“Aren’t you finished yet?” Guy appeared in the doorway. He came over to her, lifting a thick hank of her hair, burying his face in its fragrant silkiness. “Magnificent,” he murmured. “I have to have you now, madam wife. Get into bed.”

Petra gave him a mischievous look over her shoulder. “But I’m not quite finished in here. I have one more personal matter to attend to.”

“You have three minutes,” he said.

Petra was now too anxious for the evening’s play to begin to indulge her sense of mischief by prolonging the time she needed to complete her ablutions. She did what she had to and went back into the bedroom, unfastening the tie of her robe.

“No, wait.” Guy crossed the room swiftly, drawing her closer to the fire before untying the robe himself, pushing it off her shoulders and tossing it over an ottoman. “Let me look at you.” He stepped back, his hungry eyes running over her as she stood naked in the firelight. “Turn around.”

She revolved slowly, feeling the heat of his gaze almost as powerfully as the flickering fire behind her.

“Get into bed. I won’t be long.” His voice was low and husky, as if something had caught in his throat.

Petra put one knee up on the bed as she pulled back the covers, her movements very slow, turning her body slowly, accentuating the lines and curves of her nakedness until his breath came fast and, muttering an oath, Guy strode into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

Petra laughed softly. She loved to see the evidence of her power to arouse him. She slid between the crisp white sheets, pulled up the thick quilted coverlet and lay wide-eyed waiting for him. When he came back, wonderfully naked, his erect penis rising from the dark mass of hair at the base of his belly, she propped herself on her elbows and gazed greedily at him. Firelight threw a flickering glow over his skin, illuminating the ripple of muscle beneath, as he walked to the bed, his dark eyes beacons of lust.

That night he made love to her fiercely, using her body as if to satisfy some primal need of his own, and Petra responded as fiercely, her own lust deeply aroused by the simple, almost savage purity of her lover’s need. And when it was over she fell back against the pillows, her body sated, her limbs weak, her breath coming fast, sweat beading on her forehead.

Guy lay, one arm flung above his head, until his own breathing had slowed. Languidly he moved his other hand to rest on her belly, his fingers sliding down to twine in the damp dark curls. “I didn’t hurt you?”

“No,” she said, turning her face into his shoulder, licking the sweat from his skin. “Quite the opposite.”

He patted the curve of her hip. “I don’t usually lose myself so completely,” he murmured.