He laughed. Then grasped her round the waist and tugged her flush against his body. The kiss was deep, and illicit and unashamedly possessive this time. Before he was forced to rip his mouth away so they could both come up for air. ‘I intend to make sure you regret it in the best possible way,’ he said, the devilish grin and the boyish twinkle in his hazelnut eyes hopelessly compelling.
Her heart bobbed into her throat as he grasped her hand and dragged her out of the bar. The helicopter still stood in the lot—the pilot fending off the crowd of onlookers.
‘Wait a minute, shouldn’t I pack something to wear?’ she asked as she tried to control the rush of exhilaration.
Am I actually spending Thanksgiving weekend with one of the hottest bachelors in Manhattan?
‘Nah,’ he said, tightening his grip as he led her aboard the big black bird. ‘I intend to keep you naked the whole weekend.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
The day after Thanksgiving
‘HEY,COMEBACKHERE. It’s the middle of the night...’ Alex lurched across the bed to catch his Thanksgiving booty call before she scooted away and ruined all the plans he had for that delectable little body.
They’d spent most of Thanksgiving Day in bed, getting reacquainted with the spectacular chemistry that had got him chasing her all the way to a neighbourhood bar in Staten Island two days ago.
He hadn’t regretted the decision one moment since.
Even so, the need still pulsed in his groin as she evaded him and ripped open the drapes on the master bedroom’s picture window.
He swore and threw his arm over his eyes, the light gleaming off the new layer of pure white snow enough to blind him.
‘It’s not the middle of the night, it’s nearly noon. And I’m famished,’ Eleanor declared.
He lowered his arm as she strutted to the pile of clothes by the open fire, which had burned out during the night. Her slender body, and beautiful breasts gilded by the morning light made his chest ache as well as his groin.
Damn.
He sat up, loving the sight of her—all flushed and indignant, her skin glowing from too much sex. Her wild hair—which he’d washed yesterday in the rainfall shower during one of their brief interludes out of bed—haloed around her head in an untamed cloud of chestnut curls and made her stubborn frown and the sprinkle of freckles across her nose all the more adorable.
‘Hey, I fed you yesterday,’ he said, with mock outrage, his good humour returning. So what if she’d evaded him? It wouldn’t take much to lure her back into bed.
His little Scottish spitfire had turned out to be as insatiable as he was. Throwing herself into everything this long weekend had to offer with a vigour that was nothing short of exhilarating.
‘What more do you want?’ he added, enjoying hertskof disapproval.
He’d rustled up steak and eggs at some point yesterday to keep up their stamina, and let her roast marshmallows over the firepit, introducing her to the glory of s’mores, so she didn’t go stir crazy.
‘Well, I need feeding again,’ she said, tugging on a pair of his shorts and making his indignation real. As cute as she looked in his shorts, he preferred her out of them.
‘And what happened to the turkey dinner I was promised?’ she added as she hooked her bra round her waist then conspired to wiggle into it without giving him a flash of the gorgeous breasts he was becoming obsessed with—especially her supremely sensitive nipples.The spoilsport.
He adjusted himself, the heat rushing into his groin to tent the quilt.
‘I never promised you a turkey supper,’ he said. He’d given the five-person staff the weekend off before they’d arrived. He wanted the place to himself, so he and Eleanor could christen every room without fear of interruption. Even in a property with six en-suite bedrooms, a state-of-the art kitchen, a billiard room, a library and a boathouse they were still on target to get it done before they had to head back to civilisation on Sunday night. Cooking anything fancy seemed like a waste of time that could be better spent finding out if he could make her come simply by worshipping her nipples—his latest goal.
‘And anyhow, Thanksgiving was yesterday,’ he added. ‘We missed it.’
She propped her fists on her hips and sent him the indignant glare he’d become addicted to as well.
‘That does not mean we can’t celebrate it today. I can cook the turkey in the fridge for tonight. And you can make pancakes for breakfast.’
‘Oh, can I, now?’ He arched an eyebrow, not sure why he found her ballsy attitude as enjoyable as her responsive nipples. But he did. ‘And who made you the boss of me?’ he said, glad when she choked out a laugh. They’d come a long way from that first night when she’d found his arrogance so aggravating.
‘As if!’ she said, the appreciative once-over making the heat in his groin pulse.
He had never allowed any woman to make domestic demands on him before, but her pragmatism made it seem like no big deal. Which was good. Because it had occurred to him late last night—her sleepy body snuggled against him, the afterglow making his eyelids droop and the firelight shimmering off her hair—he might have given her the wrong impression about where this was all leading by arriving in a chopper to whisk her away for the weekend.