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Those kisses. The heat of them. The way he'd parted her entered her mouth with his tongue. The memory made her tremble. Made her breasts ache. her feel hot, and wet.

She swallowed convulsively. What she'd wanted had happened. She wondered now why she'd wanted it. What did it prove, that she could excite a man, or that she could have an orgasm? That she could—color flooded her face—that she could have one with a stranger. With an arrogant, overbearing, dangerous stranger...

"Princess?"

She sprang away from the sink. The doorknob jiggled, and she stared at it as if it were a rattlesnake that had come crawling up from the canyon floor.

"Yes?" Good. Her voice was cool and self-assured. It didn't match the face of the stranger in the mirror, but Travis didn't have to know that. "I, uh, I'm going to shower. There's another bathroom next door that you can—"

The door swung open.

"Showering alone can be dangerous, Alex."

He smiled into her eyes as he clasped her shoulders and looked at her, his gaze slow and steamy as it moved the length of her body. Carl had never looked at her like this. His eyes had never darkened with desire; just watching his face had never made her weak with longing.

"Don't," she whispered, while heat rose in her cheeks.

"Don't what? Look at you?" Travis's eyes met hers. "I want to look at you, Princess. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

"No." She put her arms over her breasts. "Travis. I'm—I'm—"

Embarrassed. She was embarrassed. The realization stunned him but he knew he was right. It was a long time since he'd seen a woman do anything but preen under a man's admiring gaze but he was seeing embarrassment now. Alex was blushing, and looking down at her toes.

"Princess." Gently, he put his hand under her chin, tilting her face up to his. "You're beautiful. And I'm the luckiest man in the world, to be able to see you like this." Her smile trembled. "Really?"

Was her world full of bozos? Or was she searching for compliments? A woman this lovely had to know it. "Yes. Really."

She smiled again; the shadows seemed to fade from her eyes but there was still a hint of vulnerability in the soft curve of her mouth. Suddenly, he remembered how she'd reacted to some of his kisses and caresses, how she'd cried not only with pleasure but with what might have been surprise at the things he'd done.

He told himself that it was ridiculous to imagine Alexandra Thorpe had found something new in his arms. He'd come into the bathroom wanting her with a hunger their hours of lovemaking had not diminished, imagining what it would be like to take her in the shower, with the water streaming over them.

And he would do that. . .but not now. Now, something else seemed far more important.

"Travis?" Alex said, as he swung her into his arms. He silenced her with a kiss.

"Let me show you how beautiful you truly are, Princess," he murmured, and he carried her back to bed, where he kissed her everywhere, savored each sigh and moan. Where he made slow, tender love to her until, at last, she wept with happiness, in his arms.

CHAPTER SIX

HAPPINESS was fleeting.

Alex had known that all her life. But it had never vanished as swiftly as it did now, in the aftermath of Travis's lovemaking.

Her heartbeat slowed. Joy was replaced by despair, and despair by disgust.

She'd just shared endless acts of incredible intimacy with a man she didn't know. What was there to be happy about?

Yes, Travis had made her feel things. His touch had been—it had been everything she'd ever let herself dream a lover's touch might be. Passionate yet tender. Demanding as well as giving. Exciting. Oh, yes, above all else, exciting.

But the man in whose arms she lay wasn't her lover. He was someone she'd bought. There was no getting around that ugly truth.

How? Alex thought, while self-loathing became panic, how could she have done this? She knew she was an anomaly in this age of sexual awareness. She'd gone to her marriage bed a virgin, eager to experience the passion she'd read about. Instead, she'd found sex with her husband was something to be endured. Not painful, not necessarily unpleasant ... it was just that she'd expected ecstasy and experienced nothing.

Sometimes—and she'd always felt the guilt of it—sometimes, even as Carl rose above her, she'd found herself thinking about the next day's chores.

Alex bit back a moan of dismay. And yet, she'd cried out in Travis's arms. Her mind had emptied of everything except awareness of what he was doing, of the feel of his hands and mouth, the hardness of his body, the slow, drugging heat of his kisses.

The kisses of a stranger. Of a man she'd bought.

How? she thought frantically. How could this have happened? Had she gone out of her mind? She was a fastidious woman. She prided herself on her self-control. She never acted impulsively or foolishly about anything—especially men. And yet she'd gone to that auction, bought a stranger and let him—let him...

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