Читать книгу: «Mediterranean Tycoons: Dark & Demanding», страница 3

‘No,’ Nick said shortly.

Then she noticed a man get out of the car and grin at them both as he opened the rear door of the car. Liza shot Nick a startled glance. ‘A chauffeur.’

‘Yes. Tonight I want to relax and enjoy my dinner with a beautiful woman and share a few glasses of champagne in comfort.’ No need to mention he had already downed two very large whiskies because of the dilemma she had created in his usually very well-ordered life. ‘And don’t worry, I think you will love the meal. Greta is the best cook on the island.’ He smiled and lifted a hand casually to flick a strand of her hair over her shoulder and his darkening gaze trapped hers.

She swallowed hard and had trouble speaking. ‘I’m sure you are right,’ she managed, tearing her gaze away from his and stepping towards the car.

Liza slid quickly into the car with more haste than elegance, sinking into a seat that was a lot more comfortable than Nick’s Jeep. But when Nick moved in beside her she realised it was also a lot more intimate as a hard masculine thigh pressed against her own, and a long arm was casually flung around her shoulders yet again.

‘Nice car,’ she mumbled, intensely aware of his leashed strength, the subtle male scent of the man, and wondered for the umpteenth time what she was doing, playing with fire. But she had been doing that all day both physically and metaphorically, she realised with a wry smile.

The villa turned out to be a magnificent building that oozed wealth and elegance. Nick introduced her to a middle-aged couple waiting in the entrance foyer, Greta and Paul. And beyond them she could see a glass wall that opened on to a floodlit swimming pool, she glimpsed tables and chairs and wondered if they were to eat outside. It wasn’t that warm.

She lifted her puzzled gaze to Nick. ‘Are we eating outside?’

‘Dios! No.’ His ebony brows arched in surprise. ‘What you English think is warm we consider winter.’ And, taking her arm, he led her through into a massive room. ‘This is the main living area, but the dining room is more cosy,’ he said softly.

Liza gazed around the vast room as he urged her across it. Soft deep sofas, exquisite antique furniture, glorious paintings on the walls, and vibrant flowers and plants—the place screamed money, and she was rapidly beginning to feel out of her depth.

Nick pushed open another door, and Liza stopped dead one foot inside the room.

A magnificent table about twenty feet long was set for two, and Greta and Paul were now standing by the table, smiling.

‘I’d hardly call this cosy!’ she exclaimed with a chuckle. ‘You could serve the Last Supper at that table and then some.’

Nick’s mouth quirked at the corners in a grin at Liza’s stunned expression, and, slipping his arm around her waist, he led her forward. ‘I suppose it is a bit imposing; I hadn’t really noticed as I usually eat in the kitchen.’ He gave her waist a brief squeeze before setting her free, but stayed close to her side. He heard her breath catch and saw the deepening colour in her brilliant eyes, and allowed a small, satisfied smile to curve his lips before adding, ‘But I so rarely have anyone to dine here that Greta wanted to push the boat out, as you say.’

Nick leant over slightly to say something to the other couple that Liza, although she spoke Spanish, didn’t catch. She watched as they left the room then Nick straightened up to his full, impressive height, and turned to face her again, pulling out a chair.

‘Please, Liza, sit down, and don’t look so wary; I can assure you, Paul and Greta won’t poison you.’

It wasn’t the food Liza was worried about; it was much too hot in here, she told herself, and it had absolutely nothing to do with Nick. She reached for the edge of her shawl, and immediately Nick’s hand caught it and slipped it off her shoulders.

‘A little warm for you, Liza?’ he queried with the arch of a black brow.

‘Yes,’ she got out, having difficulty breathing as the backs of his knuckles brushed down over her breasts as he removed her shawl, but not by the blink of an eye did she let it show. Instead she sat down on the chair he offered and folded her hands primly in her lap, her fingernails digging into her palms.

Liza wasn’t afraid to be alone with Nick—in fact, if she was honest she liked the idea. She had enjoyed his company all day, more so than that of any other man she had ever met, and she was secretly flattered that he wanted to be alone with her.

‘Now, isn’t this nice?’ Nick remarked, pulling out a chair and sitting down. ‘So much more intimate than a restaurant, don’t you think?’ Shovelling on the charm by the bucket-load, he picked up the linen napkin in front of her and flicked it open.

‘I can do that.’ She reached for the linen.

‘But I want to,’ Nick said softly and, leaning forward, his dark eyes holding her startled blue, he spread the linen napkin over her lap, his hands deliberately smoothing the fabric over her stomach and thighs. ‘Greta is going to serve the meal in a minute.’ His glance roamed over her face and figure with obvious male approval that, had it been any other man, would have made her angry, but instead the lingering touch of his fingers on her thighs made her whole body tingle with excitement.

‘I am hungry, and I’m sure you are too,’ Nick drawled with silken emphasis.

She tensed at the impact of his compelling dark gaze. Was it just food he was hungry for? Dear heaven, her own appetite had been seriously depleted by the erotic thoughts Nick aroused in her. She felt as if a thousand butterflies were partying in her stomach, and she tore her eyes away from his and cast a slightly panicked look around the room.

What were her options? Get up and walk out? But that would be childish. Or stay and eat like a civilised woman? Suddenly she was no longer feeling quite so confident. But her mind was made up for her as Greta reappeared carrying a large silver tureen, followed by Paul carrying a bottle of champagne in a silver wine bucket. They both smiled at her.

CHAPTER THREE

THE champagne cork popped and Liza jumped, and then grinned. She was overreacting—everything was perfect. Nick was seated at the head of the table and Paul was filling crystal flutes with very expensive champagne, and Greta was serving a delicious fish soup into the finest porcelain bowls.

When they had both left Nick picked up his glass, and said, ‘Here’s to you, Liza, and a pleasant evening, for both of us.’

She managed to control the slight nervousness that assailed her when they were alone, and she lifted her glass. ‘I’ll drink to that.’ Her steady voice and hand gratified her no end as they touched glasses.

Nick grinned and swirled the liquid around in his glass, then lifted it to his lips and swallowed before returning the glass to the table.

Liza followed the movement, her gaze stopping at his perfectly sculptured mouth, and she was helpless against the flush of heat that flooded her body as he took a deep drink of the champagne. Realising she was staring, she took a hasty drink from her glass. ‘Lovely champagne,’ she enthused. And saw him nod, his dark eyes lifting to hers.

‘Lovely companion.’ He touched his glass to hers again and then added, ‘And I am glad you agreed to dining here, Liza. Restaurants can be so impersonal sometimes, and I really want to talk to you, reminisce, and perhaps discover what has shaped you into the very lovely lady you are today.’ His glance dropped from her face to the firm curves of her breasts, and she felt them tighten alarmingly against the silk fabric of her dress. ‘Get to know the real you again.’

‘That sounds ominous,’ she offered and, dropping her head, praying he would not notice her body’s instant reaction, she added, ‘You might not like the real me,’ and carefully placed her glass on the table. Quickly she picked up a spoon and began shovelling the soup into her mouth. When she dared look up again, she needed not have worried.

‘Impossible. I already adore you, as you know; I have since you were a child,’ he said smoothly, his expression wryly amused. ‘Now, let us enjoy our meal, and you can tell me what you have been doing with your life over the past few years.’ His smile was irresistible.

‘Not a lot.’ Flattered, Liza grinned back. ‘And certainly nothing exciting enough to need privacy before disclosure.’ And she proceeded to give him a potted history of her adult life. ‘Three years in university reading history, and a job I enjoy, as I told you before. I have a studio apartment in London and I visit my mother every few weeks. She got married again three years ago and lives in Brighton, running an antique shop with Jeff, my stepfather. These are hardly state secrets.’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Nick responded with a devilish gleam in his dark eyes. ‘You might have become a porn star or a lap dancer; you certainly have the figure for it. And then there are your lovers. You have a high-powered job so maybe a lover or two in high places as well?’

His sexy teasing brought an embarrassing tinge of pink to her cheeks. Was he insinuating that was all she was good for, as he had years ago? Liza wondered, but refused to rise to the bait. ‘You know what I do for a living.’ She held his gaze. ‘But as for the rest, that is classified information,’ she managed to respond archly, much to her satisfaction.

Nick just bet it was. She was either very clever or very naive, and Liza looked far too sophisticated to be naive. He could not decide if she was completely in the know about her boss’s alternative career as a diamond smuggler or not, but for Carl’s sake he was taking no chances.

One eyebrow rose eloquently. ‘Of course, I expected no less, Liza.’ And the sardonic glance he cast her was oddly intent. ‘Though I have heard Henry Brown is not quite so reticent in his love life, although he is married, I believe.’

For a moment something unsettling about his comment teased at the back of her mind. But, dismissing the errant thought, she responded drily, ‘Henry is a law unto himself where women are concerned. And, though personally I deplore unfaithfulness in a marriage, I must admit, having met his wife, I’m not surprised.’ She tried for a sophisticated answer. Plus Margot Brown was a pretentious snob; the few times she visited the office or spoke to Liza or any of the staff she treated them as if they were a sub-species.

‘I believe you; after all, it must be great to have a boss who books a suite at a five-star hotel to attend a conference then quite happily takes off and gives you a holiday with all expenses paid at the drop of a hat. I must confess I am nowhere near as generous with my employees,’ Nick drawled sardonically.

Liza looked up sharply. What was he implying? And she answered her own question. She wasn’t a fool, she could tell when she was being insulted, and the old hurt resurfaced, causing a brief stabbing pain in her heart. Obviously he still thought of her as a promiscuous teenager and her blue eyes glinted with anger at the injustice of it all. ‘It is a two-bedroom suite.’ She held on to her temper with difficulty, determined not to show any emotion over the past in front of him. ‘And my boss was called away unexpectedly.’ Straightening in her seat, she added with contrived flippancy, ‘So who am I to argue? You know the saying, never look a gift-horse in the mouth.’

‘Yes.’ He did, but at the mention of ‘mouth’ Nick found his eyes fixed on the very generous curve of Liza’s, and imagined nibbling that full bottom lip… Dios! He had to stop these thoughts. He never mixed business with pleasure. But then he had never been confronted by the adult Liza before.

Dropping his gaze to the less tempting table, he continued in a softer tone, ‘I suppose you are right, Liza. But isn’t it rather odd that he does not want you to attend the meetings?’

‘I…well…’ Liza hesitated; his quite reasonable question made her think and defused her anger. She supposed it was a bit unusual.

‘I really don’t know.’ She told the truth. ‘I have only been his PA for a couple of months; his last one left to get married, and, as my boss retired about the same time, Henry sort of inherited me,’ she explained, not sure why she was bothering. ‘This is the first time I have travelled with him. And he is returning a week next Friday for the last day and the gala dinner in the evening, so maybe it will not be a complete waste.’

‘I hope not.’ Nick had the information he required and a flash of triumph glinted in his dark eyes; the man was coming back to the island in thirteen days’ time. The time span was about right for the negotiations; obviously Brown was returning to collect the money and he was as good as caught. A call to Carl, and, with the other culprits tracked down hopefully by the Spanish police and Interpol, the arrests were a foregone conclusion.

‘Yes, and we are returning to London together the next day, as scheduled,’ Liza added.

Not if he could help it, was Nick’s immediate thought. Liza had said she had only been Brown’s PA for a short time; that was easily checked and if true was in Liza’s favour. She could be innocent. His dark eyes narrowed assessingly on her apparently guileless face. A woman could look beautiful and innocent and still be a criminal. He was not foolish enough to think otherwise, and yet he knew he didn’t want Liza anywhere near Henry Brown when they picked him up.

At the very least she would end up being taken in for questioning, and that he could not allow. Surprisingly for him, he discovered he was not ready to part with Liza now he had met up with her again. At his age and with his experience of women, he knew the feeling for what it was—lust, stark and basic…

Liza had been an itch he could not scratch for years when she was younger, but not any more. He wanted to sate himself in that gorgeous body until she was out from under his skin for good.

Nick lifted the champagne flute and took a sip of the wine, then twirled the stemmed glass in his long fingers, studying the colour for several seconds, thinking quickly. Finally he shifted his dark gaze to linger appreciatively on her.

‘Your boss is a very lucky man,’ he declared huskily, his firm lips curving in a soft, sensual smile, ‘to have you as his PA.’ Little did Brown know, his luck had just about run out, Nick thought with savage satisfaction even as he mouthed the slick compliment.

‘Thanks,’ she said drily. But felt the colour rise in her cheeks as her eyes met his, too conscious of his virile charm and something in his expression that made her heartbeat increase dramatically. She finished her soup to hide her confusion, and was grateful when Greta reappeared with the next course.

As Nick had promised, the food was beautiful, and as they ate Nick took charge of the conversation and Liza was happy to follow. They talked in an easy manner, discussing films, books, music, and Nick’s experiences on various projects. Liza was fascinated and asked dozens of questions. He told her how he had expanded the company worldwide. He spoke with dry humour of the different business practices in the different countries, and the amusing situations that arose from the differences.

Nick was not the wealthy, idle lotus-eater she had thought; he obviously worked hard. But his skill, his charm, was such that he made everything appear easy. He told a good story, sometimes against himself, but she formed the impression that whatever the circumstances Nick always came out the winner. He had a brilliant mind, and she doubted anyone crossed him and got away with it.

Scraping the last mouthful of the mouth-watering soufflé into her mouth, she glanced up at him through the thick fringe of her lashes. ‘In a way you and I are a bit alike—you studied art and don’t use it. I read history at university and thought I would visit all the great historical places in the world, but instead I have ended up in finance, a bit of a waste.’

‘The experience of university life is an end in itself,’ Nick argued. ‘And I do use my knowledge; I appreciate anything of beauty, be it a woman or a landscape, I know where to site a building so it is aesthetically pleasing, though, with the upsurge in tourism around here in the last few years, some are anything but.’

Liza chuckled. ‘I never thought of that.’

‘Have you ever thought of changing, Liza?’ Nick demanded seriously. ‘You’re young—you have plenty of time to start another career.’ He was satisfied he had discovered all he needed to know. Henry Brown was returning to Lanzarote. As for Liza, he was almost sure she was innocent of any crime, and, even if she was guilty, once away from financial temptation and into something more academic it was possible she could change, and he never questioned his reasoning, simply pursued the thought.

‘You could get out of finance and back into what you really want to do,’ he suggested. ‘It is never too late, Liza, believe me. I might even be able to help you.’

‘I suppose you’re right.’ Liza smiled. ‘But don’t take it so seriously, Nick; I’ll survive whatever.’ And she sat back with a sigh of contentment. ‘That meal was magnificent, Greta is a great cook.’

‘You can tell her that in a minute,’ Nick said curtly. He didn’t know why but her casual attitude infuriated him, had she no idea of the danger she was in? Did she even care? Pushing back his chair, he stood up. ‘Greta will serve coffee in the sitting room.’

But what was really bugging him was his superior intellect had apparently deserted him. He had already missed half of the family celebration in Spain and if he didn’t get back to his mother’s for the final party he and his mother were hosting tomorrow evening, his mother would never forgive him. But what to do with Liza? He dared not leave her alone on the island without telling Carl or he would never forgive him either.

He had been racking his brains to think of some way of persuading Liza to come to Spain with him, and incidentally keep her out of harm’s way, but was damned if he knew how to do it. Short of asking her ‘Will you come to Spain with me for the rest of the weekend?’ But he knew that would go down like a lead balloon, given that she had made a point of avoiding visiting the Menendez home for years.

No, he had to think of something else, and, confident as he was in his masculine powers of seduction, he doubted all the seductive technique in the world would convince Liza to fly off to Spain with him only a day after their meeting up again.

Rising to her feet, Liza followed him through into the elegant living room, wondering what had caused the sudden coolness in the atmosphere. She sat down on one of the soft hide sofas, the occasional table already held the accompaniments for coffee, and a moment later Greta appeared with a pot to add to the already prepared tray.

Liza smiled at the other woman and thanked her for a lovely meal, and then stiffened when Nick chose to sit down beside her on the sofa instead of taking the one opposite. During the meal there had been space between them and the atmosphere had been good most of the time, but now she sensed a tension in the air, and she felt distinctly crowded.

‘Will you be mother?’ Nick asked smoothly.

The words hung in the air as Liza had a vivid mental image of being mother to Nick’s child, a small dark-haired angel. Her face turned scarlet at the provocative thought and hastily she bent forward and filled two small cups with the aromatic coffee. ‘Sugar, milk?’ she asked, without looking at him.

‘As it comes.’

Lifting one cup, she turned slightly, her hand stilling. Nick was lounging back against the cushions, one long arm flung along the back, his jacket hanging open and his shirt pulled tight across his muscular chest, she could see the slight shading of body hair and swallowed hard.

He gave her a long, sardonic look. ‘Are you going to give me the coffee, or simply hold it?’

Blushing at her stupidity—she was eyeing the man like the dumb teenager she had once been—she thrust the cup at him, a little of the liquid spilling, and his long fingers curved around hers.

‘Steady, Liza. I want to drink it, not drown in it,’ he drawled mockingly.

The touch of his hand sent a warmth shimmering through her, and quickly she snatched her hand back, and, grasping her own cup of coffee, forced herself to sit back against the sofa, and lift the cup to her mouth. She took one sip and almost burnt her tongue. Her lips tightened and she just prevented a yelp escaping.

She had to get over her panic; hadn’t she decided in the hotel earlier to take a chance? Nick was just a man like any other. But that was the trouble, he was not like any other man she had ever known, she thought ruefully, casting him a sidelong glance from beneath the thick screen of her lashes. How was it, she mused, that as a young girl she had had a crush on him and was brutally cured of the illusion by the man himself? For years she thought she hated him and yet now one day in his company and all she saw was a dominant, attractive male who turned her bones to jelly.

Feeling vulnerable in a man’s presence for the first time in years, she was not sure she trusted the feeling, and common sense told her to thank Nick for the meal and leave. With that in mind she drained her coffee-cup and replaced it on the table, and, turning slightly, she glanced at his face. He was looking down at her, his mouth a hard, taut line, and for a moment Liza felt a slight shiver of fear, or was it a shiver of sensual anticipation? She was not sure which, and quickly fixed her gaze somewhere over his left shoulder and before she could weaken.

‘Thank you for a lovely evening, Nick. But I think it is time I got back to my hotel.’ She made to rise, only to find a large restraining hand on her forearm.

‘Please join me in a brandy at least,’ Nick said softly, and placed his cup on the table, his dark gaze holding her own, and his thumb caressing the underside of her arm to devastating effect.

Liza was in two minds when the arrival of Paul solved the problem for her.

‘Your mother is on the line.’ He addressed Nick, a cordless telephone in his hand.

Saved by the bell! Nick thought, a huge smile lighting his handsome features, and took the telephone. ‘Hi, Mamma.’ He listened with delight as she harangued him about leaving her a note, and flying off to Lanzarote when she had been expecting him at home.

‘You were supposed to join your uncle and family tonight for dinner, and you’d better get yourself back here quick for the celebratory lunch and the party tomorrow night.’

‘Yes, I will be there, I promise. In fact I will leave tonight, to make absolutely sure, don’t worry.’

Listening to the one-sided conversation, Liza berated herself for her stupid fear five minutes ago, and her clumsy attempt to leave. Nick had plans for the rest of the weekend and the dinner was just as he had said. Two old friends catching up with each other. Then she heard the rest…

‘But you will never guess who I bumped into today.’ Nick shot Liza a brief grin and added, ‘Liza, Liza Summers; she is on holiday here, and we’ve just had dinner together.’

As Nick knew she would, his mother responded, ‘Oh, I haven’t seen Liza in years. Perhaps you can bring Liza back with you for the party. I would love to meet her again.’

‘Well, why don’t you ask her yourself, Mamma?’ Nick relaxed back against the cushions, ignoring Liza’s frantic shaking of her head, and held out the telephone to her while tightening his grip on her arm. ‘Mother would like to speak to you, Liza.’

Reluctantly Liza accepted the telephone. Anna Menendez was a very persuasive woman, as her son knew fine well, Liza thought balefully.

‘Well, of course I would love to see you again, and it is very kind to invite me, but I really couldn’t put Nick to the trouble of flying me to Spain and then back to Lanzarote again.’ Five minutes later when she handed the telephone back to Nick she was committed to going to Spain with him.

‘I don’t believe it.’ Liza jumped to her feet. ‘Why on earth did you tell your mother I was here?’ She glanced down at Nick as he placed the telephone on the table. Call over.

‘Because you were,’ he said with a shrug of his wide shoulders, and a devilish grin in her direction. Thanks to his mother his problem was solved. Nick had set out this morning with the intention of seducing Liza into giving him the information he wanted, but as the day progressed it was he who had been seduced by Liza’s beauty, her warmth, her genuine enthusiasm for life. He would ask her outright about the diamonds in case she had any more information. But he didn’t give a damn if she was guilty or not, he was keeping her with him for a few more days and that was all he cared about.

‘But you must have known that she’d feel obliged to ask me to her party?’

Rising to his feet, he studied her from beneath lowered lids, the soft, silky skin and the generous curve of her mouth, but at the moment she was bristling with indignation. She knew she had been manipulated—she wasn’t stupid. Nick hesitated, a hint of wariness flickering through his eyes.

The mood she was in, if he asked her about the theft of the diamonds, and she was innocent, he could kiss goodbye any chance of getting her into his bed. She would probably never speak to him again, and not surprisingly he found he did not like that idea one bit. He dismissed the thought of challenging her about the diamonds—that could wait. He could sense she was moments away from changing her mind, and he had to do something fast.

‘I never thought, but it seems like a good idea.’ He reached for her shoulders, and held her gently. ‘My mother is not getting any younger and she has been quite down lately; seeing you again is just the tonic she needs to cheer her up—she always had a soft spot for you.’ It wasn’t a lie; his mother had been down, but a course of antibiotics for a mild chest infection had put her right again, and he saw no need to tell Liza that. Emotional blackmail, sensual persuasion…he utilised all his skills. ‘And I am very reluctant to part with you so soon after meeting you again, Liza.’ A gentle pressure with his fingers, and a shiver arced down her spine. ‘Will it be such a hardship to spend a few days’ holiday in Spain and make an old woman happy?’

Hardship, no, but it was likely to cause her enormous pain, resurrecting old memories. Captivated by the sincerity in Nick’s dark eyes, she could feel her resentment at his high-handiness weakening. He loved his mother, of that she had no doubt.

‘I suppose not.’ He sounded perfectly reasonable, and put like that he was right. But she stiffened in his hold, mortified by her helpless response to his touch. She hated to admit it, but she had read such a lot into her meeting with Nick, the day out and everything, and it was humiliating to realise he hadn’t been bowled over by her looks or her personality; in fact, he probably still thought of her as the no-good little tramp of years ago. Nothing had changed…

Nick watched myriad expressions flutter over her exquisite features, and knew she was still not totally convinced, so bending his dark head, he brushed her lips with his own. ‘You think too much, Liza.’

‘Better than not thinking at all,’ Liza shot back sarcastically, but her heart was not in it. She told herself she had fallen for Nick’s soft soap like a stupid kid all over again. She should have remembered what an arrogant, conceited swine he was, intent on getting his own way whatever the cost. But somehow, with her lips tingling from the taste of him, however hard she tried she could not sustain her anger with him.

‘Relax, Liza, you will enjoy yourself. Come and sit down, have a brandy.’

‘I think I need one,’ Liza murmured and let him lead her back to the sofa, and made no objection when, seated beside her, he kept one arm around her waist, holding her close to his side.

‘You know my mother,’ he prompted with a wry smile. ‘She gets an idea in her head and won’t budge. She still thinks she offended you and that is why you have never visited in years. My jet is standing by at the airport, Liza, you’re unexpectedly free for a week or so…there will never be a better time.’

With a flash of insight Liza knew she would let this man take her anywhere; after years of frustration she had finally met again the man whose slightest touch thrilled her to the core. ‘I don’t have a choice,’ she said drily. ‘I have already told your mother I would go.’ And she had already told herself earlier she wanted to see where the relationship with Nick would lead, and she would never have a better chance.

‘Never mind Mamma, I want you to come for me,’ Nick husked and looked long and deep into her eyes.

Liza felt as if he was looking into her soul, and what she had thought was a simple case of sexual chemistry between them suddenly took on a frightening dimension. She noted tiny flecks of gold in the darkening depths of his eyes, and all her muscles tensed as she forgot his mother, forgot everything except the heady awareness of this man that filled her mind to the exclusion of everything else.

‘Nick,’ she thought, not realising she had said his name out loud. He tugged at her heart-strings like no other man before, or ever would again, she realised with blinding clarity. She wanted him, and instinctively she moved closer to his side.

‘Yes, Liza.’ His voice roughened as he held her firmly then quickly slipped his other arm around her to draw her even closer. She felt the hardness of his body and the heat of him searing her, even through the fabric of her dress. His dark head bent and his lips hovered over hers. ‘I knew you would be sensible,’ he murmured and then he kissed her, his tongue slipping between her parted lips in a deeply sensual kiss.