Tessa Radley - The Saxon Brides

She gave a little gasp, and her body softened into his.

Instantly Joshua relinquished her hand and wound his arm around her shoulders pulling her closer. She was slim and soft in the curve of his arms. He bent his head, nuzzled the smooth skin under her jaw, and heard the sharp, telling little exhalation.

“You smell wonderful,” he murmured.

“Thank you.” She sounded breathless. “You smell pretty good yourself.” She gave an awkward laugh. “Goodness, we should start a mutual olfactory admiration society.”

He doubted that her sense of smell ruled her life as it did his. While he didn’t have his younger brother Heath’s highly developed ability, he’d grown up at Saxon’s Folly immersed in wine, and smelling was as natural to him as breathing.

He nuzzled again. “You smell of dewy nights and dark, exotic spices.” He heard her breathing quicken. This time he pressed a soft kiss under her jaw. She quivered. “So soft,” he murmured throatily.

“Oh.” A sigh escaped her.

Joshua took that as license to nibble gently, and she arched in his arms, her response unequivocal.

His hands explored the bare skin of her back. Under his fingertips he could feel the electric tension tightening within her. But she didn’t push him away. By the time he slid his lips across hers she was ready, her lush lips parted.

She tasted fresh and cool. Of mint and the hint of lemon in the Perrier. A powerful surge of hunger swarmed through him. Instead of tasting carefully, proceeding slowly, he yanked her close and devoured her mouth.

A wild sound escaped the back of her throat. Then her hands were raking up the corded muscles of his back, across his shoulders, her touch sparking a rush of energy that pooled in his groin.

His feet gave up all pretence of dancing. Behind his head her fingers rubbed against the exposed skin of his neck, before burying themselves in his hair. He groaned into her mouth. His tongue swept across the soft, slick inside of her bottom lip, tangled with the sleek wetness of her tongue, then plundered the back of her mouth.

Her response was instant and arousing. Her body tensed against his, and desire ratcheted up inside him until he felt that his skin was too tight. Restlessly, he ground his hips against her, acutely conscious of the blatant hardness of his erection straining for freedom. She moved, too, equally unsettled, and Joshua felt arousal kick up to the next level, his hormones telling his head there was only one place where this could end.

His bed.

For a moment he fought the savage urge. Too soon. He’d never bedded a woman he didn’t know enough about to be relatively certain he’d still like her in the morning.

“God.” He lifted his head, his breathing heavy.

“I should go.” But she didn’t sound very sure.

“Why?” he demanded, and his voice sounded hoarse to his own ears.

“Because it would be the sensible thing to do. And I’m always sensible.” But her breathlessness belied her claim.

“Haven’t you ever wanted to do something wild? Something totally out of character? Something that might change the rest of your life?” He murmured the inflammatory words against her lips, knowing that was what he was doing now. Allowing his body to rule his brain and letting go with this stranger was the kind of risk he, who liked his odds very carefully calculated, never took.

“Yes, I did that tonight.”

He raised his head a little, trying to read the glitter in her eyes behind the mask, in the pale silver light of the crescent moon overhead.

“By coming here at all,” she said cryptically.

“Come with me.” Joshua reached for her hand and pulled her toward the house, leading her down a dark passage, through the empty hallway to a set of stairs that descended to his suite.

She baulked. “We can’t go down there.”

“Hush. Trust me.”

She trailed behind him as he hurried down the stairs and past the living room that he shared with Roland.

“I suppose there are etchings you want to show me?” But beneath the bite there was breathlessness.

“No etchings.” Joshua veered left toward his destination. “Come here, babe.” He didn’t bother to switch on the lights before he took her in his arms.

“But—”

He kissed her objections away. And when her hands ran over his back, Joshua groaned out aloud. He couldn’t wait for this. Couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman this much. He tore off his mask. The expensive Italian-styled dinner jacket landed on the floor, and Joshua yanked the snaps of the dress shirt open.

The touch of her fingertips on the bare skin of his chest was electric. Joshua bit back a curse of pure ecstasy. She drew her palms across his pectorals.

Joshua shuddered.

He drove his tongue deep into her mouth and shifted his hips, knowing she must be aware of how incredibly turned on he was. But she didn’t flinch. Instead her fingers teased, exploring the ridges of his abdominal muscles, brushing his lower belly.

“Woman, you’re killing me,” he said hoarsely.

She gave a little throaty laugh.

That was enough. His senses on fire, Joshua drew her to the bed and came down on the cover beside her. In the darkness he cupped her head in his hands, her hair soft and silky between his fingers. The ties of the mask tangled in his fingers and he tugged them loose. He kissed her cheeks where the mask had rested … her neck … and moved his lips to where he guessed the V-neckline of her outrageous dress would be.

She wasn’t laughing now. Her body arched beneath him, and the swell of her breasts brushed his arm.

“Alice.”

She stilled.

Then his hand closed over the fabric-draped softness of her breast. He heard her gasp out loud.

“Ah, Alice, this is going to be good. I promise.” Impatiently, he peeled the dress down over her shoulders—and discovered she wore no bra. He bent his head to taste the skin he’d exposed.

“Joshua.”

The call jarred Joshua back to reality an instant before the bedroom door burst open. He rolled in front of her, shielding her from the intruder.

Dim light backdropped the figure who stood in the doorway. Joshua snarled, “Dammit, Heath. Can’t you knock?”

The bedside light clicked on. Brightness spilled into every corner of the room, hurting Alyssa’s eyes.

But she didn’t blink. She couldn’t take her eyes off the half-naked man on the bed beside her. The high, slanting cheekbones and black eyes were all too familiar. She’d studied photos of him, wondering how someone so utterly beautifully and flagrantly male could be such an arrogant swine.

Joshua Saxon.

No wonder his voice had sounded so damn familiar. She pulled her knees to her chest and yanked the bedcover over her nakedness, then buried her head in her hands, humiliation crawling through her.

“What do you want, Heath?” There was an edge to Joshua’s voice as he sat up and addressed his brother.

Through the cracks between her fingers, Alyssa peered toward the door. Heath Saxon. The younger, rakehell brother. He’d been featured in Wine Watch as a winemaker to watch. In the photo accompanying the profile, he’d been smiling, tanned. Now he hovered indecisively in the doorway. Until, a flush burning into his pasty skin, he said awkwardly, “Sorry, Joshua, but there’s been an accident.”

Joshua’s shoulders bunched under the open shirt. “An accident?”

Alyssa’s hand dropped to cover his.

“Roland’s been hurt,” Heath said. “We need to go to the hospital.”

Roland hurt? Alyssa was off the bed in an instant, pulling up the neckline of her dress.

“Roland’s my brother,” Joshua said to Alyssa. Then his focus returned to his brother. “What kind of accident?”