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Flawless skin? She could hardly believe her ears. He’d actually noticed something about her?
“I have a better idea,” he said, and suddenly he didn’t seem quite so amused. The laughter was gone from his steel gray eyes and in its place was a look so intense that, despite the warmth from the sun, she shivered.
He reached for her then and his hand slid up to cup the back of her head. “I think it’s high time,” he whispered, “that I gave my bride a proper kiss.”
Then, before she could make a move in protest, he’d pulled her against the solid wall of his chest, dipped his head and was kissing her with a passion that made her world spin. That first moment of contact was a shock but then, with a soft moan, she gave herself over to him, succumbing to the breathtaking ardor of his kiss, melting into him as he wrapped his arms around her.
And then slowly, gently, he lifted his head, releasing her lips, and her world righted itself. “Delicious.” His voice was low but his eyes burned into her. “I can’t wait to taste the rest of you.”
The words sent a frisson of awareness all the way up her spine. Sloane wanted her and if his kiss was anything to go by, he would be a superior lover.
The question was, could she handle it?
CHAPTER SEVEN
Melanie was glowing tonight. As Sloane sat across from her at the secluded table in The Gazebo, the open-air tree house style restaurant, he could not believe this was the same woman who had invaded his office with her crazy baby-making scheme. She’d seemed so straight-laced, uptight and rigid, every bit the CEO. Now that woman seemed far removed from the one who sat across from him, soft and relaxed and smiling. It was quite the transformation and he liked it. Taking her to Jamaica had obviously been a good idea. She’d been coiled tight as a spring but now all that tension was gone and he meant to keep things that way, at least for as long as she was on the island. That was the only way she was ever going to open up to him, let him get to know the real Melanie Parker. Or, as of the last thirty hours, the real Melanie Quest.
But as the night progressed and it came closer to the time for them to leave he noticed a change in her demeanor. She began to throw nervous glances his way and, more than once, he caught her twisting her napkin in her hand.
He frowned. “Are you all right?”
She jumped then reached for her glass of water. “Uhm…yes. Why?”
“You’re kind of jumpy all of a sudden.” He looked at her through narrowed eyes. “Do I scare you?”
“No,” she said quickly, “not at all.” But the flush rising up her neck made that statement an obvious lie. He stared at her for a moment longer until she dropped her eyes and started fiddling with the stem of her glass. If she wasn’t careful she’d be spilling the thing in another minute. “Look,” he said, his voice cold with annoyance, “you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I’m not going to force you, if that’s what you’re scared of.”
“No, please, I…” She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly then she raised her eyes to his. “I’m fine. Really. I just need to get used to the idea…that I’m a married woman now.”
“Well, you are, so deal with it.” She looked shocked at his harsh rejoinder but he didn’t give a damn. How the hell did she plan to ever get this baby if she was going to be so uptight? And besides, she was a grown woman in her thirties, not a teenage virgin.
He got up, startling her, and dropped his napkin on the table. “Let’s go.” He was behaving like a jerk but he had good reason.
The fact was, he wanted Melanie. All through dinner he’d been sitting at the table with a boner in his pants, his body tight with anticipation of the coming night. Ever since that kiss in the ocean he’d been holding himself in check, wanting more, but determined to be patient until the time was right. And now that it was time for them to retire to the privacy of their villa, now that it was time for him to take her into his arms and make love to her, she was acting like this? Like she wasn’t sure she was ready? It would drive any red-blooded man to frustration. He wasn’t used to this crap.
No, in his world, he didn’t have to go hunting. Women offered themselves to him. They didn’t act like they were scared he was going to ravish them. They craved his attention. They sought him out, not the other way around. But Melanie…she was the total opposite of what he was used to.
As he strode back to the villa, Melanie walking beside him in silence, he shook his head. He was in a heck of a fix.
But then when he got back to the villa his prickly mood softened. Maybe he was being unfair. Maybe she was not used to his intimidating personality. Maybe her reaction was all his fault.
And so he made a deliberate attempt to play nice. After all, despite her status as CEO of a multi-billion dollar enterprise, she was obviously no match for the women he’d had in his life, not where handling men was concerned. So, he decided, he’d just take it slow.
They got to the door but he did not go in. Instead, he reached out and took her hand. “Come here,” he said, but his voice was gentle as he pulled her closer. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice quiet as she lowered her eyes. “I’m fine now.”
“I apologize for my earlier behavior,” he said. “I was a brute. Can you forgive me?”
She looked up at him then, her eyes wide with surprise. “Of course,” she said. “No hard feelings.”
“Good.” He looked over at the tropical garden, the pathway lit by soft lights, the leaves and flowers glowing in the light of the moon. “I don’t feel like going in right now. Let’s go for a walk.” And then, suddenly aware that he hadn’t given her a choice, he asked, “Would you like that?”
Her face broke into a relieved smile. “I’d love to.”
So he’d guessed right. She still wasn’t ready for the inevitable. A walk along the beach by the light of the moon should put her in the mood. It would be calming and it would be romantic. Women loved that kind of thing.
Sloane almost chuckled aloud. He could not believe this was him, being so patient and understanding when what he wanted to do right then was to have this woman lying in bed, naked and panting under him. And then the realization struck. Maybe that was the difference. The woman holding his hand as they walked along the path was like none he’d ever had before. This woman was his wife.
And although he’d been a playboy all his life, a bad guy in the eyes of many, he did not take marriage lightly and, whatever it took, he was determined to make this work…even if it meant taking it slow, a lot slower than he was used to.
They spent the next twenty minutes strolling along the sand, saying little, but learning to relax in each other’s company. At least that was what Sloane hoped and, from what he could see, his plan was working. Melanie did not let go of his hand the entire time and in her grasp he could feel the easing of her tension and her increasing comfort with him. When he finally turned to head back to the villa she did not resist. Instead, she leaned into him with a sigh and that was when Sloane knew. She was ready.
When they got back to the villa he steered her toward the living room couch. “Let me get you a drink,” he said. “White wine?”
“Perfect,” she breathed as she leaned back and closed her eyes.
He flipped on some music and the sounds of Bob Marley’s ‘Turn Your Lights Down Low’ filled the room. When he came back with the wine and sat down beside her, Melanie opened her eyes and smiled.
“Thank you,” she whispered as she took the glass. And this time there was no hesitation in her eyes, only longing. Sloane could see that she wanted him and that was all he needed to know.
They relaxed into the sofa, sipping wine and listening to the crooning of the reggae singer but as soon as Melanie’s glass was empty Sloane reached over and took it from her then deposited both glasses on the coffee table. With a gentle hand he reached out and tilted her chin, turning her face up toward his, and then he lowered his head to taste those soft, sweet lips, the ones that had been tempting him all evening.
She was so tantalizing, her lips soft and succulent as she yielded to him. He pulled her closer and there was no resistance there. Heartened by her acquiescence he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her onto his lap, giving himself greater access to her lips, the softness of her cheeks, the smooth column of her neck.
When he released her lips she moaned and clung to him even as he feathered kisses down her neck and over her collarbone. She sighed when he went lower, and when he skimmed the top of her breast she arched up to meet his lips.
Thrilled at her response Sloane tilted her back, giving himself greater access, and when he slid the spaghetti strap off her shoulder to reveal even more of her breast, she shivered. But it was not from the cold, not when the air of the tropical night was so balmy and warm. No, she’d shivered because she wanted this, probably just as much as he did.
