‘It seems like the ball is going well,’ Sierra said as they swayed to the music. ‘Are you pleased?’
‘Very pleased. The hotel is booked solid for the next three months. That’s in part because of you.’
‘A very small part,’ Sierra answered. ‘You’re the one who put in all the hard work. I’m proud of you, Marco.’ She smiled shyly. ‘I know you told me how much your job meant to you, but I realised why tonight. You’re good at this. You were meant for this.’
Marco didn’t speak for a few seconds; a muscle flickered in his jaw and he seemed to struggle with some emotion. ‘Thank you,’ he said finally. ‘That means a great to deal to me.’
The song ended and another one began, and neither Marco nor Sierra moved from the dance floor. She felt as if she could stay here for ever, or at least until Marco finally, thankfully took her upstairs.
‘You are the most beautiful woman in the world tonight.’ Marco’s voice was low, his tone too sincere for her to argue with.
‘As long as you think so,’ Sierra murmured.
His eyes blazed for a second, thrilling her, and he pulled her even closer to him. ‘Do you mean that?’
‘Yes,’ she said simply. After everything that had happened, everything he’d made her feel, she knew there could be no dissembling.
Marco drew a shuddering, steadying breath and eased her a little bit away from him as he smiled wryly. ‘I don’t want to disgrace myself here.’
She smiled, the curve of her lips coy. ‘Then disgrace yourself upstairs.’
Regret flashed across his features like a streak of pain. ‘We can’t leave the ball yet.’
‘Do you have to stay to the end?’ Some of the socialites and celebrities seemed ready to party until dawn.
‘No,’ Marco answered firmly. ‘And even if I needed to, I wouldn’t. I can’t last that long without touching you, Sierra. Without being inside you.’
The huskily spoken words sent a spear of pure pleasure knifing through her. ‘Good.’
Marco shook his head. ‘Keep looking at me like that and I really won’t last.’
‘How am I looking?’ Sierra asked with deliberate innocence.
‘Like that.’ He pulled her closer again. ‘Like you want to eat me.’
‘Maybe I do.’ A blush pinkened her cheeks but she held his heated gaze. She could hardly believe the audacity of her words, and yet she meant them. Utterly.
Marco groaned softly. ‘Do you enjoy torturing me?’
‘Yes,’ she answered with a shameless smile. ‘It’s payback for the way you tortured me this morning.’
His gaze swept over her body. ‘That was torture for me, as well. Sweet, sweet torture.’
She felt as if she could melt beneath the heat of his gaze. Or maybe combust. She’d felt an intense excitement spiralling up inside her from the moment Marco had taken her onto the dance floor, and it was overwhelming now. The need for him was a physical craving, so fierce and wonderful she was helpless to its demand.
Her tongue shot out and dampened her lips as she gave him a look of complete yearning. ‘Marco...’
‘We’re going,’ Marco bit out. ‘Now.’ His long, lean fingers encircled her wrist as he led her purposefully from the dance floor.
In any other circumstance Sierra would have baulked at being led from the ballroom like a sulky schoolgirl or a flagrant harlot. Now the need was too much to feel even a twinge of embarrassment or anger. She just wanted to get upstairs fast.
Marco muttered a few words to one of his staff standing by the door, and then they were out in the hall, the air cool on Sierra’s heated cheeks. A few guests loitering there shot them speculative looks, but Marco ignored them all. He stabbed the button for the penthouse lift and Sierra held her breath until the doors opened and Marco pulled her inside.
THE LIFT DOORS had barely closed before Marco pulled Sierra to him, her breasts colliding with his chest as his mouth came down hard on hers. He couldn’t have waited another moment, not even one second, to touch her, and the feel of her lips on his wasn’t the water in the desert he’d thought it would be; it was a match to the flame, igniting his need all the more.
He backed her up against the wall of the lift, his mouth plundering hers as his hands fisted in her hair. Diamond-tipped pins scattered across the floor of the lift with a tinkling sound. Marco couldn’t get enough of her. He moved his hands from her hair to her hips, yanking up a satiny fistful of her dress, needing to touch her skin.
He found the curve of her neck with his mouth and sucked gently, his desire knifing inside him as Sierra groaned aloud.
‘You’ll ruin the dress...’ she gasped.
‘I’ll buy you another. I’ll buy you a dozen, a hundred others.’
The doors pinged open and Marco stumbled backwards into the penthouse, pulling Sierra with him. She came with him, laughing and breathless, clutching his shirt as she tried to pull it away from his cummerbund.
‘I need to see you,’ Marco said. He tugged at the zip at the back of her dress. ‘Now.’ He tugged harder at the zip and the dress slithered off her, leaving her in nothing but a scrap of lace pants. Marco inhaled sharply at the sight of her pale golden perfection, the lights from the city gleaming on her smooth skin.
She stepped out of the dress, chin lifted, smile shy, wearing nothing but lace and stiletto heels. Marco had never seen a more magnificent sight.
‘This feels a bit unequal,’ she said with a little uncertain laugh. ‘I’m in my birthday suit and you’re completely dressed.’
He spread his arms wide. ‘Then maybe you should do something about it.’
‘Maybe I should.’ She stepped closer to him so he could breathe in the lemon scent of her hair; it had come undone from the pins he’d pulled out in the lift and lay in twists and curls about her shoulders. She pursed her lips slightly as she fumbled with the studs on his shirt; her breasts grazed his chest every time she moved.
Finally she’d managed to release the studs; she tossed them aside with a breathless laugh and then tugged his shirt out from his cummerbund and parted it, smoothing her hands along his chest. Marco closed his eyes, his breath hissing between his teeth. It amazed him how profoundly her touch affected him. He’d been with plenty of women over the years, gorgeous women with experience and expertise and plenty of confidence, but Sierra’s hesitant touch reduced all those women to a pale memory.
‘You’re very beautiful,’ she whispered, and tugged his shirt off his body before undoing the laces of his cummerbund. He wore only his trousers now, and he saw the hesitation in Sierra’s face and wondered what she’d do about it. Sometimes she seemed so innocent and inexperienced he wondered how many lovers she’d actually had. But it wasn’t a train of thought he enjoyed dwelling on, and so he made himself stop thinking about it. It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that she was with him now.
‘Well?’ He arched an eyebrow, his mouth curving in a salacious smile. ‘I’m not naked yet.’
‘I know.’ She laughed again, a soft, breathy sound, and then tugged his trousers down. Marco kicked them off his feet, and followed with his shoes and socks. Now all he wore was a pair of navy silk boxers and his arousal was all too evident.
Sierra’s gaze darted up to him and she licked her lips. Marco groaned. Then she reached out a hand and touched his shaft through his boxers, her fingers questing uncertainly