Carol Marinelli – The Royal House of Karedes: One Family: Ruthless Boss, Royal Mistress / The Desert King's Housekeeper Bride / Wedlocked: Banished Sheikh, Untouched Queen (страница 18)

The vague compliment tacked onto the litany of failures got to her. An OK night? OK? For everyone else in that room it had been brilliant. And he knew it. Her defence mechanisms slowly started to crank up.

‘I’ll give you one last chance.’

She didn’t know whether to be pleased or to laugh in his face. ‘Last chance?’ Didn’t he get it yet? She’d failed. She was never going to ‘get’ this.

His stance looked indolent but his eyes were intent. ‘Do it again.’

‘Pardon?’ She just wasn’t following his conversation.

‘I want another party. Bigger, better. With everyone we need here.’

Her attention snapped to his words.

‘You have a quarter of the original budget and one week to do it.’

Another party? Another gala ball with all those people plus the media? With no money? ‘You’re kidding.’

‘That’s what I want. That’s what you’ll do.’

‘I can’t do it. Do you know how hard it was to get all those flowers shipped here? I can’t repeat any of it. Most of the guests will be the same. They’ll expect different. They’ll expect more.’

‘You better come up with something else, then, hadn’t you? Something better. Something cheaper. Something quick.’

She stared. The full reality of what he was asking hit her. ‘I can’t,’ she whispered.

He stood, drawing up to his full height, and walked nearer. ‘I didn’t think you’d be one to turn down a challenge, princess.’

There were challenges and there was asking the impossible.

But as he came closer her body tightened, and her fighting spirit returned. Maybe it was the rush of adrenalin at his proximity, but suddenly she was sick of his escalating demands. Tonight had been a good party; he could at least admit that.

‘I know you can do this.’ He put his hands on her shoulders. ‘You can, Elissa.’

It was those softly spoken words, and his rare use of her name, that really got her back up.

‘I’m not a child, James. You don’t need to jolly me into it.’ She shrugged her shoulders and his hands lifted off. Determined to get at least some credit from him, she went into battle mode. ‘Tonight was a success. So I screwed up a couple of things. But it was still a damn good party.’

He said nothing and she rallied to press the point. ‘The food was incredible.’

‘It was.’

Wow. A concession. She pushed for another. ‘The ballroom looked amazing.’

‘It did.’

‘The guests were all A-list.’

‘They were.’

‘The champagne fountain was just awesome.’

‘It was.’

She glared at him, all the more irritated because he’d agreed with her so easily, so calmly, so less than effusive. Now she really felt like a good argument. She wanted to win, damn it.

His mouth twitched. ‘So. You’ll be organising the next one, then?’

She tossed her head back. Looked him straight in the eye. ‘You’re all challenge, aren’t you, James?’

His eyes flared, flickered down. Then he drawled in that soft way that had all her senses on alert, ‘So, my princess, are you.’

Instantly everything changed. The underlying cause of their intent awareness was pushed forefront. She forgot the party, forgot the job, could focus only on the here and now—on him and her and how they were going to sort each other out, finally. ‘How are you going to handle this challenge, then?’

‘You mean you?’

Her nod was slight, her body held still by the fiery, physical promise of his—so close but not quite there. She was sick of the way he held back.

‘The way I always like to handle a challenge.’ And suddenly he wasn’t holding back. His fingers touched her shoulders again but it was different this time—firmer, more forceful. Sizzling. ‘Hands on and in control.’

‘Hands on is good.’ She tilted her head back to look right into his face—to invite, to dare. ‘But I don’t believe you’ll be in control.’

‘Who’ll be in control, then?’ His head lowered, his gleaming eyes mesmerising her as he whispered the question.

‘Neither of us,’ she whispered back.

Amusement. Appreciation. Anticipation.

From his expression, he felt it too.

‘I guess that way we’ll be even.’ His fingers traced over her collarbones. ‘There’s still one outstanding problem, though.’

‘What’s that?’ She didn’t want any more delays. She didn’t want any more discussion.

Action was all she wanted now.

His smile widened and was as wicked as it could get. ‘We still haven’t worked out who’s going to be on top.’

Her smile matched his in both intensity and naughtiness. ‘The princess is always on top.’

‘That right?’ He was so close she could see the myriad golden brown flecks in his eyes and the way his pupils were swelling. ‘We can start that way if you like, then see what happens.’

In the second she saw herself straddling his naked body, sanity stared her in the face. Sleeping with James would probably end in disaster. But her job was pretty much a disaster anyway. She might as well have the one experience she’d been wanting more than anything for the last three weeks. It would probably only be a one-off. She was, after all, just a party plaything. She already knew he didn’t want anything more.

So why not be selfish, as everyone expected her to be, and do what she wanted? And she wanted him. Really badly, right now.

He knew. The confident strokes across her skin reflected his understanding. He wasn’t asking. He didn’t need to. He’d already started. His lips brushed her cheekbone and he muttered, ‘It’s time we dealt with it.’

Her eyelids fluttered at his caress. He kissed down her cheekbone and her eyes closed completely. She swayed forward, held her head up to his and parted her lips.

He kissed her then. And how he could kiss. Her glass slipped from her fingers and she collapsed into him, his arms tightened and she kissed him back, wanting to inflame him further. Wanting him to want her the way she did him—out of control, out of this world.

She thought of nothing, only let herself feel the sensations of his mouth on hers, his tongue searching, seeking the response she was only too happy to give.

His hands were blessedly firm on her body and she reached up, to run her hands down his back, measure his breadth and strength with the tips of her fingers, with the heel of her palm as she pressed him closer, circling her hips to press against his in the rhythm that came so naturally and that she knew would stir him into action.

He thrust one hand into her hair, holding the back of her head to his; the other hand pushed the small of her back, driving her belly into his hips, stopping her wriggles but making her more than aware of his hard erection. Without lifting his head he walked her backwards. She kept her eyes closed and let him, knowing he was getting them to his bedroom—to comfort and space. She was so hot she’d have taken him then and there—on the floor, the chair—she didn’t care, she just wanted…

His hand lifted from her waist and she heard a click. Opening her eyes at last, she saw they’d made it to his room and he’d flicked on one of the bedside lights, giving a soft glow to the room. The thick curtains were drawn and the bed was big and some kind soul had already turned back the covering. The sheets were pale in the dim light and she looked forward to feeling their cool comfort on her burning skin…

She lifted her face for another kiss but he dropped to his knees, sliding his hands from her thighs to her feet.

She looked down as he circled his fingers and thumb around the bottom of each leg, amazed and enthralled at the sight of him, in a tux, on his knees at her feet. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Worshipping your ankles. You have the most shapely ankles and calves I’ve ever seen.’

‘It’s the high heels,’ she explained, but feeling stupidly pleased by the compliment all the same.

‘No. I’ve seen you walking barefoot in my office. Your legs are incredible.’

Sitting back on his heels, he toyed with her skirt, flaring out the material and creating a cool breeze on her thighs. She felt the need to rock against him again. Felt the need to make him move faster.

‘Are you going to have a look under my dress?’

‘I’m going to have more than a look.’ His mouth was hot and open and wet as he began to press it on the start of her thigh, slowly moving across skin, and up. She stretched a hand down, reaching his hair, twisting her fingers through it, restlessly beginning to move against him. His jaw was warm and slightly rough and she wanted him to go even higher.

Suddenly he stood, with pleasure she saw the hint of breathlessness, the heightened colour in both his cheeks and eyes. Her hands lifted and she took the advantage, pressing her lower body to his and quickly unfastening the buttons on his shirt. She wanted to touch him, to taste him, to make him take her fast and furious. She kissed the expanse of golden skin, quick and hot kisses with her tongue flickering and her teeth nipping; she rocked faster against him, wanting to make him explode.

For moments he let her do it and she felt his tension building as he stood still under her ministrations. Then with a growl his hands came back to her hips, holding them while thrusting his forward to dig into her and she lifted her face to let his mouth plunder hers. She wanted to shriek yes as his kiss deepened, feeding and fuelling the hunger that had her so desperate.