she’d never felt as tempted to do exactly what she said she wouldn’t in her life before.
His sinful lips curved into that devilish smile and a blush stained her cheeks. ‘You don’t like kissing?’
Not particularly, but that wasn’t the point, was it? ‘I don’t kiss strangers.’
‘But I’m not the stranger here; you are,’ he pointed out. ‘And fortunately I have no such reservations.’
His tone was teasing but she sensed his hunger in the coiled strength of his body and the heat that radiated from every pore. The earlier image of a wolf about to pounce returned. This time it was definitely hungry and she was in its crosshairs. Rather than scare her as it probably should, it sent another thrill of sensation down her spine. She shuddered with unexpected anticipation and of course he noticed, his blue eyes darkening, his nostrils flaring slightly with his next breath.
Something exciting and wickedly enticing wound between them.
‘Come with me,’ he invited huskily. ‘I get the impression that your life could do with a little excitement in it.’
She wanted to deny it but his assessment was so accurate she couldn’t. Every hour of her day was usually accounted for with paperwork or meetings and she rarely took time out to just have fun. A roar of laughter from nearby guests broke into her reverie as if to drive the point home.
Those serious doubts she’d had about going ahead with her plan returned tenfold.
Prince Rafaele was much more lethally male and charismatic than she had anticipated, and the blatantly sexual way he looked at her awoke every one of her senses. She hadn’t expected him to have such an uncontrollable edge beneath the civility of his custom-made tuxedo but it was there—primal and dangerous and totally untameable.
‘Come,’ he coaxed once more, his hand raised towards her. ‘Take my hand.’
It was more command than invitation, the silken gravel of his tone making her forget that her future was on the line this weekend. Making her forget how much she had at stake: the ability to fulfil her royal duty to Berenia her way.
Against all rational thought, Alexa gave into temptation and placed her hand in his, allowing him to lead her through a solid door and into a beautiful, softly lit reading room. Glancing around, she noted that it was empty, the soft furnishings and gauzy curtains in the windows giving the room an odd sense of intimacy that was heightened when she heard the door click closed behind her.
‘I’m not sure this is wise,’ she said, knowing by the wild hammering of her heart that it definitely wasn’t.
He grinned with mischievous intent. ‘Probably not.’
Completely absorbed by the animal grace of his stride as he pushed away from the door and came towards her, Alexa was unprepared for him to invade her personal space and bumped the low table behind her as she unconsciously retreated.
Fortunately, he caught her around the waist, his fingertips spanning her hipbones with blatant possession.
‘Your Highness!’ Alexa exclaimed on a breathless rush, her mind as unbalanced as her body. ‘I told you I’m not—’
‘Kissing me. I know.’ His head lowered to hers, the warmth of his lips ghosting across the line of her jaw as he inhaled her scent deep into his lungs.
A shiver of awareness bolted down Alexa’s spine, turning her knees to water. Her hands flattened against his hard chest as if to hold herself steady, her senses logging the hard heat of his body and the strong beat of his heart through the thick fabric of his jacket.
Despite her four-inch heels, their height difference put her only at eye level with his chiselled mouth and she couldn’t look away, her fingers curling of their own accord into his dinner jacket.
The prince’s hands firmed on her hips. ‘You’ve got exactly three seconds to step out of my arms before I kiss you properly.’
His tone was low and husky with need and Alexa flushed as an answering need flooded her lower body with silken heat. Completely out of her depth, her knees almost too weak to hold her upright, she leant against him in a move that perfectly signalled her desires to a man well versed in reading the play.
‘I’m pretty sure that’s five,’ he murmured, his head bending as his mouth found hers. This kiss was firm, warm, his lips capturing hers with consummate skill and drawing a response from her she didn’t even know she had in her to give.
When she didn’t resist a soft groan left his mouth and one of his hands rose to cup the nape of her neck, his body moulding to hers as he took control of her very will.
Alexa knew she shouldn’t be doing this but she couldn’t seem to organise her thoughts when the desire to taste him was so strong. The prince’s heat and scent surrounded her and soaked into her, his mouth driving out any thought of resisting.
‘That’s it, sweetheart,’ he whispered, ‘open for me.’
Having never been kissed with such carnal expertise, Alexa felt a rush of burning heat as his tongue entered her mouth and licked at her own. The unexpected eroticism of the move made her hands grip his shoulders, her body arching towards his, seeking more. Craving more.
The sensations were so wickedly enticing that when his fingers curved around one of her breasts she moaned, no longer concerned with what she was here to do. This was all that mattered. This man’s mouth fused with hers, his hands caressing her all over and making her burn.
She slid her fingers into his hair, tugging him closer, and he groaned again, his hands moving lower to cup her bottom and bring her in closer against his body, his callused palms snagging on the tiny crystals covering her dress.
‘You taste like honey and nectar,’ he murmured, his lips trailing a heated line along her jaw towards her ear.
‘You taste like heat and mint,’ she panted, her neck arching to accommodate his lips, her nipples painfully tight against the fabric of her dress.
He laughed huskily as if she delighted him. It was quite the aphrodisiac after her previous sexual encounter had obliterated her burgeoning self-confidence.
‘Come upstairs with me.’ The Prince’s kisses continued down her neck and she felt him shudder as he gently bit down on the tendons that joined her shoulder. ‘I can’t take you here; we’ll get caught.’
Alexa didn’t know which part of that statement permeated her stunned senses more, but suddenly her hands were firm on the hard balls of his biceps as she pushed him back. Memories of her teenage mistake tumbled into the space between them, tripping up her thoughts as she fought to draw oxygen into her lungs and clear the haze from her brain. ‘We can’t… I’m not… Let me go!’
As soon as the words were out he released her, his chest heaving like bellows as his breath rasped in and out of his lungs.
His dark hair was in disarray around his shoulders and she realised with a mortified groan that her fingers must have done that.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘What’s wrong?’ Her eyes widened at his ridiculous question. ‘We nearly… I just… I didn’t come in here for that.’
Struggling to even out his breathing as much as she was, the Prince’s brows drew together. ‘Why did you come in here then?’
Still experiencing the drugging after-effects of being in his arms, Alexa blurted out the first thing that came into her head. ‘I came in here to ask you to marry me.’
‘YOU SHOULD HAVE gone with that as your opening line, sweetheart,’ Prince Rafaele drawled. ‘It would have smothered the chemistry between us faster than a Santarian sandstorm.’