A Champagne Christmas. Кэрол Мортимер

himself inside her.

      For an instant the pain was wrenching, but pleasure immediately rode behind it, making her shudder in rhythmic contractions around him. As he thrust inside her, she heard his low gasp. With agonizing slowness, he pulled back, then thrust again. She whimpered as increasing pleasure built inside her. Then her hips rose to meet his as he rode her.

      He filled her completely. Slowly, steadily, deeper and deeper until he seemed to reach her very heart. The intensity was too much, pleasure so great it was almost pain.

      She looked up and saw his hard masculine body over hers, his chest laced with dark hair and his muscles glistening with sweat in the firelight as he thrust inside her. His eyes were closed. She saw the agony on his face as he held himself back, forcing himself to move slowly. His handsome face was taut as he gasped with every slow, deep thrust, filling her to the hilt.

      Maksim.

      Her prince.

      Her lover.

      Her…love?

      As if he’d heard her thought, he opened his eyes. Their gazes locked, their souls linked. And as he pushed inside her one last time, her world shattered into a million pieces. She shuddered and shook with him so deeply inside her, deeper, deeper, until she felt like she was being ripped in two by his brutally hard body. Her body arched with electricity as she exploded and gasped out his name.

CHAPTER EIGHT

      MAKSIM’S intention in bringing her here had been to seduce her. He’d intended to coldheartedly win her loyalty to get information he could use against Barrington. But his conscience had interfered again. He’d tried to resist. To let her go. To push her away.

      Until she’d taken him in her soft arms and asked him to kiss her.

      In that single instant he’d tossed aside his plans to get information from her. He’d given up his revenge on Barrington. He’d even given up the merger for the sake of possessing her.

      He’d given it all up so he could possess her without guilt and be even half the man she believed him to be.

      It had taken all his self-control to go slowly. He was determined to make it good for her. But when their eyes met as he slid deeply inside her, when he saw her beautiful face as their bodies joined, he could barely hold himself back from exploding.

      He felt her arch and heard her gasp his name; and then he utterly lost control.

      Thrusting one last time, he spilled into her with a hoarse, harsh cry that blended with hers. He closed his eyes as his body was racked with waves of pleasure almost too intense to bear.

      He collapsed against her. He must have blacked out for a millisecond before he realized he was crushing her with his weight. And he never wanted to hurt her, never, this fragile innocent beauty who’d given him her virginity….

      He rolled to one side of her, cradling her softly in his arms, kissing her forehead. She took several deep breaths before she opened her eyes and looked at him. But she did not speak. What had happened between them was too deep for words.

      Candlelight and firelight flickered on the lush curves of her naked body. Grace was everything he’d imagined. Just what he’d fantasized about. But she had more than just an innocent beauty—she had an innocent soul.

      He was her first.

      Maksim gloried in the thought. It filled him with pride and wonder. No other man had ever touched her. No other man had ever thrust inside her—

      Then he suddenly stopped breathing.

      Distracted by the conflict between his conscience and his overwhelming need for her, he’d forgotten to use a condom. The first and only time he’d ever forgotten.

      Turning from her on the blanket, he stared blankly at the high ceiling. Barely visible cherubs smiled down at him from the shadowed depths.

      What if there were a child?

      “Maksim.” Grace rolled her naked body over his. He felt the soft press of her breasts into his chest as she looked down at him with concern. “Did I do something wrong?”

      “No.” Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her on the temple. “Don’t think that, solnishka mayo. Never think that.”

      She ducked her head, placing her cheek against his heart. “Do you feel like you’ve betrayed Francesca?”

      Francesca? He was trying not to think about her—something astonishingly easy to do, considering she’d been his mistress for a full year. He set his jaw. “Why ask me about her? Do you feel you’ve betrayed Barrington?”

      She shook her head. “I never loved him. That was infatuation, nothing more.”

      For reasons he couldn’t explain, those words seeped into him, relaxing him like a warm embrace. He stroked her naked back lazily, appreciating the curve of her body and sweet, smooth skin. “I’m glad to hear that. So there’s nothing to stop you from coming to work for me.”

      “But I thought you said I shouldn’t endure sexual harassment from my boss?” she teased.

      “You’ll enjoy it from me,” he growled.

      “A lovely offer.” She sighed, then slowly shook her head. “But I can’t desert Alan. I feel sorry for him.”

      “Why? He’s gotten the deal—and the bride.”

      “But he just found out she never intended to actually marry him. They haven’t even slept together. She’s just trying to make some other man jealous.” She took a deep breath, then lifted her eyes to his. “I think it must be you.”

      His hand stroking her back stilled.

      “It’s not a real engagement?”

      “The merger is real. Her father doesn’t know. But the engagement will end.” She licked her lips. “And you can have Francesca back, if you want her.”

      For a moment Maksim couldn’t even breathe.

      He couldn’t believe it.

      What a joke of fate. The moment he’d decided to surrender to his conscience, the moment he’d decided he wouldn’t try to force information out of Grace—she’d tossed the key to destroying Alan Barrington right into his lap.

      With this one bit of information, he could destroy the merger.

      Part of him had suspected this all along. Francesca had been so furious when Maksim hadn’t caved to her ultimatum in October. After a tempestuous year together, a year of screaming breakups and passionate makeups, she’d demanded that he marry her. “Or else,” she’d threatened ominously, “you’ll lose me.” But Maksim never responded very well to threats or ultimatums. In reply he’d kissed her until she sagged in his arms, then he’d whispered, “In that case, I must lose you.”

      Typical of Francesca to orchestrate her battle by going straight to his enemy. Managing to string Barrington along without even giving him her body—Maksim was impressed. But the fact that she’d never intended to actually go through with her threat to marry him revealed her weakness.

      All Maksim had to do was tell the Earl of Hainesworth the truth, and the merger would be his. Along with Francesca, if he wanted her….

      “Do you love her, Maksim?” he heard Grace whisper. “Do you?”

      He abruptly focused on the sweet, beautiful girl in his arms.

      Grace was so different from his former mistress in every way. She was curvaceous, with full cheeks the color of roses, skin that glowed with health, and natural blond hair that looked like blended gold and silver in the candlelight.

      Francesca was tiny and thin in ultrachic designer clothes, with fiery red hair that came compliments of