Modern Romance January Books 1-4. Кейт Хьюит

want to,” she said. She swallowed hard, that fine throat working as she did. “I want for you to make love to me. I want you to take my virginity.” And then she did something he did not expect. She curved her fingers around the back of his head, holding him tight as he was holding her. “I want you inside me.” And then she kissed him, with all the boldness of a harlot, licked his lips with the seductive attention of a Siren. Then when she drew back, she blushed like an innocent.

      And he was lost.

      “Very well,” he rasped, his voice a stranger’s. “I will give you what you desire. But we will finish tonight. We will finish this together, and when we leave, we will leave it behind.”

      “What do you mean?”

      “Here,” he said, looking around the room, “we are an engaged couple. Here, we are engaging in a performance. Once we are in my bedroom, it will simply be Camilla and Matías. There will be nothing outside of that. It will not be a business transaction. Do you understand?”

      “Yes,” she whispered.

      “No,” he said, “I don’t think you do. I do not require you to be this glittering creature. I require nothing of you beyond yourself. That is who I want in my bed tonight.”

      She ducked her head. “I’m not sure that you’ve met her before.”

      “Then I feel, mi amor, this would be an excellent time for you to introduce me.”

      It was those words that stuck with her. Those words that propelled her through the evening. That empowered her as she danced with him, each song powerful and deep, like something more intimate than it was, because of the shared knowledge of what was going to take place later.

      He wanted her. He had said so. Her as she was, not her as this elegant creature that had been fashioned by a team of people. Not her, the one who had come to him in disguise.

      The her that perhaps not even she knew. That she had shown to no one.

      And it terrified her. Because she was suddenly so certain that in many ways she had spent all of her life burying some desires of hers down deep.

      Her father had given her a great many things. He had given her the freedom to do as she pleased as long as she stayed within the boundaries of the rancho. He had given her a kind of freedom from her mother’s expectations by allowing her to be the opposite.

      But there had been no place for her to explore that other part of herself. The part that was very much a woman and wanted to be with a man. The part that wanted to be beautiful. To feel lovely.

      They managed to make it through the entire evening, and she marveled at the way that Matías dealt with the people around him. He was a chameleon. Able to be charming and firm in the same conversation. To speak hard truths, and then smooth them over with a smile.

      He was not a man that anyone wanted to defy, and she had a feeling that it had nothing to do with his family name or their formidable reputation, but everything to do with the magnetism of the man himself.

      He was unlike anyone she had ever known. And she had a feeling that would always be the case.

      Had a feeling that after this was over she would remember him forever. She would carry a small piece of him with her.

      It felt...romantic in many ways. At least the right kind of romance for a woman like her. A woman who wanted nothing more than her freedom. Who wanted nothing more than to feel desired when she wished to, and to have total agency in her life at other moments.

      When he swept her out of the ballroom, and back into the limo, she was afraid she might have left her stomach behind. Her anticipation had been growing stronger with each passing moment, but now that it was time, she found herself getting nervous. Found herself feeling that confidence slipping away again.

      The limo pulled up outside the penthouse, and she looked up, her heart pounding hard at the base of her throat. “I didn’t bring anything with me,” she said.

      “I’ve taken care of everything,” he said.

      “Have you?” she asked.

      “Yes. You do not have to fear anything. Just follow my lead.”

      “Will there be music?” she asked.

      “You will not be following a song,” he said, brushing his fingertips to her lips. “You will be following me.”

      It was such a strange assurance, quietly spoken, and should be dissonant from the mouth of a man who was just so very masculine and dangerous as Matías was, and yet she believed him.

      That while she was with him, while she was his, he would care for her.

      No one had ever assured her of such a thing before. She hadn’t realized she had wanted it until now.

      “Even a toothbrush?” she asked, not wanting to reveal the vulnerability that she felt.

      “Oh, yes,” he said, “everything has been provided for you.”

      “And a nightgown?”

      He chuckled, then grabbed hold of her chin, holding her face steady. “You won’t be needing one.”

      Then she found herself being swept out of the limo and into the antechamber of the lovely, antiquated apartment building. They swept through the lobby and down to an elevator at the very end of the marble-carved room.

      He pulled out a key card and swiped it, then they stepped inside. “This only goes to my floor,” he said.

      “You have your own floor?”

      He shrugged. “I’m a man with specific needs. Privacy is one of them.”

      “I see,” she said, suddenly feeling a lead weight in her stomach. “For when you bring women here,” she said.

      “I never claimed to be a saint, Camilla,” he said, leaning against the door of the elevator, those deft fingers working the knot on his bow tie, letting it fall loose. “I have had lovers. Many of them. Not when I was engaged to Liliana. And not since meeting you. But yes. It suits me to have luxury accommodation in various places in the world for that reason.”

      “Just very strange. To think about, I mean. I’ve never touched another man. And you’ve touched...”

      “Trust me,” he said, a smile tipping the corner of his lips. “You will benefit from my experience.”

      “I’m sure I will,” she said.

      But that didn’t mean jealousy didn’t burn hot and fierce in her stomach, like a particularly vicious acid.

      She had never kissed another man. Never wanted another man. But this man wanted easily. He wanted for no other reason than a face was beautiful, or a body pleasingly shaped.

      It wasn’t a flaw, she supposed, but it was certainly something.

      The elevator doors swept open when it reached the top floor, and he pushed away from the door, leading her out into an apartment that was shockingly modern against the ornate backdrop of the lift.

      “This is what you were talking about,” she said, thinking of what he had said about the decor at the rancho.

      “Yes,” he said. “Most of my properties look more like this.” He indicated the stark black-and-white design, the touches of chrome and other sorts of things that screamed masculinity in a very basic way.

      She squinted. “You didn’t do the decor,” she commented.

      “No,” he said. He began to undo the cuffs on his shirt. “How did you know?” He slipped his jacket off and let it slide down onto the sleek leather couch that was positioned at the center of the room. Then he began to work the buttons on his white shirt.

      “It doesn’t look particularly like you. It just looks like someone was told to design a room for a man. Any man.