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At the Brazilian's Command(11)

By:Susan Stephens


Just as Tiago had promised, the terms of the contract were solid  enough. She'd been given everything she'd asked for, and to build her  confidence before she took this final step Tiago had pressed an open  first-class airline ticket home into her hands, and told her she could  bail out at any time. Yet even now she felt she'd sold out.

Or, as Tiago had so romantically put it, ‘Congratulations, chica!  You've got the guts to seize the opportunity of a lifetime and share my  bed.'

Yes, she knew he'd been teasing her, in that old, tormenting way, but  this time she hadn't fired back. The reality of intimacy with Tiago was  only just dawning on her. Yes, of course she knew that intimacy was part  of any married couple's life, and Tiago had said that their marriage  would be as close to normal as it could be for a year, but she was  certain that sharing his bed would be very different from her fantasies.

‘I said I'd carry it,' she insisted now, attempting to wrestle back her case.

‘Too late,' Tiago told her.

Five minutes into the trip and they were already at odds. What did that  say about her decision to do this? Tiago was holding the car door open,  waiting for her impatiently. There was no going back now. She was  leaving everything familiar behind.

Yes, but to embark on an adventure. If she wasn't up to it she had better decide now.

She hurried down the steps to join him.

The car dropped them off at the side of a sleek executive jet, which  Tiago and his team would pilot to Brazil, he'd explained. And just in  case she was still uncertain as to her status, ‘Santos Inc' was written  in bold blood-red down the side of the fuselage. She really was entering  another world-and it was a faster moving world than she was used to.

‘There's no time to hang around,' Tiago insisted, seizing her arm. ‘My take-off slot is non-negotiable.'

He wasn't joking. He indicated left rather than right once they were inside the cabin.

‘Into the cockpit?' she queried.

‘I thought you might like to sit with me when we take off. If you prefer you can sit in the back?'

‘No. This is good.' Normally she was a nervous passenger, but since  everything else had changed why not this too? ‘Thank you...'

Thankfully, she sounded so cool, so certain-but her emotions were in a riot. ‘I've always wanted to sit next to the pilot.'

‘You won't be sitting next to me. That's the co-pilot's job. But you will still see everything.'

Probably a lot more than she wanted to, Danny thought ruefully, hoping some of Tiago's confidence would wash off on her.

‘If you're having second thoughts...it's too late.' He slanted her that  dangerous smile that flooded his eyes with amusement and reached all  parts of her too. ‘There's a bedroom in the back,' he added, ‘if you  need it.'

‘Hopefully not. And I'm not having second thoughts,' she assured him.

‘Not yet,' he said dryly. ‘It's a long flight, Danny, so go to bed if you have to.'

‘What about you?'

‘Don't worry about me,' he murmured, with one last look.

They took off smoothly, with Tiago handling the jet with the same easy  skill he employed on his horses. When they reached cruising height and  levelled off he handed over control of the plane to his co-pilot and  came to ask Danny how she'd liked the new experience.

Having turned at just the wrong moment, he caught her chewing her lip  as she tried to work out if this was the best decision of her life, or  the biggest screw-up ever. It didn't help when she looked at the man who  would shortly be her husband. Her body thrilled at the thought, though  she still had major concerns.

Flying a jet was all in a day's work for Tiago-as was running a  multi-national business and playing polo at international level-while  she had a neat line in handing out pony nuts, and not a clue when it  came to negotiating contracts, let alone those with a marriage clause  involved.

She would just have to be a fast learner, Danny concluded as Tiago smiled down at her.

* * *

A couple of hours later she was glad to take him up on his offer to use  the bedroom in the back of the plane, and was surprisingly snug between  crisp white sheets in a very comfortable bed when the door opened.                       
       
           



       

‘Coffee?'

She shot up, and only belatedly remembered to yank the covers to her  chin. Having stripped off her clothes, she was naked, while Tiago had  rolled back the sleeves of his crisp white shirt, leaving his powerful  forearms bare. Her body clenched with pleasure at the sight. There  should be a law against being so attractive.

‘Sit up,' he urged, putting the coffee down on the nightstand at her  side. ‘Drink your coffee before it gets cold. Do you have everything you  need?'

She wasn't sure she could answer him honestly, and confined herself to a prim ‘Thank you for the coffee.'

His lips slanted in a smile. ‘Aren't you going to invite me to sit down?'

‘No.' When he looked at her like that? Absolutely not.

He sat down anyway. She held her breath as he made himself comfortable.  Kicking off his boots, he arranged the pillows to his liking and lay  down.

‘Are you quite comfortable there?' she enquired sarcastically.

Tiago turned his head to shoot her an amused glance. ‘Very. Why?'

Sitting up in bed, she drew her knees up to her chin. Sipping the  steaming coffee, she allowed her hair to cover her face like a curtain,  to hide her burning cheeks.

‘Am I keeping you?' he growled.

She have him a look. ‘From drinking my coffee?'

‘I don't know, chica. You seem tense to me. Are you naked under those sheets?'

Tiago reached out to hook some hair behind her ear and she exhaled with  shock. But then, just as she relaxed, he touched her naked thigh.

‘You are naked...' His mouth tugged in a lazy smile. ‘Silky smooth skin  and silky hair.' He wound a strand of her hair around his finger, and  then, taking the coffee mug from her hands, placed it safely on the  nightstand out of reach.

‘Relax,' he murmured, his mouth curving in a smile. ‘This is a long flight. Why not enjoy it?'

Because...

Her throat closed down before she could say anything. Tiago's touch was  so exciting. He aroused her. He made her want more. Much more.

He took his time to soothe and stir her, and before long she had eased  down in the bed as he continued to stroke and kiss her...her arms, her  neck, the top of her chest above the swell of her breasts. It all seemed  so safe and innocent. He had that down to a tee.

When she opened her eyes it was to find Tiago turned on his side,  watching her. To have him monitor her responses aroused her even more,  and a shaking breath shivered out of her as his big hand cupped her  breast. His palm was so warm and firm, and a little roughened from his  work with horses. He had intuitive hands, intuitive fingers, and when he  shifted position to move over her, and his dangerous, swarthy dark face  blocked out the light-blocked out everything but Tiago-she was more  conscious than ever of his size and his strength. And also his  willpower, and his control, and that aroused her too.

She held her breath with excitement when he stopped, wondering what would come next.

Making her comfortable on the pillows, he drew the covers back and  stared down at her body, and for once in her life she didn't rush to  cover herself. She wanted Tiago to look at her. She didn't want any  secrets between them. She wanted him to see her body respond to him.  Exposed like this.

His touch when he stroked her breasts was on another level. She tried  to stay still but found it impossible, and with a whimper of need she  reached out for him.

Tiago smiled. His dark eyes burned with hunger but he had more control  than she had, and even as she writhed beneath him, trying to urge him  on, he only dipped his head to brush her lips with his. That was almost  enough, that kiss, but he denied her the weight of his body. His kisses  fired her, his fingers teased her, and she was agonisingly responsive to  his touch, but nothing she could do would make him do more.

He curved a smile. ‘I'm the luckiest man on earth.'

She was aching-really aching. She needed his firm touch now.

She gasped with relief as he returned to the assault on her senses,  using firm strokes across her belly and down her thighs. And all the  time he held her gaze in his.

She cried out when his hand finally found its destination. Easing her  legs apart, he teased around her clitoris with a touch that was  indescribable, while she lifted her hips in a hunt for more contact,  crying out in desperation, not caring what he thought. She needed  this-needed him. She needed this now.

At first she thought he was only going to tease her and leave her  aching, but as if he could sense the level of her need he relented.  Using one gloriously roughened finger-pad, he applied just the right  amount of pressure, just the right amount of friction, at just the right  speed.