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He hooked his thumb into the other strap and that one went the way of the first, sliding down her arms to reveal her breasts, soft and full, covered by the delicate lace of her strapless bra. She dropped her gaze, probably struck by shyness, but he did not give her a chance to turn away or hide herself. Seizing the moment, he lowered his mouth to her laced-covered bra and planted a kiss on the creamy skin then he slid over the lace to capture a taut nipple between his teeth.
Melanie gasped and dug her fingers into his arms.
Sloane took that as license to go on. He sucked the nipple into his mouth, lace and all, and teased and nibbled until Melanie let out a long, low moan. Then he moved to the other breast and gave it the same treatment, chuckling deep in his throat as he felt her squirm with want.
Releasing the stiff bud, he lifted his head and looked into her brown eyes, now cloudy with desire. “I know exactly what you need,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper.
In one fluid movement he rose, lifting her into his arms, and strode toward the bedroom. There, he laid her gently on the bed then proceeded to slide her dress down, revealing inch by delicious inch of her slender body. As the dress went lower, the color rose in her cheeks and she closed her eyes tight. Sloane smiled to himself. It was kind of cute, the way she was acting, like she wasn’t used to having a man admire her beautiful body.
With the black shift now off, he stood back to admire her sleek beauty, then he reached down to remove her bra.
“I’ll do it,” she said, her voice hoarse - whether from passion or nerves, Sloane didn’t know, but he chose to believe the former.
He shrugged. “No problem.” He turned and in quick time he’d divested himself of his own clothes. When he turned back to Melanie she was already under the covers, her eyes huge as she stared up at him. He frowned as he noticed her grip on the bedclothes. Was it possible that she was scared of him?
Her gaze left his face and skidded down his body and when it reached his groin she sucked in her breath and closed her eyes. Sloane almost laughed out loud. What kind of game was she playing? What, she’d never seen a grown man naked before? He lifted the covers and climbed into the king-sized bed beside her and pulled her into his arms and that was when he realized she was shaking.
What the…
“Melanie, what’s the matter?” He stared down at her in confusion but she refused to open her eyes. “Are you scared of me?”
She shook her head but still she did not look at him.
“Open your eyes.” He needed to see her, to understand what was going on inside her head. When she still did not open to him his patience grew thin. “Look at me, dammit it.”
That got the desired reaction. Her eyes flew open and in them was an uncertainty that made him pause.
And made him sit up. No, it couldn’t be. “Christ, you’re not a virgin, are you?” Was that even possible? A thirty-three year old virgin in the twenty-first century?
She shook her head. “No, I'm not. I…just haven’t made love in the last five years.”
Now that caught him by surprise. A woman as attractive as Melanie? But then he understood. This must feel strange to her, almost like new, making love to a man who, despite being her husband, was practically a stranger. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’ll be gentle. Just try to relax.”
He reached out to take her into his arms but she flinched and clutched the sheet even tighter. He frowned. There was definitely more to this than she’d told him.
“Talk to me, Melanie.” He kept his voice quiet and low, holding his frustration in. The last thing he wanted to do was to frighten her even more. “What’s going on?”
She gave a soft sigh then bit her lip. Finally, she spoke. “I’ve…always had a problem with sex.” She gave a nervous chuckle. “You’re going to laugh but…it makes me nervous. I just can’t…relax.”
Sloane did not laugh. There was absolutely nothing funny about what was happening right then. He felt like he’d just swallowed the craggy rock they’d seen in the water. This was serious. “And yet you put yourself in this situation? Just to have a baby?”
“I didn’t want to have sex,” she said, her tone defensive. “I didn’t even want to get married. You insisted.”
With a grunt of disgust he got out of the bed and walked out of the room. A cold sliver slid into his heart and he clenched his fists to hold in a burgeoning anger. It was true. He was the one who had insisted on both those conditions. But, for her part, she could have put all her cards on the table…before they walked down the aisle. And with a healthy sex drive like the one he had, he knew he was in big trouble.
What the hell had he gotten himself into?
CHAPTER EIGHT
With five bedrooms in the villa Sloane had no trouble finding a place to sleep. At first, Melanie had been relieved when he stalked out of the master bedroom and then never came back. At least he wouldn’t have her up all night, making her explain the bombshell she’d dropped.
So she hated sex. So what? Lots of women did.
But then when she’d stop pouting and bristling from having to defend herself she decided to be a bit more honest, if not with Sloane, at least with herself. What she really hated – or rather, feared – was her own performance in bed because so far it had been nothing but disastrous. And she had two failed relationships to prove it.
It was over an hour before Melanie’s nerves calmed enough for her to drift off but it was a restless sleep and when the day dawned she groaned, still tired and groggy. And what made it worse, she would now have to face Sloane.
Even though it was only seven, she dragged herself out of bed and headed for the shower. There was no use putting off the inevitable. It would be so much easier to hide out in bed all morning but she wouldn’t do it. Today, she would meet her monster head on.
To Melanie’s surprise, when she went out into the living room Sloane was already there. She paused in her tracks, momentarily unsure of what to do, what to say.
He spoke first. “Couldn’t sleep?”
Cautiously, she stared back at him, but when she could detect no anger she gave him a rueful smile. “I’m afraid not.”
He slid his hands into the pockets of his khaki slacks and grunted. “Me neither.” Then his gray eyes grew thoughtful as he stared back at her. “We need to talk,” he said, his voice quiet. “Let’s walk down to the beach.”
Melanie nodded. She owed him that much.
The air was fresh and cool as they walked along the pathway, and the moisture from the grass dampened her sandaled feet. She drew in a deep breath, seeking strength for what was to come, and was rewarded with the fragrance of the flowers as they lifted their dewy heads to greet the morning sunshine.
It was calming, this rich tropical scenery that surrounded them, so Melanie did not object when Sloane took her hand and led her to the bamboo bench that looked out onto the shimmering blue water of the Caribbean Sea.
For a while they sat in silence, both of them just staring out at the ocean, watching the gentle waves rolling in to the sparkling white sand, listening to the early birds singing in the nearby trees.
“Do you want out, Melanie? Do you want to annul the marriage?”
Startled by his questions, Melanie tore her gaze away from the scenery and stared at Sloane. “I…no…I don’t.”
And she meant it. She looked directly into those intense gray eyes and she did not flinch because she knew that she wanted to be here with him. She wanted to give this her all. And, regardless of her fears, she wanted to get to know him in every sense of the word.
His brows fell as he looked at her intently. “Are you sure? Last night you said the only reason you were in my bed was because I insisted. I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“I…” How could she deny it? Essentially, that was what she’d said, and it must have been a huge blow to his ego. Sloane was a man who was used to women offering themselves to him and here, he’d gone and married one who pretty much told him she didn’t want him.
“You need to be sure,” Sloane continued, his eyes never leaving her face, “because if you decide to stay I will make love to you. And often.”
That sent a ripple up her spine and that ripple, she was sure, had nothing to do with fear. She dropped her eyes, suddenly wary about what he might see there. Because, deep down, she wanted him.
And how could she explain that, when she’d rejected him the night before? She couldn’t even explain it to herself.
“I’m sure,” she whispered, as she stared down at her tightly clasped hands. “I want to stay.”
At first Sloane didn’t answer. He continued to stare at her in silence. She could feel his eyes burning into her as she kept her head bowed. Finally, he turned away and sighed. “So where do we go from here?” The frustration was clear in his voice.
