Ross 01 Unleashed (24 page)

“Really? You don’t…wish we could have waited a bit?”

“Ten years, Kelsey. Don’t you think we waited long enough?”

“Oh, I definitely think so.”

Her law school dreams had been put on hold for a bit, but it was okay. As she’d told Evan when she first discovered she was pregnant, another dream of hers had always been to have a family, to be a mom. It didn’t really matter to her which came first, but fate had decided for them. And though the baby was unplanned, he or she was definitely not unwanted by either of them.

Evan kissed her, his lips soft, his tongue gently exploring. She could swear every time he kissed her was like the first time, unleashing a flock of fluttering wings in her stomach. She tangled her fingers in his hair, reveling in this sweetness. Ever since Kelsey had told him about the baby, it seemed everything about him had gentled. The way he touched her, kissed her, looked at her, made love to her.

He drew her back to the bed and sat on the mattress. Smiling, she hiked her dress up to her thighs and straddled him, sinking back into his kiss once she had settled on his lap. His fingers skimmed her thighs, roamed up to brush her breasts. Slowly, carefully, he pulled her dress down while she drew away and bit her lip at the friction of the elastic rubbing over her too-sensitive nipples, even through her strapless bra. His fingers brushed her back as he made quick work of that as well.

“Oh, thank you,” she murmured once that itchy aggravation was gone, replaced with his soothing caresses. She had to smile at how mindful he was of her tenderness there. His tongue gently laving her swollen flesh was like a warm balm. He didn’t have to tell her that he enjoyed all the swells and curves pregnancy had blessed her with. He’d shown her almost every day, if only in the way he looked at her.

“Thank
you
,” he said after a moment, and lifted his head to nuzzle against her neck.

“Evan, I love you so much.”

“I love you. My wife.” He smiled at her before taking the dress bunched around her midsection and lifting it over her head, leaving her in nothing but her lacy white panties.

My wife
. Those words sang through her. She pulled off his lei and began working the buttons on his shirt, eager to bare all that smooth, hard male flesh to her feverish hands. The bottom button slipped loose and she gave his cock a long, languid stroke through his pants that made him hiss in a breath. He shrugged his shirt off his shoulders and she stripped it the rest of the way.

She couldn’t be bothered with disrobing further. She freed him from his pants and he tugged her panties to the side, his urgency tempered with trembling care as she lifted her hips and sank onto his straining length. “Honey—”

“I want you. Now. I won’t break,” she whispered, bearing down to take more of him and nipping at his ear.

“I know, but oh, God, I might.”

She started to laugh, but it turned into a moan when he moved his hips beneath her and her need ran rampant, bringing every nerve ending to sizzling life. It was always this way with him. Her bones evaporated and her muscles melted into him until he was all that was holding her up. “Evan, I…”

He slid his hands under her rear and shifted so that she was on her back and he was braced above her. Much better for the times when he turned her into melted butter. And this, their first joining as husband and wife, had effectively done just that.

Later, as they lay naked and exhausted across the bed, Evan’s hand spread across the swell of her stomach. She loved how he did that, a sweetly protective gesture. They fell asleep like that every night, and usually in the morning she opened her eyes to feel him caressing her there. Like he couldn’t keep his hands away from her. “Gorgeous,” he murmured.

She chuckled. “Think you’ll say that in five months or so? When I waddle like a duck and you have to tie my shoes for me?”

“I’ll say it then and forever. I can’t wait to see you in five months. You’ll be even more beautiful. I never realized what a miracle it is.”

It was, indeed, a miracle. Like them getting a second chance at doing things right. She wouldn’t waste time thinking about the four years she’d spent married to the wrong man. Those years only made her all the more appreciative toward the one who loved her now. Made her thank God for him. Things truly happened for a reason.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, just as she was about to drift off. “Now that we’re married, I have something to tell you. It’s been bothering me for a long time. It’s time I got it off my chest.”

Ordinarily, after what she’d been through, a statement like that would have sent her into a panic. Not now, not with him. She was curious, but not frantic with worry, riffling through a dozen mental images of him betraying her in some way. She had that much trust in him. “Oh?”

“Remember that first night at my house last year? When you got drunk?”

“How could I forget?”

“Did you by any chance have a really hot dream…?”

About the Author

To learn more about Cherrie, please visit
www.cherrielynn.com
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Just when you think things can’t get any worse…

Secret Intentions

© 2008 Caitlyn Nicholas

Zani’s mission is simple. Go undercover as personal assistant to the loathsome Corbin de Villiers, prove he’s leaking corporate secrets, and leave him to the tender mercies of the fraud squad. Her family name will remain untouched by any hint of scandal, and she can get on with building custom-designed yachts.

Things get complicated when she discovers that Corbin is less loathsome—and far sexier—than she’d ever imagined.

Corbin’s new PA may be easy on the eyes, but she can’t even find the computer’s on button. He has no choice but to fire her; still, she doesn’t take the hint. Everywhere he turns she pops up, keen to divert him from tracking down the person who is out to destroy his company.

It’s crystal clear that she’s up to something. Maybe it’s better to keep her close. For investigative purposes, of course. That she’s temptation with a capital T has got nothing to do with it. Nothing.

Complicated doesn’t even begin to cover it when Zani is kidnapped by the Russian Mafia. Entangled in a rapidly unraveling web of lies, Zani and Corbin must learn the rules of this new game fast…or die.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Secret Intentions:

“You barely know me, how can you assume that?” Zani dripped scorn. “I suppose with all your dubious experience of women you consider yourself some sort of an expert.”

She glared at Corbin, daring him to venture into that sticky territory.

“To me women are a complete mystery, and that’s the way I like it. But I’ll tell you what I do know: you won’t hit me, because what you really want is to kiss me again.”

Wind taken out of her sails, Zani tried to decide if he was being arrogant or not.

“And the only reason I know that is because of the way you kissed me before.”

He gave her a look that said “I’m going to be kissing you again, any minute now”. She valiantly countered with an “over my dead body” look. But they both knew she lied. That she fought a losing battle. A battle, she grudgingly admitted to herself, she was perfectly happy to lose.

“Oh, stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Being all French. It won’t work on me, you know. Not like the rest of your girlfriends.”

“My girlfriends?” He seemed amused. “I’ll tell you the truth, my last girlfriend’s name was Pixie, and the fact I had anything to do with her now makes me shudder to my core. I cannot begin to describe how enormous a mistake she turned out to be.”

The expression of misery that crossed his face so fascinated Zani that she forgot about being defensive.

“But why? What happened?” She leant forward in anticipation, guiltily aware she should make some polite comment about it being none of her business. But for once he looked uncomfortable, and she nastily enjoyed the sudden wariness in his eyes.

“Well, simply put, she slept with me then sold the story to the tabloids. I’m surprised you haven’t seen it.”

Zani firmly stifled a laugh. “Oh, I don’t read any of that crap. Was it really awful?”

“No. It wasn’t. I’ve seen them print much worse, and to be truthful we only made it to page seventeen. The PR guys were thrilled. They reckoned it was worth it for the publicity it got for Sunberri. In their words, having a CEO who was worthy of the gossip columns did more for the company image as young and trendy than any amount of clever marketing and advertising. But it made me feel cheap and used. Not to mention the embarrassment. My mother thought it was hysterical,” he said grimly.

Zani was dying to ask more, find out what exactly the story had said. Was it some no-holds-barred sex story, or more of a miffed ex-girlfriend type of thing? She tried to formulate a delicate, tactful question, but Corbin forestalled her.

“More wine?” He picked up the bottle from the table and waved it at her. She held out her glass, and he filled it and took the opportunity to sit next to her as he did.

“You never went out with someone called Pixie?” Zani asked with incredulity. She was more than a little pleased Pixie had turned out to be such a perfidious vixen.

Corbin began to laugh. “Yes, I know, it’s true. Surely you must have somebody equally embarrassing in your past?
Non
?”

Zani couldn’t resist.

“I’ve sort of got this boyfriend. Well, he’s not exactly my boyfriend; I’ve broken up with him. In fact I don’t think we were ever actually going out. Anyway. His name is Sebastian, Count of Ledenfeld, and my father loves him and wants me to marry him so that I’ll be a Countess. Then he can tell everyone at his club that his daughter is a Countess.” Zani paused for breath.

“I see, so you went out with this man to please your father.”

“Um. I suppose. That sounds terrible, doesn’t it?”

Corbin shrugged noncommittally. “Not particularly.”

“No, it is terrible. I know that. I’ve known all along. He is the clammiest, drippiest, most shudderingly awful person I’ve ever come across, and I put up with him, just for my father. It’s so pathetic.”

“He can’t have been that bad,” said Corbin evenly.

“Oh but he is,” Zani assured him. “Always having two glasses of wine and trying to feel me up.” She winced, realising her nervous babble had taken her into muddy waters. She stopped talking, unwilling to get into the nitty-gritty of the clammy fumblings of Sebastian with someone she’d been kissing only a few minutes before.

“I’ve had two glasses of wine.”

The words hung it the air, their challenge clear. Busy thinking of a suitable put-down, then realising the time for put-downs had hurtled past, Zani groped for something to say. The clock, far off in the house, began to chime again. Silence fell between them and she counted all the way to twelve.

“Midnight,” she said, straightening from the curl she’d slumped into. “Listen. Is it me or has the wind dropped?”

“I don’t know,” he said. That predatory, wanting look was back in his eyes. “The weather is of no importance. Right now, it is just you and me, and an empty house.”

Zani stopped thinking about the weather. In fact she stopped thinking about anything at all, except for the desire that began to unfold in the pit of her stomach.
One night. How much harm can one night do?

Knowing she should probably be attempting to resist him, she tipped her head and smiled invitingly. It was all she needed to do.

He took the invitation, leant toward her, and their lips met. The world and its myriad problems receded into a distant haze. They only had thoughts for each other.

Corbin couldn’t decide if he was making the biggest mistake of his life, or the best decision. But what he did know was that Zani, finally, wanted him to kiss her. He’d admit, he was starting to get tired of stealing them. She tasted like red wine. The warm softness of her mouth opened beneath his and he let her draw him in.

The tense desire that had been nagging at him since he first saw her moved inexorably from a dull throb to an incessant pulse. He wanted to be in her, on her, over her, all at once. He wanted to possess her.

He’d never felt such relentless, uncontrollable desire. Lust, pure lust. He who’d dined with plastic models and eager, beautiful society girls, now found himself utterly consumed by an intriguing, unpredictable person. Who, he made the happy discovery, wasn’t wearing any underthings.

“
Mon dieu, cherie
,” he muttered as he slid a hand tantalisingly along her bare stomach.

Zani didn’t care who’d done what to whom. The problems and insecurities that plagued her, had, for a small slice of time, faded away. From the moment Corbin had kissed her, she’d ceased to trouble herself with anything but the feel of his body against hers. With aching anticipation she willed his exploring hand higher.

“Touch me,” she groaned against his mouth, arching up against him. He obliged, rubbing a thumb over the soft nipple that begged for attention. It instantly hardened, and he pinched, ever so gently. White light filled Zani’s mind, and she cried out.

“Please.” Keeping up the gentle pressure, he ducked his head and began to suck gently. She gasped, and he bit down softly.

“You like?” Corbin raised his head, watching her.

“Don’t stop,” she begged, then, realising she should be sounding more ladylike, “I mean stop, we should…” but Corbin ignored her, dipping his head to the other nipple, paying it merciless attention.

Zani decided to stop worrying about being ladylike. Twisting her hands in the cushions of the sofa she writhed against him. Loud and unashamed. Just when she didn’t think she could stand another moment, he shifted, plundering her mouth, kissing her with an intensity that stole her breath. He was unrelenting.