His Virgin Acquisition: An Emotional and Sensual Romance (Harlequin The Billionaires Collection)
His Virgin Acquisition: Chapter 8

MARCO rolled onto his back, his breathing labored, his blood roaring in his ears. His whole body was still on fire from what had been simply the most amazing sexual experience of his life. And the most reckless, stupid act he’d ever committed.

He’d had sex with her without a condom, taking her word for it that she was on birth control. She’d been a virgin. A virgin.

He’d never so much as kissed an innocent, and now he’d taken one to bed and initiated her none too gently. He was torn between immense guilt at the realization that he’d taken her virginity, and a building rage at the thought that she might have contrived to trap him.

He turned and looked at the woman lying in bed with him. Tears were rolling down her pink cheeks, her bottom lip, swollen and red from his violent kisses, was trembling. His gut twisted, and guilt overrode the anger.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, catching a tear with his thumb.

She shook her head and then grimaced. “Well, it didn’t hurt for too long.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that you were a virgin?”

She grimaced at the word. “I didn’t think it would matter. I kind of hoped you wouldn’t notice, actually. And anyway, you wouldn’t have believed me.”

“You don’t know that.” He knew she was right. He would never have believed her. He would have thought it a ploy of some kind—just another tactic to get him to drop his guard and do something stupid and irresponsible. Of course even without her admission he’d managed to be stupid and irresponsible.

A few more tears slid down her cheeks.

“I did hurt you,” he said.

“No.” She swiped at the moisture on her face. “I don’t know why I’m crying. I really don’t. I’m not normally a crier.”

“A woman’s first time is very emotional.”

Her face pinked. “Are you very experienced in the matter?”

“I can only claim this single experience.”

Something that looked like relief flashed in her tearful blue eyes. He’d meant to ask her about her birth control pills, about whether or not they really existed, but he couldn’t bring himself to interrogate this new incarnation of Elaine, this vulnerable innocent with the wide, unguarded eyes.

She flushed scarlet and began to search the room visually, carefully avoiding his gaze.

He cupped her chin and turned her face to him gently. “Something you need?”

She blushed to the roots of her blond hair. “I don’t have any clothes in here.”

He chuckled. “I’ve seen and tasted every inch of you, cara mia. Your modesty is too little, too late.”

“Well, that was different. We were…and now we’re…” She pulled hard on the sheets and coiled them around her curvy body, before sliding out from beneath the white duvet and standing up.

“Where are you going?”

Her flush intensified. The spot on her chest where his beard had abraded her delicate fair skin turned a deep mottled rose. “I was going to go get my birth control pills, and then I was going to go to sleep on the couch.”

That answered his question about the pills. “You’re not sleeping in another room.”

“I didn’t think that men liked to talk…you know…after…”

“Come back to bed, Elaine. After you get your pills, of course.”

She scurried off, her steps restricted by the tightly wrapped sheet.

The woman made absolutely no sense to him. She didn’t come across as being naïve or sheltered in any way, and she was extraordinarily beautiful. That she had come to his bed without experience just added another piece to her personal puzzle. He prided himself on being able to read people. Business was about more than numbers: it was about gut feeling, it was about intuition. With Elaine his intuition seemed to be on vacation. He was no closer to figuring her out, or her motives, than when she’d first walked into his office with her outrageous proposal.

She came back into the room, her face pink and fresh-scrubbed, her luscious body wrapped in the silk robe they’d discarded on the porch, the sheet draped over her arm.

“See—I wasn’t lying.” She waved a small pill packet. “I wouldn’t risk the company like that.” She placed the pills on the nightstand and stood with her arms wrapped around herself. She looked so young and innocent. Some long-ignored protective instinct had him rising from his position and reaching out to her, drawing her down onto the bed.

“So why did you suddenly decide to go to bed with me? Obviously you’ve made it a point to save yourself.”

She shrugged. “Not really. It’s like you said—desire and satisfaction. It’s not very complicated.” A shuddering breath shook her small shoulders. “I’ve never really wanted to be with anyone like that, and I didn’t see the point of taking the step if it wasn’t something I really wanted to do.” She hesitated for a moment, and then turned onto her side so that she was facing him. “There was one guy that I thought I might… Well, anyway, when I told him I wasn’t ready he seemed okay with it. Then the next day at work I found out he was telling everyone I was off-limits to all the guys in the office because I was the boss’s plaything.” She gave him a pointed look. “I know you’ve heard the story. Anyway, I haven’t been that inspired to try my hand at relationships again.”

Her words held a ring of truth to them, and they sent a sharp pain through his chest. The image of a young, naïve Elaine being dragged through the mud by world-weary cynics, her heart broken, her reputation left in tatters, affected him far more than he was prepared for. He didn’t want to be a part of that—part of the ugly world that had stolen her innocence in so many ways. But he was a part of it. They had stolen her idealism, her emotional innocence, and he had taken that last piece—her physical innocence—for himself. He wouldn’t use it against her, but he had nothing to offer her either.

“This isn’t going to be a relationship in any sort of permanent sense. That’s not how I do things.” He despised the bluntness of his words, but he would not give her time to entertain fantasies of a future for the two of them. That was one reason he’d so carefully avoided women with no experience. They thought of love and sex as two things inextricably linked, and he honestly didn’t have any of that kind of love available.

She straightened her spine, her blue eyes emotionless. “I know that. And I don’t really want a relationship either.”

Once again the woman managed to surprise him. She never said or did what he expected her to do. He’d expected her to be clinging to him and asking him about his feelings, but instead she’d been cool, almost aloof, since returning to the bedroom.

“Then what is it you want?”

Her face turned a deep crimson. Now he knew that the blushing wasn’t an act. She’d blushed like a virgin because that was exactly what she had been.

“The company,” she said, her chin set stubbornly.

“I meant what is it you want from me?” A slow smile curved his lips. “What are your terms and conditions?”

Elaine didn’t know how to have a conversation with a naked man. It was difficult to concentrate on words when they were so close, with him naked and her clad only in the thin, barely there robe. All she wanted to do was lean in and kiss his lips, run her hands over his bare skin, feel him filling her again, bringing her the ultimate release. Harder still to tell him what she wanted when she had no idea what it was that she wanted or expected.

Could she honestly have a no-strings physical relationship with him?

Yes! her body screamed enthusiastically.

Yes. Her mind confirmed it. When things went back to normal, when Marco was out of her life and she had assumed her position as owner and CEO of Chapman Electronics, her life would be even more consumed by work than it already was. She would never replace the time for a relationship. She had to take this, now, while she had the chance.

And when it was over she would always have the sweetest memories of what it was to be held in Marco’s arms. She honestly couldn’t imagine ever being with another man, sharing the intimacies that she had shared with Marco. Perhaps it was her inexperience, but she really felt repulsed by the idea of another man touching her. That was why she had to seize the moment. Men did it all the time—satisfied physical needs with no feelings involved. Why shouldn’t she do it for herself?

“Twelve months. The physical relationship lasts for the duration of the marriage. Neither of us will be unfaithful, and at the end both parties go away with what we agreed upon,” she said, shocked by the steadiness of her voice.

He gave her a wicked grin that made her breasts heavy and caused a pulse to start pounding at the apex of her thighs. “A business deal, Ms. Chapman?”

“Is there any other kind, Mr. De Luca?” Far from being steady, her voice was now quivering again, this time at the lascivious intent that was written all over Marco’s face.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled the sheet away, revealing her body to him. “I think it’s safe to say we’re officially mixing business with pleasure.” He rubbed the pad of his thumb over one aching nipple and she felt herself melting into him, ready and willing for whatever he wanted to do to her.

His lips closed over hers and conscious thought became difficult. Her heart was thudding heavily, and new, strange emotions were swelling in her chest. She felt her eyes growing wet with tears again. If she could keep this purely physical, if she could stop herself from feeling, then everything would be all right. She could indulge in her craving for Marco and come away unchanged.

The thought of leaving him sent a ripple of pain through her body that matched the pleasure being delivered by his skilled hands. And then all thought became impossible as she was pulled down into the swirling undertow of sensation.

“Good morning.” The sound of a husky male voice pulled Elaine from her comatose sleep. Gradually her senses returned to her. There was a large masculine hand splayed across her belly, and she could feel…oh…she could feel Marco’s erection pressed against her backside.

The events from the night before came flooding back to her with brutal clarity. She’d slept with Marco. He knew she’d been a twenty-four-year-old virgin. She had agreed to a twelve-month sex only relationship.

She had officially lost her mind.

His hand drifted up and began toying gently with her nipples. She moaned. Yes. She’d lost her mind. And if he kept touching her like that it was going to be lost to her forever.

“Good morning.” She tried to squirm out of his hold, away from him and back into a realm where critical thinking was possible, but that only brought her into more forceful contact with his burgeoning hardness. The twitch of his member and the accompanying moan of pleasure sent a shockwave of longing all the way down to her core. She wasn’t going to replace her sanity anytime soon.

“No need for you to get up. Breakfast will be delivered in a few minutes.”

She increased her struggle to get free. “I’m not getting caught naked in your bed!”

“We’re newlyweds,” he said innocently. “Where else would they expect to replace you?”

He rolled over and pinned her on her back, his smile playful. He raised her hands above her head and held them, effectively trapping her. It should have made her angry. It really shouldn’t have turned her on. He brought his mouth down and kissed her deeply, passionately. He pushed one hair-roughened thigh between hers and she voluntarily let her legs fall open.

The intercom buzzed and Marco moved away from her. “I don’t mind getting caught in bed with you, but I don’t relish being found in the middle of lovemaking.” His smile turned rueful. “I lose my control with you, cara.” He looked utterly mystified by the thought.

She couldn’t stop herself from openly admiring his naked body as he strode across the room and picked a pair of well-worn denim jeans from the closet. She watched him slide them up his legs and over his tight rear end. Knowing he wasn’t wearing underwear was going to kill her at some point today.

She’d assumed that making love with Marco might take the edge off her desire. She’d been very wrong. Now that she knew what he could make her feel, now that she knew that every promise his sensual lips made, all the dark sexuality his lithe body proclaimed, was understated when compared to the fulfilled promise, she could think of nothing else but tasting him again.

Now that she’d discovered sex, she wondered how in the world people got anything done. That was why, she reasoned, people were so obnoxiously cheerful and scatterbrained at the beginning of an affair. Because good sex scrambled your thoughts and plastered a goofy grin on your face you couldn’t erase.

She looked at her reflection in the vanity mirror that was positioned across the room. She definitely had the goofy grin. Her skin was red from the scrape of his whiskers against her delicate face and throat. She knew that if she examined her inner thighs she’d replace the same sort of burns. That made her blush to the roots of her hair.

She slipped out of the bed and contemplated taking a chance on going to the bathroom to replace her suitcase. She hadn’t unpacked yesterday. She’d been resigned to sleeping on the couch, and the idea of hanging her clothing in the same closet as Marco’s had seemed like an intimacy too far. Which was just about laughable at this point, since there weren’t any physical intimacies left—not any that she knew about—that she hadn’t shared with Marco the night before.

Marco walked back into the room at that moment, shirtless and carrying a tray laden with pastries, fruit and meat. He was every woman’s fantasy.

She leaned over and snatched up the sheet in a belated attempt to cover herself.

He laughed and shook his head before setting the tray down on the foot of the bed. He gripped the edge of the sheet and unwound it, leaving her exposed again. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips that left her knees weak.

“No need for you to cover up. I much prefer you naked.” He brushed a swath of blond hair out of her face. “You look so much softer.”

She looked pointedly at the hard cut of the muscles on his torso. “I can’t say the same.”

“Yes, but that’s one of the many wonderful things that are different about men and women. Our differences complement each other.”

A small smile tugged at her lips. “I hadn’t thought of it that way before.”

“Hungry?” he asked, sitting on the bed and gesturing to the tray.

“Starving.” She joined him on the bed, still undressed, wondering where the fleeting moment of sanity she’d had when she’d woken up had gone off to. She felt that silly grin spread across her face again as she looked at the handsome face of her lover. Her lover. The grin widened and she knew she looked like the cat that had gotten into the cream and licked the bowl clean. “What’s on the menu?”

“Guava, French toast and fresh fruit. And I think that’s Spam.” He gestured to the pink square slices of meat that were fanned out on the silver tray.

“You’re kidding?”

“It’s a local favorite.”

“I’ll pass.” She reached over and picked up a slice of mango.

It felt ridiculously decadent, sitting on the bed with him and sharing a tray, eating with their fingers. When he slipped a bite of guava between her lips and lapped up the juices that dribbled down her chin, the entire breakfast, and any resolve she might have hoped to claim, disintegrated.

After they’d made love they went to separate showers to prepare for the day. Marco had tried to cajole her into his, but she knew that she would give in to the temptation of his naked body and they would end up cloistered in the villa all day. Her body was more than willing to take that option, but she felt she needed to get a grip on the situation, and she wouldn’t be doing that if she kept allowing Marco to turn her brain to mush with his expert hands and mouth.

She rummaged through her suitcase and found a pair of white linen shorts and a spring green halter-top made of a slithery, silky material that felt decadent against her bare skin. She had never been so aware of her body before last night, before Marco had shown her what it meant to be a woman. She found she didn’t want to blend in with the boys anymore. She wanted to celebrate her femininity, embrace the power of it.

Giddiness fizzed in her veins as she quickly tied back her wavy hair and walked out into the main living area of the villa. “So, what’s on the agenda?” she asked.

Marco looked up, and was momentarily frozen by the pang of lust that hit him square in the gut and the swelling of emotion that tightened his chest. She looked so young, so vibrantly beautiful. All of her haughty, don’t-touch-me demeanor had faded, giving way to a soft, well-loved expression. She looked like a thoroughly satisfied woman, and he couldn’t help but glory like a caveman over the fact that he’d been the man, the only man, to make her feel that way. He had brought her to the pinnacle of pleasure and caught her as she fell. He had been the only man to kiss her lush breasts, to join his body to hers. The novelty of it was extraordinary. No, he wouldn’t even call it a novelty; it was much more than that.

He still had no idea what her game was—if there was a game. For the first time he considered that she might be everything she claimed to be. That she wanted her father’s company out of a sense of pride and fairness—that she’d entered into their marriage with all her cards laid out on the table. That she had slept with him because she desired him. It hardly made sense, but then it had never mattered one way or the other to him if he understood the inner workings of his mistress’s minds. He enjoyed their bodies, but as for their shallow dreams and desires he couldn’t have cared less.

Elaine should be no different. She was his wife—that was different—but the marriage was nothing more than a business contract. Their proposed affair was an entirely different matter. It was strictly physical, and if Elaine had designs on making the arrangement permanent, or on scamming him out of his vast fortune, she was sadly out of luck. He wasn’t the type of man to be bewitched by sex, even if it was fantastic sex. His emotions and his mind always stayed separate. There was absolutely no way Elaine could ensnare him.

“Business.” He flashed her a grin and was gratified to see her cheeks turn rosy pink. She still blushed like an innocent, and in spite of himself he found he enjoyed it fully. “I have a meeting with James to discuss my business plan for the resort.”

The look of undisguised longing in her eyes—not when she looked at him, but when he mentioned a business meeting—nearly made him laugh. “Would you like to join us, Elaine?”

A sparkle caught in her blue eyes, and he tried to ignore the surge of satisfaction her happiness gave him. “Well, if you wouldn’t mind…”

“It’s in the bag,” Elaine said confidently as they left James’s office later that afternoon.

Marco took in her confident smirk with great amusement. “You think so?”

She nodded vigorously, freeing tendrils of hair from her ponytail and bringing them down to frame her face. “Your figures were astounding, not to mention accurate. From what you said in the meeting I can see that your plans will up the revenue by thirteen percent in just two years.”

“That’s a more generous figure than I had calculated.”

“Oh, good—then you hadn’t thought of this,” she said, almost gleefully. “The very new upscale nightclub you’re planning to build on the property can bring in profit from patrons of other hotels and resorts. You don’t have to open it to everyone, but making it more inclusive will certainly help it pay for the expense of building it and then some.”

“It’s definitely a thought.”

“It’s a good one.”

She leaned into him, and the intoxicating scent of her assaulted his senses. He’d had her this morning but his body still felt deprived of her softness, of the fulfillment he’d experienced with her.

“You’re very certain of yourself.” He leaned in too, and pressed a kiss to her neck, enjoying the little shiver that racked her body.

“You should know that confidence is the key to success,” she said breathlessly.

“I thought it was image.”

A tortured groan escaped her lips. “I can’t remember with you touching me like that!”

“Like this?” He kissed the curve of her neck again.

“Yes. Like that.”

“I think it’s time to go back to the villa.”

“I agree.”

The next few days passed in a kind of sensual haze. The sale of the resort was nearly finalized, and James had commanded that Marco take the weekend to romance his wife. In Elaine’s opinion, he’d done a pretty good job of it. Breakfast in bed, intimate candlelit dinners, and of course amazing sex. She wouldn’t let herself think of it as making love. It was too dangerous. Almost as dangerous as when Marco held her hand during a walk on the beach, or when he held her tenderly against his chest while they were in bed, his arms cradling her close to his body.

Monday morning she expected Marco would be back to business as usual, so it was a surprise when he exited the bathroom wearing a pair of shorts and a threadbare T-shirt. “I thought we would spend the day together,” he said. “Did my PA happen to buy you a pair of hiking boots?”

She tried, and failed, to quash the giddy sensations that were fluttering through her. For all she knew his taking time out of his busy schedule to spend with his mistresses was perfectly normal.

The term brought her up short. Was she his mistress? No. She most certainly wasn’t. They were equals in their relationship. She wasn’t dependent on him, and she certainly wasn’t expecting to be a kept woman. She had a job, and her ambitions extended far beyond that.

“I don’t think I have hiking boots. I have a pair of tennis shoes, though.”

“That should be good enough. You don’t get seasick, do you?”

“I have no idea.”

His teeth flashed bright white against his tan skin and she felt her limbs go slack. “You’re going to replace out today.”

A slim stream of white sand backed by thick foliage came into view. Elaine leaned over the railing of the small yacht to try and get a better view of their destination.

She inhaled the salt air and was thankful, again, that she apparently didn’t suffer from seasickness. The yacht cut through the water like a hot knife through butter, the waves parting and giving deference to the bulk of the sleek ship, which virtually eliminated the feeling of being on water.

Marco walked up behind her and cocooned her in his firm embrace. “This is the island of Kapu. It means forbidden, or taboo.” The wicked words sent a shiver down her spine. “It’s for sale, and I’m considering purchasing it and building a luxury villa on the grounds. It’s the ultimate vacation rental. A private island.”

“You’re going to buy an island?” There was simply no pretending to be nonchalant over this extravagant show of wealth.

“It’s a lovers’ paradise. The fantasy of being the only two people on earth realized, with all of the modern luxuries you could ever want.”

She could imagine it all too easily. She and Marco marooned on an island, with nothing more pressing to do than give each other pleasure. She bit back a moan. “So you’re thinking of it as an extension of the resort?”

“In a sense. But it will be kept separate, in that only staff and invited guests will be allowed on it when it’s in use.”

“That sounds…decadent.”

He chuckled—his hot breath warming her down to her toes, the sound of his laugh rumbling through her body.

“That’s the idea.”

It didn’t take long for Marco and the small crew to bring the ship into the floating marina. He moved like a man who had been born at sea, his movements sure and swift, his deft fingers tying knots with ease.

“Did your family sail often?” she asked, keeping her eyes trained on the shifting muscles in his forearms as he worked.

He stopped and straightened, a shadow passing over his handsome face. “No.” He crossed the deck and climbed up onto the ship’s railing before dropping down onto the dock.

She moved to follow him and he stretched his arms up, preventing her from hitting the wooden planks with the force that he had done. “You just seem like a seasoned pro.”

Marco never talked about his family, and up until that point she’d thought it might have been an oversight. She should have realized that Marco didn’t commit oversights. His avoidance of the subject was very purposeful, and if he didn’t want to share the reasons there would be no persuading him. She had been right when she’d guessed that he wasn’t a pillow-talker. He wasn’t that much of a talker full-stop—not about anything personal—which had suited her fine since she didn’t exactly want to rehash her disaster of a childhood either. But now it didn’t seem enough to limit conversation to the weather and the stock market. She wanted more. And that was very, very dangerous.

“I bought my first boat when I was nineteen. Sailed it from Puerto Vallarta to San Diego and then had it transported across the country. Money was no object,” he said ruefully. “I enjoyed it very much.”

She could just imagine him on board a sleek white yacht, with women in scanty bikinis draped across the deck…and across Marco. Unbidden, a flame lit in the pit of her stomach. She knew Marco had an unfathomable amount of experience compared to her, and generally she could let it go, but she would be a liar if she claimed it didn’t bother her. The thought of other women touching him made her stomach churn.

“I sold it a few years ago,” he continued, “because I no longer had the time to take extended boating excursions.”

“Cut into your social life?” she snapped, the image of beach beauties pawing at him still at the forefront of her mind.

He gave her a withering glare. “I don’t sleep with every woman I’m photographed with.”

She tried to look casual at his admission. “Oh?”

“I think you are jealous, cara mia.” He looked very entertained by the notion. And, worse still, he was right.

“And my being with other men wouldn’t bother you?”

He stepped nearer to her and claimed her mouth in a fiery kiss. When they parted their breathing was labored, their heartbeats erratic and audible in the near silence that surrounded them. “They would not live to taste your sweet lips. I would not allow it.”

She tried to think of a tart comeback, something pertaining to his origins in the Neolithic era, but every fiber of her being was too busy basking in the pure pleasure of knowing that Marco wanted her and wanted no one else to have her, that he felt possessive of her in the same way she felt possessive of him.

Forsaking all others.

She quickly shook off the remembered snippet of her wedding vows and followed Marco from the dock to the pristine white sand beach. There were no footprints to mar its natural beauty, only gentle, sloping waves caused by the coastal winds.

“I’m told that back in the jungle there’s a natural waterfall, if you’re up for a walk.”

“Most definitely,” she said, keeping pace with him as he walked into the thick trees.

To think that only a week ago she’d been sitting in her gray cubicle, crunching numbers. It seemed another lifetime away. She could hardly reconcile the two points of her existence, and yet they were both real.

They moved through the sun-dappled undergrowth, vines reaching out and grabbing them around the ankles every so often. “We need a machete,” she grumbled as she tripped over a wayward root.

He turned and quirked a grin at her. “Just a little bit farther. I can hear the water running.”

They followed the sound until the treeline ended and they were standing in a grassy clearing. A waterfall was spilling down a lava rock formation and into a clear pool of deep water.

Marco came to stand beside her, his arm wrapped around her waist, the heat of his body seeping through her clothes, warming her from the inside out.

“This almost doesn’t seem real,” she breathed. “It’s like a fantasy.” And she didn’t only mean the scene; the man was included as well.

“Do you think it will appeal to those seeking a romantic hideaway?”

“I’d say it’s absolutely perfect.”

“Want to test the water out?”

She eyed him skeptically. “I thought we were here for business.”

Marco felt himself grow hard as he thought about getting her in the water, her body slick, her nipples beaded tight from the coolness of the natural pool.

“We’re here to test out the facilities,” he said sagely. “I never buy a car without test driving it first. I’m not going to buy an island without sampling some of its attractions.”

An impish grin lit her face and she untied the flimsy strings of her halter-top. The close-fitting top had been tormenting him all morning. She pulled the silky shirt over her head and revealed a skimpy electric-blue bikini that barely concealed the fullness of her curves. Her nipples were hard and pressing tightly against the Lycra. He ached to touch her, taste her, to lave his tongue over the small raspberry buds until she cried out for fulfillment.

“See something you like?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Keep going.”

She rolled her eyes at him and pushed the khaki shorts she was wearing down her long, shapely legs. The bottom to the bikini was just as tiny and insubstantial as the top, the tight blue fabric hugging the round curve of her bottom and revealing hints of peachy flesh.

Her irises expanded, obscuring the color in her eyes, as her body responded to his blatant appraisal of her. “Your turn,” she said, her voice taking on the husky quality that he knew signaled her arousal.

She watched as he stripped down to his swim-trunks, her eyes roaming over him with unconcealed desire. She was an anomaly when compared to any of the other women he’d known. She didn’t lower her lashes coyly, but neither was her look one of bold invitation. There was nothing contrived in her response. She had such total honesty in her desire. She wanted him, and she did nothing to hide that fact from him, but neither did she strut around like a cat in heat to try and gain his attention.

The pure need in her soft blue eyes was his undoing every time. He hooked his arm around her waist and drew her into his body. Shy excitement lit her face. It amazed him every time she blushed. A surge of emotion caught him off guard, and despite being on solid ground he had the strangest sensation of being unsteady.

He gripped her tightly and took two big steps to the edge of the water before jumping in and submerging them both in the aquamarine depths.

She came up sputtering, her blond hair plastered to her face. She moved the curtain of hair aside and gave him her best evil eye. His charming grin undid her, and all her pique was forgotten. She registered the heat of his skin, warming her in the cool water, the strength of his body as he held her locked against his hard, muscular chest. If she’d been standing her knees would have buckled.

She slithered out of his grasp, submerging herself again, and swam to the waterfall, aware that he was following behind her, feeling a primitive feminine thrill over being pursued. She climbed up onto a rock that rose out of the pool at the base of the waterfall and sat down on the moss-carpeted surface, curling her legs beneath her.

Marco hoisted himself from the water and onto the rock with ease, his muscles bunching and shifting beneath his tan skin. Slick moisture pooled at the apex of her thighs, but it had nothing to do with the waterfall and everything to do with the supremely gorgeous man who was moving toward her, his dark eyes blazing with intent.

“Pouting?” he asked, trailing his finger along the line of her collarbone.

The contact was almost innocent, yet it made her thoughts turn wanton and wicked.

“Yes, well, you got me wet.”

His eyes flickered. “Careful, a man could let that go to his head.”

He moved his finger, dipping in the valley between her breasts. She gasped. “Is it always about sex with you?”

“Not always. But when I’m with you that seems to be the subject more often than not.” He cupped her breasts, teasing the straining peaks with the pads of his fingers. She shuddered.

She flicked a glance at the dense jungle, looking for any signs of movement in the thick growth of plants. “Marco, we’re right out in the open.” She couldn’t summon enough conviction to give her scolding any weight.

“It’s a private island. And the crew is still aboard the yacht.”

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the curve of her neck. Her body went slack, leaning into his, surrendering to the feelings he aroused in her so effortlessly.

He untied the strings on her daring bikini, the one that she’d vowed never to wear on her first inspection of her new wardrobe, and left her bare to his hungry gaze.

He groaned. “You’re so gorgeous.” He moved his thumb over her tight nipple and she squirmed. She wondered if anyone had ever died from longing, from wanting a man so much it took the breath right from her body.

He moved his hand beneath the falls and let water pool in his palm. Then he brought his hand to her and tilted it slightly over her, let the water trickle slowly over her flesh, so it trailed down the dips and swells of her body, over her already aching breasts. The contrast of concentrated drops of cool water on her overheated skin made her gasp. It also wrenched her arousal up another untenable notch.

She reached behind her head, feeling for something to grip, something to keep her rooted to the earth. She found a fern frond and grasped it in her hands, holding it so tightly that the leaves bit into her palms.

He gathered more water in his hand, tormenting her again with the sharp chill as he let it fall in beads over her bare breasts, this time lapping up the drops with his tongue. She arched into him, begging him silently to possess her, to fill her and take them both to the heights they so desperately craved.

He leaned in and drew her nipple into his hot, moist mouth, and she let out a shocked cry that was swallowed up by the roaring of the water. She released her hold on the plant and gripped the back of Marco’s head, holding him to her, needing him to stop for fear that she would shatter, needing him to go on forever, needing to keep experiencing the wicked sensations that were coursing through her body.

He escaped her hold and untied the flimsy bikini bottoms, his dark eyes turning black with the force of his desire as he looked at her naked body.

“I’m at a disadvantage,” she said. She was almost shocked by her growing boldness as she gripped his aroused length through the thin fabric of his swim-shorts. She squeezed him, loving the look of surrender that passed over his handsome face.

She put a hand in the center of his chest and gently shoved him back, moving his shoulders beneath the cascading water. She moved her hands over his bare chest, sliding her fingertips over his slick bare skin.

She hooked her fingers into his shorts and pulled them down his legs, smoothing her hands up his muscled thighs, skimming the area around his erection. His shaft jerked at the near contact and she thrilled at his response. She would never, ever get enough of his body. She would never tire of looking at him. He was the perfect example of what a man should be. Hard, hot, rough and smooth.

She leaned over and took the tip of him into her mouth. He gripped her hair, weaving his fingers into the wet strands. She didn’t know if he meant to pull her away or keep her there, but when she slid her lips down over his full length his hand froze, his grip tightening, whatever his original intention had been lost.

She pleasured him that way until his thighs began to quiver beneath her hands, and then he pulled her away, bringing her up the length of his body and taking her mouth in a fierce, deep kiss. When he broke the kiss his breathing was labored, his eyes dark with intensity.

“Was that okay?” she asked.

“Okay?” A strained chuckle escaped his lips. “Any more and this would have been over before it started.”

He settled her onto his lap, so that she was straddling them. The water was showering them both, but doing nothing to cool their mutual desire. He lifted her and settled her onto his erection, gently sliding into her damp core, stretching her, filling her.

He cursed, and she cut him off by pressing her lips to his, absorbing his masculine groan of ecstasy as she began to move.

She rode him, their eyes locked, their breathing fractured. She felt the onset of her climax, but it felt like too much too soon, as though her body couldn’t possibly contain it. He moved his hand between them and rubbed her clitoris. She shattered. She screamed, not caring if anyone heard, not mindful of anything but the intense, pulsing sensation that was centered at her apex of her thighs and radiating out through her whole body, filling her so completely that she thought she might burst with it.

Marco thrust hard into her one last time and followed her over the edge, his harsh groan of completion shifting something inside her chest.

He rested his head against her breasts, his arms holding her tightly to him. She cradled his head, holding him to her, craving his closeness to a degree that frightened her.

She had been foolish to believe that she could conduct this affair as if it was business. She would never be free of him after this. He was part of her, in her. He’d changed her.

She had done exactly what she’d been so determined not to do—what she’d thought she would be incapable of doing. She’d committed the unpardonable sin. She had fallen in love with her husband.