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Rico spread his fingers across her hip, each lean digit creating a burn even through her dress as if he were branding her by his touch. She was so achingly conscious of every part of him, from the hard planes of his chest and thighs to the sure movement of his mouth and the delightful press of his hands. He was everywhere on her, yet she still wanted more, a delicious and insistent ache of need starting at her centre and spreading outwards, right to her fingertips.
She felt so much,she was afraid she might combust, burst into flames right in front of him. How did people experience this and live?
Then, quite suddenly, Rico tore his mouth from hers and took a step away, raking his hands through his hair before dropping them to his sides. Colour blazed along his blade-like cheekbones and his breathing was ragged. He was, it seemed, as affected as she was, or almost, and that was an incredible thought.
Halina’s knees wobbled and she grabbed onto a nearby table to steady herself. She felt the absence of him like a physical thing, everything in her all at once turning empty, cold and aching. For a little while she’d felt so gloriously alive. She couldn’t let it end so quickly. She couldn’t let it end at all.
Because she knew then, no matter how inexperienced and nervous she was, she wanted more. Needed it. She wasn’t done with Rico...and she prayed he wasn’t done with her.
* * *
Rico gazed at Lina thoughtfully, trying to ignore the hectic thud of his own heart. He’d been far more affected by her clumsy kisses than he liked to admit, even to himself. Even in love-making, in the highest heights of his pleasure, he kept his control. To lose it would be another form of weakness, one he despised. He would not be a slave to any emotion, whether it was love or its poorer but equally powerful cousin, lust. He’d decided that a long time ago, when he’d watched someone walk away from him and felt his heart break. Never again. Never again would he allow someone to break something inside him. He wouldn’t even allow himself to be affected...at all. Never would he give in to the weakest emotion of them all, the torment of love.
And as for Lina... He let his gaze sweep over her, noting her flushed cheeks and swollen lips, her ink-dark, wavy hair falling in tumbling waves over her shoulders. Her breath shuddered through her, and artlessly she pressed one hand to her pounding heart. She was just as affected as he was, and she wasn’t even trying to hide it. He didn’t think it had even occurred to her to hide it, to hide anything, and that made her very different from the women he usually bedded.
Those women were beautiful and hard in a sharply glittering way, as determined to get his money as much as they were eager to get into his bed. He gave them pleasure, of that he was certain, but they didn’t respond as Lina just had—trembling and eager, unrestrained and artless, seeming to crave him just for him...which was an intoxicant in and of itself.
‘What is it?’ she asked, her voice a breathy whisper. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’
‘How am I looking at you?’
‘As if I’m a puzzle you’re trying to solve.’
He laughed; he couldn’t help himself. She was absolutely right and he wasn’t used to that kind of perception, especially from a potential bed partner. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘That is how I’m looking at you. You intrigue me, Lina.’ More than she should. He didn’t want to be interested in the women he bedded, beyond their capabilities in that particular department.
Yet something about Lina, her utterly unrestrained response, made him pause. And then wonder. Because, he realised, she seemed the one thing he felt he’d never been, at least not since he’d been nine years old and realised that promises could be broken and dreams shattered. Easily.
What had given him pause just now was that Lina seemed innocent. And innocence was a quality in his bed partners he definitely did not want. He’d had enough dreams broken not to want to break anyone else’s, which was why he was so upfront about his relationships, if he could even call the sexual transactions he enjoyed such a thing.
‘I don’t think I’m that complicated, really,’ she said on a laugh, but the sound wobbled and she bit her lip, increasing Rico’s curiosity...and his unease. Why was she acting as if this was all so new to her?
‘Tell me what you were doing tonight at the party,’ he said abruptly. Her eyes widened in surprise at the sudden change of subject.
‘Trying to get into it,’ she answered with a shrug. ‘I didn’t have an invitation, as you realised.’
‘Do you do that often? Try to crash parties you aren’t invited to?’
‘Not...that often,’ Halina said, keeping his gaze, but clearly with effort.
‘But why that party?’ Rico pressed. ‘And why did you want to get into it so badly?’
A frown crinkled her forehead and something flashed in her eyes, something like unease. She was hiding something. But what? He’d already assumed she was a gold-digging mistress-in-expectation. What could she possibly be hiding that would bother him?
‘Why not that party?’ she challenged. ‘It looked fun.’
‘Were you hoping to meet someone in particular?’
She shrugged. ‘I was hoping to have fun.’
Rico swung away from her, annoyed as much with himself for pressing the point as he was with her for her non-answers. What did he care why she’d shown up tonight or what her motives were? What did he care at all? He never had before. And he wouldn’t now.
She was here in his suite for a reason. When she’d kissed him, as clumsily as she had, it had been with a genuine, eager desire. She was willing and so was he. That was all that mattered, surely?
And yet...it was almost as if she’d never been kissed before. She’d been so unrestrained, so open, and it had been that seeming innocence that had enflamed him. Yet surely she couldn’t be as innocent as all that? Surely she wouldn’t be in his suite now if she was?
‘I’ve drunk all my champagne.’
Rico turned to see Lina clutching her glass, a determined tilt to her chin. She held it out and after a second’s pause he reached for the bottle and poured her another glass, the fizz foaming over the top and onto her hand. She laughed and licked off the droplets, a move that seemed as thoughtless and uncomplicated as everything else she did. If it had been another woman, the kind of woman he was used to, he would have thought it a planned part of an attempt to ensnare him. Not that he could ever be ensnared.
‘Cin cin,’ she said again, a note of defiant bravado in her voice, and she lifted her glass to drink. Rico watched her, noting the sinuous movement of her throat as she swallowed, wondering yet again what was making him hesitate.
‘Cin cin,’ he answered automatically, even though he’d discarded his glass already. Slowly Lina lowered her glass, her eyes wide and dark above the rim as she stared at him.
‘I... I should probably go now,’ she said, and that surprised him even more. Was she playing hard to get? Or did she really mean it? And should he let her, considering how uneasy this whole exchange was making him feel? He felt strangely reluctant to watch her walk away, which was irritating and alarming in itself.
‘Do you want to go?’ he asked starkly.
She paused, her tongue darting out to dab a drop of champagne sparkling on her lips. Her gaze was wondering and transfixed as she slowly, so slowly, shook her head. ‘No...no, I don’t. But I probably should.’
‘Should? Why?’
‘Because you’re a dangerous man, Rico Falcone.’ She set the glass on a side table. ‘And you’re way out of my league.’
More honesty that took him by surprise. He wasn’t used to such unvarnished truth. ‘I’m not so dangerous if you know what to expect.’
‘Which is?’
‘A wonderful time and then a farewell.’ He was absolute about that. He would never be left again, never watch someone walk away, leaving his heart in pieces. No, he would watch whomever it was walk away, a smile on his face because he was in control. He was always in control.
‘Ah.’ She nodded slowly. ‘Just like the women said.’
‘Those women in the bathroom?’
‘The very same.’
He walked towards her, a long, loose-limbed, lazy stroll. ‘Forewarned is forearmed, or so they say.’
‘They said you kicked women out of your bed in rather indecent haste.’
‘I suppose it depends on whom you ask.’
He stood in front of her so he could feel the heat coming off her, the desire. Her body trembled. He felt as if they were both on the edge of a glorious precipice; all it would take was for one of them to take that first tumbling step.
‘I really should go.’ Her voice was soft.
‘Don’t play games with me, Lina.’ He met her gaze; her lids were half-lowered in dark challenge. ‘I abhor any kind of dishonesty. If you want to go, go.’ He swept one arm towards the lift. She didn’t move, and if she had he didn’t know what he would have done. Stopped her? Persuaded her to stay in any way that he could? Maybe. Probably.
But Lina stayed still, her gaze darting from the lift back to him. ‘This is madness,’ she whispered.
‘Why?’
‘Because...because I don’t even know you. And you don’t know me.’
‘We know enough.’
‘For you, maybe.’ She closed her eyes briefly. He had the sense that she was battling with herself, and he wondered why it was such a momentous decision. She’d come to the party. She’d come upstairs. Was she going to cling to some outdated remnant of morality now? Still, it felt bizarrely important not to push her. This would be a decision she’d make on her own, though God help them both if she walked away now.
Then Lina opened her eyes. Stared him straight in the face. Took a deep breath and spoke. ‘I’m staying.’
CHAPTER THREE (#u25903b74-613e-52d6-b4bd-82f4a7b4e6b0)
HALINA WASN’T SO innocent that she didn’t know what she was agreeing to. Her heart tumbled in her chest and excitement zinged through her veins because, no matter how crazy this was, how nervous she felt, she wanted this. A lifetime of humble obedience and duty to her royal family and it had all shattered to broken pieces with Prince Zayed’s foolish, desperate act. She would not marry him now; she might not marry anyone. So why not take one night? One night for herself, for pleasure? She’d deal with the consequences later. Maybe she’d be lucky and there wouldn’t be any.
‘Are you sure?’ Rico’s dark gaze searched hers, his voice a rumble in his chest. Halina had the feeling it was not a question he asked often. Did he know how innocent she was? Had he any idea that he was her first kiss, her first everything? Halina had no intention of telling him. She had a gut instinct that such lack of experience would horrify and perhaps even repel him. She wasn’t like his usual women. Even in her inexperience, she knew that.
‘Yes, I’m sure.’ The words trembled through her and part of her, quite a large part, wondered what on earth she was doing. Losing her innocence, her prized virginity, to a man who had made it clear he had no expectations, no desires, beyond sex. Fabulous sex.
But perhaps that was better. This didn’t have to be complicated. There would be no entanglements. And after a lifetime of waiting she wanted, needed, something finally to happen. To be the author of her own destiny, if only for an evening. Even if it ultimately led to heartbreak, or at least disappointment.
‘Lina.’ Rico’s voice was rough. ‘If you’re sure, come here.’ Her eyes widened but then she obeyed, walking towards him on trembling legs so she was standing before him. ‘Take off your dress.’
Her heart was thudding so hard it hurt. Was he really going to ask her to do that right now? She swallowed hard and Rico’s gaze seemed to burn into hers, his eyes like molten silver as he waited for her to obey his command.
‘Well?’ One eyebrow lifted arrogantly. This was a test, a dare; if she didn’t do it, he would call her bluff. Accuse her of inexperience, and maybe even send her away. Taking a deep breath, her gaze never leaving his, Halina reached behind her and tugged the zip down her dress.
As the dress slithered off her shoulders, leaving her bare to the waist—her breasts encased in a serviceable white bra rather than the sexy lingerie she would have preferred—Halina could hardly credit she was doing this. Was it the champagne that lent the recklessness to the moment, or was it the urgency she felt? Or was it the man himself, Rico Falcone, his body radiating the most powerful sexual charisma Halina had ever experienced?
The dress pooled around her waist and Halina lifted her chin, resisting the impulse to cover herself. ‘Well?’ she demanded, and thankfully her voice didn’t waver. ‘Take off your shirt.’
With a low husk of laughter, Rico undid his tie and then the studs of his tuxedo shirt, tossing them aside heedlessly so they clattered onto the marble floor. He shrugged out of his jacket and shirt so his chest was bare and magnificent, his skin gleaming like bronze satin stretched over powerful muscles, the dark hair sprinkling his impressive chest veeing down to the waistband of his black trousers.
‘Touch me,’ he said softly, and it felt more like a plea than a command, surprising her, because for a moment Rico Falcone didn’t seem arrogant. Gently she placed her hand on his chest, the dark, crisp hairs a sensual abrasion against her palm. His skin was warm, the muscles hard and flexed, and she felt the steady thud of his heart beneath her palm.
Rico encircled her wrist with his fingers, holding her hand there, against him. Neither of them spoke; the only sound was the ragged draw and tear of their breathing. Halina had never felt so close to a human being before, connected in a way that felt both intimate and intense.
Rico’s fingers tightened on her wrist, and then he drew her slowly towards him so her hips and breasts pressed against him. The feel of his body in such close contact with hers made a thrill run through her, as if a live wire ran right through her centre and Rico’s touch was the electric current.
He dipped his head, his mouth hovering over hers, their breaths mingled, everything suspended. Halina’s eyes fluttered closed, waiting for his kiss, but then she opened them again when he remained where he was, his lips barely brushing hers.
‘Rico...?’
Whatever he saw in her questioning gaze seemed to satisfy him, for in one swift movement he drew her even more closely to him, his hands on her hips, shrugging her dress down to her ankles as his mouth plundered hers with soft yet determined persuasion.
Halina brought her hands up to his head, her fingers threaded through his short, dark hair, her nails grazing his skull as she surrendered herself, body and soul, to that one endless kiss that demanded everything from her.
Her mind was a blur of sensation as Rico backed her towards the corridor that led to the suite’s bedrooms; she stepped out of her dress, stumbling slightly in her unfamiliar heels, and when she did he swept her up in his arms as if she were an armful of feathers and, with her curled against his chest, he strode into the bedroom.
The room was swathed in shadows and moonlight as Rico laid her on the bed. She was dressed only in her stockings and plain bra and pants, and she felt shy but not uncertain as she lay sprawled on the black silken sheets for his thorough inspection.
And inspect he did, standing above her as he slowly unbuckled his trousers and then shucked them off so he wore nothing but a pair of navy silk boxer shorts that did little to hide the impressive evidence of his masculinity.
‘You are very beautiful.’ The words were stark and sincerer because of it. Rico was not a man to flatter; he was merely stating a fact. And Lina could tell by the silver blaze of his eyes that he meant every simple word.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered. Rico stretched out alongside her, the sinewy muscles of his body rippling with the easy movement. Halina held her breath as he hooked his fingers around the edge of her tights and tugged them downwards.
Her breath came out in a restless shudder as the tips of his fingers brushed against her sensitive core, igniting sensations she’d barely felt before. He tugged the tights lower, down her thighs, leaving fiery trails of sensation wherever his fingers brushed until he’d got rid of them completely and tossed them aside.
He loomed above her, his hands braced by her shoulders and his knees on either side of her hips. She felt caged by his body, but it felt protective rather than threatening, thrilling in a way she could barely articulate even to herself. She had no idea what he was going to do next.
Then he lowered his mouth and pressed a kiss to her navel, his tongue flicking inside her belly button and making her cry out in surprised pleasure. The cry turned to a moan as his mouth moved lower. Surely he wasn’t going to...?
But he was. His breath fanned hotly on her underwear before he hooked his finger through the top of it and slid it down her legs so it went the way of her tights. She was bare and exposed before him, and it made her both tense and strain in expectation, incredulous and waiting, a little bit embarrassed and yet so eager.
Her body arched off the bed as he pressed his mouth to her centre, the feeling so intimately invasive that her mind blurred into nothing but sensation. His tongue flicked among her folds, seeming to know exactly what touch and pressure would make her writhe mindlessly, her body attuned to the exquisite pressure building within her.
‘Rico.’ His name was a moan, a plea. Her hips bucked with the restless ache inside her that she desperately needed to be assuaged. ‘Rico.’
He lifted his head, laughing softly, and then he slid his hands under her bottom, lifting her up so he had even greater access to her most intimate self. She felt too crazed with desire and need now to feel embarrassed or exposed, wanting only more from him.
And he gave it, his mouth plundering her centre until she felt as if she were shattering inside, breaking apart into glittering pieces, her hips arching under his knowing touch as her cries rent the still, taut air.
She’d never known anything like it, had never had such an experience so intimate, so intense, so overwhelming.
Rico rolled on top of her, braced on his forearms, his breathing ragged. ‘Is it safe?’ he demanded in a ragged voice and Halina blinked up at him, still dazed by an experience she could only describe as completely life-changing.
Safe? What, she wondered hazily, was safe about this? She was risking everything, including her very soul, by being here with him. It wasn’t remotely safe. But she sensed that if she said as much Rico would exercise the incredible self-control she instinctively knew he had and roll off her, tell her to go. Their night would be over, and she couldn’t bear the thought.
‘Yes, it’s safe.’
With a grim smile of satisfaction curving his features, Rico nodded, then Halina gasped as she felt him start to slide inside her. Her fingernails pierced his shoulders as she braced herself for what felt like a complete onslaught, an invasion of everything she was.
Before she could accept the discomfort and adjust to it, Rico stopped. His expression was one of complete and utter astonishment.
‘You are a virgin?’
* * *
She couldn’t be. Rico gritted his teeth, sweat breaking out on his brow as he held himself above Lina, calling on every shred of self-control he had to keep himself from sinking inside her velvety depths as he longed to do.
Lina looked up at him, her face pale, her eyes defiant. ‘What does it matter if I am?’
Matter? He didn’t deflower virgins. He didn’t corrupt innocents. Having been heartbreakingly naive once himself, he had no desire to rip away the veil of innocence from someone else. Yet here he was, poised to do just that. If he was being completely honest with himself, he’d ignored every neon warning sign that had been flashing at him tonight, every obvious example of the evidence of her innocence and inexperience. Her total naivety.
‘It matters,’ he gritted out and, though it felt like the worst form of torture, he started to withdraw from her welcoming, silken entrance.
‘No.’ Lina hooked her legs around his hips, pulling him back inside her. Her expression was fierce, her eyes bright with determination. ‘You can’t ruin me without fulfilling your side of the bargain.’
He let out a choked laugh, every muscle straining as they engaged in this absurd, exquisite push and pull. ‘My side of the bargain?’
