One Night of Misbehavior (17 page)

She pulled back. “I talked to the lady at reception. If you agree, we can get married tomorrow. We can take care of formalities today and get married on the beach.”

“Would you like that?” His smile told her he wasn’t averse to the idea.

“I want our wedding to be special without publicity or turmoil. Do you think your father would mind?”

“We can ring him and let him know,” Ash said. “I don’t think he’ll mind at all.”

The next morning, Charlotte wore her apricot dress while Ash wore a cream shirt and black trousers. The sun shone against a blue sky, and the palm trees rustled in the tropical breeze.

“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the male celebrant said.

Ash’s kiss tasted of love with just a hint of lust, and she luxuriated in the feelings, the love she felt for this special man.

Ten minutes later, they wandered hand in hand to their bungalow where a waiter served Champagne and the festive lunch Charlotte had ordered. After telling them to dial reception if they required anything else, the smiling waiter departed.

“I love you, Mrs. Marlborough.”

“I love you too,” she whispered. “Let’s leave lunch until later.”

He scooped her off her feet before she could blink, and carried her through to their bedroom. Outside the faint whoosh of the waves sounded, ebbing and advancing again. Without haste, they disrobed, coming together when they were both naked.

Each kiss seemed deeper, communicated more. Each touch of his hands thrilled her. She smiled into his eyes and pressed her lips to the scars on his face.

One night of misbehavior would never be enough. She knew that now, accepted it. Their bodies moved in a sensuous ballet of love, and she wrapped her arms around him, holding Ash tight.

Spending all of her nights with Ash worked much better.

Thank you for reading
One Night of Misbehavior
. If you have time, I’d appreciate it if you could write a review—either good or bad—about your reading experience. Thanks!

Shelley Munro

Shelley Munro is tall and curvaceous with blue eyes and a smile that turns masculine heads everywhere she goes. She's a university tutor and an explorer/treasure hunter during her vacations. Skilled with weapons and combat, she is currently in talks with a producer about a television series based on her world adventures.

Shelley is also a writer blessed with a VERY vivid imagination who lives in New Zealand with her husband and a rambunctious puppy. When Shelley's not writing, she loves to travel and frequently drags her husband off to far-flung parts of the world—not that he puts up much of an argument. Enduring memories include being almost sat on by a mountain gorilla in Rwanda, lazing on white, sandy beaches in India, whale watching in Alaska, helmet diving in Bora Bora and camel riding in Egypt.

Cooking is fun (since she enjoys eating), and she likes to take photographs of everyone and everything. No one is safe from her camera lens. To learn more about Shelley and her books visit her website at
www.shelleymunro.com
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Special Air Services soldier Nikolai Tarei owes his neighbor and friend a favor, but looking out for his twenty-two year old niece is stretching friendship too far.

Copyright 2005 Shelley Munro

A noise woke Summer. One moment she was dreaming of playing rugby with the All Blacks and the next her eyes sprang open, the fine hairs on her arms prickling in silent alarm. She froze, exhaling slowly while she listened.

There it was again—a muted sound that could be a footstep. Summer slid from bed, knowing she’d have to investigate or she’d never get any sleep.

Voices whispered down the passage outside her room. Summer froze. A light flashed briefly then shut off.

“Must be in one of the bedrooms.”

The guttural whisper snapped Summer to attention. She crept noiselessly toward the window. The shutter clicked as she opened it. Loud enough that she froze again.

“I’ll check in this room and the bathroom. You take the other two rooms.”

“What about the girl?”

“You heard the boss. Do whatever’s necessary to get the goods.”

“Right.”

Two of them. That didn’t sound good. Healthy fear made Summer spring to action. She shoved the window open wide, no longer worrying about attracting attention. Footsteps sounded right outside her door. The door handle grated as it turned. Summer slithered out the window feetfirst. The sill dug into her stomach while her feet dangled two feet above Uncle Henry’s prized rose garden. Not the best position to be in, but not as bad as being accosted by strange men in the middle of the night. Summer wriggled further over the windowsill and let go.

Rose thorns sliced at her calves, her thighs. Summer bit her bottom lip. Shit! That hurt. Well that would teach her to wear a skimpy nightgown to bed rather than the flannelette pajamas her mother had packed. She extricated herself from the grip of Tom Thumb, Uncle Henry’s favorite rosebush, and limped toward Nikolai’s house. Pique made her grimace and think in curses. Just her luck. Her first night alone, and she needed help. A great start to her bid for independence.

“She’s not here.”

Summer glanced over her shoulder and once again cursed her nightgown. The pale material stuck out like a Jersey bull in her mother’s vegetable garden.

“She must be here.”

Summer changed direction. She’d have to go around the back of Nikolai’s house. She stepped up onto the verandah and almost fell through a broken board. Damn and blast.

“The window’s open. Look out in the garden.” The intruders’ voices carried on the night air.

An open window beckoned, the sheer net curtains fluttering in the soft breeze. The voices moved closer, and Summer didn’t hesitate. She dived through the window.

Something tackled her, sending her flying. Summer landed on her back in the middle of a mattress. The air hissed from her lungs as someone pinned her in place.

“Don’t move,” a harsh voice said next to her ear. A hand moved down her arm and across her chest, freezing when it came into contact with her breast. This time, the succinct Anglo-Saxon curse didn’t raise so much as an eyebrow. The body pressing her into the bed moved, but not enough for her to draw a good lungful of air. A bedside lamp switched on. She blinked at the surge of bright light.

“You.” Nikolai glared down at her. “What the devil are you doing in my bedroom?”

Summer swallowed. His hand was warm, and she felt her nipple hardening under his touch. Humiliation at her body’s betrayal made her tense even as she savored the spike of sensation.

“Um…would you mind taking your hand off my breast?” The way her nipple was cozying into his palm—talk about a newsflash. Being this close to the man was unnerving, especially since he was the enemy. She refused to think about how good it would feel if he rearranged their bodies a fraction. Nope. She wasn’t going there.

The furrow between his brows deepened. “Isn’t that what you’re here for?”

The innuendo made Summer stiffen even more. “Someone’s broken into Uncle Henry’s house.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” To Summer’s intense relief, Nikolai moved off her. “Have you rung the police?”

“No. I…” Summer’s voice trailed off as she took in the broad expanse of his naked chest. Oops, naked all over. Her gaze jumped northward again, but the vision of masculinity remained seared to her retinas.
He looked so much better without clothes
.

Nikolai rolled his eyes with the same masculine impatience her brothers exhibited when they thought she was acting blonde. “Never mind. Get in bed and stay warm. I’ll take care of things.”

He yanked on a pair of jeans and limped from the room before she could tell him what she thought of his verbal pat on the head. No way was she staying in his bed and missing out on the fun. She sprang from the mattress. This was more adventure than she’d ever imagined, and it was only her second day in Auckland.

Summer crept down the passage, feeling her way cautiously through the dark and unfamiliar house.

“I thought I told you to stay in bed.”

Summer jerked as his warm breath tickled her ear. Oh, boy. Who would have thought an ear was an erogenous zone? She bit down on her bottom lip, frowned then grinned as a brainwave struck. “I heard a noise outside the window.” Luckily, it was dark since she couldn’t lie to save herself. And her body was broadcasting lustful messages a blind man could decipher. Full participation in this adventure would give her something else to think about, help her gain a semblance of control—she hoped.

“All right. Stay with me,” he ordered. He moved off, sliding through the darkness with the ease of a soldier on night maneuvers.

Summer blundered after him and kicked a table leg. The clatter made Nikolai curse. She blinked. Another new one to save for later—wait until the next time her brothers tried to tell her how to live her life. She’d stun them with her brilliance.

“Can’t you be quiet?”

“I can’t see.”

Another muttered curse. “Here.” He seized her hand. “Hold onto me. And keep up.”

Summer felt a royal salute coming on until he attached her hand to the waistband of his jeans. When she touched warm masculine skin, every militant urge in her mind stalled. Her fingers curled about the body-warmed denim. She sucked in a deep breath, her senses reeling and her body humming—from toe-tips to the top of her head. Bits in between tingled and plunged, and swooped like a high-speed lift traveling to the ground floor.
Oh, boy
.

Nikolai opened the front door and slid outside. Summer stumbled after him, her mind engaged on sensation, the way her silk nightgown caressed her curves, rather than the urgent need to reconnoiter. He stopped without warning. Summer didn’t, and her nose flattened against his shoulder blade. A soft whoosh of air escaped from between her parted lips.

Nikolai’s hands snaked out, steadying and preventing her from falling. “Mind the step. I haven’t got round to fixing it yet.”

The step? Her next intake of breath was a mistake. It was full of Nikolai. Sandalwood soap and Nikolai, and it was a very combustible combination. Who’d have thought?

Lies and secrets have a way of returning to bite a girl in the butt…

Copyright 2008, Shelley Munro

Love at first sight. Sam Norville snorted and signaled the bartender for another beer. He didn’t believe a man and a woman could fall in love the moment they first clapped eyes on each other, despite his family’s evidence to the contrary. His grandparents, his parents, his older brother and, according to his grandmother, his great-grandparents as well. Only he dared to buck the happy trend, along with his twin sisters who, at twenty, were too young to marry. According to his grandmother, they were all safe until they hit twenty-five. After that, all bets were off.

Normally he didn’t let family traditions bother him, but everyone had ganged up on him at the family dinner they’d had to celebrate his grandfather’s eightieth birthday the previous weekend. What they didn’t know was he’d already disproved the theory with Amber. He wasn’t about to put himself through the same hell again.

Sam tipped back his head and drank, allowing the crisp flavor of hops to dance across his taste buds. He enjoyed his single status, refusing to toe the line and follow in his brother’s footsteps, meeting and marrying the woman of his dreams in mere days. Wasn’t gonna happen, not when he had more important things to do with his life. Like carving his niche in the business world and enjoying himself. So what if he’d turned twenty-eight last month? There were lots of beautiful, single women in London who liked to party and have fun as much as he did. Besides, he thought with a grimace, the local gossip magazines would suffer if he picked one specific woman. Quite possibly go out of business, according to his mother. Sam thought about it again and shook his head. Nah, wasn’t gonna happen, no matter how many dinners and lectures on family history and happy-ever-after he had to sit through.

Turning to lean against the polished wooden bar, he scanned the interior of the crowded private room. The steady beat of Salsa music throbbed through concealed speakers, and on the makeshift dance floor several customers and his employees strutted their stuff. Normally, he loved to dance, but tonight he wasn’t in the mood. Sam’s attention strayed to study the occupants in the room. He knew the majority of them. A few, like the dark-haired woman sitting in the corner on her own, were strangers. Two women standing at the opposite end of the bar waved and started to thread their way through the crowd. Alarm skittered through him. Both were nice enough, but it was easy to see they wanted a permanent man. Without conceit, he knew his bank balance and family connections made him a valuable commodity.

Not tonight. No, tonight he didn’t want to play the mating game. All he wanted was pleasant company with no commitments. No promises or obligations. A third woman stopped the two who had waved at him. As one, they turned to scrutinize him, clear speculation written across their faces. Determination. Sam knew what a wild animal felt like, trapped with nowhere to hide. His gaze darted back to the dark-haired woman sitting on her own, and he came to a quick decision.

His savior—although she might not appreciate the fact.

A soft smile played across sensual lips while she watched both the dancers and the people at the bar. There was an intriguing stillness about her, as if she were content with her own company, but that didn’t stop Sam from striding away from the bar, navigating the dancers on the floor, to reach her side. Up close, she had a quiet beauty with creamy soft skin and sapphire blue eyes surrounded by a mass of dark lashes. She wasn’t a woman who screamed, “look at me,” but her full curves appealed to him. Nothing worse than a string-bean woman with jutting hipbones and stick arms. No, he preferred someone healthy and robust, who didn’t look as if she’d break when he held her.

“Hello, darling,” he said and he lifted her off the chair, hauling her into his arms. Before she had a chance to react, he lowered his head and kissed her. To anyone else, to the three women stalking him, it would appear like a quick peck between friends, but with this woman, something changed. Shock roared through him and he froze. He pulled back enough so he could stare down at her, trying to fathom the sense of possessiveness that had blindsided him without warning. Yes, her eyes were beautiful. Stunning. The freckles across the bridge of her nose were cute. She smelled of wildflowers, a light, natural scent that didn’t make his eyes water or bring on a sneeze.

This woman was…

No way. No how! Not possible. He wasn’t going to act on the instinct screaming through him. He’d traveled that road before. No, all he intended to do was chat, maybe dance and reassure himself that this love at first sight stuff really was a load of crap. And of course, avoid the three stooges stalking him at the same time.

He released the woman and offered her a grin, the charming type his mother and sisters accused him of using whenever he wanted something.

“Hello, I’m Sam. You don’t know it yet, but you’ve just saved my life. I can’t thank you enough.”

“If you wanted an original pickup line, you’ve found it,” she said dryly, cocking her head slightly to the side to look up at him. Her voice was low and throaty. Seductive. And her mouth. Oh, yeah. Her bottom lip glistened, the plump pink curve highlighted with a gloss of some kind. Sam wanted to touch, but curled his hands to fists to halt the impulse.

“You haven’t heard my best ones yet.” Sam held out his hand and waited for her to acknowledge his greeting.

“Oh?” The beginnings of a grin twitched at the corner of her sexy lips, but didn’t go any farther. Slowly, she stepped back to put a more respectable distance between them. Sam’s heart thudded violently without warning, and he found himself wanting to make her smile. He could imagine her face lighting up and wanted to see if his imagination matched the truth.

“How much will you charge me for a smile?”

“You’re funny.” Slowly, she placed her hand in his. When she tipped back her head to study him and their hands touched, a sharp spark of desire flared up his arm. His sharp inhalation sounded loud, harsh to his ears, but the woman didn’t seem to notice. Her attention centered on his lips, in the same way he’d looked at hers. She seemed mesmerized, certainly as interested as he was in touching, tasting her mouth and making her smile. Suddenly Sam felt like he was back at school, a teenager with a crush on the most popular girl in his class. He wanted to swallow and shuffle his feet. He wanted to caress her mouth again in the worst possible way. This time he’d make the kiss slower. Deepen it. Explore. Conquer. The unwanted thought registered, and he frowned, drawing back and releasing her hand.