She was burning up, her skin damp with perspiration as she tossed and turned restlessly against the cotton sheets.
When she couldn’t take it anymore, she lunged from the bed, padded to the French doors and flung them open, thinking that the ocean breeze would cool her down. But the night air was sultry, wrapping around her heated body like a lover’s embrace.
Closing her eyes, she stood on the balcony bathed in moonlight as her blood pumped hotly through her veins.
Suddenly there was a low, rough knock at the door.
She spun around, her heart vaulting into her throat.
She didn’t have to wonder who it was.
Her body had been calling out for him ever since she’d abruptly ended their dance, which had been nothing more than a prelude to seduction. She’d known it, and so had he.
And now he’d come for her.
Before she could stop herself—not that she would have—Zandra rushed across the room, unlocked the door with trembling fingers and swung it open.
Remy loomed in the doorway, his shoulders nearly spanning the opening, his eyes blazing fiercely in the shadows. His chest and feet were bare and he wore dark pajama bottoms, as if he’d rolled right out of bed and snuck to her room like a thief in the night—or a man on a mission.
They stared at each other.
No words were spoken as Remy stepped forward, cupping her face between his big hands and crushing his mouth to hers. Gasping with shocked pleasure, Zandra threw her arms around his neck and pressed her swollen breasts against his hard, powerful chest.
His hungry mouth devoured hers in a deep, scorchingly erotic kiss that left her aching with need as wetness dripped from her *. She whimpered his name, her hips writhing feverishly against the huge erection bulging from his pants.
Parting her lips, he plunged his hot, silky tongue into her mouth. She captured it and sucked it hard, making him groan hoarsely.
He backed her into the room and kicked the door shut behind him, then lifted her effortlessly into his arms and carried her over to the nearest piece of furniture, a sturdy bamboo table.
When he set her down and reached for the lamp, she whispered self-consciously, “No, leave it off.”
“Keep it on,” he growled savagely. “I need to see you.”
The light clicked on, spreading a warm glow around the luxurious room.
With a feral gleam in his dark eyes, Remy reached down and ripped her nightshirt in two. She shivered as the flimsy halves fell away from her body, leaving her naked and exposed to his fiercely ravenous gaze.
“I knew it,” he rasped. “You are so beautiful. So fucking beautiful.”
Looking like a starved man who’d been invited to a lavish smorgasbord, he reverently touched her knees, then ran his callused hands up her thighs and past her flat stomach before he cupped her plump breasts, pushing them together.
She trembled hard, watching through heavy-lidded eyes as he lowered his mouth to her erect nipples. They were unbearably sensitive, exploding with sensation as he blew lightly over them, then sucked them into his mouth.
She groaned and arched backward as his tongue flicked over one nipple then the other, shooting spasms of pleasure from her areolas down to her *.
Through the intoxicating haze of passion and lust suffusing her brain, a tiny voice reminded her that this was Remy, her childhood friend and tormenter—the last man on earth she should become intimate with.
But she didn’t care. What he was doing to her felt so damn good, she couldn’t have stopped him if a hurricane was tearing the hotel apart.
He stroked his hands down the front of her body, caressing her heated skin. She arched into his touch, gasping when he slipped one hand between her legs and palmed her throbbing mound. Watching her face intently, he used his blunt fingers to spread her labia while his thumb rubbed the tight nub of her clit.