Eve felt vulnerable.
Exposed.
Her cheeks went hot beneath all the scrutiny. She was grateful when Talos took her hand and led her toward the elevator. She could feel all the men in the lobby stare after her, hear their mournful sighs meld with the click of her stiletto heels on the marble floor. They were probably staring at her backside right now.
Her neck broke out into a cold sweat.
Why were they staring at her?
Then in a flash, she knew.
The dress.
The tiny red dress that she’d taken from her bedroom closet in Buckinghamshire. Compared to the rest of the wardrobe, she’d thought it the simplest, easiest choice, comfortable and casual. It had seemed like a nice, though somewhat small, sundress in stretchy fabric. And since she apparently owned no comfortable shoes whatsoever, she’d chosen the black stiletto sandals, which at least wouldn’t squeeze her toes. After her shower, she’d brushed out her dark hair and tentatively put on the lipstick in her handbag.
She’d hoped she would get used to her own clothes, feel confident in them.
Boy, had she been wrong.
Though the knit fabric was indeed soft and stretchy, it was no match for her pregnant breasts, which spilled out quite distressingly over the top. The stiletto heels made her legs very long but also caused her hips to thrust forward and sway with every commanding step.
Comfortable? Casual?
Her clothes cried out for male attention, and no matter where they went, men’s eyes centered on her. No matter their nationality, no matter their age or profession, men couldn’t stop staring!
She didn’t just look trashy, she realized with a horrified intake of breath. She looked like a tart who got paid by the hour!
When the penthouse door finally closed, and the teenaged bellhop left them with one last surreptitious, appreciative glance at Eve’s breasts, she let out a huge sigh of relief. Thank heaven, she was finally alone with Talos!
Then she realized…
She was alone with Talos.
Nervously, she glanced around the lavish suite. Beneath the frescoed ceiling, a crystal chandelier sparkled over the old paintings, marble fireplace and gilded furniture. Thick, tasseled curtains parted at the wide windows to reveal a veranda that overlooked the canal. Multiple rooms graced the suite, including a living area and elegant bathroom.
But there was only one bed.
The enormous four-poster stood at the center of the suite. Eve couldn’t take her eyes off it.
“Shall we go to dinner?” Talos purred from behind her.
Red-faced, she whirled around to face him, praying he wasn’t able to read minds.
“Dinner? Out?” Thinking of all those leering masculine eyes, she shook her head desperately. “I don’t really feel like going out tonight.”
“Perfect,” he said with a sensual curve of his lips. “So we’ll stay in.”#p#分页标题#e#
He came another step toward her, larger and more powerful than any man had a right to be. This royal suite was the size of a house, and yet he somehow filled every inch of the space, filled it to a breaking point. And if he did that to a four-thousand-square-foot suite…
She could only imagine what he’d do to a woman.
No! she wouldn’t think about that. Her cheeks flushed with heat. Nervously, she turned toward the window, feeling for all the world like a teenage virgin. She looked out the window across the sparkling water toward the Venetian island on the other side of the lagoon. She could see hotels, palazzos, ferries. She could see parked black gondolas rise and fall in the water in the wake of each passing speedboat bringing tourists to St. Mark’s Square.
She felt him touch her shoulder.
“Is this the same hotel we stayed at before?” she stammered. “When we first met?”
“I stayed here alone,” he said, looking down at her. “You refused to come up to my suite.”
She whirled around to face him. “I did?”
“I tried to change your mind.” Reaching down, he caressed her cheek. She took a deep breath at the gentleness of his touch, of his woodsy masculine scent that caused such shivers down her body. He said softly, “You resisted me.”
“I did?” she blurted out. “How?” Then she blushed.
He gave a low laugh. His featherlight fingertips moved down her cheek toward her lips. He touched her so softly that she had to strain to feel him, almost as if he weren’t quite touching her—forcing her to rise to meet him, whether she willed it or no. His fingers ran softly above the length of her tender bottom lip.
He leaned forward to whisper in her ear.
“You made me chase you. Harder and longer than I’ve ever chased any woman. No woman has ever been—will ever be—your equal.”