The Virgin's Debt To Pay: The Virgin's Debt to Pay / Surrender to the Ruthless Billionaire. Louise Fuller
her way out of a paper bag, never mind a man like Luc Barbier. The very notion was ridiculous.
His mouth thinned. ‘You really expect me to believe that you fell asleep like Sleeping Beauty in the fairy tale, waiting for her prince?’
Heat rushed into her cheeks—she had been mooning about his suite like some lovelorn teenager earlier. It wasn’t like her at all. ‘I don’t believe in fairy tales,’ she said stiffly. ‘And don’t worry, I know you’re no prince.’
He put two hands on her arms now, swinging her around to face him properly. His eyes had turned to cold steel. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘I...’ Words got stuck in Nessa’s throat. She couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything but Luc’s face above hers. The sensual lines were mesmerising. ‘I didn’t mean anything.’
Except she had, she realised. She’d just articulated it badly. This man was no prince, he was a marauding sultan, or a king. Uncultivated and suave all at once. Infinitely hard but also soft, as when he’d put a hand to his horse.
His mouth twisted. ‘I might never be a prince, but you’re in no position to look down on me, the sister of a common thief who thought she could seduce her way to paying back her brother’s debt. Like I said, you could have saved a lot of conversation if you’d been waiting in my bed naked instead of playing out this elaborate charade of innocence.’
Nessa’s hand had lifted and connected with Luc’s cheek before she even realised what she’d done. Shock coursed through her system as the sting registered on her hand and Luc’s face turned from the blow. All her anger drained away instantly.
He turned back slowly, face even darker now, a livid handprint showing on his cheek. Horrified, Nessa used his name for the first time. ‘Luc, I’m so sorry. But I didn’t mean it like that, and Paddy’s not a common thief. He’s really not—’
‘Stop talking, you little hellcat, I don’t want to hear another word.’ His voice was rough.
Before Nessa could even think of uttering another word, Luc had pulled her right into him, so that her body was welded to his. All she could feel was whipcord strength and heat.
All she could see were his eyes, fathomless and like molten steel. She realised he was livid and yet she felt no fear. She only felt an intense excitement. She opened her mouth but he said, ‘Not another word.’
And then his mouth covered hers, and words were the last thing on Nessa’s mind as heat fused with white light and poured into every vein in her body to create a scorching trail of fire.
Shock rendered her helpless to Luc’s savage sensuality and her own immediately rampant response.
Luc’s arm went around her back, arching her into him even more, and his mouth began to move over hers. But this was no gentle exploration, and it left any other kisses she’d shared with boys in a far distant universe. This did not leave her cold, or unmoved. This was igniting her very soul.
It was mastery, pure and simple. And domination. And punishment. And yet despite all those things that should have had Nessa tensing and squirming to be free, she strained to be even closer, raising her arms to twine them about Luc’s neck. If she could have climbed into his skin, she would have.
She opened her mouth under his, instinctively seeking a deeper kiss, wanting to taste him with every fibre of her being. His fingers threaded through her hair, catching her head, angling it so that he could give her exactly what she wanted, but on his terms.
He consumed her, demanding nothing less than total surrender, and Nessa knew only one thing: that she wanted to surrender, with no doubt or hesitation in her mind. It was as if every moment in her life had been building up to this conflagration.
She was drowning in liquid heat and could feel it, slippery, between her legs. Luc’s mouth left hers and she heard a soft moan emanating from her mouth. He trailed kisses over her jaw and down her neck. Her head fell back, too heavy.
The only sounds in the room were harsh breathing and the thump thump of her heart. Luc’s hand was on her shirt, deftly opening the buttons. Cool air hit her bare skin and her nipples drew into tight, hard points.
The world tipped on its axis and Nessa only realised moments later that Luc had sat down on the edge of the bed, bringing her with him so that now she sat on his lap. She was dizzy, and thought that this must be how it felt to be drunk: light-headed and euphoric.
He was pushing her shirt open, and she looked at him and saw an almost feral expression on his face. He cupped one of her lace-covered breasts. Breasts that had always felt very inadequate to Nessa. But now when she looked down she could see how she perfectly filled his palm. As if she’d been made for his hands alone.
He pulled down the lace cup, baring her flesh, and she bit her lip to stop from moaning, pleading. His thumb skated over one small hard nipple and it sent electric shocks through her whole body.
He looked at her and smiled and Nessa realised that he hadn’t smiled at her once until now. And it was as devastating as she’d suspected it might be. Wicked, seductive, gorgeous and irresistible.
Lust and need cocooned them from reality, and for one wild second Nessa could almost convince herself that perhaps she was still asleep and this was all just a very vivid dream.
But she knew it wasn’t a dream, and she knew that it was very important that she stand up and stop this.
Luc’s head was dipping towards her breast and Nessa had never wanted anything more than to surrender completely to this moment, but something within her, some small sane voice, broke through. She put her hands on Luc’s shoulders and levered herself off his lap, feeling like a foal trying to stand for the first time.
Luc just looked at her as if he couldn’t quite believe she’d moved away, and Nessa realised she was half naked. She pulled at her shirt, scrambling to do up at least one or two buttons. The bare flesh of her breast chafed against the material, sensitised by his touch.
She forced out, through the clamour of her own desire, ‘I didn’t come here for this. I really didn’t.’
Luc’s body was hard and throbbed with a need to claim and possess, things he’d never felt for a woman before. Nessa was looking at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, and hair coming loose.
I didn’t come here for this. Something slid into Luc’s mind: the very rogue possibility that she had just fallen asleep while on the job. And then he dismissed it. She was playing with him and he would not be manipulated like this. He’d already exposed himself far too much. And the fact that she’d been the one to pull away, signalling she was more in control than he was, was even more exposing.
Luc forced his blood to cool, and stood up in a fluid motion. Nessa took a step back. The thought that she was stepping back from him in case he touched her again sent something dark into his gut. And something far more unwelcome: a feeling of vulnerability, something that Luc had rejected long ago. He was invulnerable.
‘Sleeping with me isn’t going to improve your, or your brother’s, situation. I told you already that I don’t play games, Nessa, so unless you’re willing to admit that we both want each other with no strings attached then get out of here.’
His voice was so cold and remote it skated over Nessa’s skin like ice. She hated his obvious cynicism, and wanted to deny his claim that she would manipulate him to gain favour for her brother, but self-preservation kicked in at the last moment. She fled, taking the basket of cleaning supplies with her.
* * *
When Nessa finally made it back to her room she closed the door behind her and rested against it. Her heart was still thumping out of time, and her whole body ached for a fulfilment she’d never needed before.
And she reeled with the knowledge that she’d almost lain back for Luc Barbier and handed him something she’d never handed anyone else. Her innocence. She’d almost tipped over the edge of allowing