Her heart was beating fast. She ached to be touched more by him, feel skin-on-skin contact, have him close and closer still. “Yes.” She nodded. “That’s what I want.”

He kissed her again, holding her wrists for a moment before wrapping his arms around her.

She sagged against him, pressing herself to his chest. This was better than their frantic tryst on the desk, this was more about savouring the moment, enjoying each other… There was no rush.

They had all night.

Eventually James broke the kiss and stood. He held out his hand. “Come on, this way.”

She took his hand and followed him from the lounge and into the hallway. She was a little apprehensive, but not nervous—she was sure she was doing the right thing, and she’d been able to think of little else for hours.

He walked up the stairs, and she stayed close, holding his hand tightly. They went into the first room on the left, which was in darkness except for a faint glow through the drawn curtains from the moonlight.

Megan let her eyes focus for a few seconds then made out a large bed—white duvet neat and straight—in the centre of the room, and a dressing table and wardrobe against the wall.

James pulled off his undone shirt and laid it over a straight-backed chair.

Megan toed off her shoes and let her feet sink into the soft carpet. As he came to stand next to her she became aware of how much shorter than him she was.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, smoothing his hand along her arm.

“Thank you,” she whispered. Her breaths were a little fast. He was beautiful too, his torso muscular and chiselled.

He smiled, just a little, then kissed her again, his tongue curling with hers. He took hold of the zip at the back of her dress and drew it down.

The material loosened around Megan’s body. Her stomach was a tight knot of longing.

The sound of the zipper was loud for a moment then stopped when he’d undone the dress. Very gently he placed his hands on her shoulders, over the slim straps, then pushed them wide.

The dress slid over her chest, hips and pooled on the floor, its silky lining speeding its journey.

James pulled back and looked at her. “Heaven help me,” he muttered thickly.

The adoration in his voice washed over Megan and by his words she guessed he liked the black balcony bra and lacy thong she was wearing. She reached up and touched his hair, stroking a strand that had fallen onto his forehead. They were so close, one small move from her and they’d be kissing again.

He slipped his finger beneath her bra strap, swept it downward, tickling over her flesh.

Megan pressed her lips to his face, just to the right of his mouth and let his stubble scratch lightly against her.