ONE NIGHT ONLY

Chapter 5

"No. I don’t want to have sex with you," Rosa whispered, the biggest lie she’d ever told.

Inch by slow inch, Philip pulled her pashmina until the fringes at the far end trailed across the sensitive hollow between her neck and shoulders and down into the valley between her heaving breasts.

Agonized, she waited for it to finally fall away and almost wept with disappointment when it did.

To her astonishment, Philip gathered it up with a careful touch that was almost reverent, as though he’d never held anything so precious and never would again, pressed his nose to it and inhaled deeply. She watched his eyes roll closed, and if she didn’t know better she’d think that the scent of her spicy perfume intoxicated him. Drove him wild, to the very edge of his limits.

At last his lids flicked open and he threw the worst possible accusation at her. "You’re a liar."

"I have to go."

Reaching out, he caught her before she could escape.

She tipped her face up and didn’t even think of pulling away as he settled his hands low on the curves of her hips. Her guilty conscience gave one feeble squirm—she had just been caught in an outright lie, after all—but then there was only Philip.

Splaying his fingers, he exerted enough gentle pressure to rub her against his insistent erection and her sex clenched, needing him. Once he’d settled her against him, he ran his hands up her bare back, and then down, around, until his thumbs just brushed the outer curves of her breasts on their descent to her waist.

Her hands, meanwhile, had stopped taking direction from her brain and were now resting at his nape, where the tips of her fingers could touch that soft dark hair and anchor him to her.

His lips nuzzled her temple and then found their way to her ear, where they rested just long enough to drive her insane with their humid warmth.

Rosa shuddered and gave herself up to this suspended moment in time, bewildering as it was. Nothing existed except Philip, whose huge, muscled body felt strange and yet right. Her date, what’s-his-name-the-dentist, didn’t matter. Jake was dead and her fears could be overcome as long as this man was touching her.

There was only Philip.

"Let me kiss you," he whispered in her ear. "I’ve waited so long for you… Let me kiss you…please."

The echo of her unspoken response was there, deep inside her, and she didn’t know where it came from, only that it was real: I’ve waited for you, too.

Unable to wait another second, she turned her head and surrendered.

He caught her lips beneath his, and the kiss was tender, unbearably sweet. An approving croon rumbled from the depths of his chest, heating her senses to boiling, and she opened for him, tasting a hint of tart champagne and something darker and more thrilling, something only Philip.

Yes.

He’d just tunneled his fingers into her hair and angled her head the way he wanted it, deepening the kiss, thrusting and retreating with his tongue, driving her wilder and higher until she was almost obliterated by the driving need to spread her thighs and take him as far inside her body as he could possibly go, when the door to the ballroom banged open behind them.

"Rosa?"

They sprang apart at Greg’s plaintive voice, and Rosa’s hot cheeks glowed with mortification until it felt as if they would light up the starry sky.

Flustered, she tried to think. Not about Philip—oh, God, Philip—but about the look of dawning hurt and humiliation on Greg’s face.

"I’m so sorry, Greg." The apology seemed incredibly inadequate but she owed it to the poor man. "It’s not what it looks—"

"Yes, it is." Philip divided his implacable gaze between her and Greg. "It’s exactly what it looks like."

"What the hell—?" Anger had begun to color Greg’s face, but Philip interrupted him.

"I’m…sorry," he told Greg, his jaw tight. "You seem like a decent guy, but you should know—I’m wild about Rosa, and if I have my way, you won’t be seeing her again after tonight."

This declaration was so unexpected and outrageous that Rosa and Greg could only stammer with surprise. Philip, naturally, took advantage of the silence. Making sure he had Rosa’s attention, he raised the pashmina to his lips and kissed it.

Deep in Rosa’s belly, she felt a renewed surge of desire and wanted that horrible man in all his glorious arrogance. His parting words only intensified the want until she had to clench her hands to keep from reaching for him.

"I’m coming for you, Rosa," Philip said over his shoulder as he left with her wrap. "I’ll see you tomorrow."

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