Crave Page 63

“Is that right?” he asked lazily, his hands sweeping down the sides of her hips to cup her buttocks. “Well, I’d say you also have my wholehearted approval. Especially the way your gorgeous arse looks in these tight jeans.”

Tessa smiled, burying her face against the strong, warm column of his neck and inhaling deeply. “Mmm, you smell even better than usual. Must be the added touch of the leather.”

He kissed her temple, his hand keeping her head pressed to his shoulder. “Would you like the butler to unpack for you, or would you prefer to do it yourself?”

She looked up at him in surprise. “He would do that? Actually hang my clothes up and put my shoes away? Not to mention unpacking all of my, ah, more personal stuff. I think I’d rather do it myself, actually.”

He grinned, giving her a playful chuck on the chin. “To answer your question - yes, Tyson would certainly be happy to perform that task for you. You’ll begin to see as we travel together that each of our hotels offers this sort of private butler or concierge service for occupants of the larger suites. You’ll need to get used to them doing things for you and letting yourself be pampered. It’s one of the many ways I intend to spoil you.”

“Okay. It’s just - well, it will definitely take some getting used to. I never thought I’d let a complete stranger, and a male one at that, unpack my underwear for me,” she admitted shyly.

“Ah, well, that I understand. You could consider packing all of your lacy bits in a separate bag from now on, and simply instruct the butler not to touch that one.” His lips caressed the soft spot behind her ear. “In fact, I’d probably prefer that. Hell if I want another man to touch your lingerie.”

Ian lifted his head and took her firmly by the hand. “Come, let me give you the grand tour. I gave Tyson instructions to bring up an afternoon tea service in a few minutes, so we don’t have much time.”

As he showed her around the grand suite, she belatedly noticed the beautiful vases of roses arranged in several different locations - the showy red ones on the coffee table; the exotic bouquet of sterling silver blooms in the dining room; a gorgeous arrangement of rich apricot blossoms filled the master bedroom with their fragrance. But the one that caught and held her attention was the cut crystal vase filled with two dozen pink-tipped white roses - the exact same type of flowers she’d received for the past two Valentine’s Days.

Tessa’s hand was trembling a little as she touched the delicate buds reverently. “It was you,” she whispered with a sense of wonder. “You were the one who sent those bouquets, weren’t you?”

Ian had walked up behind her unnoticed until now, when his arms slipped around her waist and he pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. “I confess,” he admitted with a chuckle. “I was in fact your secret Valentine, my love. The first time - I happened to overhear that dimwit Shelby make some unthinking comment about you being the only one of the team to not have flowers. And since it would have been a crime for the most beautiful woman in San Francisco to be without flowers on Valentine’s Day, I made sure that such a terrible occurrence never happened.” He paused for a moment or two before murmuring in her ear, “I hope that they pleased you, Tessa. That you liked them.”

She turned abruptly, flinging herself against him, and pressing a kiss to his lips. “I loved them,” she told him tearfully, her eyes brimming over with emotion at his confession. “No one had ever given me anything so beautiful before. I treasured those roses, Ian, kept them on my desk for days after they had withered up and died. And I - I wondered both times if you could have possibly been the person who sent them, but I told myself how silly that idea was, that you didn’t even notice me, and definitely wouldn’t have gone to all that trouble or expense.”

His arms tightened about her, his thumb brushing away the tear that glistened on the tip of her eyelashes. “I think you know by now exactly how much I did notice you, darling,” he growled. “And the roses were a mere consolation gift. What I really wanted to do was whisk you off to Paris or Rome for a romantic weekend, to give you diamonds and rubies, and anything else your heart desired. But since I couldn’t do any of those things, I at least wanted to make sure you had beautiful flowers for Valentine’s Day – even if you never knew who sent them to you.”

“Ian.” She caressed his cheek tenderly. “That was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me. And definitely the most romantic. Peter - well, as you know, we never had that sort of relationship.”

“I know.” He took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. “Now, let’s head back into the other room, shall we? Our tea should be arriving any minute now.”

“Okay. And - thank you, Ian. For all of the beautiful flowers,” she added. “Both these and the ones you sent the past two years.”

“You’re welcome, darling. And the weekend is just beginning, you know,” he told her with a rather wicked grin. “I have a whole string of surprises planned for you, my love.”

Having skipped lunch, they both ate hungrily of the sumptuous afternoon tea service that Tyson delivered to their room. Tessa couldn’t quite stifle a yawn, however, despite the twin jolts of caffeine and sugar her system had just received.

“Sleepy, are we?” asked Ian in amusement.

She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. It’s just - well, we didn’t get much sleep last night what with -”

“I know,” he interrupted. “I hope I wasn’t too - that it wasn’t…”

“No.” She shook her head firmly. “You were perfect. It was perfect. I needed you just as badly, Ian.”

Tessa had been waiting for him in the library when he’d returned home just after ten o’clock the previous evening. By now she was becoming used to the hungry, almost desperate way he made love to her, the blatant carnality of his kisses and caresses, the all-consuming manner in which he possessed her body. But when he’d strode boldly into the library last night, she’d been left breathless and unable to even think with the fierce, primal way he’d taken her right there, bent over the arm of the leather sofa. He’d tossed off his suit jacket and unzipped his trousers before yanking the hem of her robe up past her waist, and literally ripping the fragile silk and lace panties from her body. He’d surged into her with one powerful thrust, wrenching a cry from her throat and leaving her helpless to do anything but willingly submit to his domination of her body. They had both climaxed within minutes, the entire encounter having taken place without either of them uttering a single word. She had been shaken to the core at such a display of raw, undisguised passion on his part, and astonished that her body could so readily respond to his without even the slightest amount of foreplay.

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