A Vow of Obligation (Marriage by Command 3)

‘No, I darned well didn’t!’ Tawny snapped furiously. ‘I only told you in the first place because I thought it would make you understand why I was offended by your assumption that my body has a price tag attached to it!’

Navarre was engaged in studying the pulse flickering at the base of the slim column of her throat and the sweet swelling mounds of her breasts visible through the gaping neckline of the nightdress as she bent over him. Hard as a rock, he was still trying to work out what the price tag might encompass so that he could meet the terms and get much better acquainted with that truly exquisite little body of hers.

‘I also thought that my inexperience would be more likely to put you off,’ Tawny admitted, her voice trailing away breathily as she connected with his eyes. ‘Let go of my hair, Navarre …’

‘Non, ma petite. I’m enjoying the view too much.’

Only then did Tawny register where his attention was resting and, hot with embarrassment, she lifted the hand she had braced on the pillow by his head to press the neckline of her nightdress flat against her chest.

Navarre laughed with rich appreciation. ‘Spoilsport!’

Off-balanced by the rapidity of her own movement, Tawny struggled to pull back from him but he tipped her down instead and encircled her mouth with his own, claiming her full lips with a harsh masculine groan of satisfaction. That sensual mouth on hers was an unimaginable pleasure and it awakened a hunger she could not control. Without her quite knowing how it had happened, she found herself lying back against the pillows with a long masculine thigh pinning her in place. Her hands smoothed over his wide brown shoulders, revelling in the muscles flexing taut below his skin. His fingers flexed over the swell of her breast and her spine arched as his thumb rubbed over the straining nipple. Her response was so powerful that it scared her and she jerked away from him.

‘This is not happening!’ she gasped in consternation. ‘We can’t—’

‘What do I have to do to make it happen?’ Navarre asked huskily.

Tawny tensed and then rolled back, ice blue eyes shooting uncertainly to his face. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

Navarre shifted against her hip, making no attempt to conceal the extent of his arousal. ‘Whatever it needs to mean to bring about the desired result, ma petite. I want you.’

Tawny flushed and imposed space between them. ‘Let’s forget about this and go to sleep. I’m working for you. And this situation is exactly why working for you should not include the two of us sharing a bed half naked.’

Navarre toyed with the idea of offering her all the diamonds. Just at that moment no price seemed too high. But that would be treating her like a hooker ready to trade sex for profit. She had got her feelings on that message home, he conceded in growling frustration. He scanned her taut little face and then noticed that she was trembling: there was an almost imperceptible shake in her slight body as she lay there. He compressed his stubborn mouth, rolled back to his own side of the bed and switched out the light. She played hot and then cold but he was beginning to consider the idea that it might not be a deliberate policy to fan his desire to even greater heights. What if she really was a virgin? As if …

In the darkness tears inched a slow stinging trail down Tawny’s cheeks. She felt out of control and out of her depth and she hated it. She had never understood why people made such a fuss about sex until Navarre had kissed her and if he had tried he probably could have taken her to bed right there and then. Unhappily for him he had missed the boat when she was at her most vulnerable and now she knew that Navarre Cazier somehow had that magical something that reduced her usual defences to rubble. Her breasts ached, the area between her legs seemed to ache as well and even blinking back tears she was within an ace of turning back to him and just surrendering to the powerful forces tormenting her body. Stupid hormones, that was what the problem was!

Tawny was still a virgin purely because the right man had failed to come along. She had never had a serious relationship, had never known the wild highs and lows of emotional attachment aside of an unrequited crush in her schooldays. She had had several boyfriends at college. There had been loads of kisses and laughs and fun outings but nobody who had made her heart stop with a smile or a kiss. She tensed as Navarre thrust back the sheet with a stifled curse and headed into the bathroom. She listened to the shower running and felt guilty, knowing she had responded, knowing she had encouraged him, but finally deciding that he was not suffering any more from the anticlimax of their lovemaking than she was herself. Restraint physically hurt.

Early the following morning she wakened and opened her eyes in the dim room to centre them on Navarre. He was poised at the foot of the bed looking gorgeous and incredibly masculine in shooting clothes that fitted his tall, broad-shouldered and lean-hipped physique so well they were probably tailor made. ‘What time is it?’ she whispered sleepily.

‘Go back to sleep—unless you’ve changed your mind and decided to come shooting?’ As Tawny grimaced at the prospect he laughed softly. ‘Peut-être pas … perhaps not. What was that about you not wanting to kill little fluffy birds, ma petite?’

‘Not my thing,’ she agreed, recalling Sam Coulter’s dismay at grouse being giv

en such an emotive description.

‘Are you joining us for the shooting lunch?’

‘I have no idea. I’ll be at Catrina’s disposal. She mentioned something about a local spa,’ Tawny told him ruefully.

‘You’ll enjoy that.’

‘I hate all that grooming stuff. It’s so boring. If I was here on my own I’d be out horse riding or hiking, doing something active—’

‘You can ride?’ Navarre made no attempt to hide his surprise.

Watching him intently, Tawny nodded. She decided it was that fabulous bone structure that moved him beyond handsome to stunning. ‘My grandparents used to live next door to a riding school and I spent several summers working as a groom.’

Navarre sank down on her side of the bed, stretching out long powerful legs. ‘You can phone your grandmother this evening before the party.’

‘Thank you.’ Her soft pink mouth folded into a blinding smile and he gazed down at her animated face in brooding silence.

Navarre ran a forefinger across the back of the pale hand lying on top of the sheet. ‘I’ve been thinking. I may be willing to extend our association.’

Her brow furrowed. ‘Meaning?’

‘When our business arrangement is complete I may still want to see you.’