Eventually, when the fire began to die low, he said, ‘Time for bed, don’t you think?’
At her nod, he asked wickedly, ‘Do you still want to sleep in your own bed, in your own room? Alone?’
‘That depends.’
‘On what?’
‘On what inducements you can offer.’
‘Well, let me see… I could…’ Putting his lips close to her ear, he whispered erotic suggestions that made her toes curl and heat run through her.
Feigning indifference, she said, ‘I suppose that could be worth staying for.’
‘I’ll make sure it is,’ he promised.
Having set her carefully on her feet, and stripped off her night things and his own clothes, he carried her back to bed and got in beside her.
While his lips traced the pure line of her jaw and his hands started to caress her, she asked, ‘Is your middle name really James?’
Stopped in his tracks by the unexpected question, he promised, ‘You’ll find out when we get married.’
‘Are we getting married?’
‘We’re not only getting married, but in our very own chapel.’
‘How wonderful…’ Then dreamily, ‘How many children would you like?’
Against her throat, he said, ‘To begin with, I want you all to myself for a while, then perhaps we could start with a little girl just like you.’
‘I was thinking of a couple of boys first… But perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad idea for them to have an older sister. Then—’
A finger to her lips, he said, ‘Whoa there!’
‘You don’t want a big family?’
‘I’d love a big family.’
‘That’s good, because I—’
Stopping her lips once more, he said severely, ‘But it may never happen if you don’t stop talking and let me get some practice in.’
As she started to laugh, his heart swelling with love, he kissed her.
For a time the only sounds in the room were the rustle of logs settling in the grate and her little gasps and moans as, with hands and lips and tongue, he followed through with his whispered suggestions.
Both were conducive to practice.
All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II BV/S.à.r.l. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.
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First published in Great Britain 2009
Harlequin Mills & Boon Limited,
Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
© Lee Wilkinson 2009
ISBN: 978-1-408-91274-4
Captive in the Millionaire’s Castle Page 17