Captured by the Billionaire: Brooding Billionaire, Impoverished Princess

Her father’s cellar and her mother’s jewels had helped pay off his debts after her parents had been killed. Selling the villa, with its magnificent gardens, hadn’t been enough. The only things she’d been able to salvage were her mother’s tiara—paste, she’d discovered to her shock—and her father’s telescope.

‘So I’ve heard,’ Alex said.

A note in his voice made Serina wonder what else he’d heard about her father. That he was also a great connoisseur of women?

Ignoring the cynical thought, she said lightly, ‘And of course anyone who likes wine knows that New Zealand produces really interesting, fresh vintages that have won some top competitions.’

She relaxed when they moved on to more general topics. Alex’s keen mind fascinated her, and she quickly learned to respect his breadth of knowledge.

Yet his every word, each disturbing look from those ice-blue eyes, was enriched by an undercurrent of muted, potent sensuality. Focused on her, hot and intense, it sharpened her senses into an unbearably exciting awareness of everything about him—from the deep timbre of his voice to the lithe masculine grace of his movements.

During the superb meal and coffee in the library afterwards, Serina was not only aware of a smouldering arousal, but was shocked to find herself unconsciously sending subtly flirtatious glances his way.

Enough, she commanded after a pause that had gone on too long. Much more of this, and you’ll be asking him to kiss you again.

Or take you to bed…

But it took a huge effort of will to uncoil herself from an elderly and extremely comfortable leather sofa in front of the fireplace and say huskily, ‘I suspect I haven’t entirely got over jet lag. I know I should try to stay awake, but I’m going to drop off to sleep right here if I don’t go.’

He got to his feet. The renewed impact of his height and the fluid power of his body stirred a heady stimulation more potent than the champagne she’d drunk before dinner.

Terrified that he’d recognise her chaotic mixture of need and longing, she kept her gaze fixed on the arrogant jut of his jaw and dredged up enough composure to say almost steadily, ‘Thank you for a delicious meal and a very pleasant evening.’

But, when she turned to go, a hand on her shoulder froze her into stillness. Heart juddering into overdrive, she opened her mouth to object, then closed it again and allowed herself to be eased around to face him.

Their eyes duelled—his narrowed in an intent, direct challenge so forceful she shivered.

‘Tell me what you want,’ he said, each word harsh and distinct.

She swallowed and nodded, stunned at her trust in this man she barely knew. ‘You already know,’ she said in a tone she’d never used before.

His chest rose and fell. Mindlessly, she swayed into his arms as they closed around her.

‘Look at me,’ he commanded, his voice low and raw.

Serina obeyed, and abandoned the final remnants of caution when she saw his gaze heat with a blaze of desire.

It was far too soon to surrender, she thought vaguely, but when his mouth claimed hers her mind closed down, yielding to the pure carnal rapture of sensation, releasing the barriers of her will to let her body enjoy what it craved—had craved so desperately since their first kiss.

No, even before that, although she’d rarely let herself admit it. Their first meeting a year ago had sparked a hunger that the long months apart had only increased.

His lips opened on hers, coaxing and persuasive. Shivering deliciously at the silent invitation, she accepted it. His tongue plunged, and she wriggled against him, her body insistently demanding a satisfaction she’d never yet experienced.

Alex’s arms tightened, bringing her into intimate, explosive contact with the hardness of his loins. Rivulets of fire ran through her, turning into ashes all the convictions that had kept her a virgin.

He lifted his head. Serina sighed, turned her face into his neck and sank her teeth lightly into his skin.

‘Serina.’

The way he said her name—in a voice raw with passion—sounded more wonderful to her than the most exquisite music. She kissed the tanned, subtly flavoured skin she’d bitten, inhaling the faint sensuous scent that was his alone. A shudder flexed his lean body and she felt the latent power there, the male strength she both desired and feared.

‘Alex,’ she said softly and, in her own language, the language of her ancestors, she murmured, ‘Your kiss has stolen my soul…’

‘What are you saying?’

Realisation iced through her. How could she have been so swept away as to come out with that? Shocked, she overcame her reckless need sufficiently to say tonelessly, ‘It’s something from an old Montevellan folk song. My first nurse used to sing it to me…’

The words faltered in her mouth and she could have bitten her tongue out. If this was what lust did to you—unlocked the bars of your mind so that all the secrets came spilling out—it was terrifying.

And love had to be even worse—a total revelation. How could anyone bear it? Closing her eyes, she turned her head away.

‘Translate it for me,’ Alex said.

Ever since she’d been old enough to realise the depths of passion in the simple words, she’d refused to believe anyone could feel so desperately lost to desire. Now she’d known that same reckless capitulation, she understood, and the knowledge locked her lips.

A lean finger turned her head, tilted it. She forced her eyelids up, braced herself to meet and repel the leashed authority of his gaze.

‘Serina?’

And, when she couldn’t move, he said, ‘All right, you don’t want to tell me, but you can come out of hiding.’

Shrugging, she tried for a smile. It wobbled precariously, but she managed to say in a reasonably level voice, ‘It’s nothing, really. Take the music away and it turns into the usual treacly sentiments you find in every pop song. And I’m not going to sing it to you!’

She felt his chest lift, and his quiet laughter reverberated against her. ‘It seems only poets can do true justice to our deepest emotions. Whatever was said in your old song, it’s entirely mutual.’

Swift and sure, he kissed her. His previous kisses had taken her to an unknown place where the rules she’d lived her life by were shattered. This one was so frankly carnal it set her head reeling. Her mouth softened under his, opened again.

A prisoner of dangerous need, she melted into him, taking reckless delight in the harsh intake of his breath. Whatever he felt, she thought with her last remnant of logic, he couldn’t hide his hunger.

When he lifted his head she tensed, thinking he was going to stop, but he transferred his attention to her throat, and after he’d found the vulnerable hollow at the base he trailed kisses across the silken skin to reach the acutely sensitive spot at the junction of her neck and shoulder.

Her knees buckled at the sensation—urgent and savagely consuming—that drowned her in molten pleasure, singing through her body with a primal magnetic summons.

His teeth grazed her skin, repeating the erotic little caress she’d given him. Sensation stormed through her. In her innermost heart Serina realised that she had been born for his touch.

Born for this man…

Panic clogged her throat.

Alex raised his head. Half-closed gaze holding her still, he shifted one hand to cup a pleading, sensitised breast.

Anticipation, wild and feverishly sweet, clamoured through Serina. Unable to bear the intensity of it, stunned by the discovery she’d just made, she let her lashes droop to hide her eyes.

But he commanded, ‘Look at me.’

Barely able to articulate, she whispered, ‘It’s too much…’

‘It’s not enough,’ he rasped.