Read Online Their Secret Baby by Kate Walker - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kate Walker
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hesitation.
‘Three, two, one…’
He reached the landing, paused, looked around him only briefly, and then moved with unerring accuracy in the direction of her room.
The door was kicked open wide, and he carried her inside, only pausing when the darkness of the room, no light coming through the tightly drawn curtains, forced him to a halt.
‘None,’ he muttered, raw and final, and, turning her in his grasp, he lowered her slowly to the floor, letting her slide all the way down the length of his lean body, in an obviously deliberate mirroring of her teasing provocation at the bottom of the stairs.
‘That’s seven kisses you owe me, sweetheart,’ he reminded her, holding her tight when she would have slipped away. ‘You promised.’
‘Only on each step!’ she laughed, shaking her head in the darkness. ‘That was the arrangement.’
‘To hell with the arrangement!’ His voice was a deep, husky growl. ‘Seven kisses I’m owed, and seven kisses I’ll take.’
‘You haven’t earned them!’
But she gave him them all the same, as she had known she would. At least she tried. She started with one kiss, a brief, light, flirtatious caress on his demanding mouth, then dodged away again, meaning to move on to another, similar one almost at once. But two things stopped her.
The man she was kissing and her own powerful sensual hunger.
She kissed him again—and this time she couldn’t get away. Her lips touched his, tasted, lingered, clung. And at the same time his hands came up around her neck, long fingers lacing in the fall of hair, curving against the bones of her skull, holding her unable to move.
And he kissed her thoroughly, hotly, hungrily. Kissed her until her head was swimming crazily and her knees threatened to buckle beneath her.
It was only when they were forced to break apart by the need to snatch in air that Rhys released her. Just enough to move her head back in order to breathe, but no more.
‘Now, that’s a kiss,’ he told her, the air rasping into his starved lungs. ‘Not the silly, half-hearted things you’ve been offering. A proper kiss.’
Caitlin nodded silently, struggling to breathe properly herself.
‘And you owe me six more of those.’
He thought she would fight him, protest at least, but instead she swayed slightly towards him as if yearning to be closer. The faint waft of some warm, richly floral scent combined with the private aroma of her skin tormented his senses cruelly. He wanted to snatch her up again, take her in his arms and carry her to the bed, flinging her down and ripping the clinging dress from her.
He wanted to have her now . To bury himself in her welcoming body, sate himself with her, exhaust himself… That way, he might also drive out the unexpected and unwanted sexual pull she had for him. He had never anticipated wanting this woman so much when what he had come for was the opposite of sensual. He thought he had come for revenge. To be avenged on her for the way that she had taken his child, and kept her from him. He had thought that he could take that revenge and walk away.
Instead he found that he was obsessed by her, entangled in the sexual web she had woven around him. And he could not free himself until he knew if she could deliver what she seemed to promise. Until he had possessed her totally, steeped himself in the sensual delights her body offered.
But the tiniest lingering vestiges of common sense told him that he should take this more slowly, seduce rather than take her. He wanted her totally his in every way possible. Only then would she be unable to resist him, both physically and mentally.
‘Is there a light in this room?’ he asked, punctuating the words with a drift of kisses over her face, invisible in the darkness. ‘I can’t see a damn thing.’
Not that he was complaining. Not really. The blindness brought by the lack of light only served to heighten every other one of his senses, making them sharper, much more forceful,
‘Three, two, one…’
He reached the landing, paused, looked around him only briefly, and then moved with unerring accuracy in the direction of her room.
The door was kicked open wide, and he carried her inside, only pausing when the darkness of the room, no light coming through the tightly drawn curtains, forced him to a halt.
‘None,’ he muttered, raw and final, and, turning her in his grasp, he lowered her slowly to the floor, letting her slide all the way down the length of his lean body, in an obviously deliberate mirroring of her teasing provocation at the bottom of the stairs.
‘That’s seven kisses you owe me, sweetheart,’ he reminded her, holding her tight when she would have slipped away. ‘You promised.’
‘Only on each step!’ she laughed, shaking her head in the darkness. ‘That was the arrangement.’
‘To hell with the arrangement!’ His voice was a deep, husky growl. ‘Seven kisses I’m owed, and seven kisses I’ll take.’
‘You haven’t earned them!’
But she gave him them all the same, as she had known she would. At least she tried. She started with one kiss, a brief, light, flirtatious caress on his demanding mouth, then dodged away again, meaning to move on to another, similar one almost at once. But two things stopped her.
The man she was kissing and her own powerful sensual hunger.
She kissed him again—and this time she couldn’t get away. Her lips touched his, tasted, lingered, clung. And at the same time his hands came up around her neck, long fingers lacing in the fall of hair, curving against the bones of her skull, holding her unable to move.
And he kissed her thoroughly, hotly, hungrily. Kissed her until her head was swimming crazily and her knees threatened to buckle beneath her.
It was only when they were forced to break apart by the need to snatch in air that Rhys released her. Just enough to move her head back in order to breathe, but no more.
‘Now, that’s a kiss,’ he told her, the air rasping into his starved lungs. ‘Not the silly, half-hearted things you’ve been offering. A proper kiss.’
Caitlin nodded silently, struggling to breathe properly herself.
‘And you owe me six more of those.’
He thought she would fight him, protest at least, but instead she swayed slightly towards him as if yearning to be closer. The faint waft of some warm, richly floral scent combined with the private aroma of her skin tormented his senses cruelly. He wanted to snatch her up again, take her in his arms and carry her to the bed, flinging her down and ripping the clinging dress from her.
He wanted to have her now . To bury himself in her welcoming body, sate himself with her, exhaust himself… That way, he might also drive out the unexpected and unwanted sexual pull she had for him. He had never anticipated wanting this woman so much when what he had come for was the opposite of sensual. He thought he had come for revenge. To be avenged on her for the way that she had taken his child, and kept her from him. He had thought that he could take that revenge and walk away.
Instead he found that he was obsessed by her, entangled in the sexual web she had woven around him. And he could not free himself until he knew if she could deliver what she seemed to promise. Until he had possessed her totally, steeped himself in the sensual delights her body offered.
But the tiniest lingering vestiges of common sense told him that he should take this more slowly, seduce rather than take her. He wanted her totally his in every way possible. Only then would she be unable to resist him, both physically and mentally.
‘Is there a light in this room?’ he asked, punctuating the words with a drift of kisses over her face, invisible in the darkness. ‘I can’t see a damn thing.’
Not that he was complaining. Not really. The blindness brought by the lack of light only served to heighten every other one of his senses, making them sharper, much more forceful,
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