Alex's Angel by Natasha Blackthorne Page A

that he almost groaned. He’d been watching her do this for some time and his cock was as hard as iron.
    It wasn’t just her obvious sensual enjoyment that commanded his attention. It was the way the fine cords in her neck stretched and the way the candlelight played on her fragile-looking collarbones. The feminine perfection of her hands and her delicately etched cheekbones.
    She was so like a diminutive china doll.
    And that full, wine-stained mouth invited the most indecent fantasies. He’d like to kiss her and taste the combination of rich claret and the lingering saltiness of his own seed on her tongue.
    But it was her nose that fascinated him the most. The juxtaposition of that one strong feature alongside her utter femininity proved inexplicably yet irresistibly alluring.
    Her eyes opened over the brim of her glass and a vertical line marred her forehead as her dark red brows drew together. She firmly set the glass down, eyeing him warily, as if his attention were making her uneasy.
    “I think I’ve had more than enough wine. I’d prefer a coffee, if you don’t mind, Alex. Make it black.”
    God, she was so unpredictable. And adorable.
    “But ladies don’t drink black coffee—don’t you know that?”
    She rolled her elegant little shoulders. “Then I suppose I’m not a lady. I don’t care, I want coffee.”
      “I’ll request tea, with cream and honey. All my ladies drink tea with cream and honey.”
    “But I’m not one of your ladies,” she replied briskly.
    He enjoyed provoking those sparks in her sherry-brown eyes. He laughed quietly. “When you sit here at my table, enjoying my largesse, you certainly are one of my ladies.”
    When his remark drew the desired response, he knew one thing as sure as his next breath—he wouldn’t have a moment’s peace until he’d had her. Having caught a glimpse of her beguiling sensuality, he wanted to drown himself in it. God, he just might pay a fortune to possess her.
    He shifted in the seat, trying to ease his swelling erection, and mentally reviewed the previous hour. Though she’d eaten with pretty manners, it had been painfully obvious she’d wanted to gulp down the elegant fare. He winced in painful recollection of similar keen cravings. As she prattled on merrily about her extended family of oddball aunts and reprobate uncles, he was ninety-nine per cent certain it was a pure fiction. The strange thing was that it didn’t matter. Her quick, imaginative mind entertained him, making his mood far lighter than it had been in a painfully long time.
    And it made him wonder to what better uses that imagination could be turned under his guidance.
    “I’m ready to leave,” he said firmly.
    She glanced up at him, her gorgeous mouth parted in a way that made his cock ache. He suppressed a groan.
    “Now?” she asked.
    “If you want coffee, I’ll make some in my rooms. I have some very fine coffee and since you do not require cream—”
    “Your rooms?” She looked at him as if he’d suddenly begun speaking in a foreign language.
    “I keep a suite of rooms at a boarding house. I cannot be bringing girls to my house—my aunt and unmarried cousin live there.”
    Her eyes grew huge and she paled several shades. “You want to take me to your…p-private rooms?”
    Her voice quavered as if she were some sheltered society miss.
    Irritation pricked him. Of course she would pretend to be difficult at this point. He hated false coyness. He took her hand.
    “Don’t worry, I shall be quite generous.”
    “H-how generous?”
    Inwardly, he sighed. She certainly lacked finesse.
    “I prefer not to talk business in the heat of the night, but if you must know, I shall give you a hundred dollars for tonight.”
    “A hundred dollars?”
    “Yes.” It was an extravagant amount but he liked to spoil his women. He liked seeing their shocked delight. He adored accepting their equally extravagant gratitude.  
    Her gaze fell to her empty plate.
    Well, he’d