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‘That was one moment of madness that will never be repeated,’ he said seriously.
‘So you are suppressing yourself.’
‘I have to.’
Pulling gently at the dark hairs on his chest, she said, ‘If you really intend to stick to this life for the long-term then you need to find a way to channel your boredom. Otherwise you’re just a caged tiger.’
‘Better a caged tiger than a wild tiger causing more damage to the institution I was born in and the family I love.’
‘I get that, but you need to find a way to take the edge off your boredom and accept your life as it is rather than fight it, or you’re going to make yourself miserable. Look at me—I’ve lived on my own for six years. Sometimes I get a little lonely so I’ve learned to stave it off at the head with loud music or adrenaline-filled films or comedy TV shows. Plus I always have my dogs to cuddle up to. Et voilà, my loneliness is banished!’
Dio, he hated to think of her being lonely. Hated to think of her taking steps to mitigate the loneliness. Clara was too vibrant to live such a solitary life.
Before he could get his thoughts in order, she sat up and, with a flexibility that astounded him, straddled him. A spark of mischief flickered in her eyes. ‘I know what will bring some excitement into your life.’
‘Oh, yes?’ He covered a breast and squeezed gently. ‘And what’s that?’
‘Driving lessons.’
He groaned. ‘That, I fear, will be too much excitement. And of the wrong kind.’
She grinned wickedly. Writhing lower, she licked his navel. ‘Then let’s see if I can give you some excitement of the right kind.’
Clara couldn’t stop checking her make-up for smudges. She was minutes away from meeting her imminent in-laws and wanted to make a good first impression. It really mattered to her, which was why she’d insisted on getting ready in her own room rather than Marcelo’s, where she’d spent most of the past week holed up. It was for his sake that she wanted the evening to go well. She imagined it would be awkward for him and make for an uncomfortable atmosphere if his parents hated her.
A knock on her door cut through the music blasting out.
‘Come in,’ she yelled, grabbing her phone to turn the volume down.
Marcelo strode into the room, freshly showered and dressed in a white shirt, navy waistcoat and charcoal trousers. One look was enough for her heart to catch in her throat and her pulses to accelerate.
It made her laugh to think she’d scorned those men in Marcelo’s helicopter for taking seriously her words about women becoming nymphomaniacs once they’d had sex as she was seriously wondering if she’d turned into a nymphomaniac. Because sex was literally all she could think of. Sex with Marcelo.
Who’d have thought that she, Clara Sinclair, would fall head first into lust? It was the most delicious feeling, but also quite scary because there was no rationale behind it...unless you considered that Marcelo was the sexiest man to walk the planet and then it became the most rational thing on earth.
Which was why she’d insisted on getting ready on her own. She simply didn’t trust herself not to get distracted by his gorgeous face and fabulous body.
Tonight, if only for a few hours, she was determined not to think about sex.
But only for a few hours. Sex with Marcelo was far too joyous to willingly deprive herself of it. Once they were married they’d have to take on official royal duties and have much less private time together, so she figured she might as well make the most of it while she could. He was clearly of the same mind, and she relished that this hunk of a man couldn’t keep his hands off her.
‘How are you getting on?’ he asked, stepping over to her. ‘Nearly ready?’
‘I think so. As ready as I’ll ever be. How do I look?’ She’d selected a pair of blowsy muted yellow trousers, pairing them with a cream silk blouse with black polka dots and a matching silk scarf, topping the outfit off with a pair of the highest, most fabulous red heels she’d ever worn. With no beauty team to work their magic on her that night, she’d spent an age on her hair, twisting it into a side knot, then an even greater age on her make-up. She’d completed the look with a pair of diamond drop earrings.
He put his hands on her hips and studied her with that sensuous intensity she so adored. ‘You look beautiful.’
She hastily pushed his hands away and stepped back. ‘Please don’t touch me or you’ll make me want to have sex, but thank you. Do I look presentable enough for your parents?’
He folded his arms across his powerful chest and fixed her with a lascivious stare. ‘You look good enough to eat, but if you mention wanting to have sex again I can’t guarantee you’ll still look presentable.’
Even his words were enough to make her insides clench in a heated throb. She took another step back. ‘Please, don’t. This is important to me.’
His stance softened. ‘You sound nervous.’
‘I am nervous. What if your parents don’t like me?’ Then she shrugged and answered her own question. ‘I don’t suppose it matters, does it? It’s not as if they’re going to be stuck with me for long.’
He breathed in deeply, a strange look forming in his eyes. ‘I don’t know how anyone could find you anything but adorable.’
