Page 29 of The Heir Affair

He did not regret that decision. It had been the right one to make at the time. But even so, he had wanted her to know he understood her distress. He didn’t believe it would change anything, nor did he really understand the knee-jerk decision to confide in her. And that disturbed him. Because surely letting her see such a weakness would give her ammunition against him?

Weirdly though, instead of exploiting that moment of weakness, Poppy had shown compassion for that boy—even though that boy was long gone.

He did not understand her willingness to forgive his autocratic behaviour either. But he was not about to look that gift horse in the mouth, if it meant they could visit Sorrento without her trying to escape from him.

While he had no illusions she would allow him to make all the decisions that needed to be made from now on—in a strange way he no longer resented her refusal to obey him as much. While her insistence on buying her own dress had annoyed him, the battle of wills that had followed had been…well, hot.

‘Fabulous and only four euros!’ She held the newly purchased bag of figs aloft like a prize, her triumphant smile dazzling him… And reminding him of that day in spring when she had looked at him with the same sunny expression brightening her face.

He had missed that smile.

She plucked a fig from her haul and tore one open, peeling away the purple skin to reveal the red seeded flesh beneath. ‘They smell so fresh and delicious,’ she said. Then she bit into the fruit. ‘And they taste even better.’

Not as good as you do.

She grinned, licking the syrup off her lips.

The vicious shot of arousal made him tense.

She held out the half-eaten fruit. ‘Have a taste.’

His throat dried at the artless invitation. Did she have any idea how seductive she was? Her lips shiny with juice, her eyes bright with accomplishment and her expression open and uncomplicated again, as it had been the day they’d met.

He captured her wrist to guide her hand to his mouth, then angled the fruit so he could bite into the flesh in the same spot her lips had touched.

Her eyes widened as he swallowed the mouthful then devoured the rest of the sweet, fragrant fig, dragging his teeth across the skin. He plucked the used fruit from her fingers to drop it into a nearby bin, then lifted her wrist, and licked her fingertips clean.

Each slow lave of his tongue made her shudder. He captured her thumb between his lips, and drew it into his mouth, sucking it the way he wanted to suck the bud of her sex until shecame. And suddenly he knew, whatever the complications of this relationship, and the many arguments no doubt in their future, he would not be able to let her go—not for a while.

‘Delicious,’ he murmured, finally releasing her hand.

Her breath guttered out in a sob of surprise. And awareness.

He banded an arm around her hips, unable to resist the invitation in her eyes to drag her closer.

Shocked arousal had dilated her pupils to black. Flush against him, with her protruding belly cradled between them, she had to be able to feel the reaction he could not control.

He leant down to whisper against her ear.

‘Let us return to the yacht and finish the figs in my bed,’ he said. ‘Then we may return to Sorrento later if you wish, before we set sail.’

It wasn’t a question.

She bucked against his hold, but he could see the desire she was trying to control when she flattened shaky palms against his chest.

‘I—I haven’t agreed to sail away with you, Xander,’ she said, trying to sound firm, even though her voice was husky with need.

The spike of temper—at her refusal to admit how much she wanted him—threatened his self-control, but he bit down on the urge to argue with her in the busy market square, aware of the tourists and locals milling around them.

Not the time, nor the place, to argue this point.

He released his hold on her hips, annoyed with himself now as well as her. He had planned to be subtle during their outing in Sorrento, had even arranged for his assistant to book them a suite at the Grand Hotel Excelsior Vittoria, which overlooked the bay—so he could persuade her to return to Parádeisos with him over a shared meal. And already he’d blown it.

But as soon as she had sunk her teeth into the fig, all he had been able to think about was the desire to have her again.

What was happening to him? Because she made him behave like that feral boy again, desperate to grab what he wanted and gulp it down before anyone could take it away from him…instead of the sophisticated man he had made himself become. A man who had the world at his fingertips and could indulge himself in his own time and at his own pace.

He forced himself to step back and take a breath, to calm his rampaging heartbeat and the need pounding in his pants.