And lowering his head, he pulled her body roughly against his, and kissed her once more, hot and hard.
CHAPTER SIX
CALLIE’S mouth parted in a gasp as she felt the smooth satin of his lips, the sweet rough fire of his tongue. She felt the warm strength of his arms around her, and in the dark, cold solitude of Central Park, surrounded by snow and the bare black trees of winter, she felt an explosion of heat.
Murmuring words in Spanish, Eduardo tightened his embrace as he held her against his chest. She dimly felt the icy wind against her cheek as tendrils of her light brown hair blew all around them, but the sensation of his lips against hers felt like a thousand flickers of fire.
As he kissed her, a sigh escaped her lips and she tilted her head back to deepen the embrace. Feeling his body so strong and hard against hers, her endless longing could no longer be repressed. With a soft moan, she wrapped her arms around his neck. She no longer felt the cold air against her skin, the frigid ground beneath her feet. She barely heard the distant traffic of the city and the wind through the bare trees. The night was frozen and dark, but Callie felt hot as a summer’s day, lit up from within.
Eduardo’s hands stroked her back, down her bare arms. Prickles of need spiraled through her everywhere he touched. Everywhere he didn’t touch.
His lips gentled against hers, seducing and enticing where they’d once demanded and taken. Memories of another winter night went through Callie, leaving her lost in time, as if all the grief and pain of the last year hadn’t happened, and she’d teleported back into the most perfect night of her life.
She wrapped her fingers in his hair. He felt so good, so powerful and masculine. His warrior’s body made her feel feminine and small, and as he kissed her, as his sensual mouth moved against hers, she was completely beneath his control….
Then, with a harsh intake of breath, Eduardo pulled away. Taking his phone from his pants pocket, he dialed. “Sanchez,” he panted, never looking away from Callie. “Outside. At the corner.”
Hanging up, he put the phone in his pocket and reached for her, lifting her back into his arms.
“You don’t need to carry me,” she whispered. “I’m not cold.”
He looked down at her almost pleadingly. “Let me.”
Exhaling, she relaxed into the warmth of his arms, and Eduardo carried her back down the path, stopping to pick up each of her shoes, holding Callie with one arm as if she weighed nothing at all. When they reached Central Park South, he put the high-heeled shoes on her feet and gently set her down on the sidewalk.
“Thank you,” she said, shivering, but not from cold.
Without a word, he pulled off his black tuxedo jacket and wrapped it around her bare shoulders and sparkling silver dress. His eyes were dark, his voice deep. “Never thank me. It is what I want to do. Take care of you.”
Callie swallowed, her mouth dry, her heart pounding as she leaned against him. Thick snowflakes, illuminated by streetlights, started to fall from the dark sky. Was it really possible that Eduardo had been celibate for a year, longing for her? That he’d known the same feelings she had … The lonely bed, the regret, and most of all: the endless craving …?
Her mind told her it was impossible, but his kiss had told her differently.
“Callie,” he whispered. “You know what I’m going to do to you when we get home.”
Her heartbeat went crazy, her breathing became quick and shallow and she felt a little dizzy. He wanted her. She wanted him. But the last time he’d made love to her, the joy and heartbreak had nearly killed her. Their marriage was ending in just a few hours. She was so close to being free …
But suddenly, freedom from Eduardo sounded like death. Wrapping her arms around him, she placed her cheek against his white tuxedo shirt and closed her eyes, listening to the beat of his heart. They remained there, holding each other silently, as the soft snowflakes fell in their hair and tangled in their eyelashes.
“The car’s here.” His voice was hoarse. She opened her eyes and he led her into the backseat of the limo. As Sanchez drove them from the curb, Eduardo didn’t seem to care who might see as he turned to her. Reaching out his hands, he cupped her face. He lowered his head toward hers.
At the last instant before their lips touched, she turned her head away. “I can’t.”
“Can’t?” he said hoarsely. “Why? Because—because you love someone else?”
She looked at him in the backseat of the car. His face was so impossibly handsome that her heart twisted in her chest. Every inch of her body was crying out to be in his arms, but lifting her chin, she forced herself to say, “I’m afraid.”
He blinked. “Afraid?”
Afraid it will rip my heart apart so thoroughly that the pieces will never be glued back together. “I’m afraid … it wasn’t part of our deal.” She swallowed. “Our marriage is in name only.”
Eduardo’s sensual lips curved. “What gave you that idea?”
“At the courthouse, when we got the marriage license, you said—”
“You called it a marriage of convenience. Which it is. But I never said it would be a marriage in name only. I promised to remain faithful, and I have. But I cannot suffer, wanting you, for the rest of my life.”
“You don’t have to. Tomorrow is our three-month anniversary. Our marriage is over.” She paused, suddenly confused by the look in his eyes. “Isn’t it?”