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‘Sorry, but I had to stop,’ he said.
She just stared at him, her heartbeat still haywire. ‘You’re cruel,’ she said shakily.
‘Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind. I didn’t have a condom with me and I was close to losing control. For some reason kissing you does that to me,’ he said and reached out to run a single fingertip over her still-burning mouth. ‘I suspect you have some secret aphrodisiac in this red lipstick you always wear.’
She couldn’t speak, all her attention on that tantalising fingertip.
His eyes darkened on her, aware no doubt of the extent of her desire.
‘Come,’ he said, this time taking her arm more gently.
Alex guided her across a wide entrance hall and into a huge living room which was beautifully appointed, filled with glass and white leather furniture which shouted money. The floors were all grey marble tiles, but the rugs were thick, soft and more colourful. The artwork on the walls were probably originals, not the framed prints which graced her own flat.
‘This way,’ he said, leading her past a semi-circular shaped alcove in which sat a circular glass dining table beautifully set for two, with elegant silver placemats and tall candles just waiting to be lit.
‘That’s for dinner later,’ he told her, perhaps noting the direction of her eyes.
‘It looks lovely.’ She hadn’t expected anything so romantic.
‘I’ve ordered a meal to be delivered at ten from a local restaurant. And there’s two bottles of chilled white wine waiting for you in the fridge.’
‘You’ve thought of everything,’ she said, taken aback by his thoughtful attention to detail.
‘I try to please. I would have been showered and properly attired if my passion for you hadn’t got the better of me. But while I was waiting for you to arrive, I realised I could kill two birds with one stone.’
‘Sorry. I’m not following you.’
‘You will. This way...’
He took her down a tiled hallway and into the master bedroom, which was large, spacious and thankfully nothing like a playboy’s bedroom, other than the fact that the bed was king-sized. The floor was covered in a lush cream carpet, the furniture made in a dark wood, the furnishings in various shades of cream and brown. She loved the brass-based bedside lamps with their stylish cream shades and the gorgeous tapestry which hung above the bedhead. It was a park scene—Parisian, since it had the Eiffel Tower in the background. The colours were glorious.
‘I love that tapestry,’ she said as he led her past it.
‘It’s a recent purchase. An investment, really. I don’t put my money in stock and shares. I prefer property. And art.’
Harriet couldn’t afford to invest in art. But at least she did have her flat, which had already doubled in value since she’d bought it.
‘In here,’ he directed and guided her into an en suite bathroom which had to be seen to be believed. It was larger than her bedroom with a modern toilet and bidet, a sunken spa bath, a double vanity and a shower stall built for two. Or possibly three. But it wasn’t any of those things which made her gasp. It was the candles which were dotted around the bath, all lit and giving out the most incredible vanilla fragrance.
‘Did you do this for me?’ she asked, amazed and touched.
His smile was warm, soft and faintly apologetic. ‘I wanted to make it up to you for being a bit of a bastard last Monday. All I can say in my defence is that I knew I wouldn’t be able to get all the work done that I needed to do before I went away if I started meeting up with you. And making love to you. And not getting any sleep. As it was, I didn’t sleep all that well anyway, despite working my butt off in the gym every evening. All I could think about was you, Harry.’
‘Oh...’ she said, in danger of melting into a puddle. ‘I...I didn’t sleep very well, either.’
His smile was slow, sexy and incredibly arousing. ‘That’s nice to know,’ he said as he turned on the bath taps, adjusted the temperature, then tipped in what looked like bubble bath. ‘Can you wait a bit longer?’ he asked her as he turned back to face her.
‘What? Yes. No. Yes, I...I suppose so.’
‘Good. Now I’m going to take off all your clothes.’
‘What?’
‘Don’t think about it. Just let me do it.’
She didn’t think about it, and she let him do it, dazed by the feeling of blissful helplessness which took possession of her as he slowly removed each item of clothing. First came her jacket, which he folded and placed on the vanity counter top. Her blouse followed, then her bra.
