He could feel the scrape of his stubble along her skin as he shifted position, reminding him again of her softness against his hardness. His tongue found hers again, coiled around it, danced with it, taunted and teased it until it finally gave in to his command.
He sucked on her lower lip, and then he used his teeth to nip and tug at the tender flesh, following it up with a sweep of his tongue and then repeating the process.
Her tongue flicked against his, a sexy little payback that heated his blood to sizzling. Her teeth got into the action, biting him like a tigress did an aggressive mate, showing him she was not going to submit without a fight.
Luiz had never experienced a more enthralling kiss. His whole body was feeling the supercharge of it. Nerve endings were firing in his lips, sensations were racing up and down his spine, and his thighs were trembling with the pressure of holding himself in. He knew if she so much as put her hand on him he would blow.
The doors of the elevator sprang open and he had a deer-in-the-headlights moment as a camera flashed in his face. He smothered a rough curse and dropped his hands from Daisy’s hips.
‘Get a room!’ someone jeered.
Luiz grabbed Daisy’s hand and pulled her behind him. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
* * *
Daisy was bundled into a limousine within seconds of leaving Luiz’s hotel. He was still holding her hand, his long calloused fingers wrapped around hers in a bruising grip. High on his aristocratic cheekbones two flags of dull colour were showing beneath his tan. His coal-black eyes were fixed straight ahead but she had a feeling he wasn’t registering any of the lurid colour and excitement and craziness of the strip as they traversed the length of it.
‘Are you angry with me?’ she asked.
He glanced at her as if he had forgotten she was there. ‘No. Why do you ask that?’
She indicated her hand trapped within his. ‘You’re cutting off my circulation.’
He immediately relaxed his hold but he didn’t release her hand. Rather he began to caress it in slow, soothing strokes. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.’
Daisy looked at his brooding expression. ‘Do the press follow you everywhere?’
‘Just about.’
‘Don’t you find it…annoying?’
‘Sometimes.’
She moved her fingers over the length of his index finger, circling each of his knuckles and then the neat square of his fingernail. ‘Why don’t you do something about it?’
He glanced down at her. ‘Like what?’
‘You could wear a disguise.’
He gave a short laugh. ‘As if that would work.’
‘A lot of celebrities do it. You’d be surprised how effective it is. A wig or a hat or a different style of clothes can make all the difference. When my kindy kids get in the dress-up box it’s impossible to tell who is who. Sometimes even their parents don’t recognise them.’
He looked back at their joined hands, his thumb moving over the back of hers in a rhythmic fashion. ‘It bothers my brother more than it does me. I guess I’m like my mother in that regard. I’ve never shied away from the limelight.’