She was about to be made love to in broad daylight, by a man who was her legal husband, but whom she didn’t really know.

Was that what made the prospect so exciting? Was it simply a version of the sleeping with a stranger fantasy? Or was it something else, a place where Natalie didn’t really want to go for a second time in her life?

Concentrate on the sex, she told herself as Mike lowered her feet to the fluffy white rug that stretched along beside the bed. Don’t think about the man, or the future. Think about the here and now. Focus on the pleasure of his touch. The feel of his male body. And what it can do for you.

A lot, she thought with a shiver when his hands ran lightly up and down her arms.

‘You can’t be cold.’

‘No,’ she admitted tautly. ‘Please don’t talk, Mike.’

His eyebrows lifted. ‘You don’t like to talk during sex?’

‘No.’

‘Mmm. You really are my type of girl.’

Secretly, Natalie suspected she wasn’t, but she was going to try to be. For what was the point of being anything else? She might have made Mike want her in a physical sense today, but he didn’t want her in any other way.

‘Got any objections to my undressing you?’ he asked abruptly.

Did she?

What would his type of girl do?

She recalled Alanna having told her that one of Mike’s girlfriends had been an exotic dancer.

Certainly no shy violet when it came to exposing her body. Natalie’s stomach contracted as she whirled to boldly present her back to him.

I can do this, she told herself. I was once the mistress of a spy!

But the moment he started running the zip down her back and the tightly boned bodice was released, her hands grabbed at the gaping top, pressing it back against her swollen breasts.

But he would have none of her modesty, removing her hands quite forcibly and pushing her dress down till it pooled at her feet, leaving her standing there in nothing but a lacy white G-string and open-toed ivory high heels.

Natalie didn’t know if she felt excited, or embarrassed. Whatever, her face was flaming.

‘That’s better,’ he muttered, his hands zeroing in on her breasts, his outstretched palms rotating over her nipples.

‘Oh,’ Natalie gasped.

She could not remember her nipples ever feeling so big, or so tight. They kept lengthening and stiffening, two exquisite peaks of sensations that began screaming for more.

He gave them more, taking them quite firmly between his thumbs and forefingers, twisting then tugging till they were burning. Till she was burning.

When he abandoned her breasts to scoop her up into his arms once more, Natalie was beyond worrying about anything.