Cinderella's Christmas Secret - Sharon Kendrick Page 0,11

looks in the firelight?’

‘I can’t...’ Her words sounded husky and he could see the swallowing movement of her throat. ‘I can’t imagine you doing something like that.’

‘No?’ He heard the note of repressed hope in her voice and silently, he answered it, reaching out to imprison a single lock of hair and stroking it between his thumb and forefinger, like a merchant examining a piece of valuable cloth. ‘The funny thing is neither can I. But I am. And it does. Like silk, I mean. Rich, dark golden silk.’

‘Mr Diaz.’

‘I’ve been thinking about touching you all night long,’ he husked unsteadily, skating his palm down over the abundant waves. ‘And you like it, don’t you? You like me stroking your hair.’

Her shuddered word was barely audible. ‘Y-yes.’

For a while he listened to her uneven breathing and felt his own corresponding leap of desire. ‘And you know what comes next, don’t you?’

She shook her head and gazed at him in silence.

‘Yes, you do.’

‘Tell me,’ she whispered, like a child asking to be told a story.

‘I kiss you,’ he said, a note of urgency deepening his voice to a growl.

Their eyes met. ‘Yes,’ she whispered, nodding her head with eager assent. ‘Yes, please.’

It was the most innocent yet the most provocative thing he’d ever heard.

And suddenly her hair was a rope and Maximo was using it to guide him towards her waiting lips and he felt his body tense with a sweet and tantalising hunger.

CHAPTER THREE

MAXIMO WAS KISSING HER until she had started to make mewling little sounds of hunger. Until she was moving her body restlessly against him in a gesture of unspoken need.

She should have been nervous about what was about to happen, but fear was the last thing on Hollie’s mind as the Spaniard drew away from her, his black eyes blazing with passion in the glow of the firelight.

He laced his fingers through the fall of her hair, and his breath was warm against her lips as he spoke. ‘I think it’s time we found ourselves somewhere more comfortable, don’t you?’

‘Yes, please,’ she whispered again, and then wondered if she should at least have gone through the motions of pretending to give it more than a moment’s consideration.

But that flicker of apprehension fled as soon as he picked her up and carried her upstairs, like the masterful embodiment of all her forbidden dreams. She could hear the powerful beat of her heart and the creak of the wood as he negotiated the narrow staircase.

‘Where’s your bedroom?’ he demanded, once they’d reached the top.

She supposed now wasn’t the time to tell him there was only one bedroom—instead she jerked her head in the direction of the nearest door, wishing she had tidied up a bit more. ‘In there.’

But as he kicked it open, Maximo didn’t seem to notice the cardigan lying on the chair or the pile of cookery books teetering in a haphazard pile on the bedside table. Instead, he set her down and spoke in a voice which suddenly seemed much more accented than before and more than a little unsteady.

‘You are wearing far too many clothes,’ he growled, skating his fingertips over her trembling body. ‘And part of me wishes you’d kept that crazy costume on so I could have had the pleasure of removing it. I’ve never undressed an elf before.’

Did that mean he didn’t like her woollen dress? Probably—it was undoubtedly very staid in comparison, though comparisons were never a good thing, certainly not in her case. But as he peeled it over her head before efficiently disposing of her tights, Hollie suddenly forgot about her insecurities.

‘You’re shivering,’ he observed.

‘The upstairs of this cottage is f-freezing.’

‘And is that the only reason you’re shivering?’

She liked the teasing note in his voice. Was it that which gave her the courage to hook her hand around the back of his head and brush her lips close to his?

‘No,’ she whispered. ‘Not just that, no.’

His soft laugh was tinged with faint triumph as he pulled back the duvet and pushed her down onto the mattress. ‘So why don’t you warm up the bed for me?’ he suggested as he pulled the duvet over her. ‘While I get out of these clothes.’

Hollie studied him hungrily as he peeled off his sweater, her mouth drying to dust as his fingers slipped to the button of his trousers. She was grateful that the room was in semi-darkness, which successfully hid the burn of her cheeks as, slowly, he slid the zip