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‘Yes.’
He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lips quirked in a wicked smirk. Then she gave in to the impossible urge to rock against him. His eyes darkened to the colour of storm clouds before hail.
‘You getting any warmer?’ The words ground out of him as if he were battling for control. She was about to boil, as he cupped the back of her head and drew her to him, capturing her mouth, his free hand sliding up her thigh under the skirt of her dress. He brushed his thumb back and forth over her panties and she moaned.
‘Much better than tea,’ he murmured against her lips as she gave in to the burn of her body, chasing the sensation bearing down on her. ‘That’s it. I love you like this. Hot. Wet. Mine.’
His.
It should bother her. It really should. But if it troubled her enough she’d have to stop, and she couldn’t. The feeling that she was melting like candle wax all over him was too delicious. Especially because she was there, almost there.
A bell softly chimed in the distance, or maybe it was in her head. She wouldn’t be surprised if a chorus of angels started singing, this man brought her so close to heaven. She didn’t care as their kisses deepened and he began unbuttoning the top of her dress with fervent fingers.
‘Sir!’
She paused. Was that George’s voice? She’d never heard him raise it.
‘I won’t be denied!’
Sara scrambled away from Lance as the protestations came closer. She knew that second voice, although she could hardly believe he was here.
‘What the hell?’ Lance muttered, adjusting himself and drawing the bodice of her dress together.
The door to the parlour smacked open as her brother stormed in, followed by Lance’s butler, looking ready for a fight.
Lance straightened, all the heat bleeding out of him, replaced by something lazy and dangerous. The predator was back, and right now his gaze was fixed on someone Sara had never expected to see here.
‘Really, George, why do people insist on disturbing us? Can’t a man be the king in his own castle?’
‘Your Grace, this man barged in. Would you like me to call the police?’
Her brother Heinrich stood stiff and to attention just inside the doorway.
Lance shook his head and waved in Heinrich’s direction as if he were merely an annoying fly.
‘Come back in five minutes. We could all probably do with more tea.’ Then he glanced at her. ‘Or, dare I say, a stiff brandy.’
George raised his eyebrows but backed out of the room and closed the door behind him. Sara clutched at the front of her dress, realising that in her haste she’d fastened the buttons in the wrong buttonholes. Her brother noticed. His scowl deepened.
He poked his finger towards Lance as if trying to punch a hole in the air. ‘You!’
‘Lance...’ She tried to take a breath to calm herself, because the tremble of desire had been replaced by one of fear. ‘This is my brother—’
‘I know who it is.’ Lance turned to her, his voice low, his eyes narrow and cold. Then he whipped back round to her brother, striding forwards with his hand out as if it was perfectly normal for Heinrich to be barging into their home. It was a complete change of demeanour.
‘Hans! What a pleasure to greet you today as my brother-in-law-to-be.’
‘Heinrich!’her brother hissed, looking at Lance’s hand as if it were a snake and not a peace offering. He didn’t reach out his own.
Lance ignored the slight, the disdain flicked off him as if it were water brushed away by wipers on a windscreen. Although, by the look of him, it wasn’t peace he sought, standing tall and stiff with his jaw clenched.
‘Henry, of course.’ Lance turned to her and winked, his grin cocky and devilish. Heinrich’s colour deepened to a shade of angry purple. Sara couldn’t see what on earth was funny about this. Her brother had been trained in the military, an officer in Lauritania’s small but efficient army. There was always a sense of suppressed violence about him, not so suppressed today.
‘You’re coming home, Sara.’Heinrich spoke in Lauritanian. It was an insult when Lance stood in the room. She refused to have a conversation with her brother that Lance couldn’t understand.
‘I don’t think so. Since she’s engaged to me,’ Lance replied before she could say anything. He spoke Lauritanian? Her eyes widened and so did her brother’s. ‘Sara, I know I’ve never whispered sweet nothings to you in your native tongue. I was leaving that surprise to our wedding night.’
‘Never.’ Heinrich strode forwards, slashing his hand through the air like a knife. She flinched. The way he looked at her, as if she were dust on his shoe and he was disappointed the polished leather was soiled. ‘He will never marry you. It’s all false.’
