Chapter 3

“Ms. Morgan.” A pretty Asian girl in the Mayfair uniform of red and white gestured for her to rise. “My name is Melissa. If you’ll follow me, we’ll meet the boys.”

March’s stomach flipped. The expectation and anticipation would soon be satisfied. She stood, picking up the completed documents from the inlaid desk. On the numerous pages, March Morgan was set forth in intimate detail.

“Hello, Melissa. Call me March. Ms. Morgan sounds old.”

The application consisted of an initial interview, the ton of paperwork, and a final interview when she’d chosen a companion. Mayfair didn’t call the Special Editions androids. Her hand trembled as she handed the forms to the girl. The time had arrived. She could scarcely hear over the pounding of her heart and rush of blood in her ears.

Walking ahead, Melissa glanced over her shoulder. “Things like hair and eye color can be customized as can the features if you wish and have a photograph of what you want. Mayfair plans to sell only ten Special Editions initially. In the second production, none will be an exact replica of the first in that particular line.”

“Why only ten?” March learned what it meant for your heart to skip a beat. What if she hadn’t surrendered to impulse—fate—and hurried to England?

“Society isn’t advanced enough to accept androids as a different race, if you will.”

March studied her guide as she followed Melissa along a Jacobean paneled corridor decorated with Impressionist art. She envied the other woman’s haircut. The black straight hair swept into a nice angle at the collarbone. March’s style was much the same, but her baby fine hair had a mind of its own. Their footsteps on the polished oak floor echoed in the silence. Melissa paused at ornate brass double doors and flashed her badge at the card reader. She stood aside, waving March ahead.

Her heart leapt into her throat. A tremor passed through her as she stepped over the threshold into old world glamour. A round mahogany table with gargoyle feet claimed center stage in the expanse carpeted with exquisite Persian rugs. Walls of pale blue silk soared to a plastered ceiling. Two brocade sofas flanked the crackling fire. The opulence was overwhelming.

What the hell am I doing here? I’m way out of my depth. She couldn’t even afford the gold-framed mirror capturing her terrified expression.

“Melissa, I think I’ve made a mistake in coming.” She turned, but the other woman clasped her hand.

“You’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t take this chance.” She smiled encouragement. “I’m a Special Edition customized for our first client. Each one of us is different. The changes may be slight, but no two are alike, exactly as with humans. You wouldn’t want to show up at a formal party with the same dress as another woman.”

March’s eyes widened in surprise. “It’s unbelievable.” She shook her head slowly. “You are a Special Edition?”

The pretty android nodded and snapped the doors closed behind them. Here too was a card reader on the wall. The only way out was with a badge. A strange thought blazed through March’s mind. Was this the moment the door closes, and you discover you’re imprisoned in some bizarre experiment? Ridiculous, but a shiver played over her. What if one of the units malfunctioned?

“Though you indicated your preference is for a man, we always introduce the girls as well to make the fellows feel less like they are on display.” Melissa strode across the room to an arched doorway. “Come, greet our visitor from America.”

At the sound of footsteps, March tensed. She didn’t know what she’d expected, maybe for the androids to enter one by one for her inspection. An auburn-haired couple wearing jeans and Mayfair t-shirts were the first to step into the lamplight. In a tuxedo, the singer Daniel, laughing with a gorgeous blonde, came next. A stunning man with the high cheekbones and long straight hair of a Native American smiled at her.

Motionless, she watched the parade of beauty, but none of them struck the special chord that would make her heart sing. They can be customized, she reminded herself. Still, it took more than looks to make her fall in love.

Then he strode through the door, and her heart did a double backflip. She inhaled a soft gasp. He was perfect, no customization needed. The only programming required was a sense of humor and an intense libido. Lord, she wanted to touch him, run her fingers through his hair and kiss that luscious mouth.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” His voice defined musical and played that special chord she’d dreamed of. “I was on the phone.”

The Special Editions had gathered around her. The auburn-haired woman whispered a laugh. “Is there any need for more than one introduction, Ms. Morgan?”

That someone was speaking barely registered. March didn’t respond. She was speechless and couldn’t peel her gaze off the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. His eyes were crystalline blue, his hair wheat colored. She’d wanted sparks. She’d gotten fireworks! No way in hell was she leaving London without him.

Spellbound, March was drawn one step toward perfection, her willful eyes traveling over his body, pausing at his zipper, sliding down his long legs. The wasted years looped through her memory, regret stinging her eyes.

Melissa squeezed her hand. “Ah, you like our blond.” She beckoned. “Come, Christian.”

In tight jeans and a tux jacket with plaid cummerbund and bow tie, her dream man paused in the light of a crystal and gold chandelier. His shoulder-length hair shone like silk. Mischief sparkled in his eyes. Full lips parted on a smile, his teeth white and even. March loved a beautiful smile, and everything inside her melted.

Their eyes met and held. He strode toward her as if they were alone in the opulent room. Each step he took nearer, her body heated hotter. How could she so desire a man she was meeting for the first time? For forty years, I’ve carried his picture in my heart.

He halted an inch outside her comfort zone, close enough to touch. March forgot to breathe. Mesmerized, she raised her hand to caress his cheek but let it fall.

“Don’t be afraid.” His voice was as sensual as a lover’s whisper. “I won’t hurt you. Not now, not ever.”

“My name is March,” she heard herself say.

He grinned and winked, stroking her hair back from her cheek. “The wild, windy month of March.”

Shocked that he was the living image of her dreams, she said breathlessly, “And you’re Christian.”

“Christian is my model name. A name of your choice would be your gift to me.” He lifted his chin slightly and held out a strong hand with long, perfectly formed fingers.

“My gift to you, if you were…” Mine.

He leaned close, silken hair brushing her face. His breath was warm on her cheek, and a delicious shiver rippled over her. The moment, the wonder at it all, held her heart in check. She felt numb yet vibrantly alive, as if she’d been given sight after years of blindness. I’m staring, but I simply can’t surrender the vision of him at last.

In that incredibly beautiful voice, he whispered, “I have always been yours.”

He stood back, his soft smile and the light in his eyes warming her. They gazed into each other’s eyes, the silence between them filled with hopes and promises. In the faceted depths of his blue eyes, she saw confirmation of his feelings. She had no doubts about hers. Finally, March Morgan was head-over-heels in love…with a virtual stranger.

“Choice made.” Melissa folded her hands in front of her.

March couldn’t tear her gaze from his sparkling blue eyes. “You are so beautiful. I am so lucky.”

He touched her arm—the lightest caress of a long, elegant…human finger. “I am the lucky one. You are more than beautiful, March. It’s easy to see that you are a good, kind, and caring woman as well.”

March breathed a laugh. Christian, yes, that’s what she would name perfection. He cradled her face between his hands. Spellbound, she watched him lower his mouth to hers. He wisped the barest of kisses to her lips. Trembling, she threaded her fingers in his glorious hair and deepened the kiss, her tongue plunging into his satin mouth. She kissed him with all the thwarted passion of the long lonely years. He hugged her close to his denim-sheathed body. Melissa and nine exquisite creations watched, but March didn’t care. She melted into his embrace, loving the feel of lean muscle against her softness.

A chill settled on her as she imagined Michael asking, “Mom, who is this guy?”

She’d think about that tomorrow—or next week or the next—when they came to claim her from paradise.

“Shall we leave you two alone?” Melissa’s soft chuckle whiplashed March out of Christian’s arms.

She wheeled, blushing. The other androids had slipped away. Understanding brimmed in Melissa’s dark eyes, her smile uncommonly warm. From behind her, Christian slipped his arms around March’s waist. She covered his hands with hers. When you closed a purchase, did your companion immediately come with you, or would she have to wait while he was prepared to love her?

“Christian, return to the others. I’ll summon you when March is ready.”

When his hands dropped to his sides, the heat of his touch lingered on her skin. She didn’t want him to go, didn’t want him out of her sight, now or ever. Her wish had finally come true. He’d be programmed to give her undivided attention and unconditional love. A guilty shiver oozed down her spine. Being a possession seemed wrong and unfair to the beautiful man still standing behind her.

“Must I?” He rested his hands on her shoulders.

“I would like for him to stay.” Again, March covered his hands with hers, relishing their warmth and smoothness.

“We have certain business yet to complete, and Christian must see Stefan, our chief programmer.” Melissa gestured at the door through which the other androids had disappeared. “We won’t keep you apart very long.”

March gave a little self-conscious laugh, but she was far too happy to be concerned about what Melissa thought. She patted Christian’s hand and glanced over her shoulder. He squeezed her against him, darting a kiss to the back of her neck. Anywhere else on her neck, but exactly there was an instant turn-on. Without any programming, he seemed to sense her sweet spots.

Programming, suddenly the word echoed in her head. To her detriment, she’d always preferred alpha men. Their focus, ambition, and sexual drive captivated her. Devotion coded into his being, was it possible for Christian be alpha?

“See you soon.” She turned, watching him leave the room, his stride purposeful, a little cocky, definitely confident. What a fine ass and that hair!

If he’d worn black leather instead of a black tuxedo coat, emblazoned in red on his motorcycle jacket would have been Beware: Bad Boy. Yeppy-doodle, I’m in trouble. Oh, but hot damn, everything I could ask for!

March laughed aloud, wanting to whirl a quick dance. Yesterday, a Boeing 747 had transported her to Heaven.

“Good choice. He’s a doll, sweet and caring.” Melissa nodded at the double doors March had entered only minutes ago, her soul starving. “Since all the units are born the same, not quite sure, but I must warn you he’s a bit arrogant, and he’s all man.”

March nodded vigorously. “I can see that. Now what?”

The female android turned, beckoning for March to follow. “The exit interview and financial arrangements, the programming will be tested, then I’ll request a limo to return you and your new companion to the hotel.”

Mayfair would arrange everything, no detail skipped.

“I’d like to extend my stay at the hotel, spend my vacation here, getting to know Christian.” Images of touring the city with him spooled lazily through her mind, her heart soaring. “Will he be in the interview?”

Melissa said over her shoulder, “He’s being prepared. March, I must say he seemed to love you at first sight, without special programming. The detailed information in your profile is encoded with the undying affection. This Christian model is very human. I’ve never seen him react to a client as he did with you. I think he’s going to make you a very happy woman.”

The tall, blond Christian had already made her a happy woman, and she was anxious to take him home. “How long will preparation take?”

“About as long as the exit interview. Shall we?” Melissa flung both doors open, and side-by-side they stepped into the hallway.

Nothing had changed, but everything looked different…brighter, more beautiful. On their return to the main lobby, she felt as if she were floating, her feet merely skimming the floor. Life was bizarre. She had searched for Christian her entire life, only to find her soul mate was an android. Must stop thinking of him as a robot. We could even be married! No birth certificate. No Social Security card. No problem. Marriage was only a word.

She gripped Melissa’s arm, halting her. “What about the legal documentation, like birth certificates, et cetera?”

“He has them. How is strictly confidential.” Melissa’s smile was as composed and professional as she. “Christian’s circumstances are somewhat different, and I can tell you that we falsified his birth records using a long dead ancestor of the CEO of Mayfair himself. The Christian line was named for William Christian Aguillard. He has a passport and birth certificate in that name.”

“You can’t supply an identity for all of them like that. Do you have someone planted in the records department, or is their system hacked and births recorded?”

Melissa started visibly, glancing away. “You are very perceptive.”

Was being perceptive good or bad? March had heard that when someone wouldn’t meet your eyes, they were lying.

“Which is it?” She needed to be sure Christian had the proper documentation. Getting nabbed at Customs would be a real bitch.

The other woman stiffened. “I’m not allowed to say, but rest assured he has the proper papers to accompany you to America. Once there, our New York office will apply for a work permit. You will need to take care of his Social Security card. Of course, you will receive a certificate for his real birth and ownership from Mayfair.”

“Ownership,” she muttered. “That seems cold.”

“File the certificate away and forget it. Be happy. This way.” Melissa waved her hand at an exquisite paneled door. “We’ll conduct the final interview here.”

“If all his documents are in the name of Christian, then why did he tell me a name would be my gift to him? Not that it matters. I love the name Christian.”

“He simply meant that you can give him a name.” Melissa sat behind a large, inlaid desk and opened a blue file. “However, it won’t be his official name. Is there anything other than what was in your profile you’d like included in his programming?”

March snapped her fingers. “An English accent. His voice is like a melody.”

“Done.” Melissa whipped her cell from the pocket of her uniform. “Stefan, Christian is to be given an English accent.”

The interview room looked like a British Gentlemen’s Club and smelled of wood paneling and the deep red leather chairs. Faint music played as a relaxing backdrop. A misty rain cloaked the mullioned windows. Dread and excitement shivered over March. Images of Christian flashed through her mind as she took the seat Melissa indicated with a graceful wave of her hand. Across the polished expanse of the desk, the android smiled at March.

“Having you answer these questions is unnecessary. It was obviously love at first sight between you two.” Melissa smoothed stapled pages from the file, taking a pen from the brass stand. “This final discussion is standard procedure. Are you prepared to accept Christian as human?”

March toyed with the handle of her bag. “Yes.”

“Do you want to be intimate with him or will you use him for other things—like yard work, for example? When we obtain the work permit, he can obtain employment and possibly support you.”

March nodded. “I want to be intimate with him. I want to…I do love him.”

“His love will be unconditional. He has emotions and can be hurt. Do you agree to treat him as a loved one?”

“Yes, of course.” March shifted to the edge of her seat.

Melissa ran her finger down a printed page. “His specs say he is thirty.”

“That’s fine.” March laughed, joking. “I can officially be a cougar.”

The exit interview was far more personal than the initial meeting. March was glad that Melissa conducted the interview. The female android asked her about the size of his male equipment and the intensity of sexual ardor. March couldn’t believe she was discussing a man’s package with a robot.

She swallowed embarrassment. “Seven inches and very intense.”

March was petite and more than seven inches would probably hurt, but she did want a hot and ready lover. Still, the most important of Christian’s many virtues was the ability to love unconditionally. She was prepared to do the same.

Melissa nodded as if they were talking about his circuitry. “When we obtain a work permit, what profession? He can be programmed as a rocket scientist if you wish.”

“NASA is in Houston.” She laughed, her thoughts spinning. “Rocket scientist sounds good. I’ve never known one.”

“Anything else?” Melissa sat back in her chair and smiled.

“Not a doctor. They have too little time to spend at home.” She shrugged, frowning. “A professor. I know several people who live the academic life. Yes, a professor of English literature.”

“Well done. Christian is going to be an interesting individual.” Melissa engaged an intercom on her desk. “Stefan, Melissa here. Give Christian programming in Aerospace Engineering and English literature. Make the former primary. Thanks.”

Melissa’s expression changed with the subject matter of the question. She, too, was flawless. “Are you married?”

“Divorced a year now.” March could not sit still any longer. She rose, pacing to the window to stare out at the rain. “If I was married, I wouldn’t be here.”

“You’d be surprised how many married women have inquired. Two purchased.” Melissa closed the blue book of Christian’s specifications. “Only a few more questions.”

That these perfect men and women were being used as sex toys angered March. “Isn’t that cheating? What does a married woman do with her secret lover when her husband is home? Shut him down and stand him in the closet. Can he be turned off?”

Melissa arched an eyebrow. “We can be put into sleep mode without damage to our circuitry. You’ll be shown how to do this.”

“I’ll never want to shut him down.” March wandered back to her chair but didn’t sit. “Turning him off isn’t treating him like a human.”

Melissa closed the manila folder containing March’s life history and slid a black leather portfolio across the desk. “This contains your paperwork and a background story for Christian. You may, of course, write your own background.”

She’d always wanted to try her hand at writing. Maybe, she’d test her imagination and invent a history for her lover. Already in place were his birthday, where he was born, and who his parents were. Did he have brothers and sisters? One of each. Where did he study? Oxford and was top of his class. Questions and answers raced through her mind.

Melissa glided to her feet with a fluid, poised motion. “That’s it. Your answer to the last question makes your intentions clear. No need for further inquiries. You’ll make Christian happy.”

March shook Melissa’s hand. “I intend to.”

“Let’s take care of the financial arrangements. We’ll bring Christian in for testing, and you will be free to go with your new companion.” She handed March the portfolio she’d forgotten. “Or should I say lover?”

“Husband, I think.” Dreams misted her eyes, or was it happy tears?

Melissa folded her hands and smiled. “Perfect.”

Tonight, she’d break the dry spell since her divorce with a hot young man. A vision of him naked, inviting her into his arms, stalled before her eyes. Would he make the first move or would she have to arouse him? She wanted him to get hard with tight jeans on. Seven inches trapped in denim would be a turn-on for sure. She hoped he’d be wearing the tux jacket and jeans.

The low-interest rate loan and generous terms persuaded March to make a monthly Man Payment. She chuckled as she scrawled her name on the dotted line. It was done. Christian was hers, and she was his. Content with the future, she followed Melissa down a different corridor. The walls were sterile white, the floor gray tile.

“Would you like to see the lab? If so, I won’t summon Christian yet. You can see where he was born and some of the new models being assembled.”

Images of wires and computer chips flashed through her mind. “I’ll pass on a visit to the lab. I’d rather not see him as a machine. Please summon him and the car. I’d like to get to the hotel before dinner. Oh, does he come with any clothes?”

Melissa laughed. “Like a Ken doll, he does. The clothes you saw him wearing, a suit, white shirt and tie, a tuxedo, casual pants and polo, a t-shirt and undergarments. You’ll be allowed to choose another set of clothes.”

A hot fantasy of Christian fully erect, walking toward her interrupted her thoughts. Her nipples even tingled. He wouldn’t be a sex toy, but she couldn’t wait to sink her fingers into his hair and taste his kiss. A delicious throbbing pulsed in her core.

She winked. “We can dispense with the underwear. I like my men regimental.”

Melissa surprised her by taking her arm. The girl was perfectly human, very professional, but somewhat aloof. “A woman after my own heart.”

Then the pretty Asian girl escorted her down the white corridor and into the pale-blue room where she’d first seen Christian. “He’ll be along in a minute. He’s packing. Do you mind if he chooses the clothes?”

“I want him to choose his wardrobe. He’ll look good in anything.” Or nothing. “I can’t wait to take him shopping.”

“I’m very happy for you. You’re going to have fun. May I offer you a drink?”

“Champagne?” March settled on a brocade sofa to wait for the answer to her prayers. “Time to celebrate.”

Hips swaying gently, Melissa strolled to the ornate antique bar. From a hidden fridge, she produced a bottle of Dom Perignon. A cork popped. She placed the bottle in a silver cooler and filled two champagne flutes, the faceted glass winking in the ambient light. March laid down her portfolio and accepted the bubbly from the other woman. Melissa sank down on the sofa beside her.

“To life, love, and happiness,” Melissa toasted, fine crystal chiming, then set her untouched champagne aside. “The only difference between us and humans is that we don’t eat or drink, except for a serum for maintaining natural body fluids. Christian will have a supply of vials containing a liquid he ingests that acts as natural body fluids like tears, for example. When these are exhausted, he can contact us for more at no cost.”

“Tears?” March shook her head. “I hope he never uses the liquid then.”

Melissa offered an indulgent smile. “It also is expended in the sex act.”

“Oh…I see.” She felt the color creep into her face.

A soft knock spun March to face the door. A vision in denim, Christian strode across the plush blue rug, took her glass, and set it beside Melissa’s. He lifted her into a feverish embrace. His lips brushed her mouth, and a fiery thrill shot through her. He released her into a freefall of desire.

With the back of his hand, he caressed her cheek, his gaze intense, his grin wicked. “Did you miss me?”

“More than you know,” she whispered, longing to kiss every inch of his fine, fine body.

He bowed, kissing her hand, thrilling her to the tips of her toes. “I’m ready. My suitcase is at the door. I’m eager to begin our life together.”

They’d programmed a perfect English accent, an enchanting blend of crisp enunciation and his musical voice like dark honey. This is the last time I’ll think of him as other than human.

“Me, too.” She ached to get him alone, out of his clothes, and into her.

God, what was wrong with her? Had she become a nymphomaniac? It was dead easy to see why women bought them as sex toys. That wasn’t her motive.

“Christian, there’s a short interview. Please sit down.” When Melissa spoke, March remembered the other woman’s presence and snapped awake from his spell. “You needn’t leave, March. More champers?”

While Melissa quizzed Christian about his intentions and feelings for March, she enjoyed the expensive champagne. This experience was one she’d never forget. Mayfair spared no expense making their clients happy. As she listened to his answers, she soared higher and higher. Happy wasn’t a good enough word. Rapture worked better. The champagne warmed her stomach and made her want to break into the giggles.

The two perfect people discussed Aerospace Engineering and Shakespeare. Maybe, she shouldn’t have had him programmed that intelligent. How would she ever converse with him? She longed for a close relationship, including good communication with her partner. Drifting on her thoughts, she lost track of the conversation and didn’t hear Christian approach.

He ducked a half-bow and gazed at her through long, lush eyelashes. “March, shall we go?”

Still in awe of him, she nodded. Christian clasped her hand, twining her fingers with his. Desire crested like a wave as excitement blazed over her. If he could make her ache for him simply by holding her hand, what could he do in bed? At the door, he stood aside for her to pass then lifted a brown leather suitcase with one hand. The light of love in blue eyes melted her heart. She hoped when he gazed at her he saw love mirrored in her eyes.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “You look lovely.”

At the last minute, she’d unpacked the asymmetrical dress. She’d worn the black raw silk Oscar de la Renta suit to impress, never expecting to fall in love with a man at first sight. Flowers embroidered the hem skimming her knees. Her legs were her best asset, and he stared at them now.

“You look more than great in those jeans.” Her gaze drifted down the length of his gorgeous legs…a pleasant journey indeed.

If he walked in front of her rather than at her side, she’d pinch his fine ass, but she could wait a few minutes more to indulge fantasies. Maybe he’d grab her in the limo, and they could shock the driver. She had to control this raging and somewhat surprising desire. He mustn’t think that she bought him only for sex, but he radiated passion.

Christian released her hand to chuck her under the chin. “Tuppence for your thoughts.”

She grinned, mischief bubbling like champagne in her throat. “I’m not going to feed your ego.”

Puffs of fog danced across the street. Even the gray, misty English rain failed to dampen her spirits. She wanted to dance in the rain, to sing an aria—if she could sing. I feel like I’m floating on air. Christian’s free hand claimed March’s. When he smiled into her eyes, her pulse fluttered faster.

His eyes shaded a darker blue. “I am exceedingly happy you chose me.”

“There was never any doubt.” She accepted his kiss though she’d never been comfortable with public displays of affection.

Her friend, Ben, jumped from the front seat to open her door. Christian waved him aside, handing her into the Rolls as if she were royalty. Ben smiled and winked. The man she loved arched an eyebrow at the chauffeur, settled his luggage on the curb, and glided into the car at her side, his knee touching hers. The scent of rain-damp hair tempted her to run her fingers through the silky blond flowing over his shoulders. She couldn’t believe her good fortune. Another day might have been too late, Christian adopted by someone who wouldn’t love him the way she did.

He slid his arm around her shoulders and bent to kiss her, this time tracing her lower lip with the tip of his tongue. He whispered a kiss to her neck, his lips like satin. A delicious shiver capered over her. Five senses fired at once, drowning her in sensation. He looked into her eyes, his so very blue. She couldn’t resist staring at him, her gaze worshiping him.

“Will it embarrass you if I say I can’t wait to make love to you?” The English accent shaded his beautiful voice sensual.

She studied his mouth, tasting the hot kiss they’d shared at Mayfair. Leaning into his embrace, she snuggled her face into the fresh scent of his hair, the silky texture a caress. Hooking his finger beneath her chin, he lifted her face and smiled.

“Thank goodness you aren’t shy.” Her fingertip traced his chiseled jaw.

He turned her into an embrace and kissed her, really kissed her, thrills chasing straight to her core. His kisses were expert yet innocent and totally delicious. She’d never longed for anything as much as she craved his touch in that moment.

“Would you want me if I were?” He breathed into her, giving her sweet shivers again. “I’m only being myself. Stefan told me you didn’t ask for many changes other than the accent.”

“I’ve always found accents exciting.” She pressed her lips to the firm softness of his mouth. “Yours is impeccable.”

“Thank you, March. I rather like your accent.”

“Texas, born and bred.”

The limo’s heater whirred. She wasn’t cold, but she cuddled close to Christian, drinking in his maleness like a woman thirsting in a desert. As the city sped by, framed in the luxurious car’s window, he named streets and landmarks.

She stroked his hand, trying to keep her composure as she imagined the silky smoothness of his skin against hers. “I thought Mayfair didn’t let their…you roam far from the site.”

He hugged her. “My programming, you see. I’ve been given information about Houston and America in general since that’s where we’ll live. I’m anxious to see your home…and…” He darted a kiss to the tip of her nose. “To be alone with you.”

She tilted her head, resisting a smile. “What will we do all alone?”

“Fear not, I shall think of something.” He tossed his glorious hair, lifted her hand and breathed a kiss on her palm.

She glanced at Christian’s zipper. Denim outlined a long, hard shaft. Her beautiful man wasn’t wearing underwear. She ran her hand up his thigh.

He rested his head on the back of the seat, his eyes hooded, and said softly, “Touch me.”

Desire knifed through her. March caressed the rigid length. His eyes drifted closed, a moan fluttering his too kissable lips. Her alpha bad boy absolutely knew how to dance as if no one was looking! She couldn’t do him in the back of a limousine. Or could she? He would. The hard evidence swelled tighter beneath her hand.