‘Sleeping beauty, you really should wake up.’

Alina faintly heard Tomas’ voice from somewhere in the room. Reluctantly, she rolled onto her back and stretched those aching muscles that had positively over indulged last night beyond her wildest dreams.

Wild orgasmic sex, she remembered conversations with friends previously. How they complained of how boring their sexual partners were. It had not really been conversations. She had stayed quiet, whilst they’d graphically illustrated their wishes. Now she understood, they’d wanted what her husband had given her last night…wild orgasmic sex. That’s what her friends had desired.

Alina blushed as her eyes travelled to Tomas standing near the window, his back to the filtering sun seeping through into the room. Their eyes locked and held. He looked so adorable in a white sweater, white cotton trousers and the sleeves of his baby blue jersey knotted around his neck. He exuded sexual aura with those high cheek bones and that arrogant, pointed, nose that looked so aristocratic...what else from King Casiraghi and those delectable lips. There was not a single part of her body that had not known those luscious lips last night.

Wielding power and authority came so naturally to him and how he’d clinically demonstrated that last night, holding her naked body beneath him, taunting her mercilessly. A fierce heat gathered between her thighs just thinking about how she’d shamelessly begged him to enter her.

A smile curved Tomas’ face as he watched the rims of her emerald eyes darken with desire. He noticed the progressive bright wings of colour in her cheeks, how it contrasted with the layers of red hair spread over his pillow when she tried to draw closer to him, but he was not there. The sheets had dropped a little. The creamy swells of her breasts were just visible. He felt himself harden just thinking about how much pleasure his tongue had, had laving over those pert nipples that had responded so enthusiastically to his ministrations last night. He had been watching her sleep whilst he sipped on his third cup of coffee, waiting for her to awake. He longed to go to her but he restrained himself.

‘Tomas ...’ her pleading voice was a soft whisper.

‘I’m not coming to bed cara. Tuscany awaits you.’ He groaned silently, feeling the torturous ache in his loins. It was going to be one long, hard, rough day for Tomas, no pun intended.

‘Good morning,’ she mumbled.

Tomas placed his coffee cup on the dresser. Seeing the look of disappointment in her eyes, he walked to the bed. The mattress sunk as his weight lowered onto it. Alina swallowed, held her breath, as Tomas’ palm closed over the soft milky white flesh of her breast. Her nipple instantly stood erect, bruising against his thumb. She groaned softly, wishing for his lips to take over from what his thumb was erotically doing. Instead Tomas lifted her hand to his mouth. He turned her palm up so he could press a kiss to her soft skin.

‘Good morning cara,’ he dipped his head, and kissed her indulgently. Her hands tightened around his neck, holding him to her, silently begging for him to climb beneath the sheets and join her naked body.

‘We must leave soon,’ Tomas gently removed her hands and stood up. ‘Join me for breakfast,’ he walked out of the bedroom.

‘You are driving?’ Alina asked a tad disappointed. She had hoped Tomas would have a driver, so he could sit in the back seat with her, hold her hand, point out places of interest…kiss her occasionally. He laughed as he settled her into the passenger seat and walked to the driver’s seat.

‘I am not a good driver?’ Tomas enquired.

‘You are,’ she acknowledged.

‘Stop sulking cara.’

Alina had not spoken a word to him, since she went downstairs to join him for breakfast, which they ate in continued silence. He was enjoying his meal. She was too afraid to talk or look at him, lest he read the desire in her eyes again.

‘I’m not,’ she denied.

Tomas leaned over and kissed her thoroughly. ‘We have tonight, hmm and the rest of our lives to make love, unless you will extend our honeymoon.’

Yes, yes, yes. The rest of our lives, oh yes please.

‘I can’t___,’ she wrung her fingers, ‘the restaurant.’

‘Now put on a smile,’ he instructed.

Alina psyched up all the energy she could muster and brought a smile to her face, even if it was a half smile.

‘That’s better,’ Tomas chuckled. ‘You look very beautiful cara,’ he admired her blue and yellow cotton sun dress, one from the collection he had bought for her. It was already quite warm as they drove out of Milan. Alina decided to sit back and enjoy the scenery. Italy was one of her most favourite countries in the world, ranging from its snow capped mountains to white sandy beaches.

Tuscany was undoubtedly a beautiful region, a popular tourist destination. The famous towns of Siena, Florence, Lucca and Arezzo boasted the most romantic and picturesque scenery. Alina hoped they would see a lot of Florence. She loved the food, its artistic feel and its classic architecture.

Tomas was a pleasant companion. He knew his country well. As he drove, he pointed out places of interest, historical sites. Occasionally he would touch her hand and point to something. Alina would feel a thrill of excitement shoot through her body at his mere touch.

Tomas smiled proudly when Alina related to him on her previous trip to Florence, how hospitable the folk were, and how she loved chatting to the older women who had received her with friendly opened arms when she had asked to learn their secrets of combining authentic unique flavours to produce complex Italian cuisine.

Alina loved every second of their leisurely drive through the beautiful Tuscan landscape. She wished it would never end. Tomas had stopped a few times, so they could stretch, enjoy the scenery and have a cool drink.
Couldn’t they live here forever?
When Tomas stopped in front of the giant castle gates of a famously exclusive winery, Alina could not contain her excitement.

‘Oh Tomas!’ She unconsciously placed her hand on his knee. ‘I can’t believe you brought me to Chianti,’ she exclaimed enthusiastically.

Tomas smiled, watching the almost euphoric excitement brightening up her face. She did not even know when his hand closed over hers, or when his fingers laced with hers as she rambled on.

‘I love the Chianti village. I have read of the amazing secret ingredients they use, and their handicrafts. I love their red wine too. It is the best in the whole world. I serve them in the restaurant. I also read this winery allows you to taste their secretly blended extra virgin olive oil. I can’t believe ___.’

She finally stopped when Tomas’ tongue was doing erotic things to her fingers. When did he take her hand? She did not remember him reaching out to her.

‘The elation on your face when you speak of cooking and of food is always so much more interesting than me actually indulging in food, tesoro,’ he murmured.

She smiled shyly. ‘Thank you for bringing me here,’ she mumbled. She knew the exclusive winery required advanced booking, yet Tomas was able to get her into it without much effort.

‘The Chianti Classico will be a highlight for you cara. We will be wine tasting. You will get to see the wine cantina and the secret cellars rumoured to hold age old vintage wines, not open to the public and then there will be another surprise for you,’ he grinned.

‘Oh what is it, tell me,’ she demanded.

‘Be patient tesoro,’ he laughed, before he helped her out the car.

Alina was floating in seventh heaven. She was indulging in  private wine tasting by the manufacturer of the finest Italian red wines; the famous and very expensive Riserva label at the Castello dei Rampolla winery. She was given a tour of the owner’s personal cellar. He allowed her to sample the flagship products. She delighted in its ruby red texture and rich fruity aroma. Her taste buds swirled acrobatically when she was offered a taste of the estate’s brand new offering of extra virgin olive oil. Alina dunked a chunk of bread into the olive oil and bit into it. She closed her eyes savouring the taste appreciatively.

‘You’re like a baby in the candy store,’ the vintner smiled.

Alina laughed, dabbing her fingers on his tea towel. ‘That was delicious,’ she nodded.

The vintner seemed to be particularly enthralled with the attractive young English rose, who displayed quite a penchant to all things Italian, including the rich billionaire she was on honeymoon with. He could understand his countryman’s fascination with the young lady. Her fiery red hair was ravishing and she had the most mesmerizing green eyes he’d ever seen and her curvaceous body was made to worship with a man’s lips.

Tomas observed his wife with avid fascination. She was happy, laughing, carefree, having so much fun. She had not shown this enthusiasm for the designer clothes and jewelry in the boutique store they’d visited yesterday. Tomas was just not pleased with the way the vintner was blatantly undressing his wife with his disgusting and offensive eyes.

As if sensing the change in Tomas’ mood, Alina’s eyes flew to Tomas. He was casually resting his back against the brick wall in the shade. She smiled at him adoringly. Her spontaneous smile undid him. He held his breath and gazed at his beautiful wife.

‘Come here,’ she instructed.

Tomas slowly made his way to her, not taking his eyes off her. When he got to Alina, they gazed into each other’s eyes as if they were not in a public place, as if they were the only two people on planet earth.

‘Have a taste,’ she dipped a tiny piece of the bread into the olive oil and fed it to Tomas. His hand closed over her fingers. He did not only bite into the bread. His tongue licked the oil that dripped onto her finger.

‘Delicious,’ Tomas murmured, his eyes holding hers. Alina knew he was not talking about the bread or oil. ‘Now for your surprise cara mia,’ he bent his head and in a show of possession, burnished her lips with a searing kiss. Her breath held a hint of the fruity wines she’d been sampling.

‘Where’s my surprise?’ she pulled away looking around to find a hint.

‘We go inside,’ he smiled, draping his hand around her waist. ‘Grazie,’ Tomas nodded to the vintner, as he guided Alina away.

‘II mio piacere…my pleasure,’ the vintner bowed, his eyes smiling at Alina.

Alina was more than curious as Tomas led her indoors. They walked into a room that resembled a television studio, with lots of cameras and a make shift kitchen. The studio definitely had an audience of enthusiastic chefs and would be chefs. What astounded Alina was the celebrity chef that stood before the audience.

‘Oh my God!’ Alina’s hand flew to her mouth. She turned around and almost knocked into Tomas. He quickly gripped her elbows.
‘It’s Pepe Bianco,’ she whispered hysterically.

‘I know,’ Tomas grinned.

‘I have all his DVD’s. He is like the most amazing chef in the world. ‘Oh, thank you Tomas. Thank you, thank you, thank you,’ she hugged him to near death.

‘And at last, my special guest chef has arrived. Please give a warm welcome, ladies and gentleman to Mrs. Alina Casiraghi.’

‘What! ___I am his guest chef?’ Alina looked at Tomas questioningly. He wanted to respond, but the applause was deafening. They were captivated by the stunning red head, the extremely attractive and wealthy man next to her and the name Casiraghi held celebrity status in Italy.

‘Your surprise, tesoro,’ Tomas murmured.

‘I___ don’t know what to say.’

Tomas laughed. ‘I think they,’ he nodded to the audience, ‘want to see the guest chef in action.’

‘Signora Casiraghi,’ Pepe walked to Alina and took her hands in his. ‘Welcome,’ he smiled encouragingly.

‘Signor Bianco, I am honored to meet you,’ she smiled shyly.
Pepe Bianco was the famous Italian chef whose innovative recipes were trending all over the world. Watching his videos, had inspired Alina’s menus.

‘Ah, we are friends si? You call me Pepe. The honour is mine, to make delicious food with the beautiful bride of my good friend,’ he extended his arms to Tomas.

‘Giuseppe,’ Tomas greeted him with a fierce hug. It was like they were long lost brothers or something.

‘We grew up together here in Tuscany,’ Tomas smiled, when he saw the way his wife was gazing at him.

‘He was not a good friend,’ Pepe stated with a thick accent. ‘He always got all the pretty girls and now I am more jealous that he married the most pretty girl.’

Alina laughed softly. Reflexively, her hand reached for Tomas’.

‘So, what you make for our lovely audience,’ Pepe laughed. He waved, leadingly, to the audience, they applauded again enthusiastically. ‘Remember this is being taped. It will flight next week all over Europe and the USA,’ he warned rather immodestly.

Alina walked, still holding onto Tomas’ hand to inspect the ingredients on display. There was a variety of fresh vegetables already prep'd for the pot; carrots, celery, tomato, onion, garlic, leeks, red and green peppers, Cannellini beans, other leafy vegetables and a tray contained delicious looking Italian sausages.

Alina turned to Tomas. ‘Tell me what you would like,’ she urged.

‘We are having consultation, ladies and gentlemen,’ Pepe announced to the audience to roars of laughter.

Tomas smiled. ‘I used to love ribollita, when I was young,’ Tomas reflected. ‘It’s been very long since I had some.’

Alina stared at Tomas in amazement. Ribollita was considered “peasant” food. Its high carbohydrate content was staple food for the poverty stricken. Ribollita had a soup like texture made with lots of vegetables, stale bread and meat was added if available.

‘We’re going to make ribollita polenta,’ Alina declared into Pepe’s microphone. There was spontaneous approval from the audience. This was the working class people. They knew of poverty. They shared Tomas’ love for the simple, yet delicious meal. Alina always held the opinion that good food did not need to be sophisticated.

‘Thank you Tomas. I will take over your beautiful wife, for the next twenty minutes,’ Pepe pointed to a VIP chair in the front row, whilst Alina washed her hands with some bottled water and donned the chef’s apron and head gear.

Pepe clipped a wireless microphone to Alina’s apron. In a calming manner, he pointed to the three cameras, indicating the red light, showing which camera was live when trained on her.

A roaring wood fire oven was awaiting them. Alina smiled as she spoke into the microphone, informing the audience what she was making and the ingredients she would be adding to make her delicious ribollita dish. Very soon she forgot about Tomas, the cameras and Pepe. She was having a robust interaction with her audience, telling them how best to combine specific ingredients, to acquire the maximum flavour.
Her knowledge was amazing she was speaking of the added natural benefits of certain spices. She related a story of how a young lady bewitched her lover, with the same potions of secret spices, when she prepared him a meal. Alina had the audience in stitches when she teasingly added that, that was how she got Tomas to the altar.
Never mind that I did not get to the altar.

Alina was surprised when she’d finished cooking the meal and only then realized that, she had been the primary cook and Pepe was actually playing the supportive role. She laughed when he threw his hands in the air. He had announced that she was his guest chef.

‘You’ve stolen my show. They love you,’ he grinned.

‘I believe the proof is in the eating,’ she smiled.

‘Okay, let’s do justice then,’ Pepe warmed his hands expectantly.

Alina poured a generous portion into a bowl, and just when Pepe though he was the beneficiary, she walked to her husband with it and handed him some cutlery. Pepe raised an eyebrow, placed his hands on his hips mockingly.

‘And I thought I was the celebrity who gets the posh treatment,’ Pepe sulked.

‘Sorry,’ Alina grinned.
Tomas shrugged his shoulders apologetically, but did not refuse his wife’s thoughtful gesture. Too impatient to wait, Pepe helped himself from the pot. He added more into disposable bowls and offered to members of the audience.

Alina waited with baited breath. She bit on her lower lips, patiently waiting for Tomas to comment. He seemed to be in no hurry. He gulped down a few spoons, bit into the succulent sausage, savoured the many spicy ingredients and continued to devour the meal.

‘Tomas?’ she protested.

‘Ah yes, you want me to comment,’ he laughed teasingly. Tomas stood up. He fed her a spoonful and smiled. She did not want to taste. She wanted to hear his opinion.

‘Tell me how it tastes,’ she demanded with the soup still in her mouth.

‘It is delicious, cara,’ he kissed her lips, ‘better than I ever tasted when I was a boy. I mean it sincerely.’

‘Really?’ Pride filled her. This was the best praise, counted more than that of Pepe, what’s his name. ‘Thank you,’ she hugged him. She was really becoming bold and territorial with her affection.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, I think the judges have spoken,’ Pepe pointed to the audiences eating and nodding in agreement that it was a delicious meal. Signora Casiraghi,’ he bowed to Alina, ‘perhaps when I do my next show in London, you will join me again,’ he invited.

‘Thank you,’ Alina smiled politely.

‘You are an excellent chef Alina,’ Tomas murmured, draping his arm around her.

She looked up at Tomas. He so rarely used her name, only when he was being very serious about something. She had to admit only to herself, that she simply adored it, when he spoke those romantic endearments. It was always music to her ears…a symphony actually.

‘Thank you Tomas,’ she just had to kiss him, even if it was just a perfunctionary brush of the lips.

So can I drag you away from the kitchen? I wish to take you into the village and always the ladies favourite, the craft shops,’ he smiled.

‘Shopping, oh yes please,’ she enthused. ‘I have to get gifts for Emily and Caroline and everybody at the restaurant.’

Ah yes, every woman loves shopping.

Tomas drove into the village. There were quaint little craft shops nearby each other. Alina lost herself in the beautiful village shops. There was so much to see and so much to buy. She had a tough time making decisions. So engrossed was she in her shopping, she forgot Tomas next to her as she looked at prices and items.

‘There you go cara,’ Tomas murmured in her ear, handing her a wad of notes. She looked up in surprise.

‘No thank you,’ her eyes clashed with his. ‘I have enough,’ her shoulder brushed his as she walked away.

‘I am your husband,’ his fingers circled her wrist in a vice grip, annoyed that she was refusing his money.

What was wrong with him? He judged her if she took his money and he was annoyed with her if she did not. She was damned if she did and damned if she did not. Alina glared at Tomas. Didn’t he insultingly hurl abuse at her the night he took her virginity, claiming she had attempted to use her body for favours. Well she was an emancipated woman. She did not need his money.
Well except for the marriage and the restaurant bit.

‘I am aware you are my husband,’ she hissed, jerking her hand free. ‘Stop breathing down my neck.’ She stormed off to the other end of the store leaving Tomas standing there. Alina knew she was behaving like a spoilt child, but it still hurt her every time she thought of that night when she’d willingly given herself to him, not for any other reason, but because she got lost in the euphoria of his lovemaking. He’d made her feel special. His undivided attention on her, his touches, his caresses, the way he’d made love with her, yet with one word, he had annihilated all her beautiful memories by calling her a ‘whore’. How could he have so callously misjudged her motive?

Alina busied herself buying her gifts and souvenirs. Some fifteen minutes later, she searched for Tomas. He had an arm full of packets and he was carrying a huge stuffed toy. She marched towards him angrily, more angry because he had not followed her earlier.

‘Don’t think you can bribe me with that ugly stuffed __thing,’ she accused, yet secretly she thought, its pure white, fluffy texture was most adorable.

‘It’s not for you,’ he looked disappointed. ‘I thought Emelia would like it,’ he looked at it now with critical eyes.

‘Oh.’

Alina wanted to kick herself. She cringed silently. How could she have been so insensitive and…presumptuous?

‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled contritely.

‘I will just throw the “ugly thing” away,’ he looked mortified. He was reaching towards the bin.

‘Tomas no! It’s not ugly.’

‘But you said ___.’

‘I’m sorry. I lied. It’s is very beautiful. Can you forgive me? She draped her arms around his neck, feeling helpless at the forlorn expression on his face.

‘Si, if you kiss me, I will forgive you,’ he bartered.

Alina groaned, for stupidly falling for his puppy dog expression. She should have known better, that he would seize and exploit every opportunity presented to him. Yet she pulled his head down, and obediently complied with his rogue demand.

‘Emily will love it,’ she smiled sincerely, running her fingers caressingly over the fury toy.

‘Are you sure?’ he looked skeptical. ‘I don’t want to give her an “ugly stuffed thing.”’

‘Please___promise me you will never ever repeat that again,’ Alina begged.

Tomas laughed. ‘Okay cara, I promise.’

‘I have something for you,’ she whispered.

‘What is it?’ he smiled.

Alina dropped her packages to the floor. She removed something from her handbag and lifted Tomas' right hand, taking the packet out of his hand. Her eyes lifted to his for a moment before she focused on clipping the hand chain around his wrist.

‘Finished,’ she murmured, letting go of his wrist. It was not expensive by Tomas’ standards, but it almost broke her bank. She had to use her charge card to pay for it. It was certainly the most expensive gift she had bought anybody in her entire life. It was a classy bit of accessory with an almost bad boy image to it, but it absolutely suited Tomas.

Tomas lowered his eyes to the chunky sterling silver chain that she’d clipped on his wrist. It was beautiful. He was not a man for jewelry, but he would treasure this one. She must have spent time searching for it. It was not something one found in every store. Its design was unique.

‘Thank you tesoro, I like it,’ he clasped his hand at the nape of her neck and kissed her. ‘You must be hungry,’ Tomas smiled. ‘You have not had lunch.’

‘No, I’m okay,’ she shook her head. ‘Being with him was all the nourishment she needed.

‘We will have some drinks and a light snack si?’

‘Si,’ she nodded, not wanting to spoil the mood. Tomas ordered a platter of assorted snacks. They indulged in more red wine, chunks of bread, dipped in olive oil and cheese. Occasionally Alina would concoct something and lift it to Tomas’ lips.

‘You’re going to make me fat,’ Tomas laughed.

I know just how to burn up the energy.

‘Why are you blushing cara?

She lowered her head. ‘You don’t have an ounce of fat,’ she murmured.

Tomas threw his head back and laughed. He reached over and placed a finger under her chin, ‘neither do you,’ his eyes danced teasingly.

‘What do you say to a refreshing thermal spa bath?’ Tomas offered, when she remained quiet.

‘Spa bath?’ She smiled.

‘Si. We have hot water thermal health spas. Either you choose sea water or fresh water coming from underground volcanic springs. They are both wonderful. I prefer the sea water. Its salty effect is therapeutic.’

‘Wow. I’d love to try it,’ she agreed.

Alina was not disappointed. The spa bath was totally amazing. She felt reinvigorated. An obliging attendant kept pouring jars and jars of hot salt water over her body. She was pampered and massaged with a combination of aromatic lavender and rosemary oils. She was so ready to go to bed. She wondered if Tomas was enjoying his. She tried to discard that suffocating feeling tightening around her heart as she thought of another woman’s hands on Tomas.

‘That’s enough. Thank you’ Alina rose, slipping her gown on. She went in search of Tomas. The attendant was surprised, thinking she had not been doing a good job.

Alina was shocked when she found Tomas in the reception. He was resting on a sofa. His head tilted back, his eyes shut. He had not taken a spa bath. He was still in his sexy looking white shirt and trousers of this morning.

‘Tomas?’

He stood up surprised. ‘You’re done?’ he looked at his watch. ‘You still have fifteen minutes.’

‘Didn’t you take a spa bath?’

‘I’ve had many previously,’ he stated. ‘I wanted you to enjoy one. It was not good?’

‘No__I mean yes. It was very good, excellent. I___did not want to keep you waiting. It was so good, I just feel like climbing into bed now,’ she laughed.’

‘Well then cara, if you think you’ve done enough of the sightseeing, tourist thing, then we can retire to our coastal home here,’ he smiled.

‘Yes, thank you,’ she breathed, her excitement mounting. She definitely wanted to climb into bed…with Tomas, but not to sleep.

He assisted her into the car. Alina felt a little disappointed that tomorrow they would be heading home, her very short whirlwind, honeymoon over. She could extend it. She just had to say the words to Tomas. He would extend it for her, but she remained silent.

‘There is the Casiraghi family beach home,’ Tomas pointed as he drove into the very fancy exclusive beach town of Lucca in Northern Tuscany.’

‘It is beautiful,’ Alina complimented. Although from her eyes, Tomas could tell she though its opulence wasted around so much poverty in the region. The beach home was spectacular. No expenses were spared in making it one of the most beautiful beach houses in the world. Alina’s lack of interest disturbed Tomas. He had wanted her to be proud of his wealth, his riches, what his money could buy, yet she remained indifferent. She was unimpressed with his prosperity, possessions and his lifestyle.

What is with her? Her eyes only lit up at the simple things in life.

He took her to Europe’s most expensive designer boutiques and she was bored. He takes her to the inexpensive craft market and she is as happy as a lark. Tomas parked the car now on the hill of a tourist spot where one had a spectacular aerial view of the city. Alina opened her door before Tomas could reach her.

‘It is a magnificent city,’ Alina murmured, almost untouched by greedy developers,’ she observed.

‘Yes the city council voted against development in the vicinity. They wanted to preserve its history,’ Tomas stood behind her, draping his arms around her waist. ‘It was called Forte dei Marmi (Fort of Marbles). It takes its name from the fortress that rises in the middle of the main square. The town is named after Grand Duke Peter Leopold II. He was the Holy Roman Emperor. The fort is maintained in his honour,’ he smiled.

‘Your knowledge is very impressive Mr. Casiraghi,’ she laughed softly, placing her hands over his on her tummy. ‘You are a proud Tuscan, are you not?’

‘Yes,’ he laughed, ‘I am.’ His lips caressed the soft flesh of her throat. Alina wanted to turn around and kiss him, if she did, she’d want him to make love to her over the bonnet of his car at that very dangerous precipice they were literally standing at.

‘The city has given me much,’ Tomas spoke modestly, ‘I am thankful to it for everything,’ he smiled.

He omitted to tell her that the city has much to thank Tomas Casiraghi for. His company was very instrumentally involved in building schools for the poor. Building clinics where hospitals were too far to reach. There were many shelters for women built by Tomas Casiraghi, and there were many hostels for abused and orphaned children who needed primary care, but the burden was too much for the government, so King Casiraghi used his billions to make a little contribution back to his community.

‘Take me inside your home Tomas,’ she whispered, when he sat still at the wheel, in a reflective mood.

‘Oh yes, sorry. You are tired,’ he smiled.

‘Not too tired,’ she murmured, leaning over and capturing his mouth in a sensual kiss with a promise of a lot more to come, if he could just get her to his bed as quickly as possible.

          -end chapter sixteen-