She liked it. She liked the fizz of the champagne, the fizz of excitement running through her veins, the quiet, casual elegance of their surroundings and the shiver of not quite knowing what was going to happen when the evening drew to an end.
As it was doing now. They floated from the restaurant to the bank of lifts, purring up to their floor.
‘So…’ Max drawled, staring at the brushed steel of the lift door. ‘What do you think of the accommodation?’
‘My room?’
‘Like it?’ He shifted to glance over at her.
‘It’s the nicest hotel room I’ve ever stayed in—not that there have been very many. Of course, when it comes to delivering on the sort of atmosphere Izzy had in mind for—’
‘I’m not interested in talking about my sister or what she happened to have in mind.’
‘I just thought…’ The doors pinged open and here they were, in the wide marble and walnut corridor leading to their adjoining rooms.
‘We’ve spent the past two hours talking about work,’ Max murmured. ‘We now have two minutes before we reach our rooms to talk about what we both really wanted to talk about over that dinner.’
Mia’s heart sped up. She wasn’t looking at him, but she could feel him with every pore in her body. Then their eyes met and held. She had a choice to make. A fierce longing tore into her, and as it did common sense and prudence, two of her loyal companions when it came to her emotions, began to shrivel under the hot glare of her simmering excitement.
She was young! Didn’t she deserve to have a bit of reckless fun for once in her life?
She had never anticipated this sledgehammer kind of lust, but here she was, and what was she going to gain by denying it?
Mr Right had yet to come along but why not enjoy Mr Wrong? Mr Wrong would be fun!
‘Maybe we could have a nightcap…or something…’ she murmured and just like that she jumped off the side of the precipice.
Max gazed down at her averted face and clenched his hands as every dream and longing he’d ever had seemed to coalesce in this single moment.
Jesus, how could he ever have underestimated the power of desire?
He wanted to take her right here and right now, push her against the door and do what both their bodies wanted them to do.
He might have done if there’d been the slightest chance of privacy. Instead, he curled his fingers into her hair and lowered his head and stifled a groan of absolute pleasure as his mouth covered hers. He shifted his big body against her, felt her slenderness curve into him, and a syringeful of adrenaline couldn’t have had a more dramatic effect on his already soaring libido.
‘We have to get out of here,’ he groaned thickly, pausing only to step back an inch.
He didn’t give her time to answer, instead simultaneously flipping out the key card and lifting her off her feet.
The crutch fell to the ground, but he ignored it as he carried her caveman-style into his bedroom, which was shrouded in silvery light.
He liked that, liked seeing her—liked even more the thought of seeing her with nothing on, of satisfying the curiosity that had been burning in his blood since he had first laid eyes on her.
He hadn’t known how the evening was going to end. He’d hoped, but she was an unpredictable entity, quite unlike the women he was accustomed to. He had made sure to contain the conversation, to keep it in safe territory. Pride had dictated that he not make a blatant pass at her, but that had all gone down the drain as they’d headed to their bedrooms.
He’d been able to keep his desire at bay so far. He’d wanted to play it cool—hadn’t happened.
She was on his bed, just where he’d dreamed of her being. The dress was still on, but the shoes were off, and the way she was watching him, half-shy, half-bold and plenty hungry, made him cup his hardness, controlling it through his trousers.
He breathed in deeply and half closed his eyes, hunting around for his self-control which had gone AWOL.
Then he began to undress.
Mia watched in downright fascination, mouth parted, nostrils flared. She was so wet between her legs that she had to control an irresistible urge to touch herself, to satisfy the tickling there.
He was wearing navy boxers and her eyes were riveted to the impressive bulge distorting them.
Her breath hitched as those boxers dropped to the ground, and she shuddered and closed her eyes, parted her legs as the mattress depressed under the weight of him.
