep and she couldn’t bear to just yet.

The room slowly lightened. He’d left a chink in the heavy curtains to let the starlight gleam in and eventually a beam of sunlight lit a bar across the bed.

Secretly, silently, she gazed at him, indulging for a last moment and telling herself she wasn’t really a stalker. A year ago she’d thought she’d fallen in love with him—that man who’d walked into her life and tipped it upside down before walking out again just over twenty-four hours later. He’d been her shining knight. The man who’d helped her escape misery. But she’d been so naive. In these last few days she’d got to know him for real—his humour, his struggles, his truth. There was so much more to love than just that gorgeous, scarred exterior. He was so much more complicated, more human than that beautiful bone structure and roguish charm.

She froze as he stirred.

His eyes opened and he blinked sleepily. She braced, strengthening her aching heart, knowing she had to do it now. She saw the moment he completely wakened. Awareness sharpened his eyes and for a half-second that frown appeared. But then he smiled and a look entered those eyes that melted her heart. But not her resolve.