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She sighed, rolling to her back and making her dress dip dangerously low. Her br**sts rose with every breath. Instantly, he was rock hard and throbbing for relief. With a restraint he wasn’t aware he possessed, he back away.
“Good night,” he whispered and left the room.
Chapter Eighteen
Zoe’s eyes popped open. She sat up, looking around the unfamiliar bedroom.
The unfamiliar weight on her ring finger caught her attention as the previous night’s events came rushing back. Flash Mob. Little White Chapel. Skinny Elvis. Kissing Christian in bed. Not only that, she had pleaded and begged him to have sex with her. He’d refused not once, not twice but three times.
Groaning, she fell back on the pillow and stretched an arm over her eyes.
“Good morning, wife. Already regretting last night?”
She jerked up, watching as Christian pressed a button on his way to her. The curtains moved into hidden chambers in the wall. “Of course not.” She blinked and squinted at the sunlight streaming through the floor to ceiling windows.
The mattress dipped slightly under his weight as he sat down. He looked completely sexy and ready for the day while she had morning breath and bedhead. A sneaky glance at the mirror directly across from the bed made her want to yank the sheet over her head, and not come out again until he left.
“Feel like eating?” His blue eyes were sympathetic.
Her stomach growled. “Maybe some dry toast and a glass of orange juice.” That usually calmed her stomach.
“I’ll be back,” he said, rising from the bed.
As soon as he left the room, she raced to the bathroom. “Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God,” she chanted. After seeing to her most pressing need first, she washed her hands, rinsed her mouth out with some mouthwash and scrubbed at her face. There wasn’t much she could do for her hair, but she managed to make the side sticking up lay back down.
Well, at least she didn’t look like she could scare him into an annulment. He was probably used to waking up with women whose hair was gently tousled and their makeup sleep proof. Not smeared to look like a before picture.
She made it back to bed and slid under the covers before Christian returned.
He coughed, then sat down beside her. “We need to talk about last night.”
“Don’t remind me,” she moaned. Insert part C into part Z. Could she have sounded more ridiculous? Oh, wait she could and had. It’s written in the language of love.
“But you were so hot. So wild and uninhibited. No matter how many times I told you we couldn’t do it on the balcony, you insisted. And as your husband, it’s my duty to make you happy.” He stroked the side of her face. “My little wildcat.”
She tried swallowing, but her mouth felt like gauze had been stuffed into it. Not only had they had sex, but she had been an exhibitionist. To make matters worse, she didn’t remember anything. “I…uh, that is…”
Christian looked hurt and his hand fell away. “It wasn’t good for you? Did I fail to live up to your expectations?”
Horrified, she shook her head. There was no way she was going to admit she didn’t remember their time together. “Oh, no, you were… awesome.” Awesome? She was a best-selling novelist and that’s the best adjective she could come up with? She racked her brain. “It was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. Almost like I wasn’t myself.” It had to be, because blanks kept coming up when she tried to rewind her memories. She had the absurd notion to scream her fool head off in frustration.
A grin tugged at his mouth. “Don’t you mean almost like it didn’t happen?”
She gasped, then grabbed the pillow beside her and began smacking him with it. “You mean, teasing thing.”
He laughed and blocked her blows. In one swift move, he had her wrists pinned to the bed.
“I missed you, Zoe.” He licked at a small spot on her neck. Heat spread through her body in languorous waves. “Tonight, I’m going to make love to you until you’ve forgotten your name. Until you only exist for my pleasure and me for yours. I’m going to be so deep inside of you that we fuse from the heat of our bodies.”
“Knock, knock. Are you two indecent?” came a male voice, with a British accent.
Christian looked at her with such longing that it took her breath away. Releasing her wrists, he turned to face their intruder. “Have I ever told you, Sasha, that your timing leaves much to be desired?”
“Hello, beautiful. Here’s the toast and orange juice you ordered.” Sasha gestured to the tray now resting on the nightstand. He sat down beside Zoe. “Gave the butler the day off.”
“Um, thank you,” she said.
“Shall I feed it to you, dear?” asked Sasha with a wink.
Zoe’s eyes grew as round as DVDs before she looked at Christian with ‘help me’ practically written all over her face.
Christian pulled her over to his lap and reached for the tray, balancing it with one hand and settling it in her lap. “My wife can feed herself.” He grabbed the toast out of her hand and held it up to her mouth. “Here.”
She took a small bite. As she chewed, he could almost see the gears turning in her head.
Sasha’s knowing eyes roved over Zoe, and it was all Christian could do not to punch him. Good God. He was jealous. Pure and simple. He was now one of those guys, with the potential to punch another bloke out first and ask questions later.
“He’s such a spoilsport,” Sasha said. “Never lets me do a damn thing. Are you into ménage, darling?”
The toast fell to the tray. “Excuse me?”
Christian felt her body tense. “For God’s sake, Sasha, this is my wife.”
“Never stopped you before.”
She made a face. “You two—”
“Not with me, of course. He did that with—”Christian punched him in the arm. “What?”
“Alexander, you are not helping,” Christian ground out.
“I thought his name was Sasha?”
“Only when I like him.”
Sasha raised a brow. “I thought we were getting to know one another.”
“That’s called too much information, Alexander.” She set the tray to the side, then grabbed the glass of juice.
Sasha cupped his hands behind his head and shifted his hips from side to side. “This bed is actually quite comfortable. A lot of spring to help with—What now?”
“Out.” Christian pointed at the bedroom door.
