Gemini Heat by Portia Da Costa Read Free Book Online

too; long and almond-shaped, slanting up at the outer corners and slightly hooded at the inner. She knew his middle name was Kazuto, but she'd not expected his Japanese-ness to be so physically apparent.
    The total effect was shocking. He'd first locked himself into her fantasy then visibly deviated from it.
    Suddenly she felt lost. Out on a limb. Adrift in a strange sexual land where the signposts were rapidly disintegrating.
    'Didn't you realise I wore glasses?' he enquired, blinking once as if to emphasise the exotic submarine brilliance of his gaze, 'I wear them for reading. And I've just been reading your file, Dee. Very carefully.'
    'Why?' she asked, unable to disguise her stare, and wondering why on earth he kept calling her 'Dee'. The company personnel files were fairly comprehensive, but to her knowledge they'd never listed nicknames. There was something very weird going on here, she decided, but faced with the living embodiment of her dreams, she felt powerless to shape proper questions.
    But he was more than the dreams. And different . . . He had all the beauty that was de rigueur for a sexual fantasy, but had the Prince had that thin white scar on his forehead? Had his hair been so long it needed tying back in a pony-tail like that? These new variations only made him more alluring, though, and he was as erotic in a two thousand guinea business suit as he'd been in his rampant nakedness. Even as she watched him, he threw back his head and laughed at her question. His brown throat was a long bare elegant line emerging from his sparkling white collar and Delia could've wept at her aching urge to kiss it.
    'Why?' he repeated, reaching out and pressing his cool fingers on her cheek, 'Because I want you, Dee. I'm intrigued by you. You're exactly like your file, and yet you're a complete surprise too. It's like being with two different women.'
    As his fingertips skated slowly across her cheek and jaw, then on and boldly down into the long, steep vee of her neckline, a bright, flashing light popped on in Delia's mind. A hazard warning beacon.
    Deana! The erotica exhibition! Last night! Of course! De Guile had been at his own art show . . . and he'd met Deana.
    And now he was touching her, Delia, like this. Talking to her intimately. Indecently. What had Deana said, for heaven's sake? What had she done?
    But as Jackson Kazuto de Guile began unfastening his Divisional Admin Manager's severe suit jacket, the answer was obvious. He was undressing her now because he had last night. Or he believed he had.
    Choices and emotions whirled in Delia's brain as the sensations roiled in her body. The sensible, rational side of her said 'tell him now!' Explain it all now before he strips you naked and you can't turn back.
    But then another voice spoke up. A louder voice. The voice of her senses and her dreams. The voice of her yearning sex.
    He's mine! it cried. He's mine, Deana, and you've stolen him! Goddamn you, sister, he's mine and I want him back!
    It wasn't sensible and it wasn't rational. But as de Guile's clever fingers flicked open her jacket buttons, Delia's own hands rose up to help him.
    Sanity made one last rally, 'Mr de Guile, please,' she panted as he pulled open the dark lapels of her suit and exposed her lace-encased breasts.
    '"Jake" ... I told you, it's "Jake",' he said, locking his navy blue eyes with her pleading grey ones. He cupped her breasts and kneaded them with a roughness that made her gasp but was exactly what she wanted. 'My God, Dee, you're lovely! I had to leave last night, but I wanted to stay. I woke up this morning and the first thing I thought about was your body. I had to touch myself because I couldn't touch you! I brought myself off imagining how your breasts would feel and look when I made them naked. Remembering what it felt like to slide myself into your luscious flesh. How wet and hot and ready you were. I went crazy wondering how you'd taste ... Do you realise something, Dee? I haven't even