‘I couldn’t concentrate...because you were on my mind?’
‘Is that a question? Either I was or I wasn’t.’
She was aware she was skirting that edge of danger she’d craved mere minutes ago. Her blood thrummed wildly in her ears. ‘You were. Very much.’
He roughly shoved the case aside and pulled her fully into his body.
His fingers speared into her hair, his grip firm as he leaned down and stared, narrow-eyed, at her.
‘You know why I’m angry.’
‘The deal. Your brother. Yes.’
His nostrils flared. ‘I’m not sad.’
‘Maybe not right this minute.’
He made a rough sound of disagreement. ‘I’m not lonely,’ he rasped.
Her heart lurched, because the evidence to the contrary was right there in his voice. ‘Okay.’
‘My invincibility would be debated by some.’
‘But only if they’re blind?’
He shrugged. His head dropped another fraction. ‘This picture... You see too much, Elise. I don’t like it.’
‘You see me, too, when you want to, but you don’t see me throwing a tantrum about it.’
His eyes darkened. The fingers in her hair shifted, caressed. ‘Madre de Dios.’
Desire dripped into her veins, commencing a slow languor that held her captive and yearning.
She needed to pull back, retreat to her side of the bed. Or better still, out of the room completely. ‘Alejandro...’
‘Shut up. I’ve had quite enough words from you for now.’
His mouth slanted over hers, mastered her, showed her the depth of feeling moving through him. She didn’t need words to know her drawing had affected him. The way he kissed, with hunger and a little anger, need and a touch of gentleness, told its own story.
Drugging enough to make her momentarily excuse herself from what shouldn’t be happening; she explored him with the same hunger. Beneath her fingers, his warm muscles shifted, the hair at his nape curled into her touch, his whole body shuddering when her nails dug in.
He lifted his head for a moment and she glimpsed the powerful hunger stamped on his face. It was enough to remind her that she was playing with fire. That she was stoking an inferno she might not be able to survive if it flamed much higher.
Before she could attempt to push him away, he was kissing her again, bearing her back so she was flat on the bed.
One hand traced her jaw, then stroked down to linger at the pulse beating at her throat. When he was satisfied she was sufficiently fired up, he trailed lower, and cupped one breast.
Elise moaned at the expert kneading, the clever teasing of her nipple. Liquid sensation sparked through her, singeing her between the legs until she was twisting beneath him. He uttered something guttural in Spanish, intensely erotic.
The plane lurched, separating them for a second.
They stared at each other. Awareness slowly crawled back. They’d been here before.
And yet here she was, thousands of feet in the air, on the edge of being initiated into an exclusive club with a man who would sign her paycheque when her business with him was over and walk away without a backward glance.
He started to lower his head.