Seduction was this: one look at him in nothing but a towel.
Towering, two hundred pounds-plus of glistening golden skin poured over solid muscle, a sinfully small towel about his hips. Sculpted torso, rippling abs. A small cut marring his muscled chest, from their skirmish yesterday. A dark silky trail of hair disappearing beneath the soft white fabric.
Wet. Little beads of water shimmering on his skin. Thick black hair slicked back from his face, falling in a wet tangle to his waist.
And she knew that if she said the word, he would stretch that incredible body full-length on top of her and—
Chloe made a little puffing noise, as if the air had been knocked out of her. “G’morning,” she managed.
“Madainn mhath, lass,” he purred his reply in Gaelic, steadying her by the elbows. “I trust you slept well without the bonds?”
He may not have tied her, but he’d slept outside her door. She’d heard him out there, moving about. “Yes,” she said a bit breathlessly.
The man was just too beautiful for any woman’s peace of mind.
He stared down at her a long moment. “We’ve much to do before we leave,” he said, releasing her arms. “I’ll be but a few moments getting dressed.”
He skirted around her and went up the stairs. She turned, bemused, watching him with wide eyes. He hadn’t even tried to kiss her, she thought, irritated with him that he hadn’t, and irritated with herself for being irritated that he hadn’t. Heavens, the man filled her with impossible duality. She was determined not to be seduced, yet she relished his seduction. It made her feel utterly feminine and alive.
Holy cow, she thought, watching him. With each step he ascended, the muscles in his legs flexed. Perfect calves, hard-as-rock thighs. Tight butt. Trim waist flaring to muscular shoulders. Absolutely ripped with muscle, he was powerful-looking in a lean, hungry way. Time seemed to spin out dreamily while she watched him.
“Oh!” she gasped suddenly, going rigid with shock.
Had he really done that?
God! How would she ever get that vision of him out of her mind?
At the top of the stairs the blasted man had dropped his towel!
As he was taking that last step. Legs slightly parted. Giving her the briefest glimpse of … oh!
She was still trying to breathe and not succeeding very well, when she heard a soft, husky and very smug laugh.
Shameless womanizer!
Dageus left when Chloe got in the shower. It was either leave, or join her, and she was not yet ready to permit what he needed. Wiser not to imagine stepping into the shower behind her, taking her slippery, wet body in his arms, getting his hands on those magnificent bare breasts. He’d have her in Scotland anon, and there in his beloved land, he would claim her completely.
She would have let him kiss her, he’d seen it in the dilation of her eyes, in the softening of that lush petal-soft mouth.
But there was much to do before they left, and a skilled lover knew there were times when heightening a woman’s anticipation was far more seductive than satisfying it. So, with a provocative bit of aloofness, he’d resisted the kisses he might have claimed and shown her instead what she was denying herself. What she could have if she but said the word. All of him, his insatiable desire, his need, his stamina, his determination to pleasure her as no other man could. Slave to her every carnal wish. He knew she’d seen the heavy weight of his testicles betwixt his legs and the thick head of his shaft below them as he’d taken the last step.
Best she get acquainted with his body now, in slow degrees.
He smiled, as the cab came to a dead stop in bumper-to-bumper traffic, recalling her soft, shocked little gasp. The knowledge that she had never been touched by another man inflamed him. He swallowed, his mouth dry with anticipation.
She’d given him a list of things she needed, and had told him her passport was in her jewelry box. She’d said aye. She’d agreed to come with him. He’d not liked the thought of having to coerce her.
He may not have yet seduced her into his bed, but he’d succeeded in seducing her into his life in countless other ways, each an invisible, silken knot, binding her to him as he lured her deeper into his world.
He was obsessed with her, as he’d never been with any other woman. He wanted to tell her more of his story. He’d been testing the waters last eve, feeling her out, trying to determine how much she might be able to take. He’d never once considered telling a woman aught about himself—particularly not one he hadn’t yet bedded—but the possibility of a woman such as Chloe knowing what he was and choosing to be his woman anyway made the blood burn like fire in his veins. A part of him wanted to cram his reality down her throat, forcing her to accept him, with no excuses offered. A wiser part of him, the man he’d used to be, warned against such ruthlessness.