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“You remembered,” he said with a nod of approval.

“My retention level is very high.” At the moment, it was their night in Rome she was remembering, especially his unique style of lovemaking. It had her heart beating a little faster.

“That’s good to know.” Something in his look suggested he was remembering, too. “But as I was saying, one of my long-ago ancestors apparently had a dislike for wasted steps. Hence he had the architect include a hidden staircase in his design, linking the master bedroom and the library.”

Laura made another quick scan of the room and guessed, “The bookshelves flanking the fireplace—one of them is the door.”

“The one on the right,” Sebastian confirmed.

“That hidden staircase wouldn’t have anything to do with your reason for selecting this room for me, would it?” She eyed him with the full expectation that his answer would be in the affirmative.

Sebastian chose to neither confirm nor deny that. “It does facilitate privacy for late-night visits. Don’t you agree?” He stood close but made no move to touch her. His failure to touch her only served to make her doubly aware of the scant inches that separated them.

“Do you make a habit of assigning your female guests to this room?” she challenged.

“Only the very attractive ones.” He trailed his fingertips along the shoulder seam of her dress, following its line to the curve of her neck. Her skin tingled under the lightness of the contact. It was as if every inch of her body became sensitized.

“Why does that not surprise me?” Laura murmured, aware that her voice had become breathy.

“Aren’t you going to ask how many women have occupied this room before you?” His fingertips lightly explored the pulsing vein in her neck, following it to the lobe of her ear.

She had a catlike urge to rub her cheek against his palm to encourage the fullness of his caress. “How many?” She all but purred the question.

“As it happens, you’re the first.”

“You don’t really expect me to believe that, do you?” She showed her skepticism.

“If you’ll recall, I did say I put only the very attractive ones in this room—and you are the first who qualified.”

“Flatterer,” she chided, her eyelids fluttering half-closed as his fingers made a slow track up to her cheekbone and down her cheek to the co

rner of her lips.

“It’s no flattery. You are incredibly beautiful,” Sebastian stated, then added in a musing tone. “Perhaps the portrait is to blame for it, but I have the distinct feeling that you have always been a part of my life. It’s difficult to believe we met only a few nights ago in Rome.”

“But it was a very memorable night.” Laura was conscious of her whole body straining toward him, wanting his touch. When his fingertips lightly brushed over the curve of her lower lip, need trembled through her. “Do you always tantalize a girl like this?” she said in protest.

“Considering you just came from another man’s arms, I thought you might need time to adjust to the idea of going into another’s,” he replied smoothly.

“Were you watching us through some secret peephole?” In truth, she was more amused than outraged at the possibility.

“No.” His mouth crooked. “It’s much more elementary than that. Standing this close, I can smell his cologne on your skin. It has a heavy citrusy scent that’s a bit overpowering.”

A smile grooved little dimples in her cheeks. “Your middle name must be Sherlock. Sebastian Sherlock Dunshill.”

“It definitely has a ring to it.”

“Indeed it does,” Laura agreed and tipped her head in an age-old invitation. “In case you’re wondering, I have adjusted to the idea. Will you kiss me now?”

“With pleasure.” But it was nothing he rushed as his mouth made a slow descent to her lips and moved over them in a sensual delving of their softness.

It was a lazy heat that started low and gradually engulfed her. His arms encircled her, his hands molding her to his shape, demonstrating how perfectly a man and woman could fit together. When his hand cupped the underside of her breast, desire swelled within her.

All the while there was the magic of his drugging kisses—on her lips, her neck, her cheek, and back to her lips again. Laura had a rational moment to marvel that lovemaking could be so beautiful. Beautiful and rapturous, without haste or demand, just an endless giving of pleasure. She only knew she never wanted it to end.

The light tap-tap-tap at her door barely registered. Then Tara’s muffled voice intruded. “Laura. It’s Tara. May I come in?”

The request was immediately followed by a turning of the doorknob. Sebastian’s hands gripped her shoulders and set her away from him as the door swung open and Tara walked in.

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