I'd Rather Be In Paris (21 page)

The heels of her shoes clicked on the marble floor of the sunroom until she stopped and looked around for Lawson. This was where she figured he'd be, by the door to the Tower Room, but he wasn't there. She scanned the shadows cast by the wall sconces and moonlight, but she could sense as well as see her partner had not waited for her.

She folded her arms across her chest and tapped her foot on the floor. Well, didn't that just beat all? She'd told him she had something to show him after dinner and then she'd pulled out all the stops—the silk Valentino with its plunging V-neckline and open back, her hair immaculately swept up and off her face, her strategic placement of blush and perfume.

On top of that, she knew she'd sent Lawson all the right signals and he had sent her some very strong ones back. Even Christian had been sure of Lawson's interest. So what was the deal? Why wasn't he waiting for her?

Her foot tapped faster. Knowing Lawson, he'd played her over dinner like she'd been playing him.

He
was the tease.

Her hands went to her hips and her chin came up. Well, she'd just show him. She marched over to the closed door of the Garden Room and knocked.

Two seconds later, he threw open the door, a towel in his hand. His jacket was off and his shirt was out of his waistband and completely unbuttoned. His feet were bare. Wiping water from his face with the towel, he smiled. “Well, if it isn't my favorite Bond girl."

Her insides turned to instant mush and her previous irritation evaporated. “Uh,” she stammered. “I, uh...”
Don't stutter
. Clearing her throat, she started again. “Did you forget I wanted to show you something upstairs?"

Smooth
. Real smooth. Talk about the lost art of seduction, she sounded like a pathetically bad actress in a porn movie. “The stars,” she blurted out. “I wanted to show you the stars. Upstairs. On the tower roof."

One corner of his mouth quirked up. He threw the towel on the bed behind him. “Lead the way."

She was conscious of his eyes on her backside as she crossed the sunroom and took him through the door and up the spiral stairs to her room. Leaning over the railing, she pointed to the bed and told Lawson how everyone from Bianca Jagger to Princess Diana had spent a night there. He seemed unimpressed and she continued to climb. A few seconds later, she stepped onto the roof with him behind her and was pleased when she heard him whistle softly between his teeth as he took in the view.

It
was
stunning. The top of the tower stood out above a canopy of trees, which at night looked like chocolate pouring down into the valley. The waning moon lit the sky and the stars seemed to twinkle literally right above their heads. Although they couldn't see it clearly in the blanket of the night, the Rhône bubbled and gurgled in the distance. The air was cool and scented with rosemary drifting up from the gardens below.

"Doesn't it make you feel like a god?” Zara skirted the marble table and wrought-iron chairs in the center of the roof. She gave in to the urge to spread her arms and twirl under the moon. Dropping her head back, she laughed up at it. “Like you're above mere mortals?"

"It's incredible,” Lawson said, coming up beside her. He captured one of her outstretched arms and drew her to his chest. “And so are you."

He stared down into her eyes and slid his arms around her waist. A low hum started deep inside her. As one hand touched her naked back, a shiver ran up her spine. He lowered his mouth to hers and took advantage of her parted lips. With her heart thudding, she stood on her tiptoes and offered more of her mouth to him. His kiss became instantly hotter.

For a moment, she let herself just stand there and enjoy Lawson's greedy exploration of her mouth, but then the vibration inside her turned erotic and demanding, and she kissed him back, wanting to consume whatever it was he was feeding her. Her bold self got even bolder, primal and wild.

She ran her hands inside his shirt, enjoying the ripple of muscles under her palms as he broke the kiss and sucked in his breath. He was so solid and strong, she wanted to sink her teeth into him.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pushed her body closer and he helped her, pressing on the small of her back to bring her into full contact with him.

She dug her fingers into his short hair, forcing his mouth down to hers. The kiss again became urgent and the heat in her stomach fanned out, spreading to her legs where they touched Lawson's, to her breasts buried against his chest. To her bottom that he was now cupping as he bent her backwards and slid his wet mouth down her neck.

His other hand held her head as he pushed her further back, the tip of his tongue touching the hollow of her throat. Her breath caught right there as she gazed up at the stars above them, and she held onto him for dear life. He brushed his lips back up to her ear and whispered her name, the heat of his breath sending another shudder through her.

He paused, looking down into her eyes. “Tell me what you want, Z,” he said, his voice low and rough.

She answered him strong and clear. “I want you."

Lawson tipped his head, looking heavenward. “Thank you, God.” He glanced down at her again. “Are you sure?"

Resting her hands on his gorgeous chest, Zara gave him a wicked smile. “It's stupid and completely unprofessional, but I've never been surer about anything in my life."

Lawson chuckled low in his throat. “From you, that's quite a testament."

Her heart was pounding with the sweet mixture of lust and dread and she wanted him to feel it. She took his hand and pressed it to her chest. He was heady passion wrapped around strength and kindness, a combination she couldn't have resisted even if she'd wanted to.

She didn't want to. Wherever Lawson was going to take her, whatever roller-coaster ride they were on, she wanted to go. She hoped somehow he would feel the pounding of her heart and understand.

He kissed her tenderly then, making love to her mouth under the moon and the stars. It was beautiful and romantic, but after a minute Zara wanted more. She didn't want him to treat her like she might break. She wanted him to treat her like the woman she was.

Sucking his tongue into her mouth, she teased him. A low moan sounded in his throat and the intensity of their kisses shot back up into the danger zone.

She moved his hand from her heart to her breast. His fingers closed over her and she sighed into his mouth. His hand felt good there, but it wasn't enough. She wanted it on her bare skin. As if he read her mind, he pushed the spaghetti strap of her dress off her shoulder, peeling the white fabric down to free her breast. He cupped it again. “Jesus,” he whispered, “you're so soft."

The touch of his rough palm on her sensitive breast made the breath rush from her lungs. She tugged the other spaghetti strap off her shoulder, and he helped her pull the top of the dress down to her waist. His free hand closed over her other breast and his mouth again took hers. She slanted her head and fed him short hot kisses, running her hands over every part of his body she could touch. His hair, his face, his shoulders. She tangled her fingers in the short, curly hair of his chest and gently scratched her nails down his corrugated stomach.

His mouth broke free and he murmured in her ear, “Let's go back to my room."

The lust inside her was coiled so tight, Zara had almost forgotten where they were. “Why?"

"So I can make love to you properly.” He took her hand in his and stepped back.

Even after everything they'd been through, Lawson still thought of her as a pampered rich girl. Someone who had to have a nice bed under her so she could lay back and let the man do all the work. Someone who didn't want her hair mussed up or her makeup kissed off.

The hell with that. She resisted, planting her feet, and tugged him back to her. She didn't want anything about this encounter to be proper. She wanted wild, sweaty, curl-your-toes, scream-your-lungs-out sex and she wanted it right there on the roof of Villa Bernier.

"We do it here, Vaughn,” she said, licking her swollen lips, “or we don't do it at all."

He raised a brow at her challenge and his eyes did a slow sweep of her naked upper half. “I wouldn't want to ruin that pretty dress."

Zara thought about it for a moment, looking down at the folds of white silk covering her legs. It
would
be a shame to wreck such a wonderful dress, but...

"Forget the dress. I can replace it if necessary."

A sensual smile danced on his mouth and he stepped toward her. “You had to think about it."

She took a step back. “It
is
a Valentino."

"It could be a blue-light special and you'd still look like a million bucks.” He took another step toward her and the same carnal expression she'd seen at dinner crossed his face. “Now take it off."

She licked her lips again and turned, presenting her back to him. “Unzip me?"

His fingers touched her back and before she could suck in her breath, the zipper separated and the Valentino pooled at her feet. A soft whistle emanated from between Lawson's teeth and she almost giggled.

He skimmed her shoulder blades with the tips of his fingers and slowly traveled down her spine to the top of her butt. “Jesus,” he murmured into her hair, his warm breath falling on the top of her shoulders. “I never would have made it through dinner if I'd known you weren't wearing anything under that dress."

As he turned her around, she hugged his neck, bringing her mouth up to meet his and arching into him. He grasped her bottom and lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. One shoe and then the other dropped off her feet.

Walking her backwards a few steps, Lawson deposited her on the ornate Italian marbled tabletop, his gaze roaming over her naked skin. His hands followed, touching her all over.

Zara's lust was now tight inside her. A wonderful feeling, it was also terrifying and overwhelming in its intensity. She sat forward, grabbing Lawson's shirt and peeling it off his shoulders and down his arms. “Your turn."

He stepped back, stripped down to nothing and stood naked in front of her. Moonlight touched the tops of his shoulders. The Greek God statues in the garden below had nothing on him. His solid muscles and impressive proportions were enough to make a grown woman giddy with anticipation.

"I want you,” he said, stepping between her legs and bringing his face down to hers so their noses touched. “But I want to be damned sure this is what you want too."

She whispered against his lips, “This is what we both want. Get to it."

"Yes, ma'am.” He kissed a trail down her neck to the pulse beating in the hollow. He continued his descent, kissing her nipples, then licking them and sucking each one into his mouth as his fingers slipped between her legs. She opened herself up to him and gasped as those fingers touched her with demanding strokes, making her greedy for more. She lay back on the tabletop, feeling the cool night air replace Lawson's mouth on her breasts as he let her go.

His attention traveled over her entire body and then he smiled. A smile so masculine the hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up. When he dipped his head and kissed her navel, goose bumps rose all over her body. She sank her hands into his hair, as soft as her mother's sable cape, and laughed into the night air.

A second later, the laughter stuck in her throat as Lawson moved lower. He spread her legs and kissed her between them, his warm mouth making her swear under her breath and grasp the edges of the table.

White-hot currents shot through her from head to toe, tingling her breasts, her stomach, her legs. She closed her eyes as Lawson used his tongue and mouth to pull moans from her and coax her toward orgasm. “I haven't even gotten to touch you yet,” she whispered.

He withdrew his mouth a micron, his breath sending more goose bumps racing over her skin. “We've got the rest of the night, Zara. The op plan is for you to enjoy every minute of it."

Reaching down, she grabbed his hair and pulled his face up to hers. “It's been a long dry spell for me in this area. I want you inside me. Now."

He chuckled. “You're the boss."

"Finally, you let me be in charge."

As he moved away, she rose up on her elbows to see what he was doing. He snatched his pants from the ground and shoved his hand into one of the pockets. Withdrawing a foiled wrapper, he ripped it open and proceeded to glove himself with a condom.

"Do you carry condoms on every mission?” she asked without thinking. Probably she didn't want to know.

"No.” He returned to the spot between her legs. “There was a box in my top dresser drawer along with the packaged underwear. Extra-large, ultra-thin.
C'est très bien, non?
"

Zara laughed at his awful accent and wrapped her hand around him. “Ahh,” she said, loving the way he felt. “
C'est très superbe!
"

Her body only accepted him so far before it resisted. She held onto his shoulders as he rocked his hips, slowly pushing his way farther and farther into her. Finally her muscles relaxed and let him bury himself all the way to the hilt.

"How's that?” he whispered against her cheek.

The nerve endings in her body screamed for more, and she shifted, grinding her pelvis into him. “Move.” She grabbed his buttocks and pressed him down. “I need you to move."