The Greek Bridegroom by Helen Bianchin

Author:Helen Bianchin
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2002-05-04T22:00:00+00:00

Its potent force took her breath away, and she wondered what it would feel like to have him inside her, moving in an ever-increasing rhythm until he reached his peak.

There was a part of her that wanted to be swept away by the tide of passion. To have no thought, no scruples, no reservations. Just follow wherever he chose to lead.

Would the reality exceed the limits of her experience, and prove to be as mesmeric as she imagined it could be?

Somehow the answer had to be yes. This man possessed the touch, the sexual expertise to indulge a woman in a feast of the senses. From acutely sensitive to the raw and primitive.

A shiver feathered its way over the surface of her skin, raising all her fine body hairs in anticipation as treacherous desire pulsed from deep within.

She wanted the tactile touch of skin on skin, and the need for it drove her to seek the opening of his shirt. There was a primal urge to fist the material and tug it free from his jeans then drag it off so she could rain his torso with the heated pressure of her mouth. To gently nip the hard muscle tissue close to a male nipple, then caress each one with her tongue, teasing mercilessly until he groaned at her touch.

More than anything, she wanted him to bestow her the same favour, to drive her sensually wild until there could be only one end.

Her audio-visual senses were so caught up in the mindless fantasy she was only dimly aware of a ringing in her ears, and she gave a despairing groan as Jace gently broke contact.

‘Should you get that?’

The phone. Dear heaven, it was the phone.

The answering machine picked up, and she froze. Please, please don’t let it be Brad.

Jace held her loosely, his gaze intent as he witnessed her disquiet.

‘Inviting him into your apartment isn’t a good move, darling.’ Brad’s voice was unmistakable. ‘Has he discovered you’re a frigid little bitch?’ There was a click as he cut the connection, the faint whirr of the answering machine as it rewound the tape.

Rebekah wanted to curl up and die. She closed her eyes in an involuntary gesture of self-defence, then opened them again to focus on the third button of Jace’s shirt.

A hand cupped her chin, tilting it so she had to look at him, and she fought to hold back the moisture shimmering in her eyes.

‘Don’t.’ Jace framed her face between his hands, and smoothed a thumb over lips made slightly swollen from his kiss.

She wasn’t capable of uttering a word, and her eyes ached with unshed tears.

He saw her lashes lower to form a protective veil, and pain stabbed his gut as a single tear escaped and rolled slowly down one cheek.

‘Please,’ she said huskily. ‘Just go.’

She felt his thumb erase the trail of moisture, and his hands were incredibly gentle as he cradled her face.

‘No.’

‘Please,’ she reiterated as he tilted her face.

‘Look at me.’

The command was softly voiced, and she felt his fingers trail the slope of her neck, linger at its edge, then return.

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