Sylvain Reynard

Then I’m glad I’m your first.”

She tightened her grip on his hand. “You’re my last, Gabriel. My only.”

He moved back, surveying her appraisingly. “A goddess in green.”

His lips met hers before she could reply, his kiss firm but reverent. For a moment, at least, he didn’t move. His mouth simply pressed against hers.

Julia reached up to wind her arms around his neck.

Gabriel’s lips whispered across hers, pecking the corners of her mouth. He kissed and retreated, kissed and retreated, almost as if he were tasting a fine wine and wished to savor it. Their bodies pressed together. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me, too.”

I suppose you’re wondering why I asked you to my office.” Gabriel traced a single finger down her neck.

She turned and kissed the edge of his hand.

“Take down your hair,” he whispered.

Julia obliged, deconstructing her hairstyle. She withdrew pin after pin, placing them on his desk.

Gabriel grew impatient.

“Let me,” he said gruffly. He brushed her hands aside and drew long, searching fingers through her waves of chestnut hair.

She closed her eyes.

It was an intimate thing, she thought, to have Gabriel touch her hair. She sighed contently.

“Were all these items really necessary?” Gabriel grumbled, holding up what he thought was the last pin.

“Yes.” Julia patted her hair, finding a few stray pins he had missed. “They were.”

“The effect was stunning.” He combed her hair with his hands so it cascaded about her face. He touched her neck again. “The door is locked.”

His eyes met hers as his hand dropped to the zipper of her dress. He eased it down her back, never breaking eye contact.

The green material gathered at her hips and she leaned forward, exposing her full cleavage, as she tugged the dress off.

“Allow me.” Gabriel knelt, bringing her hand to his shoulder for balance. He helped her step out of the dress and placed it carefully on the edge of the large, heavy desk.

“You’ll ruin your suit,” Julia murmured, her hand still on his shoulder.

“Fuck the suit.” Gabriel sat back on his heels and stared.

Julia wore an elegant black satin-and-lace basque, paired with gossamer underwear. Garters and black silk stockings encased her legs. On her feet she wore the high Christian Louboutin heels Gabriel almost worshipped.

A low oath escaped his lips. “I was not expecting this.”

“Surprise.” Julia felt conspicuous, although Gabriel’s reaction was more than she had hoped. She withdrew her hand and placed it at her hip. “I was thinking we’d celebrate back at the hotel.”

“I’m not waiting. Hang the interviews.” Gabriel broke eye contact so his gaze could roam her body. Julia’s breasts were very full and almost overflowing the top of the basque. But the garment flattened her stomach and accentuated her small waist. In high heels, her legs lengthened and she was a great deal taller.

Gabriel’s hungry perusal made her feel powerful.

She preened, pushing her hair back from her face.

“I’m speechless.” He touched the curve of her hip, stroking the skin just above her stocking. “You’re a siren. Will you pose for me? So I can photograph you?”

“Not now.” She leaned forward and grabbed his tie, pulling him toward her. Her lips hovered over his. “You know, it’s been six weeks since Clare was born, and I was cleared by Dr. Rubio before we left. So . . .”