Bound To A Billionaire: Protecting His Defiant Innocent (Bound to a Billionaire) / Claiming His One-Night Baby / Buying His Bride of Convenience

He couldn’t. He mustn’t.

Francesca’s lips didn’t move. Not for a long time. He felt her breathe him in and fought not to inhale. Then she did move. Just a little. A turn of her head to cover his mouth better, a gentle, tentative exploration of his lips while her fingers made a gentle, tentative exploration of his cheeks and jaw, rubbing against his beard and up to trace the contours of his ears.

He fought to hold on, fought to deny the sensation burning through him.

He might have won had he not opened his mouth to let in air and her tongue darted through his parted lips. In an instant he was filled with the sweet heat of her kiss and the fingers he’d raised to yank her hands away from him were cradling her skull as he kissed her back as deeply as a parched man drinking from a cup.

She tasted sweeter than he could have dreamed.

Her arms wrapped around his neck while his arm hooked around her waist to crush her to him. She melted into him with a breathy sigh, charging his desire like a rocket.

He roamed her curves, finding her waist, her hips, her bottom, which was round and pert and felt delectable beneath his fingers. She was delectable. Soft and womanly beyond imagination.

Rising onto her toes had the effect of lifting her dress. When he skimmed down her thigh he came to bare skin that had him sucking in a breath at its satin sheen and holding her tightly so he could devour her mouth again.

It was her response that so blew his mind. Her hunger was as acute as his own and it fed his.

He could take her now if he wanted and she would welcome him with the breathy sighs that were growing in intensity. God knew, he wanted to take her, this craving like nothing he had ever known.

His exploring hands ran up her bare thighs to find her panties and he slipped a finger under the skimpy material and almost groaned aloud to feel the hot dampness there.

She squirmed against him, one foot running up and down the length of his leg, kissing him, licking him, her teeth grazing his neck then kissing up to brush her cheeks against his beard like a purring cat. He could taste her desire in her kisses, smell it in the heat radiating off her.

Tugging the panties down her hips, he pressed the palm of his hand over the soft, downy hair and felt the gasp that flew from her throat. She pressed her pubis into him but before he could explore any further, her nails suddenly dug through his shirt and into his flesh and she collapsed into him, crying out and shuddering.

And then she stilled.

For a long, drawn out moment Felipe couldn’t find his breath. Francesca didn’t seem to be breathing either.

The only sound he heard with any clarity was the roar of blood in his ears.

It was like the room was clearing of fog. Slowly they released their hold on each other and took wary steps back.

What the hell did he think he was playing at? Had he lost his mind?

Francesca put trembling hands to her mouth, covering it as if in prayer, her eyes wide and dazed.

He felt pretty dazed himself.

He breathed out deeply.

He’d been minutes away from making love to her. There were no excuses he could make.

For the first time in his life he’d let his desire guide him and his loathing for himself tasted like salt on his tongue.

He was a thirty-six-year-old man. He knew better than this. He demanded better than to behave like this.

He should never have followed her into the suite, not when his awareness of her and the desire in his loins had been simmering since the first moment he’d set eyes on her.

‘I need to go.’

She jerked her head and took another step back. He took it as agreement.

His heart hammering, he backed away to the door and left.

* * *

Francesca put the pillow over her head to drown out the sound of the knocking on the door. She knew who it was and she did not want to see him. She didn’t want to see him ever again. She couldn’t. It was just too mortifying.

She’d rather dance naked through the streets of Caballeros with the lecherous Governor ogling her than see Felipe again.

Her cheeks scalded to remember how she’d come undone with one touch.

One touch.

Why didn’t she know that could happen? How could she have known when she hadn’t even kissed a man before?

His face. He’d been horrified.

No wonder he’d run from her suite.

And to think she’d gone into the restaurant hating him.

She’d just wanted to kiss him.

It was his smile that had done it, one unguarded curve of those gorgeous lips that had made her own lips tingle and her pulses quicken.

She’d spent almost their entire meal fantasising about the feel of his lips on hers.

Curiosity had certainly killed the cat.

She couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol, although she wished she could. It had loosened her inhibitions considerably but she’d been the one to drive the kiss, not the Tequila Sunrises.

She’d played with fire and been burnt for her trouble. She certainly wouldn’t open the door to the man who’d lit it.

The phone beside her bed rang.

She wanted to scream. Just leave me alone!

She snatched the receiver up. ‘What?’

‘You have one minute to open your door or I break it down.’

The dial tone played out before she could summon the words to answer back.

Throwing on her robe, she hurried to open the door a crack before Felipe could follow up on his threat.

He was already there.