Claimed for Makarov's Baby

They reached her suite first and stopped outside and Erin felt slightly breathless as she pushed open the door. Inside, low divans were scattered with brocade cushions and the powerful scent of roses wafted through the air.

‘Goodnight,’ she said, thinking how inadequate that word sounded when all she could think about was that he was close enough to touch. Close enough to kiss. So go. Go now—before the cool gleam of his eyes entices you any more and the sensual lines of his lips tempt you into doing something you shouldn’t. But her sandaled feet didn’t move from the spot.

Dimitri stared at the woman in front of him, conscious of the mixed messages she was sending out, and conscious of his own feelings of confusion. He wanted to remember the web of deceit she had woven and to remind himself that she’d told the same lies as his own, dear mother. But the hungry throb of desire which pulsed through his body was far stronger than his reservations. Part of him hated what he was about to do, but he seemed unable to stop himself from stepping onto the inevitable path of seduction. ‘You look beautiful tonight, Erin.’

She looked momentarily nonplussed, as if she wasn’t used to receiving compliments about her looks. ‘Thank you,’ she said, her voice betraying a hint of nerves. ‘I have Sofia to thank for the dress. She has excellent taste.’

‘I don’t want to talk about Sofia’s taste.’

‘No,’ she said, looking as if she was trying to make herself yawn. ‘Actually, it’s very late and I want to go to sleep—’

‘Are you quite sure about that?’ he questioned.

‘About...what? About whether I want to go to sleep?’

‘About what you really want.’ He reached out to touch her cheek. ‘See how you shiver when I touch you?’

‘Maybe I’m cold.’

‘In the desert?’

She licked her lips. ‘Dimitri,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t.’

‘Don’t what? Don’t tell it how it is, when I get the distinct feeling that you want me as much as I want you. Don’t you? I think you want me to kiss you—and God knows I want that, too. You’ve driven me crazy all through dinner. I could barely concentrate on a word the Sheikh was saying because I kept looking at you and thinking how much I longed to touch you.’

His words disarmed her and so did the molten look of desire in his eyes—and Erin was already weakened by her own desire and the stupid vulnerability which his passionate words had stirred up. Was that to blame for what happened next—so quickly and so completely that any other action seemed unthinkable? One minute she was staring at him and trying to summon up the strength to walk away and the next she was in his arms and he was kissing her so hungrily that she thought she gasped, or squealed or something.

Perhaps the sound reminded him that they were on the Sheikh’s territory and the rules governing Jazratan were far stricter than their own, because suddenly Dimitri was levering her into her suite and shutting the door behind them. For a moment she just stared at him with her heart beating wildly beneath the beautiful dress and then he was pushing her up against the wall and kissing her.

One last stab at reason told her to stop him before it was too late, but she simply ignored it, coiling her arms greedily around his neck as he deepened the kiss. Because he was right. Her eyelids flickered to a close as his tongue began to explore her mouth. She did still want him.

For years she’d been yearning for his kiss—not the arrogant mark of possession which had taken place in the register office, but this. A real kiss.

When she’d lain sleepless, with his baby kicking beneath her heart, she had wanted him to hold her tight like this. In those early years of struggle, when she’d discovered that Leo was allergic to peanuts and she’d felt as if she’d been running round chasing her tail, existing on hardly any sleep and far too much black coffee, she had longed for the comfort of a man’s touch.

Dimitri’s touch.

And now she had it—and it was all-consuming. He was driving his lips down hard on hers and she was responding in kind, not just because she felt frustrated and empty or because he was irresistible—it went much deeper than that. Because their cells had mingled when their child had formed inside her and Dimitri had awoken her in so many ways. He had taken her virginity and given her an orgasm and made her pregnant, all during one long night of bliss.

His hands were moving over her body, palms undulating over the narrow curves of waist and hips, as if he were discovering them for the first time. She heard his low growl of pleasure as he brought her up against the growing hardness at his groin, mirrored by the molten rush of heat to her sex. He cupped one of her breasts, curling his fingers over the shiny green material, and her nipple pushed insistently against his palm as she teetered on the brink of giving in to the urgent demands of her body. A couple of minutes more and he would be undressing her. He would be kissing his way over her naked body and she would be urging him on, just like last time.