Page 39 of Signed, Sealed, Married

‘Whenwe kiss, Gisèle, I’m damned if it will be for the cameras. It will be for us alone.’

He looked grim, with that shadowed marauder’s jaw anvil-hard and new grooves carved deep around his mouth. The pulse at his temple thrummed. But his eyes glowed with a green fire that wasn’t anger. It was like looking into a mirror of her own feelings. The excitement, the need, the anticipation were all there.

‘Do you agree?’

His tone had lost that brandy-laced caramel smoothness. It was almost as ragged as her choppy breathing.

Gisèle’s mouth dried and she slicked her lips, swallowing convulsively as Adam’s stare followed the movement and his pulse quickened even further. She shivered and he closed his other hand around hers, cupping it gently as if it were exquisitely precious.

Words wouldn’t come, not in the face of the hunger of his emerald-green eyes. She nodded. She’d fought to resist him for so long but no more.

A tremor passed through him. As if he’d withstood a mighty force and was suddenly released from the pressure. His tight mouth curved up in a slow-breaking smile that undid her.

‘Good. Because when we kiss, Gisèle, it won’t end there. Believe me, we’ll want privacy and plenty of time for what I have in mind.’

She should have been shocked. Instead jubilation blared through her. Jubilation and excitement.

Their business deal didn’t matter. Nor did the media or the crowd pressing close. Only the zap and spark of mutual desire that quenched all caution.

Dazzled, she said nothing as he tucked her arm through his. Moments later they walked into a barrage of light and sound as the remaining paparazzi crowded the red carpet. For once in her life, Gisèle barely noticed them.

The trip to the hotel passed in silence, but a different sort of silence, one loaded with anticipation. Adam held her hand the whole way and insisted that he, not the chauffeur, help her from the car.

She waited for doubts to creep in. The familiar warning that intimacy was dangerous. That it would leave her vulnerable. That he wasn’t a man to be trusted.

But as Adam cradled her hand in his, the warning voice was silent.

Long dormant instinct—because she’d given up trusting herself where men were concerned—told her Adam was as desperate as she.

It was there when they stepped into the lift and, with a grimace, he wrenched his bowtie and top button loose, sighing with relief. It was there in the desire-drenched green of his eyes, more compelling, more beautiful than anything she’d ever seen. And in the tiny, almost indistinguishable tremor of his long fingers around hers that belied the formidable power of his tall frame.

Gisèle had no recollection of entering her suite. All her attention was focused on the man beside her and the changes taking place in her own body.

Gentle fingers pried her clutch purse from her grip and placed it beside the long, velvet-covered sofa.

‘Gisèle.’

Her name on his lips was pure invitation. Still he didn’t move, just stood, hands flexing as if resisting the urge to reach for her.

He looked as strong and invincible as ever. Except for those restless hands and something in his expression she’d never seen before. Something that made her feel wanted. Safe. Powerful.

An instant later she was on her toes reaching up to cradle the back of his head.

Warmth enveloped her as he wrapped his arms around her and she sighed her delight. Aroused as they both were—for there was no mistaking the formidable erection pressing against her abdomen—he didn’t rush her. It felt like they had all the time in the world.

His spicy, sexy fragrance tantalised but she didn’t give a thought to its component scents. It was enough to inhale deeply, drawing it in to her lungs—hot, aroused male.

His fingers curled under her chin, thumb pressing on her lower lip. ‘I love that red lipstick,’ he growled. ‘Your mouth is the sexiest I’ve ever seen. All night I’ve imagined the taste of it. You’ve been driving me crazy.’

Heat spun in her belly, circling faster and faster.

She told herself they were just words. The sort of thing said as a precursor to sex. But even that didn’t rob them of magic.

Her fingertips scraped his scalp through his hair and he shuddered. ‘Stop talking, Adam. You promised to kiss me.’

His nostrils flared and she saw the devil in his eyes as he surveyed her like a pirate about to claim plunder. Then he fitted his mouth to hers and there was nothing else in the world but his kiss.

Gisèle had expected excitement. She got perfection.

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