It Started With One Night: The Magnate's Mistress / His Bride for One Night / Master of Her Virtue

Turning away from her, he tossed the tie on top of the jacket then started undoing the buttons on his shirt.

‘Go and put something on,’ he bit out, not looking at her. ‘If you must.’

Tara dashed into the bathroom and shakily pulled on the green wrap, hating herself for feeling relieved. When she finally returned to the bedroom, Max was sitting on the foot of the bed, taking off his shoes and socks. His shirt was hanging open, but he hadn’t taken it off.

Tara’s heart sank. Did he think she was that modest? She loved his chest, with its broad shoulders, wonderfully toned muscles and smattering of curls.

‘Did…did you fix up things for those people?’ she asked somewhat sheepishly.

‘Naturally,’ he replied without looking up at her. ‘I had them moved into one of the honeymoon suites, on the house. And I told them they could have a free harbour-view room for their anniversary next year.’

‘Oh, Max, that was generous of you. And very smart. That man would have bad-mouthed the hotel for years, you know. To anyone who would listen. Now he’ll say nothing but good things. People love getting something for free. I know I do. I can never resist those buy-one, get one-free promotions.’

‘Really?’ He finally looked up, but his clouded eyes indicated that he was suddenly off in another world. Max did that sometimes. Tara knew better than to ask him what he was thinking about. Whenever she did, he always said ‘nothing important’.

‘So which honeymoon suite are they in?’ she asked instead. The hotel was famous for its four themed honeymoon suites, which Tara knew cost a bomb to stay in. Bookings showed that the Arabian Nights suite was the most popular, followed by the Naughty Nautical suite, the French Bordello suite and, lastly, the Tropical Paradise suite.

‘What? Oh, there was only the one available tonight. The French Bordello. Mr Travis seemed tickled pink. Can’t say the same for Mrs Travis. She seemed a little nervous. Maybe she’s on the shy side. Like you.’

‘I’m not all that shy,’ Tara dared to say at last.

Max darted her a dry look.

‘All right, I am, a bit,’ she went on, swallowing when he stood up and started undoing his trouser belt.

The prospect of watching him strip down to total nakedness before he’d even kissed her was definitely daunting. But at the same time she wanted him to, wanted him to do what she wasn’t bold enough to do, wanted him to force her to stop being so silly.

‘Don’t panic,’ he said drily and, whipping out his belt, deposited it with his other clothes. ‘I won’t take anything more off. I’m going to have a shower, and when I come out I’ll be wearing my bathrobe. Meantime, why don’t you order us something from Room Service? I don’t know about you but I’m starving. I nodded off on the plane so I didn’t get to eat anything. I’ve made us a booking for dinner at eight but that’s hours away.’

‘We’re going out to dinner?’ Tara said, taken aback.

‘I’ve only booked the restaurant here in the hotel. Is that all right with you?’

‘Oh, yes. I love going to dinner with you there. It’s just that…well, the last couple of times you’ve come home, we’ve eaten in.’

‘Yes, I know. And I’m sorry. That was selfish of me. But, as I said earlier, you’re a different girl between the sheets, so I try to keep you there as long as possible.’

She blushed. ‘Don’t make fun of me, Max.’

He groaned and walked round to draw her into his arms. ‘I’m not making fun of you, princess. I would never do that. You’re you and I love you just the way you are.’

‘Kiss me, Max,’ she said quite fiercely.

His eyes searched hers. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea. Not yet.’

‘But I can’t wait any longer!’

‘You can’t wait. Hell, Tara, what is it with you today? Are you punishing me for neglecting you lately?’

‘I just want you to kiss me. No, I need you to kiss me.’

With a groan, he kissed her. Then he kissed her some more, till her knees went to water and she was clinging to him for dear life. When he swept her up and dropped her less than gently onto the bed, Tara made no protest. Neither did she turn her eyes away whilst he started ripping off the rest of his clothes.

She wanted to look. Wanted to see him wanting her.

Her breath caught at the extent of his desire.

He loomed over her, tugging the sash of her robe undone, throwing the sides back to bare her body to his blazing eyes.

For what felt like an eternity, he drank her in, leaving her breathless and blushing. Then, with a few more savage yanks, the satin robe joined his clothes on the floor.

There was no tender foreplay. No gentle kisses all over. Just immediate sex. Rough and raw. Maybe not quite ravagement but close to.

And oh, how she thrilled to the primitive urgency of his passion. And to her own.

She splintered apart in no time, rocked by the force of her orgasm, overwhelmed by the experience, and by a degree of emotional confusion.

As the last spasm died away, a huge wave of exhaustion flooded Tara’s body, her limbs growing as heavy as her eyelids. She could not keep them open. She could not stay awake. With a sigh, she sank into the abyss of sleep.

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_d278084a-5d8c-59e4-97f2-e65bc7ae90ce)

MAX stared down at her with a stunned look on his face.

Asleep! She’d fallen asleep!

He shook his head in utter bewilderment. Tara never fell asleep afterwards.

On top of that, she’d actually enjoyed his making love to her like that! Hell, no, she’d exulted in it! She’d dragged him over the edge with her in record time. And now she was out like a light, more peaceful than he’d ever seen her.

Relief swamped him at the realisation he didn’t have to feel too much remorse over losing control and being less than the careful, considerate, patient lover he’d come to believe Tara wanted, and needed. Not losing control when he was around her this past year had been a terrible battle between the lust she evoked in him, and the love.

Max thought he’d done pretty well…until today.

If only she hadn’t met him looking delicious in those skin-tight jeans and those sexy shoes. If only she hadn’t told him she wasn’t wearing a bra. If only he hadn’t kissed her then and there.

His relationship with Tara was full of ‘if only’s, the main one being if only he hadn’t stopped to look in the window of Whitmore Opals that Friday night, and spotted her inside.

It had been lust at first sight. When she’d agreed to have drinks with him less than ten minutes after his going in and introducing himself, he’d been sure he was in for a wild night with a woman of the world. With his impossible workload and repeated overseas trips, Max’s sex life had been reduced to the occasional one-nighter with women who knew the score, and Tara seemed just the ticket to ride.

But the reality had proven so different. Her telling him shakily that she was a virgin even before he’d got her bra off had certainly put the brakes on the type of activities he’d been planning. Max had been shocked, but also entranced. Who would have believed it?

Fortunately, finding out before he’d gone too far gave him the opportunity to slow things down and make sure her first experience was pleasurable and not painful. He’d taken her to bed and really taken his time with her.

Looking back, making love to her at all had probably been a mistake. He should have cut and run. But he hadn’t; that very first time had made him swiftly decide that one night with Tara would not be enough. He’d kept her in his bed all weekend, making love to her as he hadn’t made love to a female in years. Sweetly. Tenderly. And totally selflessly.

Unfortunately, this was what Tara came to expect from him every time. Max soon realised he was dealing with a girl whose appearance belied her real nature. Underneath the sexy-looking blonde surface, the long legs and fabulous boobs, lay a naively romantic girl.

In some ways, Tara could be surprisingly mature. She was well-educated, well-read and well-travelled. And she certainly had a way with people, exuding a charm and social grace far beyond her years.