The Silver Bride

Dior stilled. Stunning green eyes looked down into hers. 'Skylar...you can't be!' he exclaimed. 'Not anymore...' Something primitive flared than in his tense gaze. 'You like shocking me, don't you?'

Stella was blushing like mad now, maddeningly conscious of the tiny smooth shifts with which he was easing his hungry passage inside her. Can't talk now,' she muttered, wholly intent on this new and fascinating experience. A ragged laugh was torn from Dior.

He kissed the crown of her head and began to demonstrate how much more exciting it could get. Raw, out-of-control need possessed her as thoroughly as he did. She couldn't breathe for the insane race of her heart.

The world could have ended, and nothing but the pounding surge of his body into hers would have mattered. The intensity of the p.l.e.a.s.u.r.e drove her wild, and finally off the edge into a hot, wrenching paroxysm of shattering release. 'You should have told me I'd be the first, Pethi Ree Dior rasped, out of breath.

'Didn't seem important,' Stella muttered evasively, reveling in the way he was holding her close to his hot, damp magnificent length, tears of reaction in her softened eyes which she was glad he couldn't see. Was it possible to fall in love in the space of twenty-four hours? she wondered dreamily, struggling to recognize the person she now felt inside herself, but too happy and fulfilled to feel threatened by that change.

Special? How special was special? She already knew how special he was to her. She wanted to wrap him up hi a big blanket of affection and hug him to death, and Stella had never felt that soppy in her life before. 'It was important to me,' Dior confided softly. 'Are you hungry?' 'Not necessarily.' 'I can't remember when I last ate,' Dior muttered reflectively. 'Not very sensible,' she told him.

Releasing her, Dior rolled over and reached for the internal phone by the bed to order some food. Then, reaching for her hand, he pulled her out of bed with him. Her arms wrapped around herself as if she was cold, Stella hovered in the bathroom, watching him switch on the power shower. All of a sudden she felt so horrendously shy. She was being thrown into the deep end of s.e.x.u.a.l intimacy. Dior tugged her into the shower with him, either not noticing or deliberately ignoring her discomfiture.

You are tiny,' he sighed. She could feel him staring down at her. 'I'm five foot one inch,' she muttered —adding the inch. 'You looked so funny in that coat at the airport...like a little girl dressing up.' Stella couldn't think of anything witty to respond with. 'Why have you gone so quiet?' Dior demanded with sudden force. 'I'm not wearing any clothes and I'm not used to holding conversations in a shower.' A reluctant laugh of appreciation was dredged from Dior.

He lifted her into his arms like a doll and hooked her arms around his shoulders. Holding her level with him, he stared into her eyes, his dark and deep and curiously unguarded. 'Are you on the contraceptive pill?' Stella frowned and reddened, wondering why he was asking such a question when she knew that he had protected her. 'No...' 'I didn't think you would be. The c.o.n.d.o.m broke,' Dior admitted with unflinching exactitude.

'No...' The warm color drained from Stella's complexion as the implications of that admission sank in. Cold fear sn.a.k.e.d through her. 'If anything happens—which I think unlikely—we'll deal with it together.' Dior's breath fanned her parted lips and he slowly, gently kissed her again with incredible expertise.

Snatched in the nick of time from the pessimistic image of having her life ruined by an unplanned pregnancy, as her mother had, Stella clung to his more optimistic outlook and hurriedly pushed the matter out of her mind.

The reality for her had evaporated well over an hour ago, and she was in no hurry for it to intrude again. 'I have plans for you,' Dior shared teasingly between drugging kisses that made Stella shiver. 'You're going to enjoy being with me.' They picnicked on the bed.

They ate deep-fried zucchini, followed by lobster and a Greek salad. Stella had never eaten lobster in her life, and just about died when she saw it on her plate. She kept on sipping her wine until Dior got around to his, and then copied what he did with it