26 Hours in Paris (7 page)

“What scent?” Kat crossed her legs at the ankles and let her feet dangle. She'd decided on a day, a single day when she wouldn't think and analyze, and she wouldn't give up any more time. Her hand skimmed over his shoulder and played at his neck. She tangled her fingers in the dark hair curling above his collar, holding tight to the moment.

“Where did that beautiful mind of yours drift off to?” Marko shook his head, his gaze searching her eyes. “You've been nodding about the impending almond blossoms and the end of winter, but you haven't heard a word.”

Almond blossoms. The end of winter, the beginning of spring. “No. I heard.” Almond blooms were known to smell heavenly. “I'm sure it'll be beautiful.”

“So you'll come?” The tight lines on his forehead faded, and a smile broke across his face.

“Where?” She fought to rewind the conversation, but it simply wasn't in the memory files of her mind.

“Home with me.”

Damn. His words slammed her psyche and had her lurching forward for balance. Her vision blurred, and moisture beaded beneath the brim of the beret. She looked down at her lap and let out a slow breath. “I can't.”

“You can,” he retorted, tapping her bum for her to stand. “You just won't.”

H
ow had Kat missed the whole conversation? Why had she allowed her mind to be lulled into her negative place and let the day of pure bliss slip between her fingers?

Actually, her fingers were crushed in Marko's grip. His fierce hold and quick gait confused her. Where had the accommodating man gone?

“Keep up,” he commanded.

“If I walk any faster, I'll be jogging,” she said, trying in vain to make her fingers squeeze his hand back. His strength prevented her hand from working, but it also made her legs work overtime. “What's gotten into you?”

“Realization of the truth,” he said, very matter-of-factly, and he continued to pull her along, refusing to slow his pace.

“Okay,” she panted. “Can you please explain?”

“You've agreed to put yourself in my hands for the day. Like a total sap, I accepted you setting an agenda.” He glanced down at her, and she glimpsed a brief display of disappointment, or maybe it was hurt, in his eyes. “So, we're doing the freaking tourist attractions—first—and we're getting them out of the way as soon as possible. Fair warning,
bella
. I'm invoking the right to my two hours when I please. Attractions now, then I'm taking you home. Tonight, you're mine. All mine.”

Marko had put his foot down and wasn't letting her get away with evasion tactics. He'd outlined what would come, and she had no doubt it would happen exactly like that.

Sensual thrills flared over her skin. She breathed deep, concentrating on the exploding sensations running through every nerve ending. Pissed and determined, Marko tossed any possibility of avoidance away. She'd agreed to the day. He called the shots.

“During my two hours, I'm going to claim every inch of your body and make you crave me as much as I hunger for you,” he whispered against her ear. “In addition, I'll take my reward and color your ass so red that you won't be able to sit on an eight-hour flight without the feel of my mark burning through you.”

He halted, made her stop mid-stride, and held her hard against his side while he raised his free hand in the air to summon the car. She released the breath she'd been holding and closed her eyes, remaining in the sizzling state of euphoric bliss. For one damn day, for a little over twenty hours, she'd indulge in all her fantasies.

Jean-Luc pulled the Mercedes to the curb.

“Happy?” Marko asked, yanking on the door handle and stepping aside for her to enter the vehicle.

She managed a small nod, and lowered her body into the car. It was the first time Marko's steady demeanor had cracked. The first time he hadn't waited for her approval. She'd always felt safe and secure in his care in a way she never felt with another man, but his dominant behavior set her body and soul on fire. It was as if sharing the air around him boosted her confidence in her desire for him, yet allowed her to admit her needs as a woman.

Pulling the door shut, Marko settled beside her and reached for her seat belt. He buckled it in place. “The scenic route, Jean-Luc. Miss Kathryn has a need to see Paris.”

“
Oui, monsieur
.”

Hot air rushed through the vents, and the car pulled away from the curb. Within seconds, the pyramid structure marking the entrance to the Louvre loomed before them.

“I'm sure you're well read on the sights,” he said, not bothering to elaborate. The amicable tour guide was gone. With his cellular phone balanced on his right knee, he wrapped his left arm around her and fit her against his side. “I need to see to a few arrangements.”

“Okay,” she whispered, pretending to study the scenery while struggling with the anticipation ricocheting through her body. Moisture pooled between her thighs, and she squirmed in her seat to calm the fluttering in her core. Her body was on full alert and awaiting his instruction. She tugged at the hem of her coat and tucked the wool material around her knees.

“Don't bother with modesty, sweetheart. Undo the two lower buttons on your coat,” he said, typing on the touchscreen.

Her fingers fumbled with the large carved shell buttons, but she managed the simple task without glancing down. Transfixed with his profile, she was taken aback at the ease with which he issued his commands.

“Good,” he added, his attention remaining on his phone as he moved his arm and rested his palm on the inside of her right knee. “Raise your dress to your hips.”

Her heart hammered in her chest. The privacy divider was down. There was nothing preventing the driver from observing her every move in the mirror. Swallowing her hesitation, she scraped her teeth over her lower lip and stifled her objection. Marko didn't appear willing to discuss any other options. She lifted her butt and inched the silk over her hips.

“Very pretty.” Marko hit the send button on his phone and returned it to a pocket inside his jacket.

Le paquet, s'il vous plait
. The message flashed on the screen on the console to Jean-Luc's right.

“
Oui, monsieur,”
the driver replied, producing a tidy brown package once he'd stopped at a traffic light.

Marko lifted his hand and spread his fingers, as if ready to catch a baseball. Jean-Luc's green gaze flashed in the mirror, and then the driver tossed the parcel over his shoulder. Marko plucked it from the air. “
Merci.”

Jean-Luc merely dipped his chin, returned his gaze to the road, and drove into the intersection.

Marko peeled a gold sticker from the paper bag and unfolded the neat wrapping. He looked inside the package, then unsnapped his seat belt and turned to face Kat. His dark gaze met hers and warned her not to speak.

“I can't wait to take you over my knee for being so difficult and disrespectful.”

Kat's inner muscles clenched, and the dampness at her center intensified.

“The sweet scent of your excitement, and the glistening moisture between your legs shows me your need for limits and reprimands.” He slid a finger up the folds of her sex and rounded her swollen nub. “I'm tempted to take you in the car again, but you haven't earned the right for your pleasure yet.”

Earned it? She deserved it. She needed it.

His thumb found her clit, while he pushed a thick finger into her channel. She dropped her head against the leather seat and closed her eyes.

“No,” he scolded, removing his finger. “Open your eyes. The Arc de Triomphe is on our right. You're not missing a single landmark during this ride. Look out the window.”

Kat raised her protesting lids, and watched the heavy traffic swirl around the impressive structure set in the middle of the busy roundabout. The neoclassical structure was beautiful, imposing, and absolutely breathtaking, but the Arc de Triomphe wasn't her priority at the moment. The need to connect with Marko was. Desire burned so hot, it consumed her body and mind.

“L'Arc sits at the top of the Champs-Élysées, connecting the old Paris and the Paris of today.” He slid two fingers inside her, as if filling her, driving her to a physical plateau, and then leaving her hanging on the agonizing edge were part of the tour. He didn't pause in his speech. “As twelve avenues converge at this point, it is an unrivaled hub that proudly depicts the battles of the French citizens. The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier is also there . . . illuminated during the night.”

She gasped as his finger stroked the sensitive nerves inside her. His words filtered through her mind, but the distraction of her body's buzz made it impossible to grasp those words. She heard, but couldn't listen. She stared, but couldn't see. The pressure built between her legs, and she arched off the seat and against his hand. He pumped deeper, stroked stronger, and the backdrop of the city blurred in her view.

Her muscles clenched around his fingers and a ripple of excitement traveled through her.

* * *

“Don't come,
bella
,” Marko instructed, withdrawing his fingers but continuing the teasing of her clit. “You wanted to see the Eiffel Tower. That is our destination.”

“Marko,” she pleaded.

He cupped the curve of her beautiful mound, and leaned close to taste her neck. “I like your cheeks so pink. I like seeing you frustrated and battling for a climax.”

“Not fair,” she said, wriggling against his hold. “Why can't I come?”

“Because,” he replied, fighting his own desire to feel her loss of control in his hands, “I also want you on edge. I want to see you fidget and burn until I choose to let you soar.”

“Please,” she insisted.

“Hearing you beg may convince me.” Dark curls glistened with her juices and enticed him even more than her soft pants. He caressed her clit, rubbing erotic circles around the tight bundle of nerves and rolling it between his fingertips. Watching her eyes study him and her pupils go wide, he eventually angled his hand and rubbed the sweet spot buried deep inside her heat.

Kat's lips parted and she gulped audibly at the air. She was close. A few more strokes and she'd shatter. He lifted his hand and traced her cream over her swollen lips. He waited until her tongue swept over his fingertip and she closed her lips around it. The warmth of her mouth fueled his control and determination.

“You will come when I decide. Hold your climax.”

Her soft tongue stopped moving and her teeth nipped at his finger. “Marko.”

His cock jerked as she repeated his name. His name as her plea pleased him, drove his need to claim her on the spot, but he wouldn't. He wasn't changing his agenda because his erection pulsed so hard it made his ears burn.

The plan. He was sticking to the damn plan.

He reached for the package and retrieved her gift.

Panties. Black lace panties. He held them in his hand and leaned over her to keep her from seeing what he held. Lifting her right foot, he stretched the lace over her boot and let it rest at the ankle. He then fit the lace over the left boot. Hooking his fingers on either side, he slowly slid the lace up her legs, tenderly gliding over the silky stockings on his way, and stopping at the top of her thighs.

“Thank you,” she said, relief evident in her voice. “I was wondering how I'd climb the tower without them.”

“Lift,” he said, taking the remote control butterfly from the package and placing it against the lace.

With a hand on his back, she tried to stretch and watch over his shoulders, but he easily pinned her smaller frame back against the seat. He waited.

Her hips rose, and he fit the butterfly over her mound and arranged the lace at her hips. With the sensation of the vibe against her core, her fingers tugged on his jacket as she lowered herself back to the seat.

“Wow. I've never had one of these,” she said, curling over his back and breathing loud between his shoulders. Her desire sheened through the lace, and he exhaled with pleasure.

“A first. Good,” he said, empowered by her excitement. He reached into his coat pocket and felt for the remote. “Honestly, I'm not ready to share the most beautiful view in Paris. You need panties for the ride to the top of the tower. However, you need to be reminded of what will happen when the tour is over.” He tapped the on button and the vibrator hummed softly.

Kat's dark lashes dropped to the top of her cheeks, and her teeth scraped over her lower lip. “Oh, my . . . it's . . . you can't do . . .”

“I will,” he announced, with a satisfied and teasing smile. He turned the vibe off, and rested his palm on the side of her face. “Rosy pink. I can't get enough of your flush.”

“You're really not playing fair, Monsieur Renard.”

“I'm not playing at all.”

Her breath caught. Marko had no time for games. He wanted her. He needed her. And there was nothing that was going to stop him from having her. His life was moving too fast to wait any longer. He needed to discuss the career choices and life-changing options he was chasing. The possibilities would ease her reluctance. He'd find a way to bridge the miles between them. Little did she know that his international itinerary had been booked the previous Monday. He had a ticket and reservations to spend a week in New York. The moment he'd accepted one of the new positions, he'd intended to make Kat his and bring her back into his life.

“I'll do anything to get you where I want—where you belong—sweetheart.”

He touched the remote control and her chocolate-colored eyes went darker. Color crawled back up her neck, and he traced the heat with his hand. Kat fell against the seat as the buzz intensified.

She sighed softly, her beautiful mouth dropped, and her eyes glazed with passion. The woman was absolute heaven. He couldn't deny it, and more than anything, he wanted his name on her lips as pleasure reigned through her body.

Bringing her to the edge and then making her stop wreaked havoc on his control. Every nerve ending in his body was strung so tight, he'd explode into a thousand pieces if he didn't touch her.

The car came to a stop, and Marko briskly spoke to Jean-Luc. She'd begged Marko to let her come, rather loudly, and the partition had been down the whole time. There was no way the driver had missed her whimpers and moans, but Marko wanted her completely to himself. He needed her.

Exiting the vehicle, Jean-Luc engaged the locks and strolled behind the car.

Marko removed the remote control from his pocket, chose a medium setting, and placed it on the seat. With measured effort, he shrugged out of his coat and jacket, then loosened the knot of his tie.

“That's it,
bella
. Ride the ecstasy,” he said, folding his body on the floorboard between her legs. He pushed her knees apart and kissed up the length of her thighs, all the while admiring the sensual unraveling of the woman before him.