The Millionaire's Cinderella. Anne Marie Winston
turning her face into his neck, away from his questioning gaze. “Yes.”
She sensed he would treat her with consideration and care, with skill. And he did, with a light stroke on one nipple, then the other. She melted against him and closed her eyes, immersed herself in his touch, the ripples of water flowing over her.
The night wrapped around her like a comforting mantle, as comforting as Rio’s embrace, his sleek touch. Something inside Joanna broke away. Her caution, her concerns. All that mattered was him, the feelings he stirred within her, the undeniable passion, the yearning that was so foreign yet so welcome.
As if she’d totally detached herself from the lonely, celibate shell her life had been to this point, she laid her palm on his hand and guided it downward. He paused at her belly immediately below her navel, brushing his knuckles back and forth in a slow, torturous rhythm.
“Tell me what you want, Joanna,” he whispered.
She didn’t want to think, or to consider what was about to happen. She wanted him, only him, and to be the woman that he desired. “Touch me.”
He sifted his fingertips through the tangle of curls between her thighs, then on to her susceptible flesh with a gentle yet unyielding caress. “Like this?”
“Yes.” The word hissed out on the wings of a broken breath.
His murmured sensual words danced around in her head as the bubbles danced over her body. His fingertip made gentle passes over places too long ignored then slipped deep inside her, slowly, deliberately.
The steam rose around her as Rio’s touch swathed her in a heavy fog of desire. The pressure began to mount beneath his insistent strokes. So did the need to resist for fear of completely losing herself. But no matter how hard she tried to fight it, prolong its arrival, the climax came with the force of a tempest, sucking her breath from her lungs, her thoughts from her brain. Her pulse throbbed in her ears, her body trembled. She felt weak, boneless, satisfied.
Rio held her through the aftermath for a time, still toying with the curls with gentle fingers. She wanted to tell him to touch her again, and again. She wanted to take him inside her, all of him, to know what it felt like to be totally consumed by a man who held such sensual power over her.
“Are you okay?” he whispered.
Was she okay? She was more than okay. More than ready to continue. She could only nod, her cheek rubbing against the warm damp skin at his neck.
“Good. Maybe now you’ll sleep.”
With that, he tipped her face up, brushed a kiss over her lips then worked his way from behind her. “Stay as long as you’d like.”
When he left the tub, Joanna could only stare at him, stare at his sculpted buttocks, his damp hair resting on his shoulders, his strong spine glistening with moisture. And when he turned, the evidence that he was still aroused definitely caught her attention before he slipped on his jeans without bothering to dry off.
Joanna felt self-conscious, alone and naked, cold and confused. She crossed one arm over her breasts and searched beneath the water’s surface for her suit. Not finding it, she hoisted herself out of the tub and grabbed for the towel to secure it around her.
“Where are you going?” she asked through chattering teeth as she sat on the bench near the tub, unable to stand any longer.
“To bed.”
“But…I…you…” She sounded like a stammering idiot, a desperate woman.
“I what?”
“I thought maybe we might finish this.”
He slipped his shirt over his head. “Not tonight, Joanna. This was for you.” He knelt and fished her suit from the water, squeezed it out, then tossed it at her. It hit the wooden deck at her feet with a soggy thump.
She snatched up the suit and stood, fighting to control her anger. “Oh, so you were doing me a favor, were you? Poor desperate Joanna Blake who hasn’t been with a man in years.”
He inclined his head. “You haven’t?”
Nothing like giving herself away. “No, I haven’t, and I don’t need your favors.” She shot a pointed look below his belt. “So is this some kind of test of your strength, or do you plan to take care of that yourself?”
He ate up the space between them in two long strides, clasped her hand and pressed her palm against his erection. “I plan for you to take care of this but only when you’re ready.”
He took a step back and Joanna rolled her eyes to the night sky. “We’re back to that again? I did what you wanted. I said your name, several times. What do I have to do next, recite poetry?”
“You have to learn to trust me. You have to believe that I’m worthy enough to make love to you in every way.”
“And I have no say in the matter? We’ll make love when you say the time’s right?”
“We’ll make love when you come to me without my coercion. And not a minute before.”
He clicked off the jets and lights in the tub then turned and sprinted down the steps with Gabby following at his heels. The sound of the back door closing jarred Joanna out of her shock. Suddenly she felt to-the-marrow cold, and alone.
She also felt determined. If Rio Madrid wanted to play games, then bully for him. She didn’t have to play along. If he was waiting for her to come to him, then he definitely had another think coming.
She didn’t need him, and that’s what she kept telling herself all through the night.
Two long, restless nights, Joanna thought as she readied for her next patient the following Monday afternoon. One equally chaotic day. When she turned on the water in the exam room’s stainless sink, a flashback assailed her—blue lights, skilled hands, naked flesh, absolute paradise.
She fumbled with the blood pressure cuff, dropped the chart and knocked her coffee cup over onto the counter. Luckily it flipped sideways into the sink, saving the carpet from a good dousing, saving Joanna from a fit of oaths directed at Rio Madrid.
She definitely had the good doctor to thank for her distraction as well as the heat flowing through her body on a stream of remembrance. She needed to stop thinking about what had happened Saturday night, as well as what hadn’t happened. So far, that’s about all she’d thought of since the moment she’d awakened at dawn, alone.
Joanna supposed she should be thankful Rio hadn’t changed his mind and come to her. But she wasn’t. As unwise as it seemed, she would have welcomed him into her bed, into her body without a second thought, but probably not without regret.
Yes, she should be very thankful he’d stayed away, avoided her yesterday as well. Instead, she was frustrated and needy and still wanted him as much as she had two nights before. As much as she had that first night when he’d kissed her.
“Knock, knock,” Allison Cartwright called from the open door. “Do you have a few minutes?”
Joanna pulled a few paper towels from the metal dispenser and wiped the water from her hands, wishing she could as easily wipe Rio from her mind. “Come on in. My next patient’s not due in for another ten minutes or so. What’s up?”
Allison strode into the exam room, her auburn hair swinging back and forth where it fell over her shoulders. After dropping her small frame into the nearby chair, she let out a strained breath and stretched out her long legs. “My feet are starting to swell and my hips are expanding to dangerous proportions. I have to pee every fifteen minutes because I think junior here is sitting on my bladder. But that’s okay because in about six weeks, he’ll be here and I’ll forgive him everything.”
Joanna grinned. “Are you still convinced it’s a boy?”
Allison gave her round belly a pat. “You betcha. He’s so active that I can’t help but believe he’s training