Anne Winston - The Millionaire's Cinderella

“No. It was Burlington. He adopted me, but I used my own father’s name in med school. I had it legally changed back after the colonel’s estate was settled.”

“I’m sorry that you had to live like that.”

“Well, at least I got all this in the deal.” He made a sweeping gesture around the area. “He left all his money to me, his ranch, which I sold the first chance I got. I didn’t want to hang on to those memories.”

Again he had thrown her off balance with his revelations. He was more an enigma now than ever.

The strap on Joanna’s swimsuit slipped off her shoulder. When she started to push it up, he said, “Leave it.”

For some reason she did, even though the falling strap pulled the neckline of the suit lower, exposing the top of her breast.

“Get in, Joanna,” he commanded in a deep, drugging voice. “I won’t bite. Much.” He topped off the request with a wicked grin.

Joanna suspected it would take more energy than she owned to resist his pull. But she didn’t have the desire to fight him any longer, at least at the moment. She could do this, keep her distance, remain focused and maintain a firm grip on reality.

Tossing her towel aside, she slipped into the welcoming water across from Rio. Her fair skin was cloaked in a translucent blue because of the tinted light. But Rio was dark and dangerous, the proverbial calm before the storm.

Tipping her head back, Joanna closed her eyes and tried to block out Rio’s image.

A hand caught her wrist, prompting her eyes to snap open and her pulse to quicken. Slowly he pulled her forward then turned her until she came to rest between his thighs, her back to his chest.

“Relax,” he whispered. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Oh, but he could, and quite sufficiently, at least from an emotional perspective. She couldn’t think about that now, or worry about it, because her attention was drawn to something against her lower back. She didn’t have to guess what that something was.

He rested his lips against her bare shoulder then worked his way up her neck. She shuddered at the sensations, trembled when he slipped the other strap down. He streaked his knuckles back and forth over the rise of her breasts. She wanted him to keep going, ached for him to keep going, but he didn’t.

“Take it off,” he murmured. “You’ll feel better.”

Abandoning good sense, Joanna slipped her arms out of the straps and tugged the bodice down, baring her breasts completely to his eyes, his hands. Yet he still didn’t touch her, at least not intimately.

He did wrap his arms around her shoulders, his hands clasped together above her breasts. Joanna marveled at the contrasting colors of their skin—hers almost alabaster white, his the color of warm chocolate. Marveled at her sudden lack of inhibition, her indescribable need for his touch.

Her legs floated upward and so, it seemed, did her whole being. She waited for Rio to remove her suit completely but when he didn’t, she worked it down and away and watched as it twisted into the current.

“Now that’s more like it,” he said. “Don’t you feel a sense of freedom?”

She did, and she also felt light-headed, uncontrolled and needy.

She looked back at him. His golden earring twinkled, his eyes a near match in color. His strong, sharp features delineated by the glow of the light bouncing from the water’s surface mesmerized her, as did his lips outlined by the shadow of evening whiskers playing over his jaw.

He watched her for a long moment, waited for something but she wasn’t sure what. He made no move to touch her intimately yet his eyes never left hers.

Unable to stand the suspense any longer, she palmed his jaw and brought his mouth to hers. He kissed her deeply, deliberately, with a steady glide of his tongue in a slow, seductive foray, back and forth until she lost all sense of time or place or purpose. A slight moan climbed up her throat and she tried to stop its progress. Honestly she did, but she couldn’t. She also couldn’t halt the cravings, the way he held her prisoner with his capable mouth. She felt the glide of his erection against her back as he pulled her closer to him, his hips lifting on the current. It was the most erotic moment she had ever experienced, knowing how close she was to giving him everything, finally acknowledging a sensual facet of herself that she had long ago learned to deny.

Yet when his hand drifted to her breast, Joanna tensed, a knee-jerk reaction she couldn’t control.

He broke the kiss and rubbed his thumb over her lip. “Do you want this, Joanna?”

She tucked her head beneath his chin, turning her face into his neck, away from his questioning gaze. “Yes.”

She sensed he would treat her with consideration and care, with skill. And he did, with a light stroke on one nipple, then the other. She melted against him and closed her eyes, immersed herself in his touch, the ripples of water flowing over her.

The night wrapped around her like a comforting mantle, as comforting as Rio’s embrace, his sleek touch. Something inside Joanna broke away. Her caution, her concerns. All that mattered was him, the feelings he stirred within her, the undeniable passion, the yearning that was so foreign yet so welcome.

As if she’d totally detached herself from the lonely, celibate shell her life had been to this point, she laid her palm on his hand and guided it downward. He paused at her belly immediately below her navel, brushing his knuckles back and forth in a slow, torturous rhythm.

“Tell me what you want, Joanna,” he whispered.

She didn’t want to think, or to consider what was about to happen. She wanted him, only him, and to be the woman that he desired. “Touch me.”

He sifted his fingertips through the tangle of curls between her thighs, then on to her susceptible flesh with a gentle yet unyielding caress. “Like this?”

“Yes.” The word hissed out on the wings of a broken breath.

His murmured sensual words danced around in her head as the bubbles danced over her body. His fingertip made gentle passes over places too long ignored then slipped deep inside her, slowly, deliberately.

The steam rose around her as Rio’s touch swathed her in a heavy fog of desire. The pressure began to mount beneath his insistent strokes. So did the need to resist for fear of completely losing herself. But no matter how hard she tried to fight it, prolong its arrival, the climax came with the force of a tempest, sucking her breath from her lungs, her thoughts from her brain. Her pulse throbbed in her ears, her body trembled. She felt weak, boneless, satisfied.

Rio held her through the aftermath for a time, still toying with the curls with gentle fingers. She wanted to tell him to touch her again, and again. She wanted to take him inside her, all of him, to know what it felt like to be totally consumed by a man who held such sensual power over her.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

Was she okay? She was more than okay. More than ready to continue. She could only nod, her cheek rubbing against the warm damp skin at his neck.

“Good. Maybe now you’ll sleep.”

With that, he tipped her face up, brushed a kiss over her lips then worked his way from behind her. “Stay as long as you’d like.”

When he left the tub, Joanna could only stare at him, stare at his sculpted buttocks, his damp hair resting on his shoulders, his strong spine glistening with moisture. And when he turned, the evidence that he was still aroused definitely caught her attention before he slipped on his jeans without bothering to dry off.

Joanna felt self-conscious, alone and naked, cold and confused. She crossed one arm over her breasts and searched beneath the water’s surface for her suit. Not finding it, she hoisted herself out of the tub and grabbed for the towel to secure it around her.