“Make me forget everything but you,” she whispered, her lips so close to his that she felt like her breath continued the kiss. She closed her eyes as arousal overwhelmed her. It felt like much more than arousal. It felt like the bond true lovers shared.
“I promise.” He flung the sheet from her, then, his gaze unwavering, he stretched out next to her like some reclining Greek god in a sculpture.
A beautiful, strong, virile Greek god.
His lips curved upward in appreciation. Unfettered excitement juddered through her. His eyes glittered with anticipation and as she flicked a glance lower, she saw other parts of him expressed anticipation too.
When he noticed the direction of her gaze, his smile turned wicked. “With every moment, I just want you more.”
Her heart crashed painfully against her chest. She couldn’t bear to hear such things. Not when tonight was all they’d ever have. She had to wrench herself back to reality before she drowned in this perilous bliss.
Desperately she struggled to find words to pierce the joyous abandon enveloping her. “You say that now but I’m sure you’ll be glad I’m gone. The way I’m sure you’re glad to be rid of every woman you tumble into this bed. Or at least once she’s served her purpose.”
She should have known she wouldn’t shatter his sensual mood so easily. His lips kicked up at the corners. “Your purpose seems to be torment.”
He cupped her breast in his powerful hand. She glanced down, and the sight of her pale flesh framed between his long, tanned fingers sent a thrill rippling through her. The self-protective impulse to keep him at a distance faded. They had so little time left.
He kissed the areola, then drew her nipple between his lips, rolling the tip against his tongue, then biting down gently. Her belly contracted with desire. He knew a thousand different ways to touch her. Each left her trembling and needy. She was defenseless against his physical mastery. It was as if he replaced her will with his.
Except today her will and his focused on the same goal. Ecstasy.
She stretched on a rack, caught between these teasing preliminaries and needing him to rush to completion. She moaned and shifted in encouragement. She needed to scotch the unhappy memories of the past. She needed his passion.
She needed . . . him.
He raised his head from her breast, his regard curiously intent. “And you’re wrong—I’ve never brought another woman to this house.”
With desire brewing like a summer storm, speaking was difficult. “What . . . what did you say?”
The question ended on a groan as he drew hard on her nipple and squeezed her other breast. From all directions, he assaulted her senses. He battered her with bliss.
“Mmm?”
He didn’t sound interested in talking. If he kept suckling her, she wouldn’t be interested in talking either. But what he’d said was so astonishing, she knew she must have heard incorrectly.
“You said you didn’t bring women here,” she forced out.
“Did I?”
With taunting slowness, he slid one hand down to test her heat. She squirmed and released a strangled sound that combined protest and pleasure. His thumb penetrated her slick folds, then circled.
“Y-you did,” she gasped, digging her fingers into his shoulders as need built. Sparks fired behind her eyes. “Nicholas . . .”
“Yes?” He too sounded caught in rising excitement. “Are you sure you want to talk?”
A strangled laugh escaped. “No.”
To her regret, he shifted his hand. He raised himself on his arms and stared down, his black eyes brilliant with hunger. “This house is my sanctuary. It’s not for an army of hysterical women.”
With a shaking hand, she smoothed the lock of dark gold hair that tumbled across his forehead. “Poor you,” she said with heavy irony. “Are all your lovers hysterical?”
He turned to skitter a brief kiss across her fingers. Her pulses leaped at the dancing contact. “Inevitably.”
“That means I’ll be hysterical too.”
Another smile tilted his lips. “Probably.”
“So why bring me here?”