there was no way she could hold out any longer. If all he wanted from her was the sort of uncomplicated friendship he had offered all those years before, then that was what she would give him.
Besides, she knew that she was incapable of resisting the temptation to finally be able to be closer to him, physically at least, than she had ever been before, to hold him against her, just this once, offering what comfort she could until he fell asleep and was too deeply unconscious to be aware of her slipping from his side and returning to her own bed.
Just this once, she told herself as she lifted the corner of the blankets and slid in beside him. What harm could it do?
CHAPTER THREE
FROM the first second, Natalie knew she had made a terrible mistake.
She had promised herself that she would simply wait until Pierce was deeply asleep, and then she would go, but in the moment that she felt the warm length of his strong body against hers it was as if the heat of his skin had seeped into every cell in her body, softening bone and muscle and draining her of any strength, any ability to move.
Each time her mind told her that she should go, that Pierce was oblivious to her presence, that there was no way he would notice if she left, she found that her limbs had no strength to move, that they were weighed down by a sensual lassitude that had nothing to do with any concern about disturbing the man at her side.
Just one more minute, she told herself, glorying in the soft warmth of his breath on her neck, the slide of the black silk of his hair against her cheek. One of her arms lay around his shoulders, tinglingly aware of the power of the muscles under the satin skin, the rough texture of the dark, curling hair on his chest, and it was all that she could do to stop her fingers from wandering further, exploring the lean strength so close to her, the long legs touching her own.
Just one more minute; that was all she wanted. One more minute to lie like this, drawing in the musky male scent of his body, hearing the faint sound of his breathing, feeling the way his chest rose and fell. This might be all she would ever have of him, all she would ever know of the physical pleasure of being close. It was probably her one and only chance ever to hold him, and the memories she was storing up tonight would have to last her for the rest of her life.
Just one more minute...
She wasn’t aware of falling asleep, knew nothing more until, some time in the dark stillness of the night, she stirred at last, surfacing slowly to become conscious of some restriction to her movement, instinctively tensing against it, straining to be free, then freezing again as the warm restraint tightened, holding her still.
‘No,’ said a voice in her ear, the lazy drawl having an unyielding edge to it that sent a shiver of apprehension running down her spine. ‘Stay right where you are.’
Pierce’s voice, and Pierce’s arms were holding her captive.
‘But—’ Her throat was dry, making her voice weak and croaking.
‘Shh.’
It shivered across her skin, making her twist in uncontrollable response, a small cry of shock escaping her as the unwary movement brought her slender legs into intimate contact with the hair-roughened length of his. The next moment, that cry was cut short by the soft pressure of Pierce’s mouth on hers in a swift, gentle caress that made all her senses spring to life, knotting her nerves with the immediate intensity of her response.
‘This is nice—very nice indeed.’
In the dim light, Natalie could see that Pierce’s eyes were barely open, and the dreamy, unfocused sound of his voice made her heart skip a beat at the thought that perhaps he wasn’t really awake, that possibly he was still tangled in dreams, thinking she was someone else—and there was only one person that could be.
She didn’t know what would happen, what, if anything, might result from the situation in which she now found herself, but she was sure of one thing. She couldn’t bear to be mistaken for the fiancée Pierce had loved and lost; it would tear her heart into pieces.
‘Pierce...’
What little there was of her voice died in her throat as his hands moved over her, stroking, moulding the shape of her body under the soft cotton of her nightdress, lingering heart-stoppingly at her breasts and hips.
‘You never used to feel like this before.’ His voice was still blurred and thick.
‘That was because we never used to do this sort of thing.’
‘How very foolish,’ Pierce murmured. ‘Foolish—and very wasteful.’
‘Pierce...’ Natalie tried again.
‘We should have, you know.’ His lips were on hers, the words whispered against the softness of her mouth. ‘Should have done this a long time ago. We’ve wasted an appalling amount of time, you and I.’
Trying to control her reactions didn’t work. Already her wayward body was responding, opening to him like a flower to the sun. As she moved against him, she felt the force of his desire pressing into the softness of her stomach, triggering a heated reaction deep inside her.
She was weakening—no, not weakening—she had never had the strength to resist Pierce from the start. This was why she had always kept her distance physically—because she had known from the outset, from the moment that that searing sexual awareness had burned away her innocent hao-worship, replacing it with something much more complex and dangerous, that if he was ever to touch her it would be like this. She had known she would never be able to fight him—and she couldn’t now—but she couldn’t have any doubts—she had to know for certain.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Never been surer,’ that husky voice assured her. ‘We wasted a lot of time in the past, but not now...’
Warm lips slid up the pale length of her throat, across her cheek, capturing her mouth again in the same moment that his caressing hands reached the hem of the blue nightdress, easing it upwards, his fingers burning a scorching path to the aching sensitivity of her breasts. When he moulded them softly, the heat of his palms against her skin made her writhe in unrestrained delight.
‘You used to be such a little girl—but now you’re all woman.’
Natalie drew in her breath in sharp delight, her back arching in immediate response as the soft warmth of his hands closed over her sensitised flesh, sending shafts of pleasure through her whole body, heating the blood in her veins.
‘The sort of woman any man would want...’ The words were punctuated by tiny, sharply teasing bites that made her lower body jerk in instinctive response. ‘And here you are—with me...’
‘Pierce...’
She wasn’t even aware of whether she had actually formed his name as a coherent sound, knowing only that she was sinking deeper and deeper, hot waters of desire closing over her head, very definitely going down for the third time—and yet she had to know.
‘Pierce—’
‘Hush, Natalie,’ that soft voice soothed, and at the sound of her own name every nerve in her body clenched on a wave of pure joy.
He knew. Pierce had spoken her name so that she could be in no doubt that he knew very clearly just who she was. She needed no further convincing that it was her—Natalie—and not Phillippa he was making love to. She knew it, and, more importantly, Pierce knew it too, the thought bringing such a rush of happiness that only physical action could express it.
And so, acting on instincts she hadn’t known she possessed, instincts that must have been inherent in her as a woman, handed down from the dawn of time, from Eve herself, because she certainly had no experience on which to base them, she reached for Pierce, linking her hands in the soft hair at the nape of his neck and pulling his head down towards hers so that their mouths met.
The explosion of need deep within her was instantaneous, softening her lips under