She said to him, “That’s not the reputation you had at all.”
Shame misted over him. “We don’t have to talk about that. I’m different, now.”
“I wish you weren’t. Pregnancy hormones are awful, the ones that make me cry and the other ones.”
“What other pregnancy hormones? I—oh.”
She’d leaned forward. Maxence had thought she was going to press her forehead against his shoulder to cry some more or sleep or something, but her lush lips brushed his neck under his jawline.
His pulse pounded under her warm breath.
His mind—always a spinning, bright landscape of chatter calculations—focused down to a laser-tight beam, and all he could feel was her.
This moment.
This woman.
Simone was absolutely beautiful, from the tender puff of her hair to the glittering, high-heeled sandals on her feet and every soft inch of her in between.
The gentleness of her lips moved on his throat.
His breath grew restless in his lungs, and his heart sped.
The satin of her fragrant skin with a hint of rose scent on her neck and shoulder and the plush silk of her under his fingers aroused his body and darkened his mind.
His soul was dying to touch her.
He’d wanted to taste her for fifteen years.
He clamped his arms around her slim figure. The energy coursing through his veins lifted him to stand on his knees, dragging her along with him.“Simone.”
Her answering hum near his shoulder drove him mad.
He lifted her as he stood, and she scrambled backward to settle her feet on the low bed. “My shoes,” she whispered against his skin. “I’ll ruin it.”
“Leave them on,” he said.
With Simone still wearing her high heels and standing on the bed that held her a foot above the floor, she was a bit taller than Maxence. She settled her arms over his shoulders. The corners of her lips lifted in a small smile with her lips parted as she realized her altitude and that her nose was above his, and he loved that joyful smile instead of her tears. She bounced a little on the mattress and straightened her posture, obviously enjoying her temporary height.
Maxence grabbed the back of her neck and held her while he kissed her, his mouth on hers, tasting the sweetness of her and showing her that even though she currently had about two inches on him, he was still in control.
Her arms tightened around his neck and shoulders, and she slumped in his arms like her knees had gone weak.
He almost laughed as he swept her long, curvy legs in that pink-shaded skirt from under her and caught her as she fell back, and he laid her on the bed.
As he clambered over her and she reached for him, Maxence said, “Are you sure? You’re married.”
Her onyx eyes were alight with passion. She whispered, “I’m quite sure that Estebe has screwed the entire cabin crew on his ship. I’m goinghometo Mauritius, where my father is a government minister and my uncle is a judge. My divorce will be final in a week. Besides, Estebe lost his privilege to be my husband when he laid his hands on me.”
“That’s my girl.” Maxence ducked his head, nipping where her neck met her shoulder. “But are you sure you want this?”
“Yes. God, yes. Wait, do you?”
“I’ve wanted you since we were sixteen. Maybe fourteen.”
“We don’t have a condom.”
Maxence tugged his wallet from his back pocket and stood on his knees to poke inside. When he saw a metallic packet, he grinned, plucked it out, and held it up in his fingers.
