The Duke’s Secret Wife Read Online Free PDF Page B

and along the soft whiteness of her thighs to the spot where the sharpest pulse of hunger throbbed in aching need, then slowly, agonisingly, away again.
    ‘You want to know why I’m here,’ he muttered against her mouth. ‘Well, I’ll tell you. I’m here because when I got that letter I realised there was no way I could let you go. In all the time we’ve been apart, no woman has ever had the effect on me that you had. I can’t eat—I can’t sleep for wanting you. I haven’t lived these past years, couldn’t rest until I had you back in my arms, in my bed. And then when I saw you again—just one look was all it took to revive the old feelings—the hunger, the desire…’
    He paused, looked deep into her eyes, then lifted one hand to trail the backs of his fingers slowly down the side of her face, his darkened gaze holding her mesmerised as he did so.
    ‘And I know you’re feeling the same.’
    ‘Yes…’
    She didn’t even think of trying to deny it. Each tiny touch had triggered off explosions of desire along every nerve in her body. It was as if she were a ready-laid fire, primed with finest kindling, dust-dry logs. All it needed was the spark of a single match to set light to everything, send the flames of passion roaring through her, drying her mouth so that she licked nervously at painfully parched lips.
    ‘Yes,’ she croaked again. ‘That’s exactly the way I’ve been feeling.’
    The way she was leaning towards him was inviting him to do exactly the same. The way she was looking at him was like a magnet, drawing him closer and closer. The way her mouth had softened, her lips parting, was an open invitation for his kiss again.
    And Luis took it without hesitation.
    His hands came out, slid round the back of her neck, up into the golden fall of her hair. The pressure of their hold brought her face to his, angling her head so that their mouths fitted perfectly together.
    This time, the first touch of his lips was gentle, almost tentative, searching, questioning. But when her response gave him the answer he sought without restraint, then the kiss soon turned into a powerful, crushing demand.
    And she met that too. Met it and matched it, moving from following to leading in the space of an urgent, pounding heartbeat. Her kiss told its own story of longing and hunger, of giving him of herself and taking everything he offered.
    And when, with their mouths still locked together, he stood up, strong arms taking her upright with him, she knew exactly what he had in mind because it was what was in her thoughts too. She went with him, willingly and gladly, her heart recognising that this was what she wanted most in all the world.
    He half walked, half carried her towards the bedroom, finding it by instinct, his lips still taking hers, tasting, giving, promising all kinds of delights ahead of them. The silence in the room was total, the only sound the pounding of their two hearts in total unison, in complete accord with each other.
    There was no need for speech; no need for words. His hands told her she was beautiful as they touched and tantalised, smoothing, caressing, arousing, communicating perfectly the way he saw her. And his body proclaimed his need for her as it strained against hers, hard and demanding, fiercely aroused. He was awe-inspiring in his strength and the power of his passion, and yet she felt totally safe, completely at one with him.
    Because the same hunger was burning its way through her. It made her body tremble with need as Luis’s strong hands found the zip fastening of her dress, slid it right down to the base of her spine so that all she had to do was to let her hands drop and the green velvet slithered to the floor, pooling at her feet. The fine lace of her slip, the sliver of satin that was her bra followed, removed and tossed to the floor in a series of intent, unhurried movements that spoke eloquently of his powerful restraint.
    Isabelle could feel no such thing. With his mouth