The Tycoon's Secret Affair

By: Maya Banks



She sucked in her breath. Even though she knew what he wanted, the invitation still hit her squarely in the stomach. Her breasts tightened against his chest, and arousal bloomed deep.

“I’m not…” For the first time, she sounded unsure, hesitant. Not at all the decisive woman she knew herself to be.

“You’re not what?” he prompted.

“Protected,” she said, her voice nearly drowning in the sounds around them.

He tucked a finger underneath her chin and forced her to once again meet his seeking gaze. “I’ll take care of you.”

The firm promise wrapped around her more securely than his arms. For a moment she indulged in the fantasy of what it would be like to have a man such as this take care of her for the rest of her life. Then she shook her head. Such foolish notions shouldn’t disrupt the fantasy of this one night.

She rose up on tiptoe, her lips a breath away from his. “What’s your room number?”

“I’ll take you up myself.”

She shook her head, and he frowned.

“I’ll meet you there.”

His eyes narrowed for a moment as if he wasn’t sure whether to believe her or not. Then without warning, he slid a hand around her neck and curled his fingers around her nape. He pulled her to him, pressing his lips to hers.

She went liquid against him, her body sliding bonelessly downward. He hauled her against him with his free arm, anchoring her tight to prevent her fall.

He licked over her lips, pressing, demanding her to open. With a breathless gasp, she surrendered, parting her mouth so his tongue could slide inward.

Hot, moist open-mouthed kisses. He stole her breath and returned it. His teeth scraped at her lip then captured it and tugged relentlessly. Unwilling to remain a passive participant, she fired back, sucking at his tongue.

His groan echoed over her ears. Her sigh spilled into his mouth.

He finally pulled away, his breaths coming in ragged heaves. His eyes flashed dangerously, sending a shiver over her flesh.

Then he shoved a keycard into her hand. “Top floor. Suite eleven. Hurry.”

With that he turned and stalked back into the hotel, his stride eating up the floor.

She stared after him, her body humming and her mind in a million different pieces. She was completely shattered by what she’d just experienced.

“I must be insane. He’ll eat me alive.”

A low hum of heady desire buzzed through her veins. She could only hope she was right.

She turned on shaking legs and walked slowly into the hotel. It wasn’t that she was being deliberately coy by putting her mystery man off. Mystery man…She didn’t even know his name, but she’d agreed to have sex with him.

Then again, it had a certain appeal, this air of mystery. A night of fantasy. No names. No expectations. No entanglements or emotional involvement. No one would get hurt. It was, in fact, perfect.

No, she wasn’t being cute. But if she was going to go through with this, it would be on her own terms. Her dark-eyed lover wouldn’t have complete control of the situation.

With more calm than she felt, she went up to her room. Once there, she surveyed her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her hair was slightly mussed and her lips swollen. Passion. She looked as if she’d had an encounter with the very essence of passion.

The sultry temptress staring back at her wasn’t a woman she recognized, but she decided she liked this new person. She looked beautiful and confident, and excitement sparked her eyes at the thought of what waited for her in suite eleven.

After a lifetime of loneliness, of being alone, the idea of spending the night in a lover’s arms was so appealing that it was all she could do not to hurry out to the elevator.

Instead she forced herself to take steadying breaths. She stared at herself until the wildness faded from her eyes and coolness replaced it. Then she smoothed her long blond hair away from her face.

Satisfied that she had herself under control, she walked out of the bathroom to sit on the bed. She’d wait fifteen to twenty minutes before she headed up. No need to seem too eager.





Chapter Two


Piers prowled his suite, unaccustomed to the edginess that consumed him ever since he’d parted ways with the blond bombshell downstairs. He stopped his restless pacing and poured a drink from the crystal decanter on the bar, but he didn’t drink it. Instead he stared at the amber liquid then glanced at his watch for the third time.

Would she come?

He cursed his eagerness. He felt like an errant teenager sneaking out of the house to meet a girlfriend. His reaction to the woman couldn’t be explained except in terms of lust and desire.

He wanted her. Had wanted her from the moment he spotted her staring longingly through the open doorway of the hotel. He’d been mesmerized by the picture she portrayed. Long and sleek with slender legs, a narrow waist and high, firm breasts. Her hair fell like silk over her shoulders and down her back and his fingers itched to dive into the tresses and wrap them around his knuckles while he devoured her plump lips.

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