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The great room flowed directly into a dining area that housed a large round table with eight overstuffed chairs set around it. Another half-dozen windows graced the expansive dining room walls, providing extraordinary views of the lake and glimpses of the woods as well as letting in even more natural light.

Brielle found herself smiling. She could definitely live there. The house was beautiful and spacious. From the dining room, she wandered directly into the kitchen. The floor plan was open so it was easy to see that anyone cooking could visit with guests in the great room or the dining room. The door to the back patio was open in invitation and she could see Elie outside, sitting at a table, coffee mug in hand while he talked on his phone. He had a frown on his face, his expression very serious.

She poured herself a cup of coffee without exploring the kitchen, one of the rooms she would have otherwise been the most interested in, but she didn’t want to miss whatever was putting that expression on Elie’s usually difficult-to-read face. Bracing herself, she sauntered out and gave him a quick smile as he looked up.

Immediately, Elie told whoever was on the other end that he had to go and ended the call. His gaze collided with hers, then drifted over her with that hint of possession and raw desire that sent her stomach into a riot of conflicting emotions.

“I thought you might sleep much later. How are you feeling?”

“Much better. I found the coffee.” She held up the mug, thankful to have something to put in front of her like a shield. “The house is so beautiful, Elie. I love everything about it.”

He nodded, his brief smile already fading. “We own the piers as well as the boats. Do you know how to drive a boat?”

She shook her head. “I can catch on though. I’m a fairly fast learner.” She walked around the exposed aggregate river rock patio, trying not to appear nervous. The terrace had quite an impressive view overlooking the lake. The table with the umbrella where Elie was seated was round and made of wrought iron. Four chairs surrounded it. Across from it was a larger rectangle table made of cement with chairs around it as well. Just a step down was grass with a large round fire pit in the middle of it. Trees shaded their side of the lake, planted in large rounded beds at the end of the landscaping overlooking the retaining wall. The lake was beautiful, and even with the choppy waves, it was peaceful.

“Come sit down and drink your coffee with me.”

She didn’t want to look at Elie, not when he was so gorgeous and sexy, especially first thing in the morning. Okay, all the time. “It’s just there’s so much to see.”

“Brielle, come here.”

He was using that voice. Smooth velvet over steel. Her heart pounded. She turned her head first, a cautious action to see if she dared face him. Her stomach somersaulted. Why did he have to look like he did? Her gaze collided with his. Those dark eyes were so compelling. Reluctantly, she forced herself to cross the patio to the table.

Elie didn’t give her the chance to take the chair directly across from him. He held out the one closest to him, so that she would have a view of the lake. She sank into it, placing the mug of coffee on the table in front of her.

He bent his head toward hers, blotting out everything around her with his wide shoulders and thick chest. Then his mouth was on hers, his lips gentle, barely skimming hers, but it felt like the lick of a flame. She gasped and one large palm curled around the nape of her neck, while the other curved around her throat, tilting her head back to give him better access as he took full advantage, kissing her with a slow, purposeful building heat that fast went from smoldering to scorching.

Brielle’s brain fogged. Her body went into meltdown, an instant response, electricity running along her nerve endings, crackling with life, like little lightning strikes running all the way from her breasts to her sex, straight to her clit. There was no thinking, only reacting, only kissing him back, surrendering. Giving herself wholly to him.

Elie’s kiss was gentle. Tender even. Filled with fire. With possession. With hunger. He wasn’t rough at all, but the hint was there in that edge of hunger. In the dark lust stark in his eyes when he lifted his head and his gaze roamed her face with satisfaction.

The fingers surrounding her throat slid lower to stroke the bare skin exposed by the open buttons of her blouse. The pads of his fingers rasped across the swell of her breasts. Immediately her nipples were little hot points of flames begging for his attention. Blood pounded in her clit.

Her gaze dropped from his to the front of his trousers. The bulge there was satisfactory, hard and thick, pressed tight against the immaculate pinstriped material. At least she wasn’t alone in her reaction. She licked her lips, her mouth salivating. She wondered what he would do if she lowered his zipper and tried to swallow him down the way she did in all her fantasies.

She was too shy to follow through, but she hoped he would at least want to consummate their marriage. She felt desperate for him. Elie brushed a kiss on top of her head and slid into the chair beside her. As he did, he removed the towel she’d wound around her hair like a turban. Her hair fell in spirals and ringlets down her back.

“Why do you have your hair wrapped up in a towel? It will dry fast in this heat.”

She held out her hand for the towel, annoyed that she couldn’t quite control the trembling. She was still shivering with need. “My hair is really thick and wavy. In this humidity, it will get frizzy. I’ll need to put tons of product in it to manage any kind of decent hairstyle.”

“Your natural hair is beautiful.” He tucked the towel on the other side of him.

“I appreciate you thinking that, but it won’t be once the humidity gets to it. Really, Elie, if I keep my hair in a towel, I can deal with it later.” She was reasonably proud of her voice. It didn’t shake nearly as bad as her insides. She wrapped her hands around her coffee mug and stared at the lake. They really did have a wonderful view.

“For me, would you just this once let it go natural? No one is around. You can always put it up and get it wet again tomorrow morning.”

When he asked in that low, gentle voice, how could she possibly resist? It wasn’t that big of a deal and he’d see what a complete fiasco her hair would become. It could grow enough for six people and frizz so she looked silly. But he was right—she could put it up or braid it.

“Sure. As long as no one else is coming around. I’m feeling as if I made a bit of a fool of myself yesterday. Facing your friends isn’t going to be so easy.” She flicked him a quick glance from under her lashes. “I’m sure you noticed how attractive all those women are.”

“The Ferraro women?”

Elie very casually cupped the side of her face, which made her almost drop her coffee mug. She’d just gotten the courage to raise it halfway to her lips, believing she wouldn’t spill the contents all over the table. His thumb slid over her lips.

“Not a single one of those women is more attractive than you. In any case, no one heard anything said when we were talking in the middle of the aisle. Stefano is bound to secrecy by the oath of his office as head of the riders of Chicago. He can’t even talk to Francesca about anything said between us. You have nothing to worry about, Brielle.”

The pad of his thumb caressed her lips one last time and then slipped away, leaving her heart beating a little bit too fast. She was too aware of him, and this close, she couldn’t quite breathe right.


Tags: Christine Feehan Shadow Riders Fantasy