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‘Daniel, I… There’s something I have to tell you,’ she said. She had to warn him; had to explain that she was not the sexy piece she seemed.
‘There’s nothing you have to tell me, beautiful,’ he said softly, pulling her round into his arms. ‘Tonight is my responsibility, not yours. You don’t have to do a thing. Just lie back and enjoy.’
His words brought a rush of relief, Charlotte realising that if she’d told him she was bad—or boring—in bed, everything would have been spoilt in advance. This way, she had a chance to become the wanton woman she was in her fantasies.
‘But I don’t think I should kiss you just yet,’ he said ruefully. ‘Better we get behind closed doors first.’
A shudder rippled down her spine. ‘Closed doors sounds good,’ she agreed. ‘Have you—er—got the passkey to the suite?’
‘Right here.’ And he patted his pocket.
‘Did you come up to see this particular suite before you booked it?’
‘No. Should I have? Is there something wrong with it?’
‘Not at all,’ Charlotte denied.
But he was in for a surprise. She hoped he liked it. She certainly had, despite being initially startled.
Daniel saw the gleam in her eyes and wondered what was waiting for him. Whatever it was, he was sure he would approve. Anything that pleased Charlotte this much would please him.
The Arabian Nights suite was the first one along the carpeted corridor, its name outlined in gold on the door. Shoving the plastic card into the lock, Daniel waited for the green light, turned the brass handle then pushed the rather heavy door open. The darkness inside was soon dispelled when he slid the card into the slot by the door, the lights coming on automatically.
‘Good God!’ he couldn’t help exclaiming.
‘You think it’s over-the-top?’ she asked, sounding disappointed by his reaction.
‘No, no, it’s fabulous.’
Her face beamed with more happiness than it had all night.
‘Come and see the rest,’ she said excitedly, taking his hand and pulling him across the black, marble-floored foyer and under a very ornate Moroccan-style archway. There, the marble gave way to thick, velvety red carpet that sank underfoot further than any carpet he’d ever encountered.
‘This carpet is amazing,’ he said. Just made for making love on.
And so were the sofas!
There were three of them. Low and wide and colourful, they were slightly curved, arranged around a circular, black-lacquered coffee-table on which rested a huge platter of fresh fruit, and a gilt ice bucket holding a magnum of champagne.
Beyond the sofas, curtains the colour of the water around Tahiti framed a floor-to-ceiling window that showed a panoramic view of the city skyline. There was no overhead lighting. Only lamps and wall lights. All gold. All exotic-looking.
‘Look up at the ceiling,’ she said.
His eyes moved up the deep blue walls to the very high ceiling above, which was draped in black silk shot with gold.
Wow. He now understood why this place had cost so much.
‘Fit for a sheikh,’ he remarked.
‘That’s the idea. It’s supposed to tap into people’s fantasies.’
‘Do you have a sheikh fantasy?’ he asked, reaching to pull her into his arms once more.
She gasped as their chests made contact. ‘Only if you’re the sheikh.’
He liked the sound of that.
‘So tell me,’ he murmured as he set about removing her tiara and veil, ‘how does that fantasy go?’
Charlotte shivered at the touch of his fingers in her hair.
‘You have your wicked way with me all night,’ she confessed breathlessly. ‘And I love every single moment.’
‘That’s not fantasy, my beautiful Charlotte. That’s going to be reality.’ He tossed her veil and tiara onto the nearest sofa, before suddenly quirking an eyebrow at her. ‘All night?’
‘See? I told you it was a fantasy.’
‘No, no. I’m sure I can rise to the challenge. But I have only limited protection with me. I will have to be inventive when they run out. Do you mind inventive, beautiful Charlotte?’
‘I don’t think I’d mind anything with you,’ she told him truthfully as her heart thundered behind her ribs.
Daniel suppressed a groan. There went his intentions to be a caring, considerate and conservative lover tonight.
Still, she clearly didn’t want a caring, considerate and conservative lover tonight. She wanted the sheikh fantasy, where the dark and dangerous desert prince carried her off by force, thereby wiping away any sense of shame or guilt if she just happened to enjoy herself. She wanted him to take total responsibility for what happened here tonight. She wanted him to play the sheikh.
Fine. He could do that. Especially here, in this incredibly erotic setting. He’d already glimpsed the bedroom through another archway and it made the exotic living room look almost sedate.
‘Come,’ he said in a masterful tone. ‘We shall retire to the boudoir.’
‘Wait till you see it!’
Daniel tried not to ooh and aah.
But talk about harem territory. This was full-on.
‘I’m sure honeymooners love it,’ Charlotte said with a nervous little laugh.
Not just honeymooners, Daniel thought as he looked from the raised, black-lacquered four-poster bed with its filmy white curtains up to the mirrored ceiling above. Once again, the carpet underfoot was lush and thick, though this time it was green. Emerald-green. Everything else in the room, however, was black, white or silver.
‘Lots of silver,’ he commented. The wallpaper was silver, and so were the edges of the mirrors, and the thread running through the white satin quilt. ‘I would have expected gold.’
‘The bathroom has gold fittings,’ she said. ‘To go with the black marble, I guess.’
‘They said it had a spa bath.’
‘Yes, a huge one.’ She flushed at the mention of the bath.
Surely not from shyness, Daniel reasoned. No woman who’d chosen the wedding dress she was wearing was shy about her body.
‘Good,’ he said.
Daniel decided any more delay would be counterproductive. ‘I think it’s time to check out that bathroom,’ he said, reaching for her. ‘But first, let’s get you out of that dress.’ And he turned her round.
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHARLOTTE sucked in sharply when his hands started work on the laces that anchored the bustier top to her body. Louise had tied them very tightly so that her waist was pulled in as far as it would go, the compression pushing her ribs in and her breasts upwards, giving her an extreme, hourglass shape.
She wore no bra. None had been needed, the top of her gown heavily boned and lined. Once Daniel got the laces undone, Charlotte knew that the top would fall from her body, leaving her naked from the waist up.
Just the thought turned her on.
She’d never been this eager to be naked before. Or to have a man’s hands on her body.
‘Aah, now I get it,’ Daniel said as the bodice went slack around her. ‘The top’s separate from the skirt.’
The freeing of her breasts from the skin-tight constriction brought with it a wave of melting heat. When he removed the top right away from her body, she swayed.
‘Hey!’ he said softly, his arms sliding around her just underneath her breasts. ‘Don’t go fainting on me.’
Her answer was a soft moan, her eyes fluttering shut as she leant back against him in blissful surrender.
When his hands moved upwards to cup her breasts she almost cried out, her nipples stabbing at the centre of his palms. As though he knew what they wanted, he spread his hands out flat and rotated his palms slowly over the taut peaks.
Charlotte gasped, then groaned.
He kept up the rotating motion till her breasts were swollen and her nipples so sensitive that the sensations he created were close to pain.
Just when she felt she could bear it no longer, he stopped. Perversely, she opened her mouth to protest. But before she could utter a word, he spun her in his arms and covered her mouth with his own.
His lips were hard, and hungry, his hands on her back just as demanding. He clamped her to him, kept her lips open and drove his tongue deep. Charlotte had thought he’d kissed her with passion in the lobby. But this…this was more than a kiss. This was total ravishment.
His reefing away both startled and dismayed her. Her eyes flew open to find him taking a backward step from her and running an agitated hand through his hair. His face was flushed and his breathing ragged.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.
He stared at her, before shaking his head, then smiling a rather wry smile.
‘I was going way too fast.’
‘But I liked you going fast.’
‘You wouldn’t in the end.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I know.’ He smiled another of those wry smiles. ‘Sheikhs know these things. Now I suggest you go get the rest of that dress off by yourself. Take a shower. And put on something more comfortable. Both our bags should be in the dressing room leading off from the bathroom. Or so I was told.’
Charlotte didn’t want to do any of those things. She wanted to stay with him and have him kiss her some more. And play with her some more, then just take her, without too much preamble. Her nipples were still hard but the rest of her body was in meltdown mode. She wanted him.
But she would not beg.
‘I won’t be long,’ she said, hurrying into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her.
The sight of herself in the huge vanity mirror was a shock. How decadent she looked standing there, half-naked. Spinning away, she hurried into the adjoining dressing room, where she stripped off the rest of her clothes, not returning to the bathroom till she was totally naked.
As she walked over to the vanity to get one of the complimentary shower caps, she glanced at herself in the mirror again.
Louise always said she had a fabulous body. Charlotte thought it was good, but not fabulous. Her hips were a bit wide. But she looked in proportion and she’d never felt ashamed of it.
But she’d been brought up in a modest household where you didn’t flaunt yourself. Being totally naked in front of anyone had always been a problem with her, but especially the opposite sex. Mostly, in the past, she would undress then dive into bed and keep under the sheets.
Charlotte had long ago realised her inhibitions were a contributing factor in the ultimate failure of all her relationships, especially the one with Dwayne.
Strangely, though, she did not feel any of her usual shyness with Daniel. She wanted him to see her naked. Wanted him to make love to her, to be inventive.
Her hands lifted to lightly touch her nipples, producing a delicious quiver. She did it again, then cupped her whole breasts as Daniel had.
Her responses rocked Charlotte. Daniel wasn’t even here and she was finding pleasure in her body.
Louise was right. This had to be lust, not love.
It was a liberating realisation, because she didn’t want to love Daniel. She did, however, want to make love with him.
The bathroom door suddenly opening behind her had her snatching her hands away from her still throbbing breasts and whirling round.
‘I didn’t hear the shower,’ Daniel said as he entered and walked towards her, seemingly unaware of being totally naked. Not so Charlotte. Her mouth went dry at the sight of him.
‘Why don’t we share?’ he asked, and with one smoothly sweeping action scooped her up into his arms.
Charlotte didn’t object. How could she? She was having enough trouble just breathing.
He held her with one hand whilst he turned on both taps in the made-for-two shower, adjusting the temperature and the shower heads till he was satisfied. Then he lowered her carefully to that spot where the two sprays met in the middle.
‘My hair,’ she did protest when the warm water started streaming down over her head.
‘Don’t worry about your hair,’ he commanded, and pulled her against him again, not quite so roughly as the last time. But there was still an intensity in his body language which Charlotte found incredibly exciting. She liked to think he wasn’t quite as cool as usual, that she had rattled him today.
She could feel his hardness pressed against her stomach, evoking wild images in her imagination.
‘Are we going to do it here?’ she asked him breathlessly.
He frowned down at her. ‘Do you want to?’
‘Yes.’
‘Hell, Charlotte.’
‘What?’
