Duarte's Child. Lynne Graham

heat burning between her slim thighs.

      â€˜Can’t you?’ he murmured huskily.

      The very sound of that silken dark drawl sent a responsive shiver down her spine. She snatched in a stark audible breath to flood her depleted lungs. She was tormentingly aware of the stirring heaviness of her small breasts and the painful sensitivity of her swollen nipples pushing against the bra she wore beneath her top.

      â€˜Aside from my wealth, I had nothing to offer you but you appeared to want very little.’ Duarte studied her with spectacular dark golden eyes that had the most scorching effect on her already heated flesh. ‘Apart from me…and you wanted me like you wanted air to breathe. At the time it seemed a fair exchange.’