The Argentine's Price by Maisey Yates - The Argentine's Price

Author:Maisey Yates - The Argentine's Price [Yates, Maisey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Adult
ISBN: 9780263221152
Barnesnoble:
Goodreads: 12160675
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2010-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

FINALLY. Tonight she would be his. At last he would take the edge off of the burning desire that had plagued his sleep since the day he’d first seen Vanessa Pickett.

He growled low in his throat and pulled her to him, kissing her, tasting her, his body on fire with the need to push her up against the wall and take her then and there. It would be so easy to slide that dress up over her hips and have her that way, so easy and so tempting.

He pulled away from her and pushed the button on the wall to bring the elevator down. He wanted her, desperately. But he knew she didn’t want a public display. And it mattered. Because when she’d spoken of humiliation, it had been genuine.

His stomach was a tight ball of pain. Her humiliation might simply be because it was him and not some purebred show boy her father had selected for her.

But then, Vanessa’s relationships had never been news- or gossip-worthy, and he had a feeling she was simply private. The intense desire to protect that part of her, to protect her, shocked him.

Even if her humiliation was centered around being caught with him, he found he didn’t want to make her feel that way.

The lift doors opened and he took her hand and led her inside, hitting the button immediately, unwilling to wait any longer than absolutely necessary.

She looked at him, her cheeks flushed pink, her lips bright and swollen from kissing him. He cared about her not being humiliated because he wanted her filled with nothing but desire. He wanted her mind blank of everything but the need for him to be inside her, because when he was touching her, that was how he felt, and he wanted her to feel the same.

This moment wasn’t about revenge. It was about satisfying a need that had gnawed at him for the past twelve years.

As soon as the elevator doors opened into the vast living area of the penthouse he took her in his arms again, and she came willingly, her soft, delicate hands sliding over his chest, his back. Her lips were hot and soft against his neck.

Vanessa didn’t think. She just felt. Nothing else mattered. Nothing. She was determined not to let it matter.

She just wanted to feel. She wanted Lazaro. And she was going to have him. There were so many things in life she’d denied herself, so many things she’d wanted that she’d walked away from because of propriety. Lazaro was one of them.

Not now.

This was her moment. All hers. It was only about desire and want and satisfying the ache inside her, filling the cavernous void that had seemed to grow with each passing year.

She’d spent so long drifting. Walking down a path simply because she’d gone too far to turn back. But she didn’t really feel alive. She felt heartburn and angst and stress. But there had to be more than that.

This was more. This was different. And it was hers.

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