Millionaire Under The Mistletoe

Which made her feel even worse about not telling him about Adrian. He’d done so much to help her family, and all they’d been was Trouble with a capital T.

“You’re not going to stop me this time, are you?”

Was she so obvious? Tongue-tied, she shook her head.

“Good,” he purred.

His lips were firm on hers. He pulled her up against him and she became aware of the power of his body under the cotton shirt. His arms were strong around her.

He was all man.

She parted her lips and he devoured her. All hungry male. He gave a groan that turned her weak. She wanted him.

“That’s how to taste dark chocolate.” He brushed a kiss over her lips. “But if we continue this, someone might walk in on us.” His laugh was breathless. “My brothers only went to feed the horses. One of them could return any second.”

She ran her fingertips over his jaw, pausing to rest them against the soft pad of his lower lip. His eyes ignited with passion and he sucked a finger into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it.

Her breathing quickened.

Removing her hand, he took her mouth, plundering it, filling every crevice with his tongue. He tasted of port, chocolate and aroused male, and when he’d finished, he lifted his head and she gazed into eyes heavy with desire.

“I don’t want to wait anymore.” His voice was hoarse. “Come up to my room with me.”

Unable to speak, she nodded.

Callum shoved his bedroom door shut with his foot, and-holding Miranda’s gaze-locked the door.

Her pupils darkened, consuming the caramel gold of her irises, and causing his body to shudder and harden in anticipation.

He shrugged his tie off, crossed the room, and dropped the tie across the railing of his huge four-poster bed.

Miranda followed more slowly.

He waited for her, unbuttoning his shirt. She stopped at the bottom of the bed, her eyes huge.

The edges of his shirt fell open. He reached for her and brought her close. Letting his fingers caress her nape, he speared them into the silken mass of hair and tilted her head back. Scanning her features, he saw no sign of resistance.

He had her. Alone. At last.

With a sigh of relief he unbuttoned the double row of buttons and pushed the chef’s jacket from her shoulders. His shirt, trousers, underpants and her sinful dress all followed, then he tumbled back onto the bed, taking her with him. She landed sprawled, all soft skin and tousled curls against his nakedness.

A moan of satisfaction shook him. “Kiss me, Miranda.”

She obliged, and her hair caressed him, tresses scented with the vanilla that teased his dreams. He played his hands over her shoulders, along her back, and his fingers encountered her bra strap. He undid the clasp. She lifted her torso, and as the halter-neck bra fell away she wriggled free.

Callum gasped.

Her breasts hung above him. Full, ripe curves that tempted him to touch…to taste.

He reached out reverently and caressed the berry nubs with gentle fingers. She arched sharply, and a keening sound broke from her throat. Seeking to taste her, he closed his mouth around the dark tip and sucked it. It hardened further, and he knew she was as desperate for him as he for her.

Keeping his mouth on her breast, he slid a hand down over the swell of her stomach and dipped between her legs-and found her moist and ready.

Before he could take the next step, her legs wrapped around his hips and she pushed herself upright, breaking the contact of his mouth on her.

Miranda rubbed herself along the rigid length of his erection. Callum nearly came apart. Only a brief bit of satin separated them from the final sweet connection they both sought. Impatiently he pushed the thin thong of her panties aside and, the delicate barrier gone, she sank down on him.

Pure ecstasy.

He growled in delight. Miranda moved above him and heat consumed him in a bright white flash. Clasping his hands over her hips, he fought to control the pace. But when she bent forward and outlined his mouth with her tongue, laving his lips, Callum moaned, his resolve crumbling. Then she sealed the caress with a kiss. And all the while he drove fiercely, desperately upward into her.

Callum shuddered, his body full of tension. She fell forward, boneless, breathless, on top of his chest, her hair silky against his cheeks, her fragrance embracing him.

And the heat exploded around them, tumbling them into the hot vortex of desire.

Eleven

Callum woke to a sense of supreme satisfaction.

Miranda lay curled up beside him under the covers, one hand resting on his bare chest, spreading warmth through him. It felt so right. Her hand belonged there, against his skin. Over his heart. He wanted to wake every morning to her touch, to the softness of her body tucked against his, her golden hair tousled around her face.

She was his.

The strength of emotion that surged through him awed him. Reaching out, he brushed a silky curl away from her cheek. She stirred.

Her eyes opened, and in the pale morning light that spilled through his bedroom window Callum saw something warm and wonderful in their golden-brown depths. Then alarm took over, chasing the glow out and filling her eyes with shadows.

She was about to withdraw from him. He couldn’t-wouldn’t-allow that to happen. Not after last night.

“Don’t move,” he demanded.

She blinked up at him. “Why?”

“Because I want to look at you.”

Miranda gave a breathy laugh and shifted away, leaving a cold space in the bed beside him.

“You’re making me feel uncomfortable.”

“Don’t feel uncomfortable.” He rolled closer and cupped his hand under her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You better get used to it. I’ll never tire of looking at you.”

Something flickered in the caramel eyes that melted his heart. “Oh, yes, you will.”

He shook his head. “No, I won’t.” Not ever. But he wasn’t ready to confess that yet. Instead he let his fingertips caress the soft skin of her cheek. “What we had last night…I want more.”

Yet he couldn’t put the unfamiliar emotions and desires that churned inside him into words. All he knew was that he wanted to savor this…thing…that bound them together. Driven by an impulse, he leaned forward and pressed his lips fiercely against hers, determined to make her acknowledge the power of his need.

Last night’s wild heat returned in a rush. Swirling through him, racing through his bloodstream, quickening the passion that had ignited at the first touch of his lips to hers. Her lips parted, his tongue plundered the warm depths of her mouth.

And words became unnecessary.

It was the sound of the dogs barking, a shout from Hunter and the lilt of feminine laughter outside that brought Callum abruptly back to his senses. He stared down at the woman who had made him forget everything. His family. His work. He caught sight of the clock on the bed stand. Even the time.

He gave a husky laugh. “My God, I was ready to take you again.”

She was breathing quickly, and her eyes had gone dark with desire. The covers had shifted, revealing a pale, creamy shoulder and the slope of one breast. Want surged through him, and he hauled in a ragged breath.

“We better get up.” With heavy reluctance he sat up and shrugged the bedclothes off. “Breakfast will be