Bedded at the Billionaire's Convenience(51)

Georgie discovered that the last thing she wanted was for him to go. She squirmed until she was facing him, her legs straddling his hips, then she lightly sat on him, feeling his hardness rub against her tights and underwear, powerful and rigid even through the layers of cloth separating them.

Since this was precisely what he had wanted, he could barely believe himself as he pushed her very gently off him and stood up.#p#分页标题#e##p#分页标题#e#

Georgie looked up at him in disbelief.

‘Don’t look at me like that.’ He raked his fingers through his hair and half sighed, half groaned. ‘Don’t think it’s not what I want. It is. I’ve told you how I feel about you. Twice now by my reckoning.’

‘Don’t go. I don’t want you to go.’

‘You’ve had too much to drink. Call me old-fashioned—’ he gave a crooked smile ‘—but I’ve never taken advantage of a woman under the influence of drink.’

‘I won’t tell if you don’t.’ She pulled the jumper over her head, revelling in the way he went completely still, as if he had drawn in his breath and could not now release it.

It felt good not to have the wool rubbing against her skin.

In one swift, easy movement, she removed her bra and then she lay back on the sofa and looked at him drowsily. She could see his bulging arousal and, taking her cue from that, she lifted her hands to her breasts and trailed her fingers across her nipples. They tightened into stiff buds and she moaned softly.

Pierre looked at her, mesmerised. Her body was smooth and pale and as she breathed her breasts rose and fell, small and pert and her perfect, pink nipples…He briefly closed his eyes to block out the tantalising image.

‘I like you looking at me,’ Georgie said, and Pierre wondered whether she would be saying that were she stone-cold sober. More likely she would have coldly thanked him for a nice evening and then shut the door quietly but firmly in his face. She reached to pull down her skirt but before she could take that step further he was in front of her, lifting her from the sofa and, regardless of her alcohol intake, he slung her over his shoulder and headed for the stairs while she fruitlessly pummelled his back with her fists and demanded to be put down immediately.

‘No chance,’ Pierre muttered savagely under his breath. ‘You’re going to bed right now for both our sakes.’

It didn’t help him that he was very much aware of her breasts squashing against his shoulder blades.

Her room was in complete darkness. Didn’t the woman leave any lights on when she left the house at night? Or did she think it was fun to fumble blindly for switches?

While he fumbled, she continued to complain but she fell silent as he laid her on her bed and stood back to look at her cautiously.

‘I’ll bring you up some water.’

‘Okay.’

‘Good. Okay.’ He hovered, frowning. ‘Stay right there,’ he added pointlessly and she nodded.

Literally he ran and then returned to the bedroom, taking the stairs two at a time. She was already beginning to drift off. He left the glass by the bedside table and then went across to the window and drew the curtains.

And that was how Georgie awoke, disoriented, wrenched out of sleep by the weirdest of dreams and now up, incredibly thirsty.

As her eyes adjusted she blinked, trying to get her bearings, and gave a little startled yelp at the shadowy bulk in the chair by the window.

Without thinking, she switched on the bedside light, and at the same time Pierre stirred and in the thick silence their eyes tangled. Belatedly, Georgie realised that she was undressed. No top, no skirt, no tights. The memory of the night before came in a rush, the wine, her impromptu striptease on the sofa, being carried upstairs, caveman-style. The only gap in her memory was how she ended up completely undressed and she assumed he had done that, eased her skirt off along with her tights. And instead of going, he had stayed, was here now.

She wrapped her arms over her exposed breasts.

‘I’ll go.’ Pierre stood up. ‘How do you feel?’#p#分页标题#e##p#分页标题#e#

‘I feel…’ she frowned and looked up at him, towering in darkness at the side of her bed ‘…very sober now. A little thirsty, but that’s all.’ She took the water from the side table and drank a long mouthful. ‘And I feel that I still don’t want you to go, Pierre.’

‘What’s changed?’ he heard himself asking. Having wilfully created a window of opportunity, he now, perversely, felt uncomfortable with the outcome, even though it was in his favour. He couldn’t work it out. Was it because she was just so much more vulnerable than the women he had dated in the past? ‘The last time we spoke you told me in no uncertain terms that sex was all about the fairy-tale ending.’