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She looked into his smoky eyes and felt a spurt of power. In a flash she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, limpet-style.

‘Now what?’ she breathed.

‘You tell me.’ Tense, strong, he looked right at her.

Energy arced along her veins. Being this close to him, feeling him locked on her, sent scorching need through her system—urgently seeking escape. Seeking satisfaction. Recklessly driven, she lifted her chin and stole the last space between them. His groan slammed into her as his lips instantly clung. Suddenly she was pressed back, his arm cushioning her from the granite behind her. She trembled as he took control—not just deepening the kiss but devouring her. Yes. She threaded her fingers through his hair so he couldn’t pull away and wrapped her legs around his waist to make sure. He groaned again and tightened his other hand on her hip, pressing in, pinning her between him and the rock. She wasn’t sure which was harder. She quivered at the grinding contact of his rigid abs and even more rigid cock. She was so hot it was a wonder the entire ocean didn’t immediately evaporate.

His arms tightened as his lips trailed fire across her jaw, the column of her neck and back to her hungry mouth when she moaned and breathed his name. His ardent grip was so strong she couldn’t escape—she never wanted to. She locked her ankles behind his back and swept her fingertips across his rough jaw, holding him every bit as tightly. He dragged his mouth down the side of her neck and she pushed closer against him, desperate to rub against his magnificently huge, hard body. Her whole body was ignited. Craving. He grunted and returned to plunder her mouth. His tongue lashed against hers—his hunger too big to be contained. She tried to match it. Desperate to ease the ache, to unleash it all, she rocked, her blood like quicksilver as he incited a powerful storm of sheer, unbridled lust within her. Until he tore his mouth from hers.

‘Stop,’ he growled. ‘Stop.’

She froze. He hoisted her to sit on the ledge and peeled her arms from around his neck. She dropped her legs from his waist and dragged in several deep breaths. Too shocked to speak. Devastated that he’d ended that so abruptly—so easily—when she’d been so out of control.

He raised his arm high in the air, his hand spread wide. A stop sign. He then leapt up onto the rocks and grabbed his phone. Texting furiously.

Shit. That’s right. There was someone out there filming them. This wasn’t real, this was a publicity stunt—but she was turned on for real. She didn’t want him to stop. Which he knew. Which was mortifying. Tilly launched to her feet.

‘Tilly—’

Nope. Not stopping to chat. Never that.

Chapter Nine

Of course she ran away. Alex glared as Tilly sprinted up the stairs with the agility of a mountain goat, her wet hair whipping against her gleaming creamy skin like a scarlet sash. Gritting his teeth, he lifted his phone.

‘Send all photos to me and scrub any footage completely,’ he ordered gruffly. ‘I want it gone.’

He wasn’t having any video of Tilly in existence. Not like that. None. The AI-generated rubbish was bad enough, but this would be…

Fuuuuuuck.

He tossed his phone to wrap a towel around his waist. Huffed out a sharp breath. Swore again. He’d just come within an inch of slamming himself into her. He’d almost had unprotected sex in full view of a camera lens. Both those things were beyond comprehension. Never before had he come anywhere near close to either with anyone else. Ever.

What was wrong with him? What had just happened? How had all of that happened? His skin sizzled. His whole body ached. And he was harder than freaking granite.

He heard a distant boat engine and knew he had his private pool back to himself, but he was never going to be able to return to his personal paradise without remembering the moment when Tilly Brookes had smoked every brain cell he had with a single damned kiss.

So much more than a kiss.

Who knew she was such a passion bomb? He did. Or at least, he’d always wondered. Always tried not to think about it. And there was the problem. Alex finally made himself face the truth he’d never wanted to admit to himself and certainly not her. The fact was he wanted Tilly more than he’d ever wanted any other woman. It was insane.

He huffed another breath and stalked up the stone stairs. It was because she’d always been out of bounds, right? The devil in him wanting the forbidden. Well, the genie was out of the bloody bottle now. But it was for them both and that was the intriguing thing morphing into an irresistible temptation that whispered to him now.

She’d kissed him first. She’d sparked to life. Having his arms full of turned-on Tilly had been the most arousing minute of his life. But he couldn’t chase after her. Didn’t trust himself not to do something reckless. Her brittle perfection and quiet complicity in her own imprisonment had annoyed the hell out of him, but Tilly unleashed was terrifying. He went to the bathroom in his gym, not daring to go to the top floor, where they had his and hers suites.

Hell.

In the shower he flicked the lever so iced water pelted his overheated skin, but his raging erection refused to subside despite the frigid conditions. Gnawing want eroded his self-control. Maybe he’d just accrued some pent-up sexual energy? He’d played up the parties to Tilly because she was aggravatingly judgemental, but in truth work was a lot and his private life now was a lot quieter than it once had been. Sure, he still dated, just not as often. So he’d been celibate a few months and maybe what had happened was just a random response to having a woman so close.

The sinking feeling in his gut called him out on the pathetic lie. Unfettered, unashamed, beautiful Tilly had responded to his touch with writhing abandon. Not even in the wildest dreams that he’d blanked for so long had he ever imagined she would erupt like that in his arms. If she were in this shower with him now, he would soap and stroke every part of her—he would drop to his knees and taste every delectable inch. He gripped his painfully hard cock as he saw her in his mind’s eye—that pearly skin and fiery challenge, as he heard her panting, eager sighs. But the sighs were his own as his body bucked, his orgasm hitting with a single damn rub. He braced against the wall, breathing hard under the freezing jet of water, desperate to slap sense back into his brain.

Six years of suppression hadn’t worked. She’d stunned him the first moment he’d met her, but he’d hated the betrayal her arrival represented. It had been easy to focus on anger over attraction—especially when she’d changed. Only now he accepted that the fundamental problem remained. The chemistry between them was too strong. As they were locked into a fake marriage for a few weeks, surely they had to deal with it. It was dangerous to leave an unexploded ordinance about, but if they had a controlled explosion they could limit the fall-out with no significant destruction. No hurt feelings. They just needed to get it out of their systems.

She’d been as shocked. As horrified. As hot. But whether timid Tilly would ever be willing to face it was the question.

He went to the kitchen, glad he’d asked Carlos to fill the fridge with a bunch of ready-to-eat, Tilly-friendly snacks. He picked out a lamb salad and added extra tzatziki. He’d go back to the gym after and burn the hell out of his muscles. Clutching his plate in one hand, he opened the laptop he’d left on the counter and finally remembered to send his top analyst a request for information about Francesco Sandrelli. Then he skimmed the news sites, wincing at the coverage on their stunning quickie wedding. A chime sounded and he saw Rafa had sent through a link to a drop box of photos. As he scrolled through the pictures his core temperature soared. He didn’t select any from when they were in the water going at it—they would never be seen by anyone else. He would consider only those ‘pretend’ moments on the blanket, but even those photos showed a little too much of Tilly for his comfort.

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned. The woman herself—showered, refreshed and wary. A light summer dress clung to her curves and her damp hair tumbled about her shoulders in a red wave. He itched to plough his hands through her tresses, hold her close and kiss her again.