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She trembled slightly, but he could hear the uneven sound of her breath, could see the look in her eyes as she stared down at him. There was heat in the deep brown of her gaze, the strong flame of the passion she kept hidden behind her sharp little face.
A passion that set him on fire.
He leaned in as he slid his hands up the backs of her thighs, stroking her and making her shake, then he touched the lacy front of her panties, stroking the soft heat of her until the fabric became damp and the scent of her arousal filled his senses.
He held her gaze as he pulled aside the fabric before covering her with his mouth, tasting her. She jerked in his grip, letting out a gasp, her hands coming to his shoulders and holding on for dear life. Her gaze turned dark and even smokier than it already was, her cheeks turning a deep rose.
Beautiful little fox.
He took her to the edge of pleasure and then tipped her over it, the taste of her sweet and musky in his mouth, her cries loud in his ears. Then as she was still trembling through the aftershocks, he rose to his feet and pushed her against the wall. He undid his fly, slid one hand beneath her thigh and hauled it up around his waist, dealt with the protection, positioned himself and thrust hard into her hot, slick sex.
She cried out, her hips lifting against his, clutching at him as he moved, hard and deep and fast, losing himself in the sweet grip of her body around his sex, in the sounds she made, in the scent of her everywhere around him.
Her like this would be a memory he would treasure for ever.
He wanted to make it last, wanted for this to be something she’d remember for ever too, but he was too desperate, and in the end he had to slip a hand between her thighs, stroking her until the sound of her climax echoed in his ears.
And then he followed her, losing himself in the dizzying rush of pleasure for just a few moments.
Yet real life was always going to intrude and it intruded now, rushing back on him, weighing him down, crushing him.
He didn’t want to make this choice, but he had to. The only way he could continue his mission effectively was to detach himself fully from the intensity of his own emotions. And he couldn’t do that with Glory around.
He would have to end this and quickly.
CHAPTER TEN
GLORYWASBARELYaware of anything as Castor smoothed her gown over her shaking thighs, then adjusted his own clothing. Her heart was beating far too fast and the throb between her legs was an aching reminder of what had just happened between them.
Without a word, he took her hand and led them out of the room, moving fast down the corridor and out of the gallery.
She found the lights blinding, still processing the stunning effects of the orgasm he’d given her as he pulled her down the steps. His hand was strong and warm in hers, and it was a good thing he knew what he was doing, because she was still dazed.
The limo was waiting for them and soon they were both inside and pulling away into the late-night Parisian traffic. And it was only then that Glory began to process what was going on, because something was.
First he’d kissed her like he was desperate, and then he’d pushed her into an empty room. And when she’d asked him what was going on, he hadn’t answered her. Only made love to her as if his life depended on it.
She didn’t understand.
‘Castor?’ Her voice sounded a bit rough and scratchy. ‘What’s wrong?’
He was sitting opposite her in the limo, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped. His attention was on the floor, the expression on his beautiful face shuttered.
He was silent for a long moment, then without looking up he said, ‘I have to return to the States tomorrow. Some pressing work issues have come up.’
Her stomach lurched with a disappointment she tried to tell herself she didn’t feel, because of course their time together had always been limited. This couldn’t go on for ever. ‘Okay. So are you going to tell me—?’
‘You can stay in France as long as you wish. My staff will be at your complete disposal.’
She stared at his shuttered face. He’d been so desperate back there in that room, holding onto her tightly, as if he’d been afraid she’d slip away from him.
Or as if that was the last time...
A thread of ice wound through her. She didn’t want to ask, but she had to know.
‘Is this it?’ Her voice sounded hoarse. ‘Is this the end? Is this goodbye?’
He lifted his head, his amber gaze gone suddenly cold, as if there was a sheet of glass between them. ‘Give some thought as to where you want to live as my wife. I’ll have my property manager give you a list of suitable properties. There’s a place in the Hollywood Hills you might like. Or if you’d prefer the east coast, I have a penthouse in New York that will suit.’
