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Surprise shot through her, making her drop her hand. ‘You knew?’
He smiled and brought his nose down to nuzzle hers. ‘It’s an effective tool. I’ve always found it difficult to think straight when your hands are on me.’
Heat seared through her belly and flooded her whole being until she felt engulfed by it. When his lips lowered an extra half-inch to capture hers in a blistering kiss, she gave in to a desire that left her gasping for breath afterwards.
By the time he lifted his head, her senses were swimming. She closed her eyes for several seconds to regain her equilibrium. When she finally opened them, he was striding towards the right wing of a spectacular sweeping staircase.
Finally looking around, Reiko caught her first glimpse of the interior of Château Fortier.
Thick walls were decorated with portraits of past Fortiers, interspersed with stunning pieces of art and antiquities. Masterpieces dotted the hallway, and at the base of each staircase two French marble busts stood in complete prominence.
He made it to the top of the stairs and turned down the east corridor. Antique leather trunks dotted the hallway, and above her exquisitely cut crystal chandeliers set into vaulted ceilings gleamed and sparkled.
The suite Damion entered was the last word in luxury. The blue-and-gold décor was impossibly beautiful and followed the magnificently warm yet stunningly extravagant theme of Château Fortier. A huge sleigh bed stood on a dias, and had an honest-to-goodness intricately designed canopy that fed an endless curtain of white muslin around the bed.
Her gasp of appreciation drew Damion’s attention. ‘You like it?’ he asked.
‘What’s not to like? It’s completely breathtaking. I’m almost too scared to touch anything in case I break it.’
He set her down, but kept his arms around her. ‘Objects can be replaced. Your comfort is what’s important.’ He leaned down and kissed her forehead. ‘But if you get too scared, feel free to knock on my door. I’m right through there.’ He nodded towards a connecting door on the far side of the room.
The sensation that shot through her had nothing to with the stiffness in her body and everything to do with the way this man made her feel on a constant basis.
The knowledge that he was stepping up his campaign to get her into his bed should have frightened her, but all Reiko felt was an inferno-like desire raging through her, loosening the notch on her control a little more.
Would it hurt just to take this one last opportunity to be with him?
Yes!
Desperately, she tried to scramble back control. ‘That probably won’t be necessary. I don’t spook that easily.’
He pulled her close until her breasts touched his chest. Her nipples peaked and by the catch in his breath she knew he’d felt them.
‘I’d advise you to keep the door locked, then. I may not be able to help myself.’ He took her mouth again, this time deepening the kiss with a bold stroke of his tongue.
Reiko whimpered as desire scoured through her. At the back of her mind she called herself ten kinds of fool for giving in to this dangerously heady situation. But when it came to Damion her willpower had always been pathetically deficient.
By the time he stepped back and sucked in a deep breath, she was ready to throw caution to the wind, consequences be damned.
The dark stamp of desire on his face told its own lust-ramping story. ‘I need to get out of here. Tell me to get out of here, Reiko.’
She licked tingling lips, fighting the need to say the opposite. ‘Get out of here, Damion.’
He gave a harsh sigh, took another step back and thrust his fingers through his hair. ‘Get your swimsuit and meet me downstairs in five minutes.’
‘Where are we going?’
An enigmatic smile crossed his lips. ‘I have a surprise for you.’ His gaze dropped to her feet. ‘And wear sensible shoes.’ With that, he turned and left the room.
For several seconds, she remained where she stood, her senses crashing like an addict on a downward spiral. Damion seemed to have taken the very air and vitality of life with him, leaving her craving and desperate.
Catching herself standing there like a lovelorn fairytale maiden, she forced herself to move. But as she caught a glimpse of a gilt-edged, intricately designed mirror she knew was from the boudoir of a French empress, she couldn’t help but feel that she was in a fairytale. Every ornament, rug and painting was embroidered in the rich tapestry of history. History that would be here long after she had passed through.
Long after Damion had installed his chosen wife in the château and sired countless babies and she was
but a distant memory.
Pain roused her from her lethargy. Firming her lips, she moved past the bed towards a door she rightly guessed to be the dressing room.
