Page 20 of Falling for the King

Gentle lips brushed across hers, then pulled back.

Her groan ricocheted around the room.

He inched closer and lowered his head again. Her eyes fluttered closed, his lips brushing against hers again. It wasn’t enough, reaching up she pressed her lips to his. He shuddered and angled his head, increasing the pressure and she opened her mouth under his, his tongue touching hers and everything changed as the taste of him flowed through her.

Pulling her flush against him he was hard. Everywhere. She wriggled closer, not wanting anything to separate them.

Sweet turned hot, urgent.

Lifting her off her feet he took more, she gave more, demanded more. She didn’t want it to ever end. A moan filled her ears, from him, or her, she didn’t know or care.

Suddenly he stilled and wrenched his head away, breaking the kiss. A groan filled the room, definitely from her.

Still entwined she opened her eyes yet couldn’t focus, he was too close, in shadow. His breath ragged and heavy, matched hers. Giddy and lightheaded she was intoxicated by the kiss, nothing else existed except the two of them.

A log dropped in the grate and abruptly he lowered her to the ground, her body sliding against his. On her gasp of pleasure he released her and took a step back, then another. Grabbing the mantle to steady herself her gaze locked on his mouth as she rubbed a finger over her lips, his taste lingering there. A hint of whisky and something she’d never be able to describe, other than it was uniquely him, that she never knew she hungered for until now.

‘That was unforgiveable of me. A mistake. It won’t happen again,’ he said in a hoarse voice she didn’t recognise.

Her eyes flew to his for one shocked moment until his words hit. Her fingers gripped harder. Rejection, profound and devastating threatened to undo her until her ingrained self-protection rallied. He must never know her pain, how much his kiss meant, nor what his rejection cost. Never.

‘Say something,’ he commanded.

She wouldn’t, couldn’t without the tears that hatefully, betrayingly gathered at the back of her eyes leaking out.

Disgusted with herself for dropping her guard and even worse for truly believing he’d felt exactly what she had. Passion. Need. When would she learn? She tried to conjure up Max’s face. His taunting words. Instead, it was Xavier she could see, hear, taste, feel. And he didn’t want her. With a jerky turn she picked her way through the furniture on legs she prayed would get her back to her own room without folding and leaving her on the floor. Then her humiliation really would be complete.

Chapter 7

Xavier paced the room like a wounded caged beast filled with a potent mix of self-directed fury and frustration. Hours later he still had to beat back the urge to thunder down the corridor and chase after Katerina, crush her into his arms, and …

Beg her to forgive him?

No, a snarly voice inside his head insisted, beg her to let you finish what you started.

He stopped and in disgust threw another log onto a fire that already roared in a room that was roasting.

His jacket was long gone like his cufflinks and tie, beads of sweat gathered along his spine and forehead. He ran a hand over a jaw that sorely needed a shave and acknowledged what could no longer be ignored, the sun would soon be up, and he’d to have himself under control. For good. No memories would be permitted of what happened in here tonight. He couldn’t afford any more distractions. The beast inside struggled at that remembering striking eyes gazing at him awash with something that looked like desire. Lips puffy from his kisses and a wonderfully proportioned body had fit flush against his, which his own responded to, even now. There’d be absolutely no reason to think of her responsiveness, the throaty noises she’d made, the taste of her he’d wanted to savour like the most prized wine that lay in his cellars.

Slowly, he beat back the beast by staring into the flames and recognising what was at stake—everything he believed in, worked his whole life for. Defiance painfully ebbed away to be overcome by duty, like it always did. For one stolen moment he allowed bone deep regret to lower his head to rest on the mantlepiece.

Finally, he raised his head and drew in then out a long deep breath and strode past the uneaten food and discarded clothing into his connecting office, through his bedroom and into the bathroom. Stripping off, he turned the shower onto full cold and stepped in.

Thirty minutes later he was in the office, behind his laptop, pounding out a series of emails to his assistant. A knock sounded at the door and at his command it opened.

Katerina stepped in.

He stood.

And stared.

This, he was not expecting.

Already dressed ready for the day like he was she wore a dark fitted suit, its skirt finishing below her knees, her usual demure length teamed with dark tights and black high heels. Full make-up covered features that seemed a little pale and eyes too bright, possibly only noticeable to him. Neither was evidence that she too had endured a sleepless night which he was immensely grateful for.

After the slightest of hesitations, she walked up to the desk he now stood behind.

Rejecting his offer to sit with a shake of her head he opened his mouth but she got in first.