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And she tasted so good. Her mouth was hot and sweet and soft, and the lush curve of her lips fitted into his exactly like the pieces of a jigsaw. Holding his breath, he pulled her closer, kissing her back, gently teasing her lips apart with his tongue, pushing, probing, tasting her excitement, her hunger.
He heard her take a quick breath, like a gasp, almost as if she was drowning, and then she was swaying forward, her slender body pressing into the wall of his chest. He let go of the jacket and cupped her face with his hands, angling her head for a better fit. He deepened the kiss, back and forth, deeper and deeper, losing himself in the raggedness of her breath and the feel of her fingers biting into his arms.
It was as if all the jagged edges between them had softened. Everything was smooth and easy. And he was nothing but a man. A man who knew the rhythm of her body...the beat of her heart. All of her was close and warm—and his.
Letting his mouth slip down the pale arc of her throat, he felt his body grow harder as she moaned softly. And then her hands were in his hair, tangling, tightening, holding him captive, pulling him closer so that he almost lost his footing.
His heart running wild, he nudged her back towards the sofa, his knee between her thighs, and lowered her onto the cushions, his mouth still fused with hers, his hands moving beneath her body, lifting her closer, pressing her soft belly against the hardness of his erection.
Her dress had fallen away from her shoulder and he kissed the skin there, breathing in the scent of her beneath the perfume. Then he traced a path with his tongue to the soft mound of her breast, tugging the lacy bra aside to suck the stiff peak of her nipple into his mouth.
As she swallowed, deep in her throat, tiny shivers of fire and need darted over his skin and he groaned softly, lifting his face and moving lower to kiss the soft skin of her stomach, then lower still...
She arched against him, moving frantically and pulling at his shirt, her mouth seeking his blindly. And then he felt her hand press against the outline of his erection, and he was arching against her, his breath jerking. Her fingers were pulling at his waistband and, pulse quickening, he reached to help her, his hunger rolling through him like wildfire. He was close to losing control...
‘And you know how easy it is to lose one’s head in the heat of the moment.’Oscar’s voice was soft inside his head.‘Things got out of hand. It wasn’t intentional. She’s mortified.’
His body stilled, muscles tensing, and he shook his head as if that might expel Oscar’s malicious drawl. But he could still hear it, whispering at the margins of his mind, like a prompter in the wings.
‘Things got out of hand... She’s mortified.’
‘What is it?’
Dove was gazing up at him, her grey eyes huge and dazed, her mouth pinkly swollen from his feverish kisses.
‘Gabriel?’
Gritting his teeth, ignoring the huskiness in her voice and the protests of his body, he peeled himself away from the treacherous heat of her skin and got to his feet.
Breathing shakily, Dove stared at him in confusion. Her head was swimming, her body pulsing uncontrollably, her skin burning from the heat of his touch.
But Gabriel was no longer touching her.
He was standing with his back to her, and that in itself should have been a red flag.
But she wasn’t thinking straight. Glancing down at her dishevelled state, she felt her shoulders stiffen. Actually, her brain hadn’t been involved at all.
‘We should call it a night.’
She stared at his back, felt his words bouncing into one another inside her head, as random and ridiculous as bumper cars at a funfair.
‘Call it a night...?’ she echoed.
As he turned to face her, her skin jumped as if he’d touched her.
‘We start early tomorrow, and as this acquisition is so important to both of us it would be better if there are no distractions.’
Around her the sea and sky seemed to have merged, so that it felt as if she was surrounded by a never-ending darkness that was keeping everything else at bay.
‘And that’s what this was? A distraction.’
But how could that be true? It wasn’t possible to kiss someone like that—as if the world was about to end—and then just lose interest and walk away. Her heart felt as if it was in a vice. What was she talking about? She knew it was possible, and true, because Gabriel had done exactly that six years ago.
And now she had allowed him to do it all over again.
The realisation pierced her, slicing so deeply she felt as if she might double up.
‘After what happened in London it was clear to me that we both had something we needed to work out of our systems...’ He paused, and his blue gaze rested on her face, cool and distant as the exosphere. ‘And now we have. So, yes, this was a distraction. A necessary one. Because now we can concentrate on the job in hand. That’s what matters here.’
