could see the door he was leading her to, in the left-hand corner of the great room. The closer they got, the longer his strides became, until they were nodding at the footmen posted there and then slipping out into a corridor she didn’t recognise. Judging by the strong scent of food, she figured they had to be close to the palace kitchens.
They took a left into another long corridor, then another and another. Staff were everywhere, all bowing as they passed.
It wasn’t until they reached a fifth corridor, this one dimly lit, that they were completely alone.
Talos had her pinned to the wall so quickly there was no chance to draw breath.
His hands clasped her cheeks and his mouth crashed onto hers with a passion her starving body responded to immediately. His tongue swept across her lips, forcing them to part, then darted into her mouth, his resulting groan stoking the heat consuming her.
She responded with fire, cradling his head, returning the kiss with all the hunger that burned inside her for him.
No sooner had it started than he broke the kiss, keeping her pinned to the wall with his strength, his thumbs running in swirls over her cheeks, his brown eyes dark with intensity.
‘I have never been closer to ripping a woman’s dress off and taking her in public than I was in that ballroom,’ he said roughly.
A pulse ran through her, deliciously powerful. In answer, she nuzzled into his hand and kissed his palm.
He stepped back, trailing his fingers down her neck to the edge of her dress, his breathing heavy. ‘We’re almost at my apartment.’
They set off again to the end of the corridor, walking at a speed only a tiny rate below a run, until they came to a spiralling marble staircase with a heavy rope barrier across the base of it. Talos moved it swiftly, indicating for her to go up. At the top was a small passage with a door at the end and a small security box by the side. He punched in the code and the door swung open.
Lights came on with the motion and Amalie found herself in an enormous masculine living space, richly furnished with plump charcoal-coloured sofas against a backdrop of muted blues and creams. The room’s walls were covered in huge colourful paintings.
There was no time for looking with depth. Talos threw his jacket, sash and bow tie on the floor and guided her through the living area and into a bedroom dominated by the largest bed she’d ever seen—an enormous sleigh bed with intricate carvings.
On the wall opposite the door stood a floor-length mirror, edged with the same intricately carved wood. Catching sight of her reflection, she came to a stop.
Was that woman staring back at her with the flushed cheeks and wild eyes really her? Amalie? The woman who had formed a cosy life for herself while shying away from everything this man—this gorgeous man—was offering her? The man staring at her with a hunger she had only ever seen in films.
Transfixed, she watched as he stepped behind her, not touching her other than to place his hands on the tops of her arms. A small moan escaped her throat when he dropped a kiss in the arch of her neck.
Swaying lightly, she let her eyes flutter closed and sighed as his fingers swept across her shoulder blades and down her spine to rest at the top her dress.
Bending his head to kiss her ear and brush his lips lightly against her temple, he found and unfastened the hidden hook, then pinched the concealed zipper and slowly pulled it down, all the way to the base of her spine. His hands slid back up the exposed flesh to the top of the dress, then skimmed it assuredly down to her hips, exposing her bare breasts. When he released his hold on it the dress fell in a lazy whoosh to her feet, leaving her naked bar skimpy black knickers and gold shoes.
He wrapped an arm around her middle and held her against him, so she could lift her feet one at a time and step out of the vast amount of material. Talos kicked the dress away, then met her eyes in the reflection of the mirror, a dangerous, lustful glimmer in his stare.
Her chest thrust forward, almost begging for his touch.
The hand holding her so protectively brushed over her stomach and up her side, circling round her breasts to trace along her collarbone and up her neck to the base of her head. Slowly he worked at the elegant knot of her hair until he freed it, gently pulling it down to sprawl across her shoulders.
‘Have you had many lovers, little songbird?’ he asked, inhaling the scent of her hair.
Speech had deserted her; all she was capable of doing was shaking her head.
‘Have you had any lovers?’
The second shake of her head had more force behind it, but inside she reeled.
Was her virginity that obvious?
He must have read the question in her expression. ‘I am an expert at reading between lines,’ he said enigmatically, before twisting her round to face him. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip. ‘Why don’t we even things up and you undress me?’
With hands that trembled, she reached for the top button of his shirt, fumbled with it, then found some dexterity and undid it, then the next. Working quickly, aware of the heaviness of his breathing, she undid them all, then spread the shirt open. Not even conscious of what she was about to do, she pressed her lips to his chest and breathed him in, inhaling the muskiness that evoked thoughts of dark forests and adrenaline-filled danger.
His chest rose and swelled, his hand reaching into her hair and gathering it in his fingers.
Her fingers trailed down the thickening black hair to his abdomen and found the hook fastening his hand-stitched trousers. She swallowed as the palm of her hand felt the heat beneath. She unhooked it, but then her nerve deserted her. Suddenly a burst of sanity crashed through the lustful haze she’d been entranced in.
She’d never touched a man intimately before.
She wanted to touch Talos with a need bordering on desperation, but for the first time her virginity was something she was wholly aware of.
How could she be anything but a disappointment to him? A man as rampantly masculine as Talos would have had scores of lovers, all confident in their bodies and sexuality.
Talos felt Amalie’s hesitation, felt the fear creep through her.
His suspicions about her being a virgin had been right. He would have been more surprised to learn she’d had any lovers.
He didn’t care about her reasons for never having had a lover; cared only that at this moment she was here, with him, and that the crazy chemistry between them could be acted upon. Amalie wasn’t on the hunt for a relationship any more than he was; her comment about marriage only being a piece of paper had concurred with his own thoughts entirely.
But confirmation of her virginity did force him to take a deep breath and try to cool his ardour. All prior thoughts of simply discarding their clothes and falling into bed were gone. He needed to take it slow. He didn’t want to hurt her. By the time he made her his he wanted her so turned on but also relaxed, he could enter her without causing any pain.
Gently he twisted her back to face the mirror, placing an arm around her belly. Her eyes closed and her head rolled back to rest on his shoulder, her breath coming in tiny hitches. He could feel her heartbeat hammering with an identical rhythm to his own.
Moving quickly, he unzipped his trousers with his free hand and worked them off, deliberately keeping his boxers on so the temptation to plunge himself straight into her could be more easily denied.
Done, he pressed himself into the small of her back, felt her tremble, saw her lips part in a silent moan.
‘Open your eyes,’ he commanded quietly into her ear.
They fluttered open and met his gaze in the reflection of the mirror.
His fingers played on the lace of her knickers and then tugged them down, delighting to find the dark silky hair below. He dipped a finger into her heat and groaned