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Angelina sighed drowsily again, a sound of pure joy. Pure contentment. She wanted to stay like this forever...remembering. But before she knew it, she’d fallen asleep.

* * *

Alec woke first. He eased himself away, then lay on his side, his head propped up on one hand, watching Angelina sleep. Loving the sight of her, so sleep-and sex-tousled. Her face rosy and satisfied. She’d been perturbed at first that he’d brought condoms with him. As if he’d known they would become lovers tonight. As if he’d planned it.

But then he’d told her in all honesty, “I’ve been carrying condoms with me since the first day I kissed you. Not because I planned to seduce you, but because I would never put you at risk. I wanted to be ready if you ever said yes.” Then he’d laughed softly, deep in his throat. “Not that I didn’t want to make love to you—even before I kissed you. Remember when we met at the airport?”

She’d nodded and he’d told her, “I saw you watching me. There was just something about you, something that said, ‘Touch me and die.’” He’d laughed again. “Okay, so you were a challenge, and I could never resist a challenge. But it wasn’t just that. Everything you said, everything you did—even taking me down the day we went jogging—told me, ‘This woman is unique. She would understand.’”

She hadn’t asked him, “Understand what?” But if she had, he’d have told her at least some of what he was thinking. Even if she wasn’t ready to hear it yet.

He and Angelina were dynamite together in bed. He’d imagined they would be, but the reality put even his dreams to shame. She was so giving. Not just in what she was willing to do to and for him—although that had been an eye-opening revelation—but the trust she’d given him. Letting go of her inhibitions. Letting him know how vulnerable she was—but only with him. Letting him see how much she enjoyed everything he did to her.

It was an incredible turn-on to know he was the one giving her so much unbearable pleasure, and making her cry out his name. Knowing, too, he was the first man to tap the vein of intense sexuality that ran so deep in her, so carefully hidden from the rest of the world. God, would he ever get enough of her?

She still pushes all your buttons, Jones. She always will. Just admit it.

That was certainly true. But even as he acknowledged the truth of that statement, he acknowledged another truth—an unpalatable one. Unless he figured out a way to keep Angelina without destroying either her career or his—something that would destroy them—any button pushing in the future would have to be done long-distance.

Chapter 8

Angelina woke late—too late to go for her normal morning run—having had maybe four hours of sleep total. But the lack of sleep didn’t bother her; she’d never felt better in her life, despite the lingering awareness between her legs that made walking to the bathroom a gingery effort after she slipped quietly from the bed so as not to waken Alec.

The shower tempted her. She needed one after last night...and this morning. She wasn’t even going to count how many times she’d climaxed, although the number ten stood out in big bold letters in her mind for some reason. Not every time had been cataclysmic—but even when she’d told Alec, “I cannot,” they’d both known she could...and did.

She no sooner stepped under the hot spray when the shower curtain was jerked open and a big male body joined hers, taking up more than his share of the available space, crowding her deliberately. Taking possession of her body as if he had the right. Which he does, she acknowledged to herself. She’d given him that right. Just as he’d given her the right to take possession of his body, which she was quick to do now. Stroking. Fondling. Then standing on tiptoe to fit him at the apex of her thighs.

“Don’t, Angel,” he said at last, but his refusal was halfhearted. “I need to be at the embassy in less than an hour, and I still have to go back to my apartment and change. I can’t show up at work wearing—” She tightened her legs deliberately and he groaned deep in his throat. “Oh God, Angel. Not now. I—”

A tiny corner of her mind told her she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t resist. She slid to her knees in front of him, holding his erection in her hands and taking him into her mouth. Alec managed to turn the water off and brace himself against the shower tiles, but that was the last conscious movement he made until she’d wrung a shuddering orgasm from him.

When she finally let him go, stood and turned the water back on to wash both of them, he growled, “You’re a witch, you know that?”

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