CHAPTER SEVEN
“WE’LLSTAYABOARDTONIGHT.” Leander’s thick voice dragged her back to herself. His gaze was smoldering as he eased his hand from between them.
Ilona was still trembling and so embarrassed, she wished she would die of it. Please. Right now. An iceberg. Anything.
He was holding her up because she was still clinging to him. Had she really let him touch her like that? And make her orgasm while he was fully dressed and in complete control of his own body? He was aroused, yes. The press of his erection against her was unmistakable, but he wasn’t panting and melted and falling apart the way she just had.
“Unless you want to forget about saying good-night to our guests? I could definitely be talked into not leaving this room for the rest of the week.” His teeth were at her earlobe again, letting her feel the scrape of them.
Even as her hair seemed to stand on end with renewed stimulation, she knew she couldn’t sleep with him. For a multitude of reasons, not least of which was the fact he had the power to make her forget every one of those reasons.
With an inner cringe, she realized people would be noting their absence and their change of attire when they reappeared. Rumors would get back to Odessa that something had happened in here and that could turn ugly very fast.
“I’ll go out first,” she decided, opening the hands that were clenched in his shirt and pressing him back.
“Good idea. I need a minute,” he said wryly before catching her lips in a final, pulse-fluttering kiss that had her mouth clinging so helplessly to his.
He closed himself into the bathroom, but she stayed exactly where she was, still too shaken to move. Too mortified. Scared.
For all those rumors Odessa had circulated about how promiscuous Ilona was, she was actually a virgin. Sex meant babies and, much as she yearned for a family, she knew how vulnerable children made a woman. She didn’t remember much about her mother, but she remembered her counting out money and crying. She remembered her watching Ilona eat without placing a plate in front of herself.
And that was without someone actively trying to destroy her because she had dared to have a child.
She couldn’t stay the night with Leander! She wasn’t on the pill or anything.
Pushing off the mirror, she turned to confront herself and, even though he had just rewritten everything she had believed about her sexual self, she looked remarkably untouched. Her trousers needed retying, but they were barely wrinkled. Her nipples were still tender, but they were relaxed beneath the soft knit. Her makeup was unsmudged and she only had to reapply the lipstick that had faded through the evening.
Her hand wasn’t quite steady, but she managed it. Then she sat to fasten her wedge heels with their ribbon ties.
She wasn’t fast enough. Leander emerged as she was rising. She turned to give herself a final inspection, mostly to avoid his gaze.
“People are going to think what they think, Ilona. Screw them.” He held out a hand. “Let’s finish this so I can have you to myself.”
She didn’t tell him she would leave as planned, thinking it was better to wait until they’d both cooled off.
Despite her intense self-consciousness and latent tension, the rest of the evening was pleasant, if disconcerting. Each time her arm brushed Leander’s or he glanced toward her, a spike of renewed desire shot through her, shutting down her brain and amping her nerve endings back to life.
Finally, the guests were filing off the yacht, all professing the party a wonderful night.
Then Mira proved herself to be the drunk who had ruined Leander’s shirt. She lurched out of her husband’s arm and jabbed her sharp fingernail into Ilona’s breastbone.
“She knows what you’re doing,” she slurred. “You think you can cash in with a baby? She won’t allow it. She told me she won’t.”
Theodore muttered an imprecation and firmly steered Mira off the yacht while the handful of remaining guests pretended nothing had happened.
Ilona could feel the demand for answers radiating off Leander’s stiff presence, though.
As the last guest departed, Feodor approached. “I think that went well. I’ll see you Monday?”
“I’m coming back with you,” Ilona said, swallowing the nervous quaver that arrived in her voice. “Would you mind fetching my things?” She didn’t look at Leander.
“Of cour—”
“I’ll take you in my car,” Leander told her. “Feodor can drop Androu.”
Feodor bounced his surprised gaze to Leander then back to Ilona. As the silence drew out, he said, “I’ll fetch your bag,” adeptly solving half the problem and leaving them to work out the rest.
“I’ll have the cars brought around.” Androu hurried away in the opposite direction.