Claimed: The Pregnant Heiress. Day Leclaire

bloomed in her too-pale cheeks while indignation animated her face. “Have you lost your mind?”

      He snagged the ends of his bow tie and yanked. “Not that I’m aware of.” His shirt studs and cuff links followed and he dropped them carelessly onto the bedside table, followed by his BlackBerry. “I’ve wanted you back in my bed from the moment you left it.”

      She sat up. The light filtering from the hallway cut across the upper portion of her face, highlighting the incredible power of her eyes. The odd forget-me-not blue, a shade just shy of lavender, had haunted him for two endless months. Well, not any longer. Whatever it took, he’d find a way get her out of his system so he could continue his life without the memory of their time together distracting him.

      “You can’t believe I’m going to simply fall in bed with you.”

      “That’s precisely what you did last time and what you’re going to do right now.” He stripped off his cummerbund and shirt, followed by his shoes. His hand dropped to the fastening of his trousers. “You feel it, Emma. Don’t pretend you don’t. It’s gotten so strong that it hurts to breathe. I can’t think about anything but you, about having you under me, being inside of you.”

      Her breath quickened and those eyes, those amazing eyes, darkened with raw passion. “I’m not some cheap one-night stand, damn it. I won’t sleep with you tonight and have you walk away tomorrow.”

      Humor had his mouth curling upward. “I believe you were the one to walk away last time. And considering you don’t have a car, I’m hoping you’ll still be here when I wake up.”

      She waved that aside. “This is a mistake. You’re part of Rafe Cameron’s entourage.” She inched toward the edge of the mattress. “I can’t be seen fraternizing with the enemy.”

      That stopped him. Granted, there was no love lost between Rafe and Ronald Worth. But why would Emma consider Rafe the enemy? “Do you oppose the sale?” he asked softly. “Are you trying to stop it from happening?”

      She led with her chin. “I’m not convinced your brother is the best person to run Worth Industries. There are too many questions about his future intentions that are still outstanding. But since it’s not my decision, there’s not much I can do about it, is there?”

      “No, there isn’t,” he stated. Okay, warned her.

      “But that doesn’t mean I want to sleep with you. Not now that I know you’re Rafe’s brother.”

      “One has nothing to do with the other.”

      Her eyes narrowed in clear assessment. “How can I be certain you’re not seducing me so I won’t cause trouble?”

      “First, because there’s nothing you can do to stop the sale of Worth Industries to Rafe. It’s as good as done. Second, when we made love that night in New York you were unaware of my connection to Rafe Cameron the same as I was unaware of your connection to Worth Industries.” The sound of his pants zipper being lowered grated against the stillness in the room. “And finally, you know damn well that what we’re experiencing tonight is identical to what happened two months ago.”

      “Except it isn’t.”

      The instant she said the words her breath hitched and he knew she’d give anything to snatch them back. “No, it isn’t,” he agreed. He stripped off the last of his clothing and approached the bed. “This time it’s far more intense.”

      She stared at him, riveted. He waited to see whether she’d attempt to evade him, but to his surprise she didn’t. One minute she sat on the edge of the bed and the next she came into his arms. The silk of her dress flowed across his flesh like a teasing caress, while the curves that lay beneath it impacted against him, warm and delicate and deliciously feminine.

      “This is a mistake,” she informed him.

      He could barely contain his groan. “How can it be when we feel like this whenever we touch?”

      He scorched a pathway of fire along her bared shoulder to her neck. Cupping the back of her head, he drew her up for a kiss. A low, delicious moan escaped her and her lips parted, surrendering beneath his. She tasted amazing. How had he survived two whole months without tasting her again? Without having her in his arms. And soon—very, very soon—he’d have her beneath him, be inside of her again. One way or another, before he left Vista del Mar, he’d quench the insatiable thirst she roused in him.

      He pulled back and smiled down at her. “You’re overdressed, sweetheart.”

      “Oh, I don’t know.” She offered a swift, gamine-like grin. “I rather like having you naked and at my mercy.”

      “And what do you plan to do with me?”

      “This …”

      Her hands slid downward, over steely abs, and lower still. She cupped him, her hands unbelievably soft, shaping the length and breadth of him with gentle strokes. He almost lost it. But when he attempted to pull away, she shook her head in mock disapproval.

      “Ah, ah, ah. You’re at my mercy, remember?”

      Hell. “Is there any point in begging you to be gentle with me?”

      “None.” A sultry smile drifted across her mouth and deepened the color of her eyes. “Since you’re one of those types who likes to be in charge all the time, you have to play this my way or we don’t play at all.”

      “I’m not sure I like those rules,” he complained.

      Just when he thought he couldn’t control himself a moment longer, she slid her hands upward and wrapped them around his neck. “But you’ll play by them, won’t you?”

      He shot her a look filled with a combination of threat and warning. “For now.”

      She tilted her head to one side in assessment. “Something tells me you’re a dangerous man to cross,” she said slowly.

      “That something is called sheer self-preservation. I’d listen to your instincts.”

      She simply laughed. “You wouldn’t hurt me.”

      “How can you possibly know that? We’ve only been together for a handful of hours.”

      Her laughter faded beneath the challenge of his statement and she studied him, pinned him in place with a penetrating stare. In that moment, he could see the father reflected in the daughter, the same fierce determination. “Is that the sort of man you are? Do you deliberately try and hurt people?”

      “No. Not even a little. Will I hurt you? I hope like hell I won’t. It depends on where this takes us and what we decide to do about it if we continue down this road.”

      A shadow flickered across her face. “I don’t want to worry about what happens next. If we’re going to do this, I can only handle tonight.”

      “Then let’s make tonight count,” he suggested, allowing her a glimpse of the intensity of his passion.

      She teetered, but she’d already made her decision, had made it shortly after he’d dumped her on to the bed. Whatever they’d ignited in his penthouse apartment in New York had continued to burn, the embers buried but still white-hot and ready to burst into flames with a simple touch.

      “Please make love to me,” she whispered into the darkness.

      “My pleasure.”

      She pulled him in for another kiss, this one slow and languid, expressing a longing that matched his own. “Undress me,” came the hungry command.

      “I was hoping you’d say that.”

      He found the zip beneath her arm and lowered it. The bodice loosened, parted, allowing him access to the soft roundness of her breast. He shaped it in his hand and felt the nipple tighten and swell. She was so elegantly made, delicate and fine-boned. And yet there was a supple strength beneath her softness that spoke of someone