0263249026 (R) by Bella Frances Read Free Book Online Page A

chuckle. Nodded seriously. ‘Oh, I do—I do.’
    But suddenly he was struck by just how close they’d come—how far they’d journeyed. How easily they could have lost this opportunity. How hard he needed to pursue her just to scratch this itch.
    He added quietly, ‘I think there’s more than luck at work here. It was always going to end this way with us.’
    The car moved slowly; the darkness loomed. Her heaving breaths answered him. Her skin looked silvery smooth, each slim arm still braced on his thighs. She was mesmerising.
    He grabbed a handful of silky hair and tugged her head back. He wanted to savour every second, to devour her, to linger over every moment like an eight-course, wine-matched gourmet meal—to swallow her whole.
    He met her mouth as she reached for his—succulent as watermelon, sweeter than syrup.
    He tasted. Lost himself. Scooped her like sauce onto his lap and let her soak against him.
    He sat back as she straddled him … as they went up in flames again.
    Seconds more and the car turned a corner, then stopped. They were here.
    He reached for the door handle, caught the flash of the driver’s eyes in the mirror, held her as he stepped out of the car and strode to the iron gates.
    Still dark, the straight path to the curved, domed entrance was softly illuminated with studs of light. His finest home. His proudest purchase. Every step proof of how far he had come from thieving street child to national hero. Normally he lingered, savoured. But not tonight. Tonight he marched with his treasure. Past the low sweet-scented bushes, the spiky-headed lavender and geometric box hedge. None of that mattered.
    He had waited for her. And now she was here. Right here in his city, in his house, in his arms.
    The heavy half-glazed door reflected them as they stepped up. She looked tiny, slight, and for a moment he remembered the girl she had been. So full of energy, so bold and uncompromising. She might have grown up, filled out slightly, but under her subtle make-up and silky hair and the well-cut dress, she was still that refreshingly natural, honest creature he’d first laid eyes on in that muddy lane.
    And finally he was going to take her in the way he hadlonged to take her. He could hardly bear any more heat at his groin right now. He was slightly out of control—he could feel it.
    His hand was steady as he pressed the keypad, but that was sheer force of will. The door swung open into the high domed entrance. Lamps glowed like sleepy sentries down the hallway. Palms bent their heads in welcome. Portraits calmly considered them. It was as if the whole house was waiting.
    He felt her step in beside him.
    ‘Mother of God, what a place …’ she breathed.
    She was turning three-sixty, gazing at the glass, the gilt, the marble, the grand sweep of carpeted stairs. But the normal flush of pride, the pause and then the proud history lesson, didn’t ease from his lips.
    ‘Upstairs,’ he said.
    He caught her as she turned back to him, hoisted her weightless body into his arms and strode to the stairs.
    ‘Oh, yes,’ she said.
    She didn’t lie back—not Frankie. She grabbed his head, tried to kiss him.
    It was the sheer force of the habit of climbing those stairs that got him to the top without missing a step. She was insatiable. He could hardly contain her as she slid her legs round his waist, held on to his head and licked and tongued her way across his face.
    He had to stop—couldn’t take another step with this erotic creature writhing all over him. He had to take her now. Here in the hall.
    In a heartbeat he’d scooped his arm up her spine, bent her backwards and laid her straight down on the floor. Her eyes flew open with the speed of his move, but the wicked flash of joy told him she was even more fired up.
    ‘You don’t want to take this slowly, do you, querida ? You haven’t got the patience.’
    ‘You can go slow with your blondes.’
    She blew in his ear, her hot breath sending him into a