Page 62 of All the Drama from New York

There was an edge in his voice, and she caught the meaning behind his question. Did she think he wasn’t good enough for finely made clothes? If that was his way of thinking he couldn’t have been more wrong.

“You are the kind of man who could wear anything and look good. But this sort of casual American t-shirt speaks of a genuine man. A man who is comfortable in his skin.” She hoped he understood what she was trying to say.

Ryan’s lips touched her forehead, and he murmured, “And would you like to touch the skin under my ratty old shirt just to be sure?”

“Tu ne sais pas à quel point je te veux,” she replied slipping back into her native French. Sometimes the English language couldn’t express the right words. Only the language of love would do. And for this moment, it was all she could say to express her desire for him.

He cupped a hand under her chin and lifted her face to his, their lips barely touching. A shiver went down her spine at the promise of a sweet, slow seduction.

“I might not have understood a single word of what you just said, but I’ll take that as a yes.” His arm slipped about her waist, and he pulled her hard against him. Camille let out a sigh of delight as she felt the bulge of his hard-on against her abdomen. They were in this together, and it was finally going to happen.

She’d kill anyone who dared to knock on the front door.

“I wonder if Paul the housekeeper had figured we might end up like this, or do you think he just assumed we were together?” she asked.

“I don’t know, but I plan on leaving him a sizeable tip when we vacate.”

Camille laughed at his joke. Her laugh turned into a giggle as he bent and, tucking his arms under her knees, scooped her up in one easy, fluid move. Thank god for big strong, all American males.

“Last chance to say no to me carrying you upstairs, Ms. Royal.”

“I have a feeling I will never be able to say no to you Mister Collins.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

When they reached the bedroom, he lay Camille gently on the bed. No sooner had she come to rest on top of the duvet, then he was crawling on top of her, playfully nipping at the hem of her sundress with his teeth.

“How would you like to be worshipped my princess? Slowly or are you a woman who needs it hard and fast?”

It had been so long since a man had seen her naked, had made love to her, that Camille had almost forgotten what she liked. “Do I have to choose? We could always work our way through the menu, then decide on a favorite dish.”

His brows lifted in clear amusement. “Very well then. But just so you know, at the end of this sexual degustation, I’m cooking dinner for us. And you my little rosebud are going to help.”

“I can’t cook. But I can pour a mean glass of wine,” she replied.

Ryan shook his head. “I’m going to teach you how to read a recipe. And how to use the stove.”

“Sounds fun.”

“It will be, first I need to feast on you.”

He slipped the delicate straps of her sundress from her shoulders then tugged on the front. Camille silently congratulated herself for having had the good sense to wear a summer frock with an elasticized bodice. Ryan’s strong hands worked the fabric down, leaving her pretty rose pink bra exposed.

“Tell me that this is super expensive designer lingerie, or else I’m going to rip it to pieces,” he whispered in a voice that had her core clenching.

“Oh…” she breathed. “It’s Kiki de Montparnasse. It’s a New York brand whose creative director I just happen to be friends with, and who also loves my designs. We gift samples of clothes whenever either of us release a new range. This is part of the new Spring collection.”

His eyes glazed over, and her rambling monologue ceased. She sensed Ryan’s growing interest in the fashion industry wasn’t topmost thing on his mind right this minute. Something else was growing and pressing against her stomach.

Camille let out a breath. Before things went any further, she had a confession to make. “I um.”

His brows furrowed and he pulled back. “If you are having second thoughts, I’ll understand. Just say the word and I’ll go downstairs and start making us dinner.”

She grabbed a fistful of his t-shirt. “No it’s not that, it’s just—I hope you won’t think any less of me, when I tell you that I packed a box of condoms in my suitcase.”

Those same dark eyebrows now lifted, and he let out a sigh. “Thank fuck for that, because I hadn’t. I was just going to pleasure you.” He pointed at the bulge in his shorts. “Then I was going to take a long cold shower before heading to the grocery store.”

He leaned over and captured her mouth in a long lingering kiss, then murmured against her cheek. “The thought that youhoped to seduce me while we were here on the island is making me rock hard, Camille. How about you slip one of those condoms onto my cock, and I’ll make sure you get a big hard reward for being such a well-prepared girl?”

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