Too much time alone with a lover might lead to complications he didn’t want.
All he really wanted from the women he dated was physical release and fulfilment—the delights of mutual pleasure. If he took a woman home, he encouraged her to leave after they’d had sex. Generally he’d drive her home, then would drive alone for a while, enjoying the late night and the city, the relaxed state of his body. Or if his lover was fast asleep in his bed—as some of them pretended to be—he went into his study and worked through till dawn. When a woman woke up and realised he wasn’t there, she soon got the message. Even when he dated a woman for a few weeks, he wanted his own room at the end of each night. He needed his intimate space to himself. Always. And—other than amusement—he needed his emotions minimally engaged.
‘Order something to eat—you’ll feel better.’ He opted to tease Catriona into sparking back at him. Humour was always good.
‘I’m starting to think you must be an emotional eater.’
He laughed. ‘No, I just recognise “hangry” when I see it. You didn’t stop for lunch—you must be starving.’
‘And you know this because?’
‘Paolo reported in to me.’
‘Oh, so my every move is being documented and reported back to you?’
‘Naturally. My fiancée’s welfare is very much my concern.’
She glowered at the menu and he bit back his smile.
‘Something wrong?’ He waited, knowing she’d find something. She was never going to make this easy for him.
‘I’m vegetarian.’ Her glance at him now was positively sugary. ‘So this whole French foie gras and raw steak thing isn’t working for me.’
Of course she was. ‘Another whim of yours?’
She lowered the menu and turned to correct him. ‘I’ve been vegetarian since I was seven.’
‘You just made that choice one day?’
‘Pretty much.’
‘Your parents agreed?’
‘Of course not. So I went on hunger strike until they did.’
He grinned, imagining the stubbornness of a red-headed wilful child. ‘How long did that take?’
‘Just over a week.’
‘That long?’ He’d have given in to her much sooner. ‘Why don’t you wish to eat meat—for slimming or ethical reasons?’
She sent him a withering look. ‘You really have to ask?’
‘When you feel strongly about something, you go the whole way with it, don’t you?’
‘All or nothing.’ She nodded blithely. ‘Otherwise what’s the point?’
‘So when you’re wrong, you’re really wrong.’
‘No,’ she answered haughtily. ‘I’m rarely wrong.’
‘Oh? What about men?’ He laughed, enjoying her cut-glass perfection. ‘Third time lucky, do you think?’
‘Once I’m shot of you?’ she muttered so the others couldn’t hear. ‘I’m checking in to a nunnery.’
‘Oh, no,’ he chided. ‘That would never do. You’ll always need a release for that passion.’
‘That’s what my art is for,’ she said airily.
He laughed, genuinely amused. Catriona had far too much fire for any kind of life of denial.
‘What’s so funny, you two?’ one of the women across the table called to him.
‘Alejandro delights in teasing me,’ Catriona answered before he could.
He was going to delight in teasing her. Very much.
He listened as she assumed the role of society fiancée. Most of the guests were over from the States like him, a couple of younger ones for the first time, and Catriona efficiently schooled them in the ‘off the beaten track’ tourist ideas, getting in a plug for her brother’s upcoming play too, he noticed with a wry grin. And, for someone who was ‘faking it’, she was doing a good job. When the food arrived she quietened, tucking in to the specially ordered vegetarian dish with gusto. All or nothing indeed.
‘What are you thinking about?’ he asked her gently when he saw the curve of a smile on her mouth.
Her eyebrows shot up. ‘Seriously?’
‘Yes.’ He wanted to know everything that was going on in that head of hers.
‘I was thinking how delicious that was.’
‘So, despite the initial disappointment of the menu, we’ve managed to please you?’
‘Mm hmmm.’ She sat back with a satisfied smile and looked at him.
Her eyes sparkled in the light; her skin was so pale it was almost luminescent. She had such striking colouring and, whether she intended it or not, there was challenge in those emerald eyes. Challenge he could no longer resist.
He pushed his chair back and stood. ‘Come with me; there’s something you need to see.’
‘We’re leaving now?’ She looked startled and glanced back at the other dinner guests.
‘Only for a moment. This way.’ He threw a polite smile at the others but firmly took her hand and led her out the back and down the gleaming black corridor. At the very end he paused and turned to face her.
‘Why are we here?’ She still looked bemused. And beautiful.
‘To admire this painting.’ He waved a distracted hand at a large modernist painting that was conveniently hung on the wall. ‘As an artist, I thought you’d appreciate it.’
‘I’m not really that much of an artist. And not the painting kind.’ She frowned at the canvas.
‘Okay, I brought you here because I wanted to be alone with you.’ He wasn’t afraid to be honest. He knew she wanted him too. And he wanted her to look at him again, not the stupid painting.
She faced him, that frown replaced by a laughing smile, but it still wasn’t enough.
‘I thought you liked dinner parties with billions of people,’ she teased.
‘Shh.’ He’d hardly touched her all day and he couldn’t resist now. He wanted to taste that smile, to press against the pretty pout of her full lips. He wanted to feel her softness and lithe strength, he wanted to claim her body with his own and see her buck and then break under the pleasure he could push her to—
Her eyes widened as she looked up at him. ‘Alejandro—’
He caught her lips with his, groaning as he felt her part for him immediately. Caution and control faded. He tugged her closer, pressing her body against the hard ache of his, wrapping his arms around her waist so he could explore her shape. He couldn’t get close enough. He tried to keep it gentle, but the kiss deepened. So did his frustration. He wanted to be alone with her. Warm. Naked. He wanted all the time in the world to explore her—to taste every inch and every secret part of her. But he had to make do with just her mouth. It was good. Too good. And it wasn’t enough.
Kitty lost track of time and space and sanity. Never had she been kissed like this. Never had she felt as if she was so close to soaring—so high, so quick. There was only Alejandro, only this warmth, only this surging sense of delight. And need. She wanted to burrow closer, she wanted him to touch her more...there...everywhere. His kisses drugged and ignited desire. Never had she wanted a man like this. The way his tongue teased, the way he nipped the inside of her lip with his teeth, the soothing—then stirring—caress of his lips, the pleasure he promised with every stroke...
She writhed helplessly and recklessly against his firm hold, grinding her hips against his. Her wantonness shocked her. She didn’t want this to stop. She didn’t want this ever to stop. But—oh, God—that was why it had to. They couldn’t. Not here. Not now.
She tore her lips from his, jerking her head back and reminding herself of where they were.
‘Alejandro,’ she pleaded breathlessly, pushing against his chest. ‘There are people.’
They were making out in the restaurant corridor like teen lovers who couldn’t go home to their parents’ houses for
privacy, and she felt out of control.
‘We’re engaged,’ he lifted his head and pointed out with annoying reasonableness. ‘Of course we’re going to kiss. No one would ever believe I was engaged and not be touching my fiancée any time I could.’
She pushed back a strand of hair and sent him a baleful look, locking her knees to stop her legs from shaking. How could he remain so collected when he kissed like that? ‘There’s an occasional kiss, and then there’s indecent behaviour. I only agreed to this so I wouldn’t get arrested, remember?’
He looked amused. ‘A few kisses aren’t going to get you arrested. Or were you about to strip naked and have your way with me up against the wall?’
Oh, if he only knew. She jabbed her finger in his chest. ‘Stop provoking me.’
‘But it’s the most fun I’ve had in years.’ He pulled her close again and brushed another quick kiss on her lips. ‘You respond so magnificently. Like lightning, you flare. You must be incandescent when you orgasm.’
A wave of heat almost turned her to cinders on the spot. ‘Right now I’m incandescent with rage.’ She wished the lighting in the corridor was dimmer so he couldn’t see how violently he was making her blush. ‘Stop talking like that.’