Page 31 of Claiming His Baby At The Altar

The ladies itself was a plush, intimate space for the female occupants of the private boxes and had an array of toiletries and cosmetics for patrons to use. Spotting a cooling mist, Flora pulled the front of her dress out and sprayed the mist between her cleavage. Too late she noticed its seductive scent and almost stamped her feet to curse herself.

Ramos would probably assume she’d sprayed it for his benefit.

She dawdled returning to the box and then avoided conversation with him by keeping the usher busy making her a variety of mocktails to enjoy. She managed to play the charade right until the lights dimmed again.

Retaking her seat, Flora determined that in this, the second act, she would tune him out properly.

Her resolve lasted as long as it took for the first dancer to enter the stage.

This time, not even the music penetrated. Ramos didn’t stare at her. No, he leaned his head right against hers so they were a whisker from touching. His soft hair tickled her forehead. His spicy scent floated in and out of her airwaves. His arm rested on the barrier between them, his long fingers hanging over her side of it. She tightened her arms around her chest and buried her hands in her sides so her tingling fingers couldn’t reach for them. She crossed her legs so tightly that she wouldn’t be surprised if she cut off her blood supply.

But nothing she did worked to stop the assault on her body from the man who wasn’t even touching her.

‘Querida?’he whispered after she’d sat frozen for what felt like fifteen hours.

She had to swallow hard to reply. ‘What?’

‘You need to breathe.’

Her face turned to him before she could stop herself making the movement.

The tips of their noses made contact.

She was breathing now. Shallow, ragged breaths.

She was helpless to stop her eyes lifting to meet his gaze, shadowed in the darkness but still filled with that hooded, hypnotic power that so easily caught her in its trap.

A finger brushed lightly over her cheekbone.

His breath was warm against her tingling lips.

She was locked in his hooded and, oh, so seductive stare; the cavity in her chest filled, a swelling that pushed into her throat making it impossible to speak...impossible to pull away.

The finger drifted down her neck and then skimmed back up to take gentle hold of her chin. Her heart was thumping so hard she thought...

His lips fused against hers and sucked out any thoughts she had.

Languidly, his mouth moved...and hers moved with equal languidness. Their lips parted slowly as his hand cupped her cheek tenderly.

The tip of his tongue darted against hers.

A moan echoed in her ears... It came from her.

With the same torturously slow pace, the kiss deepened. Slowly, his fingers tiptoed to her ear and traced the contours, burning her with shivers of delight, then dipped behind to thread into her hair...

A loud burst of applause cut through the sensory pleasure.

In an instant, Flora yanked her hand from the nape of his neck—when had she put that there?—pushed at Ramos’s chest and jumped to her feet.

She clapped and cheered and hollered until her hands were raw and her throat hoarse.

Flora kept her arms firmly crossed on the short walk back to their waiting car.

She couldn’t believe she’d let him kiss her.

She couldn’t believe she’d kissed him back.

What waswrongwith her? Had she taken leave of her senses? She must have done.

---