‘There was a time when just the thought of a man touching me was enough to make me flinch… And now this—’ She raised her eyebrows expressively. It was about all the movement she felt capable of right then.

Pulling her close, Xavier kissed the top of her head. ‘I can’t bear it when you say things like that,’ he murmured huskily. ‘I can’t bear to think I wasn’t there to protect you.’

‘But you’re here now,’ Sophie said, seeking a deeper place in his embrace.

‘I want to show you in every way I can that love isn’t about possession and violence,’ Xavier said, pulling back so that he could look deep into her eyes. ‘It should be something tender and beautiful between two people. Exquisite, sensational, fun—even boisterous—but never, never cruel, Sophie, never unkind.’

‘You’re kind,’ Sophie whispered. ‘Thank you.’

‘Don’t ever thank me,’ he warned. Tipping her chin up so she was forced to look into his eyes, he said softly, ‘You should never have to thank me just for being kind.’ And then his lips cut her off before she could answer him, and his arms closed around her again and they were making love, so that she only cared for the moment, only knew that she wanted him, and that Xavier made her complete.

‘What’s this?’ Sophie murmured later when she finally managed to tear her gaze away from the broad span of Xavier’s tanned shoulders and the band of muscle across his stomach as well as all the other remarkable assets he had encouraged her to feast upon. The object that had briefly claimed her interest was a large earthenware pot resting on a low table beside the bed. ‘Is it in case we get hungry?’ she guessed, raising the lid curiously.

Xavier groaned with satisfaction like a big cat basking in the sun. Stretching out his gleaming bronzed limbs, he turned his head lazily. ‘Not food,’ he drawled sleepily.

‘What is it then?’

‘Perhaps the villagers thought you might need a little encouragement.’

‘Encouragement?’ Sophie lifted the pot and put it on the pillows between them. There was some sort of thick cream inside and a delicious aroma began to fill the room. ‘What’s it for if we don’t eat it?’

‘Roll over,’ Xavier instructed, ‘and I’ll show you.’

With a last curious glance, Sophie did as she was told and rolled on to her back. She watched as Xavier dipped his fingers deep into the cream and them withdrew his hand so that she could see how it coated his fingers.

‘It is edible,’ he confirmed, licking his fingers with obvious pleasure.

Settling her head back on the mound of comfortable cushions, her hands indolently crossed beneath it, Sophie murmured, ‘My turn now.’ She licked it off appreciatively as Xavier brought his hand to her lips. ‘It’s delicious. I don’t understand—’

‘It’s used to massage the bride on her wedding night,’ Xavier informed her, his dark eyes mesmerising as they penetrated every inch of her, filling her with heat. ‘To enhance sensation, to prepare her.’

‘It’s a bit late for that.’

‘You’d be surprised,’ he murmured. ‘And it would be very rude of us to refuse such a gift when it’s been left here expressly for our pleasure.’

‘Do you believe in its properties?’ Sophie said curiously.

‘I’m not sure,’ Xavier said, pretending to frown, ‘but I do think we should conduct some clinical trials.’

‘Xavier!’ But it was too late. He had already scooped up a good portion of cream from the pot and was applying it to her body with firm, rhythmical strokes.

‘The old rituals include a massage with a cream derived from a particular tree,’ Xavier murmured, his voice strangely soothing, while his touch had the opposite effect. ‘That sap is said to possess magical properties that enhance sensation.’

Sophie’s breath caught in her throat. ‘I think it’s working.’

‘You do?’ he murmured, pausing for a moment.

Sophie’s whole body was alive with sensation, but it was the erotic challenge in Xavier’s dark gaze that triumphed over her scientific mind. ‘Why shouldn’t it?’ she said softly. ‘If they’ve been using it here for thousands of years, who am I to doubt it?’

‘And is that your reasoned conclusion?’ Xavier demanded, holding his hands away from her just to tantalise her all the more.

‘I don’t think reason has much to do with it,’ Sophie admitted, dragging him back again.

‘Was that good?’ Xavier murmured much, much later.

Good? Good didn’t come anywhere close to describing what she had experienced with him, Sophie realised. ‘Stunning,’ she admitted softly, rolling on to her back again. She had the satisfaction of hearing Xavier’s sharp intake of breath. Would he ever have enough of her? She hoped not.

‘Brazen hussy,’ he murmured accusingly, stretching his length against hers on the bed. Not quite touching her, he rested his chin on one elbow and stared into her eyes while he traced the contours of her face with his other hand. Dipping his head, he kissed her briefly on the lips.

‘Please,’ Sophie groaned softly against his mouth, feeling desire flare inside her again.

‘Please?’ Xavier murmured, pretending not to understand—though his eyes told her he did, and only too well.

‘You know what I mean…what I want,’ she insisted.

‘Don’t be so greedy,’ he cautioned in a low voice.

‘But Xavier, I—’

‘But what, querida?’

‘Don’t make me beg,’ Sophie warned, only half-joking.

The suspicion of a grin tugged insistently at his expressive mouth as he trailed his fingers down over her neck and on to her shoulders and watched her quiver beneath his touch. And his eyes were dancing with laughter, Sophie saw, writhing in torment beneath his touch. ‘I warn you—’

‘You do?’ He seemed even more amused by this last declaration.

‘I can’t… I won’t—’ Making a supreme effort, Sophie made a feeble attempt to get away, get up. If he wasn’t going to—

‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he growled, dragging her back easily, and securing her beneath his controlling weight.

‘Nowhere apparently, so now what?’ she challenged softly.

‘Now this,’ Xavier said huskily, moving down until he could take one of her painfully erect nipples between gently questing teeth. At the same time he took possession of her other breast, gently tugging and rolling the twin of the first tight bud between his thumb a

nd forefinger while his palms nursed and caressed her at the same time.

Sensation she had anticipated, but somehow he had raised the game; this was something else, something so extreme, so pleasurable—yet every time she managed to slip under his guard and move against him he allowed her only the briefest moment of satisfaction before gently holding her off…and all the while he was moving lower, lavishing kisses on her belly and then lower still so that finally she moved her legs wide for him in shameless invitation. When she rested her legs over his shoulders and his tongue touched her there, Sophie knew she was lost. All she could do was submit to sensation and allow Xavier to control the pace of their lovemaking. He was so skilled, so instinctive and perceptive that wherever he led she would follow, and whatever he wanted she would give to him.

As she cried out his name and begged him to come to her, Xavier moved again, lifting himself away until he could stare into her eyes. Then, seeing the trust and need reflected there, he took possession of her completely with one fulfilling and compelling thrust.

It was only when dawn’s silver fingers entered the room that they returned grudgingly to reality. It was like waking from a dream, Sophie mused. After the sultry excesses of the dark perfumed night, the new day showed things up in a very different light. She had slipped back into her role as Xavier’s mistress…and it was nothing more, she warned herself, however much she liked to fantasise about their future together. And Xavier was already pacing impatiently about the room like a tiger with a thorn in its pad, tossing the covers about as if the long hours of sensual indulgence between them had never taken place.

‘What is it?’ she said. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘My wristband,’ he said briefly. ‘It’s gone.’

Instantly alert, Sophie started searching the bedcovers. ‘When?’

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