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“Clearly. Two weeks.”
“Don’t you disgrace this family, boy.”
“I won’t, Father.”
***
As the minutes rolled by, with Vivienne seated in the front of Conall’s sleek sports car, a barrage of thoughts assailed her. She still wanted him, but without him touching her, kissing her, running those talented hands across her skin, her brain was honing in on things she usually remembered before jumping into a stranger’s car for sexual purposes! Not that she’d ever, ever thought of doing something like this before, or ever allowed a man to touch her so intimately, a man she barely even knew. Her cheeks grew hot, and she tugged at her collar as she remembered where his finger had been.
Jesus! She was acting like a whore, and she wasn’t. She was a virgin, hadn’t even allowed a guy to go to third base, had strangely enough, never really thought of having sex before, and now she was going somewhere with a stranger for that purpose. She didn’t even know where he was taking her. He would expect her to know what she was doing, and she didn’t. He could be anything: rapist, murderer, sociopath, or combination of all. Oh God, he could probably hurt her.
No, he wouldn’t. She knew that. Sensed that he wouldn’t hurt her. Still….
Clearing her throat, she turned to face him. His eyes were on the road, as they should be. “Look, Mr. Athelwulf, maybe this isn’t such a great idea…I’m not like…erm—this is a bit too fast….”
“Conall.” He corrected her easily, turning briefly to give her a quick, but intense glance.
She nodded. Of course it was. What had she been thinking, speaking so formally after the things he’d done to her in the elevator? She clenched her legs together, only to wish she hadn’t. The friction reminded her of how his fingers had felt against her. She moaned softly, and sent a look over to him, wondering if he’d heard. He gave no indication of it.
Vivienne was preparing to continue where she’d left off, trying to convince him to let her out of the car—and convince herself that she actually wanted him to do so—when they rolled to a stop before a valet dressed from head to toe in red and gold livery.
Conall turned to look at her, caught the question in her eyes and said nonchalantly, “The Waldorf. It’s closer.”
With that, he stepped from the car. She watched as he strode around the front and opened her door. He took her hand and she inhaled, feeling the electricity that seemed to pour from his skin to hers.
The walk to the suite was a blur of images and sounds. Vivienne didn’t see the curious gazes as they moved past hotel guests who were either leaving or entering. They cut quite a stark contrast, him white and dressed in the most expensive of clothing, and her black and dressed as carelessly as she was. Conall paused for a moment to talk to the hotel manager, and once presented with a key, he used it to open the door to one of the most beautiful suites she had ever seen. She barely had time to take in the magnificence of the room before he pulled her to him.
His hand moved to her hair, removing the clip that kept it off her back. As it fell from his hands, so did her hair. Tightly wound curls fell to the top of her back, and he ran his hand over and through them, admiring the different texture even as his lips claimed hers.
It was right then, in that moment, that Vivienne decided she would have make do with the fact that she knew his name and where he worked. That had to count for something. At least he wasn’t a complete stranger. Her hands slid around his waist, and she moved into his body, feeling the rippling muscles beneath the expensive suit. As his tongue licked at hers and fire consumed her, Vivienne moved her hands to his jacket. Instinct drove her to excel in something she’d never done before, remove a man’s clothes.
From the way his eyes glowed, Vivienne could see that he was surprised at her boldness. It was unexpected, she guessed, her being a virgin, but his surprise lasted mere seconds. She’d barely pushed his jacket off, before he quickly stripped her and lifted her.
Vivienne gasped and locked her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. She knew he was strong, but she was heavier than she looked. Still, she remembered that he’d carried her the first time they met. As his hand slid along her bare thigh then up her back, she tightened her grip on his neck. Leaning down, she gently nipped at his bottom lip, and was rewarded with a deep moan, before she kissed him fiercely. Conall did not break the kiss as he carried her across the large, spacious living room, and into the bedroom, where he followed her down to the massive bed.
