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She shrugged. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Play Angry Birds on your computer?’
‘I’ve never found mindless computer games a particularly good use of my time,’ he responded acidly.
‘Maybe you make a few phone calls before lunch?’
The look he threw her was cool and assessing. ‘So, essentially, what you’re saying is that you think my days are composed of indulgence and eating?’
Roxy’s skin grew heated—but what woman wouldn’t get all hot and bothered if Titus Alexander was staring at them like that? And maybe he had a point. He didn’t look a bit like a man who spent his life being indulgent—in fact, he looked more like someone who did hard, physical labour from dawn to dusk.
‘I guess that was a pretty poor assessment,’ she said slowly.
‘I think perhaps it was. Maybe I should enlighten you by telling you how I’ve spent my days recently, Roxanne.’ His gaze was steady but his breathing was not, as he realised exactly what he was about to do. ‘You see, contrary to what the grooms say, I’ve actually been waking later than usual.’
‘Oh, dear. Perhaps your alarm clock needs replacing?’
‘I don’t usually need an alarm clock. But then I don’t usually spend my nights tossing and turning and being unable to get one thing out of my mind.’
‘It’s true what they say,’ she said seriously. ‘That the more you think about not being able to sleep, the more elusive it becomes.’
‘I’m not talking about my damned sleep!’
‘I’m sorry, Titus—but you most definitely were.’
Frustrated by the verbal games they seemed to be playing, he reached out and caught hold of her. He pulled her right up against him and gazed down into her widened blue eyes, feeling the hard heat at his groin and the unsteady thunder of his heart. ‘I’m talking about you,’ he grated. ‘Yes, you. Because I can’t seem to get you out of my head, Roxanne—no matter what I do.’
His eyes were blazing and Roxy’s mouth dried as she felt the heat of his body next to hers. ‘But I thought I wasn’t your type,’ she objected. ‘And you’re definitely not mine.’
He gave a hard smile. ‘Are you sure about that?’
‘Quite sure.’
‘Liar,’ he said softly, and kissed her.
It was like putting a match to dry tinder—more instant and predictable than anything she could ever have anticipated. Roxy’s lips opened like a clam as he slid his tongue inside her mouth and snaked his hands possessively around her waist. And suddenly he was kissing her as she’d never been kissed before. Through the powerful burst of pleasure, Roxy felt momentarily dazed. It felt like the lyrics to all those songs Justina had written, the ones Roxy used to sing without really believing. The ones about bells ringing and angels singing and feeling as if you’d just stepped onto a merry-go-round which was going so fast you that wondered if you’d ever get off again. But who would want to get off something which felt as incredible as this? Who wouldn’t want to prolong each precious, glorious second?
His hands began to skate down over her body. She could feel his fingers splaying hungrily over her breasts. She was conscious of the tight thrust of her nipples as they strained against her pink overall and she moaned against his mouth.
Titus heard her breathy little gasp and suddenly he forgot where he was or who he was. He forgot his timetable and plans for the day. All he could think about was Roxanne Carmichael and the tantalising prospect of having quick and urgent sex with her. Savagely, he snapped open the poppers of her pink overall, slipping his hand underneath her sweater to feel the puckering nipple beneath her bra. He pictured it in all its cherry-tipped glory and felt her wild shudder in response to the flick of his thumb over the peaking mound.
‘Roxanne,’ he shuddered.
‘Titus.’ She said his name like a plea, especially as he had just moved his hand down and was sliding it up beneath her uniform. Up her legs, and over her thighs and …
‘I want you,’ he ground out as his hand cupped the moist panty-covered core of her femininity. ‘I don’t want to wait a second longer. I already feel like I’ve been waiting an eternity to do this. I want to lay you right down there on that rug and to unzip myself and to—’
She sensed rather than heard the profanity which was hovering on his lips and which was halted by the distant sound of footsteps clacking their way towards them. For a moment they both froze, before Roxy pushed his hand away from her knickers and shrank away from him in horror.
‘It’s Vanessa!’ she hissed, tugging down her sweater and swiftly doing up her overall.
‘Stay there,’ he instructed curtly, painfully aware of the erotic scent of her sex which had permeated the air around them. ‘Don’t go anywhere.’
Where else did he think she was going to go? Rush up to greet the hous
ekeeper with her uniform gaping open and her sweater all rucked up, her movements slightly jerky and awkward because she was so aroused? She thought how composed he looked as he ran his fingers through his thick, tawny hair and began to walk towards the entrance to the gallery. She could see the housekeeper approaching, with a rather odd smile pinned to her lips.
‘Your Grace,’ she said formally.
‘Ah, Vanessa,’ he said imperturbably. ‘I do hope I haven’t interfered with your schedule—but it was Roxanne’s lunch break and I’d promised that I’d show her the paintings.’ He glanced over at the picture of the woman standing in front of the mirror and then slanted Roxy a conspiratorial look, a faint smile curving his lips as he took in her flushed cheeks and bright eyes. ‘She seems to have taken rather a shine to the Rubens.’
