The Only Woman to Defy Him by Carol Marinelli Page A

beautiful eyes now in a way she hadn’t been able to yesterday as his hand brushed hers and then took hold. His breath was on her cheek as energy thrummed in the lessening space between them. ‘I’m not calm either,’ Demyan said, and his hand toyed with hers a little and she almost wanted him to move her palm, her fingers digging into his as she resisted an urge, an urge that had never, till now, existed.
    She wanted to feel him, wanted his hand to guide hers to his groin, and Alina had never known such a feeling.
    She was breathing too fast yet it felt not enough.
    ‘Your name means bright and beautiful.’ Demyan saw her confused blink and he was just a touch surprised too at his own admission that he had looked her name up.
    ‘It means light,’ Alina said.
    ‘Not where I come from.’
    He watched her free hand move and her nails run across her mouth, as they had yesterday.
    And he smiled as he had before, for they had wanted each other even then.
    ‘If your lips itch, it means you will be kissed soon.’
    ‘It doesn’t.’
    ‘Where I come from it does.’
    ‘They don’t itch.’
    ‘Are you a compulsive liar, Alina?’
    ‘They don’t itch.’
    They didn’t any more—they burnt. She could feel the heat from his skin on her cheek, she could actually feel his words coming from the mouth she was now impatient to meet. She moaned in relief as his mouth ceased taunting and it was sublime. A few fumbled kisses and gropes was the sum of Alina’s experience. This, though, was far from fumbled, his directness was heaven. His lips were soft and warm as they pulsed on hers then there was the delicious first brush of his tongue—warmer than summer; she shivered like winter and Alina never wanted it to end.
    Demyan had been waiting long and hard for this but her kiss was as unexpected as his attraction to her.
    God, it was nice, he thought, sinking in.
    Wet but nice.
    He tried to slow her tongue down with his, yet she didn’t read his dance. He could feel the utter inexperience in every clumsy stroke, yet it was so curiously nice.
    So nice that his hand was stroking her thick nipple and wanting more of the same, even as his mind registered that there would be no spanky-spanky.
    What the hell was he doing, necking in the street with a virgin?
    Please, no!
    He didn’t have the time, or inclination, to take his time.
    But, yes, she was a virgin, he was sure of it as his tongue firmly held hers still.
    She felt the pin of muscle in her mouth and her tongue desisted then more slowly curled back to life against his.
    She was so willing and pleasing, an A-plus student, in fact, for her kiss was one a usually bored by now Demyan wanted. His fingers were in her T-shirt and as he peeled back her bra and his thumb grazed her nipple again he felt the moan in her throat. It was pleasing to feel her purr into sexual life, so completely rewarding that he wanted to play a little bit more, yet Demyan resisted.
    He liked her.
    Maybe more than he cared to admit, but while he wanted to linger and continue this delicious perusal, while he wanted that mouth trained by his, he attempted to slow things down. Yet she was harder to get off than red wine on a white rug. His mouth kept going back to hers, swirling in ever-decreasing circles, wondering if he might just give her one come, wondering if he might...wondering what the hell...
    ‘Come on,’ Demyan said, peeling his mouth back, holding her hips. ‘My driver will take you home.’
    He saw the flare of disappointment in her eyes as he retracted the hotel offer.
    Her body was warm and he stared at her all flushed and aroused and he was tempted to put scruples on ice as, bold now, she made her move.
    ‘We could go back to the hotel.’ Oh, my God, Alina couldn’t believe she’d just said it, but she had, she had and she meant every word.
    ‘Alina,’ Demyan cut in—he could be very blunt when he needed to be. ‘I’m not going to be here for long.’
    ‘I know that.’
    ‘I