Page 55 of His Innocent for One Spanish Night

And he was watching her in a way she had never been looked at in her life.

‘Come closer,’ he said, and turned on a side light.

She wished he hadn’t, because she’d felt a little less exposed in the semi-darkness.

Now shadows fell, and she could see his expression as he looked at her hair and her neck. He stared at her breasts for so long that they ached, and she wanted to touch them. He gazed at her stomach, and she wanted to suck it in, but it was way too late for that.

‘You look incredible...’

‘Stop.’

‘How do you feel?’

‘Somewhere between a fraud and amazing.’ She was shaking, but with excitement, and the dress was somehow cool on her inflamed skin.

‘Lift the hem of the dress.’

‘I haven’t got any knickers on.’

He laughed, a low sexy laugh, and then corrected her assumption. ‘I meant lift it at one side.’

‘Oh.’

‘I’m not asking you to flash me.’

She started to giggle. To relax just a touch.

She leaned forward and with her right hand lifted the hem of her dress. It unfurled as she held her arm out to one side.

‘Higher,’ he said, and she held it up high.

The fabric lifted as if with miles to spare. The dress really was incredible. She ached to look down, but remembered her classes and kept her chin up.

‘Dance for me,señorita.’

He struck the floor with his foot and then clapped—or, as she now knew, gave apalma. One, two, three,palmasthat shot arrows of lust to her stomach. And then he followed that with cuppedpalmasas his foot struck the floor again.

She struck back with her heel. Then her toe, then her sole. Then she gave apalmaback at him and moved her hips. And then he smiled appreciatively and shedidknow how to dance, it would seem. But perhaps there was no one else in the world she could do this in front of.

Not even Eva.

She moved her hips and walked forward, and then she lifted the dress and swayed with it, and, God, she might not be sexy, but he made her feel it.

He was stamping one foot and that made her move faster. The rolling sound of the guitar and thecajónmade her feel a little frenzied. It was accompanied by the sound of men singing and cheering, and she could see he was turned on.

He stood up and she danced a little dance around him.

‘I feel stup—’

‘Shut up and be sexy,’ he told her.

And then made her quiet with his mouth; with hot wet kisses as still she moved to the music.

His lithe body barely moved, but each motion, each stamp of his foot or clap of his hand, spun her, so that she continued to dance around him.

His hand slid to her waist and it felt hot through the fabric. They were just dancing bodies, loose but close, and then he caught her in his arms so that her back was to him, and she stood breathless as he kissed her neck.

His mouth was on her flickering pulse, his tongue on her flesh had her pressing into him, and she closed her eyes at the bliss of his lips on her neck and his hand on her breasts.

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